Mistress Marisas Estate Pt 32

I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...

********************************

"Take off your dress, Mary."

You see her eyes flash instantly up at you, shock on her face. You smile slightly.

"Come on, girl, don't be shy around me. Do it, off with your dress. Now, don't make me ask you again!"

Ilsa looks at Mary, just stares blankly, cold. The two other ladies and two men at your luncheon look to you, then back at Mary, look to each other. They aren't shocked by you and the goings-on at your house at all. They are slightly surprised to hear what you just said to one they considered a guest just like they are. You are talking to Mary like you talk to your slaves. You are standing next to her. You run your finger down her cheek, soft, affectionate.

Her face reddens. She looks up at you, looks like a sad puppy.

"Marisa, is this really necessary, please."

Her voice a whisper, the coffee cup in the saucer on her lap shudders slightly.

You laugh, look down at her.

"Necessary??? Take your fucking dress off! Stand and do it now."

Your finger pushes into her cheek, feel her teeth meet it, her head pushed to the side roughly. You move back to your chair, sit.

You watch as Mary places her cup and saucer on the table next to her. She rises slowly, feels all eyes in the room on her. She stands in front of her chair. She's done things for you before but not like this. This is the first time in front of people she thought she was and equal to.

"Marisa, please..." One last plaintive plea, she is cut off in mid sentence.

"Take your fucking dress off or I'll have Ilsa do it for you. Then I'll have her take your ass to the basement. Remember, do you remember? Do you fucking remember what happens to you in my basement punishment room?"

Your voice stern harsh, all hear the menace in your question.

Ilsa turns to you.

"Marisa, you are something else." She laughs quietly, turns to Mary.

"Move, Mary!"

The men in the room are on the edge of their seats with keen interest in the well-dressed older cougar-like and beautiful woman standing before them. They are seeing her for the first time. The women in the room are interested but smiling contently at the show, the show they've seen before with several of your boy toys, but never with another woman.

Mary reaches back and unzips her dress, lets it fall off of her shoulders, slips it down over her hips. She stands in the bunched puddle of her crumpled dress surrounding her feet on the floor. Slowly she steps out of it. Standing and looking somewhat submissive and angry at the same time, she looks away from you, from the people staring at her.

She is beautiful, sexy, very appealing to the men in the room. She stands in just her delicate underthings, all peach color, lace top pushup bra highlighting and pushing up to the extreme her pretty breasts, exposing each nipple just peeking out over the top of the lace top liner. She wears lace top thigh high stockings with little peach color bows at the top or each and thin ankle strap 4" spike heel shoes. She wears no panties, just shoes, bra and stockings. She is just the way you ordered her dressed. She is smooth and soft, hint of the lips of her pussy at the top slightly jut out, her legs closed together trying to hide it all.

"Happy now, Marisa?"

She looks off to the side. Her face flushed.

"No, I'm not. Not yet."

You stand and hurry to her.

Without warning you bring you hand down so hard across her face, so hard that she cries out.

"Shut up. You say another word until I tell you to and Ilsa will take you to the basement and beat you. Take that seriously."

You slap her face again.

She looks to the window, her face hidden from the others, tears well up in her eyes.

"Don't you cry, bitch. Don't you dare. You mess up the pretty makeup I have you wear and I'll be very disappointed."

You walk back to your chair.

Ilsa just shakes her head, looks at you then at Mary. She smiles broadly.

"Well this was certainly unexpected."

"Now Mary, tell my girlfriends and their dates what you are. It's okay, you can speak now, girl."

You sip your scotch.

Mary looks to you, face bright red, feels the sting of your hand.

"I didn't know this would be made public."

She looks to Ilsa.

"Don't look at me, Mary. You're her bitch, not mine. I just work the whip. You know that first hand, little girl."

She laughs.

"Mary's a little sex addict. She likes to do very dirty things. An addicted little bitch that found out that she can't say 'no'. Tell them! Say it, Mary!"

You lean forward in your chair. See panic on her face.

"Say it!"

"I am. I'm a sex addict. I am. I'm a submissive bitch, Marisa's bitch."

She looks at the man to your left, focuses on his face. She feels comforted slightly by his gaze, sees she's turning him on. She gushes.

"I'm Marisa's bitch. I have never been more erotically excited in my life than now, being Marisa's slut, bitch, whore."

You laugh, sit and listen as she goes on and on. Ilsa reaches out, puts her hand on top of yours. She whispers to you

"You win. I never thought she'd do it."

You turn to her, smile.

"They always do what I want."

You sit back in your chair. Sip your drink, eyes over the top of your rocks glass.

"Mary, turn and show your little hole. Quickly, girl."

You watch as she turns, arches her back. Reaching back she spreads her cheeks wide with both hands. Her peach colored nail polish on her pretty nails pushed into her cheeks, she pulls her butt apart wide, exhibiting her lubricated and tight little hole to those seated and watching intently.

"I could stick my finger in it but then I'd have to wash my hands."

You giggle, girlishly, look to Isla.

"Is she clean?"

"Yes."

You know what that means, Mary does too. She was put through the same demeaning cleaning process as your sissy sluts are prior to being fucked publically or sent on to please others for you. You see Mary's face turn bright red.

"There's no punch line, no moral to the story. I just did this because I can. Mary showed me a side of her that I couldn't say 'no' to. Little hungry bitch. You all know me. I have to see just how hungry. I'm drawn that way. I have to take it as far as I can."

"That's what we like about you, Marisa."

One of the women finishes her drink, puts her glass on the coffee table, looks back at Mary.

"She is interesting. I may want to fuck that."

They laugh as you stand. You hear the other lady exclaim to her man, 'She certainly is. And I'm talking about Marisa, never boring.'

You run your hand down over Mary's butt, feel her tremble slightly, feel goose bumps rise on her cheeks.

"She likes girls. More accurately, Mary loves girls. I could have her go down on you you like, if you like. She's a good little pussy licker. Ass licker too."

You turn to the woman said she'd be interested in fucking your new little toy. You smile at the man next to her.

"Ilsa?"

"Fuck you, Marisa. You know that isn't my thing. I know you like it. Why don't you do if for us all."

"Ilsa, please. You know I only do it because I can. I'm not into girls either. I like to play with her son's little thing, you know that."

You laugh.

"But, yes. I have used her mouth. She's very good at it, motived little bitch. Aren't you, girl?"

You slap her butt hard, see her rise to her toes slightly, settle back down on her heels.

"Yes, Marisa. You know I love doing that for you."

You rest your hand on her rear, cup one cheek. You hear the soft quiver in her voice. She's slightly afraid.

"I could make her lick my ass if I wanted to, one stop shopping with this one. And she likes the boys too. A lot. Mary is one perfectly suited happy member of the family now. I don't use her like I do my other little bitches but she shows certain select male friends of mine her sex addicted side, shows it all too well. I sometimes have a hard time calling my little girl back home. Last time out she stayed an extra day."

You laugh, pat her butt. You walk back to your chair. You see her stand with her rear facing your friends, cheeks widely spread.

"She's really very pretty and in great shape for an older lady."

You think back to her being over the horse in your basement, watching as Eric, your number one stud boy, repeatedly fucked her for hours, think back to her whimpers and screams. Memory flashes into your mind, you feel yourself get wet.

"Put your dress on, Mary. The dirty little show's over."

You ring your bell.

As I enter the room I curtsey to you, bow to the others. Serving tray in my hands, my eyes to the floor, I see my mother wiggle back into her dress, zip it quickly. She sits and sips from her coffee cup.

"Does anyone want another drink before lunch? I know I do."

You put your empty glass on the tray I hold.

I see them nod. I take their drink requests silently. I feel my tight cock harness and huge butt plug as I bend to allow each guest to place their glasses on my tray, my tiny ruffled skirt barely covering each. My mother doesn't even look up at me as she places her coffee cup and saucer on my tray.

"Bring me something stronger. I'll have what Marisa's having, make it a double."

She looks to the window, doesn't make eye contact with me.

As I start out of the room I hear speak to me.

"Princess, you did a very good job dressing your mother for today's show. Good girl."

I turn quickly, hurry to bow.

"Thank you, Mistress, thank you."

Just as quickly I turn and hurry to fill the drink requests before serving lunch in the dining room with Niki and Trevor, your other slave boys that will serve your guests at today's luncheon.

"Come on, Mary. That wasn't so bad."

You laugh.

"And you and I both know you enjoyed that."

She leans forward in her chair. Mary looks deeply into your eyes, grips your hand in hers.

"And you and I both know I would go down on you right fucking here."

She stares at you coldly, matter of factly.

"Ooooooooooo, threatening little bitch., patience, you naughty little girl. Plenty of time for that and other cheap thrills later tonight Right now, I'm hungry. And it's not for your mouth, Mary."

Laughter from all seated, Mary stares at you submissively. She will be your lover any way you want to use her. The lady that said she'd fuck Mary looks on. She is thinking.

"And we have to get into the city, shopping to do later."

Ilsa looks around the room.

"We girls have a party to put on this weekend."

You look to Mary. Savor the very hungry little bitch you discovered and developed. You see her stare back at you, see the strength in her eyes. You know she is your bitch. But only until she decides not to be. You know it's her choice. She is so very much enjoying this. But you know you don't own her. You are just using her as much as she's using you. You smile to yourself, think that you truly do own her little boy. But his mother is somewhat of an equal in a very interesting way. You're going to see just how far you can take it. This was one of her first tests. I certainly won't be the last. You wink at her, see her wink back, unobserved by the others.

"I do love you, baby doll, love what you are. You know that."

You look to Mary as you say that softly, touch her hand.

"As I do you, Mistress Marisa, as I do you."

Mary smiles at you as the two of you head to the dining room. I bow as you walk passé me. The other two serving boys bow to your guests.

I am your slave.