Slave to My Indian Maid Ch. 15 by spankedboy,spankedboy

My love for Rashida leads her to punish me thoroughly – Tarek

I know I haven’t written much over the last few months. When this journey started, I wanted to write my story about my maids as a type of personal therapy. It was a creative outlet that let me recount those beautiful times and feel some closure, especially about how it would end. Yet, as I draw near the final few chapters, those incidents are tough to recount. There are memories and feelings that I had long ago buried. Such as my tryst with Rubina, and that terrible aftermath, which I had mentioned in the last episode. Yet, I must tell all if I am to achieve the closure. Before I begin this story, let me set the timeline and the context. If only so I can steady myself.

It was May of my final year as an undergrad. My final exam marks had just come in, and I had done extremely well. Remember when Rashida and Rubina had spanked me all night after I had some bad grades? Well, that must have worked.

Convocation was in June, and I was ecstatic. I was soon going to graduate with a degree in business administration, and I was ready to take over my parents’ businesses in Delhi. A business that was going through some tough times, yet my father was hopeful me being there in Delhi in person could help save it. I really wanted to study further, but you must help out family. That was the plan.

It was all decided, and I was looking forward to the summer. In June, after my graduation ceremony, I would travel with my maid Rashida to her village, and stay there for some time, living with Rashida, her mother, and her sister. It took a LOT of planning and deceit to convince my family that not only would I go and stay in a village for some time, but that too Rashida’s village, and in her mother’s house.

The excuse that I gave to my own family was that I wanted to see and understand village life, to better understand how to start marketing the goods that we have, to a lower economic class. Rashida then ‘helpfully’ suggested that since I was looking for a typical Indian village, I go with her to her mother’s house in her own village. My own mother finally agreed, knowing our family maid Rashida would be there to “look after me”. Apparently, my mother thought I, a university business graduate, couldn’t live alone in a village for a few weeks without a maid servant to ‘look after me’!

So it was decided that I would stay there, in Rashida’s mother’s house, for a few weeks, before returning home, and then travelling to Delhi in August. Rashida herself was travelling in two weeks to visit her mother for a short time, before coming back to be with us in Calcutta. She would then return to her village with me in end of June. Then in August, when I moved to Delhi, she accompany me there as well. The Delhi apartment was still to be booked, however. My mother was quite pleased that Rashida would also be with me in Delhi to “take care of me”.

I cannot tell you how many times I had cum (with my dearest Rashida’s permission, of course) to the thought of living alone, 24/7, in my own apartment, in a new city, with my beautiful, beloved, buxom maid Rashida to “look after me” and “take care of me”.

Those were my plans for the summer, and roughly this is how events transpired over the next few days. I will write about each event in as much detail as I can remember. It’s also because if you must get to the end, you have to understand my feelings each step of the way.

One final point. Those of you who may not be familiar with how submission works, or how besotted a slave can become of his mistress, will never understand my feelings. You will wonder why I would tolerate being repeatedly spanked, slapped, caned, urinated upon, humiliated and punished by two “lower class” women – my maids. But then, you have not understood my story. It is a story of my love, for my love.

Rashida. I loved that woman, and it was becoming an obsession. A fixation for which I would end up being thoroughly punished.

Now, back to my story.

* * *

The hot air of the humid night hit my face as the yellow Ambassador taxi we were riding in stopped at a light. The car window was fully rolled down, as there was no air conditioning on this old taxi. The mugginess of the May night was apparent. I was dressed in very light trousers and a cotton shirt, and yet I felt hot. Sweaty.

I glanced to my right.

Rashida, my vivacious maid servant, was dressed in a black burkha. Her face was showing though, so it wasn’t the completely covering cloth – the niqab – that some Muslim women in the city wore. And underneath, I knew she was dressed in a bright yellow sari. I knew because an hour ago I had helped my lovely maid get dressed in that sari.

“Bua.” I whispered, as the car started again. “I am nervous. What if we meet someone I know?”

Rashida’s reply was swift. She suddenly reached out, grabbed my right ear with her left hand and twisted. Her fingers powerfully pinched my ear lobe and gave me a sharp pull by the ear, before she gave it another painful twist. When she was done, I had a stinging right ear. It was dark in the taxi’s back row, but I felt myself blushing a bright red.

“I told you, baba.” Rashida replied with a slight smile, gently stroking me on the thigh, “These parties have a coordinator and I have talked with her. There is no one on the list – or I should say there is no guy on the list – that you know.”

No guy on the list. I would recall that phrase later.

My ears still smarting, I mumbled a thanks. I saw a soft grin on Rashida’s lips. Her hand, which was on my thigh, slowly crept up until she was palming my crotch area. She continued to stroke me, and even through the material of my pants, I felt myself getting harder.

“Baba.” Rashida asked. “Did you book my train ticket for me to go visit my mother?”

“Bua.” I answered. “Not yet. I will do it tomorrow, I promise.”

“I have been asking you for some time.” Rashida’s displeasure was evident in her voice, and I got a sharp, sudden ear pull, once again. “And you keep postponing it. Better do it tomorrow.”

“Yes, bua. I will, bua.”

I was used to obeying my maid, and Rashida was used to me carrying out her orders immediately. Even now, in the taxi, the way she had clipped my ear, despite being my maid, and now was rubbing me, demonstrated her total dominance of me. There was no deference paid to my sense of dignity or self-respect. In the back of a taxicab, a ride that I was paying out of pocket for, my maid servant had punished me, and now was stroking over my privates while I sat there helplessly letting her molest me at will. Rashida knew, and I knew, that I was smitten by her, and I would let her do anything to me. I loved her.

I started to think where we were going on this Friday night.

Actually, let’s go back twenty-four hours.

It was late last night, a Thursday night, when Rashida had told me of this party, she wanted to take me to. Like any other late Thursday nights, I was in her room.

I was standing next to her, while she was seated on the bed. I was fully naked, of course. Rashida reached out with her hand. She brushed against my balls, before wrapping her fingers around my dick. She stroked my dick a couple of times. As always, the merest touch of my maid Rashida on my body was enough to start arousing me. In fact, even the mere thought of her …

Her hands now rested on my balls.

“Baba.” Rashida asked, gently kneading my testicles. “Why are you here, naked, in my room late in the night, with your balls in my hand?”

It was a rhetorical question, but I knew I needed to answer it. As always.

“Bua,” I replied. “I am here to submit to you. I am here to be punished and corrected by you.”

I love you, my bua, I silently added. I love being in service to you, being your slave, and being punished by you. When you praise me after a good spanking session, it means the world to me. I will do ANY thing for you.

“Baba.” Rashida continued to massage my nuts. “I have ordered you never to wear underwear in the house. Can you tell me why?”

I remembered that day very well from years ago. It was the very second time I had been punished by Rashida, when she had caught me peeking at Rubina while she was showering.

Rashida had grabbed my arm and helped push me down on her lap, over her knees. Roughly she grasped my ass cheeks, positioning me till I was centered. She then clutched the waistband of my pants and pulled it down. My underwear soon followed, dropping to my ankles. My bare butt was now high up in the air. Enjoying the sight of my naked bum on her lap at her mercy, Rashida clicked her tongue.

“From now on,” Rashida commanded me, “I don’t want you to wear underpants around the house, ever! Whenever I want, I should just be able to pull down your pants or pajamas down, and I should be able to see your bare bottom, so that I can spank you.”

“Er … yes, bua.” I gulped as I recalled that memorable moment. The moment I had surrendered and become her slave. “So that, bua, whenever you want, you can just pull my pants down and give me a spanking on my bare ass.”

“Good.” Rashida stopped stroking my penis and balls, and her hands went behind me. She patted me on my buttocks. My bare buttocks.

“So, this morning,” She said, “When I came to wake you up, why were you wearing your pajamas, and underwear underneath?”

“Oh, bua.” I started to turn red. I wonder how she had known. She must have suspected, and then pulled down my pajamas to check while I had been asleep.

“I … I was … very late in returning home last night,” I mumbled, “As you know … from that graduation party. So … I just took off my pants, and put on my night pajamas, and fell to the bed. I forgot to take off my underwear … in my tiredness.”

“Do you know how I know?” Rashida asked, continuing to caress me on my bottom. I shook my head. I wasn’t going to accuse her of pulling down my pajamas!

“You must have been rubbing yourself in your sleep.” Rashida announced. “The horny little pervert you are! When I came to your room, your pajama was to your knees, and your underwear was showing. Along with your bare ass. I could see the crack of your pasa (butt).”

“Oh. I am really sorry, bua.”

“Baba, I am not finished. This morning you left the toilet seat up, and I could see your pee on the seat. Were you tired in the morning as well?”

“I am so sorry, bua. It won’t happen again, I promise. I had a really bad headache too.”

Rashida stopped patting my ass and moved her hands forward. She then held both of my balls in her hand and gave them a little tug.

“Were you drinking, baba? You know drinking is not allowed for us!”

“No, bua. I wasn’t! I swear.”

“Hmm. Baba, in your very first year as my slave, I punished you for peeing standing up. And often, throughout the years, I had to punish you for being dirty like that. Every time you say this will be the last time, and yet, baba, and I have to punish you again. And again.”

“I am very sorry, bua. I just forgot. Please forgive me, bua.”

“Hmm.” Rashida continued to play with my balls. “It’s been a while since I have caned you, baba. I am thinking whether I should, tonight.”

I gulped.

“Bua, I am your slave.” I stated the obvious. Rashida had the right to punish me as she wanted. “Please forgive me, though, bua. You know I am scared of being caned.”

“A little caning will be good for you.” Rashia replied. “And you still haven’t bought my ticket to go visit my mother.”

“I will buy it this weekend, bua, I promise.”

“Baba, bring that chair over here.” Rashida suddenly ordered, releasing my genitals from her hands. I turned to where she pointed, walked over and picked up a small but study wooden chair from the corner of the room, and placed it against the wall.

Rashida sat heavily down on the chair. Ever since the wedding of Rubina, I felt she had put on a few more pounds, and she now moved a little more slowly and ponderously. Of course, some of the fat as is wont went to her already large boobs, so one cannot really complain.

“Stand here, baba. Face the wall, palms pressing against it, and your pasa (butt) sticking out.” Rashida ordered.

Obediently, I stood beside her and pressed myself against the wall as instructed. Rashida then slipped an arm around my waist to hold me tight, while the other hand firmly cupped my butt cheeks.

“How many times have you been in this position, baba?” Rashida asked me, caressing my bottom, cupping and squeezing my ass cheeks. “Pura nangta (fully naked), held firmly by your kaajer meye (housemaid), ready to be punished on your pasa by her?”

I gulped.

“Bua,” I said. “Trust me when I say, it is my priviledge and honour to be punished by you. Bua, I love you. I hope I can continue to submit to you for many years to come!”

I meant every word. I really did.

“Hmm.” Rashida didn’t say much but continued to prolong my agony my stroking my butt cheeks. She then let go and raised her hand.

SPANK!

If I thought my abject declaration of love would entail Rashida to go easy on me, I was bound to be disappointed. A thunderous crack resulted as she struck my ass with her bare hand.

“One! I am sorry, bua, I will never leave the toilet seat up. Please spank me again.”

“You are also forgetting the fact that you were wearing your underwear at home.” Rashida reminded me.

“I am sorry, bua.”

SPANK!

“Two! I am sorry, bua. I will pee properly from now on, and I will never wear underwear in the house. Please spank me again.”

“After all these years, do I now have to come and watch you pee?” Rashida grumbled. “I am getting on in age, and I hate cleaning up your dirty washroom when you are so inconsiderate. Why can’t you remember to pee properly, baba?”

SPANK!

“Three! I am so sorry, bua. Please forgive me. I deserve to be punished, please spank me again.”

“You are a grown man. After all these years you know NEVER to wear underwear at home, and you SHOULD KNOW how to pee.”

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

For the next fifteen minutes I was spanked hard and fast. Rashida held me firmly with her non-spanking arm going around me waist, and I couldn’t squirm or wiggle as I was being punished. My buttocks were very close to her face, and she could see the results of her handiwork as she beat me again and again. As Rashida alternated between each ass cheek, she could see my bum quiver with each beating, and soon my reddened bottom was warm, and tingling.

Rashida then let go of my waist.

“Baba, go to my bed.” Rashida commanded, breathing heavily. “Put a pillow over the centre, and then lie on it, your nunu (penis) on the pillow. Make sure not to rub your little nunu on the pillow.”

“Yes, bua.” As always, I was obedient and respectful to my chubby and buxom maid servant, like a well-trained dog, even though I had just been thrashed on my ass by her. Showing my obedience, politeness, reverence, and discipline was very important. As I laid down on the bed, I could hear Rashida click her tongue with approval at the way I was obeying her instructions. This brief moment gave me a lot of satisfaction. I loved to make my beloved Rashida pleased.

Then again, if anyone could see me now! I, the son of the rich businessman, and the scion of a powerful family, was demurely lying naked, sprawled across the bed of my maid servant, on my belly, my red ass up, and presented to my housemaid for further punishment.

“Now tell me again, baba, why you are here.”

“I am here to be punished, bua. As you see fit.”

“Do you know, baba, how disgusting dried pee is on the commode seat, and how much it stinks?”

Wisely, I remained silent.

Rashida walked to over to the bed, and patted my buttocks. Then she opened her palm, and put her middle finger on my ass, and then inserted it into my asshole.

Ouch!

It pained a little, as she inserted her middle finger quite deep. Then she pulled it out and moved her hand towards my face.

“Smell it.” She commanded.

“Yes, bua.”

What could I do? It was the remnants of what was in my own asshole. There was a strong pungent aroma on her fingers.

“Lick my finger.” Rashida commanded.

“Yes, bua.”

Without thinking a second thought, I started to lick her middle finger. I saw a small smile at the corner of her lips as I slurped, licked and kissed her finger.

The finger that had been deep inside my own asshole.

Rashida repeated the act. She painfully drilled my asshole with her finger, before presenting it to me. Again and again. In total, I licked my own ass juice from her fingers six times.

“I am training you to be a thorough gentleman.” Rashida remarked. “You will never pee on the toilet seat and leave it dirty. When you are eventually married, you will be submitting to your wife. You will always be ready to be spanked by her, so you should by now have gotten used to not wearing underwear, ever. A woman likes to have her asshole licked and cleaned, so that is why I make you lick and clean my asshole – and your asshole – from time to time. You will never satisfy a woman in bed, so you have to learn to satisfy her in other ways.”

“Yes, bua.” I answered. “I know.”

What about Rubina though, I thought. I did manage to satisfy her a few times!

“Don’t think just because you made love to Rubina, you are good in bed.” Rashida commented, reading my thoughts perfectly. “Rubina treated you as a temporary thrill. You didn’t fuck her, she FUCKED you. And then I had to clean up the mess about her pregnancy.”

“Yes, bua. I am sorry, bua.”

“Ok, now get up.” Rashida ordered. She went and sat down on the chair again. “Over my knees, this time.”

As I lay across her lap, Rashida gently massaged my sore behind. Then she bent down and took off her slipper from her foot. I was going to be beaten with her chappal.

WHAP!

WHAP!

WHAP!

As she hit me, I had to count, beg for forgiveness and ask for my punishment to continue. It prolonged my humiliation, as I lay there on her knees, getting punished, again and again, my maid servant beating me with her slipper.

Rashida then touched my buttocks with her hand.

“Baba, stand up.”

“Yes, bua.”

After I stood up, Rashida put the slipper on the floor, and slipped her foot back into it. As I stood there, naked, my buttocks blistered and paining, my eyes were on her beautiful feet. Oh, how I wanted to kiss and lick those feet! It was the ultimate act of submission, to bend down on the floor, ass up, naked, and just kiss and kiss and lick each toe of her, each nail, each part of her feet, her ankle and her legs. My beautiful Rashida, however, had other thoughts.

“Baba,” My buxom maid patted her thick thighs. “My kutta (dog). Sit here. On my lap.”

“Yes, bua.” Like a little boy, I sat down on her lap, on her big thighs. Rashida’s hands automatically went to my manhood.

“There’s a party tomorrow night.” Rashida said, stroking my penis.

“Yes, bua.” I replied. My ass was smarting from just sitting on her lap. The bare skin of my blistered butt cheeks was in contact with the rough cotton sari that she wore, making my stinging pain even more acute. Rashida switched repeatedly from stroking my manhood to caressing my balls, and then back to stroking my penis, as I sat on her lap, keenly listening to her, and getting more and more aroused.

It was scene that was oft repeated in this household. Me, naked as the day I was born, in the presence of my housemaid, who was fully clothed in her sari. I had just been spanked by her, and here I was, sitting on her lap like a small boy as she toyed with my manhood.

“It’s a party thrown by a few of my … friends.” Rashida said. “These people … my friends … are like me. The party is a … femdom … party.”

“Oh!” I could only utter in surprise. Being a slave boy of Rashida for the last few years, I had learned quite a few new words and terms.

Cuckold. a man whose wife is sexually unfaithful, often regarded as an object of derision.

CFNM. Clothed Female Naked Male.

Dominatrix. A woman above all others who uses her power and sexuality to turn men into slaves.

Femdom. Female domination.

So, it was going to be a party like the ones Rashida had sometimes, when she invited her friends Farida and Nazneen, and she and our younger maid Zarine made me strip naked and serve them all, while being punished for small infractions.

“Do I know these friends, bua?” I asked in a deferential tone of respect.

“Hmm.” Rashida was now stroking my cock, which was quite hard. I was hoping I did not cum over her, but I needn’t have worried. Rashida knew exactly what my point of no return was, and she would always stop before that, waiting until I was limp, and then start stroking again. “No, baba. Except one or two, these friends you have not seen. I have told most of them about you. They are interested to meet you.”

“Oh, I see.” I nodded. “Bua, I am your slave. I will do what you tell me to. But … you know … given our family name … our position … the less people that know. I love you, bua, and I trust your judgement.”

Rashida managed a wry smile.

“It’s OK.” Rashida began to stroke me harder again. “You know in our community, secrecy is very important. If the police find out …”

Rashida left that part of her sentence unfinished. I knew what she meant. You have to remember, this was early days in India. Nowadays you can go to social media and find out people of similar interests. At that time, this was all hush hush, and people to people contacts. You had to be in a circle of trust to gain access to these parties.

“These are trusted friends.” Rashida said. “You will be safe. I want you to accompany me tomorrow to this party.”

“Yes, bua.”

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow’s night, Tarek?”

“I was going to the movies with a few friends, bua.”

“You will call and cancel, Tarek.” Rashida ordered. “I am sorry about the sudden notice but I wasn’t sure of my own attendance until this morning.”

“Yes, bua. I am your slave, bua. I will do what you say, bua.”

It’s amazing what a guy will agree to when he’s sitting naked on a woman’s lap, and she is stroking his penis, and the guy is hoping she will let him cum. I could barely concentrate on what Rashida was saying, yet I was agreeing to whatever she wanted me to.

“Bua,” I asked, somewhat timidly. “May I ask … why … you were unsure about going to this party? What made you decide to go?”

“Hmm.” Rashida paused rubbing my cock momentarily, before absent-mindedly resuming. “Baba, this party is … how shall I say … a very high society party. Most of the women who will attend are rich. Or they have rich husbands. Or powerful families. And I … you know … I am just an ordinary poor maid servant.”

“Oh.” For a moment I didn’t say anything and took it all in, before continuing, “Bua. You are no ordinary woman. To me, you are extra ordinary. I love you, bua.”

“Yes, I know, my slave.” Rashida took one of my balls in her hand and kneaded it gently. “The thing is … at these parties … everyone is an equal. Every one of the females, that is. No one cares who you are, as long as you are into … femdom.”

Still, I realized, Rashida was bound by our society’s class based system. She could never get over it or escape it. Even though at these parties, everyone who shared the kink was treated the same, still … everyone knew. They were rich house wives or career women. She … was a house maid. In an ordinary gathering, they would never even glance at her.

“So what made you decide to go?” I asked.

“There … is a reason.” Rashida mumbled. She started to stroke my cock again. I was very, very hard. “There is a reason, Tarek.”

I would never found out the reason, because suddenly Rashida stopped stroking me. Instead, she let go of my penis, and cupped my testicles in her palm.

“Do you remember your Total Slave Pledge, baba?”

I looked at her in surprise. This was something she hadn’t asked me about for quite some time.

“Baba.” Rashida gently kneaded my balls. “I asked you a question.”

“Er … yes, bua. Of course, bua.”

“Recite it to me.”

“Yes, bua.”

I cleared my throat as I tried to recollect the Pledge. It was a big chunk of words that I had committed to memory a long time ago, but I hadn’t had to recite it recently.

“I, Tarek, agree to the following.”

“Wait,” Rashida interrupted me. “From now on, you will say your full name. And of course Rubina is replaced by Zarine.”

“Yes, bua. Of course.”

“Start again.”

“Yes, bua. I, Tarek Zia, agree to the following. I will treat my maids Rashida bua and Zarine choto bua as my mistresses, forever. I will obey their every command, to the best of my ability. Failure to do so will result in strict punishments. I will submit to whatever punishment my maids mete out to me.”

“Good. Good.” Rashida gently continued to knead my balls. “Continue.”

“I … I am their total slave and my body is always available for my maids to use as they see fit. I can also be their toilet, as they wish; however I am not even worthy of drinking their urine. I am to submit to my mistresses completely. I exist only to serve them.”

I stopped and looked at my mistress. Rashida was smiling at me encouragingly. Clearing my throat again, I continued.

“Whenever my parents are not home and my mistresses command, I will be in the Total Slave Mode. This means I will ask my maids permission for every single act I do. Specifically, I will ask for permission to use the washroom. I will ask for permission before eating. I will ask for permission before addressing my maids. I will ask for permission before masturbating. I will ask for permission if I have to leave the house.”

“Good!” Rashida beamed. “Now do you remember the rest? About your behavior in the house?”

“Yes, bua.” I nodded. “I am to remain naked in the house at this time, wearing only a small T-shirt. If a guest or visitor shows up, I will ask for permission before wearing pants. During times of punishment, I will also be totally nude while my mistresses will be clothed as they wish.”

“Tomorrow,” Rashida instructed, “You will observe this conduct in the party. At the party, you will be in Total Slave Mode. Do you understand?”

“Er … yes, bua.” I nodded again. “Bua, I have a question though.”

Rashida stopped kneading my balls, and took my penis once again in her hand.

“Ask.” She said.

“Will I be totally naked at the party? Or wear a T-shirt?”

“A shirt. Most likely, though I will decide once I am there.” Rashida told me, beginning to rub my penis again. “When we travel tomorrow, you will wear a formal shirt, pants, and you will wear one of Zarine’s panties instead of your underwear.”

“Er … yes, bua.”

Zarine wore very small panties. Almost like a thong. Don’t ask how I know.

“Now continue and finish the rest of the Pledge.”

“Yes, bua.” I began to recite again, even as I was now getting very, very hard. “In the presence of my mistresses, I will cast my eyes down and not look at them in the eye unless asked to. My manner and tone will be always that of a slave girl and will reflect deference to my mistresses at all times. I also understand that my mistresses can modify this Pledge at any time they wish, and I must obey.”

“Good. Good.” Rashida seemed happy that I had remembered the Pledge completely, especially the “slave girl” part.

“Tomorrow when we leave, you will book an Ambassador taxi.” Rashida spoke again, all the while continuing to stroke me, “Your mother is leaving for the Lions dinner around 7 and then going to your khala’s place to stay for the night. We will leave at 8 pm and should be back by midnight.”

“Yes, bua.”

Rashida then finally asked me what I was hoping she would ask. “Baba, your dick is very, very hard, and your balls are very, very big. Do you need to cum?”

“YES! Oh, yes, bua, please, please, let me cum. Bua, please!”

Rashida smiled. It was a beautiful smile that lit up the whole room. It was a smile for which I would do anything.

“Since you have begged me so humbly, so nicely, Tarek Zia,” She said. “You may cum. I am going to rub you.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, bua.”

Rashida wrapped her fingers around my shaft. I knew that she took pleasure in in seeing how long she can keep me on the edge, and I had long ago accepted that it was her who will decide when I will climax. When Rashida was ready, she would stroke me until I would gasp and tense up.

As Rashida had decided that I could cum, she brought her hand up to her mouth and filled her palm with her warm saliva. I began to feel the intense sensations of her warm slippery hand engulf the head of my cock. She firmed up her grip as she moved her hand up and down my manhood. My body began to shake, and a soft moan came out from my mouth. Any moment now – I knew the feeling would be intense.

My maid could make the stroking session last a long time or she can make me climax in a very short moment. In any case, I knew I would be completely weak and gratified.

On this occasion, it didn’t take much time, and soon I was squirting my cum into Rashida’s hands, on her lap, her clothes and bed. A little bit splashed on to her boobs and lips as well. I was cumming for a very long time, and by the end it, felt thoroughly drained. Rashida actually had to wrap her arms around my hips and hold me for some time until I recovered.

* * *

The next day was Friday. In the afternoon, I had just returned from the mosque, and after changing, and then relaxing in my room for some time, I went to the kitchen. I was hungry, and I hoped lunch was ready.

Rashida was in the kitchen, and her back was to me. She was wearing an orange sari, and I could see parts of her back, and her full waist and hips. The lower part of her sari clung tightly to her big round buttocks. As she washed something in the sink, I could see the flesh of her ample rump quiver, and part of her sari had burrowed deep into the cleft of her ass.

Oh, how I wanted to, right there, right then, kiss that ass! Kiss her feet, lick her asshole! Submit myself completely to her.

“Baba, is that you?” Rashida’s sharp ears had caught the sound of me walking into the kitchen, and she turned around to face me.

Oh, what a beautiful sight she was! As I said, Rashida seemed to have gained a few pounds recently, ever since Rubina’s wedding, and some of that fat seemed to have gone into her already huge boobs. They were barely contained in her small blouse, and I could see the outline of her nipples through the bare material of her blouse. It was a hot day, and Rashida seemed to have ditched the bra this morning.

“Bua.” I respectfully nodded, and then lowered my gaze. I could see a small smile cross my maid servant’s lips. She must have caught my leering at her big chest.

“Your mother has just left to buy a gift for her sister, baba.” Rashida informed me. “She will return in two hours. And your father’s flight is landing on Monday. So, there is no one home now except you, and us maids.”

“Yes, bua.”

“So what does that make you, Tarek?”

Er … I tried to rack my brains. It was then that I remembered parts of the Total Slave Pledge.

Whenever my parents are not home and my mistresses command, I will be in the Total Slave Mode.

“I am your Total Slave, bua.” I answered. “You are my mistress, and I am your slave. Your Total Slave. If you wish, bua.”

“Hmm.” Another smile crossed Rashida’s beautiful lips. “I am not sure if I want you to be in Total Slave Mode yet, but that was a good answer.”

“I am always your slave, bua. Totally.”

“Ok, baba.” Rashida snapped her fingers. “Show me your lowly status. Kiss my feet. Start with my left foot.”

“Yes, bua. It will be my honour to-”

“Tarek Zia! Just shut up and do it.”

“Yes, bua.”

I rushed to comply. I loved to kiss Rashida’s feet. I loved to show my submission to her. I gently knelt down in front of her, and lowered my head to her foot, and pressed my lips to her big toe. She was still wearing her sandals, so I was kissing part of her sandal as well as I kissed her feet.

Rashida continued to smile. She knew it was the ultimate sign of submission that I was kneeling on the floor, prostrate, and smooching her feet. I kissed that little space between the big toe and the next toe. It was a little smelly, and I had to press my tongue in between the throng of her sandal to lick the space, but I did. I continued to kiss and suck each toe, and the space between. I then licked and kissed her ankle, before paying homage to her heel. When she nodded, I then repeated the whole act with her right foot, slobbering over it, kissing it, and making sure to pay proper reverence to her.

I was her slave, she was my mistress. I loved to kiss her feet and pay homage to her dominance. Even though I was fully clothed, it felt as if I was naked.

Rashida bent down and patted me on my buttocks. It was her way of saying “well done slave, good job”. A sudden feeling of pride ran through me as I knew my mistress was pleased with me. I started to stand up.

“Remain kneeling, Tarek.” Rashida ordered. I acquiesced and went back to my position, remaining on my knees, gaze downwards.

Rashida then turned around so that her back was to me. My chubby maid servant bent down, gathered up the folds of her sari and slowly started to raise it until her bum was completely exposed. It was a beautiful and cherished sight I had seen many times before.

“Take your finger and pull my panties to one side.” Rashida ordered. “And then, lick my asshole, Tarek.”

“Yes, bua.”

I did as she ordered. I used my little finger to gently pull her panties towards one side, exposing her dark brown anus. I then placed one hand on each of her ass cheeks, while keeping that one finger holding her panties at bay, and then slowly, gently pressed her giant ass cheeks apart. As her anal region became more and more pronounced, I leaned forward and buried my face into the crack of my housemaid’s big butt.

The pungent aroma of Rashida’s posterior filled my nostrils as my tongue flicked out, licking around her rectum. Rashida let me literally suck ass for a ten minutes before she snapped her fingers and told me to stop.

“Yes, bua.” I remained kneeling as Rashida adjusted her sari, and turned around to face me.

I felt Rashida’s fingers on my ear, and then felt my earlobe being pinched harshly between her forefinger and thumb. I felt my face starting to flush and go red with embarrassment. Despite the years of service to Rashida, I still felt very much humiliated every time my ear was pulled or I got slapped.

“You came home an hour ago. Yet you are only coming now to greet me.” Rashida told me sternly, twisting my ear. I blushed as my maid Rashida continued to give me a kaandola.

“I am sorry, bua.” I apologized. “It will not happen again.”

“Hmm.” Rashida powerfully held my ear in a vice like grip. “See that it doesn’t.”

“Yes, bua.”

“Did you buy my train ticket, baba?”

“Oh … I will … tomorrow. I promise.”

Rashida sighed. It was clear that she wasn’t expecting this answer. I felt her slowly let go of my ear. Before I knew what was happening, her hand had fiercely struck my cheek.

SLAP!

Again.

SLAP!

Again.

SLAP!

Again.

SLAP!

She then caught hold of my ear again.

“And do remember to buy my ticket home tomorrow.” She ordered, giving me another firm pull on the ear.

“Yes, bua.”

She then finally let go of my ear, and ordered, “OK, my slave, stand up.”

“Yes, bua.”

Rashida seemed to take a moment to decide how she wanted to proceed.

“OK, baba. Strip! Completely! Not a single stich of clothing on your body.”

“Yes, bua.”

In the hot afternoon, I was now standing stark naked in my own kitchen, standing demurely in front of my fully dressed buxom housemaid, waiting for her next instruction. Rashida then raised her hand and caught hold of my poor ear again.

“Come.” She said, giving my ear a slight pull.

“Yes, bua.”

I, naked, was led by my ear, pulled by my maid, through the dining hall, through the corridor, and towards the servants’ quarters. Zarine was mopping the floor in one of the rooms, and she saw me like that, fully nude, and Rashida pulling me firmly by the ear, and she giggled. Zarine didn’t do anything though, as Rashida led me all the way to and into the maids’ bathroom.

I was led to the commode, and then finally Rashida let go of my now very stinging, and very red, ear.

“Pee.” She commanded, patting me on my rump. “Now!”

“Yes, bua.”

Like the trained dog that I was, I immediately complied with my maid servant’s order. I positioned myself, held my penis, and then began to urinate. It had been a while since I had showered and used the toilet, and my bladder had been near full. The urine hit the inner walls of the commode with a vengeance.

“Good.” Rashida remarked. Even as I urinated, I felt her gently pat me on my buttocks again.

Well done slave, good job!

I cannot tell you how good it felt to relieve myself like that in front of Rashida. Gone were any notions of decency or shame I once had. I was shamelessly peeing in front of my maid servant. It is an enormous sense of liberation, yes, liberation, when you can shamelessly urinate in front of another woman; a woman to whom you have willingly surrendered yourself to. I was naked, urinating, and completely vulnerable; yet I felt a sense of comfort, a security that can only be felt when you submit yourself completely to your beloved. Rashida had me at her mercy and yet I trusted her. I would do anything for her. When she told me to take a piss, I didn’t even hesitate. I embraced the golden shower and threw out my masculinity. I was her bitch.

At that moment, the only thing I could feel was how completely I was under her power, and how I loved it. I loved the fact that she was making all decisions for me, and I didn’t have to think. It was, as I said, liberating.

As I was finishing up, I remembered Rashida’s words when she had started to spank me last night.

Baba, this morning you left the toilet seat up, and I could see your pee on the seat.

When I was finished, I made sure to clean and dry myself up well, and then I even wiped the toilet area clean, and put the seat down.

“Good.” Rashida remarked. Once again, she patted my bottom appreciatively. “You are not repeating your mistakes.”

“Thank you, bua.”

“Now turn and face me, Tarek.”

“Yes, bua.”

Rashida once again took my penis in her hands.

“Tonight at the party,” She said, calmly stroking me, “You will be naked for a good amount of time. Maybe you will be wearing your shirt, and maybe not. What I am sure is that there will be no pants.”

“Er … yes, bua. As you command me to, bua.”

Rashida didn’t say anything, but she then took my balls in her hand.

“I want you to shave down here completely.” She ordered, kneading my balls. “Not a single hair in your pubic area.”

“Er … yes, bua.”

Rashida let go of my balls and looked at me.

“Kiss my lips.” She commanded.

“Oh, yes, bua!”

I was elated. Recently, ever since the incident with Rubina, from time to time, when Rashida was extra pleased with me, she would permit me to kiss her on the lips. Of course, this was rare, and I was expected to kiss her in a certain way, but still … I was going to kiss her lips!

As I had been trained by now, I gently walked towards Rashida, and then placed my hands on her hips. Holding her steady by her waist, I tenderly leaned in and placed my lips on hers.

SMOOCH!

SMOOCH!

I began to kiss her. As I did, Rashida put her hands on my buttocks, and started to squeeze my ass cheeks. I was being groped by my maid servant as I kissed her, while my hands were simply on her waist. After a little while, Rashida stopped squeezing and caressing my ass, and gave me a gentle pat on my rump. This was my signal to stop the kiss. I withdrew my lips from hers and dropped my hands to my sides.

Rashida glanced at my cock, which was now hard, and smiled.

“You like kissing my lips, don’t you, baba?”

“Oh, bua!” I looked at Rashida as if she had said the most stupid thing ever! “Which man would NOT want to kiss your beautiful lips, bua! I could kiss your lips all day!”

Rashida laughed.

“If you behave well at the party tonight,” She promised, “And if you are a good slave, then I will give you a good reward tonight.”

“Oh, thank you, bua.”

Maybe she will let me kiss her for a longer time, I thought. Or, maybe, just maybe, she will let me sleep with her and cum on her pasa again!

Rashida, however, had one final instruction for me.

“Go to Zarine’s room.” She instructed. “And wait for her there. I will let her know you are waiting for her. She wanted to punish you for some things.”

Oh, great! I wonder what I had done to offend Zarine.

“Oh. Ok, bua.”

“No need to go back to the kitchen for your clothes. Go now, naked, to Zarine’s room.”

“Yes, bua.”

* * *

I was waiting in Zarine’s room, still naked, standing in one corner with my face towards the wall, when I heard her enter the room. I wondered what I had done, and why Zarine was punishing me unsupervised. Usually Rashida treated her still as a new maid, even though she has been here for some time now, and Rashida was always present during my punishments. I heard Zarine pull a chair to the middle of the room and sit down.

“Baba.” She suddenly called me. “Please come here.”

“Yes, choto bua.”

As I walked towards her, the prominence of my turgid cock, which was still thinking about Rashida, was very apparent. Zarine smiled as my erect prick sprung out in front of me.

“Oh dear, Tarek,” she giggled. “This penis of yours is what has led to you to be in this situation.”

“Yes, choto bua.”

Zarine’s right leg was crossed over the left. She reached out to her right foot and pulled her sandal off. She then uncrossed her legs. Holding the chappal in her right hand she shifted back on the chair and then beckoned forward to me.

“Over my lap, baba. Now.”

“Yes, choto bua.”

I walked forward and positioned myself over my younger maid servant’s lap. She pulled me in tight to her, my prick rubbing against the sari on her legs. As I remained like that, positioned over her knees, she gently rubbed my buttocks with her chappal.

“When I was cleaning your room yesterday,” She said, “I found something in your gym bag. Twenty magazines, in fact.”

Inwardly I groaned. One of my friends had gotten those magazines from someone who worked in the British Council and gave them to me. I had hidden them in my gym bag. And forgetting that, I had asked Zarine to take out the dirty clothes from my gym back to be washed.

“I was looking for dirty clothes.” Zarine continued. “Instead, I found … Playboy. Penthouse.”

“I am so sorry, choto bua.” I apologized. “I didn’t really know what the magazines were until-”

“I counted twenty magazines. Twenty times two – I think forty is fair, don’t you, Tarek?”

“Er …”

I made a noise from the back of my throat, as an affirmation.

“Good.”

WHACK!

The sole of her slipper struck my ass with a good amount of force. I cried out as the pain coursed through me. My senses heightened, I swallowed.

“One!” I counted. “Thank you, choto bua. I am sorry for bringing the magazines home. Please spank me again.”

“I WILL spank you again, baba.” Zarine replied as she stroked my ass.

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

The next series of blows stung like hell. One on each cheek, quick fire. I suddenly realized I was actually sobbing. The lack of Rashida’s tender nature, her empathy, and the intensity that Zarine had built, and the fact that she was the new maid, suddenly and unexplainably prompted my tears. My maid Zarine didn’t let up. A quick stroke of my ass, her fingers now travelling between my crack and then the sandal was brought down on my bottom again twice.

“N-n-nineteen.” I began, trying to create some distraction from the intense pain and pleasure that was ravaging my senses. “I am s-s-sorry choto bua, that I subjected you to those dirty magazines. P-p-please forgive me, and spank me again.”

My maid didn’t seem impressed and slapped my now stinging buttocks again.

“I am tired of your voice, baba.” She said. “Open your mouth.”

“Yes, choto bua.”

Zarine took off her other sandal and placed it in my open mouth.

“Bite down,” She ordered. “You will hold this sandal by the straps in your teeth. Do NOT open your mouth or say another word. If you drop the sandal, I will spank you again from the beginning.”

What could I say! I was naked, lying across my maid’s lap, on her knees, getting beaten by her sandal, while holding her other dirty sandal in my mouth! I grunted and nodded my head in acknowledgement.

“Good!” Zarine gave me a quick ear pull, pinching my earlobe between her forefinger and thumb, and giving it a good twist.

WHACK!

WHACK!

I was now wriggling with the pain, even as my penis was getting achingly harder as I rubbed against the material of Zarine’s sari on her thighs.

WHACK!

WHACK!

I bucked up and down, aware now that I was rubbing, and literally wanking myself, against Zarine’s legs. Soon, I realized that Zarine knew what I was doing.

WHACK!

WHACK!

“You are a bad boy, Tarek.” Zarine spanked me again. I now realised that I’d been given quite a few extra spanks. Then she twisted my ear.

“Drop the sandal from your mouth.”

I opened my mouth, and the sandal fell to the floor. I heard Zarine putting the other sandal on the floor as well. As I lay there, whimpering, Zarine patted and caressed my butt cheeks for a while.

“Stand up!” she commanded.

Senses reeling, I stood in front of her, my cock was fat and still up right. My maid grabbed my manhood, and without any words, started to stroke me. I didn’t have time to even catch up with what was happening. Zarine was wanking me off.

“What do you say, Tarek?” Zarine grinned, as her grip on my hardness tightened.

“Er … choto bua, thank you …”

“Do you want to cum, Tarek?”

“Oh yes, bua. I … OOOOOH!”

I couldn’t control myself. Zarine’s hand was now a blur and I couldn’t hold out any longer. My cum shot out all over her, she pulled her hand right back on my prick and milked the spunk from it. I watched with awe as the milky white liquid stained and splattered her pristine black blouse, her sari, and even her face. I had never felt anything like it, the sheer power of my orgasm was mind-blowing.

My legs went. Zarine caught my body and gently brought me to the ground. She pulled me in close to her as I knelt in front. Her hand stroked my hair as my head spun.

“Shh, Tarek.” She purred as she held me. “This is going to be our little game and secret from now on. No need to tell Rashida apa.”

I looked up at her in surprise, as she brought her mouth closer to mine.

We kissed.

I was hungry for her kiss. I kissed her with such passion, I think she even she was a little surprised. She pulled back and rocked me gently.

“Shh, Tarek. Good boy. Now … you must leave… we can continue this later.”

* * *

I was terrified. I was going to a place I had no idea where, going to a party where who knows who will be attending, and I will be completely exposed for what I was – a slave to my plump maid servant. All I had was some reassurance by Rashida that no one I knew was there. I had to trust my mistress – Rashida – completely.

My thoughts turned to Zarine.

“Shh, Tarek.” She purred as she held me. “This is going to be our little game and secret from now on. No need to tell Rashida.”

I had kissed her. I had kissed her and she had kissed me back. And she had stroked me to an orgasm. What secret did she want to have with me, away from Rashida? It was so confusing.

With Rubina, I knew exactly what my place was. I was her bitch and she would punish me. With Zarine, I was getting mixed signals. She did punish me, but also made me cum. Many times.

“Dada, we are nearly there.” Suddenly the taxi driver announced. It was the first thing he had said since the start of the ride. “Maybe another 10 minutes.”

“No problem,” I managed to mumble. As I said there, I felt Rashida stroke me again.

“Baba.” She whispered into my ear, leaning in. “You have remembered my instructions to shave, correct?”

“Er … yes, bua.” I replied, getting hard as Rashida continued to stroke me. “My cock and balls are completely smooth, bua. I made sure there is no pubic hair left.”

“Good. Good.” Rashida patted me softly, and then withdrew her hand.

“We are here.” The taxi driver announced, stopping outside an apartment block.

* * *

“Come with me,” Rashida instructed.

“Yes, bua.” I replied. I had no choice of course, but to be dependent on her, and follow her. Ten minutes before, I was completely lost in the alleyways, but Rashida knew her way to a villa. The place where a secret party of kinky people was being held.

A girl had opened the door and spoke softly to Rashida. It was evident that she was asking for a code word, that Rashida gave. After some time, the door was fully open, and we were let in. It was a big house and the girl disappeared somewhere. And now, in that very huge house, again it seemed like a maze, but Rashida appeared to have come here before, many times. She knew her way around.

“This is the clothes change room.” She said, leading me to a big walk-in closet. “Help me take off my burkha.”

“Yes, bua.”

Obediently I helped Rashida out of the black cloak like garment. Her bright yellow sari lit up the room. The way the sari covered her and also exposed her was magical. It wrapped itself tightly around her big hips and buttocks, before exposing her cubby tummy and waist, and then crept up between her giant breasts and over her shoulder. She simply looked radiant. I wanted so badly to kiss her on her cheeks, but I restrained myself. Instead, I followed her instructions and hung the burkha on a hanger and then placed the hanger on one of the rails.

“Now take off your pants.” Rashida ordered. “And take off Zarine’s panty also. I want you fully naked from the waist. Hang your pants here.”

“Yes, bua.”

I began to strip. Wordlessly I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants and pulled down my zipper. Then I pulled my pants down to my ankles and got out of them. I took a hanger, and hung my trousers there. Then, similarly, I got out of the thong-like panty that I was wearing, and which belonged to Zarine, and hung it on the same hanger. I was now standing in the room, dressed in only my cotton shirt, naked from the waist and below. A small, gentle breeze made contact with my exposed genitals.

“Rashida, is that you?” Suddenly a voice rang out. Some other lady was walking into the change area!

“Nazneen!” Rashida squealed. “So nice to see you! I was hoping you would come!”

The two ladies rushed to each other and hugged. I stood there, embarrassed, semi naked, as I watched Nazneen and Rashida exchange kisses on each other’s cheeks. Damn! I wanted to hug and kiss Rashida like that. Nazneen, I saw, was a tall lady, and somewhat slim, though she was starting to let go a bit. She was same age as Rashida, but considerably fairer in complexion, and had a chubby face. She was dressed in a very expensive chiffon sari.

It was interesting. Looking at Nazneen, I could tell that she was a very rich lady. Probably the wife of a senior executive or something like that. And here she was, fraternizing with a house maid as an equal. Since the ladies seem to know each other well, they must also know their differences in the social ladder here in India. Yet, at least in this party, I guess one’s social standing was ignored, as long as you were into the kink of femdom.

“And this must be your boy toy.” Nazneen, her arm still wrapped around Rashida’s waist, turned and gave me a derisive look. “Your slave boy … what did you say his name as – Sarim?”

“No, his name is Tarek. Yes, this is him.” Rashida beckoned me with a finger. “Tarek! Come here.”

“Yes, my dear bua.”

Demurely I walked up to the two ladies. Nazneen glanced at me up and down. I felt embarrassed to be naked like that, waist down, in front of her, but I knew what I was in for. I just wished Nazneen was not someone who knew my mother.

“He is not … very … well built … down there, is he?” Nazneen finally remarked. I cringed as both the ladies burst out in laughter.

“No, he’s not.” Rashida answered. “Thankfully, he has other talents.”

“Does he suck ass?”

“Oh yes. And very well, too.”

Again both the ladies shared in a knowing laugh.

Rashida, now standing next to me, held my penis with her hand. She wrapped her fingers around my shaft and gently rubbed the tip of my manhood with her thumb, and then turned to Nazneen.

“It’s a small penis, for sure.” Rashida commented, making me squirm in shame. “Small, functional … and I find it cute that Tarek is proud of it.”

My disgrace was amplified as Nazneen burst out laughing.

“Well, as long as he serves you well.” Nazneen replied, walking in closer, until both the ladies pressed against me. “May I examine it, Rashida?”

It.

My penis.

“Of course, Nazneen.”

Rashida let go of my member. Laughing, Nazneen now took my member in her hand, gently kneading my balls, and stroking me softly, while watching my reaction.

“I guess you got him well trained.” She remarked. “He will only cum when ordered.”

“Absolutely.” Rashida was confident. “And moreover, I know exactly when to stop.”

Nazneen continued to stroke me. My cock was now painfully throbbing, aware that it was being excited, but also nervous. I did not want to cum, and ruin Rashida’s reputation.

Nazneen let go of my penis. I suddenly felt Rashida’s hand on my ear, as she gave me a powerful ear twist.

“Baba.” Rashid ordered, pinching my earlobe tightly. “Thank Nazneen for stroking your little nunu.”

“Yes, bua.” I turned to face Nazneen, even as Rashida continued to hold my ear. “Thank you, apu, for stroking my small nunu.”

Nazneen grunted. I wasn’t even worth an acknowledgement. Rashida let go of my ear, and her hands went to my buttocks. She gave me a gentle pat on my bottom.

I knew that pat. It was a “well done” pat. I felt happy – my mistress Rashida was pleased with me. If I was a dog my tail would have been wagging.

“Come, baba.” Rashid told me, once more patting me on my bare ass. “Let’s go join the party. Everyone will want to meet you, and your little nunu, after hearing so much about you.”

* * *

It was like any other high society party. There was a table in one corner full of food. It was mostly hor d’oeuvres, small snacks such as bite size samosas, pastries and so on. There were juices, water, and of course, drinks. The lighting was dim party lighting, and a soft ghazal song was playing somewhere.

There were around eight women already seated when Rashida, Nazneen and I entered the main room. The women were all elegantly dressed, and either were sipping tea or a drink, or had a small plate of food in their hand and enjoying some boisterous conversation. From what I could tell, they were of a diverse range of ages – from mid-thirties to mid-sixties.

Behind each of the women, I saw the slaves. Five were men, and to my surprise, three were women. I guess some of the ladies liked their slaves to be females as well. The slaves were all naked. Couple of the guys had shirts on, like me, but the rest, including the three women, were all completely naked. They were not just all standing there, of course, some were busy serving their mistresses, by either holding their plate, or pouring them a drink, or serving the food, or simply kneeling by their feet and massaging, or even kissing, their feet.

“Rashida!” One of the ladies stood up, beaming with a big smile. “Finally! You are here!”

The two ladies hugged and kissed. Rashida turned to me.

“Baba, this is Rekha. She is the owner of this house, and our hostess for tonight.”

“It is nice to meet you, Rekha didi.” I greeted her, slightly lowering my head as a mark of respect, as I had been taught. I also used the term ‘didi’, which is how you can respectfully address Hindu women, as opposed to ‘apa’, ‘apu’ or ‘baji’, which are used for Muslim ladies.

“I am happy to be here.” I added.

“Rashida, may I?” Rekha nodded at me curtly, before turning back to my maid.

“Of course, Rekha,” Rashida answered. “Baba, come and stand here.”

Once more I was subject to examination by another lady. Rekha held my penis and stroked me a few times, before taking a closer look at the head of my cock.

“I am always fascinated by a circumcised cock.” She said, as she played with my balls. “Also, I thought Muslim men are usually decently endowed. This one seems to be the outlier.”

There were a couple of sniggers and giggles from the other ladies.

“He has other talents, despite a smaller penis.” Rashida remarked. “Sucking my anus, for example.”

“Ah, that’s a good talent.” One of the other ladies, a younger one who I later would find out was named Raveena, remarked. “For the life of me I can’t get my husband to lick me properly to an orgasm. Asshole OR pussy!”

“Indian men!” Rekha snorted. “They can only think of cumming, nothing else!”

There were murmurs of agreement from the other ladies.

Rekha stopped examining my genitals.

“Nice to finally see your boy in the flesh, Rashida.” Rekha remarked. “Thanks for bringing him in today. We will have some fun!”

Rashida grinned, and then walked up to stand beside me. She then reached up and caught hold of my ear.

“Come, baba!” She said, giving my ear a slight twist.

Pulling me very firmly by the ear, Rashida then introduced me to each of the ladies, one by one. This seemed to be how it went at these parties – a new slave was always introduced to the female dominants. Each lady, after politely asking permission from Rashida, would examine my penis. As far as I could tell, most of them were Hindus; perhaps they were not used to seeing an uncircumcised cock. Each of the ladies took a close look at the bulbous head of my manhood, and commented on the size of my balls as they kneaded my testicles.

“He has nice big balls, Rashida! So much cum!”

“He does have a big load when he cums.” Rashida agreed. As she was still holding me by the ear, she gave it a slight twist. “Thank her for praising your balls, baba.”

“Yes, my dear bua.” I agreed, and then told the lady who was holding my balls, “Thank you, didi.”

The next lady commented on the turgidity of my cock.

“I like how firm his penis is, even if it is small.”

Again I had to thank her in a similar fashion. I also had to thank each lady after they had finished examining me. Rashida kept her vice like grip on my ear as I was led from women to women.

“Look, it twitches as I touch it. So cute!” One of them said, as she touched me.

As each lady inspected me, I also kept an eye on the slaves. All of them tried not to show it, but they were jealous as their mistresses examined my private parts. For some of the men who were slaves, it was their wives who were their mistresses, and now their wives were holding and playing with another man’s cock. For some reason, this made me feel proud, even as each lady made fun of my small size.

To be honest, Rashida commenting on the size of my manhood did not discourage me anymore, even as I played along. I was now confident of my penis. I guess fucking a lady has that effect on a man. Ever since I had lost my virginity, and had sex with Rubina, I had a new level of confidence that I never had before. No matter how many times I was punished or scolded, and told I have a small dick, I remained … what was the word … cocky.

As I was presented to the last lady, the young Raveena, she had a different request.

“With your permission, Rashida apa. Tarek.” She commanded. “Turn around, and bend over, please.”

“Yes, Raveena didi.”

Rashida laughed, and released her tough grip on my ear. Though mortified, I immediately obeyed Raveena. I turned around and bent over, so that my ass was now protruding and visible. I could feel the eyes of all ladies in the room – and their slaves – all were looking at my exposed butt cheeks and my ass hole.

“Oooooh Tarek!” Raveena murmured. “What a sight!”

“He has a nice big pasa.” Rekha remarked. “Tight buns. Must be fun to play with.”

“Do you spank him often, Rashida apa?” Raveena asked.

“Oh yes.” Rashida grinned, and then turned to her friends. “Would you ladies care for a demonstration?”

* * *

The party had already been in full swing, but now was really getting into the “fun” part for the femdom ladies. The house had an area below the ground floor that was the “Dungeon”. This is where the ladies would take their slaves and ‘play’ with them. However, I was now the new attraction, and protocol was abandoned for some time. I was going to be spanked right there, right in the living room on the main floor, and NOT in the Dungeon. As Rekha pulled a chair and placed it in the centre of the room, everyone was watching expectantly.

“Tarek Zia.” Rashida came around and now stood directly in front of me. Her hands were now gently caressing my genitals. My cock was getting harder as she played with my balls. “I am going to spank you now.”

I gulped.

“I am your slave, my dear bua. You have the right to spank me anytime, anywhere, my lovely bua.”

A couple of the ladies smiled appreciatively at my deferential words.

“Does he always call you ‘dear’ and ‘lovely’, Rashida apa?” Raveena asked.

“Yes.” Rashida continued to play with my balls, making me harder and harder. “Do you know … he is ‘in love’ with me … as he has claimed many times?”

A few of the ladies laughed. Thankfully, I noticed Rashida did not.

“I allow him call me ‘dear’ and ‘lovely’ and other such terms of endearment.” Rashida softly stated. “He loves it. I think it gives him a cheap thrill. It also reminds him who the slave is.”

“I will always be your slave, my beautiful bua.” I declared, somewhat boldly. “I will always love you.”

“Yet you, my slave, still did not purchase my train ticket.” Rashida rebuked me, completely ignoring my professing of my love for her. She continued kneading one of my testicles on her palm as she scolded me.

“Er … yes, bua. I am sorry about that, bua. I promise I will buy it tomorrow.”

Rashida gave my penis a final tug, and then sat down heavily on the chair.

“That doesn’t make me happy, Tarek.” She looked up at me. “Come here. Put yourself over my knees.”

“Yes, my beautiful bua.”

As I put myself over on her lap, across her knees, with my naked buttocks sticking up, I heard one of the ladies whistle. A few others giggled and hooted. Even the slaves were watching.

Rashida rested her hands on my buttocks.

SPANK!

It was without any warning, or any preamble. The strike was sudden, and the noise was like a rifle going off.

“One.” I counted. “I am sorry, bua. I will buy your ticket tomorrow. Please spank me again.”

SPANK!

“Two.” I counted. “Please forgive me, my dear bua. I promise to get your ticket tomorrow. Please spanked me again.”

SPANK!

It was absolutely quiet – pin drop silence – in the room, as Rashida spanked me again and again. Everyone, from all over the house, had gathered to watch. The only sound that could be heard was the sharp cracking noise as Rashida’s hand hit my butt cheeks, again and again, and the intake of breath by the spectators at each hit, and then my meek apology after each beating.

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

After about ten or twelve spanks, I felt Rashida pause. She rested her hands on my butt cheeks, gently caressing them. It felt so nice, to lie there, and have my mistress touch me like that lovingly. Never mind that I was lying on her lap, almost naked, getting a beating, in front of other people.

“I have been your mistress for over five years now, baba.” She said. “Or maybe six years, I think. In all those years, I did not train you to be lazy or disobedient. Did I?”

“Er … no, my beloved bua.”

“Yet … here we are.”

“I am sorry, bua.”

“Keep quiet!”

Rashida cupped one of my butt cheeks strongly.

“In fact, Tarek, I don’t want to hear your voice, really. You have caused me so much pain by delaying this order.”

“Bua. Please forgive me. I … I am really …”

“So,” Rashida interrupted me. “I don’t need to hear you count, or thank me, or ask for another one.”

“Er … yes, my dearest bua.”

“I am going to spank you, and spank you hard, and spank you fast. These ladies want to see your ass red. Is that right, ladies?”

There was some hollering and cheering. Perhaps some of the drinks were starting to have its effect.

Rashida’s finger traced its way on my bum, before she raised her hand.

SPANK!

Her hand came down fast on my left butt cheek, causing me to yelp in pain.

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

“Will you buy my ticket tomorrow, Tarek?”

SPANK!

“OWWW! Yes, bua.” I gulped. “I am sorry for being lazy.”

SPANK!

SPANK!

“You should listen to me the instant I speak.”

“Yes, bua.”

SPANK!

Rashida stopped her spanking for a moment and squeezed a portion of my right bum.

“Does that hurt, Tarek?”

“Er … yes, bua. Please forgive me.”

SPANK!

SPANK!

Each spank hit me before the sting from the previous one yet had to die down. There was almost no time in between; Rashida hit me quickly, one after the other.

SPANK!

SPANK!

“Do you think you have learnt your lesson now, Tarek?”

“Yes, bua.”

“Ok, stand up, baba.”

This room was full of women, many of them from rich, powerful and respectable families. I am sure many of them probably even knew my mother. They must be smirking inside, seeing me like this – butt naked, embarrassed, ashamed and humbled. My bottom was on fire and paining with a stinging pain after the thorough beating administered by my maid servant. I was sniffling, trying to hold back tears. My eyes were gazing at the floor in humiliation and embarrassment, unable to meet Rashida’s look. Or anyone else’s look in the room.

In the eyes of these ladies, I was no longer the rich son of a rich family.

I was a spankedboy.

* * *

The party was going on full swing. A few more ladies had come by, with their slaves, and I could see that Rashida knew almost everyone. It seems as if she had attended these many times before. Most of the crowd seemed to know about me, and were interested to see (and examine) me when Rashida would talk to them.

I was by her side almost all the time. When she had finally taken her seat, I was sent to fetch some food and drinks for her.

“Here you go, my dear bua.” I said, bringing a small plate of some snacks that I knew she would love, along with a glass of fresh mango juice. As I handed her the plate, I knelt down on the floor beside her, still holding the glass.

“Baba, put the glass on this table.” Rashida ordered.

“Yes, bua.”

Rashida then pointed to her feet.

“Crouch down here, baba.” She ordered. “I need a footstool.”

“Er … yes, bua.”

I knelt and bent down on the floor. Lowering my head, I touched my lips to her feet, kissing both of her ankles. I then crawled on my haunches, going as low as possible. Rashida then raised her feet, and placed them on my back.

I, the son of a respected family, heir to businesses in multiple cities, was now being used by my maid servant as a footstool while she ate hor d’oeuvres at a high society party.

I remained like that for a long time, bent over, ass in the air, with Rashida’s feet on my buttocks, as she slowly ate and chatted with other women. Then, as my muscles were beginning to cramp up, my buxom maid bent down and smacked me on my ass.

“Turn over, baba. Lie down flat, on your back.”

“Yes, my dea bua.”

This was more comfortable for me, even though I was facing up at the ceiling, my turgid penis now exposed, and Rashida’s feet were on my face. As Rashida sat there, she would occasionally press down her feet on my lips and cheeks, or sometimes bend over and brush her fingers against my penis for a bit, before moving on.

“Why do you call him ‘baba’, Rashida?” One of the ladies who had just come in had sat down beside Rashida asked her. She was somewhat older and chubbier. Her own slave, an older gentleman, fully naked, was beside her, kneeling on the floor, holding her plate.

“It’s what I had always called him, Supriya di.” Rashida replied nonchalantly. “It suits us, I guess.”

Supriya turned to her own slave.

“Go get me a drink.” She ordered.

“Yes, darling.”

Rashida had a smile.

“Your slave – your husband – still calls you darling.”

Supriya had to grin.

“I guess … it suits … us!”

Rashida bent down, and grabbed my ear.

“Baba, get up. On your knees.”

“Yes, bua.”

“Crawl here and worship my feet.”

“Yes, bua.”

I spent the next ten blissful minutes happily bent over, prostrated, ass up in the air, kissing and licking Rashida’s feet. I dutifully kissed each toe, licked between the toes, kissed her ankles, her heels and licked under her feet.

Finally Rashida had enough. She reached out and cupped one of my ass cheeks.

“Tarek.” She said, patting my buttocks appreciatively. “You can get up now. Spend some time talking with the other slaves, and eat and drink too. But whenever I call you, come back here immediately.”

“Yes, bua.”

* * *

“Tarek!”

It was a sharp call, and immediately got my attention. Rashida sounded angry, and she looked angry.

Immediately I knew why. I had been talking to Naila, one of the slave girls (and who was totally naked with her big, pierced tits hanging about), and had completely neglected to pay attention to my duties. I was a servant, and whenever my mistress called, I had to answer. I was in too deep a conversation and hadn’t noticed that Rashida had been calling me a couple of times.

“Excuse me.” I told Naila, who nodded understandingly. I immediately rushed to Rashida.

“I am sorry, bua.” I apologized as I immediately stood in front of my maid. “I am here now.”

Rashida was seated on a sofa, and an older lady was seated next to her. She was heavyset lady, chubby, and had white hair and a gold rimmed spectacles perched on her nose.

“Beena.” Rashida turned to the lady. “How many times have I called Tarek here?”

“You called for him at least three times, Rashida,” Beena sweetly answered, looking at me with an evil smile.

“Would you say, Beena, that a sub, behaving properly, would let his mistress call him three times before answering?”

“No, Rashida, I wouldn’t.” Beena answered.

Rashida looked at me.

“I am so sorry, bua.” I repeated, glancing down. “I was talking with Naila, and this room is loud, so I couldn’t hear.”

“Kneel.” Rashida ordered.

“Yes, bua.”

At once, without saying anything more, I knelt down in front of my maid.

SLAP!

It was a sharp slap, and for a second, all conversation in the room seemed to have stopped. Everyone was looking at Rashida … and me. I was naked from the waist, kneeling down in front of my house maid. And I was being slapped … in front of everyone.

Even Naila.

“One. I am sorry, bua.” I apologized. “I really should have been paying more attention. Please forgive me. I deserve another slap.”

SLAP!

“Two. I am really sorry, my beautiful bua.” I apologized again. “You have trained me better than this. I really should not have been distracted. Please forgive me. I deserve another slap.”

SLAP!

“Three. Please accept my apologies, bua.” I repeated, again. “I really should have responded on the first call. Can you forgive me, please, my dear bua? Please slap me again.”

“Three is enough for now.” Rashida replied. “Now, stand up.”

“Yes, bua.”

As I stood up, I could hear that the room was loud again. Conversations were flowing. It seemed that a new sub getting a little punishment in the living room was a common occurrence in this party. Still, I was blushing a bright red.

Rashida played with my penis for a little bit before issuing me a command.

“Get me a glass of Coke, with ice.”

“Yes, at once, my bua.”

I got the drink, knelt and presented it to her. Rashida took it, and then turned to me.

“Go.” She said, dismissing me. “Finish your conversation with Naila. But if I call you again, come back immediately.”

“Er … yes, bua.”

Naila had a grin as I walked back towards her.

“Got into a little trouble, did you?”

“Er …” I blushed, finding myself unable to meet her gaze. “You could say that.”

“She slapped you hard.” Naila commented. “And yet you took it well. Looks like she has you well trained to take a beating. I could never take a slap like that.”

“I guess.” I answered, not knowing what to say. “It was wrong of me not to pay attention. I fully deserved those slaps.”

“Yes, you did.” Naila grinned. “Remember, we are slaves. This is a femdom party. It is for their enjoyment. Come, let me introduce you to the others.”

* * *

As the night dragged on, the party started to thin out a bit. Some of the people had to leave; they had come here from far. Meanwhile Rashida showed no such inclination to leave. Besides, it was only 10 o’clock.

I could see that some of the ladies had been disappearing with their slaves for a bit, only to reappear after about twenty minutes or so. When they would return, often their slaves would be holding back tears, or rubbing their bottom. I could see many of them sported marks on their buttocks – lashes, caning and whipping. It was clear where they were gone – to the Dungeon. I wondered if Rashida would be taking me to the Dungeon sometime.

For the last thirty minutes I had been beside her. Either serving her food or drink, or being her footstool. Or simply kneeling beside her. Right now I was standing in a corner, and Rashida was talking to a young lady.

“No,” Rashida was telling the young woman. “Ear pulling is a very effective punishment. It makes these men understand their mistake easily.”

“Oh,” The young lady replied, “My husband is very aggressive. He will normally shake me away. I can never give him a good ear pull.”

“Never give into your husband’s aggression.” Rashida said. “Here, let me show you.”

Rashida turned around to look for me. I saw her looking and immediately stepped forward. I didn’t want to be slapped again, publicly.

“I am here, bua.”

“Good.” Rashida reached out and caught hold of my ear, giving it a hard twist. I could not help but give a sudden yelp.

“See how firmly I am holding his ear.” Rashida demonstrated to her companion. “If your husband is aggressive, do not give in. Maintain a firm grip.”

Rashida then suddenly pulled my ear. I had no choice but to go where she was leading me.

“See how he is subdued by me.” Rashida pointed out. “When I punish Tarek, I pull his ear hard. You can also twist it – like this – or pinch his earlobe – like this.”

“Wow, didi.” The young wife was amazed. “You know so much. But … didi … is pulling ears bad for health?”

Rashida laughed.

“Oh no!” She answered. “Ear pulling helps to rejuvenate the brain. Why do you think teachers in this country use it as punishment? If you are punishing someone, remember to pull their ears properly. Make it red hot. Ear pulling is very effective for us women to keep control over our adult men!”

Rashida then let go of my ear.

“See how red his ear is.” She said.

“Yes, it is indeed.” Rashida’s friend took a closer look. “I will try it on my husband tonight. Can I ask you another question, didi?”

“Of course.” Rashida cheerfully replied. For my sake, I hoped it wasn’t about another ear pull.

“Do you ever masturbate your slave, didi?” The young lady asked. “I find occasionally my husband begs me to rub him … and make him cum.”

Rashida grinned.

“You should masturbate him.” She answered. “It gives you control over him. But the way you do it is – you bend his cock back and masturbate him from behind.”

“From behind? Why, didi?”

“You see, in this position he is very vulnerable as both his ass and balls are easily accessible for you.” Rashida explained. “The more you pull his cock back the more he will push his ass out towards you to ease the strain. This position also makes it impossible for him to pump his penis against your hand, so you are in full control of what stimuli he receives.”

“Oh, that makes full sense.” The other lady replied. “Speaking of my slave, let me go look for my husband. Excuse me, didi.”

As her friend left, I turned to my maid servant.

“Bua,” I requested, respectfully. “May I rub my ear?”

Rashida smiled appreciatively.

“You may, boy.” She remarked. “And after that, go again and wait for me. When I need you, come forward.”

“Yes, bua.”

“Actually, wait.” Rashida seemed to change her mind. “Tarek, come here. Go to my chair. You will see a plastic bag. Rekha had just given me some new toys. Bring them here.”

“Yes, bua. Er … toys, bua?”

“Yes, toys.” Rashida grinned. “Tarek, we are going to the Dungeon.”

* * *

I followed Rashida all the way, carrying the plastic bag with me. I didn’t even want to think what was inside. Rashida walked down slowly a flight of stairs, and then another – so we were in a basement area. It was a huge space. Dimly lit with soft red mood lighting, dark walls, and a soft ambient music playing somewhere. There was a lady at the entrance, who I later found was called a Dungeon Master (or Mistress).

Rashida nodded to her, and that lady nodded back, and we entered the Dungeon.

As I said, the Dungeon was huge. It was further broken up into small rooms, and an open area. There were some bars fixed onto the walls, some benches, some stools and so on. I also saw a few cages in one of the rooms. Half the rooms were occupied, and in the open area, I saw a man tied to a bench, and one lady was flogging him.

A few more people suddenly exited from one of the rooms. There were now about ten other people in the space. Rashida made her way to the open area, and I followed. There was a small chair in one empty corner, along with a small table, and Rashida made her way there. She sat down heavily on the chair and looked up at me.

“Come here, Tarek.” She ordered. “Stand beside me.”

“Yes, bua.”

More people were entering the Dungeon.

I walked up to beside my beautiful maid. Rashida took the bag from my hands and put it on the floor. She then reached out and cupped my testicles in her palm.

“How does it feel, Tarek,” My busty maid asked. “To be naked in such a high society party, in front of all these ladies?”

“It’s strangely exciting, bua.” I was honest, as I bit my lip. “I think a few of these ladies might know my mother.”

… I should say there is no guy on the list – that you know …

Rashida grinned but didn’t say anything. She continued to knead my balls. I noticed that the Dungeon was suddenly quite occupied. Some slaves were being tied to some of the implements, others had already begun to be punished, but quite a few were onlookers. Since we were in the open area, they were free to see us.

“Your balls feel unusually light tonight, baba.” My buxom maid suddenly raised an eyebrow. “Did you have a sneaky wank when you were in the shower before the party?”

I nervously bit my lip.

“Er … no, bua. You know I will always ask you for permission.”

It was the truth. I hadn’t cum – Zarine had made me!

“Hmm. That’s true.”

Then, right in front of all the people there, in front of all these high society ladies who probably knew our family, for the next forty minutes or so, I was thoroughly punished and well humiliated by my buxom chubby maid servant Rashida.

Rashida had started by asking me if I was a bad boy and had displeased her. I knew there was only one answer to that.

“I have not been as good as I should have been, bua.” I agreed. “I didn’t follow all of your orders, so I probably need my bottom spanked.”

“I agree. Alright, take off your shirt. And then … over my knees … NOW!” Rashida smirked. “So, are you always ready for this?”

SPANK!

SPANK!

Rashida always started by spanking me with her hand. Being a big lady, she was strong.

SPANK!

SPANK!

“His bottom looks nice and red.” Someone commented, after some time.

“Yes.” Rashida replied, as she continued to beat me. “I love squeezing his butt cheeks as I discipline him. Watch how he squirms!”

SPANK!

SPANK!

“Is he ticklish?” Someone else asked.

“He used to be at first, but now he has gotten used to it.”

Then Rashida opened the bag. I gasped.

The bag was full of whips, canes, hairbrushes, spatulas and paddles. The play then began in earnest.

WHIP!

WHIP!

“Fetch me that paddle.” Rashida ordered, taking a breather. So far I had been caned and whipped.

“Yes, bua.”

WHACK!

WHACK!

My ass had started to sting, and the new paddle was quite firm.

WHACK!

WHACK!

“Watch your hands, baba.” Rashida rebuked me as I rubbed my buttocks.

“I am sorry, bua.”

“There’s a little boy in every man.” Rashida remarked, as she switched to another paddle. “That little boy needs to be taken care of. I always take care of you, don’t I, baba?””

“Yes, bua.”

“Does this pain you, baba?” She asked. I could only nod.

Rashida rubbed my buttocks.

“Which part pains, baba? This one, or this one?”

She continued to squeeze and cup my butt cheeks in between my beating.

“Let’s keep taking care of this naughty bottom of yours.”

WHAP!

WHAP!

People continued to flow in and out of the Dungeon, but there was a steady crowd watching me get a full and thorough beating on my bottom from my maid.

WHAP!

WHAP!

“That’s a hot red bottom.” Rashida remarked, as she took a breather again. “But it will become redder, won’t it?”

I didn’t answer, so I heard Rashida click her tongue in annoyance.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, baba.”

“Yes, bua.”

“Beena, hand me that spoon, will you, dear?”

So that lady Beena was now here, watching. I was definitely sure she knew my mother. Beena reached down and handed Rashida a firm wooden spoon.

“Amazing to see the son of such a respectable family here like this. On your lap, Rashida. Naked. Getting a spanking.” She remarked.

Inwardly I groaned. So Beena definitely knew who I was.

WHACK!

WHACK!

“Do you know how lucky you are, Tarek?” Beena continued, as Rashida whacked my lower thigh sharply with the spoon.

“So many little boys out there who wish … who are crying out … who desperately pray … for a strong big woman like Rashida to take care of them. And you have one in your own home.”

“Er … yes, Beena didi.” I answered.

“Rashida.” Beena turned to my maid. “Does no one in his house find out, ever?”

“They all go to bed on time, Beena.” Rashida replied. “Leaving me all alone to indulge myself with Tarek.”

WHACK!

WHACK!

After some more time, Rashida put down the spoon.

“Stand up properly, Tarek.”

“Yes, bua.”

“Have you learned what happens to you if you misbehave, baba?” Rashed asked, prodding me with her finger. “And if you fail to obey my orders at once.”

“Yes, bua.” I meekly replied. “I will get a proper spanking, bua. This, but worse.”

“Absolutely, dear Tarek.” Rashida smiled. “I hate the three Ds. Disrespect. Dishonesty. Disobedience. All of them will leads to the 4th D. Discipline.”

“Oh.” I then could not help but be a little naughty. “Is there any D of mine that you do like, bua?”

A small mischievous grin crossed Rashida’s face. I heard a snicker or two from the audience.

“You have little to offer in that department, baba.” Rashida replied, shooting me down instantly. “Stand straight, Tarek.”

“Yes, bua.”

“I am proud of you, dear Tarek. You are doing so good. Hands off your pasa, baba.”

“Yes, bua.”

* * *

The ride home was a quiet one. It was quite late at night, and the taxi driver just drove on in silence. Rashida too seemed to prefer the silence, being lost in her own thoughts. As for me, I was having a little trouble remaining seated, with every touch of the old car’s battered leather seats sending bolts of fire on my stinging buttocks, but what could I do. I could only hope there was no traffic jam and we would reach home fast.

“Baba.” Rashida told me, as we entered the house. “Go to the washroom, finish whatever you have to do there, then come to my room.”

“Yes, bua.”

“You will be naked.” Rashida ordered. “Not a single stich of clothing on your body.”

“Er … yes, bua.”

The house was eerily quiet, of course. My parents were away – with my dad being out of town and my mom spending the night at my khala’s – and I figured the younger maid Zarine was now fast asleep. Conscious of Rashida’s instructions, I changed quickly and went to the washroom. I could hear the grandfather clock in the hallway strike half past midnight as I finished peeing.

After urinating, I cleaned up, and then freshened up fast – brushing my teeth, using mouthwash, and making sure I looked and smelled nice. Good – now I could head to Rashida’s room.

Oh, wait! I just remembered. She wanted me naked!

Oh, the number of times I had walked naked from my room to hers! At least now, thankfully, there was no one else at home, and no maid was leading me painfully by the ear. I quickly put my clothes in my room, admired my stark-naked body in the mirror, and then headed to Rashida’s room.

“Come.” Rashida said when I knocked on her door. I opened the door and entered.

Rashida had also freshened up, but she hadn’t changed. All she had done was take off the burkha and the sari, so she was now in her blouse and petticoat, with her waist and tummy bare.

“Come here, baba.” Rashida ordered, turning to me. She had a lovely smile on her face.

As I stood in front of her, Rashida gently reached out and took my flaccid penis in her hand.

“Did you have fun at the party, baba?” Rashida asked me, tenderly starting to stroke me.

“Yes, bua.” I was honest. “I enjoyed being in service to you and being introduced as your slave boy.”

“Tell me more.” Rashida said, continuing to stroke me.

I cleared my throat.

“I love being your slave, my dear bua.” I told her. “I love trying to please you and being reprimanded when I don’t. At the party, I was feeling both naughty and happy… and then … I have never been punished in front of so many people by anyone! I was blushing when you made me kneel in front of everyone and then slapped me for not being attentive. I felt I couldn’t meet your gaze; I was so ashamed! When you slapped me like that, it was so humiliating!”

“Well, you deserved it then.” Rashida stopped stroking my penis and gave my balls a gentle kneading. “OK, Tarek, turn around.”

“Yes, bua.”

I turned so that my back was to her.

“Bend over, boy.”

“Yes, bua.”

I swallowed my pride and once again bent over, humiliatingly, so my ass was prominently protruding.

“How’s your buttocks, Tarek?”

“My ass seems fine now, my dear bua, but you know … on the way home as I sat in the car, there was a warm sting all over. I felt so naughty and ashamed – it was something.”

“Well.” Rashida had a triumphant note in her voice. “I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed our play and the warm stingy bottom on the way home!”

Rashida had stripped me in front of other ladies, laid me across her lap and then spanked me in front of her friends. She talked about my butt and discussed the spanking with other women, leaving me lying there, exposed, helpless. The whole experience had been so humbling. And so amazing.

“Get up and turn around,” Rashida ordered.

I was now facing my maid servant. With one hand, she grabbed my now half erect penis, and almost pulled me by my manhood towards her.

“Tell me, Tarek.” Rashida pressed her body up against me. I felt her breasts smash up against my chest, even as her left hand firmly held my dick. “What did you like today most? Was it the fact you were serving me, or was it because I punished you in front of a crowd, or the grand spanking in the Dungeon?”

I swallowed. I knew there was only one correct answer, and it was the honest answer.

“Bua.” I replied. “My beautiful bua. The whole evening, I was your slave. You were telling everyone, proudly, that I was your slave, and that I was a good slave. That is what I loved the most, my lovely bua.”

“And what about all those ladies touching you and rubbing your nunu?”

“Oh, bua.” I responded. “Yes, when all those friends of yours touched me, it was nice. It felt very erotic. But only when you touch me, only when you rub me, oh bua! That is heavenly. That is why I cannot control myself, bua. Whenever you stroke me, and only you, I have to cum.”

Rashida smiled. It looked like my answer was what she wanted to hear. It was an honest answer.

Quickly, she let go and backed away. She backed up so she could look down upon it.

“Oh Tarek, I didn’t know you would be ready so soon,” Rashida giggled. “It looks like you are in need of a good milking!”

“Oh, bua.” My hopes rose. “Can I cum now? Please?”

Rashida laughed. She then let go of my penis, which was now rock hard with anticipation, and patted my cheeks.

“Soon, boy, soon.” She smiled. “Right now, help me out of this blouse.”

I nearly came right there. Rashida wanted me to help her out of her blouse! Oh, boy!

Steadying myself, I reached out and started to unbutton her blouse. Oh, how I so badly wanted to just grab those melons and start squeezing and groping them! But I controlled myself, and slowly unbuttoned her blouse completely.

Rashida then turned around so her back was to me. She then lowered her hands and pushed them behind her. I knew what to do. Grabbing the edge of the blouse, I slowly pulled it out and off her body. I placed her blouse on one corner of her bed.

Rashida then turned around to face me again. Her small bra could barely keep her giant tits in place.

“Untie the nada of my petticoat.” She ordered.

“Yes, bua.” I could barely reply, keeping my voice steady. My hands reached down and untied the knot on the string that held her petticoat in place. With a swoosh, the petticoat fell to her ankles and onto the floor. My rotund maid was now in front of me, dressed only in a very small bra, and a panty. Rashida’s left hand reached up, and her fingers wrapped themselves around my right ear.

“Come.” She said, giving my ear a good twist, and then pulling me firmly by the ear. “To my bed.”

Once we were near the bed, Rashida let go of my ear, and then sat down on the bed, facing me. She then raised her right arm, and with the left, pointed at her arm pit.

“Lick.” She ordered.

Her one word was enough of a command to me. I bent down a little and started to do exactly what she had ordered. I started to lick her right arm pit.

I didn’t even think twice of what I was doing, even as my tongue flicked again and again, and the pungent smell of her armpit filled my nostrils. I was the son of a respectable and well-connected family, about to convocated and take charge of a big business. She was my lowly maid servant. In terms of social hierarchy, I was on top, and she was an afterthought. And here I was, licking her smelly arm pit.

Rashida lowered her right arm and raised her left. She then nodded, indicating towards her left armpit.

“Yes, bua.”

I was now licking her other armpit, tasting her sweat, and making it wet with my own saliva. Occasionally I would kiss it too.

Rashida then lowered her arm again, and I stood there, not knowing what to do, but ready to obey. Rashida nonchalantly stroked my penis a few times, before pointing at her feet and snapping her fingers.

“Yes, bua.”

Like a well-trained dog, I spent the next ten minutes licking and kissing her feet and toes.

“Enough.” Rashida snapped her fingers again. Once more I stood by her side, ready.

“Kneel.” Rashida then ordered.

“Yes, bua.”

“Eat me.” She suddenly commanded.

If I was surprised, I didn’t show it. I didn’t realize Rashida wanted an orgasm, especially now. Yet, her wish was my command.

With a finger, I gently pulled apart her panty so I could see her cunt. I could see Rashida close her eyes as my fingers brushed against her vulva. With my right hand firmly pulling her panty to one side, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against her vaginal lips. Another strong odour, coupled with her feminine heat hit me as my lips touched her skin. Rashida was already dripping wet. Her body had already started to tremble.

Rashida then reached out and grabbed my ears with each hand and started to twist them. I ignored my stinging ears as I pressed my face deep in between her inviting legs. The skin of her thighs rubbed my face as I slid my tongue between Rashida’s pussy hairs, finding her wet cunt and feeling the folds of her moist clit.

“Oh, baba. Oh, baba!”

My tongue began to work up and down her clit even as her pubic hair smashed against my face. Rashida was now pulling at my ears hard. As I continued to eat her out, Rashida’s orgasm was now rapidly beginning to build. Suddenly I felt a warm gush of fluid fill her cunt.

“OH, BABA. OH, BABA! OOOOOOOOH BABA!”

Rashida was now screaming. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I figured Zarine was now awake, surely. She was just in the next room, and Rashida was loud. My ears were already in pain as my maid kept twisting them, but now she pulled at them hard as her body went into a violent spasm. Her pussy was now leaking like an open tap, and Rashida was now shaking fiercely.

“OH, BABA. OOOOOH YEEES!! OOOOOH YEEES!! OH, BABA! OOOOOOOOH BABA!”

It was a good, long, wild, loud and passionate orgasm that finally left Rashida. My poor ear lobes! For some time, Rashida continued to cum, holding me harshly by my ears, rubbing her wet clit all over my face as her body slowly subsided. I knew what was coming next.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

Whenever I ate her out, Rashida always slapped me repeatedly after having an orgasm. It was her way of asserting back her control. After a few sharp and strong slaps, she stopped.

“I was glad you enjoyed my service, my bua.” I said.

Rashida smiled, then stood up. Her fingers lingered for a moment on my ears.

“Stand up, baba.”

With a little bit of movement, she inserted her hands into the hemline of her panties and pulled it down. Her panties then fell at her ankles.

I was staring at my maid, and her naked (and now very, very wet) snatch. I saw a smile on Rashida’s lips.

“You have pleased me today.” She said, once again giving my penis a stroke. “Come. Or should I say, cum.”

Rashida got on to her bed, and then lied down, face first, on her belly. I could see her big buttocks had some oil in them; they were glistening in the lamp’s light.

“You may kiss my pasa.” Rashida told me, as she lay there. “You can kiss my back, and even grope my buttocks. You can unhook my bra, and kiss my boobs from the side. When you are ready, you can cum on my pasa. Remember, cum ON my pasa, not IN my pasa.”

The next ten minutes were utter bliss.

I spent them on my dear, beloved, glorious bua. I kissed Rashida all over her back. I kissed her buttocks. I licked her butt hole and sucked on her anus. I kissed the side of her boobs, and kissed her on the nape of her back. I kissed her feet, her ankles, and her thighs.

It made me feel so submissive, kissing her in all those dirty places, but I loved kissing her on her big butt cheeks. Finally, when I was ready, I climbed on to her back.

If I wanted to, right there, I could have fucked her. Penetrated her. Instead, I rubbed by rock hard dick against the firm flesh of her rotund ass. Within moments, I was unable to control myself, and erupted.

My knees started to buckle. Rashida continued to lay there, and moan, as I rubbed myself against her ass, humping her like a dog. My balls tightened and my face contorted as I began to ejaculate. Oh, how I could cum! Gallons of thick, milky white semen oozed out of my penis, onto Rashida’s body, her back, her buttocks, and all over her bed sheets and still I continued to cum. My hips jerked as the last vestiges of my man juice poured out.

* * *

Normally, this is where I would end this episode. Like every other incident I have recounted – a good and long punishment session, ending with Rashida letting me cum. But something happened two days later. It was a Monday morning.

* * *

As my maid servant Rashida entered my room, and of course immediately I stood up out of respect. It was by force of habit after years of my servitude to her, despite her being my maid.

“Bua,” I exclaimed, a bit puzzled. This was daytime, and my parents were home. Usually Rashida never punished me during the day when my parents were home, so perhaps she wasn’t looking to punish me now … I could hope.

“Baba.” Rashida said nonchalantly, before turning her back to me to close the door.

She had closed the door!

Rashida was of course dressed in her usual – a coloured cotton sari wrapped around her big, chubby body, with a blouse tightly holding her big melons in, and leaving much of her midriff, tummy, navel and waist showing. As her back was to me, I could see that the sari, worn and washed many times, was showing signs of age, and had gone partly into the cleft of her buttocks.

Rashida latched the door, and then turned around to face me.

“Your mother is busy downstairs in her study on a long conference call.” She announced as she walked towards me. She then sat down on my bed.

“Come here, Tarek.” She said, beckoning at me with a finger. “Kneel here, at my feet.”

“Yes, bua.” I obediently replied.

At least she isn’t asking me to strip off my clothes! I was still in my Tshirt and shorts. I walked to where Rashida was seated and then knelt down on the floor at her feet. Respectfully I kept my gaze down.

“Bua.” I asked. “May I kiss your feet?”

It was usually how I greeted Rashida when she visited my room. I would kneel down in front of her and kiss her feet. A long time ago Rashida had made some rules on how I was to greet the maids when we were alone. With the younger Rubina (and now Zarine), I was to give them a respectful kiss on each cheek. The kiss was to be ‘respectful’ – a quick peck, nothing more. Of course, being a young man, I could hardly keep my sexual thoughts about a young girl away from my mind, so even when given a respectful kiss on the cheek I would get excited. This was how it was designed to be – I was to be sexually excited, and thus easy to control.

With Rashida, I was to kneel, bend down and kiss her outstretched feet, proving my total submission to her. After that, I was to stand up and if she wanted, give her a peck on her cheeks as well. So this is why I had asked if I should now kiss her feet.

Rashida did not reply to my question. Instead, she reached out with her left hand and firmly grasped my right ear.

“Baba.” Her voice was sad. She pinched my right ear lobe sharply between her fingers and twisted my ear. “Not only will you NOT kiss my feet now, you will not speak. I will slap you. You will not count the slaps. No need to apologize for your mistakes either. Just be silent, Tarek.”

“Er … yes, bua.”

“Quiet!” Rashida scolded, once again giving me a painful ear twist. “You idiot! I was looking forward to seeing my mother and be with her for ten days.”

Still holding my ear with her left hand, she raised her right hand.

SLAP!

Her right hand came down powerfully on my left cheek. She then raised her right again.

SLAP!

Once more she hit my left cheek. And again.

SLAP!

And again.

SLAP!

“I was really looking forward to visiting my sister on her birthday, baba.” Rashida remarked. “Now, because of your mistake …”

SLAP!

“… I cannot go to see my own mother and sister.”

SLAP!

“My mother had invited a couple of my cousins as well who live in another village. Now I will not meet them again for some time.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Do you understand how much we lower class people look forward to these trips back to our village?”

SLAP!

SLAP!

Rashida must have slapped my left cheek at least fifteen times consecutively, while scolding me. Suddenly she let go of my right ear. Reaching out with her right hand this time, she caught hold of my other ear. Giving it a sharp twist, she raised her left hand to slap my other cheek.

SLAP!

“Do you even know how it is, to be a maid, here in the city?” Rashida asked.

SLAP!

“I go for months without seeing my own family. You see your family every day. You live with them.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful to your family – to your parents – for providing a good home for me, and for sending money to help my family.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Still, I am a maid servant. I wait months to go visit my own family while cleaning bathrooms and wiping the floor of another family’s house.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“My mother and sister were looking forward to seeing me. Everyone will be there next week.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Except me.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“All you had to do was listen to me when I had asked you to book the ticket, instead of being lazy.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“I asked you to do a little thing, and you didn’t. Is that how good little slave boys act?”

SLAP!

SLAP!

Rashida then let go of my ear. My cheeks were stinging with both pain, and the shame and humiliation of being suddenly punished sharply like this by my own maid servant. When Rashida slapped me, I usually thanked her for each slap, apologized for my mistake and asked for another slap. But sometimes, when I had done something that was worthy of extreme punishment, Rashida would slap me like she was slapping me now. Continuously, without any word from me, one slap after another raining down on my cheeks. I felt I had to try and apologize and soothe her.

“Bua. I am so sorry.” I tried to apologize. “I know I messed up.”

“This is beyond messing up, baba.” Rashida shook her head. Once again she caught hold of my right ear with her left hand, and raised her right hand to slap my left cheek.

SLAP!

“Didn’t I tell you to be silent, Tarek?”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“I do not give you chores usually, baba.” Rashida remarked. “This time, I gave you one simple job.”

“Yes, bua.” I tried to apologize again. “I am so sorry-”

SLAP!

“Quiet!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Is that how someone who tells me all the time that they loooooove me, act? Keep me away from my own mother!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“When I say something, baba, I expect you to listen and obey. IMMEDIATELY!!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“I expect you to be a very good and obedient boy.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

Rashida then switched again, twisting my left ear and slapping my right cheek.

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Now I have to wait ANOTHER 3-4 weeks before I can see my family. AFTER my sister’s birthday is long gone. When my cousins are long gone.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“If your mother wasn’t home, I would have taken you naked, right now, to the kitchen, put you over the chair, and whipped you. I would have lashed you a 100 times!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“I am beyond disappointed, Tarek.” Rashida remarked. “I am just … sad. After so many years, you should know how important my mother and sister are for me.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Every year I go at this time, Tarek. THIS TIME! And yet … you … imbecile … you are the reason I can’t, this year.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

Finally, Rashida let go of my ear.

“Are your cheeks sore, Tarek?”

I nodded.

SLAP!

There was a sharp sting across my face as Rashida smacked me again.

“Well,” Rashida replied coldly, “Being slapped by your lowly maid across the face is something you should be used to by now, baba. You idiot!”

“My dear beautiful bua.” I managed to croak. “May I say something? Please!”

Rashida narrowed her eyes.

“What do you have to say, baba?”

I gathered my thoughts before speaking.

“Bua.” I said. “My lovely bua. I want to say that I know I messed up. Real bad. You have full right to punish me as you see fit. You have it anyways, bua; I am your slave. But I know I really made a big mistake, my dear bua. I am really, really sorry. I honestly didn’t think it would matter, but clearly I was wrong. You know how much I love you, bua! I would never do something to hurt you like this! I deserve whatever punishment you give me, bua. Honestly, I am so sorry.”

Rashida stared at me for a moment. Her plump cheeks were puffed, and her eyes were narrowed. Then she reached out with her left hand and caught hold of my right ear.

“You are correct, baba.” My maid servant said, giving my ear a twist. “You deserve a proper punishment.”

Rashida raised her right hand.

SLAP!

“This is a total embarrassment for me.” Rashida remarked. “Imagine calling up and telling my mother I won’t be coming because baba was too lazy to buy my train tickets!”

SLAP!

“After they had spent days coordinating every one’s schedules! My cousins work in factories and they had to get time off!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“I don’t even … I have no idea … how I can punish you enough for this!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“I want to smack you all day around just to make you understand how much you messed up!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

“You deserve this punishment, baba.”

“I do, bua, I do. I made a mistake-”

“Quiet!”

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

“What am I going to do with you, baba?”

SLAP!

Suddenly there was a small knock on the door. The door was pushed partly open, and a hand reached inside and undid the latch. My bedroom door was now pushed open. Thankfully it was the younger maid Zarine, and no one else. She walked in to see the sight of me – the son of the master of the house – kneeling at my maid servant’s feet, while she held my ear with one hand and was slapping my very red cheeks with the other hand.

“Apa.” She said, using the respectful term to address Rashida. “You are needed downstairs. You have to make tea.”

“Hmm.” Rashida gave my ear and final twist and then let go, before standing up.

“Kiss my feet.” She ordered me.

“Yes, bua. At once, bua.”

Immediately I fell at her feet, kissing each toe and licking her ankle, pressing my lips to the soles of her foot and each part of her foot. Zarine watched, amused, as I licked each part of Rashida’s right and then her left foot. Once I had sufficiently paid homage to both of her feet, I looked up again. Like a dog expecting to be pet and given a treat.

Instead, Rashida reached down and gave me a final couple of humiliating slaps.

SLAP!

SLAP!

“Tonight. My room. 1030 pm,” Rashida ordered, before turning to open the door. “Don’t be late.”

“Yes, bua.”

I thought my punishment was over for the time being. But Rashida had other plans.

“Zarine.” She ordered the younger maid. “Take baba to your room. Cane him well.”

I felt a small wave of fear suddenly pass through me. It was the same feeling I always got whenever Rashida spoke about caning me.

And this time she was asking Zarine to do it. Unsupervised.

“What if baji asks for me?” Zarine timidly asked. She knew my mother could ask for her any time.

“I will cover for you.” Rashida replied. She then cast a cold look at me.

“Just make sure, Zarine, there is some damage on that bottom of his.”

“Er … yes, apa.”

* * *

I was in Zarine’s room, and she had stripped me fully naked.

“I want you to bend over the desk, grip the seat.” She said quietly. “Stay in position until I give you permission to rise.”

There was a small wooden desk in Zarine’s room. Since Zarine was a young girl of university age, my mother had enrolled her in some classes for an education. There was a school here that educated only young maid servants. Thus, my parents had given Zarine a small wooden desk for studying.

And now that desk was a prop for her to punish me.

Dreading what was to come, I slowly bent over the old wooden desk.

“I am disappointed at what you did, Tarek.” Zarine’s voice was cold, without any sympathy. “You didn’t buy her train ticket, and now the drivers are on strike, so only those with valid tickets can go, and no new tickets are being sold.”

“I am very sorry, choto bua.” I apologized meekly. “I was going out this morning to buy, when I found out. I didn’t know they would be on strike!”

“I am going to give you ten, or maybe fifteen, strokes, Tarek, but I warn you, it will be a little harder than you have experienced from me in the past.” Zarine completely ignored my explanation and continued. “You may find it surprisingly painful, but I have decided that this is what you need. I am fully sympathetic to Rashida apa.”

The maids were sticking up for each other. I felt the soft and smooth skin of Zarine’s hand on my bottom as she braced herself.

SWOOSH!

It was a firm, and very hard stroke. Zarine wasn’t kidding. Before I could speak, she spoke.

“Remember, baba,” She warned, “Stay in that position exactly until I give you permission to rise. Failure to comply will result in the punishment being repeated.”

“Er … yes, choto bua.”

My butt was stinging, and I was already tensed, anticipating the next stroke. The cane was gently tapping at my left ass. Zarine looked down at my bottom with a look of determination and concentration.

SWOOSH!

The second cane stroke was like nothing I had ever felt before from Zarine. I gasped and gripped the desk as hard as I could to stop myself rising up. Zarine had never beaten me that hard before or swung a cane that fast. The pain seemed to eat in deeper and intensify as the full effect of the cane made itself felt, before gradually fading to an intense burning.

SWOOSH!

SWOOSH!

SWOOSH!

The next strokes were equally hard and fast. I was panting now.

“I am going to strike even harder,” Zarine warned me, as she assumed her position again. “If you move out of position, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Yes, choto bua,” I whimpered in dread.

The gentle tapping of the cane on my bottom began as Zarine adjusted her footing. I could hear her breathing becoming heavier as she concentrated on the cane strokes she was about to administer. I knew it would be worse. Much worse.

SWOOSH!

SWOOSH!

SWOOSH!

I almost out in shock at the intensity of the pain. My grip on the desk increased and my knuckles showed white as I fought with the urge to leap up.

SWOOSH!

SWOOSH!

SWOOSH!

The pain was so intense that I didn’t think I could stay down, but the fear of more kept me in place. Zarine seemed to be in the zone, and I didn’t have any hope of mercy from her. I whimpered as the searing pain seemed to sink deeper into me as the effects of the cane matured.

… “Just make sure, Zarine, there is some damage on that bottom of his.” …

“You will spend the next few days apologizing to Rashida apa every waking moment and trying to earn her forgiveness.” Zarine instructed me. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, choto bua,” I replied.

SWOOSH!

This was the hardest stroke so far and it bit into the crease at the very top of my thighs, where they met my butt cheeks. It was too much. I leapt up, hands desperately grasping my burning bare bottom.

“Resume your position at once,” Zarine ordered, coldly. There was no compassion in her voice. “Resume your position at once, or I will double the number of strokes. And I don’t care if your mother walks in.”

Sobbing with pain and fear, I slowly lowered himself onto the desk, once again presenting my burning, throbbing bare bottom for the cane.

She was in no hurry. She stood admiring her handiwork, flexing her cane, while I waited in dread.

“The next stroke will be the hardest you have received so far, baba,” She said, quietly, after a long period of silence. “I expect you to remain in position until I give you permission to rise. Is that understood?”

“Yes, choto bua,” I sobbed.

I braced myself, tightening my grip on the desk, as I felt the cane gently tapping my upturned burning bottom.

SWOOSH!

It was devastatingly hard. Once again, a searing white-hot line of fire sank sickeningly deep into the tender flesh of my bottom. I lost control of my hands as I nearly shrieked in pain. I almost half arose, before I managed to wrestle control of my body. I forced my hands back down, lowering my torso back onto the desk, as I tried to cope with the agony that was still blooming in the wake of the cane stroke. I prayed Zarine would not penalize me.

“You may rise.” My younger maid said, after what seemed an eternity.

“Thank you, choto bua.”

Zarine ordered me to get dressed. After I had put on the T-shirt and my shorts, she ordered me to come and stand in front of her.

“I am sorry I had to punish you like that.” She said, as she inserted her hands into my shorts. For the first time in an hour, I saw her smile.

“Ooooh, you don’t have to apologize for punish me, choto bua.” I gasped, as Zarine’s fingers wrapped themselves around my cock. “I am your slave, choto bua.”

Zarine didn’t say anything as she pumped my manhood for some time.

“I fully support Rashida punishing you firmly.” Zarine finally said, as she continued to stroke me. “What you did is unforgivable.”

“Choto bua.” I tried to be properly respectful to my young maid, even as she continued to rub my phallus. “Please try to understand. I had no way of knowing they would suddenly close the service for two weeks!”

Zarine stopped stroking me and withdrew her hand from my shorts.

“You still don’t get it, do you, Tarek?” She asked, shaking her head. She patted my cheek. “Even after all that caning.”

“Choto bua, why don’t you explain it to me?” I asked her. Somehow, I felt I could be more free with Zarine than I could have with Rubina, my former maid, even after all that caning.

Let me digress a bit here and explain.

Rubina used to hold me in contempt and was quite arrogant. She used to take the slightest chance to punish me and humiliate me. She relished the chance to “play toilet” with me, or to cane me, or slap me. While Rashida punished me when I deserved it, Rubina just liked to cause me pain.

Zarine was different. She hardly ever punished me on her own. She loved to tease me, often coming to my room and stroking me until I was very hard or making me kiss her cheeks. She rarely slapped me of her own accord, or even pulled my ear. She often masturbated me, without Rashida’s knowledge.

My thoughts went back to Rubina.

About week before her (Rubina’s) wedding.

Two days, I think, before we finally had sex.

Rubina had called me to her room in the afternoon. Rashida had gone out for groceries with my mother, and no one other than us two were home. I went to Rubina’s room.

“Go to my closet,” She ordered. “Get me the cane … and the butt plug.”

I knelt as I presented the cane and the butt plug hole to Rubina. A mischievous grin spread on her face as she took the items from me. I remained kneeling in front of her. Rubina reached down and grabbed my ear.

“So,” Rubina said, giving my ear a sharp twist. “When Sharmeen apa was making me try out my wedding night lingerie, you couldn’t help yourself but hide and catch a peek, eh baba?”