Slave to My Indian Maid Ch. 16 - Sex Stories

Slave to My Indian Maid Ch. 16

... day. No longer were they limited to Mondays and Thursdays.

"Who is it?" Rashida's voice thundered through the closed door.

"It's me, Tarek." I answered.

"Come in,baba!"

"Thank you,bua."

I opened the door and entered and shut the door behind me. A faint and pleasant scent greeted my nose; Rashida had lit up some incense. It was a hot and humid night, and the air conditioner in her room struggled to keep the temperature down.

Rashida was sitting on the bed, her legs up, reading a magazine. She hardly bothered to look up as I entered. I walked to one corner of the room, and turned so that my back was to her and my face to the corner, and then I started to undress. First, I took off my shirt which I folded carefully and placed on the dresser nearby. Then I unbuckled my trousers, moved down the zipper, and slid out of my pants. I folded the trousers and kept it on top of the shirt. I was now stark naked, in my birthday suit, facing the wall, standing there meekly awaiting the punishment of my maid servant. It was a routine familiar to me, one that I was used to and submitted to for the last several years. And I think over three times in the last twenty four hours alone.

Rashida let me stand in "corner time" for a full ten minutes. It was her way of making sure I knew who the boss was (as if I needed any reminding!). Yes, I was the employer, the owner, and she was my maid servant - but she was the boss.

Standing there in silence, while not knowingwhen she ...

... would call me, andwhat I had done, andhow she was going to punish me - my mind played all sort of tricks on me and my imagination ran riot. Finally, when she did call me, it was a relief.

"Baba!" Rashida ordered, "Go get that chair from the corner, and please place it in the centre of the room."

"Yes,bua."

My maid servant rose ponderously from the bed, the bed creaking as she got up. As she made her way to the chair, her big breasts swayed from side to side, and like always, it seemed they would just burst out from the blouse that contained them. The blouse - always one size smaller - clung sharply to her body and I could see the faint outline of her areole. Rashida wasn't wearing a bra. She hardly ever wore a bra nowadays, and sometimes when she worked, I would see the faint outline of sweat around her nipple through the thin material of her blouse.

Her sari, draped haphazardly around her big body, left her ample midriff completely bare, with her belly button exposed. When she turned around, I could see the sari creep into the crack of her giant buttocks. Rashida, my lovely maid servant, was big.

Rashida sat down on the chair, and then turned to me.

"Baba, what are you waiting for? Please come here and assume the position! Over my knees!"

"Yes,bua."

I went over to submit myself. Gently I placed myself across her lap, over her knees. My flaccid dick smacked against her thighs - a thin layer of her sari separating my member from her flesh, and I dared not ...