Melissa Chapter Six
By Deborah Ford
When in shock, the brain shuts down.
Christian went mechanically through following his instructions of hanging up Sir’s coat and stepping away as the couple grappled amorously with each other in the hallway of what no longer felt like his own home.
It is that point of awkwardness where a man would often stuff his fingers in his pockets, but Christian had no pockets in his maid’s uniform. From the waist up it was constrictingly tight and from the waist down it flowered outwards with the petticoats to mid-thigh length.
So, absentmindedly he found himself pressing his palms hard through his silky skirt against his thighs just above the stocking tops. He kept his eyes on the carpet.
His brain, had indeed shut down. He knew not what to say nor how to act.
It was only when the couple, still gripping each other tightly, made their way past him into the dining room that Christian realised how big the so called Sir was. He had only seen him under the blindfold, but certainly felt his weight and size when he screwed Christian’s wife right next to him on their bed.
He still wore his natty dark, blue suit and removed his jacket to put it over the chair at the head of the table – Christian’s usual seat as head of the household.
Sir was the sort of guy who looks bulky. He filled his white shirt yet had narrow hips and a taut tum.
“Something smells good!” Sir barked.
“Oh, yes. The maid has been very busy Sir,” Melissa paused before quickly adding, “under my supervision, as you directed Sir.”
“Good girl! You’re getting the hang of being Mistress then!”
Christian felt like a ghost. He was present but couldn’t be seen by the others.
Should he say something, even just to bring their attention on to him? Remind them he existed?
“Maid,” Melissa said, “put on some romantic music. Songs, I think. Pop songs. None of that classical rubbish you listen to.”
Sir laughed at this, pulling back his shoulders as they shook. His eyes were fixed on Christian’s wife, and Christian noticed hers were on his, as if awaiting his bidding.
Not wishing to say ‘yes Mistress’ out loud, Christian moved in his heels to the iPad and selected the genre of popular romantic songs.
Violins filled the room.
“Oh, turn it down, maid! Silly!” Melissa said with a laugh.
Sir grunted his own laugh as a chorus.
So unfair! He had only just turned it on, how did he know it was going to be loud? But he turned it down without complaint.
The revealing maid’s uniform did its job. It reduced him in status in the eyes of others but also within himself.
He heard giggling and laughter behind him. This was outrageous!
Turning on his heels to confront them he was met with Melissa smiling at him. She had taken her usual seat at the opposite end of the table to where Sir was reaching for his napkin.
Melissa smiled, “Pour us a glass of wine and then serve the main course, thank you maid.”
Swallowing, the maid tottered forward on his heels, raising the bottle of Chianti Classico from the table with a shaking hand. It was his favourite wine, and he somehow knew that he wouldn’t even get a taste.
Sir launched into some corny opening gambit speeches, asking how her day was.
Christian was desperate not to spill a drop of red on the crisp white tablecloth. So poured the deep red fluid delicately while holding his breath.
By the time he reached Melissa’s glass, his wife was saying, “She is having a few problems adapting to her role.”
The problem with red wine is that at times it can run down the bottle, again leaving a mark on the tablecloth. But all seemed to pass well. He carefully placed the bottle on the stand, a little relief tickling his tummy.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the floor and walked slowly to the door to the hall. That would be sanctuary, away from this lout and he could escape to the kitchen.
“Well,” Sir said, rolling the wine around his glass, “don’t worry about it. Dumb cucks need a little breathing space to develop. A bit of understanding. They get their ideas of chastity maids from books, stories and videos on the internet. That fills their empty heads with all sorts of foolish notions. Your job is to ensure she understands what is demanded of her.”
Christian paused in the hallway listening. They were talking about him and didn’t care if he could hear their stinging putdowns!
His wife was talking, with a giggle in her voice, “But oh God, he looks so cute!”
“She,” Sir corrected. “You have to remember your maid is a girl.”
Melissa laughed, enjoying herself. “Well, she is sure as hell a cute girl.”
“Yeh,” Sir mused. “The legs aren’t bad.”
Christian went on to the kitchen wanting to be angry, but Sir said his legs weren’t bad. How about that? He found himself smiling and a little precum spurted into his delicate black panties.
He wanted to be angry, and there was so much to get his goat, but hearing a guy say he had nice legs, made him smile.
From the stove he pulled out the tray of roast chicken in a plume of white steam and it was deliciously crisp! Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all!
They had finished the meal, and if Christian wasn’t so nervous, he would have felt his own starvation. He hadn’t eaten since lunch time, yet the collywobbles in his tummy from waiting on a thug of a man who was entertaining his wife, left him unable to face food, despite the wonderful aromas of the fare he had served up to the pair.
Melissa was on her third glass of wine and was clearly already embarrassingly drunk. Sir had drunk only two glasses but seemed as perfectly in control as the moment he had arrived in Christian’s home.
“Tell your maid to get another bottle. This one’s dead.” Sir waved the offending bottle at Christian’s wife.
“Oh, sorry Sir, I didn’t realise,” she giggled, “I’m completely smashed. You mind if we move onto white?”
“Whatever you want you get,” he smiled.
God, he even flirted with his wife! In the past the bulls who had allowed Christian to watch them fuck Melissa didn’t have much to say for themselves. Christian always felt his wife remained his, just heartily fucked and satisfied. But here, with this ego on legs, he felt like she was his, in a way beyond carnal lust.
This alarmed Christian, and yet, yet … his little dick was filling this new impregnable chastity cage.
Melissa turned on her chair, in her sexily tight, rose-pink dress, that clung to her curves and thighs as she crossed her legs.
“Maid. Fetch a bottle of white from the cooler.”
Did she have to speak to him like that? He might as well have been a dog.
He nodded and made for the door when he heard Sir speak.
“Shouldn’t your maid say ‘yes Mistress’ when complying with an instruction? You know, it’s not for me to say. Just something for you to think about.”
Christian hurtled for the kitchen before he could be summoned back, his tummy churning. That damn Sir needed to stay out of their business! He was going to have to say something and make a stand pretty quickly else the duffer would be controlling everything.
He fished out an Italian white from the wine cooler, which he knew Melissa enjoyed and wrapped a chill sleeve about it. He remained stationary in the kitchen, feeling the icy bottle in his hand as he thought through his speech. He wouldn’t bother speaking to that Sir yob. Not just because Sir scared him, which he did, but because this scene should be all about Melissa and him, not the Bull. That made sense. He would say to Melissa, let us have a quiet word in the kitchen and if she refused to move, then he would make his stand, right there and then.
Suddenly feeling heroic, he uncrewed the cap from the bottle made his way back to the dining room, feeling his skirt dance about his thighs.
Sir was offering more of that man ‘splaining advice of his! What an idiot, Christian thought.
He said, in that calm slow way of his, “Once the order of the household is established then all else is pretty straightforward.”
Melissa was sat forward, her elbows on the table and her chin resting on her linked fingers, as if in awe of the pontificating fool. Clearly she was acting.
“Same as in a business,” he continued, “or a community. Once authority is established then all falls easily into place.”
What tosh, Christian thought. And would say so, put this so called Alpha Male in his place! He made to pour the white Italian wine when a booming voice shook through his head.
“Hey, tramp, what the fuck is your dumb arsed maid doing now?”
Christian froze as Melissa sat up straight in bewilderment.
For the first time since his arrival, Christian actually looked at Sir’s rugged face which looked like one of those that always needed a shave. The growth around the jaw was dark grey making Christian wonder how old the guy was. But what irritated Christian, was that the Bull simply ignored him and stared at Melissa with questioning eyes.
Fear froze his brain yet again leaving Christian not knowing how to respond.
Sir continued, “Fresh glasses for a different wine! Especially going from red to white!”
Melissa was beside herself. “Oh my God. Sir! This is awful. I am so sorry!”
Christian felt his chin fall open and quiver. His heart was in his mouth.
“Hey,” Sir said magnanimously. “Don’t knock yourself out. She’s never been trained before. You’re doing all the heavy lifting here.”
“Thank you, Sir, but I cannot begin to apologise. What must you think of me?”
Sir laughed. “Relax. Your maid is at the bottom of a steep learning curve. She’s not the brightest of maids but you’ll get her there.”
“Sir, should I spank her? I have a cane in the hallway cupboard.”
“And spoil your meal? Na. Just tell your maid you’ll deal with her later. Don’t let ‘em get in the way of you having a good time. They’re like little children. Constantly needing more and more attention.”
Like children! This was outrageous. The fear had decreased a little, but Christian was certainly not going to speak up for himself yet. This would not have been the right moment. Not with Sir being cross with him.
Melissa pulled back her shoulders in her sexy dress, “Maid you must apologise immediately to Sir. I will deal with your punishment later.”
He stared at his wife with wide eyes. Apologise to this horrible man who was making his life a misery?
“Erm, Mistress …” he began quietly.
She cut him off by widening her eyes in a stare that made his knees shake.
With his world collapsing about him, Christian turned on his heels to face the man who had locked this obscene chastity cage on him and was turning his own wife into a tyrant. Sir didn’t even bother to return his look.
“Er, Sir, I am very sorry about the wine.”
Even the romantic pop songs from the sound system did not take away the feeling of threatening silence filling the house.
No one said or did anything.
Melissa was nervous, “Sir, was that ok?”
“You know, tramp. It will do. We’ll teach her how to apologise to her betters another time.” Suddenly he beamed at her, “Tell your maid to fetch some clean glasses and pour the wine.”
“Oh yes, Sir,” Melissa sounded grateful to the yob! “Maid. Go and fetch fresh glasses. Quickly!”
And he did. As quickly as he could in his three inch strappy heels, desperate to flee the humiliating situation.
Sadly, less than half an hour later, it became worse for Christian. Far worse.
Melissa was now on her second glass of white, so maybe five glasses in all and was clearly tipsy. The self-styled Sir lauded it over her at every turn. From compliments to risky innuendo which made her laugh like a naughty schoolgirl.
Melissa, slouched in her chair and seemed to be pondering a thought.
She said, “Sir. This new chastity thingee that you’ve put the maid in …”
She paused and Sir leaned his head to one side, “Yes?”
Christian perked up. He needed to know more about this weighty cage he could feel pretty much all the time as it gripped his genitals.
“Well,” Christian’s wife continued thoughtfully, “I mean, is it really as inescapable as you say?”
“Sure. Tell your maid to come over to you.”
Putting down her wine glass, Melissa’s eyes twinkled with mischief, and she hooked her finger at her maid, “Come here, maid.”
Oh no! Not in front of Sir! He hated this. He felt so powerless.
He walked over slowly, pressing his palms against his skirt so hard he could feel his stockings tabs attached to the suspenders.
His brain went blank.
“Now tell her to lift up the front of her skirt,” Sir said.
“Maid,” Melissa said softly, “Raise your skirt at the front like Sir says.”
He closed his eyes and pulled up the flimsy skirt, feeling the warmth of the room on his panty clad front. His breathing grew short. What was this nasty man going to have her do?
“Great,” Sir said. “Now just pull down her panties. So they are around her thighs.”
Already deeply aroused from being flirted with by this commanding Alpha Male, Melissa held her breath and obeyed Sir. She was now uncomfortably wet down below. Her panties were sopping damp. Also, the fact she knew nothing about what she was being commanded to do yet felt compelled to obey was incredibly exciting.
The pretty black panties with the elegant edging, were tugged into the position as directed by Sir.
Christian kept his eyes tightly closed. The gathered up skirt and petticoats meant he couldn’t see that dreadful tiny chastity cage that Sir had locked on him, but he just felt slightly safer in the darkness of shut eyelids.
Sir spoke again, “Now you remember you felt the rear ring of his old cheap, plastic chastity cage? Behind the ball sack? Try it now and think back to how easily the other one could be moved.”
With index finger and thumb, Melissa took hold of the new metal ring and tried to twist it.
“Sir! It doesn’t move at all.”
Sir gave out his ugly superior chuckle that always made Christian feel uneasy. He felt exposed and little more than a toy for his wife’s mouthy Bull to play with.
“Exactly,” Sir said, as if triumphant. “No way your boy is going to slip that off. The dense metal means your boy can’t cut through it.” He laughed an ugly laugh. “Even if she is dumb enough to try when it’s fixed to her little boy dickette.”
When would the pain of this degradation end? How much more would his wife make him endure?
Melissa giggled, then said, “aw.”
With her free hand she reached under his skirt behind him and patted her maid’s bottom.
“Now tramp, feel the rest of the small cage,” Sir demanded as if expecting a specific response.
She did so feeling her breathing slow.
“Oh My God, sir. It is so solid.”
Her fingers ran down to the lower cage element, and suddenly she snatched her fingers away as if burnt. “Ugh! It’s wet!”
He laughed again. “Sure. Yeh. Like all sluts, she is wet when aroused. Only she can’t do anything about it unless you tell me she has behaved. Then I’ll check your report and release her.”
At that point, Melissa slipped deep in to sub space with a long moan as if she was a hurt animal. Her Sir was completely in control of both of them and there was nothing they could do. It was intoxicating. She needed Sir’s huge cock deep inside her right now. Her pussy felt wholly empty and in need.
She ran her finger over the small cage feeling her maid spurt in arousal.
“Maid,” she said in a low aroused tone, “We are both a real pair of sluts for Sir.”
Christian’s eyes flashed open in shock. What? He looked at Sir, sat at the end of the table holding his wine glass, and felt nothing short of defeated. Totally defeated. That man controlled his wife and now controlled him. It was a flash of astonishment. It no longer felt remotely like a game. Suddenly his little dick pulsed and spurted helplessly leaving him further in need.
Melissa laughed. “Oh my god what a slut you are Maid.”
She smiled naughtily enjoying the shame on her hubbie’s face. She wiped her fingers on the napkin and rose shakily to her heels.
“Sir. I fucking need you inside me right now. Please fuck me. OH my God,” she closed her eyes, leaned her head back and screamed out, “Please. Please. Sir. Now!”
Christian was statue steady, keeping up the front of his skirt and petticoats, as no one had told him to do otherwise.
He looked at his wife in astonishment. Who was this woman begging for a man’s cock. A woman who never seemed to even like sex. A woman who seemed to have so many headaches whenever Christian asked, politely of course, if she would like to have intercourse.
Christian was about to learn a great deal more about Melissa – and himself.