Maid for a Night (COMPLETE)
- jastes22
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Part 16: Their Slut
“Last pose,” I whispered to myself.
“For your handcuffs,” Lindsay reminded me. “We still have the rest of the night ahead of us.”
Right. My handcuffs. This whole humiliation portion of the night had been my fault. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of being restrained for much longer. If I had just kept my mouth shut, I wouldn’t have opened myself up to negotiations.
I forced myself onto my hands. Every movement was calculated, to move in a way to protect my privates and yet still stay mostly uncovered so the others had no reason to punish me.
Lindsay grabbed the collar by my neck and pulled. Used to the slack given by the leash, I yelped and scrambled to my feet.
I hadn’t stood up straight for a while, and I felt awkward just standing there naked without being able to cover myself.
“Okay, for this last pose, I want you to be as slutty as possible? Do you think you can do that?” Lindsay asked.
There was no good response to that. By agreeing to such a statement, I opened up possibilities that I didn’t want to think about. But if I didn’t agree to it, then my disobedience would give Lindsay enough ammo to come up with a new punishment for me.
I scrambled for a third option, but my brain was too fuzzy and my body was too tired to think.
“Taylor!”
I whimpered. “I’m sorry! Umm…”
“If you can’t make up your mind quickly, we may need to put those handcuffs back on.”
That was enough for me. The thought of having to put those handcuffs back on after already letting them photograph me in three humiliating poses was awful. It would be like I gave them the pictures for free. I regretted making the deal, but no way was I going to relinquish my gains from it.
“Y—y-yes,” I stuttered. “I’ll be slutty.”
“As slutty as you can?”
I swallowed, but I was past the point of no return. “I’ll be as slutty as I can.”
Her fingers grazed my bare pussy. “You’ll be a good little slut?”
That was too far, and she knew it. We had gone from “maid” to “pet” to “slut” in a matter of hours, each with its own connotations. But I had no choice.
I held in a groan from Lindsay’s flirting fingers on my pussy. “I’ll be a good little slut.”
“Say it to each of us. And use your manners.”
“I’ll be a good little slut, Miss Lindsay.”
I winced. It sounded awful. And I still had to say it three more times. But I couldn’t back down. I couldn’t give Lindsay a reason. She had ammo now: pictures, real pictures of my naked body, and it would only take a swipe of a mask and a click of a button for my life to come crumbling down.
“Thank you, slut. Now tell it to the others.”
I didn’t know where to turn to face each of the boys, so I just raised my head as if to speak to everyone in the room. “I’ll be a good little slut, Mister Thomas.”
“Go ahead and thank her, Thomas.”
“Th-thank you, s-slut.”
Someone shuffled on their feet, and I had the image of Thomas, the shyest of us all, blushing at saying such a statement. I had no idea if that were true, but the image gave me strength.
“I’ll be a good little slut, Mister Kyle.”
“Thank you, slut.”
My mind shifted to the image of Jackson, watching me. He was the last person I wanted to say this to. If I had just been quicker to respond to Lindsay, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Well, this more specific mess, not the huge mess this whole night had become. But sunk cost fallacy kept me going. I couldn’t just stop here. “I’ll be a good little slut, Mister Jackson.”
“Thank you. Slut.” It was less of a thanks, like the others, and more like a statement. He wasn’t thanking me. He was simply stating that I was a slut. His slut.
Lindsay clapped her hands. “Good. Now that that’s been settled, let’s find out what’s the sluttiest pose you can do. For your last pose, let’s have you stand in the middle of the room…” She grabbed my leash and pulled. I thought I was already in the center of the room, but apparently I was off since Lindsay pulled me a few feet to the left.
“Okay, now grab your tits and squeeze.”
I whimpered, but brought up my hands to my tits. There was enough of my chest to play with, but they weren’t huge like some girls I knew.
I squeezed, grabbing the bottom of my tits and pushing them up. I blushed at the sensation—I hardly played with my tits, and doing so in front of everyone felt awkward and, well…slutty.
“Good. Now move them around a bit. Bend forward and spread your legs and up on your tiptoes.”
This was humiliating. I wasn’t even questioning or resisting Lindsay’s requests. My body just started to automatically push, squeeze, and spread my test. Despite the focus on my tits, all I could think about was my stomach and it labored breathing.
I was forcing my body to do things it wasn’t made to do, manipulating my tits like marbles and balancing precariously on the tips of my toes. I was sure I was giving them an excellent angle on my crotch and tits with my elevated position. I felt someone kneel beside me and take a picture of my bare pussy from only a few inches away. I groaned, resisting the urge to shut my legs. How many pictures did they need? I couldn’t imagine there was any part of my body that wasn’t cataloged and stored in their phones.
“Okay. Now, that’s it. You can put your hands down, slut.”
I gasped a sigh of relief and let my hands fall to my side.
“I think she earned that. Don’t you think so, boys?”
The boys mumbled their agreement. I figured most of their blood had rushed south. In a way, Lindsay was the only one thinking clearly at the moment.
“Okay, ready for the next part of your night, slut?”
I opened my mouth to complain. Hadn’t I gone through enough? The whole ordeal of the four poses just to get my handcuffs off had dragged on for what felt like a lifetime. How could I still have an entire night to go?
“You should be grateful, slut,” Lindsay said. When was the last time someone used my name? “Ask me why.”
“W-why, Miss Lindsay?”
“Because I’m finally going to give you what you’ve been wanting the entire night.”
She didn’t have to say what she said next, since I already knew what I’ve been wanting all night. But I couldn’t bear to admit to myself. It was the ultimate shame.
“I’m going to let yourself get off, right here on the table.”
A silence fell over the group. While it was painfully obvious—even inevitable—to Lindsay and I, it hadn’t occurred to the boys that they might actually witness me orgasming and writhing on the table in front of them like an animal in heat. A strange mixture of relief, excitement, and dread came over me. Despite my moments of weakness where I thought I wouldn’t care who saw me, now I realized I did. I couldn’t bear the thought of pleasuring myself in front of boys. It would be something private they would witness, and I would never be able to forget that.
“Y-you’re not going to take pictures of me touching myself, are you?”
“Of course not,” Lindsay said. “For such a special treat like this, we won’t take pictures.”
She paused for a moment, and I knew there was more coming.
“No, for a moment like this, we’re going to record everything.”
*I have maybe one chapter left of ideas for the rest of this story, and I'm not sure if people are enjoying this story, so if any of you have ideas of how you would like this story to continue, please let me know!*
“For your handcuffs,” Lindsay reminded me. “We still have the rest of the night ahead of us.”
Right. My handcuffs. This whole humiliation portion of the night had been my fault. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of being restrained for much longer. If I had just kept my mouth shut, I wouldn’t have opened myself up to negotiations.
I forced myself onto my hands. Every movement was calculated, to move in a way to protect my privates and yet still stay mostly uncovered so the others had no reason to punish me.
Lindsay grabbed the collar by my neck and pulled. Used to the slack given by the leash, I yelped and scrambled to my feet.
I hadn’t stood up straight for a while, and I felt awkward just standing there naked without being able to cover myself.
“Okay, for this last pose, I want you to be as slutty as possible? Do you think you can do that?” Lindsay asked.
There was no good response to that. By agreeing to such a statement, I opened up possibilities that I didn’t want to think about. But if I didn’t agree to it, then my disobedience would give Lindsay enough ammo to come up with a new punishment for me.
I scrambled for a third option, but my brain was too fuzzy and my body was too tired to think.
“Taylor!”
I whimpered. “I’m sorry! Umm…”
“If you can’t make up your mind quickly, we may need to put those handcuffs back on.”
That was enough for me. The thought of having to put those handcuffs back on after already letting them photograph me in three humiliating poses was awful. It would be like I gave them the pictures for free. I regretted making the deal, but no way was I going to relinquish my gains from it.
“Y—y-yes,” I stuttered. “I’ll be slutty.”
“As slutty as you can?”
I swallowed, but I was past the point of no return. “I’ll be as slutty as I can.”
Her fingers grazed my bare pussy. “You’ll be a good little slut?”
That was too far, and she knew it. We had gone from “maid” to “pet” to “slut” in a matter of hours, each with its own connotations. But I had no choice.
I held in a groan from Lindsay’s flirting fingers on my pussy. “I’ll be a good little slut.”
“Say it to each of us. And use your manners.”
“I’ll be a good little slut, Miss Lindsay.”
I winced. It sounded awful. And I still had to say it three more times. But I couldn’t back down. I couldn’t give Lindsay a reason. She had ammo now: pictures, real pictures of my naked body, and it would only take a swipe of a mask and a click of a button for my life to come crumbling down.
“Thank you, slut. Now tell it to the others.”
I didn’t know where to turn to face each of the boys, so I just raised my head as if to speak to everyone in the room. “I’ll be a good little slut, Mister Thomas.”
“Go ahead and thank her, Thomas.”
“Th-thank you, s-slut.”
Someone shuffled on their feet, and I had the image of Thomas, the shyest of us all, blushing at saying such a statement. I had no idea if that were true, but the image gave me strength.
“I’ll be a good little slut, Mister Kyle.”
“Thank you, slut.”
My mind shifted to the image of Jackson, watching me. He was the last person I wanted to say this to. If I had just been quicker to respond to Lindsay, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Well, this more specific mess, not the huge mess this whole night had become. But sunk cost fallacy kept me going. I couldn’t just stop here. “I’ll be a good little slut, Mister Jackson.”
“Thank you. Slut.” It was less of a thanks, like the others, and more like a statement. He wasn’t thanking me. He was simply stating that I was a slut. His slut.
Lindsay clapped her hands. “Good. Now that that’s been settled, let’s find out what’s the sluttiest pose you can do. For your last pose, let’s have you stand in the middle of the room…” She grabbed my leash and pulled. I thought I was already in the center of the room, but apparently I was off since Lindsay pulled me a few feet to the left.
“Okay, now grab your tits and squeeze.”
I whimpered, but brought up my hands to my tits. There was enough of my chest to play with, but they weren’t huge like some girls I knew.
I squeezed, grabbing the bottom of my tits and pushing them up. I blushed at the sensation—I hardly played with my tits, and doing so in front of everyone felt awkward and, well…slutty.
“Good. Now move them around a bit. Bend forward and spread your legs and up on your tiptoes.”
This was humiliating. I wasn’t even questioning or resisting Lindsay’s requests. My body just started to automatically push, squeeze, and spread my test. Despite the focus on my tits, all I could think about was my stomach and it labored breathing.
I was forcing my body to do things it wasn’t made to do, manipulating my tits like marbles and balancing precariously on the tips of my toes. I was sure I was giving them an excellent angle on my crotch and tits with my elevated position. I felt someone kneel beside me and take a picture of my bare pussy from only a few inches away. I groaned, resisting the urge to shut my legs. How many pictures did they need? I couldn’t imagine there was any part of my body that wasn’t cataloged and stored in their phones.
“Okay. Now, that’s it. You can put your hands down, slut.”
I gasped a sigh of relief and let my hands fall to my side.
“I think she earned that. Don’t you think so, boys?”
The boys mumbled their agreement. I figured most of their blood had rushed south. In a way, Lindsay was the only one thinking clearly at the moment.
“Okay, ready for the next part of your night, slut?”
I opened my mouth to complain. Hadn’t I gone through enough? The whole ordeal of the four poses just to get my handcuffs off had dragged on for what felt like a lifetime. How could I still have an entire night to go?
“You should be grateful, slut,” Lindsay said. When was the last time someone used my name? “Ask me why.”
“W-why, Miss Lindsay?”
“Because I’m finally going to give you what you’ve been wanting the entire night.”
She didn’t have to say what she said next, since I already knew what I’ve been wanting all night. But I couldn’t bear to admit to myself. It was the ultimate shame.
“I’m going to let yourself get off, right here on the table.”
A silence fell over the group. While it was painfully obvious—even inevitable—to Lindsay and I, it hadn’t occurred to the boys that they might actually witness me orgasming and writhing on the table in front of them like an animal in heat. A strange mixture of relief, excitement, and dread came over me. Despite my moments of weakness where I thought I wouldn’t care who saw me, now I realized I did. I couldn’t bear the thought of pleasuring myself in front of boys. It would be something private they would witness, and I would never be able to forget that.
“Y-you’re not going to take pictures of me touching myself, are you?”
“Of course not,” Lindsay said. “For such a special treat like this, we won’t take pictures.”
She paused for a moment, and I knew there was more coming.
“No, for a moment like this, we’re going to record everything.”
*I have maybe one chapter left of ideas for the rest of this story, and I'm not sure if people are enjoying this story, so if any of you have ideas of how you would like this story to continue, please let me know!*
- jastes22
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Part 17: For the Record
All the blood that had been gathering on my face the entire night suddenly disappeared, and I felt as white as a sheet.
“Record? Like…take a video?”
“Mmm? Yes, slut. A video. Would you like that?”
I didn’t see how a video would make me enjoy an experience, but obviously that’s not something that concerned Lindsay. “Umm…”
Her palms smashed down on my tits at an angle, striking the more fatty part of my tits than the actual skin. Still, I squealed and stepped back, only for Lindsay to pull me in again and begin striking the other tit in rapid succession.
“One more chance, slut,” she said.
“Y-yes,” I gasped. “I would like you to record me pleasuring myself.”
“Beg me for it.”
Beg?
“P-please!” I gasped, “Please record me pleasuring myself.”
“You would just love that, wouldn’t you, slut?”
Despite the blatant manipulation, I still blushed at the implication that I actually wanted what was about to happen.
Come on, now.” She grabbed my leash and pulled me to the table. It was a complicated endeavor, going up and down the table without being able to see, but I was getting the hang of it. I just didn’t want to give the boys any more reason to touch me.
I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. The constant escalation of the night should have prepared me for it, but it was like my mind was still playing catch up from when Lindsay had taken my panties.
A video? Of me orgasming and writhing on the table? It was humiliating to think about
It was fine, I told myself. I could feel the anxiety and fear in my body growing. If I wasn’t careful, I would lash out at Lindsay and just get into more trouble,
No, a video recording of one of the most private things a girl could do to herself was fine, I repeated. It sounded insane. Allowing myself to be videoed, naked, while cumming was fine?
Yes! I repeated to myself a third time. A video was just a series of continuous pictures. Nothing that the boys didn’t already have.
But it was different. Pictures, single moments in time, could be interpreted in so many different ways because nobody knew what came before or after them. But a video? That got everything. There would be no hiding the fact that I would enjoy getting off on myself while being videotaped like some porn actress.
“Spread your legs, slut, just like when we shaved you.”
I held in a groan. Great. Now we were revisiting parts of the night. I opened up, though, my legs making a V with my shaved pussy at its center.
I moved my fingers to my pussy.
“Wait,” Lindsay said.
The boys groaned.
“Patience, boys. I just want to set some ground rules for our little slut.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“First, once you start, you can’t stop until you cum. You must keep going. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Miss Lindsay,” I said quickly. Frankly, I wasn’t sure that, once I started, I would be able to stop even if I were allowed.
“Next, we want to hear you make some good, loud, groans, like a real slut. And they better be real. We’ll know if they’re not. Do you understand?”
This took me longer. I had touched myself plenty before, but I wasn’t a moaner. It would be a challenge to remind myself in the middle of orgasming to moan. Suddenly, the fact that Lindsay was the only girl in the room became alarming. I might be able to trick a few boys into thinking my moans—real or not—were pleasurable, but it would be much more difficult to convince another girl.
“I understand, Miss Lindsay.”
“And finally, and this is the most important one, I think: If it takes longer than two minutes to come, this video is going online.”
The words choked in my throat. Online? This whole night had stayed in Lindsay’s home, and I was doing everything I could to keep it that way. If this got online, it was only a matter of time before someone pieced together who it was under the mask, on Lindsay’s table, plunging her fingers inside her pussy for everyone to see.”
“I…understand…Miss Lindsay.”
“Good, slut,” she said. Fingers ran down my stomach and then gave my left tit a squeeze. I breathed in sharply. With everything building up so quickly, it was hard to keep track of it all. Don’t stop until I cum. Moan loudly. And do it quicker than two minutes. I had no idea how long it usually took me to climax, but the only thing that mattered now was making that two-minute mark.
“Aaand…go!”
My fingers slid into my pussy easily, my pussy well lubricated from how wet I already felt. My hips swayed with the rhythm of my strokes, my butt humping against the hard wood at a macabre beat. I stroked my pussy for a few good seconds before I remembered my second condition.
Unsure what a “genuine” moan sounded like, I let out a loud, guttural moan that rumbled in my stomach. Once the first one came out, more came out easily. I wasn’t sure what they would do if they decided my moans weren’t real, but I didn’t want to find out.
I realized another thing about having a video of me masturbating than just pictures. Videos had audio. If I wasn’t careful, someone could listen to my “moans” and match them up with my actual voice. That realization only served to make my moan even more deep and exagarrated
How much time had it been? I had tried to keep track for the first few seconds, but it was too difficult to do that while also focusing on the moaning and the intensity growing in my crotch.
As I continued to thrust and swirl my fingers in my pussy, my other hand came up to stroke my tits. I became aware of the fact that four pairs of eyes—and four cell phones— were watching and recording me debase myself in front of them. I had hardly given any resistance to the idea of them watching me doing such a private act. I would have given it more thought if the stakes hadn’t been so high.
I never went this fast, usually, but I had no choice. The change in pace was exciting, and I felt myself dig further and harder than I had ever done in the past.
Finally, the dam burst, and a single, final moan burst through my mouth. Cum exploded from my pussy and covered my fingers. I didn’t stop, instead diffing further to draw out every little bit of ecstasy I could.
I groaned and let my head fall back to the ground, my hand still partially inside me. I was breathing hard, and my head felt light, like when you spin around too fast and you can’t think straight.
All of that had been recorded. It was all there, for all four of them to watch again and again.
Suddenly, there was an unmistakable sound of knuckles on wood. At first, I didn’t understand it, content to just lay in my cum and salvage the last bits of pleasure coming from my womanhood
Reality struck. My mind suddenly made sense of what was going on. Knuckles on wood. The feeling of ecstasy immediately turned into terror.
Someone was knocking on the door.
“Record? Like…take a video?”
“Mmm? Yes, slut. A video. Would you like that?”
I didn’t see how a video would make me enjoy an experience, but obviously that’s not something that concerned Lindsay. “Umm…”
Her palms smashed down on my tits at an angle, striking the more fatty part of my tits than the actual skin. Still, I squealed and stepped back, only for Lindsay to pull me in again and begin striking the other tit in rapid succession.
“One more chance, slut,” she said.
“Y-yes,” I gasped. “I would like you to record me pleasuring myself.”
“Beg me for it.”
Beg?
“P-please!” I gasped, “Please record me pleasuring myself.”
“You would just love that, wouldn’t you, slut?”
Despite the blatant manipulation, I still blushed at the implication that I actually wanted what was about to happen.
Come on, now.” She grabbed my leash and pulled me to the table. It was a complicated endeavor, going up and down the table without being able to see, but I was getting the hang of it. I just didn’t want to give the boys any more reason to touch me.
I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. The constant escalation of the night should have prepared me for it, but it was like my mind was still playing catch up from when Lindsay had taken my panties.
A video? Of me orgasming and writhing on the table? It was humiliating to think about
It was fine, I told myself. I could feel the anxiety and fear in my body growing. If I wasn’t careful, I would lash out at Lindsay and just get into more trouble,
No, a video recording of one of the most private things a girl could do to herself was fine, I repeated. It sounded insane. Allowing myself to be videoed, naked, while cumming was fine?
Yes! I repeated to myself a third time. A video was just a series of continuous pictures. Nothing that the boys didn’t already have.
But it was different. Pictures, single moments in time, could be interpreted in so many different ways because nobody knew what came before or after them. But a video? That got everything. There would be no hiding the fact that I would enjoy getting off on myself while being videotaped like some porn actress.
“Spread your legs, slut, just like when we shaved you.”
I held in a groan. Great. Now we were revisiting parts of the night. I opened up, though, my legs making a V with my shaved pussy at its center.
I moved my fingers to my pussy.
“Wait,” Lindsay said.
The boys groaned.
“Patience, boys. I just want to set some ground rules for our little slut.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“First, once you start, you can’t stop until you cum. You must keep going. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Miss Lindsay,” I said quickly. Frankly, I wasn’t sure that, once I started, I would be able to stop even if I were allowed.
“Next, we want to hear you make some good, loud, groans, like a real slut. And they better be real. We’ll know if they’re not. Do you understand?”
This took me longer. I had touched myself plenty before, but I wasn’t a moaner. It would be a challenge to remind myself in the middle of orgasming to moan. Suddenly, the fact that Lindsay was the only girl in the room became alarming. I might be able to trick a few boys into thinking my moans—real or not—were pleasurable, but it would be much more difficult to convince another girl.
“I understand, Miss Lindsay.”
“And finally, and this is the most important one, I think: If it takes longer than two minutes to come, this video is going online.”
The words choked in my throat. Online? This whole night had stayed in Lindsay’s home, and I was doing everything I could to keep it that way. If this got online, it was only a matter of time before someone pieced together who it was under the mask, on Lindsay’s table, plunging her fingers inside her pussy for everyone to see.”
“I…understand…Miss Lindsay.”
“Good, slut,” she said. Fingers ran down my stomach and then gave my left tit a squeeze. I breathed in sharply. With everything building up so quickly, it was hard to keep track of it all. Don’t stop until I cum. Moan loudly. And do it quicker than two minutes. I had no idea how long it usually took me to climax, but the only thing that mattered now was making that two-minute mark.
“Aaand…go!”
My fingers slid into my pussy easily, my pussy well lubricated from how wet I already felt. My hips swayed with the rhythm of my strokes, my butt humping against the hard wood at a macabre beat. I stroked my pussy for a few good seconds before I remembered my second condition.
Unsure what a “genuine” moan sounded like, I let out a loud, guttural moan that rumbled in my stomach. Once the first one came out, more came out easily. I wasn’t sure what they would do if they decided my moans weren’t real, but I didn’t want to find out.
I realized another thing about having a video of me masturbating than just pictures. Videos had audio. If I wasn’t careful, someone could listen to my “moans” and match them up with my actual voice. That realization only served to make my moan even more deep and exagarrated
How much time had it been? I had tried to keep track for the first few seconds, but it was too difficult to do that while also focusing on the moaning and the intensity growing in my crotch.
As I continued to thrust and swirl my fingers in my pussy, my other hand came up to stroke my tits. I became aware of the fact that four pairs of eyes—and four cell phones— were watching and recording me debase myself in front of them. I had hardly given any resistance to the idea of them watching me doing such a private act. I would have given it more thought if the stakes hadn’t been so high.
I never went this fast, usually, but I had no choice. The change in pace was exciting, and I felt myself dig further and harder than I had ever done in the past.
Finally, the dam burst, and a single, final moan burst through my mouth. Cum exploded from my pussy and covered my fingers. I didn’t stop, instead diffing further to draw out every little bit of ecstasy I could.
I groaned and let my head fall back to the ground, my hand still partially inside me. I was breathing hard, and my head felt light, like when you spin around too fast and you can’t think straight.
All of that had been recorded. It was all there, for all four of them to watch again and again.
Suddenly, there was an unmistakable sound of knuckles on wood. At first, I didn’t understand it, content to just lay in my cum and salvage the last bits of pleasure coming from my womanhood
Reality struck. My mind suddenly made sense of what was going on. Knuckles on wood. The feeling of ecstasy immediately turned into terror.
Someone was knocking on the door.
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 17 posted 11/8)
Ahhhhh!!!!! I can’t wait to see who may be at the door! Absolutely great addition.
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 17 posted 11/8)
HankHill33 wrote: ↑Thu Nov 09, 2023 2:06 am Ahhhhh!!!!! I can’t wait to see who may be at the door! Absolutely great addition.
Me TOO!!! Great addition to a marvelous story. Can't wait for more.
Hooked6
- jastes22
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 17 posted 11/8)
Thank you!Hooked6 wrote: ↑Thu Nov 09, 2023 10:17 amHankHill33 wrote: ↑Thu Nov 09, 2023 2:06 am Ahhhhh!!!!! I can’t wait to see who may be at the door! Absolutely great addition.
Me TOO!!! Great addition to a marvelous story. Can't wait for more.
Hooked6
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 17 posted 11/8)
Damn, saw you'd replied and there I was hoping we were about to find out who was at the door! Curses!
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- jastes22
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Part 18: The Visitor
Panic. Sheer panic.
Someone was at the door! Someone wanted to come in while I was completely naked on the dining room table, my cum-covered fingers still inside me.
I had kept my composure mostly throughout the night. The shame of being stripped and forced to obey every one of my friends’ commands had kept me quiet and relatively calm, like a muzzle on a dog. But now the thought of another person outside our little group actually seeing me like this was terrifying. I had my mask still, yes, but that was hardly a comfort when it was literally my last stitch of clothing.
“Well, boys? Should we go see who it is?” Lindsay asked.
I groaned.
“Now, now, slut,” Lindsay whispered, her tone darker than anything I had heard throughout the entire night. “You better behave perfectly in front of our guest, or you will be punished…severely. Do you understand? Perfect obedience.”
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded furiously.
“Say it.”
“I…I understand, Miss Lindsay.” My voice was high and squeaky. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I could hardly remember what the bet was that led to all this in the first place
“Good. Now you wait here with your hands behind your back while we go greet our guest.”
Sound of footsteps walking away from me.
The door opens.
Who was it? Did Lindsay invite them when it became apparent that I had no power to resist? Or did one of the boys secretly convince someone to come over? Despite what was about to happen, the thought of one of them inviting someone to come and participate in my humiliation despite not being part of our group felt extremely violating.
Or was it some stranger? Some random person, a neighbor or a friend from somewhere else that just happened to knock on the door and was about to get a lot more than they could ever expect?
The biggest question, though, was whether or not our visitor knew who I was. A complete stranger that I would never encounter again I could stomach, but if they knew me…I would have to do everything in my power not to let them discover my true identity.
Remembering Lindsay’s commands, I placed my hands behind my back. I was back to wearing handcuffs, even if it was only Lindsay’s words that bound me. Even when she wasn’t around, she still had power over me.
“Oh, hey!” I heard Lindsay exclaim from the foyer. “It’s so good to see you!”
The visitor exchanged pleasantries. From what I could tell, the visitor was a girl, about my age. My brain foggy with wild imaginations with what about to happen, I couldn’t decide if it was better or worse that our visitor was another girl. A boy would be humiliating for obvious reasons, but a girl was terrible as well, since she would know exactly how humiliating this was in a more intimate way than a boy would.
“Come on in. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Footsteps into the dining room. I swallowed. This was it. This was it.
The footsteps stopped, and there was a pause. I blushed at the image of some faceless stranger looking at me, examining me. The reality that I was very, very naked hit me again, and suddenly I felt as self-conscious as I did when Lindsay took my panties.
“Wow,” the visitor said. “You got her to do that on her own?”
It was remarkable how even just the loss of sight made it impossible to determine who was speaking. I racked my brain to see if I recognized the voice, but I couldn’t put her words to a face. It sounded vaguely familiar, but that may have been because all girls sounded at least a little alike. I decided that either I didn’t know her at all, or I didn’t know her well. That was something, at least.
But even if I didn’t, there was the slightest chance that this stranger would run into me again if she could drop in on Lindsay at a moment’s notice.
“Yep!” Lindsay said. “She’s our perfect little slut.”
I was suddenly very glad that Lindsay had only been using my new title of “slut” for the past hour or so, regardless of how demeaning it was. Better”slut” than my name in front of our visitor.
“She practically begged us to get out of her clothes,” Lindsay said.
I squeezed my fingers together tighter and resisted the urge to cover up. The only thing that stopped me was Lindsay’s threat from earlier. Perfect obedience. I needed to be perfectly obedient.
“Say hello, slut,” Lindsay commanded.
“H-hello,” I said. It came out more as a gasp than a real word. Everything I did—or Lindsay made me do—would be a clue to my real identity. If our visitor knew me, even my voice could give me away.
I couldn’t decide if knowing my visitor would be better or worse. If I knew her, I would be terrified that she would somehow find out who I was, especially if we were in frequent contact with each other.
But if I didn’t know her, then I would have to live with the fact that someone out there had seen every inch of me, and I had no way of knowing who.
“Can we see who’s under there?” the visitor asked.
“Unfortunately, no. I made a promise with our slut that we wouldn’t reveal her identity. But if she misbehaves…”
There was the slightest tug on my mask. Not enough to make it actually go anywhere, but enough that I could feel it actually move. I squeaked and let out a half-moan of desperation.
“Quiet, slut.”
I bit my lips, as if even having my mouth open would lead to inadvertent noise.
“Our cute little slut here even let us take pictures.”
I swallowed an objection. Lindsay said those pictures wouldn’t be shared, and I definitely didn’t consent to those pictures willingly. Well, I did, but it wasn’t easy, and Lindsay made it sound like I had been eager to let it happen.
There was a pause as the visitor perused Lindsay’s pictures.
“Oh, I like that one!” The visitor said.
“Do you want it? I can share it with you.”
No no no no! The boys were bound by their respect for me to not share their pictures, but some stranger could share her pictures as much as she wanted with no thought to who was under the mask.
“Feel free to take some pictures of your own.”
My heart sank, but I stood there quietly as our visitor stepped around me and documented me with her phone.
“And, of course, you have to see this video of our slut getting off on herself.”
The sound of my moans filled the dining room. I blushed. Those moans were greatly exaggerated, forced by threat of further exposure, but our visitor didn’t know that. To her, it would seem like I was deeply enjoying it.
How much longer was this nightmare going to last? With the threat of my identity being exposed to a complete stranger looming, I had absolutely no power, even less than at the start of the night.
What did Lindsay have planned for me the rest of the night?
Someone was at the door! Someone wanted to come in while I was completely naked on the dining room table, my cum-covered fingers still inside me.
I had kept my composure mostly throughout the night. The shame of being stripped and forced to obey every one of my friends’ commands had kept me quiet and relatively calm, like a muzzle on a dog. But now the thought of another person outside our little group actually seeing me like this was terrifying. I had my mask still, yes, but that was hardly a comfort when it was literally my last stitch of clothing.
“Well, boys? Should we go see who it is?” Lindsay asked.
I groaned.
“Now, now, slut,” Lindsay whispered, her tone darker than anything I had heard throughout the entire night. “You better behave perfectly in front of our guest, or you will be punished…severely. Do you understand? Perfect obedience.”
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded furiously.
“Say it.”
“I…I understand, Miss Lindsay.” My voice was high and squeaky. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I could hardly remember what the bet was that led to all this in the first place
“Good. Now you wait here with your hands behind your back while we go greet our guest.”
Sound of footsteps walking away from me.
The door opens.
Who was it? Did Lindsay invite them when it became apparent that I had no power to resist? Or did one of the boys secretly convince someone to come over? Despite what was about to happen, the thought of one of them inviting someone to come and participate in my humiliation despite not being part of our group felt extremely violating.
Or was it some stranger? Some random person, a neighbor or a friend from somewhere else that just happened to knock on the door and was about to get a lot more than they could ever expect?
The biggest question, though, was whether or not our visitor knew who I was. A complete stranger that I would never encounter again I could stomach, but if they knew me…I would have to do everything in my power not to let them discover my true identity.
Remembering Lindsay’s commands, I placed my hands behind my back. I was back to wearing handcuffs, even if it was only Lindsay’s words that bound me. Even when she wasn’t around, she still had power over me.
“Oh, hey!” I heard Lindsay exclaim from the foyer. “It’s so good to see you!”
The visitor exchanged pleasantries. From what I could tell, the visitor was a girl, about my age. My brain foggy with wild imaginations with what about to happen, I couldn’t decide if it was better or worse that our visitor was another girl. A boy would be humiliating for obvious reasons, but a girl was terrible as well, since she would know exactly how humiliating this was in a more intimate way than a boy would.
“Come on in. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Footsteps into the dining room. I swallowed. This was it. This was it.
The footsteps stopped, and there was a pause. I blushed at the image of some faceless stranger looking at me, examining me. The reality that I was very, very naked hit me again, and suddenly I felt as self-conscious as I did when Lindsay took my panties.
“Wow,” the visitor said. “You got her to do that on her own?”
It was remarkable how even just the loss of sight made it impossible to determine who was speaking. I racked my brain to see if I recognized the voice, but I couldn’t put her words to a face. It sounded vaguely familiar, but that may have been because all girls sounded at least a little alike. I decided that either I didn’t know her at all, or I didn’t know her well. That was something, at least.
But even if I didn’t, there was the slightest chance that this stranger would run into me again if she could drop in on Lindsay at a moment’s notice.
“Yep!” Lindsay said. “She’s our perfect little slut.”
I was suddenly very glad that Lindsay had only been using my new title of “slut” for the past hour or so, regardless of how demeaning it was. Better”slut” than my name in front of our visitor.
“She practically begged us to get out of her clothes,” Lindsay said.
I squeezed my fingers together tighter and resisted the urge to cover up. The only thing that stopped me was Lindsay’s threat from earlier. Perfect obedience. I needed to be perfectly obedient.
“Say hello, slut,” Lindsay commanded.
“H-hello,” I said. It came out more as a gasp than a real word. Everything I did—or Lindsay made me do—would be a clue to my real identity. If our visitor knew me, even my voice could give me away.
I couldn’t decide if knowing my visitor would be better or worse. If I knew her, I would be terrified that she would somehow find out who I was, especially if we were in frequent contact with each other.
But if I didn’t know her, then I would have to live with the fact that someone out there had seen every inch of me, and I had no way of knowing who.
“Can we see who’s under there?” the visitor asked.
“Unfortunately, no. I made a promise with our slut that we wouldn’t reveal her identity. But if she misbehaves…”
There was the slightest tug on my mask. Not enough to make it actually go anywhere, but enough that I could feel it actually move. I squeaked and let out a half-moan of desperation.
“Quiet, slut.”
I bit my lips, as if even having my mouth open would lead to inadvertent noise.
“Our cute little slut here even let us take pictures.”
I swallowed an objection. Lindsay said those pictures wouldn’t be shared, and I definitely didn’t consent to those pictures willingly. Well, I did, but it wasn’t easy, and Lindsay made it sound like I had been eager to let it happen.
There was a pause as the visitor perused Lindsay’s pictures.
“Oh, I like that one!” The visitor said.
“Do you want it? I can share it with you.”
No no no no! The boys were bound by their respect for me to not share their pictures, but some stranger could share her pictures as much as she wanted with no thought to who was under the mask.
“Feel free to take some pictures of your own.”
My heart sank, but I stood there quietly as our visitor stepped around me and documented me with her phone.
“And, of course, you have to see this video of our slut getting off on herself.”
The sound of my moans filled the dining room. I blushed. Those moans were greatly exaggerated, forced by threat of further exposure, but our visitor didn’t know that. To her, it would seem like I was deeply enjoying it.
How much longer was this nightmare going to last? With the threat of my identity being exposed to a complete stranger looming, I had absolutely no power, even less than at the start of the night.
What did Lindsay have planned for me the rest of the night?
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 18 posted 11/11)
Nicely written. I can't wait to see what Lindsey will have her do. I sure hope the mysterious visitor doesn't say too much to give herself away. I love how you have maintained the mystery surrounding the guest's identity. That alone would drive Taylor crazy - especially of she thinks it might be someone that she knows but hasn't a clue who it might be.
Great stuff!
Hooked6
Great stuff!
Hooked6
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Re: Maid for a Night (Part 18 posted 11/11)
Very nicely written, liking the intrigue of the 'maybe known' interloper, just wondering how long until Taylor inevitably snaps.... or if she'll wait to be 'utterly destroyed' and either seek revenge/slash her wrists/run away/or something else.
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