Tiny Coercive

I am using ‘Coercive’ in the title as a noun which apparently makes no sense, but it works for me.

Story is set around 1875, with some literary license. A midget from an isolated village, where she’d suffered relentless teasing, is hired as a service. She is coerced into lesbian sex by a loving black maid and her cane wielding midget madam (good cop bad cop scenario). Eventually her nympho nature, combined with her desperate realization of never finding a husband, leads with some deception down a different path.

Part I

Olivia wiped a tear, as the wagon rolled by the last few ramshackle homes of her village. Her mind was churning with the sensings and memories of her life, especially the merciless teasing she had suffered over the years, about her status. She began to wonder how she would be treated in the big city.

The driver was an occasional visitor to her village, buying cottage-industry products for his business. He had spoken to her mother many timesover the past year and earlier today they had agreed for him to take her on as a household service in his home. The wages would be paid mostly to her widowed mother who was unable to support a nineteen year old midget with no marriage prospects, along with seven younger normal sized siblings.

After traveling a way, the horses pulling the heavily loaded wagon began labouring harder, as they approached a hilltop range crowned by pine trees. The trees on that ridge had been the visual outer limit of her entire life, crossed only in her day dreams. As the road curved into the forest, she caught a glimpse of the entire valley and her village, including the mill on the river where her father had been killed in a terrible accident three short years ago.

“Papa,” She cried bursting into tears.

“You saw the mill didn’t you?” She nodded wiping her tears, “Sorry about you Pa.”

The other side of the ridge turned out to be more of the same; except for a railway crossing wheree they stopped, while a belching black monster thundered by. Her employer dismounted holding the bridles to calm the horses until the noise reduced to the click-clack of the last cars and then subsided. She had listened to those distant whistles all her life but this was the first time she had actually seen one of those wonderers of modern innovation.

Later they stopped at a blacksmith shop in a village, to have a noisy wheel greased. While waiting, some children began to taunt her, with the usual hurtful remarks about her size. Her employer got extremely angry, slapping one, chasing them away. When he took the reins again, she quietly thanked him. He just grunted while cracking the whip, talking only to the horses during the rest of the trip. Despite his gruff exterior the incident cheered her up a little; being protected from ridicule was something only her family had done in the past. Maybe in his household she would be sheltered from abuse and treated like any other human being.

It was still daylight when they arrived at a large country house on the outskirts of the city. “Wait in the wagon until I find the stable boy,” he grumbled. She sat staring at the huge stone house until he returned and lifted her down. He then helped her up the five steps to the front door, she could have negotiated herself. After letting her in, he left closing the door behind him. She was in a large foyer with a sweeping staircase and several doorways.

“Ah, the new wench, I am the lady of the house, you will refer to me as madam.”

Olivia gasped in disbelief, staring at a midget about her own height, wearing absolutely nothing. The woman appeared to be in her late thirties, with pale white skin and nearly black hair swept up in a bun. Her breasts were full and the lower part of her some distended belly was dominated by an expandive hairy triangle. She had beautiful almond eyes but thick distinctive eyesbrows, a firm jaw and her overbearing manner, left her with a strict appearance. Olivia, frozen to the floor, stared absolutely petrified; hoping she was having a bad dream.

“What’s wrong wench, have you never seen another midget?” Olivia bashfully averted her eyes.

“I…I’m…sorry madam but you…you’re naked; yes…no I never. My…my name is,is,is Olivia.”

“Follow me wench!” She obeyed; following in a trance, trying not so watch the madam’s large cheats roll and quiver with each step. They walked a long hallway, through a large kitchen and then into a gloomy pantry; stocked with dry goods, cleaning implements, linesns, a small table and a wooden tub. “Undress yourself wench!” Her harsh commanding tone could not be refused, like a sergeant she’d once heard bellowing orders at his troops in the village. “Did you hear me wench? I said …get…it…off! All of it…now!”

Olivia’s mind churned in desperation between terrified obedience and moral refusal; but hopelessly trapped she had no place to turn. Bewildered and trembling with fear, she slowly removed her frock and then carefully folded it on a table the madam pointed to. “Petticoat, bloomers, off with them; now!” She cowered under the woman’s fierce star, as her fingers nervously fumbled with hooks and ties, slowly exposing her nakedness. Her face was by now flushed criminal, her cheeks bathed with tears; no one except her mother and sisters had ever seen her naked. The madam leered unashamedly, while nodding her approval. “Sandra,” she yelled, a naked full figured Negro female about twenty-five entered.

“Yes madam,” she curtsied deeply.

“Burn this pile of rags in the cook stove.” She pointed at the clothes, her eyes remaining fixed on Olivia’s nude body.

“Yes madam, at once.” She snatched them up, curtsied deeply again and left the room. Olivia squeezing her thighs together, hunted over while bashfully covering her vagina and breasts.

“But, but madam, I have nothing else to wear what…what do I?” The madam, staring stiffly interrupted her sharply, while pointing at a cane hanging on the wall.

“Hand me that cane wench!” Olivia, maintaining her awkward posture hobbled to the wall, carefully lifted it off its hook, and then returning handed it to her; still covering her vagina, then her breasts again. In her wronged state of mind she had no idea what the cane was for. “Turn around, bend over and clap your thighs! Now wench! Arch your back; more…more; spread your feet wider…aaah.” She took a deep audible breath, “ah yes wench, that’s absolutely perfect; never…forget…this position.” Olivia obeyed, adjusting her body as ordered, nervously digging her fingers into her flesh as she cringed in humiliation. She had never suffered physical discipline and had no idea why she was ordered to adopt this position.

She shuddered realizing that her crotch, that most intimate part of her body was now wide open; her vagina, her anus, exposed to the madam’s eyes for whatever she had in mind.She heard an unfamiliar swish, and screamed in terrified shock and pain, as the cane slashed across and deep into her soft fleshy globes. She instinctively rose, clutching them with her hands, screaming in agony. “Get those hands back where they belong wench…or…I’ll lash you to within an inch of your life!” She promptly resumed her position and then suffered three more strokes. She winced and cried with each stroke, desperately afraid to soothe her burning flesh.

The madam then tenderly cared both cheeses. “You got four instead of three for failing to maintain your position. Ah, there’s plenty of supplement flesh here, wench.” She slapped each chef lightly several times and then dug her fingers deep into each globe, growing and caressing, soothing the pain somewhat, while breathing deeply. “Face me wench!” Olivia rose and turned around, clutching her chefs. “Ah, ah wench…hands off the flesh and relish the consequences of disobeying your madam!” She quickly moved her hands.

“Let this be a warning, never speak without being spoken to and never ever…question my orders! Any violence will result in you getting more of this!” She flexed the cane, bouncing Olivia’s breasts with the curve, “is that clearly understand?” She spoke assuming a superior air; one eyebrow raised; her expression changing suddenly to sweet, briefly to arrogant, followed then by a sweet adoring smile.

“Yes…madam.” She whimpered, her voice trembling through a flood of tears; asshe became even more confused by the madam’s variable moods. As the shock wore off, realizing her privates were exposed, she hunted over and promptly covered up again.

“Look me in the eyes and get those hands up behind your neck…now!” Her face turned fierce again, while slapping the palm of her hand with the cane for emphasis. “Unless or course you’d like to bend over again.” She told, her eyes glowing, breaking into a wild smile, obviously eager to wild the cane again. She began to strokeit slowly in the palm of one hand, like a fiddlerbowing a violent. Olivia quickly moved her hands as ordered, hunted over averting her eyes in shame and fear of that omino instrument of pain. “Always look me in the eyes wench, when I speak to you! Stand up straight, push out your chest, shoulders back, and hips forward!” She slapped her palm again displaying that intimidating smile; clearly relishing her authority While her eyes focused at length on Olivia’s uncovered genitals. She then took a deep breath, lingering on Olivia’s now proudly displayed breasts and caught her eyes again as she resumed stroke the violence.

“Something wrong wench? Are we ashamed of showing our naked body?” She flipped one of Olivia’s breasts with the cane, making her gasp. “I’m proud of mine. Spread your feet and thrust out your pelvis more. More!” Olivia obeyed, scanning to achieve the required Stance, as the madam stared at her vagina and then, traced the tip of the cane through her pubic curls./p>

“I’ve…I’ve never been b…bare-naked, before a strange madam.”

“You’re in my service now; your life is about me and nothing else; so…as of today, I’m not a stranger, or do you still think so?” She continued to tracethe cane through her curls.

“No madam I’m…I’m in your service; my…my madam is not a…a stranger.”

“So…is it alright now for your madam to look at and touch your naked body?” The cane moved up and flipped each breasts; again making her gasp, not from pain but fear of the ominous threat it represented to her burning behind.

“Yes…yes madam,” she answered barely audible, while the cane again rearranges her curls.

“What is that wench? I can’t hear you!”

“Yes my madam, can see and feel my n…naked b…b…body.” The cane moved inbetween her thighs; she gasped as it lodged in, and moved from side to side flipping her inner labial lips.

“That’s much better, now…thank me for caning you and tell me why…you deserve it?”She leered at her vagina again, as the cane moved back up to her bush;making her gasp again, as the point glanced her cliporis.

“Thank you…for…for caning me madam.” Her head was spinning; leaving her totally perplexed and unable to focus on right or wrong. Then an irrational quirk in her brain encouraged perhaps by the lingering pain, convinced her to apologize sincerely. “I’m truly sorry; please forgive me madam. I…I must be obedient and… and do what madam tells me or I deserve to be…to be able.”

Dispite her since apology, she desperately fights the urge to cringe in reaction to the humiliating exposure of her privates, violating the most sacre rule of moral behavior in her upbringing. Not only was she naked but the posture demanded, prominently displayed her most intimate areas to the madam’s arrogant stare. Then inexplicably, something in her rattled brain conspired against her better judgement, conjuring up a notion that the madam, as her employer was within her rights and she was being ungrateful by assuming she was being abused. She deserved to be able then; but how could she have known? She felt dizzy, nearly passing out from conflicting thoughts swirling in her head.

“Very well wench, now…get on your knees. Place your hands in the praying position, fingerprint tips on your chin and eyes on the floor.” She obeyed, still trembling nearly losing her balance kneeing; under the illusion now that she was duty bound to obey. “There’s no need to be afraid, wench…as long as you mind my orders. Repeat after me, I am a common household wench and I will obey all orders, no matter what I’m told to do. You will look at me while answering!” Olivia’s voice cracked several times, while tearfully repeating the words; as she watched her madam, savouring every word, struggling that menacing cane.

“Ah, you are improving wench; now like I told you, never speak unless spoken to. If you have a question, fall to your knees, as you are now but wit eyes on the floor and wait until I give you permission to look up and speak but if the question is frivolous you’ll be able.” She flexed the cane smiling wildly.”You may get up, now look in the next room and tell me what you see,” she pointed with the cane to a curtained doorway. Olivia breathed a little easier with the threat of the cane seemingly gone; she got up and pulled the curtain, peering in the room.

“There’s a potty madam and some pails and clothes.” “Alright get up here!” She tapped a milking stool with the cane. Olivia quickly clambered up and after a penetrating star, assumed the required stance again, spreading her feet as much as the stool allowed.

She tucked the cane into her armpit and proceeded to fondle and squeeze her body, digging her fingers almost painfully into her flesh. “Very shapedly you are, beautiful body: waspy wastes,” she spanned it with thumbs and forefingers, squeezing and twisting her body one way and the other; “wide curvaceous hips,” her hands palmed down clutching the widest part, again twisting her body; “and thick sculptured thighs,” Clasped one thigh between her hands, she rolled its flesh, then repeating with the other thigh.

She then palmed her breasts, squeezing, rotating, lifting and then kissed her nipples, sucking and nibbling each gently. “What delicious firm breasts you have; very unusual pearl-fruit shapes.” She took Several deep breaths and then traced their shapes with a finger, tapping each underneath to watch them bounce.

“You are very beautiful aren’t you?” She caught her eyes, flashing a tender smile.” Olivia stopped trembling in response to the pleasant tone and tried to knee on the stool to reply. “It’s alright wench…you may answer standing, when I…ask the question.”

“Thank you madam, many people say I’m…pretty.” Having been raised not to reveal in compliments about her looks, she promptly cocked her head, batting her eyeshes. It did make her feel warm all over, evenforgetting about the unwarranted groping and her sore flesh. The madam stood back and motioned her to turn around. Olivia thought she was being caned again but instead her buttocks and tights were caressed, particularly the inner thighs near her crotch.

“Wonderful round globes, a lot like mine,” she kneaded them, slapping bothlightly, “nice supplement flesh; you’re very strong aren’t you?” “Yes madam, stronger than many average size people, even some boys.” She smiled shyly over her shoulder; for the moment feeling at ease with her madam’s shameless physical inspection.

“Deep rib cage too, good lungs, you’ll be able to perform for extended periods; yes, you’ll serve our needs just fine; we’ll make good use of you.” She pointed to a mattress on the floor; “there is your bed; you will never leave this room, unless ordered by me or Sandra. You know about the potty and water to wash with. You will wash your body daily; I can’t stomach body odours and I will use the cane to enforcethat.

One more thing, you will cursy and bow whenever I enter of leave, failing to do so is a three lash routine; every room in the house is fitted with a cane.Here,” she handed her the cane and pointed at the hook. Olivia stepped off the stool and hung it up and then faced her madam again in the required moment. “Also, Sandra is the number one housekeeper, she will assign your duties and you will follow her orders like mine. She can recommend you be caned, if you don’t measure up”

She held Olivia’s chin, wiping a tear with her thumb while smiling tenderly, before kissing her forehead and wet rosy cheeses. “Yes…you are so very pretty. Olive skin and blond hair is a rare combination. The long hair has to go; you know how to set it up in a bun?” She stroked a strand reaching her breast, with a tender loving smile and then carefully drawn it behind her shoulder.

“Yes Madam I…I know how to…to do that.” She took a deep breath and pointed at the door. Olivia anxiousto open it while cursying deeply and smiling; strangely, almost in admission of the woman. After closing the door she sat on the mattress in the windowless pantry, only dimly lit by a small pane in the door to the kitchen. How could her madam be so cruel and then kiss her so tenderly. The affectionate habitures had made her feel cozy all over and she somehow sensed that the madam was about to embrace her, before she abruptly left.

She heard the sharp sound of the cane ring out five times in the kitchen, then the loud slapses of a hand-spanking. The other service must have done something wrong. She rubbed her own cheeses, not too sore now and wiped a tear. Not wanting to be able again she resolved to work extra hard to please her madam.

The madam had called her body shapedly and beautiful and she didn’t know that her breasts were unusual. She had always taught it natural that the little buds she first developed stayed the same and her breasts just seemed to grow under them. Many people had said she was pretty but she wondered why her body was beautiful. No one but her own family had of course ever seen her with out the frock.

She wondered what she meant by: `performing and serving our needs and we are going to make good use of you.’ Who else was going to use her and for what? Did she mean housework? She’d heard of women having sex with each other; was that what she meant? Was the black maid going to use her too? Her head began to spin as she thought of the master. She shuddered…that big gruff beared man who hired her. Was he going to see her naked and touch her body or worse…have his way with her? There would be nothing she could do but submit or run from the house. She shuddered again: run bare-naked! Remembering that her mother had taught her that sex was only for married couples, she relaxed; her master was already married to the madam, so how could he have sex with her?

She had never thought she’d ever find a husband; no one in the village would marry a midget and no prince on his great white charger had emerged from her dreams to spirit her away. She had believed until yesterday that she’d always live at home; since her mother had refused many offers from traveling circuits to employ her.

She began breathing deeply to relax, curling up hugging herself; perhaps doing it with other women wasn’t so bad; was that really sex? Curiosity about the curls arriving down there at publicty had led to more exploration and soon regular masturbation. She suffered extreme guilt about it for a long time, even believing that she was possessed by evil spirits. She had listened to some older women in the village talking about exorcising evil spirits but she would have to admit that she was doing it and she could never do that. Despite those fears, she had been unable to resist the urge for more than a few days; it was a reprieve from the ridicule she suffered in the village. Now she was faced with a situation she had no controlover. What were the madam’s intentions? She had a feeling there would be more than touching and groping. Maybe women just fingered each other; what else could they do? The madam had touched her in an intimate manner but not her vagina, at least not with her fingers; so was that sex? She began to cry again, shaking uncontrollably; how could this have happened to her? What else would be done to her in this house?