Ok, so the first pic has nothing to do with the story … just too cute to leave out. The second one, could be Christian heading from the kitchen to the dining room!
Melissa By Deborah Ford
Melissa came down from her orgasms like a helium filled balloon. Drifting back to earth with tiny, electric pulses still sparking a way around her body.
Sir was amazing. She had climaxed as soon as his huge cock entered her. She knew she was screaming with pleasure and shouting, but it might as well have come from someone else. Someone miles away. She was a puppet to the sexual detonations Sir induced in her.
She was still simmering, perhaps not yet back to planet earth when she felt his strong forearm gather her around her shoulders and draw her closer. She kissed at his shirt pulled tight across his hard chest, before groaning and snuggling deeper into his embrace.
“Oh, My God, Sir. You are just amazing.”
She heard a quiet chuckle full of the sort of confidence other men would presume was conceit. But she loved him for that arrogance. What a man. It was then that she realised that her tight dress had been pulled up over her hips and made to drag it down over her sopping panties, by lifting up her arse. She was now coming back into consciousness and with a giggle realised was was lying on the floor in her dining room. She had actually been fucked like a slut on her own floor.
She moaned with pleasure and squeezed into his arms again, opening her eyes to look up at his rugged handsome features. Comforted she lay her head fully on his chest, feeling the heat from his body after their exertions.
Then she saw him …
Her maid was staring with bewilderment down at them, as if asking himself what was happening. His eyes were full of shock, but hilariously he was still holding up the front of his maid’s skirt with his fingers, revealing his tiny chastity cage, and his panties remained stretched between his thighs near his stocking tops.
She burst out laughing.
“Oh, silly maid!”
“Erm, Mistress, I … I … er.”
Christian was lost for words. As soon as his wife and her lover attacked each other with such violent passion he didn’t know what to do. Should he leave? Should he drop his skirt? Should he close his eyes? He hadn’t been given any further instructions after they inspected his new, more robust chastity cage.
“Silly maid,” she repeated hoarsely. “Put down your skirt. You look so ditzy like that. Why don’t you be a good girl and clear the table.”
He dropped his skirt before pressing it flat with his hands. Oh God! Sir was looking at him with a horrible superior smile.
Christian turned to collect the dishes, working so quickly cutlery kept falling on to the nice white linen tablecloth. He just needed to get out of the room and try to obtain some self-respect.
Sir fiddled with his pants, zipping up his fly, before sitting up and doing up his belt.
Now an embarrassed Melissa felt too slutty for words, lying along on her carpet, her pussy full of his and her juices. She climbed back to her heels, with Sir helping her straighten up. She looked at him, wrapping her arms around his torso. In turn he kissed her gently.
Christian froze with the cutlery in his one hand. What was happening? This wasn’t just sex, she seemed to be in love with him – and he with her! It was as if his place in her life was being taken over by this obnoxious brute.
Sir spoke in his deep calm voice, “Maid, weren’t you given an instruction?”
Open mouthed Christian gathered sufficient sense to nod and dart out of the door with the rattling plates.
But when he was alone in the kitchen, he found his breathing was running like a steam engine. He tried to get calm but couldn’t. His head was swimming too much for him to load the dishwasher. He had seen them fuck. Actually fuck. With previous Bulls he noticed how Melissa would cum explosively, but this was way different. His wife had juddered as soon as he entered her. Her legs and arms gripped him like a machine, maybe the way an alligator wound around its prey.
And the noises! She screamed so loud that everyone in the street must have heard her. Yelling, “Oh God, yes. Yes.” Over and over.
She had never behaved like that with previous bulls, and it pained him to admit, nothing like that when they made love. Sometimes she would lie there barely making any sound when he was screwing her, except, after he came to remind him to do some chores around the house.
He walked back to fetch more plates while trying to clear his head when he heard the low voice of Sir.
“Yeh., Don’t ever say it like that. You have to be firmer. Always. So you just tell her to clear the table and then ignore her. Else they’ll feel like they’re doing you a favour.”
“I’m still learning so much,” he heard his wife say, yet again with that awe in her voice.
They became silent so keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him, Christian clip clopped in his heels to the table and pulled the last dishes together in a neat pile.
He didn’t turn to look at her. He couldn’t bear to.
He hated saying Mistress in front of that lout. He knew it would make him look really subbie in the oaf’s eyes. Oh God. And he was wearing this maid’s outfit in front of the man who had locked his dick away and kept the key.
“You will serve the desert now.”
Yes Mistress. Of course, Mistress.”
Without looking at them he quickly carried the clattering dishes out of the dining room.
He paused in the hallway to hear Melissa ask:
“Was that better?”
“Yeh. That was great. You see, she knows what she must do. It isn’t a request. It’s a command.”
Infuriating. That boor had taken control of their games!
Now Christian stamped angrily across the wooden floor of the kitchen to clang down the plates on the sink unit. It was all too outrageous for words.
And when ever he thought about his current plight, he could feel the hefty, tiny chastity cage locked so tightly around his dick. The only way to get it released was if his wife gave a good report to Sir about his behaviour.
He slid down onto his haunches feeling his stockings and suspenders stretch and the delightful short skirt and petticoats flutter about his thighs.
My God he needed to cum. If he was permitted release, his head would go pop. He could barely think.
She was standing in the doorway, touching her hair back into place looking like the most sexy woman on earth in her tight rose pink dress and lovely legs in her nude heels.
He stood up on his own heels, wondering what he had done wrong, “Yes Mistress?”
“Another bottle of white.”
“Oh yes Mistress.”
He was actually thinking: three bottles in less than an hour an half.
Suddenly she smiled and skipped across the floor in her heels to grab both his hands in hers.
“Oh, maid. You are so wonderful to do this for me.”
She kissed his cheek. “You are so helpless and adorable. You get spanked if I want you spanked, you play when I say you’ll play.” She kissed him gently on his lightly lipsticked lips, before whispering in his ear, “When Sir has gone, you are and are going to have more serious me time! Even better than earlier. What do you think about that?”
“Oh thank you, Mistress. Thank you.”
Joy buoyed him up. They had enjoyed such sexual excitement earlier and by tonight his chastity would be unlocked and he could play with his wife and actually cum!
She released his hands and playfully tapped his nose with a finger.
“So you remember to be your Mistress’ well behaved maid.”
“Oh I will, I promise. Yes, Mistress,”
He stepped forward to take her in his arms and kiss her, but she wagged the same finger at him.
“Naughty, naughty. Haven’t you got a Crème Caramel you should be making?”
She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Oh yes, Mistress. Yes. Of course. Sorry.”
Then she looked blankly at the sink, speaking slowly. “And in future maid, you do not ever embrace me unless instructed to do so.”
“Erm, Mistress, but I …”
She took him in with half closed eyes.
“It is not for a maid to make such presumptions.” Then she glanced at the sink again, slowing her voice, “though perhaps you could ask permission.” Suddenly she beamed, “I’ll ask Sir! He’ll know.”
She wiggled out of the room leaving an open mouthed maid.
Ask Sir! Ask Sir if a man could cuddle his own fucking wife! This was too ridiculous for words. Melissa was so lost in her sex needs for this stupid thug of a Bull, that she was losing all reason. Clearly a quiet word later, after they had sex was in order!
His thoughts of hate for the man ruining their sex life flooded his being until he gasped.
Oh! The Crème Caramel! He turned on the grill and tried to bring his senses back to his mind. But that was impossible, as every time moved, he was aware of Sir’s contraption tightened beneath his black panties.
So it had been a long day of shock after shock for poor hapless Christian. He now stood near the wall unit in the dining room as his wife and her Bull finished their coffees. She was very drunk, giggling at everything the dumb oaf said.
Her Bull was, of course, very tiresome. Telling lewd stories and dirty jokes, of which Melissa never approved. Obviously, she was being polite in laughing at them now and not stopping the Bull with his coarse language.
But the single thought that kept Christian going was that pretty soon the oaf would be gone, and he could reclaim his wife for ‘me time’ as she put it earlier in the kitchen. Their ‘me time’ in the morning had been staggeringly erotic. He fantasised about being kept in chastity until the last possible moment as he and his wife engaged in girly cuddling, giggling and a bit of 69.
“So do you want to share your report?”
Suddenly the oaf was serious, the laughter forgotten, and Christian felt himself stand to attention.
Melissa sat up, “Oh! Gosh. Yes. I finished filling out the maid’s report card a few minutes ago.”
Then she giggled and reached into her bag beside her for her tablet.
She swiped through some pages, and Christian tried to see what program she was opening so he could check it later, but from where he stood, he could only make out half a screen. The screen shots were unfamiliar. Was it some new program that the oaf had put on her tablet?
“Shall I send it to you on WhatsApp? Our group?” she asked.
Christian’s eyebrows joined together. Eh? She had a group on WhatsApp? Christian didn’t like the sound of that. They usually shared everything as a couple. He didn’t know she had a group with the oaf on a social messenger.
Sir took a large smart phone out of the inside of his jacket which was draped over the back of the chair.
“Sure, Slut. Go ahead.”
“There were a few bleeps, and Sir nodded.
“So fast,” Melissa giggled. She gave a pouting smile towards her hubbie, “Hey maid, Sir is checking on my report on your performance today.”
His astonishment was a mischievous joy for her, as if teasing him. She sipped at her white wine, giggling.
“Oh, don’t look so worried. Sir says it will really help you improve your performance as a maid. You’ll be the wonderful obedient maid you’ve always fantasised about.”
God she was acting as if she was fifteen! A giggly, silly schoolgirl.
Didn’t she get it? That this was just a little game between the two of them? It was their private world.
Glancing at her lover engrossed in his screen, she seemed more nervous now, “You understand I only did the latest entries when the maid was in the kitchen. Hope they’re not too rushed.”
The oaf was too involved in his screen to take much notice of what she said, making Melissa fidget uncomfortably. What had she said about him?
Christian felt angry at the Bull for making his wife feel uneasy. He wished he could go over and cuddle her, but that would have to come later, once the oaf departed.
Melissa grew tense as the Bull swiped each page in turn studying some pages more than others.
That made Christian become more nervous. Obviously, they weren’t really going to keep him locked up if his behaviour was poor, he knew that. It was just that it seemed so real that he genuinely felt his fate was in the hands of how her Bull perceived her report.
Christian closed his eyes, held his breath and pulsated out yet more pre cum into his panties.
“Okey!” he made the announcement as if he were a judge about to sum up major law case in court. Melissa’s eyes were fixed on him.
Even Christian, who feared catching his eyes, took him in and held his breath.
The so called Sir, swiped back to the beginning while nodding.
“Ok. So firstly, your boy behaved like a brat when you came home late last night.”
“Aw,” Melissa said, “but he, no, she, she was upset. Because I hadn’t contacted her. And I did punish her.”
“It’s not for a maid to expect his Mistress to keep her informed on her every movement.” He nods, reading. “Yeh, I see that. You sent him to the spare bedroom.”
Melissa spoke quickly, “Yes. Not any of the guest bed rooms. It’s at the back of the house. Not so nicely furnished.”
“Okey. And then the following morning a series of canings, each of eight slices.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said winningly. “And the maid did cry. Well sob. And she was very sorry.”
This was nothing short of outrageous, Christian thought. Why is she sharing these belittling details with this oaf?
“Exactly,” Sir pointed out. “You see where I’m coming from? You tell your maid you will punish her and then you must carry out the threat.” He sipped his wine. “It’s something you need to stay on top of. The best example is if you tell your boy when you are out with friends that you will deal with him later, then your boy has to know that. That is exactly what will happen when you get home. He will be dealt with.”
Melissa looked away in thought at the curtained windows. “Ah yes. It would be so easy to forget when you get home.”
Melissa was pleased with herself, while Christian pressed his palms tightly to his skirt. Oh my God, he missed pockets in which to sink his hands when nervous.
Sir moved down to the next topic and suddenly Christian wished he had behaved better for the last twenty four hours.
“Yeh,” Sir said as if in complete understanding. “He forgot to address you properly.” He raised his eyebrows. “A few times it would seem.”
Unexpectedly, Sir stole a hard look at the troubled maid, “I hope you learn to address your betters in a more appropriate manner, maid.”
Not knowing what to say he looked to his wife for support, some protection from this horrible brute.
Melissa eagerly said, “She is improving,” glancing back at her terrified hubbie in his maid’s outfit, “Aren’t you maid?”
He said it so quickly he didn’t have to think about a response. Damn he thought, he should have told them both this was going beyond a game while he had a chance. This was clearly going too far and he was the only one who could see that.
“Great,” the so called Sir said. “That’s really what I wanted to hear!”
Again, Melissa glowed, like a young girl being praised by a teacher.
Somehow this felt even more disgraceful to the poor maid. How could they discuss him like this without him being permitted to interject.
“Ah,” Sir grimaced as he read, “Now this is where it gets more serious.”
Christian actually gasped out loud.
His mistress said, “Aw, maid. Don’t worry. Sir will deal with you. Help you develop. You’ll see.”
Christian felt his stockinged knees grow weak. Help him develop? He didn’t want to develop.
The Bull cleared his throat ready to make his next proclamation.
2 thoughts on “Melissa Chapter Seven By Deborah Ford”
I thought you were maybe treading water, Ms F, but this is really next level story telling. Totally orgasmic ! (Although I don’t know who you are teasing more – Christian, or us) ?
Aw thank you. There is always a danger of treading water, but funnily enough this story will develop a little further yet. Who am I teasing? Sometimes myslef, these developments have come as a surprise to me.