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From: "E S" <ellbm@altavista.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Girl in the Cottage  Part 8
Date: Mon, 11 Nov 2002 03:10:07 -0500
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The Girl in the Cottage


Part 8


The girl was up at six, had some porridge and was set to work.
Her tasks were menial, scrubbing the floor, peeling potatoes, and
washing the pots and cauldrons. She had to have rubber gloves on,
to protect her skin, to use a cushion to protect her knees. The
keeper cared for her body.

She and two other girls wore their dresses open in front. They
were all shaved. The cook and the keeper didn't. The little
Spanish girl, Violeta or Vee, was the favourite of the cook, and
worked in the kitchen. She was plump, dark and goodtempered. 

The other was a boyish ashblonde girl in her early twenties, who
made the beds, the washing and the cleaning and was under the
wings of the keeper. She was the chambermaid, but the cook
referred to her as Ash Boy or just Boy. The newcomer on the other
hand was everybody's property and had no nickname at all and no
title. She was just the girl.

"Come", said Ash Boy. The girl took off her gloves, dried herself
carefully and followed her down the hall. She was used to
accompany girls to bathrooms, but not to see them use the toilet.
The chambermaid didn't care, on the contrary she wanted to do it
in front of the girl. "Shy, aren't you?" she said with a
mischievous smile. "Sit down."

The girl sat on her heels. She didn't see any toilet paper
around, only a towel at the hand-basin. The maid rose and went up
to the girl, stood in front of her with parted legs, her shaved
pussy at level with the girl's face. "Wipe me clean", she said. 

"With what?" The girl didn't understand.

"Your pretty little tongue will do. Ever heard of the rules? This
is one of your duties."

The girl tentatively tasted the pussy. Salty it was, but not too
bad. She licked her clean. The maid turned and bent over. "Now
for the ass", she said. 
The girl hesitantly parted the buttocks and saw the brown
residue, not much but enough to make her feel sick. "No", she
moaned, "please don't force me." 

"Did I hear a no?" There was menace in the voice.

Panicking the girl shoved her face into the ass of the redhead,
fought down an attack of nausea, and began licking. "Go on", the
maid said. "I want to be real clean, get your tongue in, you
little whore." 

The girl worked on her ass till her jaws were aching and the
tongue felt numb. "Enough", muttered the maid and opened the door
and called out. "She said no, madame." Somebody was waiting
outside. 

The keeper came in with a bucket of twigs. The girl was on all
four on the floor. "They all say no", she said and handed the
maid some rope. "But only once. Undress her and tie her up. You
didn't flush, I hope?"

In the nude the girl was a head shorter and half the width of the
keeper, and she made no resistance when her hands were tied on
her back. She was led over to the stool, her legs parted and her
feet secured facing the tank. The keeper forced her to bend over
and pushed her face down in the bowl, keeping it there.

After half a minute she pulled up her head, the girl spluttering
and gasping, eyes wide. "Please", the girl cried. The keeper
pushed her head down again.

"Don't stand there looking silly", the keeper growled to the
maid. "Tie her arms to the tank." The girls arms were bent
upwards and forwards, forcing her head down in the bowl. "We want
nice straight legs and a good dip." When the angle between arms
and legs were 90 degrees, the girl was practically jack-knifed.
Her knees couldn't bend even if she tried. She was moaning from 
the strain. "Get me a nice, tight bundle of those twigs",  the
keeper said to the maid.

The maid put her arm in the bucket and jumped back. "Ouch", she
cried "it's nettles. Can I fetch my gloves?"

"This is going to be a wonderful day", the keeper mumbled under
her breath. "You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know what I
pick? Get me that bundle..."

The maid awkwardly managed to get her hand into the bucket and
got a grip on a handful of stems. She held them as a bouquet at
arm's length.

"Squeeze them", the keeper said. "Squeeze them good. You got two
hands." 

The maid squeezed them and then passed the bundle to the keeper,
who received it without taking her eyes of her. "Do you want  me
to report you or shall I deal with your disobedience on the
spot?"

"Please, madam, don't report me, I really didn't say no."

"So my hearing is impaired, too?" The keeper grabbed her dress at
the neck and tore it open. Buttons were rolling on the floor. The
maid was defenceless, her dress tying her arms to the sides and
leaving her breasts bare. The nettles hit her breasts left,
right, left, right, and fragments of leaves were in the air.
"Make me another bundle."

The keeper turned her attention to the girl. She swept the
nettles along the back of the legs, then between them. She
noticed the tremor. "Stretching is good", she told the girl, "we
want your body lithe and easy to handle. Imagine doing the
splits, it improves the effect of pussywhipping, don't you
think?"

She began to whip the girl, starting from the knees, alternating
between forehand and backhand. With each hit red, diffuse welts
appeared within a few seconds. She stopped when the backside was
entirely covered with welts. She threw the bundle in the corner.
"The new one." The maid had one ready.

The girl hardly felt the whipping, that pain being drowned by
that from the pull on her arms. But when she was hit between her
legs she jumped. A gurgling sound was heard from the bowl, then
violent coughing. Next hit sent her down again. 

The keeper was aroused now, her eyes shiny. She was merciless,
each blow aimed straight on the cunt of the girl. 

"She's had it", said the maid nervously. "Doesn't lift her head
anymore."

"Who cares?" The keeper grabbed the hait and pulled the girl's
head out of the bowl. Water came out of her nose, she showed the
white of the eyes. "Pull the ropes." The keeper put both arms
around her chest and did two fast compressions. The girl puked
and gasped. 

"I want you with me in a minute", the keeper growled and turned
to the door. "But first get that sorry piece of ass out ofhere."

When her feet came loose the girl fell headlong over the toilet
and hit the tiled floor with her head, not even protecting
herself with her hands. The maid kicked her in the ribs. She
gasped and coughed and water came out of her mouth. It didn't
sound too good. "Shit." She flushed the toilet and began to drag
the girl out the door. "Help somebody!" 

"You in trouble, Boy?" the cook said.

The girl was in bed for three days with a blue eye and a fever.
The area between her legs and her buttocks was covered with
running sores. Violeta was treating her. She had difficulties
breathing and the keeper, who didn't come to see her as she -
like the ladies - found wounds repulsive, suggested antibiotics.
The cook flatly refused. "I can clean her lungs out with camphor,
you'll see." 

On the third day her skin had healed, only crusts remaining. But
she was still swollen and the skin was hypersensitive. The fever
was down. She could do some simple work standing up, like
polishing silver.

What got them worried was the girl's mental state, at night she
was hallucinating and woke up screaming. As everybody was a bit
unsettled it was decided that the Spanish girl should sleep with
her. In her arms the girl relaxed. "She was so nice to me when I
came here", she whispered in the dark. "I trusted her. How could
she do this to me?"

"She gets mean when aroused", Vee explained. "And you're her
type." 

"I feel so filthy", whispered the girl. "Like nobody would ever
want to touch me anymore."

"Don't be stupid." The Spanish girl kissed her. "You smell nice.
I wanted to look like you when I was twelve or thirteen, to be
tall and have fair skin and freckles and big blue eyes." 

"I'm not tall", protested the girl. "And I hate the color of my
skin, especially in the winters. Bluish, with visible veins and
big ugly freckles. In the sun I turn pink and then the skin comes
off."

The girl felt the heat of the darker woman from her shoulders
down to the back of her thighs. She felt secure. And when she
woke up the Spanish girl was kissing her neck and nibbling at her
ear. She turned the girl on her back and kissed her breasts, her
navel and her thighs. "Don't", mumbled the girl, "I'm so
sensitive now."

"I'll be careful", whispered Violeta. "You're so wet."

"I know, it's like I'm on fire all the time. But it's painful."

The Spanish girl just used the tip of her tongue, running it
lightly in the swollen folds. She could sense a glowing white
ball appearing deep inside the girl through the ripples it
caused, but didn't change pace. Then she paused and startedanew.

"Nobody have been gentle to me for a long time", the girl
whispered. 

 "Love can be found in unexpected places."

The girl recovered. A few days later she was back at her tasks,
peeling potatoes, shining shoes, and scrubbing floors. When
anyone said "Come!" she followed them and then returned to her
duties. She learned a lot of things, among others that a visit to
the bathroom was allowed for five minutes. So when the
chambermaid wanted head she had to work fast. 

Vee also used her services, but never with a vicious intent. They
used running water to clean up. In the days they rarely spoke to
each other, not to attract attention, but in the night she
sneaked into the girl's room and made love to her. Forbidden of
course, but the cook snored like a walrus and preferred to sleep
alone. Sometimes the keeper had Boy in her quarters for her
pleasure. 

After such a night the maid seemed haggard and kept to herself.
Her pussy was swollen and tender, the skin pricked by needles.

The girl never saw the ladies. Sometimes the Spanish girl or the
maid was sent up to them, but often they were out travelling. The
needles in her tits was changed to polished steel rings, with a
larger and quite heavy ring between her legs, an inch wide. Her
pubic hair and the hair in her armpits was permanently and
painfully removed. At least the keeper hoped so.

Days went into routine, she was not the new girl anymore. She
started to think of the cook and the keeper as men, the main
difference being they didn't get drunk on Friday nights and
weren't half that horny.

"The police is here!" It was the keeper's voice, calling up to
the ladies. The girl quickly got her gloves off, put the apron on
the bench, and hurried to the hall. She peeked out from behind a
door. The ladies were already there with the keeper. Two men were
in the doorway, the fat one talking in plainclothes, the lean one
behind in uniform. She was pulled back, resolutely. 

It was Violeta, she was upset. "What are you doing?"

 From the hall they heard a man's voice: "Who was that? A new
employee?" and they heard the low alto of the older of the
ladies: "Shall I bring her here?" and the steady shoes of the
keeper coming down the corridor. The Spanish girl was on her
knees fumbling with the clasp in the back of the girl's dress. 

"What the hell are you two up to?" asked the keeper.

"Just letting her dress down, I didn't think she ..."

"You don't think at all", the keeper said. "We are not ashamed of
our lifestyle, and I don't think the gentlemen would mind. I'll
report your behavior."  

In Violeta's eyes was horror. The keeper took the girl by the arm
and pushed her out in the corridor. 

The girl suddenly became aware of her nudity. The two men could
not avoid seeing the ring in her pussy, as she walked towards
them. The blonde said: "As I said, fresh as a rosebud in the
morning dew." The two men straightened up, the lean one nervously
taking off his cap and striking his hair backwards.

"Yes, this is our newest employee", the older lady said. "She
came to us ten days ago. Any questions?"

"Is she here of her own free will?" asked the fat man.

"Of course", said the blonde.

"Allright, girl, look me in the eye." The fat man put his big
hand under her chin. "You here because you want to?"

The girl seemed puzzled. She looked from one to the other as if
she didn't know whom to answer. She nodded with tears in her
eyes. 

"And that blue eye you've got? Or rather yellow eye. Was that a
week ago?" 

"Yes", said the girl. 

"Did anyone hit you?"

"No, I fell in the bathroom."

"We have a report here from up north, a businessman has lost his
wife and wants us to bring her back. You are that runaway wife, I
guess?"

The girl didn't know what to say, she looked desperately at the
impassive faces of the three women. The fat man shook his head. 

"Would you mind to give us a room where we can be undisturbed?"
he said.

"Is that really necessary?" objected the blonde. "You're scaring
this girl. Just ask her if she wants to remain married to that
man, that's a lot easier."

"You can have the office", the older lady said. 

In the office with the two policemen the girl leaned back on the
desk, breathing heavily, trying to clear her mind. "I'm sorry",
she said. "Of course you had to come looking for me, if I'm
reported missing."

"If you want to", the fat man said, "we can put you on a train
this evening. You'll be home before you know it."

There was something wrong in the way the words fell. An expectant
note. The girl sensed it, but didn't quite understand. "I have
the right to stay here", she said, "he can't get me out of here
by force, can he?" She was buying time. 

"It's up to you." 

The lean man in the uniform was doing something with his
trousers. Slowly she realized he was trying to hide away his
hard-on, and she looked away blushing. She glanced at the fat man
and saw his tongue protrude from dry lips. Those two men were
like hungry wolves, yellow teeth and all. 

"Or we can pack you off to your lover." The first words from the
lean man and they were definitely in the wrong chord. She quickly
looked up to say something, but bit her lip. The bulge in the
lean man's pants was growing, and she tried to keep her eyes off
it. 

She made her decision: "No, I want to stay here."

"You might be stuck here for the rest of your life". The fat man
was oily now. "You absolutely sure?"

"I like it here."

"We might drop in once a month to check on you." Both men were
looking straight at her pussy, and she dared not move. She was
still leaning back on the desk, her legs slightly apart, the
steel ring in clear view.

"Sexy little pussy you have", said the lean man. "Your husband
didn't buy you that ring. Those dykes put it there, right?"

The girl nodded. The ring got heavier by the minute. 

The fat man was puzzled. "You like it?" 

The girl cleared her throat. "In a way." She blushed furiously.

"Don't be embarrassed", the fat man said. "We like horny girls.
If you went down the street in a mini with that ring hanging
there, men would cream all over you. You wouldn't mind, would
you? Take off that dress."

The girl fumbled with the buttons, her fingers trembling. The
lean man whistled when he saw the rings in the tits. His hard-on
was stretched half down his left leg, and the girl couldn't help
watching him rub it, fascinated. 

"Yeah, he's hung as a horse", the fat man said. "You like it? You
want that meat up your little girl pussy? You want to get fucked
real good, right?"

The girl winced "Don't treat me like that." 

"Seems to me your little tits are on parade now and your little
pussy too. He could shove that horse cock up your love channel
right this minute and you would splash all over the place. But I
won't force you, all right?"

The girl nodded gratefully.

"Hi, man, your stick." The lean man handed his two foot truncheon
to his collegue. "It's black and not as thick, but otherwise
there are similarities. You know what I mean, girl." The fat man
let the truncheon slide up the inside of the girl's legs, lifting
the ring, playing with it, plowing the opened folds behind it
without entering. 

"Now, girl", the fat man said, "you can pick up your dress and
walk out that door. Or you can stay. I'll count to five." 

"One.." The girl got on her feet, and shyly looked at the lean
man. "Two." The girl took her dress off the desk. "Three." The
girl went for the door, turned to the lean man and tried to
smile, like excusing herself, turned again. "Four." The girl put
her hand on the doorknob. "Five." The girl stood there, head
bowed.

"Come here", the fat man said. The girl went back.to him. "So now
we all know you're a whore to be had. No pretences anymore. You
still can leave. But if you want to get fucked, get down on your
knees and lick that truncheon clean." He raised her chin and
looked her in the eye. "And fucking means we do what we want, no
little girl last time objections."

The girl fell on her knees and took the truncheon down her
throat. 

Three hours later the two policemen left the manor and the keeper
and the maid collected the unconscious girl. She was bleeding
from her ass and pussy, and blue welts appeared on the inside of
her thighs. "I hate men", mumbled the maid. "Never mind the men",
the keeper retorted. "Our ladies won't be too happy having to
wait another week or two."

The girl was back in bed and it turned out the cook was a witch
doctor in her own right, producing new herbal ointments every
day. The girl couldn't to talk, her throat badly ravaged. She
drank a lot of honeyed tea but ate nothing but small amounts of
soups and vegetable purees. On the second day a doctor arrived to
stitch the gash in her ass.

"How the hell are you amusing yourselves?" the doctor said.
"Fucking her with a goddamn eggplant, or what?"

"Looks like a truncheon", replied the keeper. "She must've gotten
into bad company."

When the girl was able to move around again she sneaked in to the
Spanish girl, who was in sickbed too. On her side, propped up by
pillows.

"I heard you made it", Violeta mumbled, as if drugged. "I am so
happy."

"What happened to you?" the girl whispered hoarsely. 

"They think I tipped you off."

"What? You didn't say anything." The girl carefully raised the
blanket to check . The cook had been there, she was covered from
the neck down with what looked like porridge wraps but smelled
from herbs. "What did they do to you?"

"They flogged me. And then I went into shock."

"It's my fault. God, I'm so ashamed."

Violeta pulled the girl down and tried to hug her. "Sssh. Don't
talk like that. I'm happy having you here." And she whispered in
her ear: "Those cops are bad, that's what I tried to tell you.
You didn't rat, did you?"

"They tried to make me talk", the girl said. "But I tried to
figure out why you tried to stop me. Something was wrong. They
said they'd put me on a train, but again, perhaps theywouldn't."

"Perhaps they'd just tell the ladies you ratted on them."

The girl pondered that. "You might have saved my life", she
whispered. "Why did you risk that?"

"I love you."

The girl wiped the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand
and just sat there, holding the other girl's hand. She was still
sitting there when the cook entered, with a pot of smelly
porridge and a bundle of bandages under her arm.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the cook said. 

"Just to see if I could help", said the girl. "Kind of you to
care for me, too, I'm really a lot better now."

"Get out", snarled the cook. "I know a pussylicker when I see
one. Don't ever lay a finger on my girl. I'll peel you like a
shrimp." 


SORENSEN

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