Mistress Marisa's Estate Pt. 31

I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...

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She starts to walk passed me but stops. I curtsy as she enters your home. She suddenly turns to me, the front door still open, she pounces like a cat. She grabs me so fast I cry out, a little yelping noise echoes in the foyer. I feel her hand reach down and take my harnessed penis and balls in it. She quickly cups and pulls down on the cock cage holding me tightly in place. She pushes up her face, inches from mine.

"Hello, Princess, my little darling baby doll sweetie honey sissy fuck."

She is beautifully made up. Her eyes flash a wicked smile as I catch just a glance of her beautiful face. I avert my eyes to the floor quickly. Her hand, pushed up under the short skirt of my maid outfit raises it and exposes the little bulge inside my pink lace panties. She tightly cups me her hand. I wince as she pulls just a little harder. I feel her manicured nails dig slightly into and around the base of my balls. Her fingers are up under the permanent gold ring I wear in place behind my balls and penis cage.

"Hello, Mistress Barbara."

I whimper, stifle a painful moan. I see you at the hall doorway out of the corner of my eye.

"Barbara, stop fucking with the help."

You giggle as you move toward her. She quickly releases me, tosses me from her hand. Her eyes still fixed on my face, she turns to you.

"I like this little one, Marisa. You know I do. He was my first. I haven't forgotten that. First one I got to make cry and dance just for me and only me, I may want to play with him again. I know Charles likes this one too. He likes this little piece of candy mostly because Princess is your favorite."

She turns to you. The two of you do the air-kiss hug. I hurry to close the door. I am ignored. The two of you drift into your den.

"Princess, two Manhattans."

It's all you say as your voice trails off into the den area.

The two of you dressed beautifully for a day in the city, both in sexy but in no way over the top skirt and blouse outfits. Tailored, form fitting, men will be looking intently. Barbara wearing knee high, stiletto heel boots, they click loudly as she crosses the wooden floor of the hallway. As soon as the two of you enter the room I hear Barbara's girl like chirpy voice.

"Mary, hello. Are you joining..." She is cut off in mid-sentence.

"Don't talk to that bitch. Don't."

Anger fills your voice.

Mary is standing next to your chair. She wears six inch heels, almost punishment like in nature, a short red dress barely covers her rear end. Exposed are the lace tops of her thigh high stockings with seams. She is made up startlingly slutty, huge eyes, black and cat like, bright red lipstick to match her all red outfit and her shiny pointed toe 'fuck-me' shoes. Her hair is in a sexy up-do, large red hoop earrings almost meet her exposed soft shoulders. She is the perfect high class hooker persona.

"I mean it, don't talk to this bitch! She's being taught a lesson."

You sit next to her, pat her butt, let your hand rest on it.

"Well, haven't things taken a turn around here."

Barbara laughs, sits across from you. She eyes Mary intently.

Mary looks off into the distance, somewhat removed from Barbara's comment but keenly aware of it, aware of the two of you.

"You know Barbara, when you find a good little bitch it doesn't matter whether or not it's a boy or a girl."

Your hand runs down Mary's ass and up under her skirt, up her inner thigh. You feel her struggle to maintain her posture. You pet her exposed thigh below her panties.

"It could even be an old lady like this cougar bitch, you just have to exploit it before someone else does."

Barbara giggles. You laugh. Mary's face flushes.

"So, you like girls now, Marisa?"

Barbara leans forward as I enter the room quickly and efficiently. I dip and offer her one of the drinks on the tray. I hurry to you, offer the tray. You take your drink as I offer it to you, dismiss me coarsely with your hand. I hurry from the room.

"I like submissive play things, Barbara. You know that. I like, as you do, sobbing little bitches that know their place. I like 'oh mistress, please, please, mistress...' bitches, crying for me, begging me. I like having them do things for people I send them to. I like all of the above."

You feel yourself get just the hint of wet as you say that. You take your hand from Mary's thigh, reach up and run your index finger across the lips of her pussy. You can feel her through her panties. You quickly remove your hand from under her skirt.

"This one has entered a new phase around here. She's lost all privilege. Who do you answer to, Mary?"

"You, Mistress Marisa."

She looks sheepishly to you with big doe-like eyes.

You snap your fingers, point to the center of the room. Mary without hesitation walks to where you point. Barbara cannot hide her wide and more than interested, amused smile.

"She is an attractive one. And how cool is it that you have a mother and son team?"

She laughs so loud it rings through the hall.

"I know some kink websites actually advertise 'mother-daughter' playtime whores. This could be one of the most unique items on your party list, Marisa. I think I like it."

She sips her drink, focuses in on Mary's troubled eyes.

"I do know that Charles was pissed off that she was unavailable when he wanted what he thought would be a little amusement among friends. I didn't think anything of it. I thought she was your friend, all was okay, she was an equal and not for rent. My mistake I guess."

"It was far from okay. This bitch learned that yesterday."

You sip your drink then place it on the table next to you.

"Dress up girl, underpants down."

Like the rest of your trained stable Mary responds instantly. Her dress pulled up just below her breasts, her cute red lace panties dropped instantly to her knees, legs spread just enough to keep them up and dangling, she is perfectly displayed, her panties just above her sexy shoes. A thin gold slave chain around her waist shines just below her stomach above her pussy. Silent, she looks off to the window.

"Eyes to the floor, Mary. What did Mama tell you?!?"

You lean forward and slap her bruised cheek so hard she jumps. She cries out, her eyes immediately to the floor. You slap her again harder.

"Oh my, who did that? Ilsa? I'm impressed."

Barbara marvels at the whip marks all over her bruised and welted rear end. She snaps her fingers at Mary.

"Turn."

Mary looks at you quickly, hesitant to do as Barbara says.

"Turn, girl. Do as she tells you to do."

She turns, her rear presented and facing Barbara.

"So, are you a lesbian now, Marisa?"

She says it snidely. Not to you, to Mary. Reaches out and runs her finger up several of Mary's almost-fresh welts, sees her cheeks wince, tense and tighten. She reaches up and takes her butt in both hands. Spreading her cheeks she peers in.

"Wow, you are thorough, welts on the inside too."

"Barbara, when we Domme ladies use a submissive girl it's not about being a fucking lesbian. This bitch is a better ass licker than her son. She's the lesbian, not me. Aren't you, Mary?"

You stand, put your hand on her pussy before she can speak, a quiet whimper, 'yes, ma'am', as your finger is pushed up and into her. So quickly, she is dry, you work your finger into her. She cries out but doesn't dare let her skirt fall, holding it up with her hands. She instinctively bends slightly at the waist, pushes her rear out toward Barbara. She quickly rights herself but not before Barbara releases her cheeks and delivers and open hand slap to her butt.

"Push your ass into my face, Mary? I should have her beat you again."

Barbara giggles.

"It is a cute butt, I have to say. If I liked girls I'd want that butt pushed into my face."

"Yes, Mistress, yes. Your dirty bitch lesbian girl, yes Mistress. A baby girl, a girl you own, your girl, Mistress, yes, your whore."

Her eyes close. She is instantly soaking wet. She feels your finger start to work gently on her. You feel her lips give way to your sliding finger. Only you get this reaction from her, you know that. She is your sex addict. She is your bitch.

"I could have her make you cum, Barbara. Trust me. You'll get passed the girl thing very quickly."

You stare into Mary's eyes.

"Marisa, I don't think so."

She sips her drink. Sits back in her chair, watches, smiles at you.

"But I have to say, if we had more time I may be persuaded. This is an interesting turn. I thought she was one of us girls, had no idea."

She giggles as only Barbara does, little girl like.

"Mary, I think you've been demoted."

You say nothing, glare at Mary. You pull your finger out slowly. Hold it to her mouth, watch as she slowly licks it, eyes to the floor, very careful not to smudge her lipstick.

"Not demoted, Barbara, that's cruel. She just found her niche, her place. We all have a place in the order of things. Mary has come to realize that she is a submissive little lady, gets hotter than hot by accepting what she knows she is. Mary needed me to show her what she is. We really do have to put on a show at some point. First time this bitch went down on me I knew what she was, what she is, my very first real live 'yes, ma'am' slave girl. I could feel it. It happened after the breeding party last month, knew it was just a matter of time before I could piss all over her if I wanted to, make her do anything. As Ilsa says, I can pick them."

You pull your finger away from her wet lips, slowly slide it out of her pussy. You quickly slap her face.

"Pull your panties up, fix your dress. When he gets here you walk out to his car lady like. Don't make him have to call for you, Mary. Go stand by the window and wait for him."

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."

"Shut up, you're stammering. Get to the window, move girl."

You pat her rear, turn and sit as she hurries to fix herself and do as she's told. You glare at her, turn and smile at Barbara.

"And if he wants to know why your panties are slightly wet you tell him you've been thinking about all the dirty things you're going to do for him. If I ask him about that and he says you didn't say that to him you'll be back in the basement and over the whipping horse before noon tomorrow."

"Yes, Mistress. I will. Thank you, Mistress. I will."

Mary moves to the window. You take the rest of your drink down in one gulp.

"This is a special one, one of my 'special needs' clients. He may beat me to taking her to the basement. He was at the breeding gala, couldn't keep his eyes off of Mary. He loves older women. And he likes to spank. I knew she'd be perfect for him."

You start for the door.

"Barbara, let's get into the city. I'm hungry, want lunch and have limited time. I have a date myself later on tonight. You know my baby, insatiable. I never keep that wonderful man waiting."

"So what do I call her now? Is she one of us still? What?"

Barbara looks at you smiles, then to Mary. She sees her watching out window for the man that you are sending her to.

"I think 'bitch' is good, 'whore', 'slut', whatever."

You giggle.

"Seriously, call her 'Mary'. She isn't on the low rung around her. She still hangs with us girls sometimes too. Mary is my good girl. Her role changes, up to me."

You turn to her. Anger fills your voice. You talk toward Mary, raise your voice to her.

"I mean it, girl. He better be pleased with your fine little rear end. I don't want any complaints. This is your first time out. You be a very good girl."

Barbara looks back over her shoulder at Mary as the two of you leave the room.

"You heard her, Mary, better be a good girl. I know that has to be more fun than Maria's whipping horse."

Barbara's heels clicking on the floor, her girlish giggle in the hall, she looks to you.

"Barbara, you have to trust me. You know I started you down this wonderful and sexy path. Well, Charles did but I helped."

You laugh.

"You have got to humor me and let her go down on you. Just trust me. You may want her doing it more than once, like maybe a hundred times. She was made for it. The bitch is better than good. And just close your eyes and pretend it's Charles."

Barbara laughs.

"Marisa, I close my eyes already when Charles does that, and pretend it's almost anyone else. Every fucking time."

The sound of girl laughter rings down the hall loudly as the two of you walk out together and close the door behind you.

I see my mother standing and looking out the window of your sitting room as I pass through the hall on my way to the basement laundry room.

I am your slave.