Message-ID: <14629eli$9808222234@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: lebny@hotmail.com Subject: (lebny) Maid to Serve Sri Lankans Part 1/2 (Femdom, inter, humil, n/c) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.femdom,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6rjjji$be$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> "What's this?" asked Martin, picking up a grubby dollar bill from his pillow. Damika fixed him with an angry stare and at once he changed his tone. "I'm sorry Madam Damika. May I ask why you have given me this money?" Damika sneered. "This your pay whore. You say you want to be whore, this your pay. You cheap whore, do anything for one dollar." She looked at Martin's stunned expression and laughed. "What matter whore? One dollar too much for white slut? Maybe 50 cents better!" "No Madam, it is the correct amount. I am your one dollar whoreboy, your cheap white whore." "Not only whore, asslicker too." said Damika, sliding out of the bed. "Madam get up now. I need toilet. When I finish you clean with tongue, lick Madam's ass good then give Madam shower. Then Madam need breakfast. Come, follow Madam to bathroom pig." Martin knelt on all fours and crawled behind Damika as the beautiful young Sri Lankan girl walked slowly to the bathroom, gently swaying her lovely brown ass. She did not bother to glance back at the white man who followed her like a dog or as she preferred to say a pig. As she sat on the toilet and began to relieve herself he bowed down before her, his head pressed to the cold marble floor. A kick to his face from her small but strong foot informed him she was ready to be cleaned. He raised his head and found her bent over the toilet seat her ass thrust upward towards him. He kissed each ass cheek reverently then gently prised them apart and inserted his tongue inside her crack, licking and cleaning as he had been instructed. As he did so tears ran silently down his cheek. Of all his new duties this was the one he hated most, disgusting and degrading it reduced him to no more than Damika's living asswipe. Nothing could be lower. Unobserved by her pig Damika looked back at his tears and smiled. She always felt a rush of pleasure when she saw how far he was willing to degrade himself to please her. It gave her a feeling of strength and power that never lost its intoxicating effect. For a woman who had spent most of her young life in service to others, who like so many Sri Lankans had left her native country for this faraway land just to clean another's toilets, it was like a drug. She had never dreamed that she would ever be anything more than a maid but now she was like a Queen, a Goddess. She had been the pig's maid once, slaving away all day to clean his home, wash his clothes, cook his food, all for a pittance of a wage. He had been a cruel master, never satisfied, complaining so loudly and bitterly that it brought tears to her eyes and docking her wages for the slightest mistake. He had had a white girlfriend when they first met, Susan was her name. She had been an arrogant bitch, treating Damika like dirt and beating her whenever she was in a bad mood which was often. Of course that was only when Martin wasn't around. Whatever his faults he had never resorted to physical violence and condemned it bitterly in other employers. Susan had another habit she indulged in when Martin was at work, she liked to amuse herself with Damika, fondling her ass, breasts and pussy while she worked, forcing her to work naked or forcing her to pleasure her by licking her cunt as she drank wine on the balcony. She always insulted Damika during these sessions calling her her "little darkie slut" and laughing as the Sri Lankan girl wept. Damika was always sick after these sessions and cried for hours in her room. Martin found her thus one evening and saw the bruises on her body too. He demanded an explanation and when, between sobs, she managed to give him one he flew into an almighty rage. At first Damika thought he was angry with her for complaining about Susan and cowered on her bed but it was to Susan's room that Martin stormed and it was she who found herself out on the streets that night. Martin came to her room with various ointments and creams and applied them gently to her battered body. His hands were soft and gentle, his touch loving and he smiled warmly as he worked on her. It was then Damika realised that this successful white executive might actually find her attractive and a plan began to form in her mind, a plan to make herself more than a maid. Her uniform grew gradually shorter and more revealing, her poses more provocative, every bend designed to reveal a glimpse of her breasts or her panties. She was a slim girl with dark skin, fine features, small, firm breasts, a tight ass and flowing long black hair, a true exotic beauty and it was not long before Martin, his bed empty now began to fall increasingly under her spell, savouring every glimpse of her hidden form. He found himself spying on her as she slept in her short nightdress, her sheets tossed off, one bare leg dangling over the side of the bed as the nightie rode up over her ass exposing her panties to him. He was even able on occasion to watch as she showered, his hand on his crotch as he harden at the sight of her firm young body in all its naked glory. Eventually he found himself sneaking into her empty room to kiss and sniff her "carelessly" discarded panties. He never once suspected that all his supposedly secret activities were being carefully orchestrated by his maid. Although it was obvious that Martin was becoming increasingly infatuated with her, he could barely hide the erections that sprang up whenever she was near him, Damika never feared that he might be tempted to assault her in any way. She had done some spying of her own in her time in Martin's house and she knew all about his relationship with Susan, knew how in the bedroom Susan treated him the same way she had treated Damika, as her slut, her slave. Yes, her bullying master enjoyed being a slave in the bedroom, enjoyed being dominated by a woman. and soon he would be dominated by her. Strange Damika was to reflect later that the woman she hated most in all the world was also the one who had shown her the key to a new future. Finally, one hot sultry evening when she had seen Martin stand at her doorway masturbating as he gazed on her naked, sweating body before fleeing as he sensed she was awake, she walked slowly, still naked to his bedroom where he tossed and turned unable to sleep in the heat of the night and his desires. His mouth opened wide but he was too surprised to speak as his maid, the object of all his fantasies of submission in recent weeks stood beside his bed, naked in all her perfect beauty, arms on hips as she stared down at him with the cold contempt he had often imagined on her face. "You want Damika yes?" she demanded, although it was more a statement than a question. Martin nodded his head weakly. His raging erection, only inches from her, made denial useless. "Damika let you please her but there is rules. You agree or Damika no let you please her. You agree?" She looked questioningly down at Martin. Looking up at her face, so beautiful and proud he felt he was in the presence of a Goddess just as in all the femdom stories he had read. "What are the rules?" he asked hoarsely "First this. Damika maid but in this room she boss you servant boy. I give orders you obey understand? You do anything I say." Martin nodded. This really was a fantasy come to life! He could barely control his desire to cum. "In bedroom my name Madam Damika. You no got name unless I give you. Anything I call you you accept. Agree?" "Yes Madam Damika, I agree." said Martin, bowing his head. "I wan to be your slave, your whore. I will be a good whore I promise." "You better be good whore or Madam punish you!" snapped Damika "Now out of bed slave. Get down kiss Madam's feet. Show her you her slave now!" Hurriedly Martin scrambled from the bed and crouched at Damika's feet, obediently kissing each of her feet in turn. Damika laughed. The sight of her white "boss" grovelling at her feet both amused and thrilled her. For the first of many times to come she felt the incredible pleasure that came from power over men. She had never felt so hot, never felt such such electric shocks of pleasure in her pussy. She was already moist as she gave her next order, using language she had learned from observing Susan in action. "Pig hard but Madam no want cock tonight. Madam want to see white pig wank. Wank for Madam pig boy!" Martin tried to stand but Damika's foot on his neck forced him down. "No stand. You pig, wank like pig!" And so Martin remained on all fours, head bowed supporting himself on one hand as he masturbated with the other. Watching him Damika unconsciously began to finger herself, masturbating in time with her slave. So lost was he in his real-life fantasy that it was only a short time before Martin shot his load, jets of white cum spurting all over the carpet. At once Damika stopped masturbating and fixed him with an angry glare. "Pig cum no nice on floor. Madam take long time to clean. Now you clean like pig. Lick cum. Lick now!" Martin hesitated, he had never gone as far as this with Susan, but Damika was not to be trifled with. Seizing him roughly by the neck she savagely rubbed his nose in the cum. "See how dirty you pig! Now lick or Madam get angry!" Martin opened his mouth and Damika slapped his face, hard. "No talk! Lick!" And Martin licked, hard and fast, partly because he knew this was the only way he would ever get to taste Damika's lovely body and partly because this was what he had so often dreamed of, to be humiliated and degraded by a beautiful woman. Watching him obediently at his work Damika knew instinctively that there would be no going back now. A man who would degrade himself like this would do anything she wanted. He belonged to her now. Once finished Martin looked up expectantly at his new Mistress. Inflamed by her overwhelming passions Damika could wait no longer. She lay down on the bed, her legs apart and snapped her fingers. "Come pig! Lick Madam's pussy!" Martin obeyed with alacrity and Damika soon learned that Susan had trained him well as his tongue teased and tormented her pussy lips and cliterus before he licked and sucked her to climax after climax, climaxes which were stronger than any she had ever experienced. If only she had had the chance to be a dominatrix earlier. When she had finally had enough and sank back, her body exhausted by pleasure Damika allowed Martin to suckle on her big nipples as a special treat until they both fell asleep. In the morning Martin thanked his Mistress for the pleasure she had allowed him the night before and kissed her tight ass cheeks in gratitude. Then Damika rose and went to her room to dress before preparing her master's breakfast. For some time their relationship continued like this, Damika ruling the roost in the bedroom while continuing to serve Martin as his maid the rest of the time. Indeed his attitude as her employer did not change. her salary did not increase one penny and he was still a criticising bully. At first Damika contented herself by taking her revenge in the bedroom, spanking and slapping Martin whenever he had annoyed or bullied her, giving him humiliating tasks to perform or denying him sexual contact. She was always aware, however, that however respectful Martin was in the bedroom he still regarded her most of the time as his hireling. He kept the two aspects of their lives entirely separate and neither her material position or her position in the household had improved. This was not what Damika wanted and as she felt her sexual hold over him grow to the extent that he had to have her in his room every single night and would do anything she commanded just for a simple touch or taste of her body, she set about attaining the station she desired so much. It started in the bedroom as she ordered him to dress in her uniform, to parade up and down in it, to masturbate in it, to make love to her in it, to wear it night after night until he put it on without even a word from her eagerly hoping for her approval. Then before the sex games began she would give him chores to perform, fetching her food and drink and cleaning her room or her shoes (with his tongue, naturally) or washing her clothes (tonguing her worn panties was his particular favourite). As Damika's sexual favours became increasingly difficult to obtain, entailing an ever increasing number of what, for a rich man like Martin, were humiliating chores so his desire for her grew ever stronger. He began to realise, as Damika had hoped he would, that his greatest, if not only, pleasure in life came from serving her whether as her bedwhore or as her maid. And so it was that little by little Martin came to do everything in the house while Damika became a lady of leisure content to e waited upon hand and foot by her white pig maid who was now so in her thrall that he lived only to serve his Mistress. The bullying Master of old was dead and buried replaced by a compliant white maid who was bullied and nagged in his turn by an arrogant Sri Lankan Goddess and who thanked her daily for the generosity she shown in selecting him to be her slave and showered her with gifts and money. As for Damika, she revelled in her power and the pleasure it gave her. From a squalid room in a Colombo slum she had now rise to become Mistress of a large house with a white man dressed as a maid at her beck and call. Her every sexual whim and fantasy was indulged by this same white whore. She had money, dressed in fine clothes, dined in expensive restaurants. She had reached the summit of her former ambitions. Yet Damika was not content. The more her power over Martin grew the more she needed to degrade him in order to maintain the same level of intensity in her passions. For her the act of dominance was infinitely more stimulating than sex itself, though that too was fantastic Martin having been trained to satisfy all her urges to perfection. It was this need for ever greater control that had led her to make him her asswipe, to begin paying him for his services, to demonstrate that he was nothing more than her hireling whore and that he could never aspire to be her lover or equal. And she found hat the more she degraded him the more degradation Martin craved. Long submissive despite a swaggering professional career Damika's domination of him had brought all his most repressed desires to the fore. He was falling headlong into a bottomless pit of humiliation and degradation and loving every minute of it. ********** Once he had cleaned Damika's ass to her satisfaction Martin ran her shower and bathed her adoringly, rubbing soap over her entire body and gently stimulating her nipples and clit with his fingers. Only when she had cum was he allowed to dry her, again stimulating her as he dried her. Then it was time to dress her in sheer silk panties, a half-cut bra of the same translucent material, a clinging sleeveless red dress that barely covered her ass and had a plunging neckline. The ensemble was completed by a red chiffon scarf and knee high black leather boots lovingly polished by Martin's tongue. "You like pig?" asked Damika, admiring herself in the mirror. "Madam is even more beautiful than usual." replied Martin in all sincerity as he knelt at her feet. Damika looked down and smiled at his erection. "Thank you pig. Madam must look good for her lover. He come visit today. You like him. Very handsome boy. He like white whores too much." She smiled broadly, flashing her perfect white teeth as Martin trembled at her feet. Damika had often teased him about taking a Sri Lankan lover ("a real man with a big brown cock") but he had never taken her seriously until now. In a cold sweat he pondered how distant she had been lately, as if she was hiding something yet strangely happy, how he had been forbidden to touch her with his "little white maggot" for almost two weeks now. Was this the reason why? Who was this man? hat would happen to him now? Would Madam still want her slave? As these confused thoughts raced through his mind he failed to notice Damika growing angry. Only a slap across his face woke him up. "Breakfast!" snarled his Mistress He served the food on the terrace, kneeling as always at her feet, begging like a dog for scraps to fill the dog bowl Damika had bought him for Christmas. This was the only way he ate now. Her meal finished Damika motioned with her hand for him to clear away the dishes. Once he had washed up he made to dress for work but Damika stopped him. "You no go office today. You say sick. This big day for Madam. Lover come. He want see maid. You clean house good for Master then you start work. You whore now. You make money for Madam Plenty customers come today." For a moment Martin was paralysed. What the hell was happening? Was her lover really coming? Were other guests really coming? No-one except he and Damika knew what went on inside these walls. To the outside world he was still Master and she Maid. Was she really going to expose him to public ridicule? A faint voice inside him told him to resist but he knew he was too far gone down the road of servitude to do anything but obey. Without a word he crept to his room to put on his uniform. Damika meanwhile, smiled at his very obvious confusion. Who knew what would happen today? Only one thing was certain. It really was a big day for her. Martin hurriedly pulled on a pair of Madam's old panties and slid into the micro-skirted black dress that was his uniform. It was topped by a frilly white apron and cap. He put on his black fishnet stockings, pulling them up over his hairless legs, waxed like the rest of his body on his Mistress' instructions, applied his garish red lipstick and rouge and stepped gingerly into his heels. Maid Martin cleaned and washed energetically for the next 2-3 hours while his Mistress relaxed reading magazines and watching TV pausing occasionally to fondle his ass and balls or clip him round the ear as she criticised him for some mistake in his work Truth to tell, however, Martin was now a very accomplished maid and his work was of a much higher standard than Damika's had ever been. Martin had just finished all his chores and was congratulating himself on a job well done when the doorbell rang. "Answer pig." called Damika from the living room "Maybe you lucky, got customer already!" His hands shaking Martin nervously opened the door. Standing on the doorstep was a plump middle-aged Sri Lankan lady he recognised at once as Patma, the maid of two of his closest friends. Only the week before he had dined there and Patma had waited on him, eyes downcast, respectfully addressing him as "Sir". There was no respect on her face now only contemptuous amusement as she stared directly into the his eyes. Patma waved her hand and Martin stepped aside to allow her to enter, bowing as she passed. She smiled at the gesture. "You very polite maid." she said, pinching his ass as he closed the door "Damika train her bitch good. Now we see if you good slut too. See Madam Patma got money for slut. You do good Madam pay you." Martin turned to see Patma waving a torn dollar bill in his face. "Madam Patma is very kind." he said, head lowered "Yes." grinned Patma "Where Damika?" Martin led the way to the living room, the eager Patma fondling his ass the whole length of the hallway, much to his embarrassment. "Madam Patma Madam." he announced on entering the room, bending so low that the dress rode up over his ass allowing Patma's lecherous hands a clear target. "Fetch drinks for guest pig!" ordered Damika Relieved, Martin hurried to the kitchen to fix drinks for the two Sri Lankans. When he returned to the living room he found them laughing and chatting together in their native Sinhala. They took the drinks and then Damika pointed to Patma's feet. "Madam Patma's sandals dirty. Clean with white pig tongue! Now!" Without hesitation Martin dropped to his knees and began licking the dirty soles that Patma turned up to him. Patma looked on in amazement and amusement. "You teach him good Damika." she said in her broken English so Martin would understand "I never think white pig do like this." "White pigs ugly but useful." said Damika "He even clean ass with tongue too." Patma gasped. "Maybe he clean my ass?" "You pay for whore he do anything you want. You got money?" Laughing, Patma handed over the dollar bill. Damika waved it under Martin's nose. "See pig, Madam pimp now. Sell you to Madam Patma. Go to bedroom. She no happy I punish bitch good." Madam Patma stood and Martin led the older woman to the bedroom. Once inside Patma hurriedly closed the door and turned the key. When she turned to face Martin her face was full of lust. "Take off clothes. Patma like men not girls. Show Patma cock!" Martin did as he had been instructed and stripped. He still felt embarrassed about being treated in this way by someone who worked for his friends but he also found the humiliation extremely exciting as his erect cock showed. Patma too was excited by the sight of his naked body. Her hands roamed freely over his smooth, hairless frame before lingering on his cock and balls, her gentle strokes causing him to shudder as he fought to control himself. "Damika no lie. White cock very pretty. Not big like brown cock but pretty. This first time Patma see white cock. She like. Now strip Patma. When you strip you please Patma." Slowly, very slowly, Martin removed Patma's clothing piece by piece. He started by gently massaging her shoulders as he stood behind her, his hands also reaching upwards to stroke her long greying hair. Then he turned her round and while kissing her long and lingeringly on the lips he unbuttoned her white blouse and massaged her soft breasts through her bra. The blouse removed he turned her again and pulled down the zip on the back of her cheap black skirt. Nuzzling his mouth on her neck he inserted a hand inside the skirt and fondled her plump ass, his finger running down her crack and causing her to flinch. Then he unbuttoned the skirt and as it fell he knelt and kissed each of her ass cheeks, which he fond surprisingly cool. Patma stepped out of the skirt and Martin raised himself up and unhooked her bra before placing his hands on her large, sagging breasts and strongly massaging them. As they grew firmer in his hands he spun Patma once more and placed his mouth on her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples as his hands stroked and fondled her ass. Then he dropped down, kissing her rounded belly, his tongue lapping around her button. Then, on his knees, he kissed the crotch of her panties causing her to gasp with pleasure. Martin pulled down the panties, Patma stepped out of them and Martin pressed his mouth to her hairy bush, licking and sucking as Patma clutched him to her and gasped and moaned as she grew increasingly excited before finally coming in his face. "Good good slut!" she breathed, her face flushed, as she released him and stepped onto the bed. "Patma pleased." Martin made to join her but Patma shook her hand. "Not yet. First slut dance for Patma. Then slut fuck Patma." She placed a cassette in the tape payer, Eastern music and clapped her hands. Upon her signal Martin began to dance lewdly, swaying his hips ad thrusting his chest, ass and cock towards Patma's groping hands. At last when he was hot and sweaty Patma consented to turn off the tape "You dance like slut. In old days sluts dance for King in palace before he fuck them. Now slut dance for Patma an she fuck him!" She spread her legs wide and pointed to her pussy. "Lick bitch!" Once again Martin placed his tongue on her cunt as she locked her legs around him and pressed his head down with her hands.Three times she came before she pushed her slut onto his back and mounted his erect cock. She placed his hands on her big breasts and began to fuck him. She was loud in her lovemaking, moaning and groaning as she rode the white man's cock. She came twice, noisily, before he was allowed to climax then she lay back on the bed, a contented smile on her face and took Martin in her broad arms. She pressed his face to her breasts and ordered him to suck which he did willingly. "You good fuck." she said stroking his hair. "Patma happy. You worth one dollar." she laughed "Patma no fuck for long time. Husband send her out Sri Lanka to work maid. She two years here now, no holidays, no go Sri Lanka. All time alone. All time work work work. Slut's friends very bad. No pay good, all time angry. Patma no like white people but like slut. Slut know how to serve Sri Lankan people. Know how to please them. Patma wish she got slut like you." "But you won't tell my friends will you?" asked Martin in a sudden panic. Patma smiled. "Patma no tell. You her secret but when you come you be nice to Patma, always ask polite no give orders. Maybe you come see Patma in kitchen, let her play." "I promise to respect and obey you always Madam." said Martin Patma rubbed his head as she would a favourite pet. "Good slut. And Patma promise come visit slut here many times. Fuck you many times." She kissed his forehead. "Now get up. Dress Patma. Time to see Damika." -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----