Susan O'Malley was never much of a housekeeper.
She was, however, the best at dominating men, and women, young and old, delighting in bending them to her ways, usually a process that involved forcing them to drink her hot piss. Not usually - always. She loved exploiting the weaknesses of others. It played to her sexually controlling nature.
Today, for example.
Maria was her housekeeper, hired to come in twice a week to keep Susan's house in tip-top shape. The young woman, 22, slender with jet-black hair and deep brown eyes, hailed from a country where Spanish is spoken, an immigrant coming to America with family to seek a better way of life. She was shy and soft-spoken, demure and submissive, never making eye contact with her boss when spoken to. That, as much as her delicious young body, appealed to Susan
Maria had worked for her for a few months now, doing a laudable job, Susan paying her cash, keeping things under the table. She knew very well that Maria was an undocumented alien, possessed of no green card just a willingness to work hard, do whatever it took. Susan wasn't totally heartless; she was a liberal at heart, wanting to help those with less than she. And, if the situation warranted, dominating them in return.
Susan, in a short floral dress, bare legged and wearing black leather shoes, had just returned from shopping, and brought her purchases upstairs where Maria was cleaning the master bedroom bathroom. She peeked around the corner, watching the dedicated dark-skinned worker scrub the shower floor.
"Very nice, Maria," Susan cooed, walking in, startling the woman on her knees, delighting in the surprised response.
"Gracias, senora," Maria said in her heavy accent, smiling, eyes darting to the floor as she addressed her boss.
Susan smiled, put her purchases away, retreating downstairs for a glass of wine, followed by another. The sight of Maria bent over in the shower, her little skirt riding up to reveal her muscular dark, young legs, replayed in her mind. Susan's pussy tingled. And she had to pee. She drained the rest of her third glass of chardonnay and sashayed upstairs. With a mission in mind. And Susan's missions were never deterred.
"Maria," she said, walking into the bathroom where Maria was now dusting the row of lights above the long vanity, her delicious young calves dark and muscular above her little white socks and black works shoes as she raised on tiptoes to do her work. "You don't have a green card, do you? Forgive my asking, but it is necessary."
Maria's dark eyes flashed, her mind racing. She did not have legal status in the United States, none of her family and friends did, most of who worked doing menial labor such as hers. It was an unspoken secret; they didn't have cards, but none of the more affluent people they worked for much cared. They just needed cheap labor, and immigrants, eager and anxious, were more than happy to oblige. Don't ask, don't tell was the order of the day.
"Uh...no, senora...no," she stammered, standing now, duster clutched in her hands before her, looking at the floor as Susan walked slowly around her to inspect the toilet. "Ees...ees that a problemo, senora?"
"No, not at all," Susan sighed, bending to look at the seat, finding it spotless. "Excuse me a minute..."
Boldly, she lifted her skirt, dropped her panties and sat on the toilet, Maria's eyes going wide at the sight of the pretty older woman peeing in plain sight. And at the fleeting glimpse Susan afforded her of the copious pussy hair blossoming in her crotch. She turned to leave, apologizing. Susan stopped her.
"Stay where you are," she said coldly. "I'll only be a moment and you can continue cleaning."
Susan unleashed a noisy, wet torrent of piss into the toilet, and for good measure, a sibilant, hissing wet fart, dribbling out the last of her pee and standing, a shower of droplets plopping wetly onto the freshly cleaned seat. Susan smiled, stepping out of her panties, picking them up and looking back at the toilet.
"You missed several spots, Maria," she sighed. "That is not good. Be a dear and clean that mess."
Maria blinked, unable to quickly process what was happening or why her boss would blatantly befoul something she'd just cleaned and then blame her for it. White people were said to be demanding and crazy, she'd heard, and was now learning. But obediently as always, she did what she was told, walking by Susan with a rag and spray bottle, kneeling before the seat and its sprinkling of golden juices glistening there.
"No, Maria," Susan hissed, suddenly standing behind her maid, grabbing her dark ponytail and pulling into the young woman cried out in pain and shock. "Not with your rag. With this..."
Susan reached around with her other hand, tapping Maria's trembling lips. The maid's eyes widened. Her English wasn't good, but she knew exactly what Mrs. O'Malley wanted.
"But...senora...por favor...no...no, por favor!" Maria cried, feeling her head bending toward the bowl under Susan's powerful old hand.
"Si, si, senorita, si, si..." Susan laughed. "You don't have a green card, do you? You don't want me to report you, do you? Hmmm?"
Maria shook her head frantically in Susan's grip.
"Good," Susan cooed. "Now. Lick up my piss. If you want to keep working in this house, in this country! Lick my PISS!!"
"Noooo!" Maria cried.
Then her face was pushed into the bitter liquid on the seat, screaming mouth opening, lips forced into the foul fluid, the air around the seat redolent with the fart her boss had left behind. Susan laughed, holding her head there, twisting it, the older woman perhaps not as strong physically as her soon-to-be slave, but certainly emotionally. And with Susan, that's where it counted and allowed her to easily control her young maid.
"Lick it, girl, lick it!" Susan sang in a pleasant voice. "Let's see that tongue...lengua, if I'm not mistaken...use your lengua, girl, lick, lick..."
Maria cried, trying to close her mouth, eyes shut against the humiliation as Susan's grip tightened on her hair, hurting her. But then obediently, fearing Mrs. O'Malley and the threat of deportation of not only herself but her entire family, the submissive girl snaked out her tongue. She grimaced, tentatively tasting the pungent piss coating the seat, then slowly lapped, drop by drop, tears running down her face. She'd do as she were told, she thought, save her job, save her family. She would do whatever it took to please her crazy boss.
"That's right, that's right, that's a girl, Buena chica, Buena chica," Susan laughed. "Buena...how does it taste, Maria? How does Mrs. O'Malley's piss taste?"
"Dis...dis-goosting! Por favor, Senora O'Malley, no mas, no mas!" Maria cried, swallowing the bitter liquid on her tongue and lapping more as Susan's head directed her all over the wet seat.
"Good!" Susan laughed, now lifting the bowl and ramming the shocked maid's head inside. "Now drink up!"
Susan's laughter echoed off the tiled walls of the bathroom and Maria's groans of shame, and the gurgling sounds of her face pushed beneath the surface of the warm, yellow water, echoed off the bowl in which she was imprisoned. Fearing drowning, she had no choice but to open her mouth and gulp down mouthfuls of piss-tainted water, over and over until Susan released her and stood back, roaring with dark laughter. She was enjoying watching Maria's sputtering head escape the bowl, the dark-haired girl's face streaked with piss. She desperately wiped at it with her dirty rag, crying and begging for mercy.
"That's all for now, dearie," Susan sighed. "Finish cleaning my toilet, the usual way, and then come down to the kitchen."
Maria watched her dominant boss leave, and then sunk to the floor, sobbing as she cleaned. She did her best, and then composed herself to walk downstairs where Susan was at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs into a bowl.
"I feel like an omelet," she said, not watching Maria stand behind her, still crying, waiting. "Uh-oh!"
Quite on purpose, Susan let the contents of an egg miss the bowl and counter, the sticky yellow-and-clear gob landing wetly on one black leather shoe with open toes. The egg covered her foot, from ankle to toes. Susan smiled at Maria.
"Clean that mess, bitch," she snarled. "On your knees, now, and lick that shit off my shoe and foot!"
Maria blindly obeyed, kneeling and slurping the egg mess, starting at Susan's skinny ankle, over the leather surface of the shoe, and then the toes, attaching her mouth to the pointy digits and sucking. Susan laughed, watching her slave maid slobber over her filthy foot.
"Again, bitch, you missed a spot!" she growled.
Susan slipped her foot out of the shoe, revealing a grimy, dark-crusted interior, thick and foul smelling. She pointed her foot into it and the rest of the egg slithered down her toes and landed on the sole. She put the shoe back on, squishing her foot inside. Cracking another egg she slipped off the other grimy shoe, dropping it inside and putting it back on. She walked around the big kitchen stovetop counter, giggling as she worked the egg deeply into those filthy soles, Maria watching helplessly from her knees.
"Go on," she sighed, hopping up on the counter, skirt riding high on her tanned, solid old thighs and dangling her shoes, thick bridges of egg connecting the bottoms of her wrinkled old soles with the filthy footwear. "Lick that mess up out of my disgusting stinky shoes!"
Maria cried harder now, gently taking off one shoe and putting her face inside to lap the gelled mess clean, the stench of sweat and foot funk nearly making her throw up. Susan watched, legs spread, casually fingering her hairy pussy, as her maid licked the shoe clean, then the other.
