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From: lebny@hotmail.com
Subject: (lebny) Maid to Serve Sri Lankans Part 1/2 (Femdom, inter, humil, n/c)
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"What's this?" asked Martin, picking up a grubby dollar bill from his pillow.
Damika fixed him with an angry stare and at once he changed his tone. "I'm
sorry Madam Damika. May I ask why you have given me this money?" Damika
sneered. "This your pay whore. You say you want to be whore, this your pay.
You cheap whore, do anything for one dollar." She looked at Martin's stunned
expression and laughed. "What matter whore? One dollar too much for white
slut? Maybe 50 cents better!" "No Madam, it is the correct amount. I am your
one dollar whoreboy, your cheap white whore." "Not only whore, asslicker
too." said Damika, sliding out of the bed. "Madam get up now. I need toilet.
When I finish you clean with tongue, lick Madam's ass good then give Madam
shower. Then Madam need breakfast. Come, follow Madam to bathroom pig."
Martin knelt on all fours and crawled behind Damika as the beautiful young
Sri Lankan girl walked slowly to the bathroom, gently swaying her lovely
brown ass. She did not bother to glance back at the white man who followed
her like a dog or as she preferred to say a pig. As she sat on the toilet and
began to relieve herself he bowed down before her, his head pressed to the
cold marble floor. A kick to his face from her small but strong foot informed
him she was ready to be cleaned. He raised his head and found her bent over
the toilet seat her ass thrust upward towards him. He kissed each ass cheek
reverently then gently prised them apart and inserted his tongue inside her
crack, licking and cleaning as he had been instructed. As he did so tears ran
silently down his cheek. Of all his new duties this was the one he hated
most, disgusting and degrading it reduced him to no more than Damika's living
asswipe. Nothing could be lower. Unobserved by her pig Damika looked back at
his tears and smiled. She always felt a rush of pleasure when she saw how far
he was willing to degrade himself to please her. It gave her a feeling of
strength and power that never lost its intoxicating effect. For a woman who
had spent most of her young life in service to others, who like so many Sri
Lankans had left her native country for this faraway land just to clean
another's toilets, it was like a drug. She had never dreamed that she would
ever be anything more than a maid but now she was like a Queen, a Goddess.
She had been the pig's maid once, slaving away all day to clean his home,
wash his clothes, cook his food, all for a pittance of a wage. He had been a
cruel master, never satisfied, complaining so loudly and bitterly that it
brought tears to her eyes and docking her wages for the slightest mistake. He
had had a white girlfriend when they first met, Susan was her name. She had
been an arrogant bitch, treating Damika like dirt and beating her whenever
she was in a bad mood which was often. Of course that was only when Martin
wasn't around. Whatever his faults he had never resorted to physical violence
and condemned it bitterly in other employers. Susan had another habit she
indulged in when Martin was at work, she liked to amuse herself with Damika,
fondling her ass, breasts and pussy while she worked, forcing her to work
naked or forcing her  to pleasure her by licking her cunt as she drank wine
on the balcony. She always insulted Damika during these sessions calling her
her "little darkie slut" and laughing as the Sri Lankan girl wept. Damika was
always sick after these sessions and cried for hours in her room. Martin
found her thus one evening and saw the bruises on her body too. He demanded
an explanation and when, between sobs, she managed to give him one he flew
into an almighty rage. At first Damika thought he was angry with her for
complaining about Susan and cowered on her bed but it was to Susan's room
that Martin stormed and it was she who found herself out on the streets that
night. Martin came to her room with various ointments and creams and applied
them gently to her battered body. His hands were soft and gentle, his touch
loving and he smiled warmly as he worked on her. It was then Damika realised
that this successful white executive might actually find her attractive and a
plan began to form in her mind, a plan to make herself more than a maid. Her
uniform grew gradually shorter and more revealing, her poses more
provocative, every bend designed to reveal a glimpse of her breasts or her
panties. She was a slim girl with dark skin, fine features, small, firm
breasts, a tight ass and flowing long black hair, a true exotic beauty and it
was not long before Martin, his bed empty now began to fall increasingly
under her spell, savouring every glimpse of her hidden form. He found himself
spying on her as she slept in her short nightdress, her sheets tossed off,
one bare leg dangling over the side of the bed	as the nightie rode up over
her ass exposing her panties to him. He was even able on occasion to watch as
she showered, his hand on his crotch as he harden at the sight of her firm
young body in all its naked glory. Eventually he found himself sneaking into
her empty room to kiss and sniff her "carelessly" discarded panties. He never
once suspected that all his supposedly secret activities were being carefully
orchestrated by his maid. Although it was obvious that Martin was becoming
increasingly infatuated with her, he could barely hide the erections that
sprang up whenever she was near him, Damika never feared that he might be
tempted to assault her in any way. She had done some spying of her own in her
time in Martin's house and she knew all about his relationship with Susan,
knew how in the bedroom Susan treated him the same way she had treated
Damika, as her slut, her slave. Yes, her bullying master enjoyed being a
slave in the bedroom, enjoyed being dominated by a woman. and soon he would
be dominated by her. Strange Damika was to reflect later that the woman she
hated most in all the world was also the one who had shown her the key to a
new future. Finally, one hot sultry evening when she had seen Martin stand at
her doorway masturbating as he gazed on her naked, sweating body before
fleeing as he sensed she was awake, she walked slowly, still naked to his
bedroom where he tossed and turned unable to sleep in the heat of the night
and his desires. His mouth opened wide but he was too surprised to speak as
his maid, the object of all his fantasies of submission in recent weeks stood
beside his bed, naked in all her perfect beauty, arms on hips as she stared
down at him with the cold contempt he had often imagined on her face. "You
want Damika yes?" she demanded, although it was more a statement than a
question. Martin nodded his head weakly. His raging erection, only inches
from her, made denial useless. "Damika let you please her but there is rules.
You agree or Damika no let you please her. You agree?" She looked
questioningly down at Martin. Looking up at her face, so beautiful and proud
he felt he was in the presence of a Goddess just as in all the femdom stories
he had read. "What are the rules?" he asked hoarsely "First this. Damika maid
but in this room she boss you servant boy. I give orders you obey understand?
You do anything I say." Martin nodded. This really was a fantasy come to
life! He could barely control his desire to cum. "In bedroom my name Madam
Damika. You no got name unless I give you. Anything I call you you accept.
Agree?" "Yes Madam Damika, I agree." said Martin, bowing his head. "I wan to
be your slave, your whore. I  will be a good whore I promise." "You better be
good whore or Madam  punish you!" snapped Damika "Now out of bed slave. Get
down kiss Madam's feet. Show her you her slave now!" Hurriedly Martin
scrambled from the bed and crouched at Damika's feet, obediently kissing each
of her feet in turn. Damika laughed. The sight of her white "boss" grovelling
at her feet both amused and thrilled her. For the first of many times to come
she felt the incredible pleasure that came from power over men. She had never
felt so hot, never felt such such electric shocks of pleasure in her pussy.
She was already moist as she gave her next order, using language she had
learned from observing Susan in action. "Pig hard but Madam no want cock
tonight. Madam want to see white pig wank. Wank for Madam pig boy!" Martin
tried to stand but Damika's foot on his neck forced him down. "No stand. You
pig, wank like pig!" And so Martin remained on all fours, head bowed
supporting himself on one hand as he masturbated with the other. Watching him
Damika unconsciously began to finger herself, masturbating in time with her
slave. So lost was he in his real-life fantasy that it was only a short time
before Martin shot his load, jets of white cum spurting all over the carpet.
At once Damika stopped masturbating and fixed him with an angry glare. "Pig
cum no nice on floor. Madam take long time to clean. Now you clean like pig.
Lick cum. Lick now!" Martin hesitated, he had never gone as far as this with
Susan, but Damika was not to be trifled with. Seizing him roughly by the neck
she savagely rubbed his nose in the cum. "See how dirty you pig! Now lick or
Madam get angry!" Martin opened his mouth and Damika slapped his face, hard.
"No talk! Lick!" And Martin licked, hard and fast, partly because he knew
this was the only way he would ever get to taste Damika's lovely body and
partly because this was what he had so often dreamed of, to be humiliated and
degraded by a beautiful woman. Watching him obediently at his work Damika
knew instinctively that there would be no going back now. A man who would
degrade himself like this would do anything she wanted. He belonged to her
now. Once finished Martin looked up expectantly at his new Mistress. Inflamed
by her overwhelming passions Damika could wait no longer. She lay down on the
bed, her legs apart and snapped her fingers. "Come pig! Lick Madam's pussy!"
Martin obeyed with alacrity and Damika soon learned that Susan had trained
him well as his tongue teased and tormented her pussy lips and cliterus
before he licked and sucked her to climax after climax, climaxes which were
stronger than any she had ever experienced. If only she had had the chance to
be a dominatrix earlier. When she had finally had enough and sank back, her
body exhausted by pleasure Damika allowed Martin to suckle on her big nipples
as a special treat until they both fell asleep. In the morning Martin thanked
his Mistress for the pleasure she had allowed him the night before and kissed
her tight ass cheeks in gratitude. Then Damika rose and went to her room to
dress before preparing her master's breakfast. For some time their
relationship continued like this, Damika ruling the roost in the bedroom
while continuing to serve Martin as his maid the rest of the time. Indeed his
attitude as her employer did not change. her salary did not increase one
penny and he was still a criticising bully. At first Damika contented herself
by taking her revenge in the bedroom, spanking and slapping Martin whenever
he had annoyed or bullied her, giving him humiliating tasks to perform or
denying him sexual contact. She was always aware, however, that however
respectful Martin was in the bedroom he still regarded her most of the time
as his hireling. He kept the two aspects of their lives entirely separate 
and neither her material position or her position in the household had
improved. This was not what Damika wanted and as she felt her sexual hold
over him grow to the extent that he had to have her in his room every single
night and would do anything she commanded just for a simple touch or taste of
her body, she set about attaining the station she desired so much. It started
in the bedroom as she ordered him to dress in her uniform, to parade up and
down in it, to masturbate in it, to make love to her in it, to wear it night
after night until he put it on without even a word from her eagerly hoping
for her approval. Then before the sex games began she would give him chores
to perform, fetching her food and drink and cleaning her room or her shoes
(with his tongue, naturally) or washing her clothes (tonguing her worn
panties was his particular favourite). As Damika's sexual favours became
increasingly difficult to obtain, entailing an ever increasing number of
what, for a rich man like Martin, were humiliating chores so his desire for
her grew ever stronger. He began to realise, as Damika had hoped he would,
that his greatest, if not only, pleasure in life came from serving her
whether as her bedwhore or as her maid. And so it was that little by little
Martin came to do everything in the house while Damika became a lady of
leisure content to e waited upon hand and foot by her white pig maid who was
now so in her thrall that he lived only to serve his Mistress. The bullying
Master of old was dead and buried replaced by a compliant white maid who was
bullied and nagged in his turn by an arrogant Sri Lankan Goddess and who
thanked her daily for the generosity she shown in selecting him to be her
slave and showered her with gifts and money. As for Damika, she revelled in
her power and the pleasure it gave her. From a squalid room in a Colombo slum
she had now rise to become Mistress of a large house with a white man dressed
as a maid at her beck and call. Her every sexual whim and fantasy was
indulged by this same white whore. She had money, dressed in fine clothes,
dined in expensive restaurants. She had reached the summit of her former
ambitions. Yet Damika was not content. The more her power over Martin grew
the more she needed to degrade him in order to maintain the same level of
intensity in her passions. For her the act of dominance was infinitely more
stimulating than sex itself, though that too was fantastic Martin having been
trained to satisfy all her urges to perfection. It was this need for ever
greater control that had led her to make him her asswipe, to begin paying him
for his services, to demonstrate that he was nothing more than her hireling
whore and that he could never aspire to be her lover or equal. And she found
hat the more she degraded him the more degradation Martin craved. Long
submissive despite a swaggering professional career Damika's domination of
him had brought all his most repressed desires to the fore. He was falling
headlong into a bottomless pit of humiliation and degradation and loving
every minute of it.  ********** Once he had cleaned Damika's ass to her
satisfaction Martin ran her shower and bathed her adoringly, rubbing soap
over her entire body and gently stimulating her nipples and clit with his
fingers. Only when she had cum was he allowed to dry her, again stimulating
her as he dried her. Then it was time to dress her in sheer silk panties, a
half-cut bra of the same translucent material, a clinging sleeveless red
dress that barely covered her ass and had a plunging neckline. The ensemble
was completed by a red chiffon scarf and knee high black leather boots
lovingly polished by Martin's tongue. "You like pig?" asked Damika, admiring
herself in the mirror. "Madam is even more beautiful than usual." replied
Martin in all sincerity as he knelt at her feet. Damika looked down and
smiled at his erection. "Thank you pig. Madam must look good for her lover.
He come visit today. You like him. Very handsome boy. He like white whores
too much." She smiled broadly, flashing her perfect white teeth as Martin
trembled at her feet. Damika had often teased him about taking a Sri Lankan
lover ("a real man with a big brown cock") but he had never taken her
seriously until now. In a cold sweat he pondered how distant she had been
lately, as if she was hiding something yet strangely happy, how he had been
forbidden to touch her with his "little white maggot" for almost two weeks
now. Was this the reason why? Who was this man? hat would happen to him now?
Would Madam still want her slave? As these confused thoughts raced through
his mind he failed to notice Damika growing angry. Only a slap across his
face woke him up. "Breakfast!" snarled his Mistress He served the food on the
terrace, kneeling as always at her feet, begging like a dog for scraps to
fill the dog bowl Damika had bought him for Christmas. This was the only way
he ate now. Her meal finished Damika motioned with her hand for him to clear
away the dishes. Once he had washed up he made to dress for work but Damika
stopped him. "You no go office today. You say sick. This big day for Madam.
Lover come. He want see maid. You clean house good for Master then you start
work. You whore now. You make money for Madam Plenty customers come today."
For a moment Martin was paralysed. What the hell was happening? Was her lover
really coming? Were other guests really coming? No-one except he and Damika
knew what went on inside these walls. To the outside world he was  still
Master and she Maid. Was she really going to expose him to public ridicule? A
faint voice inside him told him to resist but he knew he was too far gone
down the road of servitude to do anything but obey. Without a word he crept
to his room to put on his uniform. Damika meanwhile, smiled at his very
obvious confusion. Who knew what would happen today? Only one thing was
certain. It really was a big day for her. Martin hurriedly pulled on a pair
of Madam's old panties and slid into the micro-skirted black dress that was
his uniform. It was topped by a frilly white apron and cap. He put on his
black fishnet stockings, pulling them up over his hairless legs, waxed like
the rest of his body on his Mistress' instructions, applied his garish red
lipstick and rouge and stepped gingerly into his heels. Maid Martin cleaned
and washed energetically for the next 2-3 hours while his Mistress relaxed
reading magazines  and watching TV pausing occasionally to fondle his ass and
balls or clip him round the ear as she criticised him for some mistake in his
work Truth to tell, however, Martin was now a very accomplished maid and his
work was of a much higher standard than Damika's had ever been. Martin had
just finished all his chores and was congratulating himself on a job well
done when the doorbell rang. "Answer pig." called Damika from the living room
"Maybe you lucky, got customer already!" His hands shaking Martin nervously
opened the door. Standing on the doorstep was a plump middle-aged Sri Lankan
lady he recognised at once as Patma, the maid of two of his closest friends.
Only the week before he had dined there and Patma had waited on him, eyes
downcast, respectfully addressing him as "Sir". There was no respect on her
face now only contemptuous amusement as she stared directly into the his
eyes. Patma waved her hand and Martin stepped aside to allow her to enter,
bowing as she passed. She smiled at the gesture. "You very polite maid." she
said, pinching his ass as he closed the door "Damika train her bitch good.
Now we see if you good slut too. See Madam Patma got money for slut. You do
good Madam pay you." Martin turned to see Patma waving a torn dollar bill in
his face. "Madam Patma is very kind." he said, head lowered "Yes." grinned
Patma "Where Damika?" Martin led the way to the living room, the eager Patma
fondling his ass the whole length of the hallway, much to his embarrassment.
"Madam Patma Madam." he announced on entering the room, bending so low that
the dress rode up over his ass allowing Patma's lecherous hands a clear
target. "Fetch drinks for guest pig!" ordered Damika Relieved, Martin hurried
to the kitchen to fix drinks for the two Sri Lankans. When he returned to the
living room he found them laughing and chatting together in their native
Sinhala. They took the drinks and then Damika pointed to Patma's feet. "Madam
Patma's sandals dirty. Clean with white pig tongue! Now!" Without hesitation
Martin dropped to his knees and began licking the dirty soles that Patma
turned up to him. Patma looked on in amazement and amusement. "You teach him
good Damika." she said in her broken English so Martin would understand "I
never think white pig do like this." "White pigs ugly but useful." said
Damika "He even clean ass with tongue too." Patma gasped. "Maybe he clean my
ass?" "You pay for whore he do anything you want. You got money?" Laughing,
Patma handed over the dollar bill. Damika waved it under Martin's nose. "See
pig, Madam pimp now. Sell you to Madam Patma. Go to bedroom. She no happy I
punish bitch good." Madam Patma stood and Martin led the older woman to the
bedroom. Once inside Patma hurriedly closed the door and turned the key. When
she turned to face Martin her face was full of lust. "Take off clothes. Patma
like men not girls. Show Patma cock!" Martin did as he had been instructed
and stripped. He still felt embarrassed about being treated in this way by
someone who worked for his friends but he also found the humiliation
extremely exciting as his erect cock showed. Patma too was excited by the
sight of his naked body. Her hands roamed freely over his smooth, hairless
frame before lingering on his cock and balls, her gentle strokes causing him
to shudder as he fought to control himself. "Damika no lie. White cock very
pretty. Not big like brown cock but pretty. This first time Patma see white
cock. She like. Now strip Patma. When you strip you please Patma." Slowly,
very slowly, Martin removed Patma's clothing piece by piece. He started by
gently massaging her shoulders as he stood behind her, his hands also
reaching upwards to stroke her long greying hair. Then he turned her round
and while kissing her long and lingeringly on the lips he unbuttoned her
white blouse and massaged her soft breasts through her bra. The blouse
removed he turned her again and pulled down the zip on the back of her cheap
black skirt. Nuzzling his mouth on her neck he inserted a hand inside the
skirt and fondled her plump ass, his finger running down her crack and
causing her to flinch. Then he unbuttoned the skirt and as it fell he knelt
and kissed each of her ass cheeks, which he fond surprisingly cool. Patma
stepped out of the skirt and Martin raised himself up and unhooked her bra
before placing his hands on her large, sagging breasts and strongly massaging
them. As they grew firmer in his hands he spun Patma once more and placed his
mouth on her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples as his hands stroked
and fondled her ass. Then he dropped down, kissing her rounded belly, his
tongue lapping around her button. Then, on his knees, he kissed the crotch of
her panties causing her to gasp with pleasure. Martin pulled down the
panties, Patma stepped out of them and Martin pressed his mouth to her hairy
bush, licking and sucking as Patma clutched him to her and gasped and moaned
as she grew increasingly excited before finally coming in his face. "Good
good slut!" she breathed, her face flushed, as she released him and stepped
onto the bed. "Patma pleased." Martin made to join her but Patma shook her
hand. "Not yet. First slut dance for Patma. Then slut fuck Patma." She placed
a cassette in the tape payer, Eastern music and clapped her hands. Upon her
signal Martin began to dance lewdly, swaying his hips ad thrusting his chest,
ass and cock towards Patma's groping hands.  At last when he was hot and
sweaty Patma consented to turn off the tape "You dance like slut. In old days
sluts dance for King in palace before he fuck them. Now slut dance for Patma
an she fuck him!" She spread her legs wide and pointed to her pussy. "Lick
bitch!" Once again Martin placed his tongue on her cunt as she locked her
legs around him and pressed his head down with her hands.Three times she came
before she pushed her slut onto his back and mounted his erect cock. She
placed his hands on her big breasts and began to fuck him. She was loud in
her lovemaking, moaning and groaning as she rode the white man's cock. She
came twice, noisily, before he was allowed to climax then she lay back on the
bed, a contented smile on her face and took Martin in her broad arms. She
pressed his face to her breasts and ordered him to suck which he did
willingly. "You good fuck." she said stroking his hair. "Patma happy. You
worth one dollar." she laughed "Patma no fuck for long time. Husband send her
out Sri Lanka to work maid. She two years here now, no holidays, no go Sri
Lanka. All time alone. All time work work work. Slut's friends very bad. No
pay good, all time angry. Patma no like white people but like slut. Slut know
how to serve Sri Lankan people. Know how to please them. Patma wish she got
slut like you." "But you won't tell my friends will you?" asked Martin in a
sudden panic. Patma smiled. "Patma no tell. You her secret but when you come
you be nice to Patma, always ask polite no give orders. Maybe you come see
Patma in kitchen, let her play." "I promise to respect and obey you always
Madam." said Martin Patma rubbed his head as she would a favourite pet. "Good
slut. And Patma promise come visit slut here many times. Fuck you many
times." She kissed his forehead. "Now get up. Dress Patma. Time to see
Damika."




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