Melissa Chapter Eight By Deborah Ford
The powerful, Alpha male at the head of table sat smiling at Christian’s wife, Melissa. She in turn eyed him expectantly, hanging on to his every thought about her cuckolded maid standing nearby.
“And I loved the pictures of the maid’s caned backside!” He said, “You did well.”
Christian closed his eyes in absolute shame. That this so-called Sir would know he had been caned was bad enough, but that Melissa, his own wife, had betrayed him by sending the lout pictures of his ordeal was just too much!
“Ok,” he continued, “so you’re unhappy with him tricking you with the plastic knock off chastity device that your maid could have escaped from at any time.”
Christian’s tummy grew more tense, he was feeling sick. He couldn’t have got out of that chastity cage that easily, even if it was cheap plastic.
Sir raised his eyebrows. “Yeh, then you mention the toy handcuffs with the escape lever. Your boy had pretended that once locked in them he couldn’t get out. When he could do so at any time!”
Melissa snorted angrily. “I know. I feel a real fool, believing my husband like that!”
Christian’s jaw dropped. His wife was genuinely upset. He didn’t mean to upset her. It was just that toy handcuffs felt safer to be locked into rather than real ones in which he could have ended up trapped.
“Look slut,” the oaf said, “all these dumb cucks try it on. Really. Now you have official police handcuffs.” He grunted his unpleasant laugh again. “And he sure as hell isn’t getting out of those until you say so.”
Melissa relaxed visibly and grinned. “Nor out of that chastity cage of yours! My God it looks impregnable!”
He joined her laughter. “You’re dead right. Until you think he deserves it, he remains locked away whether he likes it or not.”
Melissa smiled shyly at her blushing, terrified hubby in his cute maid outfit, standing near her in control lover.
“Aw, maid,” she says to her troubled hubby, “Don’t worry. Sir says we can improve your behaviour really quickly.”
Not knowing what to say, Christian fidgets, his fingers pushing against his silky skirt.
“Oh, ok,” the dominant male said reading further while slumping down in his chair. “Topping from the bottom! Good girl for reminding me.”
The wife found her cheeks flushing as pink as her maid’s. “Thank you, Sir. Sir, you were going to tell me what that is. That topping from the bottom business.”
Now Christian was livid. The oaf was going to give off some man ‘splaining to his wife. He could have told his wife all she needed to know about topping from the bottom!
“So what you have,” the man said slowly, “is that subs destroy the dynamic that Doms create by imposing their own rules, and laying out their own limitations. That way they stay in their safe zones and get enough of an erotic buzz to have a wank.”
Melissa cut in with a smile, “If they are allowed out of the chastity cage, Sir!”
“Yeh, right!”
For some reason they both found that hilarious.
“That’s the other thing,” the Bull said casually. “You asked about a safe word for your maid.”
“Oh Sir,” Melissa reacted as if she had been caught out. “Sir, the maid asked for one.”
“Of course she did! Let me show you something,” he continued clicking his fingers at Christian. “Maid, get your cute arse over here. Now!”
Christian’s heels wouldn’t move. They might as well have been superglued to the spot. The last thing he wanted was to get too close to the bully who was fucking his wife and had locked him into that dreadful chastity contraption.
“Maid!” Melissa raised her eyebrows at her apprehensive maid.
“Yes, Mistress,” he replied hoarsely.
“You must obey Sir, the way you obey me.” Her face hardened. “Always. Don’t ever embarrass me in front of others!”
Swallowing, Christian mechanically, with a completely dead brain, advanced closer to the dreaded Sir.
“Closer, maid,” he said unpleasantly, as if Christian was stupid not knowing where he ought to stand.
“Yes, Sir,” Christian said as he edged even closer to the dreadful brute.
The man sat up straight and leaned back, studying the perturbed maid. He knew she was finally getting it. Not totally, but she had gone through some doors, and he was as sure as hell going to ensure she didn’t escape back through them.
Suddenly Sir’s hand shot out and gripped one of Christian’s arse cheeks beneath his skirt.
My God! A man was clinging on to one of his buttocks. A man! Holding his bum cheek.
Christian felt wholly violated, and yet his little dick spurted helplessly in its confines. He looked for support from his wife, but she too seemed in shock. She stared in wide eyed disbelief at a scene in which her hubby was being groped by a man.
“Now, maid, listen carefully. Suppose I’ve some friends over, on a Sunday for the football. You’re serving them …”
“Mistress!” Christian squealed seeking rescue.
“Hush maid,” she said firmly. “Let’s hear what Sir has to say.”
Christian’s tormentor continued. “So some guy grabs your arse and you have a safe word. What happens?”
“I … er …I … er …”
Melissa cut in, “Oh Sir, he’d definitely use it. He’s not very brave.”
“Exactly!” Announced Sir as if it were obvious. “So if she isn’t permitted a safe word then she cannot disappoint my friends.”
Oh God. The room started circling above Christian’s maid cap. He must not pass out.
Sir released the maid’s bottom with a sadistic squeeze.
Christian squealed, but quickly grabbed the rear hem to pull the little skirt part of the maid’s dress into position. God, he could still feel the grip of the oaf on his buttocks as if the fingers were still present. Yet, his little trapped dick spurted into his panties.
“Second example,” Sir continued. “So think on this, slut. You have some of your girl friends around and maybe you let him wear boys’ clothes. So he’s serving your pals their wine and sandwiches dutifully. It’s all going well, but he speaks out of turn.” He leaned over the table as if about to impart valuable information. “Subbie cucks always do this. They want to fight back. Initially they are self conscious about waiting on people he knows. They feel their guilty about serving friends under the authority of their wives. You have to watch out for it. A word out of place here, a slovenly bit of service, showing reluctance.”
Melissa nodded enthusiastically. “I could really see him doing that even if permitted to wear boy’s clothes.”
“Yeh, right!” He said, “So what do you say?”
“Oh!” Melissa looked worried. A pupil caught out by a sudden question from her tutor. “I don’t know. Oh! Erm, admonish him? In front of my friends?”
Sir smiled, “Come on slut, we’ve covered this a few times in my lessons.”
Lessons? Christian’s knees shook. What lessons? What nonsense was he filling his wife’s head with?
“Oh Yes, Sir!” She grinned so hard her eyes narrowed with laughter lines. “I say, I’ll deal with you later!”
“Look at you,” Sir said. “You’ve got it nailed haven’t you!”
“Oh Sir, I really couldn’t have done it without you.”
“True enough,” he conceded trying to appear modest. “So if your dumb cuck has a safe word, he’d use it wouldn’t he? He’d be so embarrassed he’d want you to stop.”
She laughed. “Oh I see! So if he is not permitted a safe word then he is totally helpless!”
Sir jabbed a finger in her direction. “Got it in one.”
A horrified Christian watched as his wife stared into space while smiling contently.
Sir continued, “Now, women pick upon this shit quickly. They’ll know right away that your hubbie is very much under your thumb. Guys don’t get it so quickly. So suppose you have a dinner with your friends and couples over, or you let your boy serve his friends drinks on football night.”
Melissa concentrated soaking up all this wonderful hot advice fearful she would be asked another question.
“In that case the words, I’ll deal with you later, won’t cut it. Can you remember what you say then?”
Melissa closed her eyes tight and opened them triumphantly. “Yes Sir. I have to verbalise a demerit.”
Verbalise a demerit? Christian was horrified and he didn’t even know what they were talking about. What is verbalising a deterrent?
Sir raised his hands in triumph. “Good girl, you can suck my cock tonight!”
She laughed, “Thank you so much Sir. You are very kind.”
Jesus! Christian might as well not be in the room. He might as well not even exist.
“Go on slut,” the lout said. “Give me an example.”
“Oh right. Yes.” She said excitedly. “I say to my boy in front of the men, ‘one little boy will be going to bed early, if he’s not careful’!”
What? In front of their guests? Christian stared at his Mistress, but she only had hero worshiping eyes for her lover.
“And what happens, in a worst case scenario,” Sir probed.
Melissa glanced quickly at her suffering maid and looked away. Christian noted that she appeared anxious.
“Well Sir, if my boy swears,” she said slowly, “I have to put an immediate stop to it. Because only men should be permitted to swear.” She lowered her voice, feeling for the pain her hubbie was going through, “Then I say boy, it will be early to bed if one little boy is not careful.”
“You’re doing great, Slut,” he declared. “And what if he reacts negatively?”
“Oh yes,” she said as if remembering, “If he tries to laugh it off or make a joke about it then I up the ante.”
Up the ante? Christian stared with distress at a woman he no longer recognised.
“I must remain calm,” she continued, “in control. I say, well boy do you want to be sent straight to bed now?”
“Great, slut. And?”
She smiled naughtily. “If he is still bratty then I order him to stand facing the wall with his hands on his head, like the naughty boy he is.”
The so called Sir, grinned.
Melissa swallowed, “and Sir, if my girlfriends are around, or his friend’s wives then I’ll have my boy wearing little tight shorts.”
What? Christian’s mouth formed a perfect circle of astonishment.
Sir seemed surprised, caught off guard. “Yeh, if you want.”
The drunken wife was on a roll with her fantasy, “I want women to see how lovely my boy’s legs are. They’ll be so jealous. Especially when they see how obedient he is and how he doesn’t answer back and …”
Sir put up his palm with a laugh. “Hold it there! That’s all weeks away.”
Weeks? Christian grew irritated. There was no way he was going to be prancing around in front of their friends in tight little shorts like some gayboy in a bar.
“Really!” Christian said with a pout, “I think we should all remember that this is just something private. Something between the two of us, well now three of us, I suppose. Obviously, no one else should be involved as …”
“Quiet maid,” his wife’s Bull said quietly, but with that authority Christian had come to alarm him.
Melissa was suddenly full of anguish. “I’m so sorry Sir. Please remember the maid is barely trained. I feel so ashamed that she should be speaking at the table. Especially when I have a guest here!”
What? Christian’s poor mind stopped working. What was going on here?
As ever, Sir was completely at ease.
“Don’t worry slut. Your maid has been allowed to roam wild for way too long. You have to keep your wits about you. Nip any issues in the bud.” He then turned in his seat to face the maid, who quickly looked away. “Maid, go out to the hallway and fetch me my black sports bag.”
Christian looked at his wife with shocked eyes. With telepathy he was asking her ‘must I’, though obviously he was a bit fearful about saying anything out loud.
Melissa shook her head with impatience. “When a guest tells you to do something it should be as if I have commanded you to do it. Just be a good girl and fetch Sir’s bag.”
The cucked hubbie was certain he should be pointing out that he wasn’t going to obey this obnoxious bully, but he was already wiggling out of the room. What should he say? His wife and her lover seemed to turn everything he said back against him.
He found the bag near the coat stand. It clanked disturbingly when he picked up. It seemed heavier than he would expect for a sports bag. Oh god! Was this the same bag from which the intimidating Sir had plucked the police handcuffs and the horrible heavy chastity device he was forced to wear?
As he returned the Bull was saying, “These things take time. We teach her with bite sized lessons. Otherwise, she’ll get confused. Cucks aren’t exactly rocket scientists. Ah maid. Good girl, put the bag on the table.”
Christian did so, stepping back as the bag rattled while settling.
Sir said, “Maid, turn around. I don’t want you seeing what’s in the bag and getting yourself worked up in a panic.”
“Aw,” said his wife. “You are always so considerate to her.”
Shock was governing Christian’s nervous stem as, despite himself, he turned on his heels to look away from the table.
This was agony. He could hear Sir unzip the bag and rummage amongst a variety of sounds.
“Slut,” he said to Christian’s wife, “come here.”
“Yes Sir.”
The maid heard his wife push back her chair before approaching them. He could smell her delightful subtle flowery perfume.
“Tell your maid to kneel,” the oaf said matter of factly.
“Maid, be a good girl and kneel,” Melissa said in as comforting a voice as she could muster.
What was going on, Christian wondered as he knelt on the carpet, facing away from his two tormentors.
He felt the soft wool of the carpet around his stockinged legs as his flared skirt settled around his hips and his panty clad bottom rested on his heels.
“See this?” The oaf asked his slut.
Melissa giggled. “Oh my! Are you going to use that on my maid?”
Christian felt blood rush to his head. Use what? What could be so funny that it would make his wife giggle?
“So do you remember your instructions on how to apply this?”
“I think so, Sir,” Melissa said, with uncertainty.
The lout continued, “Good slut. So you do the first part and I’ll finish it off.”
At this point, Christian knew he needed to make a stand against the two of them. It was all getting ridiculous. What ever it was that Sir held it would not be used on him!
He was about to address his wife, who had leaned down next to him when she grabbed his nose, tight.
“Aargh!” His lips parted wide, and something tasting of plastic was shoved in his mouth.
The plastic object was forced a little more and then Christian could taste leather. Two straps were pulled securely around his cheeks to his neck, beneath his girlified hair.
Click.
“There,” Sir said. “You see that lock?”
Melissa sounded breathless.
“Oh my. Yes, Sir.”
“It may look small, and the maid can reach it, but she cannot see it. Even if she had the key there is a cover over the lock. So she would be trying blindly to raise the cover and unlock it. That penis gag is in place until you remove it.”
Penis gag! Christian had a penis gag filling his mouth!
“Slut, tell your maid to stand up and face me.”
“Yes Sir,” Melissa said, still sounding as if she was fighting for breath. “Stand up and face Sir.”
Face Sir! With this demeaning contraption stuffed and locked into his mouth? He glanced up at his wife seeking support, but her expression grew serious.
“I thought I told you to stand and face Sir!”
So it was that a defeated, maid husband rose to his heels and with cheeks flushing red, faced his tormentor.
As he zipped his sports bag shut, Sir appeared at ease. As if nothing of importance had occurred.
“Maid,” he said, “if you don’t want to drool all over the place like a toddler you best suck at the penis in your mouth for all you’re worth.”
Already, saliva was building on the maid’s lips. Christian sucked it back in, but then more built up. Oh God! He was now sucking the horrible penis shape on his tongue to prevent the drool escaping.
“There,” Sir said, modestly, “solved your chattering maid problem.”
Melissa caught hold of her maid’s shoulder and gently pulled her around to appreciate the erotic sight before her.
Melissa caught hold of her maid’s shoulder and gently pulled her around to appreciate the erotic sight before her.
There was her maid locked in a cock gag and totally unable to remove it. Her maid! This was a maid who belonged to her. Her very own!
Now she had a penis gag stuffed in her mouth by the God who was fucking her silly. She could see her husband was sucking it like mad which made her giggle. She lay a palm on his hot cheek and scrutinized him with wide fascinated eyes.
“Oh, my word are we going to have fun and games in the future, maid. You look so fucking hot!”
His wife swore so rarely that Christian stopped sucking in shock.
She grabbed her erotically attired maid around the waist brining her tight to her own body rubbing lasciviously at him.
“You are just too damned hot for fucking words!” She announced.
The oaf laughed. “You’ll have to play with your maid later. We need to get through his first appraisal.”
Christian’s cock was now filling its tiny confinement finding not a millimetre of room to escape. He spurted into his panties, but it brough no sexual relief.
“You know slut,” Sir rose from the table reminding the cuckold maid and the slutty wife of his size and sheer mass. “I’ve drunk too much to drive home. So you and I’ll take the master bedroom and you can send your maid to sleep in one of your other bedrooms. That small one from last night maybe?”
As Christian sucked on the intruder in his mouth, he saw a dark wave of disappointment cloud his wife’s face. She stroked her maid’s gently made up face, smiled softly and then said:
“Whatever Sir wants.” She kissed her maid on the cheek. “Now you be a good girl and tidy up here and in the kitchen before going to bed.”
Sir said, “Yes. That’s another thing. Setting her nightly bedtime so she gets a sense of order …”
Sir was caught midsentence as Christian’s wife grabbed her lover’s hand and, giggling, led him out into the hall and up the stairs.
Sir called back, “Maid! Don’t you look in that bag or you’ll regret it!”
There was a squeal as if Melissa had been pinched before the bedroom door slammed shut leaving Christian alone, gagged, in his maid’s uniform surveying the mess on the table.
Just a foot or so from him, the ominous bag lay. Zipped up and shut. A container of all manner of horrors and humiliations. Oddly, he knew already that he would not dare disobey Sir and open it.
Sucking on his penis gag the thought came into his head to just leave the mess for them to face in the morning. Yet, perversely, as he relished the thought of being disobedient, so he gathered together the last plates and glasses, and headed on his heels to the dishwasher in the kitchen.
The conversation would have to wait until tomorrow! He sucked on his penis gag to prevent his drool spilling down his cheeks. Even a quarter of an hour later he was running through his thoughts while sucking on the penis gag. Tomorrow couldn’t come quick enough!
It’s outrageous that so many sissies visit this site and make a mess in their panties / knickers, but never thank Ms Ford for feeding their fantasies. Hollywood spends umpteen billions on politically-correct messaging but when an unsung heroine like Ms Ford provides lovingly-crafted stories that happen to be in tune with female-empowerment stories, she gets hardly any acknowledgement at all. The fact is, is that Ms Ford is much more honest than any of that Hollywood bull**** because her stories come from the heart . She’s not peddling a message, she’s not forwarding an agenda, she’s just trying to discover, through her various experiments in storytelling, the ultimate sissy adventure.
God bless you, Ms Ford !
P.s. – I say that after roughly 20 years of reading stories by Ms Ford
Aw, thank you Miss Tykes, xxx. Think Hollywood is paying for its agenda over heart with lack of bums on seats!
But feedback is rare, which is a shame. For example, this part has been viewed 1.1K times in just over 24 hours on my reddit site without a single comment!
Df
LOL. There maybe a few repeated viewings,
It’s odd that people have to spank their own bottoms when there are others out there who would love to do it for us!
Deborah Ford
Well said, Ms Ford.
It’s like when I have to spank my own bottom !
(P.s. Sorry, but I think about 100 of those views were mine – long story…).
All your work is of such a high standard that I think we sometimes get blasé and just expect that to be the norm, not congratulating you as readily as we should. It’s wonderful when another day dawns and I find another chapter has been written. It’s the perfect way to start the day as it’s so consistently excellent.
Thank you Miss Ford
ChrisLydi
Aw, thank you ChrisLydi, and feedback is always, very much welcome.
Deborah Ford
Spanking oneself? Interesting thought. But I agree that having someone else do it has much to be said for it. And ditto the thanks Miss Ford. Checking your site is often the highlight of the day.
As for Melissa? Poor Christian! His wife sure is taking a liking to all this, so I cannot see a way out for him. Can you imagine? (Gives me chills!) And when the “Sissy Trainer” enters the picture, he’ll be totally screwed (literally, figuratively and maybe in other ways!) Christian has no chance, nor has he a clue as to how far it will go. I don’t either—but cannot wait to find out. Absolutely delicious!
Indeed, poor Christian needs to put down his high heeled foot before it is too late. DF