Summertime In Colorado
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Summertime: Chapter One free porn video
Summertime: Chapter 1
By Tommie
Summertime, and the living was easy. I had just graduated college and I was
home for the summer. My parents were on vacation and I had the house to
myself.
I had settled into a relaxed routine. Up late, lazy breakfast, a little bit
of work on the computer to keep my hand in for the programmer's job I was
starting in the fall. Then, as often as not, a lazy afternoon reading in
the back yard before soccer training in the evening. Soccer had paid my way
through college and I'd been scouted by a local pro club.
Next door were new neighbours, moved in since my last stop at home the
previous Easter. I hadn't seen them, but I had noticed the wife's washing
strung out daily on a long clothesline that ran the length of their yard.
Today it was underwear mostly, pretty white bikini panties, some black as
well, all with lace trims and decorations; matching bras, some garter belts,
stockings - I noticed a pair of beautiful white self-supporting nylons with
a broad lace trim. I wondered idly if the lady of the house was as pretty
as her taste in clothes.
Then I saw her, and, although I had no way of knowing it, my life changed
forever. More than pretty, almost beautiful, a tall handsome black woman,
forty perhaps, moving gracefully down towards the end of the line of
clothes, carrying a plastic clothes basket. I couldn't miss the chance to
talk to her.
I got up from the beach chair I'd been reading in and crossed to the fence.
'Not many people hang their clothes out these days,' I said.
She glanced at me briefly, gave me an even briefer smile and said 'I guess
not,' as she turned back to the clothes.
Not much progress. 'Most people would just throw it in the drier,' I said,
giving it another shot.
She paused as she reach for the clothes pins, turned round and looked at me
coolly. 'You seem very interested in my washing,' she said.
'A boy needs a hobby.'
Her eyes sparked with amusement and she laughed for a moment, a sexy,
throaty sound that suited her perfectly. 'I like a maid with a sense of
humour.'
It was an odd slip and I was disconcerted by it. 'Don't you mean "man"', I
said smiling.
'I know what I meant,' she said. 'Tell me about your hobby'
'It's not the clothes, it's what goes in them,' I said, trying to flirt but
realising as soon as the words were out of my mouth that I sounded clumsy.
Her mouth contracted momentarily into a small grimace of distaste, or
perhaps contempt, but she held my eyes. 'Perhaps I can make use of you,'
she said. 'Come round.'
The fence was barely three feet high, and I was fit enough to vault it
easily. 'This is quicker,' I said, and she nodded thoughtfully, even
approvingly. Perhaps I was regaining ground.
'Take a closer look,' she said, gesturing at the clothesline, and smiling
genuinely now. 'Touch it.'
I moved over and unpinned a pair of white panties. The label said, 'Size 6,
hips 34-35'.
'You'll need a bra as well.'
At the time, excited by the lingerie and the beautiful woman standing next
to me, I didn't stop to wonder why I was the one who needed the bra. I took
down a matching white bra, 34C and stood for a moment, an item of underwear
in each hand, and wondered what exactly was going on. Looking back, that
was probably my last chance to escape, but I didn't know it then and I was
intrigued and excited. I could feel my cock tingling with anticipation, at
the feel of the clothes and the look of the woman.
'Bring all the clothes up to the house.'
Although her tone had been courteous and polite, I realised that she had so
far issued orders rather than requests. A little 'please' wouldn't hurt.
'What's the magic word?'
'House,' she said, and she started moving back towards it. From the rear
she was spectacular - smooth, well muscled calves flexing and her black
skirt accentuating the movement of thighs and rump. As I watched, I was
particularly taken with her shoulders - broad, square, almost masculine, but
on her exquisitely and unmistakably female.
I took down the washing as quickly as I could, trembling slightly I'm sure,
but putting each item carefully in the basket to avoid creasing it. By the
time I reached the last item I was almost at the rear door, which was open
into the kitchen. I went on in.
'Put it on the table and follow me.'
She led me to the stairs and I followed her up and into a bedroom. I could
hardly believe my luck, but I didn't understand quite what was happening and
I wasn't sure what to say. So I just kept quiet.
'You've seen my underwear. Now it's my turn to see yours.'
'But Mrs. Robinson, I hardly know you.'
She smiled again, recognizing the allusion. 'You call me Madame.'
'Okay, Madame,' I said lightly.
'Yes, Madame,' she said and there was a little edge to her tone.
'Yes, Madame.'
She nodded. 'Good. You learn quickly. I think your training will go
well.'
I had no idea what she meant. 'Excuse me?'
'Don't question me. And I told you to call me Madame. Perhaps it's time to
teach you more forcefully. Take your clothes off.'
I started to say something, but thought better of it. I still didn't know
what was happening but it seemed to be moving in the right direction. I
stripped off my T-shirt, kicked off my deck shoes, unbuckled my belt and
stepped out of my jeans.
'Take the belt out.'
I did as I was told, and at her gesture passed her the belt. It was broad
black leather and she snapped it a couple of times. She gestured at my
briefs.
'I said take your clothes off.'
I put my pants on the bed and stood there feeling a little foolish as
"Madame" looked at me speculatively. 'You're in good shape.'
'Thank you.'
She moved towards me and suddenly swung back-handed with the belt which
cracked painfully across the back of my thighs. I gasped involuntarily.
'What do you say?'
'Ouch.'
The belt swung again, even harder this time. 'I obviously need to teach you
how to be grateful.'
I quickly took my cue. 'Thank you, Madame.'
She didn't respond this time, but walked behind me. I knew better than to
turn, so I kept my position. My cock, which had been half erect before the
surprise of the two blows, was beginning to recover. I had found the
sudden pain of the belt unexpectedly exciting. I waited.
'Turn round now.'
I turned and couldn't control a gasp of surprise. Madame was standing
completely naked in a pool of discarded clothing. She was truly
spectacular, almost as tall as my six feet, gleaming with health, long
sprinter's legs topped by a neat thatch of black pubic hair. Her legs were
slightly apart and I could see that her pussy was excited, the labia swollen
and glistening with juice.
But it was her breasts that drew my eyes. They were large, but beautifully
shaped and well supported by her strong shoulders. Her nipples were large
and swollen. 'Have a good look now,' she said. 'You'll be working from
memory later.'
I said nothing, but my cock was speaking for me, leaping fully erect at the
sight of her. Unexpectedly, she reached out and held it. I was on the
point of coming but she squeezed it firmly just below the head and the
moment passed. 'No foreskin. I like that in a maid.' The same slip, but I
was wondering if it really was a slip. 'Get on your knees. Put your
forehead on the floor. Put your hands behind your back.' Her tone and
presence were so commanding that I didn't hesitate.
She unthreaded a lace from one of my deck shoes and tied my thumbs, the
leather not tight but completely secure. 'Go over to the chest of
drawers.'
I started to get to my feet, but the belt cracked across my buttocks, the
hardest of the three blows so far. 'You musty learn to do only what you're
told.' I got back on my knees and started to move across the room before
quickly realising that I hadn't put my head back down on the floor. I
quickly regained my original position, thankfully before I received another
corrective swipe, and crawled awkwardly towards the chest of drawers, my
forehead scraping the carpet and my ass pushed invitingly up in the air.
'Open the bottom drawer.' I hesitated, but luckily Madame realised this was
not disobedience. I was beginning to wonder exactly what sort of a mess I
was in. Naked and bound and completely under the control - and, if I was
honest, completely under the spell - of a woman I had met barely 20 minutes
ago. Things had been moving too fast for me to be frightened, but now I was
beginning to get distinctly worried. What on earth was going to happen to
me?
'It's all right, you can move your head and use your hands.' Gratefully, I
turned my back to the drawer and pulled at he handle. It slid open easily
and I looked inside. It was not a reassuring sight.
'Put the uniform on.' It was an all-in-one maid's uniform, a short black
skirt with a pinafore top and a frilly lace apron. It took me a moment to
work out how to put it on with my hands behind my back, stepping into it and
after some contorting managing to get my head through the loop that held up
the pinafore front. I had had to stand up to achieve this, but had the
presence of mind to quickly resume my position on my knees.
'We'll leave the underwear for later.'
'Thank you, Madame.' I wasn't sure if I was supposed to speak, but ignoring
Madame seemed an even riskier course. Apparently I guessed right, as there
was no snap of the belt. What did happen, though, was even more unwelcome.
I had seen the other contents of the drawer, and it was clear that -
underwear apart - I was now going to experience them. First was a stiff
leather posture collar. It was surprisingly comfortable, given it's
three-inch width. The design and workmanship were superb, so that the
softened edges eliminated any serious chafing. It certainly restricted my
movement, though, and it was with something approaching real fear I felt and
heard Madame locking it into place. The leather half-hood followed,
covering the entire top-part of my face and head, strapping down to the
custom buckles on the collar. I was completely blind. As promised I was
working from memory. And I did at least remember to put my head back on the
floor from which it had been raised to fit the hood.
Then came what I had feared from the moment I had seen it in the drawer.
The black rubber butt-plug was pushed firmly into my ass. It slid in easily
enough, despite its size, so clearly Madame had used a liberal amount of
surgical jelly. The bulbous shape meant that once inside only a determined
pull would release it. I tried experimentally to expel it myself, but
failed miserably. This was probably just as well, as I doubt that Madame
would have let it go unpunished. But even the narrow part of the neck was
uncomfortably large and the discomfort was already verging on pain.
There was a light jerk on my collar, and I surmised that Madame had attached
some sort of lead. She led me carefully but firmly over in what must be the
direction of the bed. 'Kneel on the bed.'
Feeling with my knees, I climbed on to the end of the bed, and again knelt
with my head bowed down to touch the bedcover. Madame seized my head and
pulled it forwards and I realised with a shock that I was positioned between
her legs. The pussy smell was unmistakable, fresh and lightly perfumed but
with the characteristic musky smell of a woman in heat. She pulled my mouth
against her sex and when I started to draw back with surprise I realised
that I couldn't move. Madame must have buckled my collar to some kind of
harness around her buttocks and upper thighs, so that my head was locked in
place.
'Do it.'
I did it, at some length. Cunnilingus had never been one of my particular
skills, and the awkward position I was in certainly didn't help. What did
help was the unrelenting sensuality of the woman who had captured me. She
came almost immediately I touched her clitoris. I kissed her gently,
feeling the bud of her clitoris swell on the end of my tongue, which I then
pushed deep inside her. She climaxed again and pulled my head forward,
pressing me against the soft haven of her pussy. Her shuddering orgasms
seemed to go on forever, but after what was perhaps only six or seven
minutes, I felt Madame relax and she gently drew my head back the fraction
that the restraints allowed.
'Good girl,' she breathed, her voice softened into a throaty whisper. 'I
knew you would make a perfect lady's maid.'
I felt her unbuckle my hood from its harness and the bed rocked slightly as
she moved away. My tongue and jaws were aching and my mouth and the lower
part of my face were covered in a mixture of saliva and her pungent love
juice. My ass, too, was beginning to ache from the large dildo inside it.
Not sure what to do next, I hesitated and then gingerly pressed my head
forward up the bed, finally able to relax on my stomach. I expected another
snap of the belt for moving without permission, but none came.
I realised that although I had been able to hear Madame clearly enough, the
hood muffled my hearing somewhat, and the room was totally silent. Perhaps
Madame was in the bathroom. The plug in my ass was becoming more and more
obtrusive, and I knew I couldn't bear it any longer. Although my thumbs
were still bound, I could reach the easily reach the plug. Taking my
courage and the protruding end of the plug in both hands, I carefully pulled
it clear.
The relief was immediate and enormous, but all too fleeting. Two quite
vicious stripes were applied to the lower part of my buttocks. I roared
with pain and surprise and bucked on the bed.
'Don't move again,' Madame said. I lay still, genuinely frightened now.
The previous blows from the belt had been love taps in comparison, and I
realised that something much more damaging - a cane or even a crop - had
been used this time. I could feel the welts swelling already, and I knew
that the fiery red marks would already be discolouring into a humiliating
and unsightly purple. Even as the pain coursed through me I realised that
it was nothing compared to the problems I would have explaining my wounds in
the locker room.
'You have been a good maid so far, but you have a lot to learn. I will not
tolerate any show of independence. Your training will eventually guarantee
your complete and unquestioning obedience. However, until you reach that
state I will take whatever corrective action that is required. Removing
your anal toy was a quite insupportable show of insubordination. What have
you got to say for yourself?'
'I'm truly sorry, Madame.'
'I would normally allot six stripes for such a transgression, but I am not a
harsh mistress. Your loyalty must be based on respect as well as fear. You
cannot learn from random punishment, and you will not truly adore a mistress
who does not show mercy.'
'Thank you, Madame.'
At that she laid into my buttocks once more with the cane, even harder this
time, and exactly where a previous blow had fallen. I shouted with pain, and
I could feel the beginnings of tears under my hood. I screwed my eyes tight
to fight them back.
'Three is sufficient. But I will have to do something about your yelling.
Don't move.'
The last instruction was hardly necessary at this point, as I was too
terrified to move at all. But then I felt cool cream and firm hands on my
throbbing bottom and Madame gently soothed the painful welts. The touch of
her hands was reassuring, and as I relaxed the stroking became mildly
erotic. I felt my cock stir despite the pain.
'There, there, little maid, the pain will soon go.' With that, Madame gave
my ass a final pat and reached to unbuckle my hood. I blinked uneasily in
the sudden light, oddly surprised to find it was still daylight. Of course,
it was still afternoon, but my ordeal had seemed to go on for hours.
Madame was no longer naked. She was wearing a long white one-piece gown
that clung to her body. Her nipples were plainly evident through the thin
material and there was a light dampness evident at the front below her
waist.
At her instruction I stood up at the end of the bed. She had clearly meant
what she said about silencing me, as she pushed a large ring-gag into my
mouth. She could barely push it past my teeth and it lodged solidly behind
them, pressing my already nagging jaws open. She buckled it behind my head.
It was evidently a two-piece arrangement, for a custom rubber plug pressed
neatly into the 'O' of the gag, and a central groove held it firmly in
place. I knew better than to experiment, but I was certain that any sounds
would be completely muffled.
Madame lifted the loop of the pinafore dress over my head and gestured for
me to step out of the uniform. It was a cheap and unattractive garment, and
I was pleased to be out of it. Why was I wearing such a thing when Madame
had such beautiful clothes all around? I suddenly realised that I had been
resentful not about being put into women's' clothes but that I had not been
given the kind of clothes that I wanted.
I thought back to a phase in my early teens when I had for many months
dressed up in my sister's clothes, the pretty high school clothes she had
not taken with her to college. A relaxed soak in the tub in the evening,
not a shower, and then, clean and dry, I would excitedly dress myself.
The garter belt first, fastening the hooks and eyes in the front and then
swivelling it behind me, just as my sister had shown me two years earlier.
Her relief when I didn't tell our parents that I had caught her smoking dope
had made her grateful, and she had only needed the subtlest of hints that I
wanted to see her dressing. She clearly thought she was safe enough with a
ten-year old boy, and with unconcealed amusement had let me watch one
evening as she prepared to go out.
I had watched carefully, and memorised the feminine body language and
gestures that women use when dressing and undressing. As I practised later,
mimicking my sister's movements, they had become second nature.
After the garter belt I would pull on the nylon stockings, drawing them
sensuously up my legs, loving the soft feminine feel of them. Brief cotton
panties next, pulling them up my legs and stroking the pretty embroidered
front covering my thickening cock. And, inevitably, it was dressed in my
sister's panties that I had my first climax as I wonderingly played with my
body though the soft cotton. An unexpected, slightly painful but entirely
wonderful sensation that I would always associate with women's underwear.
But that had been before high school and college, before girls and soccer,
and it was something that I was sure I had outgrown.
But it was as if Madame had read my thoughts. 'Yes, it is a cheap and
tawdry item. I do not expect my maid to dress in such a thing. Now that I
know you are prepared to enter service I will dress you in the finest
garments you have ever seen.'
***
Maid is gagged and still bound by the thumbs. There is a long night ahead
of her if you, the reader, would like to hear about it.
Marisol
- 29.11.2022
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