Cute Girls

Flowers for Maxine Ch. 06

The next two weeks seemed to last a year. All Maxine could think about was the humiliation that awaited her at Father’s flat. She tried to call Althea, hoping they could make up somehow, but could only get the answering machine. Althea didn’t return the calls.

Finally, the day came. Maxine was just about to put the key in the lock when the door opened and out came the nasty little German man who had measured her for her chastity belt. He smiled and nodded and then quickly walked off down the wharf. Maxine climbed the stairs to find Father pacing up and down, evidently deep in thought. She waited for him to notice her but he seemed oblivious. After a moment, she took her clothes off and clipped on the restraints. He was still pacing. She thought she’d better go and take position ready for punishment. She hoped he wasn’t angry with her.

When she entered the punishment room, Althea was hanging in place, hooded and gagged. Of course! Günther had been there to measure her. Her legs were covered with angry marks. Maxine wasn’t sure what to do now. Wanting desperately to please Father, she draped herself over the trestle in the corner and clipped her cuffs to its legs. She waited and waited. She just wanted to get the ordeal over with.

After an age, the door opened and Father came in. He took Althea down and removed her hood and gag.

She blinked and looked at Maxine’s waiting bottom. What would she use on it? Maxine started to shake.

‘Do you still want to thrash her?’ said Father.

‘No, Father,’ said Althea.

‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘Now go home and wait for Sister Gudrun’s call.’

‘Yes, Father. Thank you, Father.’

It was incredible. He had brought her down so quickly. She sounded as submissive as Maxine had become. But that had taken him weeks. What had happened?

Althea left and Father released Maxine and led her back to the living room. There was champagne in a bucket on the table. He poured and offered a glass.

‘Congratulations, Maxine.’

‘Congratulations?’

‘Yes; you have passed the final test.’

‘I thought Althea was going to beat me.’

‘And you submitted to it. Why?’

‘Because you wished it, Father.’

‘But you would have hated it, nevertheless?’

‘Yes.’ Maxine dropped her eyes.

There was a pause. She plucked up the necessary courage. ‘Why didn’t she? How come she’s so sub–’

‘missive?’ he offered.

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve given her to Sister Gudrun for training. She’s only just left. It’s a condition of training that slaves may not wield the whip until they pass all the tests. She understands. She will whip you afterwards, I’m sure. And it will be very painful, Maxine. Gudrun will make sure of that. Would you like to whip “her”?’

‘”No”!’ Maxine was horrified at the thought. ‘Anyway you said we weren’t allowed–’

‘Not until you reach the next level. You may now advance to the status of Acolyte. I’m very pleased with you. There is only the initiation ceremony left.’

Initiation? A super beating, she supposed. Or wicked bondage for a week or – something.

‘No, Maxine, you will not be beaten.’

As usual, he seemed to know her every thought.

‘The initiation involves you making three wishes. Think carefully now and choose them well.’

Maxine thought carefully, thinking of Faust. ‘Those whom the gods wish to destroy they answer their prayers. I must be honest,’ she thought. There was nothing else she wanted.

‘I wish only to serve you, Father.’

‘Well spoken. If you had not wished that, I would have sent you away forever. And the second wish? Something for yourself?’

She thought carefully again. ‘I would like to get my own back on the man that raped me,’ she whispered.

‘I anticipated that too. It is already arranged.’

‘Really?’ Maxine was astonished and curious. ‘How?’

‘No questions. Your third?’

What did he want her to say? She had no clue. What “did” she want most?

‘I’d like to see your face. Just once. Just…’

He put down his glass and lifted his cowl. There was no mask. She stared at his chiselled features and steel grey hair. She even dared to look at his dark, smouldering eyes.

‘I thought you would be…’

‘Ugly?’

She looked down. ‘Yes.’

‘Am I?’

‘No, Father. You’re…’

‘Next, you must agree to the conditions of being my acolyte. You will donate 20% of your salary to the order in perpetuity. Is that agreed?’

‘Yes, Father.’

‘You will obey the Brothers and Sisters of the Order without question.’

‘Of course, Father.’

‘You will also earn money for the Order directly. OK?’

‘How?’ she asked.

‘In any way we see fit. OK?’

‘Yes, Father.’ She had no choice. This was her destiny. She looked again into his lovely eyes.

‘Lastly, you will take a year’s sabbatical from work and attend the Order’s seminary.’

‘But they won’t give me a year off.’

‘It is already arranged. As their most important client they dare not refuse a request from me.’

Her mind was racing. Client? Yes, he had known David Burman. It explained how, in the early days, he knew so much about her. She looked at him again. Yes, she “had” seen him in the office a few times, but never heard him speak. He was Francis Peckham, chief executive of Grandchester Holdings, one of the biggest telecommunications groups in the world. F for Francis! David had managed his account once, though not now. Everything was slipping into place.

He took a small velvet box from his robe and opened it. He held it out. For a crazy second, Maxine thought he was going to propose marriage, but he said ‘Wear this ring always. It tells our members that you are an acolyte and that they may use you.’

Maxine took the box and slipped the signet ring onto her wedding finger. It fitted perfectly. Why had she chosen that finger? It was too late now. If she took it off, he might anger. And it was a kind of marriage: a marriage to the Order.

‘Drink up, Maxine. Then we must go out to celebrate.’

Together they downed the rest of the champagne. Maxine dressed and Father removed her restraints. He changed into a suit. They went by taxi to an exquisite Italian restaurant in the West End. She felt like a princess with her distinguished-looking escort. She drank too much and got quite giggly.

‘How old are you, Maxine?’ he asked as the taxi drove us back to Maxine’s flat.

‘Twenty-five.’

‘In ten years or so you will have the chance to become a Sister of the Order. Would you like that?’

‘I don’t know. Will I have to beat people?’

‘You must be able to dominate them. Beating isn’t the only way.’

‘I don’t… I don’t think I could, Father. I’m a natural submissive. That much you’ve taught me.’

‘I know, my sweet, and I love you for it. But you may be able to learn…’ He seemed to go off into a reverie. ‘Now that you’re an acolyte, you can try it out. Perhaps we should start with Althea, she’ll make a great Sister one day but, for now, her problem is learning about her submissive side.’

Maxine really couldn’t imagine dominating Althea – of all people. A few hours ago she had been prepared to submit to her friend. ‘If you wish it, Father, I’ll try,’ she said.

‘We’ll see. Ah, we’re here.’

He paid the cabby and led Maxine upstairs. He kissed and undressed her gently and took her to bed. He made love to her slowly, kissing every inch of her skin and bringing her to the brink with his fingers. His cock plunged into her at last. She came immediately, then came again. He turned her over then. Maxine felt his prick press against her anal opening as his hands parted her buttocks. He was pressing at her other hole.

‘No! Please,’ she gasped.

It hurt at first, as his monstrous dick forced open the tight sphincter. Maxine screamed.

‘Relax,’ he said.

She tried to relax. Suddenly in was inside, going deeper and deeper at each thrust, filling her in a way she’d never, ever been filled. The orgasm took her completely by surprise. She was screaming so loud that she knew the world could hear.

‘Arrrgh! Arrrgh! Oh! Oh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.’

She felt his semen filling her arse. His prick felt as big as a tree. She came again.

They lay there exhausted for a while. His prick was shrinking slowly. Eventually it popped out. He took Maxine in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. She fell asleep in his arms, her head on his chest and tears of joy in her eyes.

Maxine awoke in the morning feeling like a bride. In effect, he had taken her last virginity on their wedding night. It felt so right. She was so happy. She had never thought that she would let a man do that to her. Now, she had to admit that she had enjoyed it. Her arse was sore, though.

She made breakfast and he left, after fitting her chastity belt. That surprised her. There was no way she was going to be playing with herself after a night like that. But there it was. He wanted her padlocked, so she was padlocked, like it or not.

The police arrived at the office on Thursday. David’s office was searched as he looked on. Then they took him away. ‘What’s he done?’ asked Rose.

‘I honestly don’t know,’ said Maxine.

She expected Father to phone all week, but he didn’t. She knew that she wasn’t to go to his flat without orders. Perhaps he was away. Two more weekends passed like this and she began to get worried, not to say horny. She even contemplated going round there anyway and risking his displeasure. But no, she couldn’t do that. She knew who he was now, so, after another week, she risked calling his office.

‘Mr Peckham is not available at present. Can I take a message?’

Maxine put the phone down.

David had been charged following the police investigation. Of course, he’d been suspended since his arrest. Maxine wondered how he must be feeling, stuck at home awaiting the outcome. She hoped he felt like shit. It was alleged that he had made over 80 obscene phone calls to young women and was stalking three of them. Charles Spalding, one of the senior partners, summoned Maxine to his office to tell her this.

‘Look, Maxine, I know it’s not our usual line but I feel the firm owes him at least the benefit of a good defence. You’re about the nearest thing we’ve got to a criminal lawyer. Think you can manage?’ He handed her the file.

‘Can’t someone else…’

‘Come on old girl. Dunkirk spirit, eh? I know you can do it.’

Reluctantly, she took the manila folder. ‘All right, I’ll do my best.’

And she would. Much as she wanted him to go to gaol, she was a professional. As such, she would do a professional job. Actually, interviewing him was great. She was in charge now and she enjoyed watching him squirm and evade her eyes as she let him tell his side of the story. Perhaps this” was her dominant side that Father had talked about coming out. An unbidden picture of David tied over a trestle with stripes on his arse flashed into her mind.

‘Look, Maxine, I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I’ve done nothing. I didn’t make those calls.’

‘I’ve heard the tapes. It sounds like you; and, apparently, forensics experts will say that the voice spectrum is a perfect match to your voice.’

‘That’s what I can’t understand. Honestly, Maxine, it wasn’t me.’

‘So you claim you didn’t do it, David?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘But you raped me,’ she thought, ‘you’re perfectly capable of this.’

‘Did you know any of these girls? Particularly the ones you stalked?’

‘I didn’t stalk them.’

‘Did you know any?’ She was enjoying this.

‘Well, yes, one of them.’

‘Does she have a grudge against you, David?’

He looked confused. ‘Grudge?’

‘You raped her.’

‘No.’

‘But you had sex?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you raped her, just as you raped me, and this is her revenge?’

‘Look, Maxine, it wasn’t rape. You were gagging for it or you wouldn’t have led me on like that. You know you–’

‘What was her name?’

‘Denise Cox.’

‘So, I suppose Denise Cox was “gagging for it” too.’

‘Well, yes, if you must put it that way.’

‘I see.’

Maxine hadn’t really looked at the list of names that the police had supplied her with until now. She ran her finger down the list. Here were the names of the three stalkees: Denise Cox, Juliet Early, and Althea Faraday.

Althea! ‘My Althea!’ At last she saw Father’s hand at work. Of course, he had access to the most sophisticated telecomms kit. He had plenty of opportunity to tape telephone calls with David. It would be child’s play to deconstruct the tapes and make new sentences. Maxine laughed inwardly. ‘Gotcha!’

‘If we go to court with this evidence and a not guilty plea, you’ll go to gaol.’

‘I think someone’s framed me.’

‘How would that be possible? The tapes!’

‘Fakes. It’s possible.’

‘Technically yes, but it would cost a fortune. Who do you know that hates you enough “and” is rich enough?’

He looked at her.

‘Come on, David; you know what I earn.’

‘I wasn’t accusing you…’ His look had said otherwise.

‘Look, here’s what I suggest. On the stalking, it’s your word against theirs and there’s only circumstantial evidence. You must just get lucky with the jury. On the phone calls, you plead guilty and hope to get off with a light sentence. We play for sympathy – understanding. I would argue it this way. Junk mail comes through everyone’s letterbox. You hate it but there’s nothing you can do, even if it offends you. It’s the same with the phone calls: you’re offering a service (sex in this case but still a service). If the punter doesn’t want the service they say “no thanks” and put the phone down. Since everyone is fed up to the teeth with junk and spam these days, the jury might just go for it. What do you think?’

‘It’s ingenious but… I’ll have to think about it.’

He sat there like a lump until Maxine closed the file and stood.

‘You know the way out, of course.’

‘Oh, er, yes,’ he said.

It was all she could do to stop herself jumping in the air and shouting ‘Yes!’ The bastard was going to get what he deserved.

Technically speaking, Maxine shouldn’t have called Althea that night, she was a witness for the prosecution, but she was an old friend too. Maxine left a message on her answering machine, saying that she’d like to apologise to her and asking if they could meet.

Two days later, the phone rang.

‘Is that Maxine?’

‘Speaking.’

‘Sister Gudrun here. I see you’ve been trying to contact one of my girls.’

‘Yes, Mother.’ Maxine cowered inwardly at the sound of that stern voice.

‘I’ll send my driver for you tomorrow. What time do you get home?’

‘Just before seven, usually.’

‘Seven then.’ She rang off.

Maxine was terrified. She feared Gudrun more than anything she could think of. If only Father would ring.

Despite her misgivings, she was waiting when the doorbell rang. She recognized Brother Geoffrey under his chauffeur’s cap. She curtsied instinctively and invited him in. He looked at the ring.

‘Kneel,’ he said.

Maxine knelt and watched him fumble with his flies.

‘You know what to do,’ he said.

Maxine took the proffered member in her hand and mouth. She swallowed his gift and licked him clean. He put the wilting thing away and told her to follow him. They drove through north London for a hour. It was a big house. Sister Gudrun evidently wasn’t short of a bob or two. Brother Geoffrey garaged the Jaguar and led Maxine into the house and into an elegant drawing room, plastered with watercolours and miniatures.

‘Thank you, Geoffrey. You may go.’

Mother was sitting, robed, on a chaise longue. Julie and Althea were standing to attention, naked and in chains. Both wore chastity belts. Althea’s breasts and thighs were covered with wicked stripes and emerging bruises. She was crying. Her marks and sallow skin contrasted with Julie’s clear, unmarked, limpid skin. Julie had the ring of an acolyte. Maxine had not noticed her wearing it before, but if you’re not looking you don’t see.

‘Take your clothes off, Maxine. Let me see you,’ said the hooded woman.

Maxine stripped, revealing her humiliating belt.

‘Now, why did you want to talk to my Althea?’

‘She’s a witness in a case of mine.’

‘Of course she is. I’ve just been rehearsing her for cross-examination. For an English graduate she’s not very good at learning lines. I had to thrash her for messing up her story. You won’t forget again, will you, Althea?’

‘No, Mother. I’ll be word perfect tomorrow.’

‘I’m sure you will. If Julie can do it, so can you.’ The seated woman looked at Maxine menacingly. ‘Can you imagine how painful it is to have your tits whipped, Maxine?’

‘Yes, Mother,’ said Maxine, praying that she wasn’t about to find out.

‘Was that all you wanted?’

‘I wanted to say I was sorry for betraying her friendship. To say that–’

‘There’s no need. Is there, Althea?’

‘No, Mother. Permission to speak?’

‘Go ahead.’

Althea looked at Maxine through her tears. ‘I’m glad you introduced me to this, Max. I’ve never been so happy. I didn’t know anything about, well, sex, my sexuality, until now. Mother has taught me everything I ever needed to know. So thank you, Maxine. You did me the greatest of favours in the end. Are we friends?’

‘Of course,’ said Maxine, relieved but astonished nevertheless.

Sister Gudrun stood. ‘Go to your cell, Althea. I won’t be needing you tonight.’

Althea shuffled out of the room in her chains. The backs of her thighs were as badly marked as their fronts.

‘Come here, you two,’ said Mother.

Maxine and Julie stepped closer. Mother produced a key and unlocked their belts.

‘What this!’ she shrieked. ‘ How long have you been an acolyte, Maxine?’

‘About a month.’

‘Then why aren’t you shaved?’

‘I shaved my legs last week.’

‘Not your legs, bitch. Your cunt!’

‘But I’ve had the belt on ever since. I couldn’t…’

‘That man! He is so careless. Never mind. We’ll see to it tomorrow. She unlocked and removed Julie’s cuffs. ‘Right now, I have a client for you. You’ll find your clothes in the trunk there.’ She indicated an antique seaman’s chest under the bay window.

Julie opened the trunk and rummaged. Julie was slipping on a white shirt and pulling up white knickers. She handed Maxine similar garments. Maxine fastened the white bra. It was too small. By the time Maxine had buttoned the shirt, Julie was wearing full school uniform, straw boater included. In minutes, both girls were dressed identically, with only the bulge of her breasts and long, dark hair to distinguish Maxine.

Maxine felt silly in the white socks and flat shoes. Mother had disappeared.

‘Is Julie short for anything?’

The girl glanced at the door and then whispered ‘Juliet.’

‘Juliet Early?’

Another glance at the door. ‘How did you know?’

‘You’re a witness against David Burman.’

‘Oh yes. Funny isn’t it. He raped you.’

Father must have told her.

‘Why are we dressing up like schoolgirls?’ Maxine was still struggling to knot her tie properly.

‘Shh. We’re not supposed to talk.’

Julie adjusted the tie. Maxine waited for what would transpire with a resignation that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago. She weighed what she had learnt during her visit. Father had created at least two witnesses against David. Was the third one of the Order’s slaves too? It seemed that acolytes were expected to shave off their pubic hair. So, perhaps Julie had been an acolyte from the beginning. Maxine wanted to ask her, but guessed she wouldn’t talk at present.

They were dressed as schoolgirls. It seemed obvious that this would be for the benefit of a man. Surely, women didn’t fantasize about school uniform. Most girls couldn’t wait not to have to wear it. Perhaps Brother Geoffrey was up for a bit. Was he really Gudrun’s servant or was that rôleplay too? Eventually, they heard the sound of tyres on gravel.

Geoffrey opened the door and ushered in Gudrun and an immensely obese, middle-aged man. Geoffrey left the four of them to stare at each other.

Gudrun extended an arm toward the schoolgirls, turning to the man. ‘Do you like them?’

‘Five hundred, you said?’

‘Yes. Which one would you like?’

The man waddled over, put his chubby hand under Maxine’s blazer and squeezed her right breast. Close up, she could see the sweat on his head and neck. He stank of aftershave and BO.

‘This one’s too old, she’s not worth five hundred,’ he said, turning back to Gudrun.

Maxine was insulted. Too old indeed!

‘I’ll give you seven for the both of them,’ he said.

Maxine could hardly believe her ears. Gudrun was selling them – selling them like common prostitutes. The shame of it mingled with hurt pride. Then she remembered Father’s words: you will also earn money for the Order directly. Was this what he had meant?

The fat man pulled out a wallet and counted out fourteen notes into Gudrun’s outstretched hand.

‘Go with Mr Smith, girls,’ said Gudrun, smiling sadistically, ‘and – be good’.

She showed the three of them to a room on the first floor. It was arranged like a classroom, with four small desks facing a large one, behind which was an old fashioned blackboard on a wooden easel. Mr Smith, if that was his name, shut the door. On it hung a mortarboard and gown. He took his jacket off and took down the academic garb. His white shirt was stained with sweat at the armpits.

Following Julie’s lead, Maxine stood behind a desk, at attention.

‘Take your blazers off and sit,’ said the man as he put the gown on and donned the cap. They sat.

‘Today we will do Mathematics.’ He looked at Maxine. ‘You! What’s your name, girl?’

‘Maxine.’

‘Maxine, Sir’ he bawled.

‘Sorry, Sir.’

‘You will be. What’s the square root of 1,369?’

Maxine tried to guess. Trial and error. 20 squared was 400, so bigger, 30 squared was 900, so between 30 and 40. Let’s try 33, now…

‘Far too slow, girl. You! What’s the answer? Quickly.’

‘37, Sir,’ said Julie. Had she played this game before or was she just plain cleverclogs?

‘Very good. Name?’ He looked angry.

‘Julie, Sir.’

‘Ah, Julie,’ he said quietly, ‘you were the one Mrs White caught smoking and doing something disgusting with a boy behind the bicycle sheds, weren’t you.’

‘No, Sir.’

‘Oh, so you’re a lying little slut as well. Stand up.’

Julie stood up.

‘And you. Come out, both of you.’

They went to the front as he paced up and down pompously. Opening his desk, he produced a cane and a slipper. He looked at Maxine.

‘You, over the desk. Six for not calling me Sir and six on the bare for not doing your homework.’

It was inevitable, she supposed. Maxine lay across the big desk, gripping the edge and waiting for the beating and the vile sex act that would certainly follow. He walked round the desk and lifted her pleated skirt. She waited, gritting her teeth.

‘Tell me what you did with that boy, Julie.’

‘I… Er, I kissed him, Sir.’

‘Where?’

‘Behind the sheds, Sir.’

‘Six on the bare for insolence. Did he show you one of these?’

The man undid his buttons and waved a small, semi-erect penis at Julie.

‘Yes, Sir,’ said Julie with a tone of resignation.

‘And you kissed it, didn’t you?’

Yes, Sir.’

‘On your knees, girl. Show me what you did.’

Julie sank to her knees beside Maxine’s parted legs. Maxine could just see her cropped head over the desktop, bobbing up and down. The swish and sting of the cane took Maxine by surprise and she let out an ‘ouch’. She’d never had the luxury of being allowed to keep her pants on for a caning. It still hurt but she managed to remain silent for the remaining five stinging blows.

‘Stand up.’

Julie replaced Maxine over the desk. He lifted her skirt and pulled her pants off completely, putting them in his trouser pocket. ‘Give me yours too,’ he said, holding out a hand. Maxine removed and handed the white knickers to him.

His little prick was still only half erect. It glistened with Julie’s saliva. He was feeling Julie obscenely between the legs. He turned to Maxine.

‘Kneel here. Show me what filthy things you do to boys with your mouth.’

Maxine knelt and took the little thing in her hand, kissing its tip and pushing back the foreskin with her well-practised lips. Julie’s gasps and howls filled the room as Maxine sucked and wanked. He was getting a little harder now. He must have handed out about twenty blows. The man’s stench filled her nostrils. When he pushed Maxine away, Julie was marked quite badly. He was touching her again.

‘And did the boy put it in this hole too?’

Julie was silent.

‘Like this?’ he said, as he pushed his cock into her.

‘Like this?’ as his hips began to pump.

Julie started crying out ‘oh yes’s, and ‘you’re so good’s, followed by evidently fake cries of orgasm.

The man pulled out eventually and had the girls swap round again. His six strokes again were bearable. Like Julie, Maxine faked it noisily while he fucked her, hoping that he would come and get it over with. If he did ejaculate, Maxine couldn’t feel it inside her when he pulled out.

‘Fetch me a drink,’ he ordered.

‘What would you like, Sir?’ asked Julie.

‘Scotch. Bring the bottle.’

‘That will be extra, Sir.’

He slapped her face. ‘Impudent whore. Bring it at once.’

Julie fled and returned with a bottle, glass and ice bucket. In the meanwhile he had just stood there, playing with his cock and leering at Maxine. He poured and downed a tumblerfull of whisky.

‘That’s better. Now what else did that boy do? Did he touch these?’ He was groping Julie’s almost nonexistent tits.

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Show me.’

Julie started massaging her chest.

‘No. Show me on her. Show me how he kissed and undressed you and felt your little titties.’

Julie raised Maxine from her still recumbent position across the desk and kissed her with surprising tenderness and passion. Maxine remembered her lovemaking with Althea and her cunt flooded as she returned the kiss, probing Julie’s mouth with her tongue. At least it was better than being up close with that stinking toad.

Julie loosened Maxine’s tie and unbuttoned her shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of her skirt and running her hands up her back to unfasten the undersized bra. Maxine couldn’t help moaning when Julie’s hands reached her boobs. ‘If only we were alone. If only she would touch me down there,’ she thought.

Without warning, the man wrenched Julie away and forced Maxine to her knees. His prick pumped frantically in her mouth and soon spurted its load. She let it trickle down her chin as she watched him button up and pour more whisky. As he swigged it, he changed back into his jacket and put a ten pound note under the bottle as if to remind them that they were tarts for sale.

As soon he was gone, Maxine spat the sticky stuff out into the glass and took Julie in her arms. ‘Don’t,’ the girl said as frantic fingers found her clit. ‘Aaah! Aaah! Stop. It’s not allowed. Aaaaaaa!’

Maxine held her as the orgasm convulsed her slender frame, kissing her face and neck.

‘That was wonderful’ said Julie, ‘but we’ll be punished for it.’

‘Yes, you will,’ said a deeper voice. Mother was standing in the doorway.

Tags: Fetish, Story