The Mistress Of The House Ch 07

Despite it making breathing harder, the gasmask was welcome -- the room was choked with dust, every surface covered in at least half an inch of the stuff! Hannah could feel it clinging to the few parts of her skin that were exposed -- on her legs, and a strip between her sleeves and the mittens. She couldn't even tell what this chamber was -- maybe a guestroom, or a bedroom for a favored servant? There was a bed, securely bolted to the floor, and a small basin, one corner holding a little wardrobe, which she hadn't yet dared open.

There was an window, currently open and giving her somewhere to shovel the dust, although the bars made it messier than it should have been, and, of course, the door to the outside was locked, until Miss Coerator returned. But her privates were currently unmolested, even if they were locked away. With the number of restraint devices around, a chance to turn the tables would surely come sooner or later!

She turned her head as she roused up another cloud of dust, wiping it off the eye-pieces, trying to shoo it towards the window. The latex had taken some getting used to, but the closeness of it was surprisingly comfortable, and the stockings were better than getting dust all over her skin. She was on her knees, trying to restore some shine to the floor, her arms and legs too exhausted to permit her to stand up.

Another cloud of dust billowed up around her, blinding her for a moment as she pushed the cloth along the floor. Her progress was blocked by something she hadn't seen, a hard and solid shape. When the dust had cleared enough that she could see, she found it was a metal loop, securely bolted in position. It was obviously for locking something, or someone, in place -- a leash could be tied there, forcing someone to keep their head down, or used to shackle a wrist in place. Hannah imagined Miss Coerator locked away -- stripped of her fancy clothes, bound and abused. How long would it take to break her pride, Hannah wondered, if she were to be shackled and tormented?

A spike suddenly pushed against the meat of her calf. When she twisted around, she saw that Miss Coerator was standing over her. 'You do look good down on your knees, my dear.' The spike of her heel pressed harder against Hannah. 'And you seem to have made good progress. An impressive day's work, although there is still a lot to do, of course. And you have made quite the mess of your uniform.' The pressure relented for a moment, before she tapped Hannah's backside with the tip of her boot. 'But you must be tired and hungry, I'm sure. Can you stand?'

Hannah tried, getting her feet under her, her legs wobbling and shaky. Miss Coerator did nothing to help, simply watching in amusement as she swayed, legs in agony, the ballet heels adding another layer of agony. She fell against a wall, slowly sliding downwards, back to the floor.

'I suppose even your stamina has a limit, my dear. But I'm not so proud I won't help a servant in need. Now, strip, and then we can deal with your needs.' It took the last of Hannah's strength to remove her clothing, the latex fighting her, snapping back as she tried to remove it, the mittens making it impossible to grip, until Miss Coerator came to help. She was far more experienced, easily peeling the material away, leaving Hannah naked except for the mittens, boots and mask, and of course the collar. She tried to stand again, her legs refusing to obey her. Miss Coerator moved over, a long plastic hose in hand. The filter on the front of the gasmask was unscrewed, allowing her a few short breaths of sweet air, dust mingling with the scent of Miss Coerator, before the hose was screwed in place. Now, in order to breathe, she had to pull air along the entire length of the tube. Miss Coerator stood up, a playful expression on her face. 'Now, my dear, I do hope you will be obedient. It has been a decidedly mixed bag so far.' She placed her hand over the open end of the tube.

The air in the tube quickly became hot and stale, Hannah starting to feel woozy, until Miss Coerator removed her hand. 'I want you nice and rested for what is to come -- there is a lot more work to be done, and I wouldn't want you to distract yourself.' She propped the hose up on the basin then stepped outside, returning and wheeling in a cart supporting a black metal box, a single hole in one side. She unlocked a large padlock on the side, opening it up -- the inside was padded but had no other ornamentation, nothing other than cushioned pads to prevent the occupant from bashing against the cold metal.

Hannah squeaked, trying to retreat, fear and exhaustion slowing her movement.

'Now, my dear, please don't cause any problems. It would be such a shame if I had to be harsh with you. In you go.' She capped the tube with her hand again, showing her power. It only took a breath or two for the air to run short, as Hannah forced herself to move, managing to crawl forward, hearing Miss Coerator purr with satisfaction. 'Good girl.'

Hannah had to curl up to fit inside, almost in the fetal position, although the cushioning was deep enough to make the position comfortable, her body supported by padding rather than hard metal.

'Now, just in case I need to communicate with you.' Miss Coerator reached in, a hand caressing one of Hannah's breasts before clipping something over one of Hannah's ears. Then she fed the hose through the hole in the lid, before closing it. The padding was thick enough that Hannah could barely feel the "click" of the lock shutting, as she was sealed into the darkness. It was a good thing she wasn't claustrophobic! A gentle rumble started, as she was wheeled away, the hallway not entirely smooth, occasional bumps shaking her around. There was just about enough space for her to sit up straight, and slightly twist and flex her limbs, but no more.

As she was moved, she heard Miss Coerator's voice in one ear, coming through the earbud.

'I am planning on having some guests for an event soon, and I do hope that you will be cooperative and entertain them. No doubt you will appreciate the chance to engage in some less menial labor as well.'

Some complicated maneuvering happened, as the cart negotiated a corner in a multi-point turn. Hannah considered pushing against the lid, but with Miss Coerator pushing the cart, it seemed pointless.

She felt several more turns and curves, and then was bumped up a few steps, jolting around the tiny space, before movement stopped. All she could smell and taste was the plastic and rubber of the hose, as Miss Coerator spoke again.

'You are one of very few to be in here, you know -- I guard my privacy well. You should feel honored, little maid.'

Were they in her bedroom, then? Given that this was where Hannah had been explicitly banned from entering, then Miss Coerator really did keep it private!

'You truly do have a lovely physique, my dear. But you could be a little more obedient, I feel. All those naughty toys you bought with you, were you intending to do any work? They do make quite an impressive display! So many to use -- I wonder which you prefer? If you're good, I might let you pick, although it's far more fun to choose myself.'

A familiar-sounding motor whirred into life, Hannah shaking in response, feeling herself slicken just from the sound, despite being locked into the chastity belt.

'This one seems to have been used a lot. Is it your favorite? And seems to have been modified as well.' The pitch of the motor changed, vibrating more loudly. 'At the highest level it was certainly vigorous! Is that what you used for your stamina training? But while you are in my employ, such things are forbidden, without my explicit permission. Maybe I should have placed one of your remote-controlled devices in you, but I think you should have a night of full rest. As a reward for your good work'

Hannah tried to imagine what Miss Coerator's bedroom might look like -- from how she kept the rest of the house, they were probably a mess. But she dressed so stylishly, so maybe she kept her rooms in good order and didn't care about the rest? Probably a lot of clothing, all latex, leather and silk, the finest materials and brands, as well as the fetishwear. Lots of shoes. And then her mind started filling in other details -- chains hanging from the ceiling, whips and crops, other devices to punish her maids. She shifted uncomfortably -- at least when she was stuck in the box, she was relatively safe! And, of course, a pile of all of Hannah's vibrators and dildos.

The buzzing suddenly cut off. 'Now, my dear, I'm going to clean myself. You can rest in there, nice and snug, and then I will clean you in the morning. It looks to be raining, so it will be an indoor clean this time. Won't that be nice?'

The air coming through the hose was richly scented now, heavily infused with Miss Coerator's presence. Whatever was broadcasting to the earbud had been left on, the sounds of running water coming through, along with pleased sighs. Hannah tried not to imagine Miss Coerator's body, lush and full, covered in suds and water droplets, playing with herself in the shower. The thoughts only increased Hannah's arousal, but with the mittens on, she couldn't even grope her breasts properly, succeeding only in smearing dust across herself. And the box was so small it was starting to get hot from her body heat, sweat starting to form on her skin, soaking into the cushioning.

The sounds of the shower cut off. What would Miss Coerator wear to bed? Almost certainly not a baggy and comfortable t-shirt, and probably not a leather catsuit. Maybe elaborate lingerie, a silk nightie or similar? Even when alone, she probably made sure to dress up.

Footsteps, Miss Coerator making no attempt to hide her movement, and then the creak of a bed. This was followed by increasingly urgent gasps and pants, wordless sighs and groans. Hannah's eyes went wide as she realized what she was hearing -- Miss Coerator was masturbating! Thoughts of that body stretched out on a bed, fully naked, hands between legs... Hannah clenched her own thighs, even more frustrated that she couldn't reach herself, or do anything more than uselessly grope her own breasts. To have Miss Coerator at her mercy, spreadeagled on her no-doubt massive bed, tease and punish that gorgeous body! She would have to try and find a chance to turn the situation around.

Miss Coerator's gasps continued -- she was obviously teasing herself, building to a slow climax, rather than racing there. Hannah twisted, in frustrated annoyance -- she wanted to come as well, and by her own choice!

After several highly-satisfied sighs, there was a long silence, before the creaking of the bed again, and more footsteps. 'Hmmmm, that was rather pleasurable. Maybe I should get some toys like yours? Now, my dear, I imagine you're rather hungry and thirsty. Let me tend to your needs, and then you can rest.'

The scent coming through the tube intensified, as Miss Coerator moved closer, Hannah smelling her arousal, the air suddenly getting short. Was Miss Coerator holding the tube against her body? It was like having her face pushed against the woman's body, and she instinctively pushed her tongue out, although all it encountered was the plastic hose.

'Unfortunately, this is always a trifle inelegant, but do try not to drown. You do deserve a treat though, your work thus far has been excellent.'

Liquid splashed into her mouth, and Hannah made herself swallow as quickly as possible. It was wine, although heavily watered down. Still, the taste was rich in her mouth, even though she couldn't savor the taste without risking drowning. On an empty stomach, even though it was watered down, she felt a slight giddiness pass over her quickly.

'Not the best vintage, but acceptable. And quite a treat for a maid, I feel.' Something rattled down the tube, bouncing between the ridges and gathering speed, then falling into her mouth. It was dry and rough, flaking apart in her mouth as she chewed. 'Perhaps this will teach you to appreciate real food more? The cook is very talented.' More pellets followed, Hannah trying to fit them into her mouth, feeling her cheeks bulge as she swallowed them. The pellets were nasty and gritty, some sort of meaty aftertaste Hannah couldn't place, making her wince in discomfort.

Finally, the torrent stopped, and there was another pouring of wine, helping to wash the stuff down. This time it had a strange, medicinal aftertaste, chunks of something mixed in with the liquid. Hannah felt her thoughts growing dim, a languor spreading through her limbs.

'Good night, little maid. Rest well -- there is plenty more work to be done tomorrow!'

The box shook, as Miss Coerator must have rapped a knuckle against it. Hannah tried to wriggle, to move herself enough to shake off the growing tiredness, but whatever had been mixed into the wine was too strong, and she quickly passed out.