Daniela jerked upright, pulling the hem of her skirt down self-consciously, and turned to face the bedroom doorway.

 

Reginald Love was a handsome man - fit, clean shaven but with a hint of stubble, well-groomed and immaculately dressed.  His short greying hair was styled in an attractive taper cut, and his lopsided smile radiated immense charm.

 

He was also a merciless amoral millionaire, a racist, and - based on the bruises that Daniela had sometimes seen on Mrs Love’s face - a wifebeater.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Daniela.  “I was just… tidying Gwen’s room.  I’m basically done.”

 

“That’s good,” said Mr Love.  He continued to flash her a wide, disarming grin as he stepped closer to her - and closed the bedroom door behind him.  “That means you have time to socialise.”

 

“I really shouldn’t,” said Daniela.  She circled around the room, in small steps - diverting Mr Love’s attention from the desk that she had just installed a hidden spy camera in, while at the same time looking for an opportunity to get past him and escape the bedroom.

 

“You don’t need to be coy with me, Burrito,” said Mr Love.  “Or are you telling me that I didn’t see your bare pussy winking at me just now?”

 

“You must be mistaken, sir,” said Daniela.  “I only have your office left to clean - or if you don’t need that cleaned, I can leave immediately.”   (She actually still had the upstairs bathroom to do too, but Mr Love wouldn’t know that, and Daniela was now desperate to get out of the Love household as quickly as possible.)

 

“Mistaken?” asked Mr Love.  “So you’re telling me that if I lift up that sexy little skirt of yours, I’m going to find a pair of panties, and not a cute little naked brown pussy?”

 

He took another step towards her, and Daniela flinched backwards.

 

“I…I had an accident,” she stuttered. “My panties got caught on something and ripped.  I’m sorry, sir.  I know it’s inappropriate, but…”

 

“No need to apologise, Burrito,” said Mr Love. He stepped forward again, grabbed her skirt, and lifted it.

 

Daniela went red with humiliation.  Her employer was staring at her naked, wet cunt.

 

“I thought so,” he said.  “Do you think you have a nice pussy, Burrito?”

 

“My name is Daniela, sir,” she whispered, shaking with apprehension.

 

“Oh, don’t take it as an insult, Burrito,” said Mr Love, still holding her skirt up.  “It’s a mark of affection.  You’re basically the family pet.  Having a little pet name shows that you’re special to us.  You should thank us for it.”

 

He looked at her, expectantly.

 

Daniela was silent.

 

“Thank me for calling you Burrito,” prompted Mr Love.

 

Daniela looked longingly at the door.  But she was backed into a corner.  If she made a break for it, Mr Love could force her back against the wall again, if he chose to.  Or he could just hold onto her skirt and let her tear it from her body, leaving her naked from the waist down.

 

“Thank you for calling me Burrito, sir,” she said, in a small voice.

 

“Good girl,” he said.  “And apologise for being a dirty slut and showing me your pussy.”

 

She whimpered.

 

“I’m sorry… for being a… dirty slut, sir,” she said, in a tiny voice.  “And for showing you my pussy.”

 

“Nonsense,” smiled Mr Love.  “I think you look good like this.  In fact, I don’t think you ever need to wear panties to work here again, do you?”

 

She knew what he wanted to hear.  She didn’t want to say it.  She turned her head away so that she wasn’t looking at him.

 

He grabbed her chin in his free hand and turned her face back towards him.

 

“Do you?” he repeated.

 

“No, sir,” she whispered.

 

“Good girl,” he said.  “If I catch you wearing panties, there will be consequences, Burrito.”  

 

“Sir,” objected Daniela, “your wife is just in the other room…”

 

“She won’t wake up for hours, as you well know, Burrito,” said Mr Love.  He grinned.  “And anyway, she understands that a man can’t help himself around a tasty Mexican treat like you.  It’s not really cheating - it’s not as though I’m fucking a *white* woman.  Besides, what’s she going to do - divorce me?  The bitch signed a pre-nup.”

 

He reached down and touched her pussy, ever so gently, running one thumb along the length of her slit.

 

“But you didn’t answer me, Burrito,” he said.  “I asked whether you think you have a nice pussy.”

 

She shuddered.  She seriously considered trying to knee him in the balls.  She wanted to, so badly.  And then she’d punch his stupid arrogant face.  And then….

 

Then he weighed more than her, he was taller than her, he was fit, and he would wrestle her to the ground, and slap her, and rape her, and he wouldn’t be gentle about it.

 

“Yes ,sir,” she said, instead.

 

“That’s right,” he said.  “You *do* have a nice pussy.”

 

He pushed his thumb between her pussy lips and found her clitoris.  He rubbed it gently, and Daniela shivered with confusing mixed feelings of violation and arousal.

 

“Do you want my cock in it, Burrito?” he asked.

 

“No, sir,” she answered honestly.

 

“Don’t lie to me, Burrito,” he said.  His thumb found the entrance to her fuckhole, and pushed inside, making her gasp.  “Tell me that you want my cock in you.”

 

“No!” she protested again.  She realised with shame that not only did she not want to be raped - obviously - but part of her mind was telling her that *Jake* wouldn’t want her to be raped, and that that was even *more* important.  Jake would be displeased if Mr Love raped her, and she couldn’t bear that idea.

 

Mr Love pushed this thumb inside her as far as it would go.

 

“If you lie to me again, I’m going to have to slap you, Burrito,” he said.  “That’s sometimes the only way to make a little Latina slut learn.  Do I have to slap you, Burrito?”

 

“No, sir,” said Daniela.  She was going to cry.  She could feel the tears forming.  She tried to blink them away.  She would *not* give this man the satisfaction of seeing her cry.  

 

“Then tell me you want my cock inside you,” he said.

 

It was going to happen.  She couldn’t stop it.  She couldn’t escape.  It could happen violently, or she could cooperate.  

 

“I want your cock inside me,” she whispered.  And she felt the first tear run down her humiliated face.

 

“That’s more like it, Burrito,” said Mr Love.  His grin was so wide it nearly split his face.  He reached down to his pants, and began to draw his fly down.

 

From downstairs, the front door banged.

 

“DADDY!” screamed Gwen’s voice.  “WHY is my credit card being declined?  Did you forget to pay it off AGAIN?”

 

“Fuck,” swore Mr Love under his breath.  He looked at Daniela longingly, his hand still on his groin.

 

“Daddy’s busy, baby!” he called down.  “Just doing some important business!  I’ll be with you in half an hour!”

 

Half an hour?  Daniela had secretly hoped he might be a five-minute man.

 

Mr Love started to open his fly again.

 

“But DADDY,” screamed Gwen.  “I need it NOW.  I’m coming up to my bedroom.”

 

“Fuck,” swore Mr Love again.  There would be no way to explain why he was in Gwen’s own bedroom, with the door closed, staring at the maid’s cunt.

 

“Next time,” he whispered to Daniela.  And then he stepped back, letting her skirt fall.  He opened Gwen’s bedroom door and hurried out into the corridor.  “I’m coming, sweetie.  Let’s sort this credit card thing out.”

 

Daniela took a deep breath - then pushed past him, out of the room, and hurried down the steps at full speed, almost knocking over Gwen as she passed her on the stairs.

 

“Bitch,” spat Gwen, as Daniela pushed past her.  “Walk much?”  The beautiful redhead turned back to her father.  “What crawled up Burrito’s ass, daddy?”

 

But Daniela was already out the door.  She hurried down the long Love mansion drive, almost running, and it wasn’t until she was out on the public road, and had walked three whole blocks away that she let her emotions catch up with her.  

 

She sat on the seat of a bus stop, and pulled her knees up to her chest, and hugged them, and as her body began to shake uncontrollably, she started to sob uncontrollably.

 

She was still crying when the bus arrived, and she couldn’t bring herself to get on and face the bus driver and the other passengers with her nose running and her makeup smeared and with no panties beneath her skirt, so she let it leave without her.

 

And when she finally managed to get herself under her control, she got out her phone, and looked at her saved numbers.

 

She couldn’t call her brother.  He would make a guess as to what had happened, and probably both tell her that she was a slut, *and* go nuclear at Mr Love in ways that would end with Angel in a jail cell.

 

And she couldn’t call Jake.  She couldn’t go running back to him for comfort and protection, no matter how much she wanted to - not after the point she had made of rejecting the leash he had placed on her.  She had pride, after all.

 

And so she called Amy.  Not because Amy was a particularly close friend (although she did still remember the taste of Amy’s lips) - but because part of her, deep down, knew that Amy would do what Daniela could not, and would not.

 

Amy would call Jake.

 

===

 

It was Jake’s mother Miriam who picked Daniela up from the bus stop, in her old blue sedan, with Jake riding in the passenger seat and Amy in the back.  Miriam blessedly didn’t ask any questions, immediately sensing the fragility of the situation, but she shared a knowing look with Jake.

 

Daniela could guess what that look meant.  It meant, “I’m trusting you, Jake, to let me know if this needs police or doctors involved.”  

 

She desperately hoped that Jake would involve neither.

 

Shortly afterwards they were back at Jake’s house, in Jake’s bedroom, and Daniela was sitting on Jake’s bed with Amy hugging her and Jake close on her other side.

 

She told them everything, down to Mr Love putting his thumb inside her, and she cried more as she did.  But she knew instinctively that they would not make her feel guilty for even a second.

 

“You know this means we can end him, right?” said Jake.  “We can go to the police.  He’ll go to jail, and Gwen’s life will be wrecked in the process.”

 

Daniela stared at him.

 

“I don’t suppose you’ve connected to the cameras yet and started recording from them?” she asked.

 

Jake opened his mouth, and then shut it.  “No,” he said.  “I was going to do that tonight…”

 

She slapped him on the back of the head, hard.

 

“Then stop talking crazy,” she spat.  “The word of an eighteen-year-old Latina housemaid against a white millionaire?  In what world does that work out well for me, Jake?”

 

Jake saw her point.  “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his head where she had slapped it.

 

She shook her head.  “No, I’m sorry,” she said.  “You were trying to help.  You’re just… a dumbass, that’s all.”

 

“It’s true,” agreed Amy.  “Sorry, Jake, you’re sweet, and you’re hot, but you’re a dumbass.”

 

Jake looked rueful.  “Maybe… maybe we should stop this,” he said.  “This plan to get Gwen.  It’s dangerous.  It almost got Madison raped, and now you…”

 

Daniela shook her head.  “This had nothing to do with our plan.  This was something that shitbag was always planning to do to me.”

 

“Well, at least you got away,” said Amy.  She rested her head on Daniela’s shoulder, and Daniela instinctively lifted her free hand to stroke Amy’s hair.  

 

“That’s right,” said Jake.  “And now you don’t ever have to go back.”

 

But as soon as he said it, he saw that Daniela had other thoughts.

 

“What?” he asked.  “Why would you go back, knowing that he’s going to… do that again?  Or worse?”

 

“Because now we *do* have cameras, Jake,” she said.  “You were right.  If we have *evidence*, we *can* destroy his life - and Gwen’s too.  And if I go back, he’s almost guaranteed to give us that evidence.  On camera.”

 

“But… you barely got away this time,” objected Jake.

 

“Next time I’ll be ready,” said Daniela.  “I’ll have an exit plan in advance.  I just need him to lay hands on me after I say ‘no’ - maybe lift up my skirt again - and we’ll have him.  Then I can hit him with something, and run, and we’ll have everything we need.”

 

Jake looked at her - and there was something in his eyes that made Daniela almost start crying again.

 

“Don’t,” she said.

 

“Don’t what?” said Jake.

 

“You know what,” she said.  

 

“I don’t!” objected Jake.

 

“You want to say something,” she said.  “I can tell.  And you’re not saying it because you know it’s going to affect me - because of the leash - and you’re trying not to take advantage of the leash.”

 

She pursed her lips.  “But it’s somehow *worse* that you’re not saying it.”

 

“Why?” asked Jake.

 

She looked at him.  He truly was a dumbass.

 

“Because every part of my body is tingling in anticipation of it, you dope,” she said.

 

“Oh,” he said.

 

And then a moment later:  “Daniela, you’re fucking amazing, and I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

 

And Daniela had to turn, and wrap her arms around Amy, and bite Amy’s shoulder gently, because it was the only way to keep herself from making a sound loud enough for Jake’s mother to hear, as her body shook with the powerful orgasm generated by knowing that Jake approved of her.

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)