The German Sub

***

Mary was waiting for him.

She lay on the bed like a cat that knew that the cream was about to arrive. Her legs spread wide to make the lips of her sex pout through her pubic hair and the stockings and girdle that she had put on were a clear indication that she was looking forward to something more than mere housework from Georg.

When he arrived she sat up and cupped her breasts in her hands.

"I hope that I will find the kitchen spotless," she said with a grin. "Please undress for me."

He looked at her tempting form and started to undress.

"Not like that, " she said crossly. "Slowly. You are supposed to be tempting me, not getting ready for a fast fuck in a brothel in Berlin."

He took off his shoes and slowed to doing one button at a time. The skirt fell to the floor with a rustle of cloth and the blouse slipped off his arms with a single shrug of the shoulders. Finally he stood waiting, his cock stood like a pointer towards the object of his lust, the woman who commanded from his bed.

"That's better," she cooed. "Now you are ready for me!"

Her finger pointed at her thighs and she lay back with a sigh.

Georg crawled onto the bed and slid his head between her thighs just as the fingers of her right hand opened her wide for his attention.

"Lick me like you did last night, take me with those lips."

He settled in and tentatively probed her with his tongue. As he did so she moaned and allowed her fingers to strum across the bud of her clitoris. As he worked, her forefinger pressed to strip her clit of that small hood and she grabbed his hair with her other hand to direct him to the place where she wanted his attention.

"Slowly, it's got to be slow," she mumbled as his tongue lapped at the few square millimetres of exposed flesh that was the centre of her pleasure. "Use your hands, I want to feel your fingers in me."

He pushed a finger into her and then another as his lips sucked her exposed clitoris. This was not what he had expected at all. Georg was a man whose prick was the centre of all a woman's pleasure. Never had he been asked to make a woman climax without using it. Now it lay ignored under his thighs as she sucked him in and orgasmed with a series of small sighs that turned to cries.

Her thighs trembled and then lifted around his head to close him in a grip from which there was no escape without her assent. He was hers and she climaxed again as she forced him to take her to the third and final climax.

"More," she cried as he kissed and lapped at her.

His fingers probed and massaged the inside of her cunt as she clenched her thighs with extasy. She screamed with gratification as he sucked that bud between his lips and massaged it with his lapping tongue.

Finally it was over and Mary relaxed with a small sound of pleasure.

"Good, Georg, you have done well." she purred as her hand stroked through his hair.

He felt a little pride in her thanks and kind words and wondered if now he could fuck her. While she was still wet and ripe for his raging prick. But, his hopes were dashed by her next words.

"When you have finished the bedroom you get your little moment of pleasure," she said as she lifted his head to look into her eyes. "One good turn deserves another and a little wait will make you all the more ready for what I am going to do to you!"

Mary rolled off the bed and pulled on her skirt.

"That's not fair," said Georg as he felt his erection fade.

"Fair is what I decide," chuckled Mary as she pulled on her blouse. "You are in my house on my sufferance; make sure that you keep on my better side!"

Georg stood and watched her do the buttons on her blouse, hiding those perfect breasts with casual movements of her fingers.

"Last night," he said in the hope of stirring her to action.

"Last night was then, this is now!" she replied as she slipped on her shoes. "Now put on a fresh dress and finish the room. Afterwards there is the washing to do and then we shall see what we shall see."

Georg went to her bedroom to select a dress.

'A dress she said, not a skirt.' he thought as he looked at those available.

He remembered that there were several dresses, a floral one, a long one and maybe one or two others, but all he could find was a black dress with a fixed pinafore that looked so much like a maid's uniform. Once again he flicked through the hangers until his hand once again rested on the black and white dress.

"That one needs a petticoat," said Mary's voice from behind him. "put it on and then the stockings that are tucked in the wooden box at the bottom of the wardrobe.

Georg turned to find Mary with a look of pure lust on her face as her hand slipped inside her blouse and toyed with her breasts. It was clear that she was playing games with him for her own amusement.

"The girdle is in the box as well," she added as her other hand slipped under her skirt to find her pussy. "I will help you this time if you like, but after that you are on your own."

Georg felt a wave of resignation sweep over him as he laid the items on the bed.

"The girdle goes on first of all," she panted. "Do the middle buttons first before you slip it on and then you can do the others later."

He did as he was told and then reached for the thick cotton stockings.

"No," she said. "They go on after the petticoat."

He slid the crisp cotton over his body and let it hang over his erection.

"I can see that you're enjoying this, my little sailor boy," she said. "Now you can put on the stockings for me and finally the dress.

When he had finished she sighed as she came. A delicious subtle orgasm that came from the depths of her control rather than from the hands that slid through her soaking cunt.

"Turn around," she murmured as she got him to show him the effect from all angles.

"Now there are just two things missing," she said. "The shoes..."

He reached for the brogues that he had worn before.

"Not those, silly," she said in a strict tone. "That outfit needs heels, and your legs need a bit of shape."

Mary went to the wardrobe and selected a pair of Oxfords with belled heels of about three inches.

"These," she said as she watched him struggle into them.

"Now put one hand here and one hand here," she instructed as she moved his hands to the front and back of the hem of the dress. "Pull the hem up a little and bend your knees."

George curtsied and Mary squealed with delight.

"You are ready to finish this room now," she said as she handed him the duster. When you are finished come to the living room and I will show you what I can make that cock of yours do for me!"

*** A Glass Of Cream Sherry.

The house was an old one, formerly with a staff of maids and butlers that served a family that had farmed the whole district. On the third floor were the servant's quarters, filled with the uniforms and cots of a Victorian establishment. Mary had decided that she had a maid, just like the old days, and that maid would serve her in proper style.

All she needed were a few additional bits and pieces and an attitude that brooked no disobedience.

***

Georg knocked on the door.

'Why knock?' he wondered.

The answer was that it just felt like the correct thing to do!

"Come," came Mary's voice.

He entered the living room to find her with a small wine glass in her hand, sipping a sherry.

"Come to me now," she said.

It was more of an order than a request.

He stood before her and wondered what other chores he would have to do before she would allow him to fuck her.

Her left hand reached out and burrowed under his petticoats to find his prick. It gripped him and pushed to make him groan.

"See, that's better," she said in a soothing voice. "You have finished your chores for the afternoon and now comes a little time just for you."

He grunted as her hand slipped to his balls and took them in the palm of her hand.

As she sipped her sherry she massaged them and then took them in a firmer grip.

"You realise that you are now my little maid?" she cooed. "Just what a widow needs to keep body and soul together."

"I have begun to understand!"

"That's excellent, my dear."

The hand under his petticoat left his balls and traced the interface between stocking-top and thigh before it crept to the root of his raging prick.

"There will be so many chores for you to do for me, many of an intensely personal nature, and I am obliged to repay all that service," she continued.

She sipped at her sherry and looked up at her maid with a smile.

"Does that sound fair?" she asked.

"It does."

"It does, Madam," she corrected. "Always address me as 'Madam', I like the sound. There is something else that I like as well... Can you guess, or do I have to tell you!"

"Obedience?"

"Of course obedience! That goes without saying, but it is a good guess."

"Please tell me," he answered as he felt himself being slowly massaged.

"Please tell me, what?"

"Please tell me, Madam."

"That's much better," she said as she rewarded him with a few harder strokes.

Her hand came up and she offered him the glass.

"Fill it now," she ordered.

He looked at the hand that was slowly wanking him and then at the decanter on the other side of the room.

"My pleasure always comes first," she snorted. "You have to understand that basic fact quickly if you are to be the perfect maid. Now get me a sherry!"

He pulled from her hand and filled the small glass half full. As he passed it to her a small sly smile came onto her face. Once again the hand burrowed through the starched cotton to resume his reward session. The small cost of teaching him to respond in the way that she wanted.

"So, you haven't answered me," she said. "What is the second thing that I want from you?"

The hand pulling him to climax distracted his thoughts and made him dizzy with hope.

"I don't know. Madam!"

There had been a slight hesitation before the title, but she ignored it.

"A curtsey every time you greet me," she said as she finished the under filled glass.

There was a brief pause as this new information soaked in. Gradually she brought him closer and closer to a peak. She slowed a little to be able to interrupt at the moment when it would be most devastating. There it was, that slight clench of the balls, the small sign that he was just before his climax.

She stopped and held up the glass again.

"This time fill it full," she said.

"Yes, Madam," he said as he stumbled to the decanter and his climax receded into nothing.

'How can I have been so foolish as to think that she would want just half a glass,' he thought without realising that, full or empty, his climax would be delayed.

He handed back the glass and awaited her hand, but it did not return. Now his prick was demanding completion from him and she was ignoring his need.

At last she turned to look up at him.

"You filled it full, that was good, but where was the curtsey?"

He tried to be graceful, but the curtsey was as stiff as his cock. The shoes were so difficult to walk on and the short trip across the room to the decanter had rubbed the tip of him against the starched cotton to make his legs tremble even more.

"Better," she said. "But, you have to be punished for mistakes. How can we move forward if you never learn? You have to learn that a maid in this house, under my guidance, is a perfect maid. So what are we going to do now?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know... Madam."

"Show me how you can pleasure yourself," she chuckled. "Then you can be satisfied and I will not have transgressed against my principles."

"Now? Madam.

"Of course now! The sin of Onan is one that you will often be performing for me under my guidance. When you are flawless I will be the one to reward you, when you are less sufficient you will do it. If, of course you are insufficient, you will be punished like the trainee maid that you are!"

Georg took his prick in his right hand and lifted his skirt with the left. As he began to perform for her she lifted the sherry glass to catch the inevitable emission. The scene was so bizarre as Mary licked her lips and moved to catch the splashing come in the glass.

For a moment the panting Georg thought that she was going to drink the sherry with its creamy addition, but she proffered the glass and said: "Wash it and then start on the evening meal for us. You will prepare a Kerry Hotpot with the sausages that you will find in the larder. I have to prepare your bed and then we will relax with a little light reading before bed."

***

She ate her portion of the sausage stew that he had made with relish and complimented him on his cooking before he was allowed to eat. She ate so slowly that his bowl was cool by the time that he started, the congealed fat forming a white crust over the sodden mess of potatoes and vegetables.

Two years of eating the awful rations on U-Boats had inured him to eating dreadful food so it did not distress him to eat the stew. That she was building her ascendancy brick by brick into a wall that he would not be able to climb, that also disturbed him less than it should have done.

Just one day!

Georg had been just one day in the house and already she had him on more than a tight leash. Mary had become Madam and he had become her maid. The dress and petticoat did not upset him anymore and the tight grip of the girdle excited rather than discomforted him.

She watched him eat the Hotpot that had become a Coldpot and hummed to herself in satisfaction. Since she had conceived her basic idea just this morning, Georg had come so far. She was proceeding by feeling her way, but now she was starting to have ideas that excited her even more. Already he was more maid than German Unteroffizier, the next week would bring more changes that would make his life a mixture of chores and sex. Sex for her enjoyment, chores to keep him off balance and too busy to rebel.

At last he finished and she beckoned him to the living room.

Another gale was brewing in the dusk, it promised to be a stormy night!

She passed him a book and settle down comfortably while her read two chapters of Jane Ayre to her in his almost accent less tenor. As he read, she relaxed and allowed her thought to wander. The nights she would make for her pleasure and his service. The days she would fill to bursting with chores and punishments until at last he obeyed without demure.

As she considered all the things that he would do for her she felt a warm glow of satisfaction that made her pussy dew with anticipation. Four years were a long time to catch up on, in the end she would occasionally allow him to fuck, but those events would have to be the steps on his route to total service!

He lay in his bed.

Exhausted!

Georg could feel the chain that fixed him to the bed. Just enough play to use the chamber pot in the night and no more. He knew and understood that the chain was more a symbol of his captivity than anything else. It was Madam's means of making sure that she could visit at any time of the night and use him as she willed.

He would always be there for her and not temped to try to wander to her bedroom for something that she had not wished to do at that moment.

An hour ago she had arrived and slipped her hand under his nightie to find that he was ready. She brought him to near peak and then laughed as she watched him sigh when he realised that he was not going to come for her that night.

For an hour she played with her maid.

She made him service her with lips and tongue and then sat on his chest while she slowly brought herself to a second climax while he lay watching and lusting for that perfect body. Those breasts, those thighs and the dripping cunt that was only to be touched by her hands now that he had kissed her thighs and sex.

At last she relented and allowed him to come.

By his own hand and to the rhythm that she directed.

Mary slipped out of the room as he said: "Good night, Madam," and found her own bed to curl up in to sleep off the earthquakes that she had experienced in her loins.

*** Time Passes.

So the days passed.

Georg cleaned the house from top to bottom and then started again. He learned to wash all of the clothes in the stone basin in the kitchen with soap and soda in the water that he had to draw at dawn every day. He got used to the heels on the shoes, the clutch of the girdle and the pull of the cheap cotton stockings.

His cooking skills improved and he learned to heat his portion of the food so hot that it was still warm when she had finished and turned to enjoy watching him eat. He learned to feed the pigs and still manage to keep his petticoats free of the dirt. He chopped the wood and made the fire and then repaired the shutters on the windows one by one.

He climbed onto the roof and set the tiles, stopping as he did so to gaze at the distance and wonder how the war was going. By now the German army would be past Moscow, fighting in the snow as the demoralised Communists retreated into the east past the Urals. German troops would be in Palestine; a new crusader army that would sweep the enemy beyond the oil wells of Persia.

The Japanese would be threatening San Francisco with their fleets as the degenerate Americans were swept from the Pacific Ocean on a foaming wave front that would see Germans and Japanese meeting in Canada and India.

But, he had no news, no indication that the Wehrmacht was about to arrive in this part of Cornwall and liberate him!

All the while Mary wore down his inhibitions and built up his needs…

Changed him and moulded him.

The cane had been the latest innovation to add to her little game.

Georg was caned the first time when he broke a plate in the kitchen. Over her lap with his skirt lifted, she gave him three strokes that almost made him come as his cock was gripped by her thighs. Every change that she added brought sex to the forefront!

Sex for her and twisted sex for him.

It seemed almost as though she kept book with double-entry accuracy of his derelictions of duty and then balanced up at the end of each week. Three months after arriving in her demesne he stumbled across the record book that she had apparently forgotten to lock up.

In her clear, neat hand there was indeed a record and balance of punishment and reward that showed how very far he had fallen. Every stroke of the cane, every stroke of her hand, every orgasm that she had permitted, with the circumstances as well as the two fucks that she had given him for days with a perfect record. He nodded at her scrupulous book keeping as though her Teutonic pursuit of excellence was justified by applying a code of conduct that was precise and fairly applied.

But, she made the rules.

Mary decided what was punishable and what was worthy of reward!

Another three months came and went.

Georg begged her to be allowed to wear summer dresses and knickers instead of the maid's uniforms that filled his wardrobe. She relented but then told him that his figure was really not suitable and that if he wished to wear the dresses that she chose for him, then he would have to wear a boned corset in addition to the girdle.

A week later he gave in and she laced the corset tight.

That night she visited him and allowed him to lie on top for the first time. She held his corset and stroked his stockings as she directed him though a fuck that seemed to last forever. Every five minutes she interrupted his pleasure to allow him to bring her another climax with his tongue. Finally he withdrew and she watched him come over her breasts with a satisfied smile from her. She was thinking how he was moving to the next crucial stage that she had decided it would be her pleasure to squeeze from her maid.

Georg found that she now insisted on the corset all of the time.