Miranda and Geraldine Ch. 01

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A wealthy woman becomes a girl’s pet

*

“Hi, how are you today, sir?” Miranda asked politely.

“I’m fine, and you? Good! Well I’m off for a game of golf, won’t be back until late, there’s a committee meeting. Thanks for keeping my wife company. You’re a star, young lady,” Matthew said.

Geraldine walked into the kitchen still wearing a dressing gown, took one look at Miranda and quickly looked away. “What’s she doing here?” his wife asked.

Recognizing his wife was going to be awkward, even rude, he looked at Miranda and smiled pleasantly. “Do you mind waiting in the lounge? Thanks,” he smiled gratefully.

“You’re not well so I thought some company would help. Why don’t you get back to bed and let the girl look after you,” he said.

“I don’t need a nursemaid, especially a young eighteen-year-old making more mess than you would,” she complained.

“Hey, give the kid a chance, she probably needs the money. Her mother suggested it but it was sweet of her to agree to stay,” he said.

Trying a different tack she said. “Do you have to play golf today, darling,” she asked, while massaging her forehead for effect. Trying for sympathy wasn’t working either. She was being outmaneuvered and bitterly knew it.

He wasn’t going to miss an important game and she dare not tell him why he should. How that brat of a girl wormed her way into being here didn’t matter, she wasn’t wanted and would have to go. Miranda caught her in an indelicate position last weekend and of course she angrily dismissed the girl off home. She never expected to ever to see the brat again.

“We’re miles from town and you’re not well. If you get worse she can look after you or call me. I think my wife needs babysitting while I’m gone,” Matthew laughed playfully, giving her a pat on the head.

She grimaced with an exaggerated smile back at him. “OK! Go enjoy your golf, I’ll be fine,” she smiled wanly.

***

Geraldine strode into the lounge. “I don’t know how you wangled your way in here but you are not staying. I’ll call a taxi and you’re out of here,” she said, through gritted teeth.

Miranda said nothing, just slowly and meaningfully turned her head toward the television. Geraldine followed the girl’s mean looking eyes. A gasp of shock stopped her moving toward the phone. She clamped a hand over her mouth on seeing a filthy movie. It was her, Geraldine, splayed out on her own bed.

“I’ll play it from the beginning, shall I?” Miranda asked, politely.

Geraldine stood transfixed in the middle of the lounge. On the large television screen she was spread out on the bed vigorously using a dildo. She knew the girl had caught her last weekend, after finishing playing with herself, but how was that naughty act here on television?

Slowly it dawned on her. The girl hadn’t just walked in the bedroom at the end, she had been filming everything. The bitch must have planted a camera in her bedroom.

“What the hell do you think you are doing? You can’t do this. It’s private,” she said with bitter anger sharpening her voice.

“Better watch from the beginning so you know what you’re complaining about,” Miranda warned her.

The real action was from last weekend when Miranda caught her masturbating. Miranda had come back during the week when no one was home to see the gardener. She started filming the guy, teasing him, getting him to say things from her prepared script. He had been willing enough to play along, not knowing what she was up to.

***

The scene changed to a shot through the French doors. A young muscular guy, the gardener, stripped off a tight white t-shirt, wiped his sweaty chest then dropped it on the patio. He looked up and waved.

Next was a shot of Geraldine in the same dressing gown looking out of the door, supposedly at the young guy stripping.

“That didn’t happen!” she said, to the film rather than the teenager.

He walked toward the open French doors to stand posing, seeming to fill the frame with glistening muscles. The angle swung round to find Geraldine shucking off the dressing gown.

“No! He wasn’t there!” she said quietly in disbelief. It was impossible to look away from the screen and as much as she needed to shout at it she just stood silently, taking it all in. This was all wrong! She wouldn’t let that young man into her bedroom.

As though confirming Geraldine’s thoughts, her voice spoke out in the film. “Don’t come in yet, just wait,” she said. He nodded as though she had spoken to him from off camera.

Miranda smiled at how well the two separate episodes had been put together. Geraldine had said this when she knocked on the bedroom door last week. It was also very pleasing to see how enthralled the woman was with her little film.

On the large screen, Geraldine lifted her head as though looking toward the French doors and the young man. Dressed in just a thin nightgown she lifted a leg revealing it to the thigh and began rubbing oil into the bare flesh. While she worked on her legs the camera panned to illegal bahis the young guy smiling at her.

“Very nice,” he commented, with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

The nightdress was casually hiked up over her head and dropped on the floor. Again the shot of the guy, only this time he wasn’t smiling but looking intense. Miranda had to show her boobs to get him going for this shot.

The woman continued massaging oil over the rest of her body, missing nothing. It was a pity – oiling her breasts looked perfunctory rather than sexy, though any guy watching this attractive naked woman wouldn’t analyze it that closely.

“Nice tits,” he said, off screen. Again he was commenting on Miranda’s naughty tease while the woman of the house was out.

Parting her legs a hand smoothed between the thighs leaving the whole body gleaming. She turned and bent over a dressing table showing a voluptuous bottom with shining lips protruding between thin thighs.

She stepped back to plonk her bottom down on the edge of the bed. In her hand was a black dildo. She hesitated then rubbed it between her thighs.

The part where she hesitated and moved to put it back was cut. The woman had changed her mind and continued playing with herself.

On screen she was laying back on the bed with legs parted, rubbing it over her lips. Around them, over them, she worked it hard while saying something between gritted teeth.

“Watch me do it, just watch me, please,” she moaned. The sound of her voice very different now she had become so excited.

At least that’s how it appeared. Geraldine had been just moaning, so Miranda added dialogue to fit the scene. It had taken a lot of practice but she thought it sounded pretty good.

The gardener could be heard off screen encouraging the woman. “Do it, go on don’t just tease,” he said. That’s when Miranda had taken a boob out for him.

The dildo had been rubbing a visibly erect bud then it was slipped in a little, obviously held back from plunging in. “Tell me to do it, please, make me do it, I need it so badly,” Miranda had dubbed into the film in a put-on husky voice. It really did look as though the woman was pleading with the gardener.

Off screen the guy encouraged. “Go on, all the way,” he said.

On cue the dildo was buried deep. Her hips came up off the bed responding as though the gardener had given permission to fuck herself with the dildo.

Miranda was impressed with how carried away the woman had become. Her eyes were closed, probably imagining a favorite fantasy, while really going for it. The sounds of the woman gasping were fitted around Miranda’s put-on husky voice.

“Please, sir, let me cum, I need to cum, please, make me cum,” the woman on the bed pleaded.

The scene was electrifying as the woman worked the dildo deep inside, thrusting heavily. She raised her hips off the bed in time with every gasp of desperately needed air.

“Go for it, slut,” the guy said. He was watching Miranda lifting her t-shirt, not the woman who was out shopping that day.

“Thank you, sir, your slut is coming!” she shrieked.

The woman on the bed collapsed with her own voice whimpering moaning sounds. A very impressive orgasm had been enjoyed.

“No don’t come in,” the woman said. She tried to pull a sheet from under her body to cover it.

That’s when Miranda walked in on her, though in the film it looked as though the gardener was coming in to take her. The film ended with a splash across the bed naming Geraldine as the star then credits rolled, stolen from a real porn movie.

Miranda was very pleased with the voice-over and the film’s effect on Geraldine. She wanted to clap she was so pleased with her handiwork.

Geraldine had collapsed to the floor. She looked down at the carpet seeing past the pattern, seeing just those dirty images.

“A great production, impressive, do you want to know how I did it?” Miranda asked her.

“Get out! Don’t ever come back,” she spat at the girl in anger.

“You sure about that? I thought you would be impressed with my media studies project. It may not be art but I’m sure it will make lots of money, especially around town,” she said, with a cruel grin on her face.

Miranda stood up and smoothed down her skirt.

“Sit down! You’re not going anywhere you, you, little shit,” Geraldine said while struggling to stand on weak legs. She instead flopped back down onto the carpet.

“Don’t worry I’ve left you a copy. It’s on a CD in the machine under the television,” Miranda pointed out.

“How did you . . . I don’t want to know,” Geraldine said, while shaking her head. It was difficult to think straight though she was trying hard to make sense of it. “Why did you?” she began then faltered.

“Just a bit of fun, at first,” Miranda said. She watched the woman’s grimace as she struggled to accept it, then interrupted the garbled complaint.

“We can come to an understanding or I can make some money on the internet selling the CD’s. At illegal bahis siteleri college I can make hundreds of copies,” she smirked.

“You can’t. You wouldn’t! No, please, don’t do that,” Geraldine said, looking more thoughtful than shocked now.

“An arrangement, then,” Miranda suggested.

“What? What kind of arrangement?” she asked.

The dullness in the eyes showed she still hadn’t recovered yet. This was the time to hit her. “I’ll come round to look after you, whenever your husband’s away. Kind of babysitting,” she smirked.

“You want paying then. I’ll pay you but you don’t need to come here, I don’t want you anywhere near me,” Geraldine said in a flat tone of voice.

“Can’t do that, need to be seen to be paid for something,” Miranda stated firmly. The woman was going to object so she cut her off. “Don’t want it to look like blackmail. That’s the arrangement, take it or leave it,” she said.

“Surely you won’t want to hang around here!” Geraldine complained, meaning she didn’t want this poor person hanging around her luxury home.

“You agree then?” Miranda pressed her.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked.

Miranda pointed a remote control at the television. “Do you want to watch the film again? It’s a masterpiece,” she smiled.

“No!” Geraldine said, through gritted teeth. “There will have to be rules,” she added.

“I’m glad you mentioned that. I have only one rule. While I’m babysitting, you do exactly as I tell you. Got it?” Miranda said fiercely.

“I’m thirty-two I’m not going to be told what to do in my own home by a young girl,” she began.

Miranda leaned down, grabbed a fist full of hair to pull her face up. “Listen to me. It’s either me making money out of the film and you losing your precious reputation or you abide by my rules. You need this arrangement, I don’t. I’m going to have a bit of fun while here. Do you understand?”

Geraldine tried to nod her head and it hurt so she muttered agreement.

“I didn’t hear you, louder,” Miranda said in her face.

“OK!” she shouted. “You little shit,” she murmured.

“I’ll forget I heard that, just this once. From now on you call me Miss. In fact all you have to say is, ‘yes, miss’. Got it? Whatever I say, you say?” Miranda prompted and shook Geraldine’s head.

“Yes, miss,” Geraldine answered. This dreadful girl would have to be tolerated until she could think what to do. It was true the little shit had her in a difficult and objectionable situation. How the hell did she make that film?

There must have been a camera in the bedroom right from the beginning, placed there while she showered. It was probably just meant to film her getting dressed and the damn girl got more than she bargained for. She forgot the girl was staying the night and started playing with her toy. The bloody gardener hadn’t been around, not on a weekend, so how did she do that?

“You can make me coffee and toast, lightly buttered,” Miranda demanded. She sat down with a big smile on her face watching the woman of the house shakily get up off the floor.

“You’ve forgotten something!” she said, when the woman turned to leave.

“What?” she asked, angry still.

“What do you say?” she asked.

“Yes, miss,” she said, not sounding very agreeable at all.

Returning with the late breakfast she roughly handed it to the girl. “Anything else, miss,” Geraldine asked, sounding sarcastic.

“Just stand there in case I need you,” Miranda ordered. “More sugar next time,” she added, just to annoy her.

“Did I mention a punishment? Your attitude is less than it should be, a bit rude in fact. Get down on the floor and remember what to say when I speak to you,” Miranda said.

“Yes, miss,” Geraldine mumbled.

“On hands and knees, that’s it, good girl,” Miranda said, emphasizing the woman’s lowly position. “Crawl over here.”

Geraldine looked up as though ready to complain and it showed plainly on her face she thought better of it. Playing along until she could get out of this damnable situation had to be the strategy, until the girl became bored with the game or she thought of a way out of this mess.

“Just there,” Miranda pointed. She leaned forward to grab the woman’s hair. While the woman struggled the dressing gown was whipped up at the back and she slapped her ass.

“Owww! You can stop that right now!” Geraldine complained.

A few more slaps quietened her down. She realized Miranda wasn’t letting go till she acquiesced so she would just have to endure it. It wasn’t the stinging pain it was the indignity of it that hurt.

This young girl was slapping her ass; it was outrageous. She was on the city council, a county committee member and was chairman of a small charity. Geraldine was a respected mature woman and this young girl, from the wrong side of the tracks, was slapping her ass as though she were an errant school girl.

“What do you say?” Miranda asked, then slapped her ass again when she didn’t respond.

“Sorry, miss,” canlı bahis siteleri she eventually said. The tone of voice was a little more conciliatory this time.

“You need to be reminded occasionally of your place, girl,” Miranda warned her.

“Yes, miss,” she responded quickly. It was humiliating speaking like this but at least the bitch had let her go. She would get out from under this distasteful situation and wreak a terrible revenge on her. She was unsure if she could crawl away yet so she just stayed still.

The so called nice woman was learning, Miranda thought. “Follow me. No, don’t get up, you’ve got to learn to crawl before you can walk,” she laughed.

Geraldine needed to bellow loudly like a wild animal in frustration, only just managing to keep her temper. She followed the young tormentor, having to crawl into her own bedroom. She just couldn’t look at the unmade bed after watching that despicable film.

“Have you showered this morning? Your hair’s a mess! I guess that’s not your fault, girl,” Miranda commented with a wry grin. “I’ll get you something appropriate to wear, for your new duties,” she said, looking at the woman meaningfully.

“Yes, miss,” she said. This time she dropped her head in embarrassment from realizing she had said it without thinking. What did this girl mean? It was true her life would be turned upside down if that damnable film were released but could she endure this appalling humiliation.

“Get undressed. Don’t go all shy, I’ve seen it all before,” Miranda told her.

It was true, she had, but that didn’t make it any easier. She reluctantly removed the house coat leaving her standing in a thin nightdress. A slap to her rear was a clear order to remove it. Geraldine gritted her teeth and lifted it up over her head to drop it on the floor.

She received another slap, this time to a bare ass. “Pick it up girl. Now put it in the laundry box, quickly!” Miranda scolded her.

“Yes, miss,” she said, scuttling to and from the bathroom. She tried to cover her naked body without being too obvious, not wanting another reprimand. The damn bitch was too handy with those stinging slaps.

Miranda worked her way through the many racks in a large wardrobe. “Shoes, I like shoes, it’s a pity we’re not the same size,” Miranda mused. “Not much here, it’s all very proper and boring,” she announced. She liked the way the woman was repeating, ‘yes miss’, every time she spoke to her. It sounded like a habit nicely forming.

“Let’s look for some underwear. I don’t know how you wear this stuff,” she said, looking at the woman to receive yet again the desired response. “What’s this here in at back?”

“Oh! This is more to my taste,” she said, while holding up a red corset. She waved it in the woman’s face watching her turn just as red from embarrassment.

“What’s this? Who’s Susie?” Miranda asked.

“A family pet, miss, gone last year, miss,” Geraldine stated plainly, with a more respectful tone of voice.

“OK!” she said, while swinging the collar and leash in one hand. “Don’t just stand there naked, get that underwear on,” Miranda rebuked her.

“Yes, miss,” Geraldine said and quickly picked up the corset. She had never worn it, and she had to struggle to pull it round her.

“Here, like this,” Miranda sighed in exasperation at the woman’s fumbling. She pulled at the cords, wrapping them around eyelets and fastening it tight as if the woman were a parcel. It pushed her breasts up into a deep cleavage with the breasts covered by fine lace. Picking up the dog collar she buckled it around the woman’s throat.

She stood back to admire the woman’s new image. “Better, much better,” she said, with a smirk.

Geraldine looked away from the tormentor and at the same time avoided a tall mirror on the wall. She dare not contemplate what she looked like. The leash fell down her back nestling between her cheeks. This was so humiliating she wanted to cry.

Not wishing to give the girl satisfaction she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. The corset was so tight it cut into her ribs, cutting short the intended breath.

Miranda picked up the leash drawing it slowly between the cheeks of her ass. She brought it down with a crack on her bare bottom. A stinging blow brought forth a surprised shout of pain from her victim. “Thank me for punishing you, girl. What do you say?”

“Thank you, miss,” she said, then tried again on seeing the leash raised. “Thank you for punishing me, miss,” she said, with a quiver in her bottom lip.

“Good girl, you’re learning fast,” Miranda said, sounding as condescending as she meant it to be. “Get on the bed, on all fours,” she commanded. Another crack of the makeshift whip had the woman scrambling onto the bed where she quickly moved onto hands and knees.

From the film Miranda knew where the instrument of torture, Geraldine’s black dildo, was. “Lick it, that’s a good girl. Suck on it, get it all nice and wet, good girl,” Miranda cooed at her, as though she were a simpleton or she was steadying a nervous pet.

Pulling it from between the woman’s lips she noticed how hard it was held, with her mouth creating a powerful suction. The woman knew what was coming next and didn’t want to let it go. Well, too bad, she was in for it now.

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