Chrissie The Saga of a Lovestruck Sissy Maid
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Chrissie Part 37 free porn video
"Chrissie" Part IIIVII
by c.w. cobblestone
Gina spun me around in the salon chair until I was facing Rebecca. My
mistress smiled.
"Perfect," she said. "Tight little curls, just like a little doll. And I
love them green-and-red tips. All ready for the party. You're an artist,
girl."
"Well, thanks." Gina waved her hand at the salon floor. "Since he's here
already, does he have time to clean up a little? We were pretty busy
today and we probably shouldn't wait till the morning to get some of this
up. And I don't feel like doing it, to be honest."
Rebecca shrugged. "No, problem, Chrissie, get to cleaning." She turned to
her friend. "You got any appointments coming up, or are you free for
lunch?"
"No, I'm free, let me go grab my purse," Gina said. "Chrissie, you do
whatever Brianna tells you, and keep your mouth shut if any customers
come in. Understand?"
"Yes, Miss Gina."
Brianna pointed. "You can start by cleaning out that shampoo sink."
"Yes, Miss Brianna."
Gina asked her friend, "You want me to bring you back anything?"
"I'll take a Cobb salad," the hairdresser said.
When Rebecca looked at me, I'd hoped she was going to ask if I wanted any
carryout, too, but instead she barked an order: "Make sure you get this
place clean before we get back, because you still got to go over to my
ma's to get ready for the party."
"Yes, Mrs. Martin."
With a flip of her hair, my mistress disappeared with her friend.
There was lots to do, so I got busy. While I cleaned, Brianna relaxed in
a salon chair, grilling me.
"So, what's it like being somebody's slave? Don't you ever get tired of
being treated like a little bitch all the time?"
"I ... I don't know, Miss. It's just how it is ... I love Mrs. Martin,
even though ... even though I know it can never be ... you know, like a
relationship. We have our own kind of relationship."
"So, you basically become some woman's sap for the rest of your life."
She shook her head. "I don't get it, but better you than me. I suppose it
takes all kinds. I can't even imagine my boyfriend putting put with that
shit, but he's a man. You ... it's weird, cuz you're not really a man or
a woman. I don't know what the hell you are. A sissy, I guess."
For a nanosecond I contemplated not answering her, but being a slave who
lives in constant fear, I decided I'd better respond somehow, lest she
misinterpret my silence as "disrespect" and report me to Rebecca, who in
turn would surely tell Karl.
"Y-yes, Miss, my masters say sissies are like a third gender. They say
I'm not trans; I'm a sissy, and they say ... um, that means I'm below
everyone."
"Well, you got that right." Brianna smirked. "I'm just glad I ain't you."
"Y-yes, Miss."
"Alright, enough bullshitting." She jerked her thumb. "That bathroom
needs major attention. I'm gonna go outside and smoke a cigarette."
\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\//
Elvis's "Blue Christmas" provided the yuletide soundtrack while Ian cut
up a line of cocaine with Karl hovering over his shoulder.
"Mmm, nice, fat rails." Karl grinned. "You say your boy's shit's pretty
good, huh?"
Ian handed over the straw. "Be my guest. Try it out."
Karl leaned down and snorted a line. "Woo-HOO! Damn, that's got a kick."
"Told you." Ian bared his teeth. "I got the connections."
Marlene frowned at Emily. "You better not be messin' with that shit, you
hear?"
"I ain't," Emily told her mom. "I seen what happened to Heather."
"I hate that shit." Rebecca crinkled up her nose. "I wish you guys
wouldn't do it at the damn Christmas party."
Karl shrugged. "Oh, it's fine, what's a party for?" He held the straw
toward Randy. "What do you say? Want to do a line?"
Randy shook his head. "Naw, I'm too old for that shit. I will take
another beer though."
Unfortunately, I didn't hear his order, since at the moment I was lost in
a Rebecca Anne Strickland-Martin daydream, staring at the way the light
was shining off her golden, angelic locks.
My lovesick reverie was rudely interrupted when Randy jumped out of his
recliner and booted me hard in the ass, sending me literally flying
several feet across the room before crashing into an end table.
"Get your head out of your ass, sissy, and go get me a goddamn beer, I
said," he snarled.
"S-sorry, sir."
As I limped out of the room rubbing my behind, I heard Rebecca cluck her
tongue. "Aw, don't be so mean to poor Chrissie. He's been running ragged
the last few days. The poor thing is tired."
After I served Randy's beer I stood at attention while everyone
conversed. To my chagrin, the topic was me.
"I don't understand why you let Randy punish him, but we can't," Emily
said.
"Because you two don't know when to stop." Rebecca shook her head. "I
don't mind loaning him out to you once a week for cleaning, but I can't
have you abusing him like that. And once you start ... well, just don't
do it, okay? That broomstick was too much."
Karl snickered. "Way too much. Just ask Chrissie."
That brought down the house, but when the laughter subsided, my master
waved his hand.
"I'm kidding; if Chrissie needs punishing, just tell us." Karl winked at
me. "I'll take care of it, won't I, Chrissie?"
"Y-yes, sir, thank you, sir."
Emily rubbed her chin. "Well, then, now that you mention it, Chrissie WAS
pretty disrespectful last time he came over to clean."
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Oh, bullshit, what'd he do?"
"Um, I ... I caught him taking a break ... um, sitting down on the edge
of the bathtub."
"You're so full of shit; you just want to see him get whipped," Rebecca
said.
Emily shrugged. "Okay, I do; what's so wrong with that?"
Ian raised his hand. "Ooh, let me do it."
"Nobody's doing it." Rebecca frowned. "Don't you guys want to open
presents?"
"We can do that later." Emily folded her arms. "I want to see Chrissie
get whopped." She tilted her head toward Rebecca and put on her most
beseeching expression. "Pleeeease? Let Ian do it. You'll be right here if
he gets carried away."
"But Chrissie didn't even do nothin'."
"So what?" Emily replied, and everyone cracked up.
"Come on, have a heart," Rebecca chided her little sister. "It's
Christmas."
"Yeah, it's Christmas -- so let Ian do it. As a Christmas present."
My mistress sighed. "Oh, alright, if you won't shut up about it." She
pouted my way. "Sorry, baba. I know it ain't fair, but it'll be over
before you know it, 'kay?"
"Y-yes, Mrs. Martin."
Ian stood up. "Shit, I don't even wear a belt. Hey, Karl, can I borrow
yours?"
"Sure." Karl stood and pulled his belt through the loops before handing
it over to his younger counterpart.
"Only ten," Rebecca warned.
"Aw, seriously?" Ian huffed. "Come on, Becca, that ain't even getting
warmed up."
"Ten really ain't that much," Randy agreed. Karl and Emily nodded.
Marlene just shook her head.
"Okay, 20, but that's all." Rebecca smiled at me. "Sorry, baba,
everyone's always so mean."
The pain from Ian's 20 cocaine-infused blows was nearly as bad as the
humiliation of being bent-over in front of a roomful of people with my
panties around my ankles, my skirt flipped up and my ass hanging out.
Even worse was having to thank my tormenter for each belt stroke.
After I shrieked, "Twenty, thank you, sir," Ian handed the belt back to
Karl and flopped onto the couch next to Emily.
"Whew, that shit's a workout," he said.
"Imagine how the poor sissy feels," Marlene said, and everyone laughed.
I was still bent over with my bare, swollen ass exposed. From my upside-
down position, I caught eye contact with Rebecca.
"See, baba? It's over now. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"N-no, Mrs. Martin," I lied.
"Alrighty then. Go get yourself fixed up and come pass out presents," she
said.
I pulled up my panties and hurried to the bathroom, where I washed my
tear-and-mascara-streaked face and reapplied my makeup. When I was
presentable, I returned to the living room, where the family was gathered
around the tree.
For the next several minutes I scurried back and forth handing out gifts,
gathering and throwing away wrapping paper, tearing open plastic
coverings and putting batteries in when needed.
When the last present had been opened, Marlene chuckled. "Poor Chrissie
does all the work, and don't get shit."
"Well, I told him he could get anything he wanted the other night,"
Rebecca said. "He told me he wanted to buy something for me and Karl
instead, because he loved being our slave so much."
Randy scoffed. "What a little suck-ass."
"Aw, I think that's sweet." Marlene lit a Newport. "But it's kinda sad
the poor thing don't get nothing for Christmas."
Rebecca stared at me for a second. "I know what might make a nice
present."
"What's that?" Her mother took a drag of her cigarette.
"If Karl says it's alright, maybe we can let Chrissie sit on the chair
for a while. It's been so long since he's been allowed on any actual
furniture."
Karl shrugged. "I don't give a shit; as long as he don't get cocky and
start expecting it all the time."
"You won't get cocky, will you, baba?"
I blinked. "N-no, Mrs. Martin."
She swept her hand toward the recliner and sang: "Go ah-eaaaaaad,
Chrissiiiiiiiieeeeee, you get to sit on the chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiir. Merry
Chriiiiiiiiissssstttmasssss."
As I sank onto the soft cushion, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I was
beyond humiliated at how my angel being so condescending; on the other
hand, the soft chair felt so damned comfortable, I pushed aside any
negative thoughts and tried to drink in the luxury for as long as I
could.
My "present" lasted all of two minutes before Randy called for another
beer. After I served him, I hovered near the chair, unsure if I'd be
allowed to reclaim my seat.
Karl noticed me and shook his head. "Uh-uh, sissy, you got your present;
no more furniture."
While everyone else laughed, Rebecca made a sad face.
"Aw, poor Chrissie. I'll tell you what: Karl's such a meanie, and won't
let you sit on the furniture no more -- but that don't mean you can't take
a break. Go ahead and sit on the floor, baba, and you can rest up. Merry
Christmas."
"Um, Merry Christmas, Mrs. Martin. Thank you."
I looked to Karl before sitting down, afraid of making a move, since
Rebecca had found a loophole around his meanspirited order.
He smirked at me. "Go ahead, sissy, you can sit down. I bet it must be a
motherfucker standing around in them high heels all the time. How many
hours you usually put in a day, Chrissie?"
"Um, usually about 17-18, depending on when you guys go to bed, sir."
Karl whistled. "Well, shit, I bet you do need a break. Sit on down,
Chrissie. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, sir." A tear fell from my eye as I took my place on the
carpet near my masters' feet.
Rebecca smiled down at me and wiggled her empty glass. "I'm sorry, baba,
I know you just got comfortable, but can you run and get me a Diet Coke
real quick?"
"Of course, Mrs. Martin."
I hopped up and fetched her drink, and retook my spot on the carpet near
the couch.
The rest of the evening was spent sitting on the floor, looking up at
everyone and listening to them talk, with interruptions every now and
then to fetch drinks. Nobody sought my input, and I never added a word to
the conversation, although I did smile whenever someone made a joke, and
would nod when a point was made. It almost made me feel like part of the
family.
As the night appeared to be winding down, Rebecca suddenly squealed,
making me flinch.
"Oh, shit." Her eyes were huge. "I think it's time. My water just broke."
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