Chapter 1 - Failure

 

One of the stewardesses on the flight was well, so, so sexy, she just oozed sex appeal, and she kept returning to me, offering me more drinks. Now I am not ugly by any means, and we chatted. She was into space travel, was it possible, if so, would we meet aliens?

My view was that we would need a totally new form of propulsion, one that would drive us along at Warp one, (the speed of light), to stand any chance of exploring space, even so it would be a ten year-round trip to the nearest solar system, and there was no planet there that could support life, none of them were in the Goldilocks zone.

"Yes, but there are experiments on going that could bend space, create a worn hole, or hyperspace, now we could visit, other planets," she argued.

"The best way to visit other planets is when you have an orgasm, and to me that is as close as you get to visiting, other planets. We will land on Mars, in time, but farther afield, I doubt it. So even if there is life on other planets we will never know," I said glibly.

"Are you suggesting that you can take me to, another planet? I have never heard it called that, before," she said cocking her head to one side, enquiringly.

"Now that you suggest it, I wouldn't mind finding out, does this mean that we join the mile high club?" I asked.

"Five mile high, more like it," she said, and took my hand.

She let go as we passed the other passengers, down the cabin to the crew area, where she pushed me onto a settee.

"Mandy, give me half, no make it ten seconds, will you?" My companion asked the stewardess by the door, "On long haul flights we have two crews, and this is where the crew off duty, rest. I am now off duty for two hours.

You look like a man who likes to be controlled, do you have a Mistress, or are you looking for one?" She asked me.

Was it the way I seemed to need help quite often during the early flight, or just my demeanour. Whatever it was, I was enthralled by the invitation, and her perceptiveness.

"I don't know what you mean. Are we going to fuck, or just talk?" I asked her, eager to avoid being interrupted.

"Wow, you don't mess about do you? Well, neither do I, put your left hand by the pole here," she told me.

Don't ask why, but I did as told, and she tied it to the pole with her stocking. She removed the other stocking, and told me to put my right hand by the pole on the other side, and she tied that one as well.

"Now let me see what you have in store for me," she said unzipping my trousers. She put her hand inside, and felt at my manhood, "Hum, needs help, like the owner, six times I came to help you, do you think I have nothing better to do than keep coming, to you?" She asked me.

"You didn't seem to mind," I said, "By the way, it is big and strong, but not strong enough to pierce your panties, presuming you are, wearing, a pair?" I asked.

"Oh yes, I am wearing a pair," she said.

"Well then get them off, and make me hard, then you can ride me, I am going nowhere," I said looking at my tied hands.

"I will when I am ready, like I said, this is my time off duty, and I am in no hurry. I think we need a bit of peace and quiet," she said, and took her panties off; she screwed them up carefully, as I watched her. She seemed to make sure the gusset was in the right place, and then put her hand on my groin, and began to press. I opened my mouth to complain, and she stuffed them in my mouth, and put tape over my lips. I was shocked, realising that she had it ready, she must have planned this.

Gagged she walked away, and then returned in her bra, her shaven clit clearly visible, as she strode back towards me. OK, for the two steps, but she did it with such grace, and effort, it looked a lot longer than it was.

"Now," she said, as she undid my trousers, and yanked them down and off after my shoes. She then took my socks off, and then my under pants. She stood towering over me, looking down on my cock as if examining it carefully. She lifted it with a finger, sighed, and pushed it to one side then the other.

"Hum, is that it?" she asked me.

"Hum, harrumph, hum," I said.

"Don't speak with your mouth full, it is bad manners. Now, how to begin, first of all, you can nod so we will begin with some questions. Do you have a Mistress?" she asked me, and I shook my head.

"Interesting, I would suggest you get one, you need to be controlled. Has this," she said, lifting my cock with her finger, "ever seen the inside of a woman?" She asked me, I nodded.

"Really, and did she come back for more, or run a mile? No, did she come back for more?" She asked.

It was a one night stand, so I answered honestly shaking my head, I never saw her again.

"I see, she was that disappointed, interesting. Given encouragement, does it stand up?" she asked, fiddling with my cock, I nodded, and as if to prove it, it began to firm up.

"I see you as a Sissy Maid, have you ever been a Sissy Maid?" She asked me, I shook my head.

"Are you interested in becoming one?" She asked.

I waited a moment, this was not going as I expected; I just wanted to fuck her. 'What is she waiting for?' I began to wonder.

She ripped open my shirt, and ripped the sleeves off; well she did use a pair of scissors to cut the sleeves off.

"I am a dominant; that means that I do as I want, and everybody else does, as I say. After this trip, I am on sabbatical for six months, and I need someone to clean my apartment, for me. Tied down, and vulnerable to my whims, are you interested in being my maid?" She asked me.

What was it about her that I had to think, I mean me a maid, never; yet here I was under her spell, I suppose, thinking, about the question.

"Undecided, well let me see now, how about if I told you that it would mean having sex with me, every night. Meals would be provided, and clothes, and seeing as you told me that you have just been made redundant, you are job hunting. Think about it, do you think the dole would be very happy knowing that you turned down a job, when you need one.

Oh, I get it, you are a sexist pig, and think a woman should be stood by the sink washing your dirty underpants, is that it?" She asked me, I shook my head, "So you agree that males should do the housework as well, do you?" she asked me, still fiddling with my almost erect cock, and I nodded feeling the arousal more so.

"So you agree that a man can keep house, just as well as a woman can, yet you, are not willing to prove it. You would rather live off the dole, than be a housekeeper. I did offer you the job, didn't I?" She asked me, and I reluctantly nodded, agreeing with her.

"So are you willing to prove that males are just as capable in the home, as a female?" She asked me, I nodded.

It was a job, so perhaps it was better to accept, than refuse. Seeing as my last job was as a print setter, with an old fashioned firm of printers, and nowadays they used computers, my job prospects were rather slim.

"Good, so we are in agreement; you will be my Sissy Maid for the next six months. Shall we now seal the deal?" She asked me, and I nodded.

She took my cock, and began to rub it; then she bent down and took me in her mouth, sucking on my cock. I think she was surprised as it firmed up, and grew into its full erect, and powerful, love machine.

She carried on sucking on it; then she stood, and then knelt over me, and lowered down, enveloping me inside her clit and cunt. She rose so, so gracefully, and then descended so, so slowly. Up and down, smiling, throwing her head back as she felt my manhood sliding in and out of her well-oiled clit, and cunt. She was revelling in the feelings as he slipped in and out so gracefully. She began to move faster and faster, the problem was that she had taken me too far, fiddling with my cock for so long, and I was aching to shoot my load.

She was by now ramming me in hard and fast, crushing her breasts, those two huge melons, firm and full, like they were jelly balloons. Her finger and thumb crushed her nipple, and then I shot my load into her, and she came to rest.

"Hum needs practice, a lot of practice, I was no-where near ready, and you as expected, I suppose, being a sexist pig, just satisfied yourself, you selfish cunt. Mind you I did tell Mandy to give us ten seconds, if it lasted that long. Typical, a two second wonder, up shoot, and out, and thank you ma'am. Why oh why, can I not find a man, a real man, who has endurance, and gives me an orgasm. I suppose the earth moved for you, but me, well, I never even felt an aftershock," she said apparently disappointed.

As for me, I was gagged, and couldn't explain that she had taken me too far. Had she given me something to lick instead of just sucking on my cock, then she would have been nearer to her orgasm, and she would have had one. Fuck, she had spent half a fucking hour fiddling with my cock, before she sucked me off, what chance, did I have?

"Well if that is it, I suppose I had better go back to work, we will soon be landing," she told me, dressed, and walked out leaving me tied to the poles.

She returned, and tied my ankles to the couch legs, one to each leg, and turned, smiled at me, and left.

"By the way, I do not trust anyone, so don't go away, will you? I will expect to see you still here ready to join me when I leave," she said, and closed the door, and locked it.

I had agreed to this, why, oh why, had I agreed, yet there was a sense of excitement about the situation. My dreams were of being kidnapped, and made to do as told by a superior woman. Was this to be the case; was I ready for the excitement, and challenges of being a slave, to a dominant woman?

I suppose it was too late now to regret my agreement, it was time to embrace the situation, and make the most of it.

The woman was everything a man desires in a woman, a rather large breast, firm and full, a trim waist, and shapely legs, a clit shaven, and eager for a hard, throbbing cock. If only she would allow me to lead, and make her as ready for my cock as I was for her cunt. Rather than taking me so far it was impossible to hold on, for her. Was that what she intended, the bitch? She knew what she was doing, making me fail, just so she could make me her Sissy Maid, whatever that is?

I know how to clean, and I do clean, so that isn't a problem, and washing her underwear, does not worry me. So if that is what she wanted, then I am capable, and know what I am doing. These days there are so many tools to help with cleaning; it isn't the chore it was, years ago.

I remembered my mother stood by the twin tub with tongs in hand ready to dip into the steaming water for something. She was ready to put it through the mangle, wringing out the water, before hanging the clothes out on the line in our back yard, to the terraced house I grew up in.

Now you open the door, stuff the clothes in, and set it going, then when it stops, hang out the clothes on the line, so much easier.

As I lay there reminiscing, I remembered our next door neighbour, and her washing. A tub ribbed, she filled with hot water from a large pan on the gas stove, she added soap powder, and then dumped the clothes in. She picked up an odd looking thing she called a dolly, two handles on a pole, a round bit at the bottom and three legs sticking out. She rammed into the tub, and twisted it several times, then pulled out an item. She would then slap it on the scrubbing board, and scrubbed it with a scrubbing brush and soap, before dropping it back in. Then she lifted them out, and put them through the mangle. That was hard work.

They were not as fortunate as we were, they couldn't afford a washing machine even. My mother told me that was how it was done in Victorian times.

I digress, yet not, these were my thoughts, as I lay there feeling the effects of the plane descending. I hoped that we didn't crash, apart from the dire results, I was tied to a settee and naked; what would the rescue people think?

It does not do to dwell so much on those thoughts, so I thought about my next career, as a housekeeper, call it what she might that is what I was going to be. Then it struck me, she hadn't told me what my wages would be, five pounds an hour, less keep, probably?

The plane bumped twice as we landed, and then there was the scream of the engines as the pilot slowed it down to a slow progress down the taxi lanes to the airport. Here they would unload, and check passports. Fuck, passports, I couldn't go through customs like this, could I? What had she planned for this part, of the plan?

I needn't have worried; she knew exactly what she was doing, didn't she? The shame, the humiliation, as the customs people looked at me tied to the couch, whilst checking my passport, was yet to come, and it worried me.

 

Chapter 2 - Transport

 

I lay there waiting patiently, my mind in turmoil as to the reaction of the customs officials seeing me tied to the couch. I had forgotten that my Mistress was female, and had everything covered. It took some time before she stood there just inside the door way looking at me, and smiling.

"The plane is not needed until tomorrow, it needs a service. We are about to be taken to the hanger, where the servicing crew will begin work. They are to work on the engines, but a different crew will be exchanging the couch for a new one.

I have many happy memories of passengers occupying that couch, (you know, what I mean), and I bought it off, the company. As expected; I have the task of removing it. My removal people will be here in a few minutes, just enough time for me to ensure you, are safe.

I am sure you do not wish to be seen, so first I will make sure you can't see my removal people, and then I will make sure they cannot see you," she told me.

She unwrapped a sanitary towel, and stuck it over my eyes; then she put tape down from my fore head to my cheek, ensuring there were no gaps to allow me to see anything. Next I felt her covering me with something, and then tying ropes around me, and the couch, fixing me to the couch; it went across my ankles, thighs, abdomen, chest and finally my mouth.

"There now, you cannot fall off the couch even if they turn you upside down, but I like to be sure," she told me, and began work.

I could hear her moving about, as she did something. Then I felt her slip a rope under the ankle rope, and around then pull it tight. She then took the rope on up to my thighs, and around that rope, pulling it tight, and on up to my waist, and chest. Finally she seemed to put a knot in it over my mouth, making sure I could not speak, and pulled; then I heard her working as I presume she tied the end off.

"Ladies thank you so much, now we need to tilt the couch back, so that we can put the covers over the feet of the couch, and the hands of my slave," she said.

I felt the couch being tipped back, and then something being slipped over my right hand, and tied, and then they did the same to my foot, before lowering me down. I was tilted the opposite way, and they covered my left hand and foot, as before.

"Ladies, I am not that worried about the couch, or what lies on it, they are both disposable, but it would be a shame if the contents were damaged. So I would prefer it if you were careful when extricating it from the air plane. Try not to damage this end, if it needs to be stood, put it down on that end, please," she instructed the workers she had brought to move the couch, or was it to move me, was the couch a cover story?

The ladies she had spoken to, seemed to know that the couch was occupied; obviously they knew, they covered my hands and feet.

You know the sound of tape being pulled from a roll, well that was the next sound I heard, and then I felt it, as they wrapped the tape around me in various places, as if the ropes were not enough to keep me in place. Around my ankles, knees, thighs, hips, lower abdomen, they were really making sure I was held in place. They continued over my waist, chest, just below my neck, my mouth, fore head, and then around me length wise, over my shoulders.

I felt mummified, I couldn't move, as they finished, and lifted me up. I was twisted from my left to my right, and then stood up, and we climbed some stairs. The ones I went down with her into my place of incarceration, for that was now how it felt.

I accept that I had agreed to be her Sissy Maid, and that I allowed her to tie me to the couch, it was fun, but now the reality was coming to the fore. Just what, had I agreed to?

The fear of the unknown raised its ugly head, yet it was tinged with expectant anticipation, a desire to complete the course. It was somewhat like being stood on the edge of a cliff with a rope hanging down, and being told to abseil down the cliff face. There was the fear of injury, yet knowing that you were, perfectly safe. I never doubted for a moment that she would injure me, I knew she would not. Yet why make it that I was being held? Why all the secrecy, the hidden person being brought illegally, into a country. I had my passport; I had used it to get on the plane, so I could just walk through customs, apart from being naked as the day I was born.

I felt the thrill of the caper, and the fear of being caught, my emotions were so mixed up, fear, excitement, anticipation, all seemed to emerge at the same time.

We went along for a short distance, and then down again, and along, then I felt being lowered down, not carried, mechanical, and to help there was the hiss of air escaping.

I was lifted, and being carried, then lifted higher, and I felt the bump of being put down.

"Sandra, lovely to see you, I believe you are going on sabbatical, for six months lovely, have a great time. What is this?" a male voice asked.

"Paul, you old goat, how is the wife? Is she feeling better after the operation?" My Mistress asked.

"Much, much better thank you," He replied.

"This oh, it is the old couch, from the plane. You know I bought a holiday home, and I need furniture to get settled. I can't see the point in buying new, until I have it as I want it, but I want to sit comfortably while I decorate it. The company had decided to get a new one for us, so I offered to buy it. They gave it to me, knowing the cost of getting it out, a removal firm isn't cheap, these days," She explained.

"Tell me about it, my son just moved, three thousand pounds, and he only went ten miles, but it was a big house he moved into, and they just looked at the house, and knew he was on good money, and charged, robbing swine's. He can afford it, but they took advantage, I am sure," he complained.

"I am sure they did. This is costing me a thousand, for one couch, but I am going four hundred miles with it, so I don't suppose I can complain, and then another six hundred to have it recovered," my Mistress told him.

"Wouldn't it have been cheaper to buy, a new one?" he asked.

"Yes, and no, look," she said, and I felt the couch tilt up, "Wood, solid wood, with wrought iron springs; they don't make them like that these days. Quality craftsmanship, I did price one, and to get something similar it would cost wait for it, four thousand pounds, so for a thousand it is cheap, add in refurbishment, and I got a four thousand couch for two thousand half price.

You don't know the story, the original owner, the Lord, who set up the company, took this from his mansion, and put it in the lounge at the airport he owned. It was then put on board a plane by his son, and has remained on a plane, owned by the company, ever since. Until this new crowd who bought the company out, and it does not fit the image, so it had to go.

Paul, it is a Chippendale couch, a late one, from about seventeen seventy five to eighty, and worth, thousands, tens of thousands, and they wanted to throw it away. Currently, it is of great value, to me, I mean I have used it, a lot," she said with meaning.

"So I have heard, I wasn't sure if the reports were accurate or not, but that is a lot of sentiment for a fucking couch," he said, and laughed.

"There are a lot of happy memories got on that couch, Paul. Well I must go, if we are to arrive before tomorrow. I wanted to get everything in place before I go to bed tonight. See you in six months," I heard my Mistress say.

I heard the wagon start, and then felt the movement as we left the airport hangar. So that was how she was going to get me out surreptitiously. She knew Paul would be on duty, and he would not check the couch too closely, knowing her.

I had been put inside the wagon, it was not an open one, nor a sheet sided one, the back was solid there was no wind or draft as we trundled along.

Hour after hour we drove, at times we were in towns, and then on a motorway speeding along. Why she didn't just use the motorway; I had no idea, travelling so far. The network was comprehensive, especially for such a long journey, but they hadn't, and I had no idea where we were, in the UK obviously, that was where we had landed, so I knew that much but North, East, West, I had no idea, the south was not hundreds of miles away, Scotland was, and Wales was, even the North, Cumbria say. All I could do was lie there comfortably, I admit, but lost, not knowing where I was, or where I was going, except into her house, to clean it, for her.

Eventually we turned off a smooth road onto a dirt track from the sounds, and the bumps, twists, and turns, and we were going higher and higher, a sharp turn, and then along before we stopped. They got out while I waited, desperate now for a pee.

"You will be pleased to note that we have arrived, remote is not the word for it, desolate; would be more appropriate, perhaps?

Paul is such a sweet guy, poorly informed, and he believes everything you tell him. The couch is second hand, the girls and I managed to get it on board, erm, on the QT. It is only fit for the tip, but as I told him, with you on it, it is very valuable, to me. We will burn it once you have been removed, and tens of thousands? Well slave, you will save me ten pounds an hour for a cleaner, which over six months comes to ten thousand four hundred pounds, plus keep, which you will cost me, like a place to sleep, food and clothes. But you will not expect to have a room of your own, will you? What about the clothes? Well for you a sexy, cheap, maid's outfit, which I will enjoy seeing you in, rather than a formal maid's uniform. By the time you add up all the costs, wages, keep, clothes, advertising for a cleaner, transport. You will save me tens of thousands over just six months. So I lied about it being Chippendale, but everything else was true, you are of value to me, and excellent value, as well.