Breaking Charlotte: From Maid to Chained Bitch in One Night

June heat sticks to my skin. Charlotte’s dusting, bent over the dresser. Her uniform skirt rides up, fat ass cheeks peeking. Perfect view. I call her over. She stands, hands folded over thick thighs, eyes down.

“Sit.” Low armchair forces her knees high. She crosses legs tight. I slap her thigh hard. Crack echoes. “Legs open, bitch.” She uncrosses fast. White cotton panties flash. Innocent slut.

The Approach

I pitch it: summer work, full-time. She’s broke, can’t pay rent. Offer room, food, no pay. Just service. “Dressage,” I say. Train her like a dog. She stammers. I push. Corner punishment: naked knees on rough mat, 30 minutes.

She cleans vacuuming sloppy. “Move the table, stupid cow.” Silence. I stare, inspect her bulging tits, short skirt. Hand on nape, soft: “For your good, puppy.”

Evening. She polishes mirror, back turned. I touch her back. Sit strict. She stands, hands behind. Silence stretches. “Five grand check or stay? Last chance.”

Tears roll. “Dress me, please. I’m your little bitch.” I hug, stroke hair. Contract ready. Movers trashed her shit—old baggy clothes gone. She’s hysterical. “Bed, no dinner.”

The Explosion

Morning. She’s in uniform, setting breakfast. Me in silk skirt, sheer top, no panties. Nipples poke. Contract signed. “Panties off.” She sniffs her sweaty crotch rag. “Smells like horny slut juice.”

“Show me what you did last night.” Push her on sofa. Skirt up, no panties. Legs clamped. I flash my shaved pussy. Her fingers dive in. Sloppy wet sounds. Clit rubs frantic. Inner lips glisten pink. Tits jiggle under blouse.

Stop her mid-build. “No cumming. Dress, shop.” No panties. Metro: toss hers in trash. Flash mine gone too. Public humbling: shops. “Size 46, hide those rolls.” “Vulgar whore tits spilling out.” “Shorts so tiny, pussy flashes.” Blushes crimson.

Home. She cooks nude under uniform. Bedtime. Burst in her tiny room. Kid bed, bars. Rip sheet. “No covers. Door off soon. Full view.” Finger her pussy casual. “Dry? Good girl.” But she’s soaked, twitching.

“Horny?” Tears. “Yes, need to rub.” Cuffs: wrists, ankles to bars. Spread eagle, tits heaving, clit swollen. “Sweet dreams, pet.” Door clicks shut.