Ezmarelda" Part 2: Ezmarelda's Delicious Purple Ass
"Who does he think he is? I had done nothing wrong. So, Why did he spank me?"
In the privacy of her quarters, Ezmarelda rubbed her stinging behind though her nightgown as she pondered her master's strange behavior. She had tears in her eyes that she would never show him.
"...And why was he acting so strangely? Sir seemed to be thinking about something else. He was like a child on Christmas Eve."
"...And ordering me to bed without "relieving myself"--who does he think he is?"
She thought about that day at the beginning of summer when he had hired her from her once a week cleaning duties to full time housemaid. She still became aroused when she thought about that spanking in the laundry that sealed their arrangement. It was like a contract. He still could not resist the temptation to spank her at any infraction of his rules. Ezmarelda enjoyed his stern treatment of her. She always became wet when she stood before him listening to him lecturing her in that rumbling voice, knowing she would soon be bent in submission over his desk or the table or his lap.
"But tonight he spanked me too hard and for nothing. And then he leaves me wet and hungry for his cock. If he thinks I'll be his slave tomorrow morning, "bright and early" in his fucking Vineyard then he is in for a surpriseβan Ezmarelda surprise."
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Though it was early fall and time for wine making, the air was still quite warm at nine O'clock. Leonard decided to use an age-old method for the first pressing of the grapes. The grapes had already been dumped into the wooden vat the afternoon before. This was a family tradition, a weekend of wine making and dinners to produce an abundance of wine for himself and his brothers. Leonard had arranged for them to come later in the afternoon with their wives, when it would be cooler to press the grapes into a rough mash with the wine press. But this morning he would have Ezmarelda all to himself.
Ezmarelda, is nine O'clock bright and early to you? And I asked you to wear old clothing."
"Sorry, Mi'Lord, I just couldn't get up this morning after last night's... after last night."
She had worn a brightly colored full skirt and a white blouse that laced in the front. She had haphazardly laced it to reveal her full bust line.
"Very well then, Ezmarelda, Remove your sandals, rinse your feet in the bucket and step into the vat."
"But Sir, it is sooo many grapes. It will take forever for me to even make a dent in this mountain of grapes."
He wanted to see her in the tub. Leonard loved Ezmarelda's rich sumptuous body. Her raven black hair and her fiery eyes drove him to all ends of fantasy and distraction; he had dreamed of having her in this tub of mash all summer.
"There will be others this afternoon. I just want you to begin the pressing this morning." Now remove your sandals, rinse your feet in the bucket and get in the tank...Now. "
Stepping out of her sandals she wiggled the toes of her right foot in the cool water in the bucket. She withdrew her foot and perched it on the edge of the tank. Her foot sparkled with glistening beads and her silver toe ring looked like chromium against her dark complexion.
"Wouldn't Mi lord rather I place my feet in his lap like we have done before? You love it when I pay special attention to you with my pretty feet. I always see you admiring them whenever you can. That is why I wash the windows bare footed, Sir--to see the way you look at them when I am on the step stool.
"Ezmarelda, I will not ask you again..."
"But sir I will ruin my clothes."
"I told you to wear something loose and old."
"But I wanted to look pretty for Mi Lord," Ezmarelda said with a petulant pout.
"Don't worry about your clothing, Ezmarelda, you will be out of them soon enough."
"Sir, you are joking. Someone would see me." She toyed with him, knowing that through taunts and teasing she could control this man's lust.
"I will not be seen naked out here in this barrel of rotting fruit," she huffed.
"Ezmarelda, get into the vat. Now."
Ezmarelda lifted her skirts and tucked them into her waistband. Her perfection didn't stop at her toes. Leonard bathed her legs in the heat of his inflamed stare. Ezmarelda was strong and toned from hard work or at least from the hard work she had done before entering into Leonard's employ. Now she spent more time dreaming up teasing scenarios to temp and taunt her lord. She stepped over the rim of the vat. Her first few steps were tentative but the grapes felt so sensuous under her feet. The grapes crushing and tickling her between her toes as the mash squished this way and that.
"Sir, it feels so icky. My toes are going to be blue for a month."