Chapter twelve

Carmen stood straight-backed with her hands clenched together around the plastic handle of the feather duster when she heard voices approaching.

She had been told to wait in the master bedroom. It was richly, if sparsely furnished in tasteful creme and pastel pink. An intricately woven oriental rug of rose and copper thread warmed the polished walnut floor and a cool breeze gently wafted the pale velvet curtains leading out to an alabaster stone balconet that overlooked the sun-kissed waters of Lake Springfield.

Holding the rigid posture was a chore given the softly humming device buzzing away underneath her fluffy white petticoats but she endured sweet **** for Ms Makarova. The gorgeous older woman had been so kind to her after-all.

She had given Carmen a new job and clothing that fit properly for starters…

The black and white french maids outfit hugged her lavish new curves remarkably well. Two huge strapless cups of ebony satin trimmed in white chiffon supported her monumental milkers better than enlarged Latina had expected and a long snowy ribbon, at least a hand's breadth wide, was tied around her narrow waist in a large bow above her protuberant butt.

White ribbons and bows appeared to be the order of the day. As though Carmen were a fancy gift waiting to be unwrapped.

A small line of them ran down the front of the slim corset top from beneath her mammoth breasts down to her navel, cinching the shiny midnight fabric skin-tight over the small paunch of her soft belly and slender sides. Two more adorned the tops of her dark mid-thigh stockings and another smaller pair were set above the open toes of her vertiginously tall platform heels.

There was even one in her hair, piling the unmanageable mess of raven tresses high on her pretty skull with a few flirty strays hanging loose to frame her young face.

Ms Makarova had been wonderfully helpful in giving Carmen tips on how best to present and comport herself.

She swallowed a moan as a trickle of her own juices ran down the inside of her thick thighs to soak into the ivory lace garters where they pinched her abundant olive flesh as she mentally ran through the rules again.

A good girl should be seen and not heard.

A good girl didn’t speak unless spoken to.

A good girl was obedient and did as she was instructed.

It just so happened that a good girl got rewarded with pussy-melting climaxes that made the world go all fuzzy and soft around the edges.

Carmen wanted to be a very good girl indeed for Ms Makarova.

“...you mean, like a housemate?” A male voice inquired from the hallway.

It was deep and resonant and delivered another surge of excitement coursing through the quivering maids nether regions. Ms Makarova had mentioned a young master of the lakeside manor.

“No, Darling. Forgive me if I was not clear.” The chiming giggle could only be that of Carmen’s recent employer. “I was speaking more along the lines of… new help.”

The bedroom door flew open and the statuesque blonde sashayed in leading a young man by the hand. He didn’t look towards Carmen at first, she was standing still as a mannequin off to one side of the imposing four poster bed, partially obscured by the diaphanous drapes hanging from the polished cedar frame. Instead, the vaguely familiar youth was entirely focused on Ms Makarova.

As well he might be, the Mistress of the house was sooo~ beautiful.

“I don’t think you’ve let me into your bedroom before, Alina.” He was tall and tugged the Russian goddess back into his arms, making her squeal like a star-struck teen. “Are you sure this wasn’t some clever deception to lure me into your boudoir and take advantage of my innocence?”

“Deceive you, Darling? I would never!” Ms Makarova teased back coyly, toying with his shirt buttons. “How could I possibly hope to trap a mighty Lion such as you? I would only end up savaged and defeated…”

Carmen gnawed at her plump bottom lip, the way the older woman burdened each breathy word with licentious promise had the Latina maid urgently clenching her fat thighs together as she watched the two lovebirds canoodle. The action caused her inner walls to bear down on the vibrating length inside of herself and dragged a soft whimper from her throat.

“Damn it, Alina, when you speak like–wait, did you hear something?”

The vivacious blonde sighed, clearly sensing the moment was lost. “Yes, Darling. I promised to show you something before you ensnared this helpless widow with your manly charms. Please excuse, the new girl is still learning…”

Ms Makarova looped her arm into his elbow and guided him to one side of the bed to reveal Carmen shuddering silently and trying not to lean against the bedpost for support. Dios but simply basking in the radiant angel's presence was edging her quickly towards another micro-climax and that was before she took the full measure of the man she was with…

He rugged with a rangy build of avid outdoors-man, broad of shoulder with signs of lean, whipcord muscles outlined beneath the slim cut of his collared dress shirt. His tawny hair was long and full-bodied, settling naturally around his stubbled chin and down his neck like… like…

Like a mane? Why did that word leap to the forefront of her bliss-addled brain?

Haunting hazel eyes wandered over Carmen, as though detailing every exposed inch of her and committing them to memory before he frowned in consternation and turned back to the Mistress. She had snuggled her gorgeous self happily under his strapping arm.

“Alina, what’s going on… who is this?”

That voice, Carmen knew that voice from somewhere, only it hadn’t been so deep or confident last she heard it. Then the oversized toy buried deep within her sodden folds pulsed again and any attempt at concentration or recollection popped like iridescent soap bubbles on a euphoric gale wind.

“Our new help, my Lion.” Ms Makarova giggled, planting excited kisses on his chiseled jawline and pawing at his defined pecs. “Do you not recognize her? Think back to the soccer match.”

Carmen felt heat suffuse her cheeks and spread down the expansive slopes of her full, tanned cleavage as the Mistress’s gentleman friend scrutinized her again. She didn’t want anyone to remember that awful showing, the humiliation of it welled up deep within her fluttering belly and was unexpectedly met with another powerfully stirring emotion…

Searing hot, cunt gushing arousal.

“No way… Carmen?!”

“Hmmmph~!”

She hadn’t meant to cum–really she hadn’t–but when the handsome specimen of manhood named her in connection to her shameful display earlier that day, a hither-untapped source of erotic exhilaration burst like a dam within Carmen. More of her pungent girly nectar ran down her wobbling thighs, leaving her beet-faced and panting.

It was an awakening experience and left her wanting for more. Needing more as the crashing wash of ecstasy far outstripped the previously arduous and conditional climaxes she had labored so hard to earn in the past. The meager, amateur orgasms she had eked out through vicious acts of cruelty and **** suddenly seemed dull and mundane in comparison.

Why had she devoted all that time and effort to scornful pettiness when a far more ready source of toe-curling, mind-melting pleasure was so readily on tap?

“Jeezus, did she just…what happened to her? She looks so–”

“Soft, Darling?” Ms Makarova crooned, reaching down to stroke her lover’s prominent bulge through the dark fabric of his slacks. The crisp front creases on the trouser legs seemed to point like arrows up to the tremendous mass tenting the crotch. “Poor Carmen was terribly hard and brittle before. Unsightly and unpleasant to be around. I am teaching her that there is wondrous fulfillment in a more yielding manner of womanliness. I have helped her actualize the woman she should be. Made it her reality.”

She had at that. Carmen’s short term memory was a mash-up of blinding flashes filled with the Mistress’s soothing accented voice, whispering inspiration and suggestions, all punctuated by body-rocking orgasms after each delicious instruction.

“Womanliness? Alina, she looks completely different!” His voice, though strained with palpable longing, still tickled a distant spark of recognition for Carmen. “Those skirts barely reach an inch past her crotch and that lace choker around her neck… she’s dressed like a sex object, not a woman.”

“Are you saying that a woman may not appear desirable without becoming a cheap plaything for unprincipled men? Forgive me but this way of thinking sounds backwards and topsy-turvy, my Lion.” The blonde goddess breathed in her sweetheart's ear, her small hand dexterously pulling down his zipper and slipping inside. “Can we not celebrate our bodies without fear of harsh judgment? You have complimented my manner of dress many times today and I declare that I am not this sexy object you speak of.”

Sex object?

Carmen wouldn’t mind a little objectification if it was followed by a significant amount of sex. Hot, sweaty, rough… any kind of sex really. Her body was like a lightning rod in a category five storm, sparking in the static charged atmosphere and waiting for the thunderbolt that would finally zap her back to earth.

“You are sexy but no object, my Lioness but that doesn’t explain what she is doing here or why she looks like that.”

“She is here to help, Darling.” Ms Makarova soothed in her musical voice, skillfully pulling free her young paramour’s hardening length and giving it a few leisurely pumps as she whispered in his ear. “She needs guidance and I will want for company when you are inevitably occupied with more pressing manly concerns than my silly self. She will be, how you say… my little kitten.”

“The Carmen I know is hardly a kitten. She’s more akin to a viper.”

He was looking at Carmen as he spoke and was beginning to sound angry. Dios but his eyes shone like cool burnished bronze stinging her perspiring flesh wherever they wandered over her barely-clothed figure. His cock looked furious and veiny as it thickened under the Mistress’s loving attention and began to rival the hedonistic marital aid thrumming inside her squeezing slit in his erectile dimensions.

She wanted to drop to her knees and beg for the smallest taste of that masculine magnificence, to drink of its musky magnitude but waited obediently on the Mistress’s bidding with baited, thirsty breath.

“She is no longer the stupid, hurtful girl you once knew. This thing is clear, yes?” Ms Makarova husked between raining adoring kisses on his temple and cheeks, her hand never slowing in its sinful ministrations. “She is simply ‘Kitten’ now, my cute little maid to be trained and instructed in the correct ways of womanliness.”

“The ways of womanhood?” He growled and one of his large hands was latched onto the busty angel’s ass, kneading the firm flesh through the pencil skirt hungrily. “You keep saying that word…”

A dense bead of white was forming at the enraged tip of the massive thrusting member, filling Carmen’s vision.

It swelled to the size of a quail egg before slowly drooping to the hardwood floor only a scant foot from her high heels with a heavy splatter. The pungent odor of it caused her nostrils and pupils to dilate as a line of wet spittle ran from the side of her plush lips to drip into the deep cleft of her tanned cleavage.

“Womanliness means perfect womanhood, as manliness implies perfect manhood. Like you darling, yes?” The Mistress purred, gazing at her frowning lover intently with her blazing emerald eyes. “Womanliness is the character of a woman as she ought to be, as she was meant to be. I am assisting Kitten in becoming what she was always meant to be.”

“I am hearing a lot from you, Alina and nothing at all from her.” He grunted, surprisingly cogent as the mature beauty coaxed another short spurt of precum from his jutting length.

That eruption landed closer to Carmen's feet and speckled the white bows covering her toes with the backsplash. She trembled as another small climax strummed through her curvaceous body at sight of the hot seed soiling the pristine ribbon. The monstrous mechanical tool plugging her gushing depths felt horribly inadequate with the real thing so tantalizingly close, yet completely out of reach.

“You doubt your Lioness?” Ms Makarova huffed and looked away, though her luxuriously stroking hand only increased in pace. “I am hurt but mayhaps a demonstration is in order. Kitten, kneel and tell Levi what you told me.”

Levi?!

The name brought up vague memories of a pale, scrawny, stoop-shouldered wimp and suddenly the identity of the voice clicked into place.

That was Levi? It couldn’t be… Levi was a short, sackless gilipollas but the man passionately kissing and groping the Mistress was a uber-hung stud with the tall, lean physique of a star track and field athlete.

“L–Levi? No… No, you aren’t… you can’t be–” Carmen gasped, dropping to her knees regardless of the shocking revelation.

“He cannot be what?” Ms Makarova snapped, glaring imperiously down at Carmen. “He cannot be your whipping boy? Your footstool? This is precisely the sort of wrongheadedness that has driven your bad behavior until today, girl.”

She reeled under the older woman’s tongue lashing. Her burning shame only added to the molten miasma spiking in her overstuffed loins. All the while Levi’s huge, meaty dick was pointing at her like a loaded weapon. Only inches away the purple crown glistened wetly as the Mistress jacked it in her delicate hands.

When Carmen’s lips next parted, she wasn’t certain if it was to speak or prepare to catch his hot, sticky load on her tingling tongue.

“Yeth, I mean… nooo~, Misthreth.” She slurred through the ocean of hot saliva flooding her mouth. “Thorry Misthreth.”

“I do not want your sorry, Kitten.” Ms Makarova harrumphed, turning back to gaze worshipfully up at Levi and nuzzle her stunning face into his broad shoulder. Her working hand never leaving his adamantine length. “It was not me that you turned your misplaced ire upon.”

Carmen swallowed thickly. It didn’t help. Her nose twitched and drool cascaded down her chin in great streamers as her vision was dominated by the pumped and primed manflesh before her. It might be hers to taste if she could show some humility. If she could only be a little… softer.

“I don’t think I like this Alina.” Levi began, shaking his head as though attempting to break free of a fever dream. “A leopard can’t change it’s spots and she–”

Carmen suddenly lurched forward, her pretty little mouth opened wide.

"Glomph!"

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