Je veux aller a le salon
"Que deĢsirez-vous, monsieur?" My voice filled with the confident assurance of my French practise and my eyes enveloped his form, I wanted to make him mine. I was so very horny. Hazy with the lustful need for his sexual prowess and control, I wanted to be absorbed by his masterful need to own me. Without his presence looming over me I would feel incomplete and powerless. Relinquishing myself to him, I stared up awaiting his response. My bottom and stomach filled with butterflies whirling around in anticipation. "Girl, speak English. Charming as you think your pithy french is I would prefer my whore to remember exactly why we don't need such affectations. Speak plainly and remember your place as my simple english harlot."
Not exactly a moniker I found flattering, his manner of address was akin to that of a medieval lord pouncing on a peasant washerwoman. I bit my lip, took a deep breath and uttered a simple "Oui monsieur" in a tiny act of disobedience, I was feeling cheeky. His palm careened across my unsuspecting right cheek. "Bitch you have been told that your disrespect will be met with correction, I'm sick to death of your blatant contempt for any word I say. Fetch the ball gag from the draw and bring it here. Now." I rose and did as I was bid, rolling my eyes at the piquing of his temper. Not that I had much control left he would've spanked me to within an inch of my consciousness if he saw my face in response. Obediently I trotted back, ball gag in hand as he pointed to his feet and looked to the floor then to me. Dropping to my knees I struggled to take my eyes off his, they were stony and unfeeling orbs penetrating my figure. Whilst mine were filled with terror as my power of speech was to be sacrificed for god knows how long.
He walked around me and stood behind me for a second. "Open", I did as I was told and he inserted the thick rubber ball into my mouth, I had to breath through my nose to prevent drooling. Not wanting to make myself less attractive to him given his surliness. He'd already been disappointed with me enough for one day. As he buckled the strap around the back of my head all I could think was 'what is the point of this, how will he know what I'll want?' Then I remembered that my needs and want aren't important so long as sir gets his way with me.
After he was done his hand pushed my head to the side, my torso jilted and wobbled. As I tried to regain balance on my haunches he snapped his fingers and simply said 'all fours, heel.' Given my situation of helplessness I had no option but to follow in the position he had ordered. Crawling along side him I noticed he was guiding me towards the living room. I was gutted to be taken out of the bedroom not that my opinion would've gone down well had I the opportunity to sound it. When we reached the living room I attempted to get up he tutted condescendingly shaking his head "stay" he chuckled as he sat on the sofa. "In front I'm in need a foot rest" my whole body shivered, nipples erected.
As I shuffled around to get in front of him he sharply yanked me by the nipple, I mewled through the gag, carrying on to fulfil his command. I bent my back as his feet rested on my objectified body. He picked up the remote turning on the television, the drones of the cartoon he was watching filled my ears making me sleepier, the toy in my mouth stifled the brewing yawn in my face. Blinking quickly in attempt to calm my natural urge I felt a hand fondling my nether regions. Fingers artfully fidgeting across my pussy lips, he was crouching around my position using his thumb too firmly control my clitoris. I elicited a muffled moan. "Does my baby need release?", nodding I whined again as three fingers pried open my hole and explored my vaginal canal. I began to hump them grinding my hips against his rough hand, I cocked my leg like a pissing dog as he pleasured me.
"ermmmm, ermmmm, ermmm, ermmmm, ermmmm, ermmmm" came from my voice box as his hand convulsed within me. "Girl up on the couch with me I need something to stroke and your head is perfect, you may masturbate as a little treat whilst I watch this. Don't make a sound." He ran his drenched fingers through my hair and wiped the remainder of the cum on my scalp whilst listening to my heaving irregular breathing "good girl" he muttered. I didn't care about the sensation on my head, the distracted from the aching of my stretched jaw.
Twiddling myself as he calmed my cranium in front of the TV I felt like more of an equal than I did as his furniture (forniture if you're nasty). As the credits rolled I instantaneously came. He switched the box off, small drips of sweat fell from my brow and ecstasy flooded my body, he began to undo my gag. Screeching I stared up at him. "Merci monsieur". My mind overflowed with love for him at that moment, he picked me up and carried me back to bed. Placing me on the mattress over the top of the covers he bent between my legs and his tongue danced across my labia and into my hole. He rammed his face in between my legs until I screamed with delight.
After he had his way with me he slithered up my body and spat into my ecstatic open mouth. My eyes sprung open and he lifted me onto his penis and bounced me up and down with a masterful vigour as he stared greedily into my eyes soaking up my moans with every pump my pussy gave to his cock.
I sweated on his lap until he came inside me with a powerful growl. As he did this he pulled me off his dick, seamen leaking out of my hole and took the hair tie out of my hair, flipping me over his knee. My locks cascaded down my shoulders and he threw my maid uniform up over my bottom as he provided me with some spanks that stung my posterior; I tried to breath through it regaining my breath after each sting of his loving palm smacked me. I squealed in a fizzing delight from my front and back pussys.
My status as his maid reinforced as I sighed out a "c'est bon papa" - he spanked me one more time for that. I bit my lip and attempted to conceal my giggle. Then he dumped me on the floor and exasperated he said from nowhere in perfect french "Tu peux etre ma femme de chambre francaise. Putain."
Oh what a joyous moment.
In the heat of the moment, I longed to express my desires in French, saying, "Je veux aller a le salon," which translates to "I want to go to the parlor." Despite his preference for English, I found comfort in my French heritage and the allure of seduction it brought. The French maid costume, complete with its lace and frills, seemed to enhance my role as his submissive, adding an element of kink to our encounters.
As he guided me into the living room, I couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation. Here I was, a French maid in a ball gag, about to satisfy his needs, while my own desires were lost in the mix. It felt surreal, like a scene from a BDSM movie, with the master commanding and the maid obeying.
His French words of affection another night didn't feel out of place in this role-play. As he lifted me onto his lap, I could feel his rough hands exploring my body, his touch sending a wave of pleasure through me. Then, in a moment of intimacy, he whispered in my ear, "Tu peux etre ma femme de chambre francaise," which translates to, "You can be my French maid." The words felt like a declaration of love, a testament to the power he had over me, and a comforting reminder of the role I played in his life.