Happy Birthday Goddess By T. Monk. Pt, 2

English: A worn, black leather belt with buckle.
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He thought about that all evening. She would whip him, but only when she wanted it. He tried to imagine how she would do it, what he would feel. Would he be naked? Would she whip him hard? One thing was certain: he’d been clever to try it with Rosie first, because now he understood how much he wanted it. Where did the desire come from, where in his history? As much as he tried, he had no idea why he wanted to be whipped by Lisa.

* * *
When he telephoned her the next morning, he was afraid her secretary would not put him through. But Lisa came on the line immediately.
“I’m busy today.”
“What about the evening?”
“I don’t know.”
“Please, Dabrowsky.”
“All right, wait for me in a taxi at five o’clock.”
He passed the day in an erotic stupor, anticipating the evening with her, and then shortly before five o’clock he climbed into a taxi and ordered the driver to her office building. He cursed himself for a fool because it was too close to the appointed time and a traffic snarl might make him late, but the taxi fortunately arrived in front of the building precisely at five o’clock.
At twenty minutes past five, Miss. Dabrowsky came out of the building and climbed into the back of the taxi beside him.
Without speaking to him, she ordered the driver to go to her home address. Then she looked at Brijesh without expression.
“Do you still want to be whipped?”
Uneasy, Brijesh glanced at the driver. But the man seemed not to have heard her.
Yes,” Brijesh said.
“Good.”
* * *
When they arrived at Miss. Dabrowsky’s apartment, Brijesh automatically removed his shoes. The maid was already gone.
“I’ll show you how to prepare the tea,” Miss. Dabrowsky said. She took him to the kitchen, and cautioned him to follow her directions exactly. She told him that while the water was boiling he could remove his clothes. He was not to wear a robe this evening. She wanted to look at him. She then left him in the kitchen.
He made the tea according to her instructions, and then he removed his clothes and left them on one of the kitchen chairs. Naked, he carried the tea on a tray to the living room, two cups and the teapot.
Miss. Dabrowsky came into the living room dressed in a yellow robe.
“No, no,” she said. “Return one of the cups to the kitchen. I’m having my tea alone.”
He removed one of the teacups from the tray and returned to the kitchen with it. When he entered the living room again, she said: “Use the shower in the guest bathroom. Get yourself clean. Americans don’t bathe enough.”
Yes of course, he thought. He remembered the British were extremely finicky about cleanliness. He was sweating, and the shower refreshed him. Under the spray, he fondled his erection, but he did not masturbate. He felt intensely excited as he wondered what she would be like this evening. She was so unpredictable. That business with the extra teacup. She might have allowed him to have some tea with her. Well, he was not a prisoner, was he? Not yet, he thought. Not yet a prisoner, at any rate.
When he returned from the shower to the living room, he found her waiting for him, seated on the sofa, with a narrow leather belt on her lap.
She avoided looking at him. “I’m in the mood to whip you now,” she said. “Get a towel from the bathroom.”
When he returned with a towel, she told him to place it on the carpet and lie down on his belly with his genitals on the carpet. “I don’t want you to soil the rug.”
“I could stand and bend over.”
“No, I want you on the rug.”
As soon as he was in position, she knelt beside him and she started whipping him with the belt. She did it silently, the only sound in the room the whack of the leather belt against his buttocks and his occasional groaning response.
After the first dozen strokes, the pain became sharper as the belt struck against already injured flesh. He found himself with an erection, and he began squirming against the towel. When she saw this, she stopped the whipping and she tossed the belt away.
“That’s enough. I want to have my bath now. Come along and help me.”
He rolled over, hoping she would decide to do something with his erection. But instead she ignored him, and with his buttocks still smarting from the whipping, he followed her to the master bedroom.
She lifted a hand mirror from the nightstand beside the bed and studied her face a moment.
She did not look at him as she removed her robe, not even a glance at his erection, which had now dwindled.
“Draw my bath,” she said. “The water should be very hot. There’s a bottle of rose oil on a shelf. You can pour some of that into the bath. Not too much. Two capfuls is enough. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, Dabrowsky.”
“Yes, Dabrowsky.”
“Go on. Go draw my bath.”
She walked into the bathroom after him, and she stood at the mirror looking at herself as he prepared her bath. As they waited for the tub to fill, she sat down on the toilet and started urinating. He was shocked, and violently excited as he heard the sound of it. She said nothing, treating him as if he was of no consequence, her eyes glancing only briefly, and with nothing more than clinical detachment, at his now reawakened penis. After she finished pissing, she rose, flushed the toilet and put the cover down. Then she placed one foot on the closed commode. “Your tongue,” she said.
His limbs trembling, he knelt on the cool tile floor to lick her. He tasted the drops of urine as he cleaned her slit. His servitude seemed almost natural to him now. He adored her more than ever. He wanted to suck her more thoroughly, but she pulled away and moved to the bathtub.
After she entered her bath, she told him to turn around and show the effects of the whipping.
When he turned his back to her, she was silent a few moments. And then she said: “Does it hurt?”
“No, not now. As long as I don’t rub against anything.”
“Come closer.”
He shifted backward toward the bathtub, and then he felt her wet hand on his buttocks. She stroked his bruised flesh with her fingertips. “Have you ever been used by a man?”
“No.”
“But you’ve been whipped before?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“By whom? Tell me.”
He told her about the dominatrix Rosie, and she seemed amused. “Did she wear boots?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“And who else? Who else whipped you?”
“No one else. She was the first.”
“Do you really want to belong to me?”
“Yes.”
* * *
Later, after she left the bath, his task was to dry her carefully and thoroughly. She stood on the bath rug as he rubbed her body with a large towel. Then she told him to wait for her in the living room. “I want to whip you again.”
He waited for her. As before, he was naked. She arrived dressed in her robe again, a belt in her hand, a different belt, much wider than the other one.
She pointed at the towel he had used before, and she told him to bend over one of the armchairs with the towel under him.
“This will hurt you more,” she said. “Your skin will be tighter.”
She started whipping his buttocks with the wide belt. The pain was immediately sharp, not like the first time when the real pain had taken awhile to appear. The whacks continued, about two a second, and he could hear her breathing heavily from her exertions. He suddenly understood she would not stop, at least not until she was exhausted. She grunted with each stroke. Then abruptly she stopped. “You’re bleeding, Brijesh. Get dressed and go home. You don’t need me to show you out.”
Was she angry? She was evidently finished with him and he was crushed. He had a fierce erection and he wanted to come, but she ignored him and she walked out of the room. A moment later he heard her bedroom door close.
His buttocks burned, and when he touched his ass, his fingers came away smeared with blood. The sight of his own blood made him suddenly feel as though he had achieved a victory of some kind. Yes, he felt victorious. He did not mind now that she hadn’t taken him to her bed. He dressed himself and he went home.
* * *
During the next few weeks, the pattern between them evolved. Each weekday at five o’clock he waited for her in a taxi outside her office. He rode with her to her apartment, and there he spent a few hours with her before she sent him home. She refused to see him during the weekends. During their time together, she became more and more demanding, whipping him with greater and greater cruelty. Despite the psychological pleasure he felt during the whippings, he came to dread the physical pain, the welts on his buttocks that were hardly healed before she made fresh ones. Each day, he never knew what her mood might be when he met her outside her office. But he looked forward to his time with her in her apartment. She liked to have a bath early in the evening, and she allowed him to undress her in her bedroom. As she stood naked, he crouched at her feet and kissed and licked her legs and thighs and belly and buttocks. It was obvious to him that she enjoyed his oral ministrations, since she always allowed it. He spent long minutes on his knees licking the deep split between her plump buttocks. She did not utter a word, remaining silent as she leaned forward with her hands on the back of a chair or on the vanity, her legs apart, her buttocks thrust backward to receive his attentions. Sometimes she reached back with both hands to pull her buttocks apart, and that was enough to indicate to him she wanted a more direct attack on her anus.
One evening, as he knelt behind her with his face buried between her buttocks, she leaned forward a bit more and said: “Do the other place.”
She wanted his tongue in her cunt from behind. He had never done it to her this way, but he quickly learned what she liked. She wanted to feel his tongue inside her, and with the upper part of his face pressed into the crack between her buttocks, he thrust his tongue deeply into her vagina. She muttered and wriggled, and he soon realized she had one hand at her sex, her fingers rubbing her clitoris. So he worked with even more determination, and before long she had an orgasm that way. And this became part of the pattern before her bath: he would lick her ass and cunt from behind while she masturbated, and when she had her orgasm he would gather her spending with his tongue and lips and suck her dry until she decided she’d had enough and she wanted to bathe.
After her bath, the routine was that he would shower in the guest bathroom and then serve her tea in the living room. Sometimes she would have him lie on the rug and she would sit on his face to be sucked again.
* * *
One day when they arrived at Miss. Dabrowsky’s apartment, the maid was still there. The maid usually left for the day before they arrived or when they arrived, but evidently today she had work to do and she would not leave for some time. He thought the result would be an absence of any intimacy with Miss. Dabrowsky, but he soon realized that was not her intention. When she wanted her bath, she took him along to her bedroom just as always. He thought she would close the bedroom door, but she left it wide open.
“Should I close the door?”
She stared at him. “No, of course not. Help me undress.”
So he did the usual, helped her out of her dress, then carefully pulled her pantyhose down her hips and thighs and off her legs. After that he removed her panties and bra, and when she turned and leaned forward in the usual way with her hands on the vanity, he glanced only briefly at the open door before kneeling behind her. He told himself never mind about the maid; the old woman was not his affair. He nuzzled against Miss. Dabrowsky’s backside, holding onto her strong thighs, and then he pushed his face between her buttocks and started licking her everywhere.
While he was at it, he heard someone enter the room. The maid. He thought Miss. Dabrowsky would pull away from him, but instead she reached back with both hands and pulled her buttocks apart to indicate what she wanted. Feeling the sharp pleasure of his humiliation, he pressed forward to lick and suck her anus. And while he did this, Miss. Dabrowsky said something to the maid in British, and the maid responded, and they proceeded to have what sounded like a casual, unhurried conversation. Then the maid left and he thought he heard the bedroom door close. He pulled back briefly to look at the door, but Miss. Dabrowsky immediately reached back to tap his head sharply. “Don’t stop.”
He used his tongue again. She was thoroughly wet now, his saliva covering the length of the crack between her buttocks, and as he slithered his tongue in her anus the way he knew she liked it, she briskly rubbed her clitoris with her fingers until she had an orgasm.
* * *
Often she seemed bored with him. At times she hardly talked to him. One evening she read a newspaper while he knelt at her feet and waited for her. On another evening she did the same, but then later she straddled his back and she had him carry her from one room to another as though he were a mule.
“That was good,” she said afterward, and when he looked at her face she seemed in a state of high excitement. That evening, for the first time in a long time, she wanted him to mount her and fuck her in the missionary position. She held her knees high, but when he was about to discharge, she forced him out of her and she clutched his balls with her hand as he spent on her belly.
As the days passed, she seemed more interested in distinct humiliations. When he undressed her in her bedroom, she made him sniff her panties after she removed them. She seemed amused to see him hold the crotch of the undergarment to his nose. “You have the mind of a goat,” she said. “Come on, then, I need to use the toilet.”
She had to urinate, and he thought they would follow the usual routine whereby he would clean her with his tongue afterward. But this time she wanted something different — she wanted his face between her legs while she did it. So he knelt on the tile floor between her legs and pushed his face between her thighs as she urinated into the bowl. It gave him a fierce erection, and she laughed when she discovered it. “Would you drink from me?”
“Yes.”
“All right, next time I’ll think about it. Now clean me with your tongue.”
Her cunt tasted more of urine than it did usually, and he suspected she had deliberately expelled a few remnant drops as he was sucking her. What excited him more than anything was the smell, because at this time of day, before her evening bath, her cunt had the warm scent of a mixture of sweat and piss and vaginal juices, a heady concoction that fired his lust.
* * *
On Monday morning, Brijesh telephoned Miss. Dabrowsky at her office, and she told him to meet her with a taxi as usual. She came out of the building precisely at five o’clock, climbed in beside him, and as usual directed the driver to her address. She explained that her Daughter never arrived home before nine o’clock in the evening, so she and Brijesh could have their usual time together.
When they arrived at the Dabrowsky apartment, the maid was already gone for the day. Miss said she wanted an early bath, and he undressed her as he always did. She bent forward to support herself with her hands on the back of a chair, and he knelt behind her and pressed his face between her buttocks. She wiggled more than usual, urging him on, he thought, but whatever words she uttered were British and he understood none of it. What he did understand were the sounds of delight she made whenever he tried to get his tongue as deep as possible in her rectum. This repeatedly brought a low groan from her throat, and when he finished in that place and moved his lips to her clitoris, it did not take long before she had an orgasm. She squirmed her sex against his mouth as he continued to suck her from behind. He was quite adept at it now, adept at tonguing her clitoris from the rear in the way she liked. He had discovered it was merely a matter of bending his neck enough to get underneath her.
After the orgasm, she walked into the bathroom and she sat down on the open toilet. “Get down here,” she said, and as he had done before, he knelt between her legs with his face six or eight inches from her belly. “Closer,” she said, and she used her hands to pull his face into her crotch. Then she said she wanted more than just his face down there, she wanted to piss on his tongue. She had never done this before. She rose up in a half crouch over his face. She opened her legs as wide as possible, and he managed it. The hot piss gushed over his face and tongue and into the bowl. She seemed greatly excited by it, and when he licked her afterward to clean her slit, she rubbed herself over his face while muttering in British. When she finally released him, she told him to wash his face in the sink. “You’re dirty,” she said. And after that she entered her bath.
* * *
A few days later, Miss. Dabrowsky told Brijesh her daughter wanted to meet him. “She wants to look at you.”
Brijesh was uneasy. “I don’t want any trouble with her.”
Miss. Dabrowsky seemed amused. “There won’t be any trouble, Mr.Prasad. I promise. Come to the apartment this afternoon. I’ll be waiting for you.”
When Brijesh arrived at the apartment, the maid led him into the kitchen and said, “Wait, please.” It was the first time he had ever heard her speak any English.
An hour passed. The maid walked in and out of the kitchen, and finally she sat down at the table to peel some carrots. She glanced at Brijesh occasionally, a contemptuous glance whose meaning was clear: she remembered the time she had seen him with his face pressed between Miss. Dabrowsky’s buttocks.
After a while, the maid left the kitchen again, and this time when she returned she told Brijesh he could go to the living room. “They expect you.”
When Brijesh arrived in the living room,  Dabrowsky Jr., in a light robe, was sitting on the floor at a low table having her tea. Miss. Dabrowsky was in an armchair in Western dress.
Miss. Dabrowsky said something to her daughter, and she looked without speaking at Brijesh. Standing immobile, Brijesh said nothing as the daughter looked at him up and down. Finally, Dabrowsky (jr.) grunted and appeared to nod. Miss. Dabrowsky looked at Brijesh and waved her hand at him. “Wait for me in the kitchen.”
When Brijesh returned to the kitchen to wait, the maid sneered at him again. She said nothing. Now she was peeling radishes.
After a time, Miss. Dabrowsky appeared, and she led Brijesh down the hall to a room he hadn’t seen before. It appeared to be a spare bedroom. After they entered the room, Miss. Dabrowsky closed the door. She lifted her dress, pulled her pantyhose and panties down to her knees and bent over the dresser. “Suck me,” she said. “Quickly!”
He crouched behind her, spread her buttocks apart with his hands, and proceeded to suck her in the usual way until she had an orgasm. When she was finished with him, she dismissed him and told him to go home. “Call me tomorrow,” she said.
Later, arriving in his apartment, he immediately lay down on his bed to masturbate.
* * *
Two days passed. When Brijesh telephoned Miss. Dabrowsky at her office, she told him she wanted to meet him for lunch. She named a midtown restaurant, and a time, and Brijesh made certain to arrive ten minutes early. He was delighted about the lunch, since it was something they hadn’t done before.
Miss. Dabrowsky arrived wearing a smartly tailored fuschia suit, with stockings and shoes of slightly lighter shade. They ordered white wine, and after the first sip, Miss. Dabrowsky said:
“We’re moving to a house in Riverdale.”
Brijesh was surprised. “Really?”
“Yes, really, Brijesh. At the end of this month.”
Brijesh waited a few moments before asking the question that was uppermost in his mind. “Will it change anything? I mean about us…”
Miss. Dabrowsky smiled. “I would not think of giving you up, Brijesh. You afford me too much pleasure. In fact, I’d like you to come live with us in Riverdale. It’s a large house and there’s certainly enough space. You’ll have your own room, and you’ll be my personal friend, shall we say?”
Brijesh was astonished, caught off guard by this unexpected proposal. “What about your Daughter?”
“My Daughter is not involved. You will be there only for me. Does the idea appeal to you?”
“Yes.”
“Only for me, you understand.”
“Yes.”
“Whatever I ask of you.”
“Yes.”
It was clear she wanted him as her personal slave, available to her at any time, at her beck and call. Would he be able to continue his free-lance photographic work? Did he need to? He told himself it wasn’t necessary. He had enough money to last for some time. And the Dabrowskys would be providing the necessities for him.
Miss. Dabrowsky told him he was not to bring any guests to the house without her permission. They agreed he would begin occupying his room in the house shortly after the Dabrowskys moved in. Brijesh was still uncertain about Mr. Dabrowsky’s attitude, but he decided not to question Miss. Dabrowsky about the matter. He would learn, wouldn’t he? He would be in the Dabrowsky house, and he would learn whatever there was to learn about her daughters bad attitude towards her.
In the meantime, as Miss. Dabrowsky explained, until the move to Riverdale, Brijesh could be with Miss. Dabrowsky only occasionally, and only in the afternoon.
Brijesh sublet his apartment and prepared to move to the new Dabrowsky house. He felt both excitement and apprehension. He was not certain of the future any more. All he knew was that he spent his days and nights constantly thinking of Miss. Dabrowsky. He started smoking cigarettes again, and he stopped only when Miss. Dabrowsky told him she hated the smell of tobacco.
Nearly a month passed.
The Dabrowskys had a large house in a quiet Riverdale residential street. Most of the Dabrowsky house was furnished with modern Western furniture, but some of the rooms were furnished in the British style, with futons on the floors, low tables, artful arrangements of pillows and lamps and huge vases.
Brijesh had his own room. He left the house only rarely, usually to assist Miss. Dabrowsky with some errand in the city. Mr. and Miss. Dabrowsky had separate bedrooms, and as far as Brijesh was aware, they remained apart sexually. The British maid they’d had in the city was now living in the house in her own room off the kitchen. The maid continued to treat Brijesh with disdain, but her disdain did not bother him. Dabrowsky (jr.) disdain for Brijesh was even greater than the maid’s, she simply ignored Brijesh’s existence. She never spoke to Brijesh, never looked at Brijesh, never acknowledged Brijesh’s presence. Even that did not bother Brijesh; he became used to it.
Miss. Dabrowsky visited Brijesh in his room almost every evening. When she entered, Brijesh rose, and as she stood there, he knelt in front of her. He kissed her feet and waited to be told what to do. Sometimes she sat down on a chair and she talked to him about her day. Then she gave him instructions, told him to kiss her legs again, or to remain where he was. If she did not like the way he kissed her feet, she might slap his face. She would ask him to stand, and she would clutch his genitals through his trousers. Sometimes she told him to drop his pants and shorts, and as he stood in front of her with his clothes at his knees, she toyed with his cock and balls until the tip of his penis started to drip. She would then tell him to turn his back, and she would whip his buttocks with a thin leather belt that was always available on the dresser. Five or six strokes with the belt. By now his buttocks were permanently marked from the various whippings. After the five or six strokes with the belt, she would leave him, usually without a word. She simply walked out of the room and closed the door. Such was the procedure nearly every evening. However, several times a week she sent the maid to fetch him to her bedroom. This usually happened in the evening, but sometimes also in the afternoon. He would find Miss. Dabrowsky lying on her large bed. She would order him to undress and join her, but always he was to lie at her feet and wait for her command or gesture. Usually, she merely raised her knees and spread them wide, and this was enough to let him know what she wanted. He would then lick and suck her sex and anus until she had several orgasms. After that she usually dismissed him, and he returned to his room. Only rarely now would she allow him to masturbate in front of her, and when he did this, she appeared interested only in the final squirting, how much sperm and with what force, and so on. She never touched him after he masturbated.
* * *
The second month passed.
Brijesh was happy. He was convinced he had never in his life been as happy as he was now. If he had to change anything, it would be only to see more of Miss. Dabrowsky. His greatest fear was that somehow Dabrowsky (jr.) would find a way to force him out of the house.
This evening, when Miss. Dabrowsky came to Brijesh’s room, she seemed to be in a bad mood. After a few moments, she left him abruptly and she returned with the maid. The maid looked confused. Brijesh was naked, and the maid seemed embarrassed by that.
Miss. Dabrowsky spoke to the maid in British, evidently telling her to sit on one of the chairs, for that was what the maid did. Miss. Dabrowsky then told Brijesh to crawl to the maid and get his head under her dress. When Brijesh crawled toward her, the maid suddenly understood the proceeding. She cackled something in British, then lifted her dress and opened her thighs. On his knees before her, Brijesh burrowed in to do Miss. Dabrowsky’s bidding. He sucked at the maid’s cunt through her underwear, and the woman grunted several times as she appeared to have an orgasm. She looked disoriented as Miss. Dabrowsky sent her away.
Afterward, when Miss. Dabrowsky knelt on the bed to have Brijesh suck her from behind, he found her much wetter than usual, her cunt a veritable lake of warm aromatic fluids, and when he finally moved his mouth to suck at her anus while she masturbated her clitoris, her orgasm seemed more intense than usual. The dark little ring of her anus was like an open flower under his lips, and each time she quivered with pleasure he felt rewarded.
* * *
The next evening, Miss. Dabrowsky had Brijesh attend to her while she bathed. She made him sit naked on the commode while she relaxed in a hot bath. Occasionally, she muttered something in British. When she rose and stepped out of the bath, she turned her back to Brijesh and ordered him to dry her with a towel. “Gently,” she said. “I’m always tender after a hot bath.”
As usual, he became excited looking at her backside, and he had a huge erection. After he toweled her dry, back and front, he started kissing her buttocks, but she pushed him away. “Clean the bath first,” she said.
She waited for him. When he had the tub clean and sparkling, she turned her back and allowed his face between her buttocks. He licked up and down the groove, then he pulled her cheeks apart with his hands and fastened his mouth to her anus. He could feel her masturbating herself while he licked and sucked her. After she had an orgasm, she pulled away from him. She seemed pleased with him.
“What do you think of my Lisa, yes her name is also lisa?” she said. “Did you enjoy sucking her?”
Lisa was the maid. Brijesh did not know what to say — he was afraid to displease Miss. Dabrowsky. Should he say yes or no? “Yes, I enjoyed it,” he said.
Miss. Dabrowsky nodded. “But I don’t want you to bother her. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Next time I’ll tell her to remove her underwear. Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Stand up. I’ll milk you into the sink.”
She did it only rarely these days, and he felt happy as he stood in front of the sink with Miss. Dabrowsky at his right side. She fondled his buttocks with her left hand as she stroked his cock with her right hand. The hand on his ass dipped lower to tickle his balls, and then her fingers moved back to his anus and pushed inside.
“You’re so tight, Brijesh. Maybe some time I ought to use a dildo in there. Do you know what a dildo is?”
He knew what a dildo was. He groaned as he spurted into the sink. Three long spurts, and then a shorter fourth and fifth. Miss. Dabrowsky smiled, patted his deflating cock and then walked out of the bathroom.
* * *
One evening,  Miss. Dabrowsky & her daughter had an argument. They ranted at each other in British in the living room. Brijesh could not understand a word, but he could tell they were arguing. It was a great surprise, because ordinarily they showed no emotion toward each other.
Later, Miss. Dabrowsky came into Brijesh’s room with a cane and she started beating him. She had never beaten him with a cane before, and it was painful. She bruised his back and buttocks and thighs. The pain was much worse than what he’d had from any of the previous whippings. She worked up a sweat as she did it. He lay on the bed on his belly as she stood beside the bed and beat him again and again. At intervals she stopped to catch her breath. Finally she became exhausted, and she tossed the cane to the floor and started clawing his cock with her nails & then his balls. She did not care about the blood flowing from his balls or ass she just wanted to vent out her anger, she finally stopped to instead stick her whole fist up his ass without warning the pain was too much for brijesh, his whole ass was bleeding, his eyes red & his cries audible throughout the whole estate. After that she left.
Except for the first command to lie on the bed on his belly, she hadn’t said a word to him. He lay there in pain, huddling one of the pillows under his chest.
* * *
On a cheery afternoon, while both Dabrowsky’s were both out of the house, the maid came to Brijesh’s room and asked him if he would like some tea in the kitchen. “American style,” Lisa said.
In the kitchen, as they sipped their tea, he learned Lisa had been in America many years and that she spoken excellent English. She was a widow, and she had been working for the Dabrowskys for three years.
“That’s a long time,” Brijesh said.
Lisa shrugged. “Time passes.” Then she looked at him more closely. “Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“She treats you like a slave.”
He felt the flush in his face. “Yes.”
“Why? Why do you stay?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you enjoy it. Yes, you must enjoy it. Isn’t that so?”
Brijesh said nothing.
“Yes,” Lisa continued. “I know of men like that. I’ve heard of it.” Then her eyes narrowed as she smiled at him. “I liked it when you did that to me that time. Through my panties. So crazy! But I liked it! Do you want to do it again?”
Brijesh remembered Miss. Dabrowsky’s order to leave the maid alone. But as he looked at Lisa, his desire was too great. In a moment, he was on his knees before her. Excited by this, she quickly pulled her dress back to her waist and opened her thighs wide. Brijesh stared at her crotch, at her sex bulging under the cotton pants.
“Do you want me to take my panties off?”
“Yes.”
She slipped her feet out of her sandals. She quickly removed her panties and threw them on the floor. Then she sat in the chair with her knees raised and her feet and buttocks on the seat. Holding the insides of her knees, she opened her thighs to deliberately expose her crotch. She was quite hairy, much more hair than Miss. Dabrowsky, soft black hair around a thick-lipped cunt with a large visible clitoris, wisps of dark hair around a pouting dark anus.
Brijesh wondered if she was clean. But he was beyond caring. He leaned forward and he started licking her cunt directly, no preliminaries, catching her scent, sniffing at the mixture of cunt and urine. She was already wet, but she quickly became much wetter. He tongued and sucked her vaginal opening, scooping out the milky seepage that gathered there. She made noises as he licked around her engorged clitoris. When he licked her anus, she made whimpering sounds of pleasure. Now her smell overpowered him, and as he penetrated her vagina with his nose, his tongue slithered inside the rather loose ring of her anus. He shook his head, his nose rubbing vigorously against her clitoris until she had a violent orgasm. As his tongue slurped in and out of her rectum, she squealed and came again.
Suddenly, she pushed him away. “The car!”
Brijesh listened and heard the tires of the Dabrowsky car on the gravel in the driveway. His face still wet with Lisa’s juices, he hurried back to his room.
Brijesh now had a way to occupy his time when Miss. Dabrowsky was away from the house. The maid was always eager for it, and whenever they had the opportunity, she had him bury his face between her thighs and suck her to orgasm. She had no interest in anything else, no interest in fucking, no interest in his cock, no interest in his pleasure. She no longer sneered at him, but she obviously cared about nothing but her own orgasms. She was a more earthy woman than Miss. Dabrowsky, not as meticulous, never as clean. He’d always thought the British were extremely clean, but Lisa was an evident exception. Her body actually excited him more than Miss. Dabrowsky’s, but Miss. Dabrowsky’s strict manner with him was irresistible. Lisa was also more conventional. She had no interest in defiling him with urine, and when he hinted that he might like it, she was revolted.
“Does she do that to you?”
“Yes.”
“She’s a pig.”
But Lisa liked her ass licked and sucked as much as Miss. Dabrowsky did, and the anal attention always gave her violent orgasms. Brijesh was able to make her come with only his tongue in her anus, neither of them touching her clitoris. She called him a pig when he did it, but she came anyway. Afterward, when she was gone, he would masturbate to a vigorous orgasm.
One afternoon, Brijesh and the maid were foolish enough to engage their passions while it was raining. The Dabrowskys were of course out of the house, but because of the rain it was unlikely anyone inside the house could hear a car in the driveway. Lisa was on the living room sofa, half naked, her dress pulled up to her waist, while Brijesh was in his usual position kneeling between her spread legs with his face buried in her hairy cunt.
The maid had a stronger than usual musk smell today, and whether it was that or the novelty of servicing her in the living room, he avoided the problem caused by the rain. He told himself they could at least hear the garage door when it opened.
Unfortunately, he had completely forgotten that Miss. Dabrowsky had called a taxi that morning and had not used her car.
Lisa had her thighs clamped around his ears, and he was unable to even hear the front door when it was opened by Miss. Dabrowsky. Lisa herself heard nothing either, since she was in the throes of an orgasm when Miss. Dabrowsky walked into the living room to find Brijesh and the maid connected like a leech and its prey.
Miss. Dabrowsky shouted at them in British. Lisa dropped her knees, and kicked Brijesh so violently, he sprawled backwards on the rug. The maid hurried out of the room, leaving Brijesh prostrate at the feet of Miss. Dabrowsky.
Her face red with fury, Miss. Dabrowsky controlled her anger and she sat down. “I want you to pack your things and get out,” she said.
Brijesh was demolished. “Please don’t do that…”
“I told you to stay away from the maid.”
“It was an error. A stupid mistake.”
He begged her. He crawled to her and kissed her shoes. He pleaded with her not to send him away.
Her lips curled with disgust. “When I invited you here, you promised to obey me.”
“Well, haven’t I?”
She suddenly shouted at him: “You’re a fool!”
“Please, Lisa…”
“You must call me Dabrowsky!”
“Please, Dabrowsky…”
“Are you my slave?”
“Yes!”
“And that means you must do everything I say.”
“Yes!”
She ordered him to his room. “Wait for me. I want to find you kneeling.”
He knelt on the bed with his head down, waiting for her, and when she arrived she came with the cane and beat him severely. It was one of the worst times he had with the cane. She continued beating him until she was exhausted.
“Are you my slave?”
“Yes!”
“And you will obey me completely?”
“Yes!”
She left him as he continued kneeling on the bed in his pain.
Lisa could not decide what to do with the maid. Should she fire Lisa? If she fired Lisa, she would then have the inconvenience of finding someone suitable. But there was no alternative: Lisa had disobeyed her order not to meddle with Brijesh. Disobedience required punishment, and the proper punishment for Lisa was to fire her. Lisa was not much concerned with Brijesh’s disobedience, at least not enough to send him packing. Brijesh was too precious at the moment, a willing submissive man desirous only of giving her pleasure. She had plans for Brijesh. She intended to make him a perfect slave. She did not want the next maid to be British. Her Daughter would complain, but Lisa was determined not to yield on that point. British maids were fine in London, but here they were too independent.
She thought of Brijesh again. He was definitely valuable and she would train him. He would not be the first to be her slave; there had been others, several women and an Italian in Rome. Her Daughter knew all about her little amusements, but since he had his own amusements he never made any protest. And even if he had protested, she would disregard it and do what she liked anyway. That was the compact they’d had from the beginning.
Lisa was from paris, and she hoped to return there eventually., a cultural center replete with history and art treasures, certainly a more distinguished city than her Daughter’s birthplace. She missed the elegance she had known in paris. Her family was rich, and they had provided her with a luxurious life. But she had refused an arranged marriage, and she had left her family’s riches to make her own way in the world. She had never wanted a quiet life serving a Daughter and children, devoting herself to domestic duties like other British women. She found the idea repugnant. Her career had brought her freedom, and she had married carefully only to expand that freedom.
But she had contempt for her daughter. She was also not very intelligent. She did not mind that her daughter cared more for women than for men — she was amused by it. At times she wondered if she ought to let her Daughter have Brijesh for her pleasure — it would be an entertainment to watch it. Her daughter was such a fool.
Lisa fired Lisa the next morning. She did not tell Brijesh about it until the evening, and he seemed saddened by the news.
Lisa chided him. “She disobeyed me, Brijesh. I told her to keep away from you, and she disobeyed me.”
“It was my fault.”
“You were both at fault. But I don’t care any more about the maid. It bores me. Look, I’ve brought you a present.” She patted the oblong box she had carried into his room. “But I won’t open it yet. We’ll do that later. First we’ll play with the belt awhile. You say you were at fault with Lisa? Then I should whip you for it.”
She made a gesture with her hand. He was at least trained enough so that he knew immediately what she wanted. She watched him as he peeled away his clothes. He was always more interesting when he was naked. Other men she found more interesting in their clothes, but Brijesh she liked naked. He had a lithe, muscular body, firm flesh, hard narrow buttocks and strong thighs. This evening she would begin something new with him, and the prospect excited her. “On the bed,” she said. “Ass up, Brijesh.”
When he assumed the position, she took up the belt from the dresser and moved behind him. First she fondled him. She held the leather belt in her left hand as she used her free hand to stroke his buttocks. The marks of the previous whippings were quite visible, red and blue horizontal striations across his buttocks and upper thighs. She stroked the marks with her fingertips. Then she lifted his scrotal sac in her palm, closed her fingers around it, tugged it away from his body and released it to watch it bounce. Her Italian lover’s balls had been larger, but she liked Brijesh’s eggs better because the sac was pink and hairless and looked more vulnerable. They hadn’t progressed yet to any serious amusements with his testicles, but that would happen before long. In Italy she had used shoelaces to tie Sergio’s balls, but she thought Brijesh needed something more elegant. Perhaps ribbons. Yes, she would tie his balls with ribbons. How amusing!
Brijesh’s anus was a perfect little ring in the hairy crack between his buttocks, a ring unabused and innocent. For the time being, she thought. Only for the time being, Brijesh.
She started whipping him with the belt. It took awhile before he began to groan. She stopped a moment, and then she started again. She paced herself so as not to tire herself too soon. When she drew first blood, she stopped and put the belt down. “Bring the iodine,” she said.
His face flushed, he left the bed and went to the bathroom to find the iodine. He brought the bottle to her, then knelt on the bed again with his ass in the air. As he hissed with pain, she carefully applied the iodine to the split skin of his buttocks.
“You bleed too easily,” she said. “Just stay as you are until everything dries. We don’t want the bed stained, do we?”
She stoppered the iodine bottle, and she put it on the dresser. Then she sat down on a chair five or six feet behind him.
“Can you guess what is in the box?” she said.
“That white box?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve brought a dildo for you. I ordered it just for you, Brijesh.”
Was he quivering? She watched him with amusement, trying to gauge his reaction. She wondered what thoughts were tumbling around in his brain.
“I’m going to make you adore it,” she said. “Don’t you agree that will happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ah, Brijesh, you don’t want me to be angry with you, do you? You must tell me you will adore the dildo. Will you adore it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s better. You’re dry now. Come to me and kiss my feet.”
He turned and climbed off the bed, and as he crawled to her, she slipped her sandals off and she held her right foot out to him. She sighed with pleasure as he took her foot in his hands and started kissing her instep. He kissed her instep, and her toes, and the sole of her foot, and then he lowered it gently and took up the other foot.
She praised him. She told him the pleasure he gave her was very great. “I can make you do anything I want, can’t I?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Lie down on the rug on your back.”
When he did this, she rose from the chair and dropped her robe. Now she was naked. She straddled his body, facing his head, and she slowly lowered herself to squat over his face.
“Look at it,” she said.
With her thighs spread wide, she knew her lips were open and her sex completely exposed. She lowered herself a bit more, still not touching his face with her cunt, teasing him, aware that he had her scent now because she could see the effect in his eyes.
“Open your mouth,” she said.
When he did that, she dropped her loins the last inch to place her gaping sex directly on his lips.
“Don’t lose anything,” she said. “I’ll be annoyed if you’re not careful.”
And she started pissing, carefully, regulating the flow to give him a chance to swallow everything. She did not want a mess on the carpet. Her head bent, she continued gazing at his face as she emptied her bladder. Her Italian lover had done this with marvelous skill. She remembered how obsesses he’d been, how willing to have his mouth always available to her. Before the Italian, she had never used anyone this way. It was the Italian who showed her how much she could enjoy it, how important it was to have total submission in this sort of affair.
She looked down now. “Good, Brijesh. You’ve learned to do that well.”
She kept her cunt on his mouth as she stroked her clitoris with one finger. But only briefly. They had much to do yet. After rising, she gazed down at his flushed face and watched him wipe his wet mouth with his fingertips. He seemed intoxicated, his eyes glazed. Then she went to the dresser and she opened the oblong box. The dildo was made of white latex cleverly molded to show every detail. The base had a flared rim to allow the dildo to be fixed in the harness. She removed the harness from the box, and also the huge tube of lubricant jelly. Keeping her back to Brijesh, she inserted the dildo into the opening and secured the harness around her loins. After she adjusted the straps, she turned to show the apparatus to Brijesh.
“Isn’t it lovely, Brijesh?”
He seemed to quiver as he looked at her, and the idea that he might be frightened pleased her. She had never penetrated him with anything but her fingers.
“Yes, it’s lovely.”
“Does it excite you?”
“Yes.”
She picked up the tube of lubricant. “On the bed, Brijesh. On your knees again. We need to get you ready.”
When he arranged himself on his knees on the edge of the bed, she approached him with the dildo bobbing in front of her. She unscrewed the cap of the lubricant tube, slowly pushed the nozzle into his anus and squeezed the tube to squirt the jelly into his rectum.
“You’re trembling,” she said.
“I’ve never done this.”
“You’ll see how nice it is.” She pulled the nozzle out of his rectum, and she squeezed some more jelly around the ring of his anus. “How do you want it?”
“What do you mean?”
“On your back or on your knees?”
“I think on my back.”
“No, from behind is better. Now go to the bathroom and get a towel.”
When he rose from the bed, she smiled when she saw his erection. His penis was like a fat sausage rearing from his loins. She watched his buttocks as he walked naked into the bathroom, imagining how his anus was now lubricated and ready for her. Yes, it would be good. Fucking a man always brought her great pleasure. Her taste for it had grown through the years. She was pleased with herself, She was certain Brijesh would be easily trained, and he would suit her perfectly. She adored him more than ever now, because soon he would be hers completely. She would make him enjoy the dildo. She would make him thrill to it and crave it.
When he returned from the bathroom with the towel, she told him how she wanted him. He seemed unable to keep his eyes away from the dildo, which amused her.
“You shouldn’t be afraid, Brijesh.”
“It’s a new experience.”
“Yes, of course.”
“And I could get hurt.”
“No, we’ll do it carefully. Now kneel on the towel.” She watched him as he knelt on the towel at the edge of the bed. “Move your knees apart and put your head down. Yes, like that.”
With his head resting on his folded arms and his back concave, his buttocks were elevated to a maximum. His testicles hung low in their sac, and above that, the groove between his buttocks glistened with the lubricant jelly.
She enjoyed looking at him, enjoyed having him positioned this way with his body waiting for her. She touched his buttocks, stroked them with her palms, then trailed her fingers into the groove between his buttocks to stroke his lubricated anus. She penetrated him with her forefinger, then added her middle finger. He took her easily, the sphincter pliant and open.
“Does that hurt?”
“No.”
“You look wonderful, Brijesh. Very sexy.” She moved her fingers, sliding them slowly in and out, in to the last knuckles, and then slowly out again.
He grunted. “Oh Christ.”
“Good?”
“Yes.”
She was pleased. He would be easier than she’d expected. She withdrew her fingers. She lifted the dildo in her right hand and placed the round tip at the ring of his anus. She pushed forward, slowly, slowly pushing forward until his anus suddenly opened and the knob of the dildo slid inside.
She held it there, only the knob inside his ass.
“Good, Brijesh. What do you feel?”
“It feels huge.”
“Oh, it’s not so big. Just remain relaxed.”
She pushed forward again. An inch. A slight withdrawal. Another inch forward. Withdrawal until only the tip was inside. A push forward again. Withdrawal. Another push forward, and this time the entire length of the dildo until her belly pressed against his buttocks.
“There, you have it all, Brijesh. Now I’m going to fuck you. It looks marvelous, you know. It gives me great pleasure.”
She slid a hand underneath the dildo to find his balls. Gripping his testicles in one hand, she started a slow sliding of the dildo in and out of his stretched anus. Her free hand fondled his right buttock, pinching and clutching his flesh as she continued her thrusting movements.
He groaned, a deep guttural sound from the depths of his being. She continued thrusting, speeded up a bit, slowed down, then used more force again. She could feel her own orgasm building as the base of the dildo rubbed her clitoris repeatedly. The shaft shone with lubricant as it slid in and out of his gaping orifice. And then finally her climax arrived, a great shudder passing through her body as she slammed the dildo into his bowels. She quivered through an exquisite orgasm, the hand grasping his balls twisting the sac with force.
“Good,” she gasped. With the dildo still plunged deep inside his ass, she reached underneath to find his cock. His organ was swollen, as stiff as a metal pipe, and with only a few strokes of her hand she made him ejaculate onto the spread towel.
When she felt his penis wilting, she withdrew her hand and she slowly pulled the dildo out of his ass.
“I like this,” she said. “I like taking you this way. I’ve done this before, but my pleasure with you is great. We’re closer now, aren’t we? If you stay so good you can call me lisa & be my lover.
“Yes, Lisa.”
Their relationship entered a new phase. She was more gentle with him now, more solicitous, treating him more as a lover even if he was still her slave. He was her lover and her slave combined. Every time they were together, she fucked him with the dildo. He became used to it. He wanted it. After she was inside him, it never took long for him to ejaculate, sometimes with her hand hardly touching him. Their sessions together took more time, the games she played with him more intricate. No matter what they did, at the end she always penetrated him with the dildo, fucking him until they both came. Sometimes she continued until she came three or four times, and then he would complain that his ass hurt all the next day. But he was obviously thrilled by the new affection and attention she showed him now, by the way she fondled him with a new tenderness. All she had to do was stroke his buttocks with her hand, and he immediately knew she wanted to fuck him. “On the bed,” she would say. And if they were not in the bedroom, he would at once turn and go to her room. When she arrived there, she would find him already undressed, kneeling on the bed, his ass already lubricated and waiting for her. Her vagina and clitoris had become so sensitized to the rubbing friction of the base of the dildo, that she could easily climax now after a dozen thrusts. The dildo had become her cock, and she relished the pleasure it gave her.
One evening she told Brijesh she was taking him out somewhere. She brought some things to his room, and she told him to undress. “You’ll wear these,” she said, laying out the articles on the bed. “Do you know what they are?”
“Yes.”
A collar, cuffs, a jock-strap, all the items of black leather.
“Let’s try them on,” she said. She watched him as he finished removing his clothes. When he was naked, she went to him and she kissed his mouth as she fondled his cock and balls. “How are you today, Brijesh?”
“I’m fine.”
“Your balls seem fuller than usual. Am I imagining it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Did it just happen? Is it the collar and cuffs? Do they excite you?”
“Yes.”
Sliding her fingers under his testicles, she found his anus and entered it with her middle digit. He could be penetrated easily now — repeated use of the dildo had distinctly loosened his sphincter. She debated with herself whether to use the dildo. Yes, she wanted it, but she would not allow him to come. She kissed him again, added her forefinger to her middle finger inside his ass, and slowly pistoned and twisted her fingers in his rectum.
“Do you want it, Brijesh?”
“Yes, please.”
“First let’s get the collar and cuffs on you.”
She did it for him, fastening the leather collar around his neck, and then the leather cuffs around his wrists. Both collar and cuffs had several rings attached to their circumference.
“And this,” she said, holding up the leather jockstrap. “This too.”
“But I thought–“
“No, you must wear it. I’ll take you while you’re wearing it. I don’t want you to come yet, Brijesh. Not until later this evening.”
She took him to her bedroom and she slipped out of her robe. She made him stand and wait for her while she strapped on the harness and dildo. She stroked the dildo with her fingers.
“Get it wet with your mouth,” she said.
He hadn’t done this before, but he immediately dropped to his knees in front of her and he took the tip of the dildo in his mouth. It excited her to watch him licking and sucking the phallus to get it wet with his saliva.
“You’ve never done this with a man?”
He stopped sucking and looked up at her. “No, never.”
“It excites me, Brijesh. Take it deep in your mouth.”
He complied, his lips stretched wide around the thick instrument. The surface of the dildo now gleamed with his saliva, maybe enough of it to make the lubricant jelly unnecessary.
But when he knelt on the bed, she used the jelly anyway. She did not want to hurt him so early in the evening. She wanted him primed. After greasing his anus, she did not use her fingers. She entered him immediately and he groaned in pleasure. Standing behind him as he knelt on the edge of the bed, she started fucking him slowly. She found the black leather jockstrap erotic. And the collar and cuffs. Usually she fondled his cock and balls while she fucked him, but this time she kept her hands on his hips. “I don’t want you to come,” she said. “You must warn me if you get close.”
In a few moments he groaned. “I’m close, Mistress.”
“Mistress?”
He groaned again. “Yes, you’re my mistress.”
“I like that. From now on you may call me that.”
She slowed the pace, stopped completely, then started again. She fucked him until she had her climax, but she stopped before he had his and she withdrew from his ass.
“Don’t move if you’re too close,” she said. “I forbid you to come.”
She stood behind him and waited. His anus had already closed, the gaping orifice now again a tight sphincter. When she thought he was calm enough, she told him to turn around and sit on the edge of the bed.
She rid herself of the harness and dildo and she started preparing for the evening. As usual, she had him help her bathe. He dried her body with a large towel. After she urinated, he cleaned her with his tongue. When they were in the bedroom again, he knelt on the floor and watched her as she dressed. She enjoyed displaying her body to him, and she teased him about the evident erection behind the leather covering of his jockstrap.
“I won’t let you come for a long time,” she said. “I want you in proper form for my friends.”
“Your friends?”
“I’m taking you to a gathering of some people I know. I’m going to exhibit you as my slave, Brijesh. But you won’t be alone. There will be others there, other slaves. Does the idea excite you?”
When he spoke, his voice was almost a whisper: “Yes.”
“Are you happy, Brijesh?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
She smiled. She felt a great sense of completion, and she could see he did too. They completed each other, master and slave, woman and man in an equilibrium of contentment. “So it is,” she said softly.
And Brijesh responded: “Yes.”
“Do you know why im taking you out” she asked. “because its your birthday mistress” Brijesh responded.

One thought on “Happy Birthday Goddess By T. Monk. Pt, 2

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