Chapter 7
In New York, there was really no reason that Marjorie could offer that would fully satisfy her young husband. As a lawyer, he had learned not to believe everything he was told. Whatever Marjorie could tell him now would be hard to swallow. After all, he had caught her disciplining the black maid with a hairbrush.
"It's her first day and I wanted to set her straight from the beginning," Marjorie said when Corbett questioned her.
"But why is she wearing that corset and those high heels?”
It seemed an odd outfit to work in, despite the fact that it stirred up quite a bit of emotion in Corbett. The clean-cut lawyer felt funny in the pit of his stomach, and his face was flushed red with sweat breaking out at his hairline.
"This is the outfit I want my maid to wear," she said.
"And you agreed to it?" Corbett asked the maid.
This put Ms. Betty in a strange position. She didn't know if Mr. Lloyd would be taking charge and running things straight, or if she would later be turned over to Marjorie when Corbett was away, causing her to receive a bruising for betrayal.
"Yes, I agreed, knowing that I wouldn't be doing any heavy work. I'm to serve Ms. Marjorie, doing things like polishing her toenails and fetching her tea.”
It was a reasonable explanation. It was quick thinking on the part of an ex-madam in a house of prostitution.
"Well, then that means we'll still need another maid to do the cleaning and the heavy work.”
"Yes, that's right," Marjorie said, sticking with the story and seeing that she might be able to work it out to her own advantage after all.
Corbett took a deep breath.
"I don't know if we can afford two maids for this small apartment.”
"The apartment isn't small," Marjorie said. "I need two maids. We can afford it. You said that you wanted to give me everything I deserve.”
There was a moment of silence after that remark.
"We'll have to think this thing over," Corbett finally said. "But I don't think that you should take to disciplining your household help with a brush. The days of slave horrors are over," he added.
"Your wife is not aware of that," Ms. Betty said.
Marjorie was pissed. She made a mental note that Ms. Betty would have to punished later for that remark. But when she looked into Ms. Betty's eyes, she saw that she wouldn't dare do that. Ms. Betty, spurred on by Corbett Lloyd's remark about slavery, was ready to break her chains.
"We'll see if slavery is dead or not," Marjorie whispered when Corbett went into another room to make some telephone calls.
"Yes, we will, won't we?" Ms. Betty shot back, making it quite clear that she intended to fight fire with fire. "Strip your breasts bare," Ms. Betty commanded.
Now it was Marjorie who was stunned.
"I said strip those tits bare. Let's see what you've got there. If you don't hurry up and do what I say," Ms. Betty threatened, "I'll show your husband what you've been hiding in those-special closets and drawers of yours. Then he'll really understand what you were doing when he caught you spanking me. And he'll understand why you've taken so much time in finding the right maid.”
Wanting to strip and get it over with before Corbett returned to the room, Marjorie did as she was told. This was the first time she had ever really been on the receiving end in such a relationship of dominance and submission. She was receiving the dominance.
Being on the other end caused her cunt to tingle. She didn't know quite what to do or how to take it, despite the fact that she had dished it out before.
Even her palms were damp with perspiration as she nervously undid herself, exposing her milk white breasts. They bounced as she bared herself.
She wanted to hide her firm nipples with her hands, but Ms. Betty ordered her to drop her arms and place them behind her.
She followed the command.
"Fresh from my black tits to yours," Ms. Betty said, as she removed the bra which had been fastened around her and placed it on Marjorie's flawless globes.
Marjorie tried to squirm away, but Ms. Betty was firm.
"The more you struggle, the deeper the pins are going to go into you," Ms. Betty told her.
Marjorie had of course tried out the bra with the pins on the inside of the cups, but she had tried it out for a minute or two, and she hadn't tied it tightly on herself. She had run her fingers over the pins, to feel how sharp they were, and she had decided that they hurt enough, without causing any real damage.
But now that the bra was on her breasts for real, she wasn't so sure about that. The discipline bra was fastened tightly on her.
"If you rat on me, I'll rat on you," Ms. Betty said, shaking Marjorie's body as she forced the words into her. She wanted to let her know that she meant business. She meant every word she said. "I don't have nearly as much to lose in this as you do. And you better believe that I'll make it hot for you. Hotter than hell.”
Marjorie felt the power of domination as it took over her. She felt dry in her throat. She felt weak. Her pussy was feeling it, too. A droplet of nectar dripped from her young cunt down her inner thigh.
She knew that her maid had taken over. She was no longer the mistress of even her own domain. She was a slave in her own house.
Marjorie felt the pins of the bra sticking her luscious breasts with pain. The black maid rubbed her battered behind and told her that she deserved what she'd be getting. "This is only the beginning," Ms. Betty said. "I wanted to see how far you would go before I let you have a taste of real domination.”
"I was only going to put you through your paces today. After today, I was sure that we would have a good working relationship. We'd understand each other better.”
"Bullshit," Ms. Betty hissed through her teeth. "But we understand each other pretty well now. You understand that I'm the boss, don't you?”
Marjorie didn't respond. She stood there, frozen.
This irked Ms. Betty, the Amazonian bitch goddess who expected total submission, especially from a cunt like Marjorie Lloyd. "You rich, spoiled piece of shit," the big black woman snarled.
She grabbed Marjorie by her arm and twisted it back into a painful wrestling hold. The position caused her breasts to go flush against the hidden pins inside the bra. She was in agony, but Ms. Betty merely twisted harder.
While she had the wealthy socialite twisted back in the wrestling hold, she used her teeth on Marjorie's long, blonde hair. She bit into the strands and pulled back, pulling the roots of it.
"Alright, alright," Marjorie moaned, trying to keep her agony quiet so that her husband wouldn't suspect what was going on in his own house. "You win, you win. I'll serve you. You'll be my maid, but I'll serve you.”
"And your husband will pay my salary," Ms. Betty said, emphasizing her intent with more pressure on Marjorie's twisted arm.
"Yes, yes, he'll be paying you to discipline me," she cried.
"Which will be money well earned and money well spent," Ms. Betty said.
Ms. Betty could still feel the heat on her butt. She would feel the stinging for a week, and it would inspire her to new heights in her training of Marjorie.
If there was any doubt of that, Marjorie soon realized that Ms. Betty intended to give it her all. Marjorie had dressed herself, still wearing the bra which was rubbing against her tit nipples. The fact that she was being made a slave in her own home should have been enough of a clue to her about her own submissiveness. She had never been dominated, having always been a rather spoiled princess.
Used to getting her way, this turn of events was having its effect. When the pins rubbed against her, her nipples stood up like little spears.
She was aroused.
Corbett suggested that they sit down and have a chat.
Marjorie agreed, and after properly introducing Ms. Betty to her husband, she politely asked the new maid to get them some tea.
"Very good, madam," Ms. Betty replied, turning around and walking to the kitchen to fix it. In her strange uniform, with the bared pussy and bared ass globes, she was quite a sight. Corbett didn't know whether to look away or look at her.
"I think that the uniform you've picked for a her is a bit, well, a bit extreme," he told his wife gently. He was still of the opinion that Marjorie was troubled mentally. He thought that she simply picked the uniform out of her own ignorance, and he assumed that the maid was too ignorant to say anything about it. After all, any new maid who consents to a spanking with a hairbrush on her first day of work must be a bit off the deep end, too.
"I thought that it would be alright since we're both women, and she seemed comfortable in it," Marjorie said weakly. "But since you're home, I think it would be better if she covered up a bit more.”
She winced, feeling the pins sticking into her nipples as she changed from one position to another on the couch.
"I'm going to be coming home from the office earlier from now on, and I would appreciate it if she covered up. Not that you have anything to be jealous about," Corbett added, forcing his body on top of hers.
"Corbett, please!" Marjorie said. "She'll be out in a minute. She'll see you. She'll think your a beast.”
Really, it was Marjorie who thought that way. What was wrong with showing a little affection in one's own home, even with the maid around?
Corbett didn't stop, though. He was on top of her and she felt his chest against her own, causing the pins to stick right into her.
She was torn between passion and pain. She didn't like Corbett to hug her this way, and the pins were hurting, and yet, the realization that she was being dominated all the time by the black maid who was in the other room was enough to start her cuntal juices flowing.
It was bizarre!
Ms. Betty came out of the kitchen with two tea cups, a silver pot filled with tea, all on a silver tray.
"Tea is served," she said, and Corbett released his wife.
"Thank you Ms. Betty," Corbett said, and Ms. Betty poured tea for each of them. She didn't know that fussy Marjorie would, by force of a longtime habit, complain about the tea. Unless it was piping hot, she would never touch the stuff. This had been simmering off the stove's light. Marjorie liked her tea boiling and bubbling when she drank it.
"I thought you were told to bring some HOT tea!!!" she snapped.
Corbett was embarrassed by his wife's usual snootiness. They had been through this before at restaurants and even in the homes of friends. This particular time, she was more bitter and harsh than usual. Maybe, subconsciously, she was just asking for more of what Ms. Betty could give her.
Corbett, embarrassed though he was, shrunk down in his seat without reprimanding his haughty wife. He didn't realize that the maid could be far haughtier than Marjorie.
"Really?" Ms. Betty said, not batting an eyelash. "Well, I'll take this back to the kitchen and bring you some tea that's piping hot.”
"This is fine for me," Corbett said. "Just bring another cupful for my wife.”
He kept the pot and his cup.
"You really should be more respectful to your hired help," he told her, too gently, perhaps. "That's the sign of a true lady. You should do things with class.”
She didn't answer. She was stewing.
A few minutes later, Ms. Betty returned with a fresh cup for Marjorie.
"Here you are," Ms. Betty said, handing the cup directly to her mistress. Then she shot one of those looks at Marjorie again. It was the evil gleam which made her eyes turn into tiny slits in her black head. They looked like rat's eyes, or the eyes of a snake.
Marjorie recognized that look. It was filled with anger.
"That tea will be hot enough for you," Ms. Betty said. "I expect you drink it all down. Every drop!”
Marjorie placed the cup to her lips. She took the first sip. It was very hot, but it was bitter. It didn't taste like tea at all. It tasted like ...
"Drink it all," Ms. Betty repeated, baring her teeth as she hissed the command. She was still staring through Marjorie with slitty snake eyes.
With the next full swallow, Marjorie realized what had happened. She was drinking hot stuff, alright, but it wasn't tea.
For her snotty attitude, Marjorie had been punished with a discipline drink. It had come directly from Ms. Betty's black tap. It was piss!
The look on Ms. Betty's face told Marjorie that she dare not utter a word. Ms. Betty had her hands on her hips and it was clear that she would tell Corbett everything with the slightest provocation.
"How is it, honey?" Corbett asked her as she gulped the bitter fluid.
"It's fine," she said meekly, still feeling the pins in her breasts, and hoping that the scent of piss wouldn't stay on her breath.
Ms. Betty stayed in the room, at a distance, to be polite, but close enough to make certain that Marjorie followed the command and drank down every last drop of her fresh, hot piss, and swallowed it.
Steaming piss was just one of the many things Ms. Betty had in mind for her slave. She was determined to dominate Marjorie Lloyd in her very own home, turning the tables so that Marjorie would soon be waiting hand and foot on the new lady of the house — the Amazonian maid.
When the telephone later that evening, Marjorie was relieved to hear her mother's voice. She depended upon her mother at times like this, even though she didn't even know how to explain all of this to her.
Her mother insisted on coming directly over from the airport with the present she had brought back for her from Jamaica.
"Can't it wait?" Marjorie asked.
"No, it can't. I have to come over immediately. I've imported a maid for you?”
“Are you kidding?”
"No, she's an alien, of course, so you'll have something over her," Marjorie *s mother whispered into the phone. "She's young, a hard worker, strong, and she's eager to be in this country. I've paid her first month's wages by bringing her over here. Now, all you have to do is break her in. I'll be right over.”
And with that, Marjorie's mother clicked the receiver down.
Marjorie turned to her husband. "Well, it looks like our second maid has arrived.”
"What do you mean? We were going to have a talk about that. I don't know if I can afford to have two maids in this one apartment. I mean, ... ”
"Don't worry about that," Marjorie said. "Mama is paying her wages for the first month. After that, if we don't want her, we'll get rid of her. But I can't insult Mama.”
Ms. Betty listened in on this conversation, hearing Marjorie treat the still unarmed Claudja like an object which should be used, then discarded, as long as Mama weren't insulted.
"Well, if that's what will make you happy," Corbett relented, as usual.
"Oh, it will make me happy," Marjorie said, using her coy tactics to woo her husband's favor, as she often did. Of course, she had no intention of following through with her smiles of seduction.
But Ms. Betty entered the scene, coming up to Corbett and telling them both that she would take care of breaking in the second maid.
"I'll take it as part of my responsibility to show this new girl around and let her know the rules of the house," Ms. Betty said, loading her words with double meanings which coursed right through Marjorie's trembling body.
Marjorie was at the effect of everything Ms. Betty did, and Ms. Betty intended to run this house with an iron hand.
"Well, that would be very nice of you," Corbett said. "I'm sure that Marjorie will appreciate that.”
"I'm sure that once I take over, with the help of this second maid to do the heavier chores around the house, we'll have Mrs. Lloyd in a new frame of mind in no time.”
"You know," Corbett said, responding to the gleam in Ms. Betty's eyes, I think you mean that”
"Oh, I do. I really do.”
"Yes, I can tell that you're a determined woman who does what she says she's going to do.”
"Oh, that I am," Ms. Betty replied. "I'm sure you'll see the results.”
Marjorie was too weak and too humiliated to say anything. Already, this was a change for her, and Corbett noticed the difference. As for Marjorie, this treatment was total humiliation for her. She knew that Ms. Betty was having her fun at her expense. But there was nothing she could do about it.
There was too much to lose if she lost Corbett and that might just happen if he found out about her secrets.
Besides, there was something else preventing Marjorie from telling her husband that he was paying a maid to abuse her. She wasn't quite sure of what it was. All she knew was that she felt it in her cunt.
New York was more than Claudja had expected. The rush of the people was just too much for her. Even at the airport, she nearly flipped out. When she saw people rushing toward her, black people or white, she reacted with such fear that she doubled over several times.
The cab ride to the Lloyd apartment in the fashionable east sixties was nerve-wracking for her, too. She had been a prankster in her small Jamaican town, but the big city was a bit much for her.
Of course, her recent trauma was largely responsible for her vulnerability now. Not only had she left her family, friends, and the town she'd grown up in, but she had just seen her very first love, her very first white man, killed by black militants.
One might think that she would strike back at others of her race for taking the life of her white lover, but the mind flips out in strange ways. There was no reason to her behavior. She didn't do anything as yet, but she was on the brink of doing harm to herself or to anyone, of any color, who came into her path.
Marjorie's mother, Gladys Grover, was hardly aware of any of this. Like her spoiled daughter, she did not have much insight or compassion for others. The human condition was not her concern. Her own comfort was all she thought about.
Ms. Betty, on the other hand, had learned to psyche out people's personalities with the skill of an expert. It had served her well many times in her former trade as a prostitute and madam. It had'd helped her know exactly how to keep a spoiled bitch like Marjorie Lloyd in line. The spanking she had received was all part of it. It was worth it now, considering the financial and emotional benefits she was reaping from the new situation which she had so ably created.
When Marjorie's mother arrived, there was the usual noise and commotion surrounding her arrival. Gladys Grover presented Claudja like a piece of meat.
"This is your new maid, a present from Mama," she announced.
The young girl, never before having been in a place of such wealth, stood meekly, trembling.
Ms. Betty stepped right in, taking Claudja away with her into a private place to get to her before Marjorie had the first chance.
Marjorie was uncomfortable with the situation, and with her bra of pins, but she knew circumstances demanded that she stay seated beside Corbett and listen to the rantings of her mother who was complaining about the terrible blacks she'd encountered in trouble-torn Jamaica.
"What's the matter, baby?” Ms. Betty asked Claudja. "You're shaking like a leaf.”
"So much has happened so fast. I don't know what it is. I need to strike out the way I did at home. It's crazy. That's the way I've always done it when this devil takes over me and gets me confused like this. I've done crazy pranks to people, but now I'm sorry for it, and I can't get away with it here.”
"Don't be so sure of that," Ms. Betty said. "If you need to pull pranks to release your frustration, then you'll just have to do that.”
Claudja was, of course, taken by surprise at the response. But somehow, she trusted Ms. Betty from the beginning.
They had a long talk.
Ms. Betty told Claudja what she had just been through with Marjorie. Now wearing a more suitable uniform, she raised the skirt and showed Claudja her well bruised behind.
"She did that to you?”
"Yes, and she'll do the same to you if you let her. But don't worry about that. She just needs black women like us to dominate her. You, in fact, could probably do the best job of all with all that anger inside of you.”
The two, attractive black women talked on into the night. Claudja told Ms. Betty everything about herself. Ms. Betty did the same.
They finally decided that they had both been taken advantage of by women like Marjorie Lloyd. They knew that they now had a chance to strike back, and that was exactly what they were going to do.
It started the very next day, when Marjorie kissed her husband off for work.
"So long," he told Marjorie. "I'll leave you in the capable hands of Ms. Betty and Claudja.”
"Alright," she cooed, cockteasing him as usual.
"If you keep that up," he said, referring to the way she stroked his cock through his pants as she spoke to him on the doorstep, "I'll turn around and come right back to the bedroom.”
"Not now," Marjorie said, pushing him away. "Maybe when you get home." Then she added, just to be safe, "If I'm in the mood.”
He'd heard it many times. Rarely was she in the mood when he returned. But he just took it like that, and that was what he got.
But Ms. Betty, listening closely to all that went on, had other plans. She sat down with Claudja and they had another talk. She asked Claudja to use her special powers as a prankster and think of some tricks which would place Marjorie in a position of total submission.
It didn't take the two of them too long to figure out what to do.
"My husband is gone," Marjorie said, approaching Ms. Betty humbly.
"Good. You can fix me some breakfast, then," Ms. Betty said.
Marjorie had never fixed breakfast for anyone in her life. She hated to cook. In fact, she barely knew how. Her husband made breakfast for her on most mornings. If she didn't go out to eat, she usually didn't eat. Already aware of the foods that were in the kitchen cabinets, Ms, Betty told Marjorie what she wanted, and Marjorie reluctantly fixed it for her and for Claudja. She was humiliated by being a slave to two black women who were being paid to wait on her! But then, that was what she had asked for by her actions. You can't get away with being a dominatrix unless you really are one. Marjorie was a bitch, but when it came to taking total control, she had met her match in Ms. Betty.
After breakfast, Marjorie was hot. She had dismissed her husband, but all this domination by black women was driving her crazy.
Her cunt was steaming. She needed something that only Ms. Betty and Claudja could give her.
She stood in the living room, being watched by the two black maids who stretched out on the couch.
She removed the bra.
"I slept in this all night. I thought about you each time I rolled over," she told Ms. Betty. "Look, my breasts are red and raw.”
The globes, were large and when she cupped her hands beneath the mounds, she puckered up her lips. Then she raised her breasts to her mouth and kissed the red flesh.
"I should make you lick them until they feel better," Marjorie told the black dominatrix. The way she phrased it irked the short-tempered Ms. Betty.
"It sounds like you're giving an order to me," Ms. Betty said sternly. "I thought we established the fact that I'm the boss around here. I'm the queen and you're the servant.”
"I'm sorry," Marjorie said. She was humble again.
But when Claudja, innocently enough, asked Marjorie why she had pushed her husband away, Marjorie exploded.
"Why do you ask me that? Do you want him for yourself? Do you want to give my husband your black pussy?”
In light of all that had recently happened to her, Claudja saw red. She was ready to jump up and strangle the snotty blonde.
But Ms. Betty held her back.
"We have better plans. And it's time to start acting on them," she said. She was talking about the prank which the two of them had cooked up together earlier.
Ms. Betty ordered Marjorie to participate.
"Go into your bedroom and bring me your sexiest pair of panties," she commanded. "And hurry up!”
Marjorie scurried off into the bedroom. Fear filled her body again for she knew that she was at the whim of her black dominatrix. She hated it, and yet she loved it. She wanted to expose it all and tell her husband so that she could crawl out from under Ms. Betty's thumb, but crawl was what she was going to do, and it would be wherever and however Ms. Betty commanded her to crawl.
She searched through her drawers, looking for her sexiest pair of panties. She was aroused to think that she would have a chance to display herself in them in front of two gorgeous black women. She picked a pair of lace panties which were pure white in color, except for the yellow area which clung to the curve and cleft of her cunt. The yellow color was from the cream of her pussy. It stained the front of her crotch just enough to make the panties especially arousing.
While she was getting the panties, Claudja was busy in the kitchen cutting some rope which Ms. Betty had found in one of the cabinets.
"I want you completely naked except for the panties," Ms. Betty said as Marjorie returned to the living room. "And then I want to see you standing before me.”
Marjorie responded to the orders. She had never before been commanded like this by anyone, no less a black woman.
She hurried to meet the demands. She was soon naked except for the lace panties. Her long blonde hair hung down. Her face, contorted with subservient desire, was never more beautiful, at least as far as a dominatrix like Ms. Betty was concerned. Marjorie closed her eyes, awaiting the voice of her mistress.
"That's good," Ms. Betty said. "Just stand there with your cunt covered by those lovely panties. Stick your breasts way out so the nipples arouse me. Quiver your cunt muscles so I can see the material at your pussy move back and forth with your cuntal control. I want to control every part of you.”
"You're in control of me from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet," Marjorie said. "I wish that I could feel your mouth all over me, from my head to my toes.”
"Don't be greedy," Ms. Betty snapped. "You'll speak when you're spoken to, and then only to thank me or to praise me, or to praise Claudja, or to call yourself lowly, scummy names.”
Marjorie stood there, quivering. Ms. Betty saw Claudja enter the room with the ropes in her hands.
"Now, place your hands behind your back,” Ms. Betty said, and Marjorie did as she was told.
That was when they bound and gagged her!
Never had she known such a feeling between her legs, She couldn't understand it, but she knew she felt it, and liked it.
This was a new pleasure.