Wheals of Fortune Ch. 04

'No!' I said, and wiggled my arse. She understood at once, and started to ease the point of the taper into my eager anus. I longed for its pain and ecstasy, and when the cruel implement stretched my arsehole, and plunged deep within, I cried out for mercy I didn't want, took over the end from Greta, and pumped it for myself, just the couple of times necessary to be consumed by a raging climax. I sighed with relief when it was over, and we slept together that night like lovers, entwined in an embrace that lasted until morning.

Next day Ana took us to a Commercial Centre on the outskirts of Madrid, where she bought Greta a small suitcase, two changes of clothes, and all the cosmetics she would need. She had been in touch with her sister, and knew what to get, so I was no more than an observer, merely amused when Greta asked why she wasn't buying her any underwear. I knew Mistress Rosa would have forbidden it, to prepare the girl for her new life. Although she wasn't going to be a slave, at least for the time being, certain 'house rules' had to be observed, I knew.

Next day was my last at the hotel, and I was going to be almost sad to leave. It was a lovely warm day, and I strolled alone on a path leading out into the woods at the rear of the hotel, wearing just a cotton sundress and sandals. Reaching a tinkling little stream, I sat on the bank, slipped off my sandals, and dangled my feet into the cool water.

I hardly heard the approach of the bicycle until it was upon me, and Sergio, was looking down at me, having gently put his mountain bike down against a bush.

He smiled awkwardly, so I patted the grass beside me in an invitation for him to join me. He slid down by my side, and said, 'I am happy to see you, yes?'

He had a broad smile on his face, and he had exhausted his English, so I took his patted his arm to show I understood. He had changed into shorts, having finished his morning shift, and had nicely muscled legs, I noticed.

I couldn't resist stroking his lower leg, and feeling the hardness of the muscle there.

'Good,' I said.

He looked at me uncertainly, and then replied by strokingmyleg.

'You also good,' he said, with a cheeky grin.

What the hell, I thought, and snaked my arm around his neck, pulling him towards me, and offering him my lips. He shuddered noticeably when he felt the unexpected thrill of my tongue-stud against the roof of his mouth, and I couldn't resist stroking my hand lightly over the front of his shorts – the bulge was interesting! He kissed me with a clumsiness that came of urgency coupled with inexperience, and I knew I shouldn't expect a lot from this raw youth. I pushed him gently away, and he mistook my action for rejection, but then saw I was smiling, and resembled a lost puppy. I slowly slid up the hem of my skirt, looking at him the whole time, the tip of my tongue darting out a fraction between slightly parted lips, in a gesture I knew few men could resist. When I looked downwards, then watched his reaction from under lowered eyelids, I saw his eyes flick down to my now-revealed pussy, and parted my legs so that he could see the pink promise of my crack. Then, slowly once again, I slipped two fingers between my legs, and eased my outer labia apart.

Sergio groaned as I showed him the moist haven of my cunt, the silver ring glinting in the sunlight as it hung from my clit. I spread my lips wide, affording him a view of the dark hole of my vagina, and, when I looked at him again, sweat was beading on his forehead, and running down his neck.

I reached for the elasticated waistband of his shorts, and quickly pushed my way inside, finding his cock, hard as a rock, and as thick as any I had come across, but not very long.

I pushed down his shorts and his weapon sprung out in my hand.

'Oh, oh, Julie,' he gasped, and came, there and then, thick spurts of creamy cum covering my hand, wrist and arm.

'I'm sorry,' he said, 'sorry, sorry!'

'It's OK,' I said, 'have you got a tissue?'

He looked blank.

'Kleenex?' That drew a response, and he fished a packet out of his pocket. I cleaned up a bit, and then we sat together, companionably silent, watching the stream, listening to the snatches of birdsong, each with our own thoughts.

After a while, I tried a conversation, in my newly acquired Spanish, and asked him if he had a girlfriend. It seemed he had, but she wouldn't let him touch her until they got married. He was a virgin, and my heart went out to him. The discussion grew tender, and I kissed him again, more gently this time, and let him fondle my breasts. It was obviously so new and fresh for him, that it almost made me feel like a virgin again myself, and I found my nipples hardening to his touch. When I touched his cock this time, it was just growing hard, and his moans were those of a young man who is enjoying his first real sexual experience – now I knew.

I lay back on the warm grass, and opened myself to Sergio, pulling him on top of me, and guiding his prick home into the wet warmth of my waiting cunt, then locking my legs around his thighs as he rode me. But it was I who was doing the fucking, controlling his strokes, leading him as a dance-partner would, until I could abandon myself to a certain orgasm, and let him drive wildly at his task, until he shot his day's second load from his young and eager tool, this time deep within me. He was a virgin no longer.

It hadn't been the most earth-shattering climax of all time, but I was nicely satisfied, and when I saw the young guy's beaming smile as he sat there beside the stream, his breathing recovering its normal cadence, I felt happy that I had helped him towards adulthood.

Greta sat beside me in the back seat of the taxi, self-consciously tugging at the hem of her miniskirt – she hadn't yet grown accustomed to the feeling of being without underwear – and smiling nervously at me as I pointed out buildings and other landmarks on our way home from the airport. She had come through immigration without difficulty with her brand new passport. My Mistress had phoned me the night before to apologise, saying she couldn't meet us at the airport, but to get a taxi for the forty-five minute journey.

Although I had enjoyed what had been my first holiday in years, and had really relaxed in Spain, I was anxious to be back with my Mistress, and hoped she had missed me as much as I had missed her. It was getting dark when we arrived at the house, and there were no lights on. I knew that Mistress Rosa was at a business meeting with her husband, which was why she had been unable to come to the airport, so, after letting myself in with my key, I showed Greta to her room, which I presumed would be the one that Pilar had used. When I opened the door, I saw that I had been right, as the room was freshly cleaned, and smelt of lavender. Laid out on the bed was a new uniform for Greta – Ana had evidently given her sister Greta's size. Greta giggled when she saw the uniform, but couldn't wait to try it on. While I checked her bathroom for toiletries and the like, she had shrugged out of the skirt and blouse she arrived in, and had slipped on the black satin garter belt. She carefully eased on the unfamiliar long seamed black stockings, then slid over her head the tiny black silk flared mini-dress. All that remained was to step into the highest stilettos she had ever worn, tie the little white, lace-trimmed apron around her waist, and she was transformed into the sexiest maidservant anyone could wish for. When I told her so, she giggled again, but grimaced when she first tottered around on the unaccustomed heels.

'You'll have to get used to them,' I told her, 'those and many other things, in the next few weeks!' I left her practising walking around, and went to shower and change.

No sooner had I got to my room than the telephone rang. It was my Mistress.

'Oh my dear Julie, so you arrived?'

'Yes Mistress, I can't wait to see you.'

'Nor I to see you. I'll be home in an hour. Make yourself beautiful for me, darling!'

I took a shower, brushed my hair until it shone, then took my time applying my make-up, not forgetting to rouge my nipples and labia. Then, gasping at the sharp pain, I fixed my ornate silver nipple-clamps in place, and clipped my weighted chain to the ring in my clit. Just these acts, after my break, were making me hot and starting my juices to well up deep within me. I wondered if my Mistress would want to whip me that evening – I certainly hoped so. Flipping through the gowns in my closet, I settled on a long, flowing ivory silk evening gown by Versace, open at the front down to the waist and loose-fitting, so that my breasts jiggled around as I walked, and the weighted chain between my clamps was visible in the gap of my cleavage. I buckled on my Mistress's collar, thinking how good it was to wear it once more, stepped into a pair of high-heeled sandals, and was ready.

I knocked on Greta's door, and she called out to me to enter. She was preening in front of the mirror, but stopped when she saw me, her jaw dropping open.

'My God,' she exclaimed, 'but you are...you are...so fantastic, Julie!'

'You must remember to call me Miss Julie in front of our Mistress. And she is always to be addressed as Mistress,' I told her, 'if you don't obey rules, you may be punished.'

She looked at me in an odd way, doing a double-take at the sight of the silver chain, with its jewelled ball attached, dangling in my cleavage, but she didn't query it, so I made no mention of it as we left her room to await our Mistress in the lounge.

Five minutes later, we heard her car pull up, and Mistress Rosa came in, preceded by a handsome young man in chauffeur's cap and blue uniform, carrying her bags. He stood aside while she greeted me with a warm hug and a deep kiss, and then held me at arm's length.

Then she pulled me into a soft embrace and whispered to me: 'You look lovely, Julie dear. I have missed you terribly. After dinner, we shall have the evening to ourselves – I'm sure there are things you have need of?'

'Oh Mistress, I have dreamed of having you do those things to me,' I breathed back into her ear, then, standing back, I presented Greta to her, and we were both introduced to Mistress Rosa's new chauffeur, Paul.

The Mistress sent Paul home, and then sent Greta off to the kitchen to receive instructions from the cook about serving dinner. When the Romanian had gone, she asked me to tell her a bit about the girl's background, and I told her what I knew. She looked thoughtful, and said, 'Hmmm, I think I'd like her to watch me whip you – what do you think?'

'I don't know, Mistress,' I said, 'maybe it's a bit too soon?'

'Yes, perhaps you're right dear,' she concurred, 'we'll keep that pleasure for another day.'

She licked her lips, 'I'll go and change now. I'll see you in the dining room.'

I wandered into the big dining room, poured myself a dry sherry, and sat on an easy chair, looking through a fashion magazine.

I stood automatically when Mistress Rosa came in. She was, as ever, immaculate, in a long, tight, backless black velvet dress which showed off her spectacular figure perfectly. Her long black hair cascaded, loose, down her back, and she wore long, matching gloves, and long diamond-studded silver pendants hung from her ear-lobes.

'Mistress, you look stunning!' I told her.

Thank you Julie,' she said graciously, as we took our seats at the table.

Greta quickly appeared with our first course, and, when she had laid down the plates, the Mistress said, 'Thank you, Greta. Now come here, and let me have a look at you.'

Greta approached Mistress Rosa's chair, and was treated to a close inspection, the Mistress's eyes running up and down her small lithe, black-clad body, while she stood uneasily beside her. Then she put a questing hand on Greta's black-stockinged leg, and ran it smoothly upwards, raising the hem of her short skirt, until she encountered the pale flesh above. Greta flinched as the Mistress's hand reached the tight folds of her labia, but it continued on up, and found the triangle of pubic hair which adorned her mound.

'You'll shave that off, tomorrow, at the latest!' she told her, 'I don't like to see any body hair around the house. Otherwise, I think you'll do fine, yes.' She allowed Greta's skirt to drop back in place, and she scuttled off to the kitchen, glancing back at me as she went – but I looked deliberately away.

'You did very well to bring her, my dear,' my Mistress told me, when she was out of earshot, 'I've been thinking, ever since Pilar left, that my next maid's duties may be extended a little.' She licked her lips once again, in a characteristic gesture I now recognised.

After dinner, Mistress Rosa sent Greta to her room, thanking her for serving dinner, and hoping she would be happy in her new life. She certainly seemed cheerful enough as she clicked away in her heels, smiling at me as she went.

'Perhaps you'd like to come to my room now, Julie?' said my Mistress, standing and extending a gloved hand to me.

I meekly allowed myself to be led to her room, where she could scarcely wait to unzip my dress, which fell to the floor without resistance, in a whisper of soft silk. She admired my nipple clamps, pulling at their chain so that I gasped at the pain, and then admired the chain I had connected to my clit-ring. But I looked pleadingly at her.

'I know, darling, I know what you crave. Kneel on the floor, now!'

I did as she bid me to, and she produced a pair of standard handcuffs, deftly cuffing my wrists behind my back.

'I see you left your hair down,' she observed, as she was fetching her favourite leather riding crop from the drawer, 'that leaves me few options, my dear!'

I knew that wasn't true – usually, she simply lifted my heavy mane of hair over my shoulder and out of the way before whipping my back – but now she stood beside me, and slightly behind, so that I had to twist my head around to see her, and, without any warning, lashed me cruelly across the top of my breasts. The pain was instant, an awful, stinging, piercing, almost unbearable agony, that rocketed right through my body. At the first stroke, I doubted I could take it. As she whipped me again, slightly above the first, which had already scored a dark red welt right across my breasts, I moaned deeply, and the agony was joined by the ecstasy that I knew to be its travelling companion.

'Oh, Rosa, please, please, please, no, oh, oh!' I screamed, as she struck me again, right across my tortured nipples. My eyes closed, and I came, an almighty orgasm which wracked my body in a succession of shuddering, writhing spasms, and my juices ran out of control, across my Mistress's carpeted floor.

Later, we lay together in the darkness, having lost count of the times we made love.

'I should send you away more often,' said Mistress Rosa.