Note: The website went through a recent server change. I apologize about the disabled comments and ratings. I can still read the comments. I just cannot find a way to make them public.
Curiosity killed the cat
Emma quickly thumbed through the folders in the filing cabinet, hoping to find something incriminating. This was her third foray into Miss Tiffany’s office. She hoped this time she would be able to find the evidence she needed.
Her two previous searches had proved fruitless. The last one damn near got her caught. It was rumored that Miss Tiffany did not treat people too kindly once they got on her bad side.
The Agency believed Miss Tiffany Stout was a part of something sinister at the Blackmere Foundation. Three employees had vanished under mysterious circumstances. One member of the Agency who’d been sent out to investigate had also disappeared. That’s when they’d sent Emma into Stout’s estate under the guise of a maid in the hopes of finding something.
Emma had been there three days, and already she wanted out. Miss Tiffany, as she was forced to refer to her “employer”, was a six foot blond with shapely legs and a body to match. But underneath that attractive exterior was the coldness of a scorpion.
She delighted in dominating the Asian agent by giving Emma all sorts of assignments. Very few were associated with being a maid. And some had proved to be downright humiliating.
Earlier that morning Emma had been forced to give the bitch a full body-rub. What’s more, she’d been forced to strip down into her black, lacy underwear and sheer black nylons. When she’d finished, she was relieved at being allowed to slip back into her maid uniform. Stout was not beyond making her carry out her duties in the nude.
Miss Tiffany announced she had to run an errand and that she’d be gone for an hour. Emma decided that would be her best chance of scouring the woman’s large office one last time. This time she hoped she would finish her search.
Last time she couldn’t finish looking around in the time she’d allotted herself. The damned office was just too massive. The Mistress of the house was becoming so domineering that she was really starting to feel uncomfortable.
She was only a third level agent. They used her mostly in light intelligence duties. This was developing into something far above her pay grade. It was time to finish the search and then get the hell out of there.
Emma finished up a file cabinet. She was about to begin a thorough search for any wall safes when she heard the click of a revolver being cocked. Her blood ran cold as she froze in place.
She heard a familiar voice ask, “Aren’t you supposed to be polishing all the silverware in the formal dining room, little girl?”
Emma winced. She hated the phrase “little girl”. It made her feel small and intimidated each time the bitch called her that.
Emma turned around, only to see Miss Tiffany pointing a .38 caliber revolver at her. “I can explain,” she said anxiously, her hands coming up in surrender. That’s when her mind began working feverishly to come up with something to get her out of the jam she was in.
“No you can’t, my pretty,” Stout said grimly. “You can’t explain this at all. This way please.”
She waved the gun, signaling for her captive to move out of the office. “Do you have to keep pointing that thing at me?” Emma stammered nervously. “I’m in enough trouble as it is, ok?” Her only hope now was to try talking her way out of this.
“Please don’t report me! I don’t want them to fire me at the Temp Agency over this. It was a mistake; I was just curious is all. I’ll never come in here again; I promise!”
“Didn’t you know that ‘curiosity killed the cat’, little girl?”
“Please,” Emma tried again. “Please let me call the Temp Agency, ok? Can’t I just sort of, uh… explain things to them? I don’t want them to fire me over this.”
In reality she wanted to call for a different reason. She wanted to give someone the “I’m in trouble” code words. With any luck they would send the cavalry charging in.
What her employer said next sent a chill running down her spine. “You don’t work for any Temp Agency, my pretty. So they’re not going to fire you. However I’m afraid I’m going to have to terminate you.”
Emma started to turn back toward her employer in protest. That’s when she felt something solid hit the back of her head. The last words she heard as she crumpled to the ground were… “Such a shame; you were such a pretty young thing.”
Then everything went dark…
Emma woke with a throbbing headache. But she quickly realized that was the least of her worries. She found herself sitting in a chair in a hallway.
She was in her bare feet, nylons and maid outfit. Her wrists were bound behind her back with some sort of rope. Emma found herself becoming aroused at her dire predicament.
What really disturbed her was the feeling of something wrapped around her neck. It was something she couldn’t quite identify. Whatever it was certainly did not belong there with the rest of her outfit.
Miss Tiffany appeared from around the corner before she could more thoroughly examine the reason for the discomfort around her throat. “I see you’re awake, little girl,” she sneered. Then her expression chanced to one of displeasure.
“I’m so disappointed in you, my pretty. I was looking forward to a long, pleasurable business relationship between the two of us.”
“You’d better let me go,” Emma warned, trying to put on a brave front. “People know I’m here.”
“A piece of information easily remedied,” Stout answered with an ominous smile. “All I need to do is call the Temp Agency and complain as to why my maid did not return from her lunch break. That should redirect their investigation.”
Emma wanted to respond with a smart remark. But she thought better of it. The least she could expect from mouthing off would be a slap in the face. She didn’t want to think about the worst that could happen.
She struggled a little. Then she indignantly sputtered, “You can’t tie me up like this!” Her heart rate increased as she began to perspire.
“Oh, but I can,” Miss Tiffany replied. “You’re my maid now. I own you! I can do anything I want to you.”
“You don’t own me – MMMPH!”
Emma was silenced by Stout’s forceful kiss as the woman gripped her cheeks with her hand. “BITCH!” she managed to spit out when the woman was done. “That was uncalled for, you pervert! Untie me this instant!”
“Afraid not,” Tiffany smiled pleasantly, her eyes glinting with malice. “You see there’s still the little matter of your termination to be dealt with.”
“You hurt me and they’ll come after you!” But deep down Emma felt a wave of panic threaten to overwhelm her. She had to stay calm and not panic.
In response Miss Tiffany waved dismissively at her. “I see I’m going to have to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, little girl.” Then that evil smile returned again.
“Don’t go away, little girl; I’ll be right back.”
She turned and walked around the corner. Emma wanted to holler a response at her. But she chose not to, figuring it would do her no good. Besides, it would only serve to worsen the predicament she was in.
Emma anxiously looked around at her surroundings. Her first thought was one of escape. Her hands were bound behind her back, but she didn’t seem to be tied down to the chair.
Emma rose to her feet, thinking she might be able to get away and hide long enough to free herself. But she was instantly reminded of the thing around her neck. It tightened the minute she attempted to step away from the chair.
What the hell?
Emma turned to look and gasped in alarm. There was a white nylon rope leading upward from her neck to the railing of the second floor. In an instant it became all too clear what was wrapped around her throat.
She squawked in fright as reality set in. Was the bitch going to hang her up against the side of the staircase? She wouldn’t, would she??
Instantly the petite Asian began struggling against the rope attached to her neck. Her fingers fluttered as she fought against the coils that bound her wrists. A moment later she felt a strong hand grab her, spinning her around…
Miss Tiffany was back.
“I’m glad to see you’re on your feet, little girl,” the woman said dangerously, some sort of red material in her hand. “That’ll make it so much easier for you to climb onto the chair.”
“I WON’T!” Emma yelped in horror.
She was grabbed by the face and kissed hard with an “MMMMMMPH!” When she was finally pulled away there was a string of drool connecting their lips. “BITCH!” she sputtered angrily.
“Such a feisty little girl,” Stout remarked with satisfaction. “I like my girls with spunk.”
“I’ll ‘spunk’ YOU -MMMMPH!”
Emma’s retort was muffled as Miss Tiffany shoved a red scarf against her mouth. It all but silenced her protests. It was wrapped around her head before being tied off.
“Mmmmph! MMMPH-MMPH MMMMMPH!”
“There… that’s much better, don’t you think?”
Stout cooed seductively, caressing Emma’s face with her hand. “Now let’s get you up onto that chair, shall we? I always did want to adore this part of the facility with a feisty ornament dangling in midair.”
Emma cried out into the scarf around her mouth. She vehemently shook her head back and forth, clearly implying she would do no such thing. “Need a little encouragement, do we?” Tiffany said with a sympathetic smile. “I think I can help you with that.”
She moved around Emma and started up the stairwell. “Upsy-daisy!” she said with a chuckle as she grabbed on the rope and pulled upward. Emma’s eyes went wide as she glurked and gurgled.
The rope pulled ominously against her throat. Instinctively she tried to raise herself up in an effort to create some slack. But it wasn’t enough. The only way she could ease the strain was to climb onto the damned chair!
“C’mon, little girl,” Miss Tiffany encouraged. “You can do it!”
Stout continued to tug suggestively on the rope. With a grunt Emma put one foot up onto the chair. She was half-dragged upward as she stepped up onto it.
She got her other foot into position. Then she looked in alarm at her captor. Miss Tiffany smiled as she looked down at her.
“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it? That’s a good little girl.”
“MMMPH! MMPH-MMPH MMMMMMMPH!”
Emma’s heart was in her throat as she trembled like mad. She was embarrassed because her panties had become soaked from her fearful excitement. Then she watched in horror as Miss Tiffany climbed the rest of the way up the stairs, keeping enough of a grip on the rope so she wouldn’t be tempted to jump down off the chair.
She saw her Mistress remove most of the slack out of the rope. Then it was tied off. Emma shook her head in growing terror as her heart hammered in her chest.
Miss Tiffany chuckled as she came back down the stairs. “All comfy now?” she asked as she reached the main floor. Then she ran a hand up and down the trembling young woman’s nyloned leg.
“My-my; don’t we look sexy standing there in our pretty little maid’s uniform. We’re just waiting to be executed like the naughty little girl we are, eh?”
“Those pretty little feet might get bruised if they kick against my wall.” That’s when Miss Tiffany reached out and caressed each foot. Emma moaned in helpless terror.
“I think I ought to tie them together just to be on the safe side. Don’t you?” Then she winked at the poor girl.
“Don’t go away; I’ll be right back.” Then Stout rounded the corner and was gone again.
Emma whimpered into the scarf around her mouth. She was trembling like mad, her legs feeling like rubber. Anytime they started to bend she could feel the noose tighten ominously around her endangered throat.
She screamed into the scarf in terror, begging someone to come to her aid. She yelled and hollered as she teetered on the chair. But her cries were muffled.
It didn’t matter. She had yet to see another soul. There seemed to be no one else around.
Her panties were thoroughly drenched, soaked from a fearful arousal. She was afraid she might experience a humiliating orgasm any minute now. What would Miss Tiffany say to her?
Would she be excited to learn Emma was having such a sexual reaction to her situation? Would she suffer further humiliation? Then she heard the familiar sound of footsteps.
Her captor returned with a length of rope in her hand. “Let’s get this around your ankles, shall we?” Then Miss Tiffany began binding Emma’s ankles together.
The endangered agent cried out into the scarf around her mouth as she violently shook her head. It was terrifying being completely bound and helpless with a noose around her neck. What’s more, she could feel the evidence of her horrific arousal start to slither down the inside of her hosed thighs.
“What’s this?” Stout asked curiously, running a finger up her hosed thigh and tracing along a sliver of moisture. “Could it be…?
She ran the finger up higher, moving her hand underneath Emma’s skirt. The petite Asian winced as she trembled like mad. She let out more muffled grunts as her mind screamed at the woman to stop touching her.
“Oh my! Is my little girl excited about her hanging?” Emma winced again as she shook her head, whimpering fearfully.
Stout began seductively rubbing back and forth over Emma’s soaked panties. The bound young woman cried out into the scarf covering her mouth. Then she closed her eyes and shuddered.
The bitch had discovered her shameful arousal. Her humiliation was complete. Emma’s legs went all rubbery.
Instinctively she brought her thighs together. She moaned as tears trickled down her cheeks. She felt her body break out in a cold sweat. She could feel the onset of a shameful orgasm mere moments away…
“Is my little girl going to cum for me before she hangs? How wonderful!” That’s when Miss Tiffany rubbed harder.
Emma shuddered like mad, crying out into the scarf covering her mouth. An embarrassing wave of sexual release washed warmly through her body. Tears streamed down her cheeks in humiliation as she shook her head.
She looked up and saw the bitch suck her fingers, tasting of her sticky wetness. It shamed her even more. Emma lowered her head and choked back a sob.
“Delicious,” Stout purred, licking and slurping her fingers. “It’s really too bad we won’t have any more time to play together.” Then her eyes narrowed coldly as her expression hardened.
“It’s time to terminate your employment with me, little girl!” Then she coldly brought her high-heeled foot up and placed it against the edge of the chair. “If you think you were excited before, just wait until you experience what’s going to happen next. It’s something you’re positively going to die for!”
Emma’s heart leaped into her throat. She cried out into the scarf covering her mouth. At the same time she looked down in terror at the foot that was about to kick the chair away, sending her into eternity.
She let out a long, muffled scream as horrific anticipation built up toward a terrible climax. Then the foot brutally shoved forward. The chair was launched out from underneath her, skidding sideways.
Emma’s cry was cut off with a muffled “UNGH!” as she fell. The rope instantly tightened around her neck, all but blocking her airway. An instant later it went off inside her.
Her body was battered by an even more powerful orgasm. It was one that was almost painful in its violence. The petite Asian brought her legs together as she instinctively rubbed her thighs against each other.
She began dolphin-kicking, her heels thumping against the wall behind her as she desperately tried to free herself. The scarf muffled her grunts and gurgles as she fought to get a decent breath. She twisted and turned against the wall, her legs kicking frantically.
Her lungs heaved in agony as she tried to catch her breath. But there wasn’t nearly enough air being pulled in through her rapidly closing windpipe to grant her any measurable relief. It hurt far worse than she could have possibly imagined.
For a conscious moment she tried pushing herself up the wall with her feet. But it was not nearly enough to ease the constriction around her throat. She jerked and twisted in an attempt to shake the coil off from around her neck.
Her hands clenched and unclenched behind her back. Her feet stretched downward as she probed with her toes for solid footing. Then her feet began to cock and curl.
Her heart hammered in her chest. It pumped faster and faster, speeding up in a frantic attempt to continue circulating blood through her body. Then she felt everything start to slow down as her vision began to blur and diminish.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Miss Tiffany. The woman seemed to be in some sort of ecstatic trance. She looked to be mesmerized witnessing her hanging.
Emma felt humiliation and shame swell within her. Then she felt everything spiraling away. It was as though her body was draining of its life-energy.
She tried to move her lips to scream. But she made no sound as her throat closed off. Her hands flexed and twitched as her toes curled, her body jerking painfully.
Her vision failed completely along with her remaining strength. Emma hung limp against the wall. A death rattle emanated from her chest.
For a brief moment there was clarity of thought as she started fading away. Emma found herself wondering who the Agency would send in her place. She wondered if it would be another female and what Miss Tiffany might do to her if she caught her red-handed. Then consciousness spun away into oblivion.
Her body was reduced to sporadic muscular twitches from a series of randomly activated nerve impulses. There was something resembling a physical sigh as she settled into death. Third-level agent Emma finally became still, dangling limp and lifeless.
Miss Tiffany watched it all with morbid fascination, astonished at how aroused it made her. She stared for the longest time at Emma’s body as it hung against the wall to the stairwell. She was somewhat saddened she would not get to play with the young woman ever again.
Curiosity got the better of her as a distinctly feminine aroma filled the air. She stepped forward and reached under the woman’s skirt again, feeling around. She found the soaked panties.
“Damn, girl!” she murmured in admiration. “You must have really enjoyed yourself.” Then she smiled wickedly.
“Your performance was quite entertaining. I think I need a shower.”
Stout turned to go before giving it a second thought. Then she turned back to address the dangling maid. “Your services are no longer required.”
She reached out and ran a hand up and down the dead woman’s body. “Didn’t I tell you ‘curiosity killed the cat’, little girl?” Then she smiled as she walked around the corner. Maybe she would leave her new wall ornament up for a couple of hours before she got rid of it… strictly for her amusement, of course…
2008; 2019 (written Nov 18 ’08; ed. Aug 4 ’19 by riwa)
(Inspired by the picture I found on the Internet.)