============================================================================ The Bag Lady And The Domme Chapter 4 - Jessica discovers the truth about hubby ============================================================================
I had needed to think hard about the ramifications of all that had happened in the past week. This had not been the vacation I had expected, far from it. To help me reflect I had put Clarissa in the spare guest suite, away from me for a whole 24 hours. It had been so difficult, just seeing her for short periods of time, her lithe naked body padding across the landing or bathed in a silk robe as she helped herself to food. I did not even dine with her, so important was it to me that I have my thinking time. However, nothing could stop the insatiable itch' that needing scratching. I knew I could not go back, only forward. I was an insatiably sexually demanding and dominant female. It had been expressed via my work, and perhaps in my early marriage, but I needed more; much more. I needed Clarissa to love and adore me, I wanted to explore the secret world of The Group and to be, as they had made explicit in a letter that had arrived, a member of their executive'
with full privileges. I had trawled the secure internet site that featured The Group, its constitution and its practices. Some of them I knew were not for me, but I was constantly drawn to the features on bi-sexual play and not just of the women, but the men at play too. I thought of Johnnie and my fantasy, which had become a recurring dream whenever I dozed off. This had been often in the past hours, as a type of exhaustion seemed to have overtaken me until that point where the decision was made. "Hello!" came the disconnected voice from below. "Mrs. Harmondon-Smithers? " I recognized the thick Czech accent of my maid. She was back! Well, I smiled to myself; she was in for a treat. I dashed to Clarissa's room, pushing open the door to be greeted by an amazing sight. My lover, my submissive, my best friend was up on all fours, her arse facing me and her fingers plunging in and out of her sopping wet pussy. I had no time for this. "Get up you slut! Anya is here. I want you in the kitchen in 10 minutes sharp. You are to come down the stairs, naked. I hope you have shaved your pussy as I want you to come sit on one of the bar stools with your legs open, like the slut you are. Got it?" I could see she had been interrupted right at the height of her pleasure. I laughed, then scowled, as she failed to answer me. "Got it?" I snapped, using an imperious tone. "Yes, er, yes Mistress," she replied, her voice weak and quavering. Good,' I thought, that will make her more hungry for what I have planned.' "10 minutes, no more, no less." I walked fast, almost ran, back to my room and reached for the silk robe I had placed out for myself that morning. I was suddenly aware of my breasts swinging freely, the cool on my shaven pussy and the delightful feeling of being totally naked on this wonderful warm day in England. No, I was the mistress of the house, why did I need to dress in front of my staff? I walked silently down the gently curving spiral staircase, a massive feature of this multi-million pound house to make a grand entrance into the hall. Anya was at the bottom of the stairs, bent over looking into her bags. I could never fathom why she needed so many suitcases when she went home to her village near Prague. However, that was the least of my thoughts as I was currently being presented with long slim legs, so straight and well muscled. They were topped by diaphanous white panties encasing the most beautiful bottom. Her dark blue skirt was so short it had failed miserably to hide the lovely peachy bum cheeks of a classically beautiful Czech woman. "Nice view!" I said, instantly feeling wetness seep between my engorging labia. I knew I was excited, not least by the sensuality of being naked, but even more so knowing this woman lusted after me and was now going to get turned on by me, her employer and ergo, her naked Mistress. She snatched at the hem of her skirt, suddenly aware like a schoolgirl still not confident with her sexuality that it was too short and tried to pull it down as she stood and turned towards me. She was rooted there, mouth open, her right hand subconsciously straying to brush at her breast, her left to hover over her pussy area. I smiled, keeping direct contact with her wide open eyes. So beautiful, I realised. Her nipples were hardening behind the bright yellow T-shirt she wore and her tongue was gently wetting her full lips. I watched those sexy eyes scan my nudity, taking in my large breasts, my motherly hips and the blatant sexuality of my shaven pussy. She was banqueting on my beauty, something I had at last admitted to myself. I was not only beautiful, but powerful too, and I was going to seize all the advantages to be taken from those facts. "Come, come greet your Mistress," I invited warmly, holding open my arms as I advanced towards her, giving her no time to back away or evade my clutches. I pressed myself to her, giving her a kiss on the lips that was totally unambiguous and feeling our large breasts press hard against each other. But then I broke away. "Come to the kitchen, let's hear about your visit home and your journey," I continued, giving her absolutely no choice that she was coming to sit down. I held her hand, which she gripped extremely tightly I noticed, and led her to sit at the big oak table in the kitchen. I fussed about getting the tea and some croissants organized, ensuring that she was able to watch me at all times. I knew my pussy was glistening and my teats were rock hard with arousal. I'm sure the air was thick with the smell of my pussy and if I was not mistaken her bouquet was beginning to meld with mine. She was silent, unable to speak. "I hope you don't mind my nakedness?" I asked, standing right in front of her as I played with my nipples in a gesture designed to draw her eyes to my engorged tits. I didn't wait for an answer, but urged her on. "So what have you got up to in the past few weeks?" "I-I-I just saw my folks for the first few days," she faltered, her eyes never leaving my breasts now as I continued to play with the nipples, teasing her. "Then I went to stay with Ludmilla, the au pair who works with the Columbines at number 12?" "Ah yes, the one with the extremely perky breasts? Always wears a tight T-shirt and no knickers under her extremely short skirts? Is that the one?" I enquired in as matter-of-fact way as I could muster, while internally even more turned on as I thought about that sexy girl. "Er, I don't know about..." I put a finger to my lips, gesturing her to be silent, and then spoke. "It' s alright; you are with me now. I've noticed her many times and a friend saw her finger-fucking someone in the bushes by the Lido. I do not approve of that behavior," I said sternly, then continued. "Leaving children unattended whilst she fucks is just not on. Surely one of you could have minded for her, or were you fucking too?" She was silent, head slightly bowed though her eyes still were fixed on my tits. "I'll take that as a yes?" "Yes, ah, no...it depends..." "It depends on what precisely?" I asked, sensing blood as I put on my most dominant voice. I waited out the silence. "It depends on whether it was Gerta. She was my Swedish lover but she left for Gothenburg 6 months ago and besides..." She trailed off, as if she could not bring herself to say the next bit. I stirred her tea, knowing she liked two sugars, and waited for her reply. I was not going to speak first. She burst into tears, just at the moment that Clarissa entered the room, naked and looking so beautiful with the sun streaming in from the garden onto
her stunning model's body. God those tits with their big rings piercing the teats, wow! I gestured her to sit on one of the bar stools that meant she was raised above my maid and only a few feet away. She knew exactly what to do, keeping her knees well apart. She put her feet on the lower rest, just like a guitar player, although with her posture it would have been a cello that fitted better. Anya had not noticed her, the tears were streaming from her eyes. I stood beside her, bending to clutch her head to my bosom and gave her soft words of encouragement; willing her to get the deep hurts and sadness out of her. "There, there, hold me tightly...Besides what?" I coaxed, urging her to say more, while I pressed my hot breasts closer to her. She sniffled, "I fell in love with another woman...it just happened...but she did not want me...er...did not know I loved her and it just got tense with Gerta. She knew something was going on." I let my hand stroke her back, with every stroke circling lower and lower, until I was touching the small of her spine and the tops of that firm arse. Meanwhile my breasts were thrust into her face, the nipple of my left breast almost offered to her soft pouting lips. I felt the dribble of my juice down my inner thigh. Yes, I could smell her bouquet, pungent in the air as it mixed less subtly now with mine. She was aroused and yet sad, such a submissive quality. Ok, let's go for it. "It was me you fell in love with, wasn't it?" I asked gently. I heard her gasp, her heart almost stopping I guessed. I also heard Clarissa sigh, not with resignation but something else I sensed. More silence, as my hand continued its caress and my naked breasts wanted her to suckle on me like a mother soothing her newborn. "Yes!" she exclaimed, as if a great weight had just been lifted from her heart, and her arms encircled my nakedness, just as a child might when running to mummy for safety. And in my impulsive, motherly state, I grasped my breast; pushing the teat into her mouth, urging her to suck as pulses like little electric shocks radiated out from that tit and then converged to focus on my clitoris which was no longer hidden. I let my hands roam freely over her as she suckled, sliding to her front and grasping her ample right tit in my hand. I liked its firmness the achingly hard nipple that was clearly pierced with a small ring of some description. All this as she continued to suck on me as if she could draw milk. If only she could,' I thought, but then I was distracted by another idea, I need to take firm control'. It took a lot of willpower, believe me. I broke away, prying her mouth from my teat, leaving a string of saliva that eventually broke as I moved. My wet nipple was so engorged there was no way I could hide my pleasure, but I had other things to accomplish. I stood up, unblocking the view of Clarissa who like the faithful slut she was had her legs wide apart to show her perfectly shaven pussy, its lips engorged and her clitoris unmistakably outside its little folds with the gold bar stretching the bloated head. The jewelry at her labia glistened in the sun. Beautiful,' I caught myself thinking, again. Anya stared past me, shocked. Then I saw that familiar glint in her eye that I now knew to be lust. She was a slut! One minute I was her total source of love and devotion and then along comes another honey pot to dip into. I laughed, smiling madly at them both. "Anya, meet Clarissa," I announced. "She is my submissive little slut and if you accept my proposition you will happily share our life with her. She is staying here and will be treated as my guest but also shared as a plaything." Anya stood, Clarissa maintained her position. How obedient I realised Clarissa was, so well trained. The Czech extended her hand to greet my subbie, but I was not allowing such a formal greeting. "Clarissa, give Anya a hug and greet her in the way I want you to greet each other." I saw a slight frown on Clarissa's brow, as if unsure, but then her eyebrows raised and it dawned on her. She knew exactly what to do. She was like the Venus Fly Trap. As Anya approached, getting closer between her still open legs, she grasped the outstretched hand, smiling. Then her legs closed around my maid and she pulled her firmly to her, planting at the same time a hard, erotic kiss on her lips that Anya was unlikely to forget. Believe me, that model's kisses are unbelievably sensual and erotic. And she kept her there in that embrace, her hands sliding over the young woman's body, and ending up grasping her arse cheeks as she said, "Welcome to Mistress's perfect world. We are both her slaves, to do with as she likes, yes?" "I - I - don't..." "She has not heard my conditions yet, Clarissa," I interjected, my tone slightly scolding. I continued, noticing that my subbie was still holding her in that tight embrace, her fingers slipping quietly under the white diaphanous drawers to touch somewhere now wet with her juice and Anya was accepting it; moving into her, and opening her legs to give greater access. "Stop kissing her, slut," I snapped, not addressing it to one of them in particular as they both could hold that title. They stopped, with my maid turning her head awkwardly to pay attention to me. I continued. "Anya, I know you have wanted me for some time and I did not notice. However, if you do want me there are conditions as to how you can achieve that. There will be rules, as follows: One, you are to go naked around the house except when the children are home but in front of my husband when he is here. Two, you are to be smoothly shaven on and around your cunt at all times. Three you are to be available as a slave to others (male and female) as I command. Four, you will accept that you will not work here for free but will take your regular salary plus 10%. The fifth condition is that you undertake to maintain absolute secrecy but also will scout for new recruits, especially from those gorgeous nannies you work with. Do you accept the terms?" Anya broke away from Clarissa, turning fully to face me. I had not expected what happened next, but silently she took the hem of her T-shirt in her hands and lifted it over her head. I watched as her ample breasts, now released from their binding, bounced like jelly moulds so wonderfully in front of me, then settled. So firm, so pert with pierced nipples adorned with little rings of gold. I sighed with desire, even more so as the teats were huge and erect. I had not realised this from just feeling them, but they were wide and now extremely long. Perfect. Then the skirt was unzipped and the tiny hook untied. She let it drop to the floor and stood there in just the white panties which, given their diaphanous material, had no function other than aesthetics. Her pussy was jet black and sprouting around the knickers. It hid her sex. I did not like that. I had noticed too as she raised her arms how the hair bushed copiously in her armpits. However, on this score I was changing my mind. "Anya, you are to keep your underarm hair, but that bush is shameful! However, I add a sixth condition. In summer you will wear sleeveless tops so that your armpits are on show," I said, smirking to myself as I knew as a woman how that would be an embarrassment to her, but a turn-on for many men and I had to admit, one for me too. Johnnie loved to see me bushy and for so long I had followed the fad for shaving it off ignoring his wishes. Maybe, I thought, I might strike out for women and revert to no shaving. Though my pussy was another matter, I liked it depilated. "Now, take off those panties; a rule about which makes the magical seventh condition." She slipped the panties down her firm young thighs. I caught a glimpse of Clarissa licking her lips as she looked at our maid from behind. Our eyes met and she smiled. I laughed, which Anya took to be us mocking her bush. I watched her lower her eyes, accepting her subservience and with not a little embarrassment for being so untidy down there. I thought it was time to complete my dominance. "Anya, the seventh rule is you will not wear panties ever again in this house nor will you dress in trousers or shorts. The exception will be that you have discretion when it is your periods, but you know as well as I that good feminine hygiene means those things," and I emphasized my new-found disdain for them, "are unnecessary and to be banned. Do you agree to these conditions, because in exchange you will have my adoration and access to so much sexual fun. You will want for nothing if you serve me well." "Mistress," she said excitedly, her accent sounding thicker as the emotions took over from reason, "I have wanted nothing less than this. I have admired you, loved you, every day I have worked here. I have so wanted you to possess me, to make me a true servant to you. I - I - found some books of your husband's about slavery and BDSM and have been obsessed with this. I..." "Anya?" I was astonished about what she had just said. "Repeat what you have just said about Mr. Smithers, er Johnnie, the Master..." I honestly did not know what to call him now, though the latter title did somehow fit if I could only get him to join our lifestyle. I was confused. "Please do not be angry with me," she pleaded, dropping to her knees on the tiled kitchen floor in supplication. "I was cleaning in your bedroom and found a, how do you say, bolt? It is in the lower part of the paneling beside the bed on Mr. Smithers's side and seemed loose, so I tried to tighten it with a wrench. When I did this, the right hand panel sprung open and behind there is a cupboard filled with sex toys, clothing for BDSM, books and...it is an Aladdin's Cave! There is another of these on your side but it is empty. I guess it is where the previous owner hid his real tax accounts from the Revenue or something. A neighbor told me that the house had been owned by a real rogue who was jailed eventually for tax evasion." I felt angry, cheated. My Johnnie who had played the innocent and been the boring no-sex-I'm-British husband had a secret compartment with secret desires and God knows how many other secrets hidden from me. I picked Anya up by her short jet black hair, forgetting my responsibilities as mistress. I was angry and, to my shame, taking it out on her. She screamed as I lifted her up with incredible force from the floor. "Mistress!" Clarissa screamed, running over, grasping my hand and with all her strength prying my fingers apart. "Please, she is innocent. She has been honest with you." I was crying, with Anya and Clarissa both hugging me and crying too. We looked like Antonio Canova's The Three Graces, our naked bodies pressed close together in love and comfort for each other. I felt so sad, so angry, so confused. What had Johnnie, whom I knew I still loved but now did not trust, been doing? "Right," I said, breaking the embrace, "Come with me." I strode out of the kitchen turned immediately up the wide spiral, with Clarissa and Anya in hot pursuit. They must have had an eyeful as I climbed two steps at a time, intent on getting into that compartment and finding what else he had been up to. I was sweating with anxiety and mixed emotions that started to give way to a perverted thought; but enough of that for now. I stood back and watched as Anya knelt on the floor, her naked arse high in the air and legs more apart than perhaps was necessary (was she deliberately enticing me?); showing me a hairy mass with lips struggling to be seen inside the forest and an anal rose crowned with thick pubic hair.Yes,' I thought, that pussy hair has to go.' I could have spanked her, the view was just so enticing but I needed to see what was in that cupboard. The latch sprang as Anya wielded her wrench and automatically light streamed in from the store. Anya stood back, slightly, but not enough as I pushed past her hot naked breasts, almost knocking her over in my urgency to see what my husband's secrets were. I was aware of nothing other than my task; to find out about this new side to my husband. Manically I was pulling things out of the cupboard and placing them less than gently on the bed. Clarissa took my hand, slowing me down as she kissed my neck and whispered, "Mistress, please, there must be an explanation..." "Too fucking right there is! He would do none of this with me and yet look at the book cover. It's a man fucking another man, and there, two women fucking with one man, and here, a woman being spanked hard by that huge cocked man! Didn't he think I would have enjoyed doing..." I stopped. Of course, he was a shy man and I was so strong with my opinions. He probably thought he couldn't ask me or tell me his fantasies. Maybe I was right too about anal, that he had protested too much'. But was it because I gave an impression of being less and less interested in sex and more in business? I was now less sure that he was a sneaking rat who kept dark secrets from me. Then it dawned on me. I took Clarissa by the hand, looking
straight into her eyes. "Clarissa, you told me you watched me for weeks before making contact. Did you follow me or Johnnie?" "No Mistress, I didn't follow you, much." I sensed her hand tense. Had I asked the wrong question? Or was she being evasive? "Clarissa, when you say didn't follow you' is the you' plural or a reference to me?" I asked, being gentle but firm and keeping my eyes gazing at hers. She lowered her lids and I saw the blush of her skin. How pretty she looked, naked and blushing over her entire body. "Clarissa, I want you to be completely honest with me." "It's a reference to you only Mistress, Master Jonathan was followed by me on twelve occasions on the instructions of The Group." She said, glancing at Anya as she realised she had said more than she should. She continued, softly. "He, er, he would go down the road to Mr. and Mrs. Columbine's and be there for the whole day. It was always when the Au Pair had her day off and the children were at their grandparents. He would tell you that he was flying to Edinburgh for the day. Still does use that excuse I would guess." "Anya?" I looked steely eyed at her, to see if she knew anything from her friend Ludmilla, their au pair. She lowered her head. "Ludmilla saw them once..." "Saw them?" I snapped, interrupting her. "Yes Mistress, she came home early from her day off and had crept quietly into the house. She saw them in the lounge. There was a man, naked but for a
leather mask and a mouth brace keeping his jaws open. He had a whip in his hand. His cock was hard and thick she said. Ludmilla stayed hidden in the shadows of the conservatory that links her quarters with the house. Mrs. Columbine was being fucked in the arse by another man whom she could not at first recognize but was about the build of Mr. Columbine. He was strong, quite hairy and had a mask on, plus another mouth brace. Then as they built up rhythm bent over the edge of their black leather sofa, so the second man came up behind the one arse-fucking Ludmilla's Mistress and slowly began to enter him, until the two were thrusting in unison into Mrs. Columbine. She was screaming with pleasure and there were grunts and groans coming from the men. So aroused had she become with what she was watching that Ludmilla had inadvertently stepped closer into the light. Before she knew it her eyes had locked with her Mistress's..." She was panting slightly and had tailed off; unsure if ok to go on yet aroused too by what she was telling me. Anya's hand had drifted to her cunt. I could tell there was more to know about this, but where was the proof Johnnie was one of the men? "Continue, slut!" "..Yes Mistress, well Mrs. Columbine did not stop the fucking but called her over. The man on the back beckoned too. Ludmilla hesitated but told me the scene was so hot – and she is such a sexy bitch – that she felt `obliged ' to join them. I laughed at this, because she tried to tell me she was afraid she would lose her job. No chance! She had them by, er, how you say, the er short and er curlies? No? Anyhow, she stripped off her clothes and the man at the back offered his cock to her that had just been in the middle man's arse hole. The little slut dropped to her knees and took him straight into her mouth," Anya said, with a hint of lust in her voice. "He fucked her mouth while Mrs. Columbine and her man continued their arse fuck. Ludmilla said he was a big man and it really stretched her mouth..." I listened silently, now sitting on the bed with Ludmilla in front of me and Clarissa rubbing my neck and shoulders with the most sensual massage. Somehow, even if this was my husband – and so far only the thick cock fitted with any description of him – her ministrations were making my anger melt away. In fact, to the contrary, I was getting turned on. "...Ludmilla glanced up as her mouth was fucked but had no clue as to who it was because all she could see was a leather clad face and an wide open mouth that looked more like one of those awful blow up dolls. However, there was cum and spittle dribbling from his chin which she found incredibly sexy she told me. Most of all, she noticed his eyes were a beautiful blue..." Another clue! Johnnie has piercing blue eyes. I was getting more excited; even more so now that Clarissa's hands had strayed to my breasts and were lightly massaging my nipples to an incredible state of hardness and her mouth was kissing lightly at my neck. But also, had my Johnnie been arse fucking another man? The fantasy he had been unwilling to share with me? "As Mrs. Columbine came over the sofa edge and the man in her arse came too, Ludmilla's masked mouth-fucker spurted deep into her throat. Much to my friend's chagrin, it was very little, which suggested that this fuck was near the end of a lengthy period of cumming. However, she had no sooner sucked him than Mrs. Columbine called her to kiss her. The other man slowly extracted himself from her arse and Ludmilla could see the wide open rose, which she admitted she was desperate to lick out..." "You mean rim?" I interjected, using my newly found language. "...Yes, to rim him. She had surprised herself how anally obsessed she had quickly become, but her employer wanted her to kiss her and she guessed she knew why. She sat up and hugged Ludmilla, her heavy breasts meeting the pert young titties of my friend which are nice size but not like Mrs. Columbine's. They kissed hard, she told me, with her Mistress delving into her mouth with her long pointy tongue, clearly enjoying the taste of sperm, arse and cock that coated Ludmilla's mouth and lips. It was not long before the two men had recovered and were surrounding them, but the woman made them kneel. Then, Mrs. Columbine ordered them both to remove their mouth braces and lick the two women's bodies as they embraced and Mrs. C put her hands on Ludmilla's pussy that was by now sopping wet. Her smell hung in the air, mixing with the incredibly strong scents of sex that had clearly built up from a mammoth session. Soon Ludmilla had a strong tongue lapping at her little red rose and strong manly hands were stroking and loving her incredibly aroused breasts. The orgasm that she had she says was so strong and it was – incredibly - her first taste of lesbian loving. It turned her to bisexuality and she has had sex many times since with women, and every day with Mrs. C since that night and with her husband. The other man came only on her days off and she saw his face only twice. It was your Johnnie...it was Mr. Smithers...he was the one with the thick cock that filled Ludmilla's mouth and who licked her anus that night. He fucked her always when wearing the mask. He was buggered by Mr. C. every time and would always complete that ritual with a whipping of his host, as if to punish him for making him do something taboo. However, he would then be fucked in the mouth by him and return the favor by doing it back, always while Mrs. C masturbated using her fingers or an oversized dildo or vibrator..." I was panting, aroused incredibly by the story and the realization my husband did love sex, but even more so by Clarissa whose hand was now between my thighs which were open and displayed to Anya. My clitoris was on fire, hungry for her touch, but I was also enjoying being an exhibitionist; making Anya stare at my excited pussy lips. I had heard enough. I gestured for her to come eat my pussy. She was there like a shot, her long tongue lapping at my lips, dueling with Clarissa's fingers that were exciting my clitoris and delving into my hole. I caressed my breasts reveling in their sensitivity and teasing the long nipples that were so hard and gorgeous. I fantasized about having Johnnie rub his cock between them, spurting his cum all over them; doing things he had never done with me. And as I succumbed to my lustful imaginings so my orgasm built and built to a massive crescendo. When I came, I screamed into the air. It was so loud. I had gone from anger to intense pleasure and I realised in the erotic fog that was my brain at that time I would confront Johnnie but in a way that brought him on side, not alienated him. I wanted that cock to be mine again in a deep, loving and sexual way. Most of all I wanted those perverted games to be played with me as an actor. Not least I wanted to have Mrs. Columbine too. I'd known her for a long time, admiring her Amazonian body, with its massive breasts, firm arse and long, long legs. If Clarissa had not come into my life, I doubt I would have thought it was more than the typical curiosity of one woman about another's body, which is why there are more nude bodies of women in women's magazines than there are in men's. Now I realised that fascination was more than just inquisitiveness. Maybe she had been sending me signals that I had been unaware of, or vice versa? Then, as another orgasmic wave flowed over me, I passed out. When I came to, all the toys and articles had been put on a trolley by Anya and Clarissa. They had tucked me up in bed and were kneeling patiently at its base. I had no idea of the time or how long they had been there, but I loved them for their devotion and my incredible sense of power. I sat up, shuffling to the side of the bed to look at the items in a less emotional way than I had done before. I started with the books....
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