Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Month: September 2025

Disciplining The Maid (Part One)

I snapped the last large metal clip from my suspender belt onto the top of my stocking, and then stood up to adjust them all so that my stockings lay correctly on my leg, the black seams dead straight down the back of my legs. Once they were perfect, I pulled the white frilly underskirt and short black skirt up over my ass, sitting them in place on my waist.

My husband told me as he left the house that I needed to get that maid around that evening, as he needed to have words about the standards of her work. She’ll be here tonight when he turns up. I picked up the black top with the big hole in front for my tits to hang through, and pulled it over my head, pulling it down and tucking it into the waistband of the skirt. I had to arrange that as well, so it sat flat on my skin, my tits swinging freely and perfectly framed. I tied the white apron round my waist, the bottom part over my skirt and the top up over my shoulders, barely covering my naked tits. The fabric of the apron rubbing on my nipples generally made them hard enough that the nipples could catch on the seam of the apron and therefore be loosely held in place, at least until a violent movement happened that would free them from their apron covering.

I checked the side boob presentation and loved what I saw – massive tits seemingly defying gravity with gorgeous curves tantalisingly displayed. I finally fitted the white maid’s cap (pinned into my hair) and I was ready to go.

The way this scenario usually worked was that he showed the maid what she was doing wrong, spanked her whilst masturbating her and finally fucked her, before sending her home to think about what she’d done. It was fun, but I decided I wanted to step it up.

He was so brilliant playing the annoyed employer role that I decided to push him a little and see where he went. So, all dressed up, I was poised at the window waiting for his car to draw up. I had a plan, a plan that I hoped would mean my poor ass being spanked far beyond normal, once again taking one for the team. I had to admit the waiting was making me increasingly horny, and I was so ready to go when he finally arrived.

I wanted my fingers to smell of my cunt, so all the time I was waiting, I was wanking, dipping my fingers as far into my cunt as I could, and rubbing all inside and up to my clit, alternating hands so they both had the aroma of my cunt. I was careful to not get too close to cumming, but maintained a nice steady wank that was keeping me constantly horny.

As he pulled up, I arranged myself on the chaise, my back up the corner so my legs were spread wide, with me leaning back and masturbating with my eyes closed. He opened the door and was almost immediately indignant. After all, he was paying this maid by the hour, and he wasn’t paying her to wank.

Usually after his first moan, the maid is all demure and apologetic, but part of my stepping it up involved the maid becoming more mouthy. So, I told him I needed to masturbate several times a shift to keep my focus on cleaning. Without, I’d drift along and not get anything done. That didn’t soothe him, and he grabbed my hands from my cunt, inhaled the smell of my juices from them, pulled them up over my head with one hand by my wrists, and then placed his other hand directly to my cunt. He started roughly working his hand into my cunt, alternating with squeezing and pulling on my clit. I knew this wouldn’t take long – I was already hyped up and my cunt was already sensitive from all the finger working, so his hard and fast masturbation got me to the edge of orgasm very quickly.

Then he slowed right down, meanly keeping me right on the edge, my body bending upwards to his touch. After a short while of that, he muttered something about getting this over with so we can get back on to the job in hand of my cleaning performance, and then resumed the vigorous finger fucking. It was a matter of seconds before I came, and his little shuddering hand movements extended my orgasm a fair bit.

I must have had a smile on my face after I’d cum, as he said about this being nothing to smile about and that I was in deep deep trouble. He took his hand off my cunt, and I could feel the cold air drifting over it. I didn’t move. I awaited his instruction to get up, which eventually came after he moaned for a while about how he wished he’d employed a decent cleaner rather than a slut that likes to masturbate instead of clean, moaning whilst looking at my exposed slick cunt.

He was in full flow as the exasperated employer, and believe me, he had much to be exasperated about. He told me to straighten my uniform, saying how on earth could I keep a house straight if I couldn’t even keep my uniform straight. I straightened the skirt as much as I could, and realised my right tit had come out from behind the apron, so I put that away, catching the nipple on the seam of the apron in an almost pointless attempt to hold the tit in place. With this apron, that was a losing battle, and one I knew very much turned him on.

He directed me upstairs, and followed me closely behind, his eyes looking up my skirt as I climbed the stairs, fixed at the amazing view of my ass and cunt from underneath the wholly inadequate skirt.

Once at the top, he directed me into the wet room bathroom, onto my knees in front of the shower, then onto all fours with my upper body where the water would land, my revealed ass and cunt very much on show and my hanging tits straining against the fabric of the apron. In that very exposed position, he berated the quality of my cleaning work and told me to get the scrubbing brush he had put beside me and to get scrubbing.

After a few scrubs, he told me to put my back into it, meaning of course that what he actually wanted was to see my 34H tits swinging violently from side to side. They were very soon both outside the apron (one either side) and snapping backwards and forwards with each stroke. I did that for a bit and then stopped, looking round at him.

He moaned that I had stopped, before sarcastically suggesting that I needed another wank to be able to carry on, and then grabbing at my already exposed cunt and starting another finger fuck, unrelenting and hard, getting me on the edge of another orgasm in no time. Just as my body started to move to his rhythm, he stopped and ordered me back to scrubbing, rearranging himself to look at my swinging tits and exposed cunt again whilst leaving me frustrated as I was so close to cumming.

I admit that what I did next was guided by frustration rather than by some sort of grand plan. I was trying to give him more reasons to spank me, more reasons for extra strokes, and to be fair, it worked superbly. He should have let me cum. What I was about to do was totally his fault.

Carla Finally Sees Me (Part Four)

Carla and I extracted ourselves from the body harnesses we wore overnight, providing instant relief to our nipples and cunt flaps, which each had to endure tight sawtoothed clips for hours. My nipples in particular were sore, but we each sucked on each of the other’s nipples, which provided relief from the soreness and discomfort. Our cunt flaps, well, they just had to get on with it.

As Carla was opening cupboards and getting the next piece of orgasm gear out, I texted my husband and told him to kiss Anna, properly, long, to show her how much he loved her. Because I knew I loved Carla as I know he loves Anna. It’s special, and I wanted Anna to know.

I looked up, and Carla saw my eyes widen at what she had got out. It was a fucking machine, not a consumer one, but a serious, custom, hard wearing one. She described it as brutal, unforgiving and costing a small fortune, and she told me to get on it. I didn’t hesitate.

She had set it up with two dildos mounted vertically, the one for the cunt a finger and thumb type, the one for the asshole thicker and with balls. She lubed them up and I knelt with legs either side of the base, leaning on some large cuffs and lowered myself onto the cocks, her moving them to get them into the right place to penetrate me, me lowering my body until they were fully inside me.

Those cuffs are actually thigh to calf restraints, so once I was fully impaled, she fitted them to my legs (meaning my legs were folded at my knees and I was unable to unbend them at all) and adjusted them to make sure they were tight. Next, she locked the restraints to the base of the fucking machine, and pulled at them to make sure I wasn’t able to move. I was impaled and there was nothing I could do about it. Next, she pulled my arms behind my body, put my wrists in more cuffs, and locked them to the back of the machine. This had the effect of bending my body back a little and pushing my naked tits forwards and upwards.

Then, she pulled out some clover nipple clamps and a clover clit clamp, all linked by chains. She put them on me, adjusting them all to be comfortable (confirming with me that they were), before making them a couple of turns tighter each. Bitch!

Finally, she produced a drool gag, or specifically my drool gag. I recognised it. She presumably got it from my husband, so all the time he was fucking Anna, did he know what Carla had in store for me? Was his cock ridiculously hard because of it? (I’m guessing yes and yes!)

She applied the gag, adjusted it to be comfortable, then did another turn on each of the three clover clamps.

She said I was ready, leant in and kissed the end of my nose, then turned the machine on. It was quite gentle at first, but a heady mix of vibration and pumping in and out with the finger and thumb dildo, whilst being locked into place with the restraints and dildo in my ass, meant that as it accelerated, I had nowhere to go, I had to take all the pumping, all the machine fucking.

I couldn’t say anything. All I could do is moan, and moan I did, louder as it sped up. She stroked my hair as the machine accelerated, driving me to orgasm without any finesse. It was that heady mix of love and brutality. And as I came, it didn’t stop. I looked at Carla, half-begging for some compassion (whilst secretly hoping there would be none), and I realised she had put the remote control for the machine on the coffee table in front of me, in view, but out of reach of both of us.

She knelt next to me, tightened the clover clamps again, and then held my head against her tits as the machine carried on fucking me. It was utterly relentless.

I like relentless, in a fucking context.

I came again, and again, lost in the heavy mindset of helplessness, that subspace of endurance, her tender stroking of my hair in stark contrast with the unstopping viciousness of the machine fuck. A head fuck indeed.

I lost track of time, lost track of how much I’d cum. Each orgasm meant tightening of the clover clamps, from discomfort to searing pain, dulled only by the orgasms and cuntal pounding. I was sobbing, crying, moaning, in a heady mix of pleasure and pain.

And then it stopped. She took off the ball gag, the cuffs and restraints (leaving the clover clamps in place) and helped me up off the machine. My legs were weak, and she almost had to carry me to the chair overlooking the machine.

She then got another set of three clover clamps out, applied them to her own nipples and clit, tightening them until she was clearly in pain, until her own nipples and clit were clearly deformed by the clamps, and then she climbed onto the machine, only having to lube the anal dildo, as the finger and thumb one was so slick from my cunt. She did up the thigh to ankle restraints and secured them to the machine, then said next time I’d get a chance to do to her what she did to me.

But for now, she said this was real Cowgirl, producing a ten gallon hat, putting it on, then starting the machine. Even though she had no movement at all, like I had, she seemed to be riding it like a horse, the first orgasm taking a while, but then them coming thick and fast, with clover clamp adjustments after they happened, all under my watchful gaze.

I have no idea if it fucked her or me longer, but eventually, she stopped and released her legs.

And then, without cleaning us up, she put my dress on me, one on herself, bundled me in her car and took me home. She’d broken me.

Once home, my husband helped me to get to the sofa, where I slumped, messy cunt on full view. She lounged in the chair opposite, legs spread wide, and my husband knelt down in front of her. I had forgotten she had offered him our messy cunts to clean up, and the machine had left us both in a hell of a state. Slowly and with precision, he licked Carla’s cunt clean first, stopping every so often to share a cunt flavoured kiss with either her or me. Once hers was clear, he started on mine, not stopping until it was clear of stickiness.

They kissed, snogged really, then she lent over me and kissed me, properly, lovingly, a long tongue jousting kiss that went on forever.

She apologised for breaking me, but I told her it was an easy price to pay for that night, and I’d be there tonight, no matter what.

As Carla got up to leave, she gave my husband a memory card. I queried what it was, and she said it’s my machine fuck, for him to enjoy and wank over. My hell and ecstasy laid out for him to see, to get him hard, to get him worked up. I just knew before we got back to the pub tonight that he’d watch it, and that his cock would be ridiculously hard because of it, and he’d fill my cunt or asshole with it before I go back to Carla. I’d like that. But in the meantime, I needed to rest. It was a hell of a twelve hours.