• If you are citizen of an European Union member nation, you may not use this service unless you are at least 16 years old.

  • Work with all your cloud files (Drive, Dropbox, and Slack and Gmail attachments) and documents (Google Docs, Sheets, and Notion) in one place. Try Dokkio (from the makers of PBworks) for free. Now available on the web, Mac, Windows, and as a Chrome extension!


Kikimora fapfic

Page history last edited by Sea Foam 7 years, 2 months ago

A note from Seafoam: I'd like everyone reading this to consider this piece a work in progress. I'm still not happy with it and don't feel it reflects the best writing I'm capable of, so expect changes to be made in the future.


Friday evening, 5PM sharp. One D. Bates returned home from a "long" day at work. He flung open the door to his uncannily clean home and breathed in the wonderful clean scent of cleaner. It was such a drastic change from the musty scent of used tissues and old ramen cups he'd become accustomed to. All of it was thanks to Margarita, the wonderful maid he'd suckered into cleaning up that joint all for the low low price of a blowjob.

"Greetings, Master Bates," the miracle kikimora greeted him from the end of the hallway.
"Good evening, Margarita," Bates answered in his best moneyed accent. The maid's plumage looked a lot better now that she was being properly nourished. Likewise, so did her master when he was being fed proper meals at normal intervals and given a proper shave every morning.
"You're home early."
"No I'm not, it's five on the dot."
"Indeed, but that would mean you left work before five. Significantly before five if one accounts for traffic."
"Yeah, well, I let myself out a little early. It was a long day."
"The fifth hard day this week. Did you know that there are five days in the average work week, Master? That would mean you 'let yourself out early' every single day this week. I think it's important to remember that just because one has a management position does not mean one gets to work less."
"Sorry, sorry," Bates sighed.
"You said that the last four days as well. At any rate, everything is ready. Would you prefer dinner first, or a bath, or perhaps..."


"A bath sounds great!" The man answered, shoving his briefcase into the dutiful maid's hands. "You wouldn't believe how sweaty I got at the c-... job."
"Very well." Any normal person would've picked up on the disappointment in the kikimora's voice, but Bates was far too interested in the comfort of the bath to care. Margarita's slovenly master stripped off his clothes as he headed for the bathroom. Just a few months before that trail would've been an akaname's treasure trail, today it was just another annoyance for the help.

After stripping out of his underwear just outside, Bates slipped into the already steamy bathroom and shut the door. He let out a sigh as he sank into the perfectly warm water and let the tub's water jets blast all his cares away- not that there were many of them at this point. Margarita took care of most of them, and what she couldn't do herself she'd long since henpecked him into doing. Eventually. Most of the time. Bates took pride in never actually meaning what she made him do.
"Master," a familiar voice called through the door, "there are grass stains on your pants."
"Your golf shoes are also missing."
"I was aerating the lawn."
"At work? You were to have that done a week ago."
"It couldn't be that you blew off work today entirely to go golfing, could it?"
"Don't be silly, Rita. I can't golf without my clubs, can I?" And of course, those had been left at home specifically to throw off the maid.
"You could if you used rentals."
Bates flinched. Margarita was nosy, but she was GOOD. Change of tactics, time to stop cowering from the maid and take control.
"Whatever. I'm getting out in five minutes, have dinner prepared."
"Very well, sir."
"Oh, and Margarita? What was that other thing you had ready?"
"...It was nothing, master."


Roast beef was Bates' favorite, and he came down the stairs to find it piping hot and waiting for him on the table. He heartily dug into the food, ignoring the glare Margarita gave him from where she stood. Even he couldn't miss that. Having someone stand behind him while he ate always felt odd to Bates, but this time it felt different; Rita was just standing, she was... looming. Bates turned back to compliment the kikimora's cooking several times, and it seemed like she was standing a little closer every time. By the time he was done eating Bates just barely had room to push his chair back.

After that the master of the house rewarded himself with a little TV. He had to turn on the subtitles because Margarita apparently hadn't cleaned the living room earlier in the day and felt compelled to do so now. She dusted while standing right in front of the TV, banged everything that could be banged without breaking and vacuumed under her master's legs at least ten times. Luckily Margarita's master had become adept at reading subtitles due to years of cartoons, so this wasn't much of an issue for him.

Once it came time for bed Bates strolled up the stairs past his office and did a double take. The desk light was on. It wasn't like Rita to leave lights on unneeded. Oh well, he could take care of it and have a word with her for wasting his money on electricity later.

As soon as he was in the room Bates froze. His briefcase was open. The same briefcase he'd changed to combination on before he came home. The papers within were arranged neatly in a way that would make sense should he choose to review them over the weekend, but one slip of paper was what bothered him. The Gamestop receipt he'd gotten earlier when he pre-ordered the newest Monster Hunter and special edition PSP to match. On the slip someone had left a note in red ink.
It read "PREPARE YOURSELF >:(" in neat print.


At this point I found myself frustrated with the way the story was progressing and decided to jump to the juicy bits. This gap will be filled in later, but for now please consider it a terribly executed fast-forward.


Bates awoke with a yawn and a jingle as he tried and failed to rub his eyes. That was weird, was his hand tied to something? The thought floating through his mind failed to cause any panic, almost as if there was something keeping him calm. As if there was something in that warm glass of milk Margarita had insisted he drink last night.

He turned toward the sound of his kikimora humming gaily and what he saw was enough to wake at least part of him up. Gone was the conservative black and white maid uniform Bates had grown accustomed to seeing her wear, in its stead there was an outfit he might have come up with in his dreams. A shining red leather bustier laced in the back to show off just a glimpse of the pale skin underneath in a addition to her shoulders. A set of low rise red panties in a matching color that left a strip of skin exposed between the bottom of the corset and their beginning served to tease the eye by covering Margarita's important bits, but also to draw attention to the kikimora's tight little ass swaying back and forth as she dusted.

"'Garita." The master of the house managed to groan.
"Oh, you're awake." She said with a smile. "It took you long enough."

The view from the front was no less arousing. The top still held some semblance to uniform with the buttons and white lace around the hems. The way the cut of the cups pushed Margarita's proud and perky C cups up and out for all the world to see combined with two strips of lace cut into an hourglass shape that served to emphasize the narrowness of the maid's waist gave the costume a lewd feeling that even Bates' groggy cock jumped at.

Margarita padded over in over the knee stockings ran a gloved hand over her master's face.
"Are you prepared for what's coming?"


"What's coming?" Bates asked while attempting to get out of bed only to find that he couldn't move his feet either.
"It would seem that despite everything I've done, everything I've helped you do you still aren't taking your role seriously. Do you think I can rest easy with that kind of person as my master?"
"Cut it out. Untie me and make breakfast."
"No. It would seem I've been unable to train your mind into something worthwhile, so I think I'll spend all day staining your body in the colors of a contributing member of society instead. That, of course, means teaching you to obey your helpful little maid."

Rita whipped back the covers to reveal her master's naked form. She sighed inwardly; he looked so much better with a proper diet and some forced exercise. Shame she hadn't been able to do the same to that filthy, sloppy little mind her master came with as well. Maybe if today went well she could still save him.
"Rita, let me go. That's an order."
"No no no," the kikimora chided as she reached into a drawer to pull out candlesticks and a lighter, "I'll give the orders today."

With that Margarita lit a candle and sat straddling Bates' waist. Despite the situation young master found himself reacting to the silky thighs wrapped around his abdomen, the heat of the maid's barely covered cunt soaking into his gut and those delicious breasts jutting out like fruit waiting to be picked just a few feet from his hands. How could he not? Margarita smiled wickedly as she noticed Bates' arousal poking her in the back.
"Good. Now then Mr. Bates, it's time for your first lesson. I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you answer truthfully, you get a reward." As she said the word 'reward,' Rita ran her free hand up the stream of pre leaking from Bates' cock, sending shivers up his spine. "And if you lie, you get a punishment." With that the kikimora let two drops of wax from the burning candle fall onto Bates' chest, making him buck at the sensation. "Understand?"


Her hand shouldn't have felt as good as it did, that wax shouldn't have felt as bad as it did. Why was Bates' body so sensitive? What else was in that milk? Something was wrong, but he was helpless to do anything about it. Helpless to do anything but whine, that is.
"Rita it's hot, stoooop."
"No lies, no wax. It's simple. Now then, first question: where did you go yesterday?"
"Work?" Searing wax. "Ahh!"
"Where? Did? You? Go?"
Bates whimpered. "I went to the course, okay?!" More wax.
"That won't do, you need to tell me everything." The candle burned brightly, the helpless master looked at it and gulped before answering.
"I went golfing, and to the game store, and... and a strip club." Three simple strokes nearly sent Bates to heaven even as the maid clucked her tongue.
"Honestly, a strip club in the middle of the day? Well, we can deal with that later. For now, tell me where you were the rest of the week."
"I-I was in the office, w- ah! Okay, I wasn't at work! I was out, doing not working things!" Two more strokes.
"Did you go to work at all, then?"
"A little on Monday..." It was obvious bates was digging himself into a hole, but for the warmth of the gloved hand, to avoid the searing heat of that wax, he would keep digging until she wanted him to stop.
"Have you been fired yet?"
"Not that I know of. Mmm!"
"Do you not know because you've been screening your calls?"
"Y-yes. Oh god!" One, maybe two more strokes and Bates would've been stained those gloves white with his seed. One more question, maybe two would be all it took to send him over, but there weren't any more.
"I see you lack discipline, Mr. bates. Let's see what we can do about that."

The kikimora stood, leaving her master's dick straining for relief. She wordlessly slid off her now soaking panties and sat down on top of him again, this time on top of one leg. A snail trail formed as she shifted to get comfortable.
"Now then, you're going to hold your breath."


"Hold my breath? That's it?"
"Yes. It's very simple, no? Hold your breath until I tell you to stop and you will have proven that you can in fact do as told. If you fail like a miserable excuse of a man though..."
"Good, then start... now."

Despite his body still reeling from not-quite orgasming Bates was determined to meet those conditions. He wasn't quite sure what game Margarita was playing, but he knew it wasn't going to get any easier. He took a deep breath and held, and held...

Margarita sat atop her master, watching the second tick by on the clock. Thirty. Hardly an accomplishment yet, but hardly a challenge either. No, simply simply succeeding like this would mean nothing. It was time.

Kikimora had a ring of feathers around their wrists. It was dirty and unpleasant, but in a pinch they could serve as a fine feather duster. Margarita took this circle of soft, springy fluff and gently brushed it across her master's toes. the effect was immediate. The man that had been quietly laying beneath her like a log violently shook, the sensation of something so ticklish being dragged across a sensitive spot on an already unnaturally sensitive body was too beach to bear quietly. First there were tremors, then the first snorts of laughter as Bates' willpower failed.
"Pffhaha, rita wait, I can't- ahahaha- hold my breath if you tickle- GAHAHAHA!"
"A better man could. You certainly can't do it while pleading with me, either."

The maid continued relentlessly. Every stroke tickled, every tickle brought a spasm, and every spasm brought Bates' leg against the kikimora's dripping snatch. The two moved in opposite directions. Margarita steadily moved towards orgasm as every errant movement against her clit sent a surge of pleasure up her body, but for Bates tense cramping muscles and too little air only meant a burning pain everywhere. still, Margarita did not stop until she shuddered herself when her master's agony became her ecstasy.


Bates groaned as Rita languished in her afterglow. Everything hurt. Even going to work sucked less than this. If he'd just known he could've skipped the course, slaved through a few hours at work and not had to deal with the henpecking and... this.
"That was pathetic, Mr. Bates," the maid said once she finally came back down to Earth. "You barely lasted forty seconds. Catch your breath and we'll try again. This time I'll help you."
"Rita please..."
"It's too late to beg now. Save your strength, I promise you'll need it."
"Goddammit Margarita, I said-" Bate was interrupted by the crack of his maid's hand slapping into his cheek.
"Language. Now, prepare yourself."

Bates had little more than enough time to take a breath before his dominating maid moved her hips backwards and forced his head into the pillow with her ass. Any other time he might have delighted in having a woman's genitals shoved in his face, but in this way with her butt pressed around his nose and her vulva pushed firmly against his moth there was no air to breathe. He writhed at the thought.
"Now now, calm down and think, Mr. Bates. What can you do to get yourself out of this situation, hmm?"
"Ah~" Margarita cooed as the first laps of Bates' tongue found her snatch. "That's it, take initiative. Get me off and I'll get off."
He tried. You certainly couldn't blame Bates for not trying. His technique was sloppy and unfocused though, and the rapid movement of his tongue, spurred ever faster by the burning in his lungs, did little to pleasure the kikimora on top of him. eventually his movements slowed as the ring of darkness in his vision grew ever larger. Picking up on his imminent loss of consciousness Margarita finally moved and turned to look at him.
"All the times we've been together and that's the best you can do? You don't know my sweet spots at all? You need to pay more attention to the people around you. You're too self-centered."



Of course, her words barely registered as the man tied to the bed sputtered and coughed as the first sweet breaths of air entered his lungs again.

"Oh god," he coughed.

"Shh, you're okay. Now then, let's go again. Can you handle the feathers or do you need me to help you still?"

"I'm sorry!" The exclamation practically came out as a sob. "I'm sorry, okay?! I mean it!"

"That's interesting. Tell me, why are you sorry?" Rita asked as she leaned forward, with the softness of her chest gently resting against his and the one of those exquisite gloved hands reaching down to grasp Bates' still throbbing shaft. "And who are you sorry toward?"

"I'm sorry to you because I let you down. Oh..." Two strokes of supreme bliss hit Bates' cock. It was a struggle not to let his eyes roll back.

"No no, look at me. What else are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry for leaving messes everywhere and not appreciating you and..." The next part of the sentence dissolved into a groan as the kikimora kept pumping apologies out of Bates' penis.

"Yes, that's right, but who else? You have people at the job to apologize too, right?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry to my boss for not finishing those reports and for skipping work, and to my clients for ditching them, and to my employees for not being there..." Bates was so close, but he'd run out of things to say.

"Are you cumming soon?"


"Then go on, and make it count."

"And... and I'm sorry... for being a bad master!"


Margarita's hand froze in place and her eyes grew wide at the apology she wanted to hear most. She practically dove between her master's knees to take his pre-cum oozing swollen broom handle into her and suck like the best vacuum on Earth. She blew Bates with gusto, spurring him to shoot his load into her mouth with everything she had. He obliged, and the semen came out in a torrent so large even the experienced maid could barely swallow.


Both of them collpased into the bed, one panting, the other making sure she swallowed every drop of seed.


"Thank you," Bates whispered as soon as he was aware of the world again.
"You're welcome."
"Can we stop now?" The sentence was half question, half plea.
"No, not yet. But if you keep submitting so earnestly maybe I can be a little more gentle. We have all weekend after all, it'll be easier on both of us that way. do you understand?"
Bates nodded weakly. She was only looking out for him, after all.
"Good," the kikimora began, lazily stroking her master back to hardness. "Now, I believe we were working on your self-discipline?"

Bates went back to work and begged his bosses to let him make up for his absences. He stayed late and worked hard, exhausting himself but doing the best job anyone could ask for. Were it not for the loyal servant at his home working even more diligently now to see to it that her master was completely taken care of at home he would've curled up into a ball and quit, going right back to the pathetic unemployed ways he had before. But she was there, and they had each other.

"Welcome home, master," Margarita greeted her master one day two weeks after that day at the course. "Would you prefer dinner first, or a bath, or per-" She would never finish the sentence, as she found herself forcefully pinned against the wall with brutish hands yanking at her clothes. That was fine, she'd been prepared and long since replaced all of her buttons with snaps and stopped bothering with underwear; she welcomed Batess aggressive advance by wrapping one leg around his waist and hugging his neck as he greedily lapped and nipped at her breast. She smiled at the work she'd done as his hands reached into her dress and explored the naked body beneath.

Yes, Margarita was proud of Bates, and it was vital for an important, alpha male but still caring master like hers to manage his stress, even if it took all night <3.



Do you have any comments or suggestions? Leave them here!

click tracking

Comments (0)

You don't have permission to comment on this page.