The home was typical New England. Stately, white, and set elegantly upon a rise in.the Vermont countryside. Stacy saw the home the minute she left the Greyhound in the town square, for it re- posed beyond the village streets. The girl's first thought concerned how utterly gorgeous the maple woods must be in fall.
It was, after all, Stacy's third position since high school. All had been served with excellence and
– efficiency,' earning her the normal letters of refer- ral. Indeed, each position was a step upwards for
Stacy, bringing the commensurate increase in sal- ary. How glad she was that she had favored domes- tic service in high school! Her teacher, Miss
Cummins, had been such an excellent instructor!
Goodness knows, the domestic market was becom- ing increasingly crowded and competitive these days. A girl had to be very pretty and very good to land any sort of reasonable position. Thus the girl swang happily up the narrow street, her light case an easy burden in her hand. How delightful to be seventeen on this perfect summer day!
The click of Stacy's heels made a staccato upon the winding walk as she approached the edifice, for the paving was of pure Vermont marble. She liked
the sound her heels made. It was so mature… and exciting. Wasn't it wonderful that girls once again wore skirts and heels, she mused. Gracious, those photos of her mother back in the seventies! Girls wore those.awful jeans and such cloddy, lumpy heels! And that terrible rock music. It was nice to be a girl again in a more subtle and calmer time.
The bell was answered by a mid-thirties woman who was neither attractive nor unattractive. Her attire attested that she would probably be the housekeeper under whom Stacy would serve. Her face was pleasant, however, a change from that frumpish Mrs. Donaldson in Albany, to say the least. Stacy was shown in to the sitting room, a magnificent place of thick carpet and stone fire- place.
"I am Miss Stone," said the woman after they had been seated, "but we use first names here at
Woodriding House. Excepting the master and mis- tress, of course. They, we address by their station.
Thus, you shall call me Norena. Now… it's Stacy, isn't it? Yes, well, Stacy, I have your letter of rec- ommendation from the Hillings in Albany. They speak quite highly of you. Your credentials are very good, it seems. Master and Mistress only employ the finest young ladies, you see. They're most particular. We like the younger domestics here at Woodriding, no more than seventeen or eighteen. We'd prefer to get them right out of high school, but we've found that the… shall we say
… uninitiated ones simply don't do. We prefer a domestic with a little experience behind her. Saves so much work and adjustment. Oh, the brand new ones do quality work, it seems, but of course there's the other things, like the whippings and the sex. Takes a little time for a new one, and we'd rather have one quite adept at these aspects of maid service."
"Oh, I understand perfectly, Norena," said
Stacy. "I've been whipped quite a lot already, and as for sex I have…"
"Yes, I see that here in the letter, Stacy. Very good. You should work out quite well. Master and
Mistress leave the staff up to me, of course, and you seem quite nice. Let's see, seventeen… out of school a year now… and two previous positions.
Excellent. Well, come, Stacy, I'll show you about the place, and then let you meet the other maids and, hopefully, Master and Mistress."
The house was richly decorated and exuded with softness and quietness. Stacy was impressed by its appointments. It certainly was the best home she had been in!
"This is -your room, Stacy. You share it, of course, with the other two girls."
"What a beautiful bed!" exclaimed Stacy. "Oh, it's lovely." The bed was huge and covered with the loveliest of blankets.
"It will hold the three of you quite nicely," said
Norena proudly. "Here at Woodriding the maids sleep together. We feel it's the best way to promote a closeness among the girls. Maids who care for one another do so much better work together, it seems. You have, naturally, slept with other maids before?" ,"Oh; yes. At Hillings residence, Donna and I slept together. She was so very good at sex. Just did all sorts of things with her mouth on my pussy.
I've made love with boys and girls since I was twelve. Mother encouraged me since she wished that I go into domestic service. Miss Cummins, my domestic teacher, really couldn't teach me any more about sex. But Donna… golly… she…"
"Yes, well, I'm glad you like the room, Stacy," said Norena. "You see, it has a color television as well. And a phone. When the Master or Mistress calls for one of you to provide them pleasure you must always stop whatever you're doing and hop right upstairs. At once. Even if you are having sex with each other."
"I understand perfectly, Norena."
"Mrs. Hillings pointed out one fault in her letter,
Stacy. She remarked that you often seem preoccu- pied with kissing other maids, even during work or duties. I encourage my girls to kiss each other, but
I think you'll find, Stacy, that you have ample free time here, to do that. Not in the kitchen while you're working."
"Thank you, Norena. I do admit to Mrs. Hillings' comments. I don't know why, but I really just like to kiss pretty girls. I shall try to behave myself. I value this position very much"
"Fine, Stacy. Now here is the clothes bureau for, the three of you. At Woodriding the maids all wear the same costume, so you can put your things away in the closet,,See, here in the top drawer is your blouse supply, and in the bottom, panties. In the closet hang your skirts, and on the floor your heels. There are several pair there, certainly one will be comfortable. All of you wear the same things, skirts, blouses, panties. You share them all.
Nothing belongs to anyone in particular. Natu- rally, the maids keep their things washed and ironed."
"Oh, that's sweet," said Stacy. "I'think sharing underpants is sexy."
"Yes, well… why don't you hop into your cos- tume while we're here, Stacy."
Stacy undressed and,put her things in her case, which she stored at the top of the closet. The panties were all the same, perhaps thirty pair, sheer white banlon which fit Stacy like a skin.
Stacy was impressed. Her brown thatch was very evident through the panties. Quite possibly the mistress liked the view of pubic hair. A point for her, thought Stacy. The blouse was white rayon, the current popular servant's type with sweeping off-the-shoulder neckline of low proportions. She'd worn the same at Hillings, but these were of much more expensive material. The skirt was black, to mid-thigh, and the heels were narrow and also black. Stacy felt sensuous, and so terribly femi- nine.
Norena helped Stacy adjust the shoulder bows on the blouse so that the neckline fell to its proper place at nipple level. The top half of Stacy's aureolas showed nicely, as was customary. She bent over as if to dust or sweep, and all of her nipples and most of the breasts swung free of the blouse.
"Perfect. Thank you, Norena," she smiled. It was the perfect blouse for a maid these days, said
Cosmopolitan and Seventeen. Stacy had worn the same in her other two positions, and had learned that a good little maid left her bows very loose so that her breasts fell out free most of the time. One simply didn't pop them back in. That was very juvenile in this day and age.
Off the kit,chen was the dining room and a pan- try, and the kitchen itself was huge. In the center was a table of great proportions.
"At Woodriding we expect our maids to be well experienced in discipline," said Norena. "I simply don't have time to try and catch all the errors you
make. We expect the girls to respond to their own mistakes. If you deserve a whipping, simply lay over the table here, legs spread, skirt up above your underpants completely so that your bare waist shows. I'll whip you when I have time. You just lie there and wait. I simply can't stop what '
I'm doing to whip a girl every time she requires one."
"Oh, that's nice," said Stacy. "I love the honor system. I never cheat when I deserve a whipping."
"I don't give a set amount of whip lashes," said
Norena. "It's really just how I feel at the moment and how serious the offense was. And, of course, how busy I am at the moment. But I'll try to get to you as soon as possible, so that you may get back to your work. Just have patience. I whip you only on your pants. Only the Master or Mistress may whip you bare. There are also tables in the sitting room, library, upstairs hall and bedrooms in case you need be whipped there. Just find a table and wait. If I don't know you're there one of the other maids will tell me. Naturally, the Master and Mis- tress may also whip you at any time. I'm sure you've been a domestic long enough to know that the heads of the household do not need a reason to punish a maid. They may do so just for their own gratification and pleasure."
"Oh, yes. I am well aware of that, Norena. It is their privilege, and part of my being a maid. I do expect it. My former employers took full use of that right. That's what girls are for."
"In the master bedroom, the Master and Mis- tress have some excellent whipping devices," said
Norena. In addition, there is a whipping post in the yard for good weather. I am allowed to whip only your bottoms, but the employers of course may
whip girls anywhere on their bodies. You do under- stand that, Stacy?"
"Yes, of course."
"Now, here in the pantry on the wall, are the whips. I just don't have time to stand there trying to choose. Simply select one yourself when you deserve punishment and lay it on the table beside you."
Stacy had never seen quite so large a selection.
There were at least a dozen.
"You can see for yourself, Stacy, some are quite
… efficient. I'm afraid if you select certain ones you may have your panties torn and ruined. Other ones are more gentle. But, it's entirely up to the maid."
"Well, that certainly sounds fair," answered
Stacy. "You're very nice to work for."
"Come, I'll show you the cellar." The rooms below the house were stone, well fitted, and not . damp in the least. There was a fruit pantry, a laun- dry room, and two other rooms which were en- closed by heavy wooden doors. Norena opened one.
The room was "Oooh, a punishment room," said Stacy, her eyes wide. "The Hillings didn't have one… but
I've heard about them. Do you punish us here?"
"I don't. This is for Master and Mistress only.
Maids are punished here for more… serious of- fenses… or sometimes just for the sport of it. It's fairly common in New England."
"I've never seen so many chains and things. And some of those things I just can't imagine what they are used for. But I'll bet they hurt a girl."
"Of course they do, Stacy. Mistress especially likes to hurt girls. I suppose it's rather a hobby for her. Master is so busy with his business and his
government job. Mistress must find something to do, and the maids please her so in here. Does it bother you?"
"No, not at all. Just curious," said Stacy. "Mis- tress must be a rather exciting woman. it's just that I've never been hurt any other way than whip- ping. But then again, I suppose my body is as good as the next girl's for that sort of thing. Just have to get used to it if I'm going to keep my position."
"Yes, Stacy. I'd say you'd do quite well in this room. I wouldn't worry about it. By the way, you don't mind occasional ropes and chairs about the house, do you? I mean, on your arms and legs.
Mistress and Master like to see the maids wear such items occasionally."
"Oh, no, not at all. Miss Cummins says a girl bound is much more attractive. I saw Donna tied once. She looked super! Anyway, heavens, we learned in domestic class that bondage goes with the job. No problem."
"The employers also have parties, Stacy, and of course you'll be expected to please the guests in various… well… ways."
"You mean fuck the men and suck the women.
Sorry, Norena, Miss Cummins always told us to talk plain. I'm quite good at that activity. After all, what's a maid for?"
"Excellent, Stacy. I think your attitude is very good. One other thing, getting back to whipping for a moment, there may be times when I'm in town or too busy to whip one of you for something.
At Woodriding, we expect the girls to whip each other when necessary… and do a good job of it."
"Well, I must admit I haven't whipped another girl as yet, Norena, but it certainly doesn't seem too difficult. I'm sure I'd enjoy it and do a good job
of it. I think it's nice that you trust the maids to whip each other."
"The other room, which I won't show you now," said Norena, "is for reform affairs. For more mature females, so to speak."
"I'm afraid I don't understand," said Stacy.
"Well, you know that three years ago this state and others'sought to save money by eliminating women's prisons, except for the more serious of- fenses such as capital and such things. A convicted female now can have a choice between imprison- ment for her term, or being punished severely for one day. It was an excellent decision, for most women choose the punishment, and it has reduced female prison population to a bare minimum. Saves tremendous expenses each year. In this state, there are three homes, well equipped with punish- ment facilities. Woodriding is one. The state chose only those places where the owners are into the pleasures of such things, of course. The woman of the house is the one required to punish the females assigned to the place. It's not for modesty's sake.
Women just do a better job of punishing other women than men do, so naturally the state requires that obligation. It takes a very special female to perform the task well, and of course Mistress is very good at it. A woman must enjoy the job.
Mistress loves it. Of course, Master's job in the state government helped too. Anyway, the reform affairs take place on the first Saturday of each month, in that room. Sometimes there are three or four to be punished, sometimes more. Master watches when he can."
"Gosh, sounds intriguing," answered Stacy.
"Are the women punished well?"
"Indeed. Mistress hurts them terribly. She's so good at it. The state requires an efficient job of it, or one can lose the contract. Yet, what female would rather not suffer for one day, than to spend a year or two in jail? Pretty women shouldn't be in prison anyway. They're much too valuable to their husbands and families to be away for long. When a woman is in prison it punishes her husband too, for she is not home providing her body as she should be. It has worked out very well, like it did in the older t;imes, when females were punished rather than imprisoned. One wonders why female impris- onment ever began, anyway! Well, happily, times have changed again, and it works out so much better this way. And naturally, it produces much fun for those who apply the punishments. The recipients are extremely glad, once the agony is over. I mean, one day, and that's it. They are free to go home. Doubtful too whether they'll ever com- mit a crime again because the hurt is fantastic. The rate of repeat offenders is now very low. In the past, imprisoned females had a high rate of con- tinued offenses."
"Are the women punished according to their offenses or length of term they are replacing?" asked Stacy.
"The state found that impractical. How can Mis- tress, for instance, apply one degree of pain to one female and another degree to the next one? Each woman is different. Some can take more than others. No, Mistress is allowed full sway with all of the recipients. In fact, she doesn't even care to know of their particular offenses, She hurts them all alike, using whatever comes to her mind at the moment. Gives her a chance to experiment some too. However, each woman gets a different punish- ment. Varies things. It's really a break for the women, no matter how much it hurts. Mistress usually starts about four, and goes on until nine or ten. So it really is only several hours of suffering, rather than a full day."
"How are the woman prisoners assigned here,
Norena? By chance?"
"Well, they are supposed to be by custom, but
Mistress has a… 'girlfriend… ahem… in the assignment office. It seems like the prettiest ones are assigned here, as well as the youngest. Hardly ever see one over thirty here. Some are eighteen or nineteen. Mistress likes those a lot."
"Wow. That's young for heavy stuff. Mistress must have a ball with them. Do you go in there,
Norena?"
"Only occasionally to bring in drinks. I can't linger long, though…" Norena's voice trailed off wistfully. It was obvious that she regretted her position as housekeeper at those times.
"Well, at least you do get to see a little, Norena.
Wish I could attend once."
"You will be much luckier than I, Stacy. Mis- tress usually has the maids help her in there. It's hard for her to torture everyone, especially if there are four or five. Besides, sometimes she just likes to sit with the Master, with her martini, and watch the maids do it to the prisoners. I can imagine it must be very exciting to watch you young ones punish them. Fun for you girls too. I envy you.
Trish and Dania get very worked up, they tell me.
Well, you know what I mean."
"You mean they come in their panties."
"Well… yes. You are blunt, Stacy."
"I think the whole idea is super. At least these days a woman has a choice of prison or torture for a day. Makes good sense to me."
"Well, we've talked for long enough down here.
Let's go upstairs and introduce you to the other maids. I think Master and Mistress are in, too.
They have been looking forward to you."
Dania and Trish were a contrast. The former.had long dark hair, the other short and blonde. They made a pretty pair in the kitchen as Stacy and the housekeeper walked in. The introductions were made, accompanied by the expected kisses. Trish kissed Stacy like a girl should, with full embrace and arms hugging tightly around Stacy's slender back. It was a warm, firm kiss of tingling sensa- tions and Stacy was sorry to see it end. Trish had thrust her hips nicely up against Stacy's, a nicety that Stacy always liked in a girl. Chalk one up for.
Trish, thought Stacy. The blonde was cute. Good in bed too, very likely.
Dania had to kiss Stacy encumbered by her cir- cumstance. The deliciously slim brunette had her wrists and elbows bound behind her, thus she could only offer her thrusting lips to Stacy's.
Dania's kiss was magnificent despite ' her hin- drance. Her face turned from side to side as she tasted Stacy's lips, and finally her warm tongue slipped naughtily into Stacy's mouth. Stacy felt the current charge through her as Dania refused to stop. Her kiss was now accompanied by cute little mewling noises as she began to turn on to Stacy.
Her body, despite her ropes, wiggled pleasantly.
Dania's bondage had forced her breasts out of her blouse completely and they lay against Stacy's blouse. Stacy could feel the heat of them, and the sight of them was a delightful surprise. Dania, like
Trish, was Stacy's age, but her breasts were some- thing else. It wasn't that they were big. They really weren't at all any bigger than Stacy or
Trish's. It was that they were so beautifully long.
Stacy was reminded of the movies she had seen of
Tahitian girls with long breasts from nursing chil- dren, not cucumber-like and unsightly, but beauti- fully curved and exciting with exquisitely long nipples. To say that Stacy immediately liked Trish and Dania was an understatement. They knew how to kiss!
"Sorry, Stacy," said Dania, "I can't hold you when I kiss. As you see, I have a little problem with my arms. Mistress has had me this way since morning. She likes to use the elbow ropes on me a lot. Makes my tits pop right out of my blouse when she pulls my elbows together. Pleases her a lot."
"Mistress keeps tying one of 'em or the other," complained Norena. "How does she expect me to get the work done when one of them is always help- less. She simply doesn't realize that I need both of them around here. She knows I complain about it, that's.why she Cook on another girl in you, Stacy.
"Well, I've done her share and mine," pouted
Trish. "Dania and I pick up the slack:for each other, you know. It's 'cause:we love each other so much, isn't it, Dania?"
"Mmm-hmm," agreed Dania.
"Yes, you do, both of you, I must admit," said the housekeeper. "You're good workers. But I think Stacy will be a great help, don't you?"
"Oh, yes," said Trish. "And she's so cute. We like her, don't we, Dania?"
"Can hardly wait for bed," smiled Dania. "Hope
Mistress unties my arms by then. Hate to spend my first night with Stacy like this. I want to hold her when I eat her pussy. Do you like us, Stacy?"
"You're both just super! I'll love working with you… and being with you. Honestly, Dania, you have the most unbelievable breasts I think I've ever seen. Have you nursed?"
"No way," laughed Dania. "It's Mistress' doing.
Breast weights in the punishment room do won- ders in a couple of months. She wants my tits about two inches longer still. She'll get the job done. Golly, if my folks could see my tits now they wouldn't believe it! You should see 'em when I run!
Oh, well, I kinda like it. Sexy. Mistress is going to start on Trish's nipples soon with the punishment weights. An inch, Trish?"
"Inch and a half! Boy, will I be something in a tank top at the beach Oh well, Dania, we chose to be maids. Wonder what she's gonna.do to Stacy?
Maybe a six-inch tongue!" The girls all laughed.
"I don't need a six-inch tongue," said Stacy.
"You'll see, in bed tonight!"
"Well,' that's enough chatter," said Norena.
"There's work to be, done. You have all night for girl games. Show Stacy her duties and get her started. There's so much t6 be' done before Miss- tress"bridge cub tonight. I j' fact'," I' think I'll ask
Mistress if she will untie Dania. I simply need you, all right now."
Stacy was shown her duties about the kitchen. It was a matter of making the glasses sparkle, pre- paring cheese dips, and other culinary duties.
There was no time for small talk at all. Yet, girls of this age need play as well, like frisky pups. Stacy felt a tap at her shoulder as she fixed the spreads.
When she turned, Trish planted a kiss on her mouth.
"Surprise!" laughed Trish. Trish's hands pulled
Stacy's breasts out of her blouse and played with them. There was only one way for a girl to respond to that sort of nonsense, and Stacy's fingers closed over Trish's warm breasts.
"Want to play with Dania's? She can't do much to stop us," laughed Trisk
"Let's," said Stacy. The two imps found Dania's unique breasts very willing playthings. The long, curving flesh was fun to fondle.
"Dania gets turned on easy, Stacy," said Trish.
"Watch." Trish's lips found one of Dania's nipples and sucked on it noisily.
"Ooh, don't, Trish! Not when I'm tied like this.
It isn't fair. You know I turn on when I'm tied and you do things to me. Hey, stop, Trish… oh, don't…"
"See, Stacy! She'll start making funny little
', noises in a minute. Bet her pants are wet already.
Have a look-see!" . Stacy was having a ball. These two girls were fun! Her type of girls indeed,, She began to lift up
Dania's skirt to see if Trish's prediction was true, when her elbow caught a goblet on the counter.
The glass shattered into a dozen pieces on.the floor. The girl. games were.over. No one, spoke.
Stacy was dying. On the job 'less than an hour and already she had broken something.
Trish walked into the pantry and returned with a rust-colored leather whip. She lay the lash on the
– table and spread herself nicely over the shiny maple surface. Her hands found her skirt, and with a crisp rustle it was pulled almost up to her breasts. She tucked it under her.
Stacy had two separate trains of thought at that moment. The first was physical. Trish's slender legs and beautiful taut bottom were delightful to behold. There wasn't a wrinkle in the skintight white panties. A girl in that position was most definitely a super sight. Maids are so precious in white panties! It was a momentary sense of plea- sure, however. Stacy's second thought was of the situation.
"Trish, I broke the glass. I'm the one who should be whipped. Get up, honey."
"No way, Stacy. I started the foolishness. It's not the girl who does the breaking. It's the one who causes it. At least, if we all love each other, we don't turn each other in. We'd rather take it our- selves, but we don't have to. A girl always owns up to her mistakes."
"That's beautiful," sighed Stacy. "Oh, that's just beautiful. That's the way girls should behave.
Donna, at my last place, always used to turn me in because she liked to see me get whipped. Made her sexy. I never complained about her though to the
Mistress because she was so nice to me in bed. But you two are something else. Super special. I love your honesty. I'm gonna love you both a lot."
"Trish remained in her punishment position for quite a while, waiting for Norena'-to come. Dania, being bound, was of no help, so Stacy worked feverishly trying to do the work of three. It was fifteen minutes before the housekeeper came.
"Oh, Trish! Darn you, anyway!" she complained.
"I've so much to do. It's already close to five. It's the worst possible time for a whipping. I'm very angry at you! You deserve a good long one, Trish, but I just haven't time. I'll simply have to make it short but very, very hard."
"Yes, Norena. Thank you. I'm terribly sorry I've caused this problem."
Norena picked up the springy whip and posi- tioned herself behind Trish's expectant bottom.
Trish's hands gripped the sides of the table in anticipation of the hurt. Stacy knew it well. It was what a girl always did with her hands. Stacy turned back to her cheese dips.
"You have to watch, Stacy. It's the rule," said
Trish softly. Stacy wiped her hands on a tea cloth and faced the scene. A girl always had mixed emo- tions about such things. It wasn't the best to see your sister maid punished. After all, it did hurt her, and if you loved her you felt some sympathy.
Yet, if a girl admitted her own peculiarities, it was an exciting thing to see. Stacy knew it would turn her on. Especially someone new like Trish.
The sound of a whip swishing through the air and retorting upon a girl's bottom was unique.
There was nothing else like it. Nor was there a sight like the sudden red streak which appeared under her panties. The lash had been terribly hard.
Trish's knuckles were white as her hands gripped , the table edge.
The.severity of a,w,hipping was determined by how long it took a girl to start making sounds,
Stacj knew that through experience. Even, Miss
Cummias in domestic class,had taught,her,that.
The housekeeper's severity would make Trish yowl quickly, thought Stacy. Unless, of course, Trish . was a really super girl. Thus, when Trish gasped loudly upon the second lash it did not surprise
Stacy. Nor did her squeal at the fourth, nor her full- throated yowl at the seventh. The tenth produced glistening tears which did not quite fall, and the twelfth finally made Trish squirm for the first time. The fourteenth made her knees buckle for just a brief moment, but she quickly stuck her bottom back where it belonged. The fifteenth lash tore a strip from Trish's panties and made Stacy's pants suddenly very wet. She was afraid she was going to orgasm. There was no sixteenth lash. The housekeeper left to get back to her work.
A girl just doesn't get right up after a whipping.
Stacy knew that well. She lays, collecting her sen»s for a bit. If she's a good domestic she doesn't bitch about it either, nor wail, nor com- plain. She might say, like Trish did, "Wow, my ass." But not much more. Nor does a perfect maid get up, rubbing her flaming buttocks with her hands. She simply stands up and lowers her skirt back to where it belongs. If she has tears, she wipes them clean, and changes the subject.
"How are you coming with the dips, Stacy?"
But at least her punishment and courage gets her one thing. In this case, two things. A sensuous, warm kiss from both Stacy and Dania, and a touch- ing of the thighs when one or the other stood next to her at the counter. It was the language of girls.
No words. Just a touch But the message it carried was pure love.
Norena returned a short time later with the employers in tow.:I.t was always a concern, before the initial, introduction,; as to what the mistress and master would look like. Not that it mattered as far as a maid's duties, of course. But it was nice if the household heads were somewhat attractive.
Thus, it was with anxiety that Stacy turned from the counter to be introduced, for the Hillings had not been handsome at all. Stacy stifled a gasp of subtle pleasure. Master and Mistress were quite nice indeed!
They were much younger than the Hillings in
Albany. Perhaps mid-thirties, thought Stacy.
Young enough yet to still possess the desires and emotions inherent in employer-maid relationships, and with the physical capability to do more than just fantasize about it. Yet, mature enough to have the necessary patience to wring full benefit out of any involvement with a domestic. They would pun- ish, and bed, with sophistication and without hurry, and obviously would do both jobs well. A perfect age for employers, Miss Cummins had said.
Master was the epitome of dignified business- man. His'government service showed in his aplomb and bearing, and even in the way he held his mar- tini. His vested suit revealed his taste in clothes. It was beige, with a rust tie to give a touch of color.
Master was one of those gentlemen who did not expect his clothes to put on a show for him. The clothes were elegant and correct, but did not cry for attention. It was the handsome and sculptured face, and bearing, of the man which would be no- ticed in a crowd. He looked at Stacy with obvious satisfaction, which pleased her, of course. Maids are supposed to be looked at with desire. But
Master had dignity even in his inspection of her half-bare breasts. His eyes fell upon them,'as they well should, but it was' not a leering, lecherous glance that Stacy had seen so often from Mr.
Hillings. Master was of much higher class, and would control his emotions and countenance out- side of his bedroom. Master rated with Stacy already.
Stacy found only one word for Mistress. Elegant.
Rather a period type word, but the only perfect one. Like her husband, Mistress was dignity, beauty and class material. She wore her dark hair long still, which spoke for her refusal to submit herself to that particular age when some women feel they must wear a more mature hairstyle. As a result, the hair gave Mistress a subtle, girlish air of appearance which contrasted beautifully with her maturity of thirty-five. Mistress exuded sex, ob- served Stacy. Not in a blatant or obvious way, but in a sophisticated, controlled manner. It didn't shout out its existence, but it lurked just beneath the surface ready to blossom in full excitement at the right time. And by her eyes, there were many right times. Stacy knew females, even at her age.
Mistress was a delight, and Stacy understood her completely. Mistress was an enjoyable Jekyll and
Hyde, Stacy visualized. That erotic female who would sit in the library perusing a journal in read- ing glasses and conservative dressing gown. But her eyes would subtly follow the journey of a maid across the room, disturbing her thoughts, and within the hour she might well be a naked cobra, swinging her whip with sexual excitement upon the flesh of the young domestic who had aroused her. The whipping would not be frenzied with this
Mistress. It would be a banquet of leisurely courses, each lash an island of pleasure in itself.
Stacy Knew her appraisal of Mistress was accurate. . The lovely woman was also intelligent in her attire. She did not attempt to compete with the nearly exposed breasts of her young domestics, although it was obvious that her breasts were lovely. Instead, she wore a high-necked satin blouse which allowed for the full swell of the breasts. It was purposely a definite contrast to the revealing blouses of her maids, and thus, very clever.
She greeted Stacy with a smile of honesty and appreciation. As she had been taught, Stacy curt- syed to Mistress, then stood in front of her to allow her the liberties to which she was entitled. The kiss was dignified, as Stacy knew it would be, but promised more by its firmness. Mistress lowered
Stacy's neckline the necessary inch or two to bare the breasts, and fondled them softly, patiently and expertly, until the expected nipple erection took place. She returned Stacy's neckline to its former position.
"Thank you, Mistress," said Stacy correctly.
"My husband and I are glad to have you at
Woodriding, Stacy. You appear to be quite nice."
"Thank you, Mistress," replied Stacy with the correct amount of blush, practiced so diligently in domestic class.
"Pardon me, Mistress," said the impatient housekeeper, "but, as I mentioned, I simply must have Dania's arms untied. Your bridge club is only three hours away, and I need all three of the girls."
"Yes, of course, Norena. How forgetful of me.
How long have you been bound, Dania?"
"You tied me this morning, Mistress," said
Dania.
"Yes. Simply' forgot."Come here, Dania, and I'll undo you." Mistress"pulled the ropes from her arms and Dania gasped at the sudden,.release of pressure. Dania could not as yet put her arms back in their proper position, and they stayed behind her.. Stacy could see the deeply imbedded rope imprints in Dania's flesh.
"Thank you, Mistress," said Dania, slowly easing her arms back to their normal state.
Just before eight, Mistress inspected her maids who stood in a row in the hall. It was her custom, to assure her guests that the attractive domestics presented a lovely vision. After all, maids, like cars and furniture, were things to show off with pride in society. A status symbol, of course.
Mistress flicked a curl and a lock here, and a straightening of belts at the waist. Lastly, a fur- ther loosening of the shoulder bows to make sure that the delicate pink aureolas were nicely exposed.
"Now bend as if serving, girls. Let's see if the bows are loose enough."
The young servants bent forward properly, and three pair of saucy breasts pushed their nipples free of the blouses.
"Good. Just right, girls. Be sure to bend fully forward when serving. Let the nipples be seen each time. Dania, I think I'll loosen your bows a little more so that when you serve, your breasts will fall out completely. They are unique and I've worked so hard on them. I should receive some compli- ments from my friends. They will be quite envious,
I'm afraid. Now, remember, always curtsy when spoken to, lifting the skirt up high on the way down. Show all of your underpants briefly. Stacy, are you familiar with the proper curtsy?"
"Oh, yes, Mistress. Learned in school. Always show the pants."
"Very well. There's the doorbell. Run along now, and bring in the dips and wine in fifteen.minutes."
The bridge party had gone well, the domestics scurrying about with trays and decanters. They performed mistake-free, happily for the Mistress.
It was embarrassing, of course, to the host to have domestics who spilled or floundered. Stacy,
Trish and Dania performed perfectly and Mistress was very pleased. Thus, by eleven, the dishes and glasses had been washed and the three had showered and plopped themselves nakedly on their huge bed upstairs.
"Oh, good," said Dania. "It's just eleven. We' can watch this week's chapter of Lanya of the Jungle on channel 10. Do you watch it, Stacy?
Trish and I always do on Thursdays. Really turns us on."
"Oh, yes, Dania. I just love Marlene Parkins in the role. She's such a good actress, and so sexy. I . could just eat her up. I missed last week, though.
The Hillings had a late party, damn it. You can fill me in. I love TV after eleven. The adult shows are so good these days. Mom says that back when she was younger they didn't have Lanya or any such shows. Must have been the pits in those days."
The screen crackled to life on the bureau top, and the three girls lay side by side, their elbows holding up their heads. They presented an appearance of three identical children's dolls, the three slender backs and upthrusting bottoms exactly alike in every way.
In the olden days it had been The Perils of
Pauline and Flash Gordon as television serials.
Today, Lanya Was the current hit, with her seem- ingly endless misfortunes and captures, deep with- in a jungle society; Once, long ago, there had been
Tarzan, but the serials had reflected the conserva- tism of that era.. These days, actors and, actresses didn't need special effects or fill-ins. Everything
' was perfectly real, and therefore much, much bet- ter. Of course, for the salaries the stars received, it should be real.
The screen flashed a recommendation that young people under twelve should be forewarned of the content by parents. It was an FCC regulation only, for what kid these days didn't have his or her own TV set in the bedroom. Stacy had begun watching Lanya at ten, when Barbara Kerry had played the role.
The plot was thin, but it didn't matter. Marlene Parkins made up for it, and no one cared about the shallow scripts. "Lanya" sat by her friendly jungle stream, as this chapter opened, breast-feeding her son, an event which was happily repeated in many chapters. Naturally, Marlene Parkins could breast- feed, for the part required it. The producers made sure that they abided by the reality regulations, and the camera zoomed in on a closeup of the child nursing a turgid nipple. Lanya's milk ran and spurted nicely about the screen.
"Oooh," exclaimed Trish. "She's got such a lot.
Turns me on. Like to have a lunch on her tits myself."
"Shush, Trish," said Dania. "We want to hear."
The child continued its sucking and Lanya lay back her head in obvious pleasure at the sensations it caused her. The three girls on the bed could almost feel the sensations themselves, and Stacy felt Trish's hand resting on her bare buttocks suddenly-. She wiggled closer to Trish.
The evil and bearded group of slavers naturally came upon the scene, and liked what they saw in
Lenya. Lanya didn't like them, obviously, and took off like a-cheetah in her brief tiger-skin panties.
The girl could really run. Naturally, though, there was the tree root. She was set upon and bound, her heaving, panting breasts dribbling milk from their bouncing on the trail. Poor Lanya. Roped again, as usual. What now? Commercial time.
There was the trek back to the slaver's camp with Lanya trussed to a pole between two native carriers like a dead animal. Then the heroine was tied between two posts' by upraised and spread arms to await the whip of Longo, the chief bad- man, of rippling muscles and rotten personality.
Too, there appeared Ula, his resident concubine, who would like nothing better than to see Lanya have her hide stripped off. Ula didn't like white girls at all.
Nasty Longo raised his whip to begin on Lanya, but friendly Ula bade him hold for a moment, so that.she might taunt Lanya a little first. Her hands played with Lanya's breasts, bringing more milk to the screen, then in hatred, Ula ripped off Lanya's pants. She would be whipped nude. Commercial time.
The three bare domestics were already squirm- ing and wiggling on the bedspread, their arms around each other. Commercials were nice for girl kissing, and the three took advantage of the time to exchange some mouth-to-mouth fun.
Poor Lanya! Here it comes. She looks gorgeous with her golden pubic hair. Zap! A dandy! Look at that mark on her back! Gosh, poor Lanya is going to get twenty zaps. Zowie! Right on that nice bot- tom! Closeup frame too. Long-range mikes are ex- cellent. Catch the whip sounds well, and, wow, can that girl yell! There, that's her twenty. Longo's happy. Ula's happy. Lanya's net so happy. Let's see her backside now.: There. Wow! Real blood trickling from a couple of spots.
"That girl is really super," remarked Stacy.
"Heck of a whipping." Stacy found one of Dania's long breasts and held it.
What next for Lanya? Look, she's tied to stakes in the ground. Longo really has a tool, doesn't he?
Give it to her, Longo! Wow, look at Lanya throw her hips into that guy, tied or not. Getting the hell raped out of her. Lanya orgasms with a squeal.
Longo, the nasty s.o.b., comes in her pussy.
Shame, Longo! Come on, camera, let's really see if she got it. Closeup. Yep, it's running out of her puss. Good camera work. Now what? Ula is kneel- ing over her. Oh, no. Lanya has to eat her out?
Yep! Do a job on her, Lanya. That's the girl! Wowl
Can Marlene Parkins eat a girl? You better believe it! Commercial again.
"You two want to see the rest of this?" gasped
Dania. "I'm on fire. Let's play pussy games."
"Oh, Dania," said Stacy. "There's only a minute or two left. You can wait. Then we'll have a super session."
The last scene was the "come-on" for next week's episode. A mini-preview. Bound to still another post, our heroine watches Ula prepare the branding iron. Her eyes widen as the native girl, aims the hot iron at one of her slender thighs.
Closer… closer… Cut. End of Chapter Six.,
Next week, Marlene Parkins, as Lanya, will be branded on her leg. Really.
The girls moved up off their tummies to get ' down to business. Three wet spots marked their former resting places. identical
"Let's give Stacy a welcome to Woodricking,", said Trish. "Ever have taro girls eat you together,!
Stacy?"
"Not until now," smiled Stacy, squirming deli- ciously and spreading her legs. "Oh, God… that's fantastic! Oooooh…" Her hands waved aim- lessly in the air and finally found their proper places in the bobbing hair of her two lovers' heads.
It was well after one before the bedroom of the domestics became devoid of moans, giggles, mewl- ings and screams.