Chapter 13

Nancy minced over to stand in front of Madge Anderson, a woman she had nodded to and waved good morning to for fourteen or more years. They were not friends but they were neighbors, and now they were something else again.

"I think we will start with you on your knees SLUT!" Madge shouted as she slapped Nancy sharply across her face. 'Might as well get the ball rolling, ' Madge said to herself as a mean little smile turned up at the corners of her crimson colored lips, a smile that quickly turned to a serious, determined, unfeeling, glare. It was going to be a long night for Nancy, but one that would seem to fly by all too quickly for the older but stronger domme.

Madge had enjoyed herself thoroughly tonight. She had no animosity towards Nancy, it was just business, she thought to herself with a smile. She always liked to use that line from "The Godfather"; it just seemed to define what she did for her sexual pleasure as opposed to hurting someone because you didn't like them. In some cases the sex and feelings toward her victim jelled, but usually the woman who was getting her ass whipped was of no consequence; she was simply a means to an end.

When Madge knew the submissive it usually heightened the experience and tonight was no exception. It had been some time since she had last had a female in her basement for pain and pleasure, so tonight she had pulled out all the stops. Sometimes it took her all evening to have an orgasm and she nearly wore herself out trying to come up with something to get the sexual turn on juices flowing. Tonight she had experienced three cums, and they were all big and wet. Nancy knew that; she had tasted them all. Madge particularly liked to do that. As she felt it getting close she would bring the poor soul down from the cross and straddle her face and gush her essence into and around the mouth of "whoever".

All evening she could not get the thought out of her mind that whenever she bumped into Nancy while walking about the neighborhood or in the local market or shopping in the mall, she would make a point of stopping to say hello and reminding her (as if she would need reminding) of who and what they were to each other. Domme and Sub. It would not be spoken, but they would each think of nothing else as they chatted about the weather or family or Madge's garden. It had made her hot, so hot that she got a little carried away the first session.

She'd had Nancy tied securely to the horse and was flailing away with a nasty little flogger, the sweat flying off her scrawny but muscular biceps, when she heard this wailing in the distance. Except that it was Nancy screaming right next to her. As she pulled up and relaxed she mused that the soundproofing was well worth the bucks. Flipping the slut onto her back and reattaching the bindings she continued in a more controlled tempo with a smaller but stingy pussy whip, while straddling her neighbor's mouth, now held open with an "O" ring gag. She was dripping profusely.

Marge had Nancy's ankles tied up and opened wide so that her cunt was accessible to her whipping and her purplish colored ass globes were visually accessible. The effect was quite a turn on, as she could hear Nancy under her trying to scream and beg and cry, while at the same time she was fighting to not drown under the onslaught of Madge's love juice.

Before tonight, Nancy had no idea; Madge's activities were a total secret. After tonight, Nancy would shudder involuntary at the sight of the older woman.

There were no acrobatics, no weird and unusual devices employed. The sexual tension in the air and between Madge's legs made all that unnecessary. It was just classical, basic, Torture 101. Nipple clamps with scary little alligator teeth, a clitty clamp of similar nature, spreader bars for knees and ankles, ropes used expertly, not only to bind and hold but also to constrict and present Nancy's big tits for painful slapping and snapping. Madge used a wide assortment of paddles and whips until Nancy was so sore she could not add any more pain to her senses.

And then the evening was over. Madge undid her bindings and commander her to her feet. Nancy had the presence of mind to first crawl to her tormentor and kiss first one boot and then the other, thanking her profusely for showing her miserable slave such loving attention. She waited. Did Nancy really feel grateful? No, Nancy felt fearful that it might not be over if she did not show respect and gratitude. She did respect Madge; she admitted that to herself. She had never experience an evening of pain as she had just submitted to at Madge's hands. She was afraid that if it continued, she would not survive. She allowed herself to breathe a tiny imperceptible sigh of relief as Madge cupped her chin and spoke to her, "Rise up, my slutty pussy slave and get your ass dressed and the hell out of my sight, before I change my mind and finish you off!"

Nancy had no idea if she were serious but she quickly rose and put on her skimpy maid uniform, stretching it down over her sore achy tits so it covered her bare pussy. She looked about but saw no thong as she struggled into her heels. She risked incurring a penalty as she glanced in the hall mirror and tried for a few seconds to comb her sweaty hair into an orderly mess, and then she was out the door and down the walk. She never looked back and was soon at her own door. It was locked. As Nancy knocked and waited for entry, Madge stared out at her with a sated look on her face and rubbed her contented, purring pussy. Well, it seemed to her to be purring; it really did she thought as she watched the slut go inside, the door closing on her barely covered ass.

Nancy stood at attention, arms at her side, chest out, chin up and eyes looking straight ahead. Carrie walked slowly around her mother, looking for signs of her ordeal. Sally had given her the basic details of what would happen this evening.

"Uh, what about Rose and your father, Miss Carrie?" Nancy quickly whispered.

Carrie didn't answer at first, still walking around the woman who used to be her mother. SLAP! "Speak when spoken too, bitch. Don't you ever learn?" she spat out.

A hand involuntarily flew to her stinging cheek, "Yes Miss Carrie, I am so sorry."

Carrie paused, then responded, "To answer your question though slut, Rose is in bed and daddy is sleeping over." She watched her mother compute that last bit of information; provided no details and moved on. "Turn around and lift you skirt; show me where she hurt you."

Nancy slowly spun around and lifted her skirt to display her red-purple striped ass, her eyes tearing up in shame as her daughter felt the darkest area of heavy bruising and then pinched the fatty part between her thumb and finger. "Did you enjoy your night out, you slutty bitch?" Carrie demanded to know.

"Yes Ma'am," Nancy replied, the word 'no' having apparently escaped from her vocabulary forever. "Thank you for allowing me to work for Mrs. Henniman, Ma'am."

Carrie was bemused at her mother's cowed continence as she regarded her as one might when trying to decide the next step in dealing with a servant.

"All right, call your employer and report in. Then get that uniform and your cheer leader outfit in the washer and hand-wash of any lingerie you have before you go to bed. You will be reporting to Mrs. Henniman tomorrow."

"Yes Ma'am," Nancy replied. She then proceeded to answer all of Sally's questions about her evening and how she felt, what she enjoyed most, what she enjoyed lease, how Madge Anderson tasted, etc. By the time she was done, it was quite late, and it was almost midnight be the time she hung the last of her panties on the line in the back yard. She was grateful for the cover of a moonless night, as Carrie had not allowed her any clothing other than her heels. Carrie had not even had to tell her to hang her wash naked under the stars; silence spoke volumes between them now.

The next morning, Nancy arose from her bed in the maid's quarters. Even though Ed had not returned the previous night and had not even been expected to do so, she knew she would be punished if she had had the temerity to enter the master suite. It was lucky for her that she chose to be so careful, since unbeknownst to her, Carrie had slept the night in her father's bed. Carrie had lately considered moving into her dad's bedroom and taking her mother's old slot. 'The position was vacant right?' she thought. But maybe it was not a great idea. Her dad was probably going to start bringing Helga over sometime soon, and it would not look so good to her, so she decided against it. Carrie would have no problem giving her dad some head, and in fact she had once, when Ed came home so drunk he thought it was Nancy.

Carrie listened as her mother rose and walked past the closed door. Although carpeted, she was sure she detected the faint footfalls of high heels going down the hall and smugly thought to herself, 'She had better be in heels and in full uniform or I will see to her when I get up.' Carrie then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Nancy adjusted her maid cap in the hall mirror and slowly made her way to her Mistress's bedroom. She was sore, really sore. Her bottom hurt, her legs hurt, her arms hurt, her tits hurt terribly and even her pussy hurt. She paused and knocked. She waited and knocked again. After a respectful wait she turned the knob and discovered Carrie's room to be empty.

"Hi mom. Wow you look cute," said her cheerful youngest girl as she passed her in the hall. "If you're looking for the lady of the house, I think she might be in dad's bedroom."

Nancy was so taken aback by Rose's words that she just stared as her back disappeared into the kitchen. Nancy turned and was soon standing in front of the door to her bedroom; no not her bedroom, her husband's bedroom. Her hand rose to knock and paused as she wondered 'What did Rose mean by the lady of the house? What did her baby girl understand about what was going on?" Nancy was so confused. She had been assuming that Rose was as blissfully ignorant of the situation as she appeared to be. But maybe not; maybe she knew. Maybe Carrie told her everything. Her hand fell to the door and rapped a couple of times softly.

"Come in," she heard Carrie sleepily respond.

Nancy approached the king size bed, grabbed her miniskirt and bobbed a respectable curtsey. It's amazing how quickly you learn to do something so alien to your life, so well. "Good morning Miss Carrie, I have prepared breakfast for you," she said much more cheerily than she felt.

Carrie rose on one elbow and looked at her mother. She was now completely at ease being in charge of this woman who some sixteen years ago gave birth to her. It was so much more fun giving orders than taking them and she realized that she got an erotic charge from dominating Nancy. She was bi, of course, but enjoyed her boyfriend Troy taking charge, and in fact would not have stood for a man who did not want to be the boss. But there was something to this game of being cruel to a submissive woman, especially her own mother.