A Gipsy Nightmare During Christmas

Full story, enjoy it.

Ps: several times someone complained about the title of this story, or at any rate about the use of the word Gipsy. It was not my intention to offend anyone, in my country they were also broadcasting on TV a program with such a term in the title, so I did not think it was offensive in other parts of the world. The main character in this story is inspired by Helizabeth Polly Grey from the TV series Peaky Blinders, a character I loved.

Chapter 1:

Finally the real winter had arrived, after the last few weeks across Europe had broken every record and that December would long be remembered as the warmest ever... or so it would be said until the next one, after all by now with the climate crisis things would get worse and worse. Eventually, however, the dear old winter had finally arrived and with it the cold and snow. With the price of gas skyrocketing, many Europeans had hoped that the abnormally warm weather would remain for a while longer, bills were scary, and life was getting harder and harder to cope with on a normal salary.

Helen Newton, however, certainly did not have those worries and could only rejoice when the first snowflakes had begun to fall on her small English town, which by some magic had remained almost completely unchanged over the past century, as if the changes in the world did not touch that enchanted place in the middle of the United Kingdom. Only daughter of a famous lawyer, Helen had graduated from the most prestigious school in the country and loved her work as an architect more than anything else in the world. From an early age she had shown a great creative vein, and the immense personal library of a wealthy father had done the rest. Helen had married young, not even 23 years old, and the first thing she had told Charles, her future husband, after she proposed, was that she would be the one to design their house, and so she had done.

Charles was a calm and kind man, he did not show much affection but he loved his young and beautiful wife deeply and would do anything for her and Helen knew it. It was not easy to live without him for several weeks but his company operated mainly in France, in the shipyards, and Charles' presence was often required. However, the woman could not complain, between her work and her husband's, without considering her father's large estate, of which she was the sole heir, the young couple certainly had no financial problems and their mansion was the most beautiful and majestic in the city, the crisis for them did not exist and gas was just a concern of other citizens of a lower class.

With Christmas just around the corner, Helen decided to finally get out of the house to do some shopping; she was way behind schedule that year because of too much work that had kept her busy for several weeks on a very delicate project, and Charles' absence had not helped. But her husband would arrive 4 days later, and Helen awoke from that strange lethargy into which she fell when her soul mate was away, which made her a creature devoted solely to work.

It was December 20, and the stores were crowded with people who, like Helen, had been "forced" to buying Christmas presents at the last minute, perhaps hoping for some discount that in those hard times was only a beautiful illusion. The young woman, now 25, had just bought a varied array of perfumes in a store where she had wasted almost an hour looking for a particular lipstick that was the only one worthy of resting on her noble lips. In the end, the young saleswoman, not finding the product the customer so eagerly desired, had given up and realized that the woman would never buy a different one and it did not matter that it was just as good. After paying and greeting the saleswoman, who breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the customer left her store, Helen looked at her reflection in the window and noted smugly that that new coat really did fit her.

"Versace is always Versace," thought the woman as she continued to study the black coat with its golden buttons like her long hair.

Just then, however, the woman felt someone pull her sleeve roughly, and when Helen turned around, she almost jumped back in horror. A gipsy woman of about 60 was staring at her, almost pleading with her eyes. That creature sitting on the ground with a cardboard in front of her and wearing clothes so filthy and smelly that they would make a pig run away, had dared to touch her new coat, had dared to brush with her filthy hands a woman who was a hundred categories above her.

- Please ma'am, I am hungry -

Helen took another step back, the stench was unbelievable and she had no intention of knowing if the woman's breath was just as gross, or worse, of getting hit by a few drops of her saliva, only God knew what diseases that woman might have. The young woman's eyes fell on the half-empty plate on the floor, with those coins the woman could not even have bought bread for lunch, let alone soap to wash herself. What would it have cost her to stop for a moment, open the rich wallet, Versace like her coat, and pull out a few coins? Helen could have bought food and new clothes for that woman for a whole year and not even notice the slightest change in her bank account, but then why was she hesitating to do something so simple? It was as if the brilliant architect was disgusted already to be within walking distance of that woman, to be seen near that wretched creature, interacting with her would have been even worse.

- Just a few coins my beautiful lady - the old woman pleaded with her again, holding out the palm of her dirty, wrinkled hand.

- To buy what? Alcohol and drugs? Certainly not soap - Helen finally said, increasingly disgusted, before turning and walking away as fast as she could from that place and hoping soon to see a policeman to complain to him and say to clean out the place of those beggars who existed only to ruin Christmas shopping for tax-paying citizens.

That cruel scene had not gone unnoticed by the many people who crowded the street filled with lights and Christmas songs that gladdened spirits and hearts. Among them was a woman about 45 years old, elegantly dressed, with a long, thin cigarette between her full lips, magnificent with red lipstick.

- Here, take these my dear. And best wishes for Christmas- the woman said, leaning over to the beggar and dropping several bills that would completely change the next few weeks for her.

The gipsy woman's eyes filled with tears as she gazed at that woman so beautiful and so good, and for a moment she tried to shake her hand, before stopping for fear of soiling the woman's beautiful black gloves. The latter however seemed to understand what she was trying to do and grasped her hand gently, before hugging the beggar warmly, almost risking her beautiful hat slipping off her head.

- Thank you, thank you my lady and Merry Christmas to you too - replied the beggar, almost kissing the hands of that angel who had come down to earth to protect and comfort her after a new, and certainly not the last, humiliation of her life.

Helen had just returned home, changed her clothes quickly, and, after once again studying a few changes to make to the project she had been working on for weeks now, prepared herself a quick lunch, wishing once again that her Charles would return soon. Just as the woman was finishing lunch, she heard a knock at the front door.

"Who on earth could it be at this hour?" Helen thought, tempted not to open it. But then the woman, who was a dreamer, pictured Charles with a broad smile and many flowers, ready to surprise her, and that thought was more than enough to make her rush to the door.

Unfortunately for her, it was not Charles, and for a moment the girl was tempted to slam the door in the face of that stranger who had disturbed her during her lunch and probably would have done so if such an elegant and beautiful woman had not been standing in front of her. Helen did not recognize the brand of her hat or her dress, both of which were black like the woman gloves, but she was sure that they were of excellent quality and that the woman in front of her was wealthy as well as definitely having good taste.

- How can I help you? - Helen asked with a broad smile.

- Sorry to bother you, but I just read the ad regarding the rent of a depandance and I am very interested -

- Oh yes, but hmm... my husband is in charge of that - Helen answered uncertainly, continuing to study that no longer young but still incredibly beautiful woman.

That depandance had been the subject of a big quarrel between husband and wife, the only one they had during their relationship. Helen had imagined that place exclusively for her future children, where they could live with their own independence, but always close to her. Charles, on the other hand, thought it was a waste not to use that space and had finally convinced her to rent it for some time, some extra money was always useful and besides, there was not even a shadow of children for the time being, as they were too busy with their respective jobs. But no one seemed to be interested in that little gem that Helen had so lovingly designed, no one so far at least.

- Oh I see, that's too bad. I was already planning to spend Christmas here in town... - the woman said, as she fiddled with a small necklace she had suddenly pulled out.

Helen could only stare at the pendant that looked very old and certainly very expensive. The girl doubted she had ever seen such a thing, a piece of jewelry of such workmanship that seemed to have been forged by some mythological being who had managed to enchant light, bending it to the pendant will and freeing it from the laws of physics. Helen could not take her eyes off that pendant, she followed its every slightest movement with her blue eyes and tried in vain to catch every reflection of light... but what light? Was it that of the sun? Or it came from the lamp in the living room behind her? But did that light really exist or was it all a figment of her imagination? Helen did not know and perhaps did not even care, however, she should not stop looking at that pendant, she was sure of that, something terrible would happen if she looked away.

- Are you really sure there is nothing you can do? I would appreciate it if you could help me, I have no desire to go to a hotel, it can be incredible beautiful but it's never your home -

- Your home... - Helen repeated those words without being able to hear their sound coming out of her mouth, the girl was totally lost in another world at that moment.

- Well... it will be my home if you, my dear, say yes - the elegant woman said again, continuing to move the pendant of her necklace with her long fingers with red polish.

- Yes... - the girl seemed to no longer have a functioning brain, that brilliant mind of hers that had made her graduate with honors was now nothing more than an empty, cold teapot.

- Wonderful! How about we go inside in the meantime? It's starting to get cold outside -

Chapter 2:

It seemed like only a few seconds since she had cooked and eaten her delicious meal during her lunch, yet her stomach was growling with hunger and the sun had long since set. Helen could remember almost nothing of what she had done in the afternoon, of one thing she was certain, however, she had rented the depandance to a beautiful, elegant, and surely wealthy woman who would treat with care a place Helen cared so much about. The girl tried to remember what amount they had agreed on for the rent but her mind seemed to get lost every time she tried and eventually Helen let it go, it was not important for the moment, she just wanted her "guest" to feel at home as soon as possible and so she decided to bake some cookies for her, she was not very good in the kitchen but Esmee would appreciate her effort anyway.

"Esmee? That woman's name is Esmee? When did she tell me?" Helen asked herself as she whisked the eggs and once again her brilliant mind failed miserably to process something so simple.

When the cookies were finally ready, Helen opened the back door, walked quickly through her beautiful garden, gazing with delight at the new "poinsettias" that make her feel that Christmas air she sorely needed, especially in Charles' absence, and finally knocked on the door of the small but magnificent depandance. Her heart began to beat faster, and the girl wondered why. And then here again that woman so beautiful and elegant, standing before her. This time Esmee was no longer wearing her hat, and Helen could thus admire her long, wavy black hair, with a few untamed curls that seemed to have a life of their own like Medusa's snakes.

- Ah, my dear Helen, please take a seat, make yourself at home - the woman said laughing and Helen felt something strange inside her, almost as if the sound of that laughter took the floor out from under her feet.

As Helen entered that open space she had so carefully designed, the girl could not help but study every minute detail of Esmee who was now wearing a lounge outfit, with panta-palazzo and a fit, high-necked wool sweater, all in black, which surely must have been her favorite color.

The girl's gaze lingered on the woman's bare feet, and for a moment she was disgusted, there was nothing that disgusted her in that way, she just couldn't stand the sight of other people's feet and certainly felt a great deal of discomfort at seeing that woman barefoot in her home, on her prized hardwood floors. Esmee seemed to notice Helen's disapproving look but seemed amused by it, perhaps she had found something that could be useful to her, something that would allow her to play with that spoiled girl for a long time. The woman's hands again pulled out the beautiful necklace that adorned her delicate neck, and she began again to twirl the pendant between her fingers as she had done a few hours earlier. Esmee immediately noticed the change in her young landlady's gaze and could not hold back her beautiful laugh. It was all so simple, no resistance, no will to fight, even a child would have done better, the pendant had more effect on weak minds and Helen must have been hiding that weakness all her life, just waiting for the right person to set her free.

- Light likes to play, did you know that? Can you see how it dances? - the woman asked with a smile.

- It dances... - Helen repeated, staring again at that pendant so beautiful that she felt as if she had already seen it in a dream from which it was hard to wake up, from which she hated to wake up.

- Do you know who loves to dance, dear Helen? The gypsy women! You love gypsies don't you? - Esmee's hand rotated the pendant of her necklace faster and faster between her fingers, even the air around the woman seemed to move, as did the light, that light that liked to play and dance... like gipsy women

- I love... gypsies? - Helen said, was hers a question or a statement? She didn't know, she didn't know any more at that moment, only that she had to look at that pendant, lose herself inside its dance, like a beautiful gipsy.

Esmee stroked the young woman's cheek for a few seconds and watched her eyes fixed on the pendant, empty but so alive at the same time.

- Yes dear Helen, you love gypsies and you love to see them dance but do you know what happens when you dance barefoot in a field, near the fire, near the wagon that is your true home and always will be as you move here and there through the world? - then without waiting for an answer that the girl would never be able to give, Esmee continued - Your feet get dirty, they get so dirty that the soles turn black like the coal you used to light the bonfire when you don't have much wood. But do you think gypsy women like having such dirty feet? Do you think they like going back to their wagon with soles of that color? No, they can't stand it, it makes them unhappy. You don't want a gypsy woman to be unhappy do you? -

Helen didn't know what she wanted, she didn't know what gipsy people loved or hated to do, but it didn't matter, she had to look at the pendant and do what it whispered to her in a soft voice, the voice of an angel from another world, a wonderful sound that made everything swirl, just like that pendant between the fingers of that beautiful woman.

- I don't want a gipsy woman to be unhappy - the pendant whispered to her and Helen repeated everything as if it came from the depths of her soul - I don't want their feet to leave dirt everywhere, it's my job to prevent it - the girl's voice was flat and emotionless but that didn't make Esmee find it any less amusing and she could only continue to play with her.

- And how can you be of any help? Let me think... hmm maybe you could take off your shirt and clean my filthy feet with it... I am gypsy too after all -

The news did not shock Helen, nothing could have done that at that moment, not even the sight of those feet so dirty and smelly that they would make anyone run away at the mere sight of them. But had those feet always been so dirty? Were they like that a few minutes, even a few seconds before? Or in an istant, almost by magic had those feet, which were so pretty and well-groomed, now become almost as black as coal just like Esmee had said moments before? Helen cast those questions out of her mind, she did not have to think, she could not think, she had to listen to Esmee's voice, the voice of the pendant... she had to obey. Without even noticing and heedless of being braless, the girl took off the orange T-shirt her father had given her, which contrasted so much with the black of Esmee's clothes, and bent down ready to clean those filthy feet with it. But the woman resumed speaking in her sensual voice as the pendant continued to twirl in her hands and with it that strange light.

- Or you could use your tongue, a foot bath is the best of the best for dirty feet. And doesn't a gypsy woman deserve the best? -

Helen did not answer, the pendant's voice kept echoing in her head, overpowering even Esmee's words, the girl was even tempted to plug her ears, but that was not what the pendant told her to do. No, she had to open her mouth and stick out her tongue, that was the proper task for her, so she would make the pendant, Esmee and the gipsy women happy.

"What a strange feeling" Helen thought as her tongue rested on Esmee's feet for the first time, discovering flavors she had never known before.

Her tongue continued to explore the feet of the woman she had only just met but who seemed to know everything about her, seemed to read her mind and somehow molding it to her liking, making her do things that were so absurd but that at that moment seemed so natural, so right.

That sour taste was particularly pleasant and the girl could not stop, she had to have more, she had to restore those wonderful feet to their original splendor. Gypsy women were not happy with filthy feet, after all, and she would do anything to make Esmee happy, and the first step was to lick all that dirt off her soles.

Soon Helen's tongue turned black, but she didn't care, just as it didn't matter that her knees hurt, the floor was hard and she had been prostrate in front of the woman for minutes or maybe even hours. Esmee, who had been sitting in a chair and admiring with satisfaction the work of her young landlady, could not help but smile at the sight of that dirt transferring from her feet to poor Helen's tongue, which seemed to have been made for that very job.

- What is the purpose of a human being, dear Helen? To seek happiness - Esmee said suddenly, fiddling again with the pendant that instantly attracted the gaze of the young woman who, however, continued to lick the woman's feet with devotion and expertise.

- Happiness... - Helen repeated between licks and she was so funny that Esmee burst out laughing uncontrollably.

- Yes my dear, happiness - Esmee continued when she managed to regain control - And do you know where a woman like you can find happiness? Right here, between the toes of a gypsy woman -

With her gaze almost lost in emptiness, Helen watched as the woman slipped a finger between her own big and second toe and almost as if an invisible force was pulling an imaginary leash around her neck, Helen moved her head and her tongue from Esmee's now totally clean soles and began to explore a new area of her feet, searching for happiness.

"Is this happiness?" Helen wondered when her tongue found a bit of toejams and a voice in her head, the omnipresent voice of the pendant, answered her in the affirmative.

Helen picked up every trace of dirt from between Esmee's toes, and when her tongue did return to the inside of her mouth, the young architect could only taste with joy that much-desired and wanted happiness. With each new flick of her tongue, with each new lick, Helen was happier and happier, and so was Esmee, who did not miss a second of that scene that was so much fun that she wished it would never end. But everything had a limit, and the wise woman knew well that the girl's mind would not hold the powerful influence of her pendant much longer.

Chapter 3:

Helen found herself in the kitchen, it was already dark outside as could be seen from the darkness that filtered through the large windows of her beautiful home. Something was boiling in the pot, and judging by the smell, it must have been something delicious. Helen had never been much of a cook, her husband had never hidden that from her, and she could hardly get mad at him for being honest, she knew she was terrible between the stoves. Yet that time she seemed to have actually done something good, although she could not remember how she had done it or what she had cooked. What Helen did know was that she had to make an effort to prepare an exquisite dinner for her special guest, Esmee had just arrived in town and even though she had only been renting the depandance just a few hours back, she was already a member of the family and should be treated as such.

As she finished preparing dinner, Helen ran into the parlor checking that everything was in place and that the dinner table was worthy of such a noble and venerable guest. After lighting a large scented candle and arranging the cushion of the chair intended for Esmee, the girl returned to the kitchen to check that nothing had been burned. Then she heard a knock at the back door.

- Dear Helen, what is this spectacular scent I smell? -

Esmee was really beautiful, the woman looked as if she had just stepped out of some 1920' movie and her long red dress, which left her shoulders bare, would have made several Hollywood stars jealous. Helen could not help but notice that that dress seemed to be covered with precious stones that reminded her very much of that pretty pendant Esmee used to wear around her neck. The young architect's gaze rested for a moment on the woman's buxom breasts barely concealed by the dress and then on that object that looked like...

- I hope you have prepared a dinner that can make a gipsy woman happy. You want to make a gipsy woman happy, don't you Helen? -

-I...- Helen stammered trying to remember what she had cooked and wondering if it would be enough to make Esmee happy, she did not even dare to imagine what might happen if she failed, if she was not able to make a gipsy woman happy.

Esmee did not wait for her landlady to finish a speech she was completely unable to make and, after she patted Helen's head as if she were her dog, the woman entered the house and headed for the parlor as if she knew the place perfectly well, almost as if she were in her own home.

- Oh, you set the table for two people I see. Why waste water to wash a second dish when it is not absolutely necessary? You must be more thrifty my dear, the resources of our beautiful planet are not infinite, are they? -

- Aren't they? - Helen asked confused, a part of her wondered how should she eat but a now familiar voice in her head told her she didn't have to worry about that, she had to obey, not think.

Helen took the second plate, the cutlery and the glass she had placed on the table for her, back to the kitchen and as Esmee sat comfortably in the chair Helen had so carefully prepared for her guest, the young architect hurried to serve the dinner that she hoped would taste as good as it smelled.

- The wine - Esmee said imperiously, snapping her fingers and Helen could only rush back into the kitchen as if she was her maid.

After filling her guest's glass, Helen stood observing Esmee, waiting for something that would make her realize what she had to do.

- You know what, dear Helen? - Esmee began to say twirling her pretty pendant between her fingers - Gypsy women love to watch a show while they have dinner -

- A show... -

- That's right dear Helen, I personally love to laugh and it would make me very happy to dine while a court jester entertains me, as they used to do in the past with kings and queens. You want me to be happy don't you? There is nothing you want in the world more than to be my jester, right? -

- Right? - Helen repeated, her gaze lost in the pendant that kept dancing between the fingers of the woman who would be her queen that night.

The light that the pendant seemed to reflect was even more intense than usual, the light danced ceaselessly, an endless rhythm like the waves of the sea. Helen's head began to whirl... or was it the pendant whirling? The woman's body was as numb as her mind, and her legs felt as if they should give way under the weight of her body at any moment. Even her eyelids were heavy, too heavy, and Helen thought it would be better to close her eyes, maybe her head would not spin around like that anymore.

- You look absolutely wonderful, now that is a dress worthy of a court jester, my dear -

Esmee's voice forced her to open her eyes again, her body seemed to have awakened and her blood had resumed its normal circulation. But there was something different about her... she... she... when had she changed clothes? Helen looked at her reflection in the large mirror that adorned her elegant living room and was amazed at what she saw. She was wearing a dress she had never bought, an extremely sexy dress that highlighted her beautiful body. She had never worn a miniskirt... so mini, and all those black and white squares reminded her very much of a checkerboard. Of the same color and same satin fabric it was the corset that forcefully compressed her chest and almost prevented her from breathing, while around her waist there was a red and black sequined triangular overlays tipped with bells, the sound of which echoed in the room with her every slightest movement. Completing her court jester costume was a large quilted satin collar as white as her wrist cuffs, long nylon stockings that were red in her right leg and black in her left and black stiletto heel boots.

- But... when I... -

- That's right my dear, I was wondering the same thing. When are you going to start making me laugh? You don't want my dinner to get cold, do you? For starters, why don't you put your two ponytails inside these? I think you would look better in something darker -

Helen observed her hair and could only wonder again when she had changed her hairstyle. Then she looked at what Esmee had just given her and realized that they were two long black nylons, which from the pungent smell seemed to have been used a lot. It was not until several minutes later that the girl understood what Esmee wanted, and with extreme effort she put her two ponytails inside the soiled stockings, hoping that they would not fall off her head.

- Now we are talking - Esmee exclaimed bursting out laughing - Now you are a real court jester, ready to make your queen laugh. Why don't you dance a little for your Mistress, little monkey?

There was nothing more beautiful than dancing, gypsy women loved to dance and even that beautiful pendant always danced nonstop, so why to be less? Helen began to move and immediately the little bells attached to her new dress came to life. The girl didn't know what kind of dancing she was doing, but Esmee laughed and that was the only thing that mattered, she lived to make that gipsy woman happy and she would dance for eternity if Esmee wanted. Then after the woman had finally begun to eat, with her fork in midair, Esmee said:

- Enough dancing, my jester, show me a good imitation of some animal. Let's see... hmm yes, start being a chicken... yes, like that, move those arms well -

What a pathetic sight she must have been as she waved her arms non-stop and made noises that would embarrass anyone, but she was just a court jester and would do anything for her queen, Helen thought as she continued her humiliating display.

- Okay, now show me what a good dog you are -

As Helen moved on all fours down the hall of that house she had so lovingly designed, the girl thought back to her sweet husband and wondered what he was doing at that moment while she was busy entertaining her guest by moving an imaginary tail, with her mini-skirt that did not hide her pretty bottom at all, and that corset that took her breath away more and more with each new bark that was always followed by Esmee's laughter.

- Come here little doggy, you deserve a reward- the gipsy woman suddenly said and when Helen crawled toward her and was a few steps away from the table, Esmee dropped a piece of meat on the floor which her jester/dog hurried to eat without thinking for a second about the degrading act she had just done.

For once Helen had actually cooked something good, the girl in fact did not think she had ever eaten something so delicious and what did it matter if she was eating it from the ground like an animal?

"You are a dog after all aren't you? Dogs eat like that and dogs lick... lick everything" that strange voice in her head told her and for some reason Helen thought it was right and without even realizing it, the young girl, finished eating the piece of meat Esmee had graciously offered her, she went to her guest's feet and licked her black satin décolleté.

- I like the way you think, my jester - Esmee said looking down at Helen still on all fours under the table. Then, removing her shoes elegantly, the woman continued - Why don't you rub my feet a little with that beautiful tongue of yours while I finish this delicious dinner you have prepared for me? -

Helen did not think for a moment about objecting, she was supposed to make gypsy women happy, Esmee was a gypsy, so she had to make Esmee happy, or so at least it was what that voice inside her head was continuing to tell her. The girl could have sworn she also heard a sweet melody accompanying that ethereal voice that seemed to belong to a deity and for that reason everything she heard must be the truth. The young architect studied the bare feet in front of her for a few seconds and noticed that Esmee's feet were barely larger than hers, her toes were long but the woman's little toe was unusually much shorter. This time Helen was not faced with filthy, smelly feet like a few hours earlier when she had... had done what? No matter how hard the young woman tried, she could not quite remember what she had done in the previous hours, just as she could not remember what she had cooked. For a moment the woman worried that she had some brain damage, an elderly aunt of hers had Alzheimer and Helen, knowing that it was a hereditary disease, could not help but shudder at the mere thought that she too, though still young, could suffered from it.

But her thoughts and preccoupations were fortunately swept away by the usual voice that was now as familiar to her as that of a relative. Helen moved even closer to Esmee's feet, brushing them with her delicate nose, and as the elegant woman put a new piece of delicious meat into her mouth, her landlady's lips closed around Esmee's big toe, beginning to suck it greedily, as if it were the most delicious meal in the world. Helen's tongue moved deftly, something even she did not think she knew was able to. Her husband had so often criticized her blowjobs that she had finally given in to the idea that she would never be able to satisfy her man as he deserved, and the last times Helen had merely stood still with her mouth open and Charles's dick inside it, leaving her husband free to violently fuck it for as long as he needed to empty all his liquid inside her, before swallowing it all as he desired. The girl could not help but compare the taste of Charles' cum with that of Esmee's feet, and part of her was ashamed to admit that she preferred the latter.

"Gypsy women are the best, everything about them is perfect" that voice told her again, and Helen realized that even the foot-sweat of a gypsy woman was a thousand times better than the best taste she had ever savoured.

Esmee continued to watch the docile pet who worship her feet under the table as she continued to dine without a care in the world. Helen seemed truly born for the job and relentlessly licked her feet without neglecting a single inch of them, from her long toes to her heel, her soles like the top of her feet, Helen licked everything, happy and desperate at the same time. As the girl's tongue danced in the middle of her toes, Esmee, who held back her laughter with difficulty because of the tickling, pushed her face away with a little kick.

- No more licking for now. Lie on your back, I want to use your face as a footstool for the rest of dinner -

Helen hurried to obey and soon found both of the woman's feet in her face, her soles obscuring her vision. The architect did not know how long she had been in that position, reduced to a mere object for the pleasure of a woman she had known for only a few hours, reduced to being a footstool under her own table, in her own home. But despite her fatigue, the weight of Esmee's feet on her face and having part of her body numb from her prolonged immobility, Helen found that situation strangely pleasurable.

"It is an honor to silently serve a gypsy woman, to be useful to her even as a piece of furniture."

Helen had now stopped wondering when that voice in her head would disappear and had agreed to live with it and follow its every word as if it were a divine law. It didn't matter if Esmee's feet were sweating profusely on contact with her skin, as she could well notice from the strong odor that had been reaching her nostrils for a few minutes, and it was only an honor if at the end of the evening the footprints of that noble woman's feet would be stamped in her face, the only thing that mattered was making that gipsy woman happy, because...

"Gipsy women are perfect and I can only hope that I am lucky enough to offer my face as their doormat" Helen thought, this time the voice in her head was as quiet as the infinite dark space between the stars, after all, there was no need for it anymore, the girl had understood her place in the world.

Chapter 4:

- I'm cold, maybe I shouldn't have gone out like tha... -

- Don't talk nonsense, dear Helen. At your age you could walk around naked until dawn even on a frosty night like this - Esmee interrupted her, smiling as she saw the shocked image of the girl who was probably already seeing in her mind a vision of a much less demure version of herself, outside some club with a group of men whistling behind her, drooling at the sight of her gorgeous young naked body.

Resigned, Helen could do nothing but follow Esmee down the deserted city street as the snow had begun to fall again. Normally the girl would have worried about being seen out in a dress like that, who knows what her friends might have thought of her if they had seen her dressed like a sexy court jester, it wasn't Hallowen after all. What about her colleagues? She could already hear the wicked laughter of Karen, a woman in her mid-fifties who had been working her whole life as a secretary in the city's leading architectural firm and who seemed to hate all young women with college degrees and more important and higher-paid positions than hers. But there was no time to worry about those things, Esmee was happy that she was dressed that way and that was all that mattered... even if she was freezing.

- All right, put this on - Esmee finally said, tired of hearing the girl chattering her teeth in the cold.

Helen looked at what looked like an old vomit-green blanket, full of holes and so smelly that her head began to whirl. The girl wished to refuse, never would she have worn something like that, not she who used to wear high-fashion clothes that only a few could afford. Besides, that nauseating smell would make anyone run away, no one would accept her presence.

"But it's so cold..." Helen thought, looking at Esmee for mercy. Then, resigned, the girl grabbed the filthy blanket the woman was handing her with a wide grin on her face, and not even for a moment did the girl wonder where the woman had pulled the shabby thing from.

Helen hid her sexy dress under the smelly blanket and could not help but notice how dirty and unkempt she looked compared to Esmee who instead was now wearing a long black coat, with a scarf that looked like a fox's tail that would probably raise the ire of some animal activists at the mere sight of it. Nevertheless, the blanket was a great help, and finally the girl's teeth stopped chattering from the cold and her hands stopped shaking.

The two women walked for several minutes and stopped only when they saw a small green neon sign.

- Is this the famous Irish pub?- Esmee asked, pulling out an old mouthpiece, fashionable in the early decades of the twentieth century, and beginning to smoke with style.

-Yes... wait a minute... I forgot my wallet at home! - Helen exclaimed in disbelief, such a thing had never happened to her. And as the girl was already thinking of running back, Esmee told her:

-No problem, you can always earn some money while I have a few drinks -

Helen looked at the woman in amazement, what was the meaning of what she had just said? Earning money... what? How?

- Don't make that face, it's much easier than it looks. Just sit there on the ground and wait for someone to come by... someone kind-hearted - Esmee said fiddling with her necklace again and Helen noticed that her pendant looked like a wonderful snowflake falling and twerling endlessly.

"There was a Gypsy woman who make a lot of money this way, don't you want to be like that gypsy woman?" the voice in Helen's head said... or was it Esmee?

- Like... that gipsy woman? - Helen repeated with her eyes fixed on the pendant.

- Just like that gipsy woman, yes. Here, put this on too, it will keep your ears warm and hide that ridiculous hairstyle - Esmee said giving her a red headscarf, worn and smelly as much as the blanket Helene was already wearing.

Esmee was right, her ears were already much better now, but was she really going to stay out there, begging, while the woman was having fun inside the pub? And at that hour and in that cold weather was anyone really going to come by that street, besides the drunks who had already spent all their money on alcohol? But all that didn't matter, it was just an honor to be like a gipsy woman, even if only for one evening, and Helen sat down on the floor where Esmee had pointed out to her, before placing what appeared to be a metal dog bowl in front of her.

- Try to fill it with lots of coins, you don't want to make me do a bad impression when it comes time to pay for my drinks, do you? -

-Drinks? - Helen repeated without really understanding what Esmee was telling her.

Smiling in front of the girl's stupid expression, the elegant woman, still continuing to smoke, went inside the pub, leaving Helen alone and in the cold. Several minutes passed and the street remained as deserted as they had found it, only the stinking blanket and Christmas lights that decorated many of the houses managed to stop the advance of frost and darkness. Helen should have asked herself why she was doing all that, why she was sitting there on the floor like a beggar. Wasn't she, after all, a woman with a brilliant career and from a wealthy family? So how had she ended up in that situation?

But Helen didn't ask herself all those questions, Esmee had told her to earn some money so she could pay for her night of fun, and she was going to do it, just like a real gypsy woman. When some of the patrons of the Irish pub came out and faced the young girl, almost unrecognizable behind that shabby blanket and with that headscarf hiding her beautiful hair, most of them did not even approach her, others instead insulted her and someone even spit on the ground a few steps away from her. No one gave her anything, not even a measly penny, and Helen began to believe that she would fail, that she would disappoint Esmee and make her unhappy.

"I must do more, I must do more" the girl thought, unable to bear the idea that a gypsy woman was not happy, especially if it was her fault.

Helen decided that the next person would be special, she could not leave without putting something in her bowl and she would do anything to get some coins. The girl, however, could not imagine that the next person to leave the pub would be Karen, the insufferable secretary who hated Helen and all her young colleagues. For a moment with a clear mind, the girl thought about hiding or running away, she couldn't let anyone who knew her see her like that, certainly not someone like Karen. Then that usual voice returned to her head and Helen decided she had to do something to make Esmee happy.

- Please ma'am, I'm hungry. Just a few coins, my beautiful lady-

Why did those words sound so familiar to her? Besides, it took a lot of courage to call someone like Karen beautiful, who was profusely overweight, had a masculine haircut that somehow made her face even chubbier, and that night had a big, very red nose, a sign that she had been drinking a lot. The woman looked at her for a few seconds but showed no sign that she recognized the brilliant young architect amidst those filthy, smelly garments. For a moment Helen thought that the woman was coming toward her, perhaps she would finally earn her first money, but then Karen staggered past her.

- Please ma'am, I will do anything for a few coins -

Those words seemed to make an impression on the woman, who stopped suddenly and turned very slowly to observe the beggar again.

- If you boots my pol... er I mean, if you polish my boots, I will give you something- Karen said babbling, evidently drunk - In this country you don't do anything for nothing, if you want money you have to work to earn it- those last words were almost unintelligible but Helen didn't care, she understood the main thing, if she polished the woman's boots she would finally earn something for Esmee.

Helen had never polished boots and had no idea what to do or if tools were needed, in any case she had nothing but the blanket that kept her warm and she decided to use that for the job.

- Don't touch me with that stinking thing- Karen said before letting out a resounding belch that she was unable to hold back.

The woman turned and began to stagger away and Helen became increasingly desperate, she could not afford to lose her first "customer." Getting up with difficulty, she ran after the woman, almost stumbling because of the blanket that had gotten under her feet.

- Please ma'am don't leave, please - Helen said whimpering and desperately threw herself at the woman's feet - I'll use my tongue, I'll be good I swear - and in an instant, the beautiful girl buried under some beggar's garments, stuck out her tongue and began to lick the boots of the obnoxious secretary who stood paralyzed watching that wretched creature make such a degrading gesture but that somehow it was igniting something in her.

Karen felt her head whirling, she had really had too much drinks that night and would not be able to stand much longer, but she had to, she was enjoying too much that spectacle before her eyes. Helen licked and licked, her mind unable to formulate any logical thought, nothing that could make her understand what she was doing, nothing that could stop that excruciating humiliation that could have destroyed her life forever if only Karen had noticed the true identity of the beggar woman at her feet, who was polishing her boots with her tongue, heedless of the dirt and germs they had accumulated from walking down the street.

- I have to do it, just as that gipsy woman would do this- Helen said to herself. But was it really like that? She had never seen a gipsy woman humiliate herself like that, had never seen any beggar sacrifice every ounce of dignity to get a few pennies from passersby. So why was she doing all that? Why was she allowing Karen to trample on her pride?

"But it's not Karen's fault, she didn't do anything and she doesn't even know who I am. I threw myself at her feet, I stuck out my tongue and began to polish her boots with it as if I were a desperate dog looking for food" Helen thought, but the girl did not stop for a moment and diligently continued her work as the snow was falling more and more.

The girl's tongue was freezing but that did not give her permission to stop; she would never do so before Karen was satisfied and gave her the long-awaited reward. The woman's boots were old and very dirty and she knew it would not be easy to bring them back to their former glory, but she had to try, she had to do everything she could to accumulate as many coins as possible and make Esmee happy, who meanwhile was enjoying herself inside the pub, warm and with delicious beer in front of her. Helen didn't taste any particular flavor that time and strangely didn't know whether to be happy about that or not, and so she continued to lick and lick, her tongue growing tired and sore. To Karen's amazement, the girl at her feet did not even hesitate to lick under the soles of her boots, and the woman, who continued to stand up with difficulty, began to think it was all a dream created by alcohol.

Helen did not know how long she had been on the floor, during what was becoming a real snowstorm, polishing the boots of one of her "co-workers", but the girl thought that at least 30 minutes must have been passed, even if they seemed endless hours. In the end, however, Karen seemed satisfied with her work, and after studying her boots for a few seconds, she turned away from the beggar woman still prostrate at her feet and staggering to the metal bowl, she threw something into it. Helen's heart filled with joy at hearing that wonderful jingle, at last she had succeeded, she had earned some money she could give to Esmee, although she would probably have to hope for a few more "customers" in order to get enough money to pay for the woman's drinks. By the time Karen was long gone, Helen, happy that she had not been identified, approached the metal bowl with a smile to see how much her humiliating and exhausting work had been paid. The girl stood paralyzed looking at the coins in the palm of her trembling hand: seven one-penny coins and two twenty-penny coins.

"I did all this... I licked the shoes of a woman who hates me and would not have hesitated a second to have me kicked out of my job if she could, and I didn't even earn half a pound?" Helen wondered in despair, not really knowing how she could deal with Esmee after that sensational failure.

Other pub patrons came out of the pub over the next few minutes, but none of them gave her any money, and the girl could only lie on the floor, wrapped in the threadbare blanket, waiting for Esmee to return, waiting to see the disappointment on her beautiful face. Helen had fallen asleep when Esmee finally came out of the pub, walking quietly, as if she had not been drinking gallons and gallons of alcohol for hours. The woman could not hold back a smile at the sight of that pathetic creature on the floor, who only the day before was a brilliant young architect with money to be able to buy herself half a city, and who today was instead begging in the freezing cold for those few pennies inside the metal bowl, on the sidewalk, beside her sleeping body.

-Time to wake the sleeping beauty, I guess -

Chapter 5:

Dec. 24

Christmas Eve had always been a special evening for Helen, a magical time where she could gather her family and have fun together, reminisce about the joys of the past, and look wistfully at those empty chairs that attracted everyone's gazes like powerful magnets. Ten years had passed since her mother's death, but for Helen the wound was still bleeding and it was hard not to think of the song her beautiful, sweet mother used to sing to her during the Christmas holidays. That year, however, things were going to be very different, her father was on a cruise with his very young new girlfriend who was just two years older than Helen, and her aunt and uncle were still shut in because of a nasty flu virus. Despite everything Helen knew it was going to be a happy Christmas, her beloved Charles would be arriving in a few minutes, and nothing could make her as happy as finally being able to hug her dear husband again. The girl didn't want to cook on a day like that, she didn't want to risk ruining Christmas with her bad cooking, so she had ordered take-out food from a well-known place in town. She did not yet know if Esmee, the woman who had just rented her depandance would join them for dinner, but in her heart she hoped so; in fact, she had not seen her since the woman had taken possession of her new home...

"How strange, and yet it seemed to me that... ah what nonsense I am thinking" Helen said to herself, not understanding why such bizarre thoughts were coming to her in the last few hours.

There was no time to lose, the hands of the clock were moving fast, and finally the doorbell rang. Helen ran to the door and there he was, her handsome husband. Charles was six feet tall, had a wide jaw and short hair, almost everything about his appearance made him look like a soldier of some special force and it had almost become a game by now to keep people guessing about his real job. At the sight of his thick beard, strong arms and those Superman-like pecs, many had even said he was a lumberjack but hey, this isn't Canada, right? Certainly no one had ever guessed that he was an entrepreneur or mentioned even accidentally the shipyards.

- Hey honey, I couldn't wait to see you again - Charles said hugging her tightly and kissing her before she could respond that it was the same to her.

Husband and wife spent the next half hour telling each other the latest updates on work, their friends and relatives, even the insufferable ones. Eventually Helen decided it was time to disclose to Charles that she had rented the depandance.

- And didn't you think you should hear my opinion on the matter too? - the man replied unnerved.

- I thought that was all you wanted, do you remember how did you insist that we have to rent it? - Helen replied not at all happy with the way things were going, if Charles wanted an argument, better immediately say so.

- You know what, forget it. How is this woman? Can we trust her... I mean, do you think she's someone who will pay regularly... -

- Esmee is an exceptional woman, you will see for yourself during dinner. She has just let me know that she is very pleased to accept my invitation -

The next hour seemed to fly by and just as Helen was heading to the front door to get the take-out food, already paid for online, she heard a knock at the back door.

- Charles, could you...? -

After wasting a few minutes due to a minor inconvenience, the delivery boy could not find the receipt for the payment already made, Helen returned inside the house holding their delicious dinner. The girl found her husband and Esmee talking in the living room, both sipping what looked like tequila.

- Maybe it's a little early for that, guys - Helen said as she observed how her husband and the woman got along so much.

The two of them were so busy talking about politics that Helen ended up isolating herself for a few minutes; she had never understood anything about those things and it was best not to intrude so as not to make a fool of herself. Helen then noticed that Esmee was showing Charles her necklace, indeed that pendant was magnificent and it was a shame not to show it to everyone. Helen's eyes were once again ensnared by that mysterious object, and soon a voice, which for some reason seemed very familiar, made its way into her mind.

"Never interrupt a gipsy woman when she is with a man, a gipsy woman is to be served when she is with a man, not disturbed."

- Served? - Helen said in a hushed voice but no one in the room seemed to hear her words.

Charles also seemed very fascinated by that pendant and her husband could not look away from Esmee, but his wife was not jealous, it was normal for him to look at such a beautiful woman.

"Gypsy women are beautiful, I am nothing compared to them" Helen thought and in her heart she knew she had never been more right than in that moment.

The young landlady had not forgotten her role, however, she was to serve a gipsy woman while she was with a man and Esmee was with a man at that moment, doesn't she? That did mean that she had to be served, right? But how? Helen noticed that their glasses were empty and approaching her husband and Esmee, who were sitting inches apart on the couch, the girl took the bottle of tequila for a refill.

- No dear Helen, no more tequila for the moment. Why don't you go over there and see that everything is ready for our dinner? -

Helen did as she was told to do and after checking in the kitchen that everything she had ordered online was in the bags, she cut up some cheese to make small appetizers. Then, after about ten minutes, she returned to the living room to set the table. From time to time the young woman could not but watch from a distance as her husband and Esmee seemed like a really close couple, despite the considerable age difference between them. Helen knew better than to disturb a gypsy woman when she was with a man, however, and so she continued her work until it was time for dinner.

Charles helped Esmee sit at the head of the table, which was something he had never done with her, Helen thought, and then he took a seat next to their guest. Helen for some reason instead sat at the opposite end of the long table, as far away from the couple as possible. The girl, however, did not question her strange behavior nor did she do anything about it as the two evidently flirted in front of her without any form of embarrassment.

- Helen dear, the wine please -

Even though the bottle of wine was only inches away from Esmee, Helen could only stand up and, reaching the opposite end of the table, pour the wine for the woman and for her husband, as if she were a kind of waitress. Soon the girl's role during dinner became just that, and she had practically no time to eat anything.

"I dropped my fork, can you get a clean one, dear? Will you pass me the salt, dear Helen? Would you be so kind as to cut my steak, dear?"

Those were just some of the orders Helen had to run to obey, but not for a second did she think of stopping, protesting, and pulling her dear husband away from that old hag who was flirting with him. If dinner had been hell, what happened next was even worse. After playing with her necklace once more, Esmee again approached the couch after Charles had already sat down, and the woman, without fearing her landlady's reaction, sat down on top of that charming man's legs, holding him in her arms and kissing him passionately. Helen remained motionless, with her mouth open, witnessing that scene while something inside her moved.

"Never disturb a gipsy woman when she is with her man, always serve a gipsy woman when she is with her lover," the voice in her head said and Helen could only listen and obey.

The girl remained watching the two kissing passionately for several minutes, exploring each other's bodies with their hands. As Esmee ecstatically touched her husband's beautiful pecs, and Charles caressed her thighs, Helen felt more and more like a nobody. How could she ever hold a candle to a gypsy woman?

- Helen, my dear, why don't you come over here and give me a nice foot massage? -

This was her chance, she could finally serve a gipsy woman while she was with her man and Helen would not disappoint Esmee. Without wasting any time, the young woman knelt at the woman's feet and after helping her remove her shoes, a pair of black décolleté that she already felt like she had seen somewhere, perhaps in a store window, Helen took Esmee's bare feet in her hands and began her massage while the two lovers continued to shamelessly kiss and touch each other. Esmee's feet were incredibly delicate and their scent was intoxicating and seemed more addictive than nicotine. Helen knew that no one was watching her and she missed no opportunity to smell those fantastic feet, losing herself in their aroma that seemed to unsettle her feeble mind even more. The girl knew where she could find the most intense smell, and she noted with delight that she was right when she slipped her delicate nose between Esmee's toes, which, perhaps through an involuntary spasm, trapped her nose tightly, forcing Helen to stay in that humiliating position, kneeling at the couple's feet, with her face practically stuck to Esmee's right sole as her hands continued to carefully massage the woman's left foot.

After about an hour, something finally happened and after pushing Helen away with a little kick, Esmee said to Charles:

- What do you think, baby, if we move to the bedroom? You, come with us, it's time to see how a gypsy woman fucks - Then getting up, the woman took Charles by the hand and after indicating to Helen to bring upstairs her shoes that were still on the floor, the two walked away without looking back.

The bedroom was large and the mattress on the large king size bed was the most comfortable mattress for sale on the market. The two lovers quickly undressed and were already on the bed before Helen could even realize what was happening. Then something seemed to glow in the dark for an instant.

"Kneel in that corner and see what a real gypsy woman can do"

Was that Esmee's voice she heard in her head or was she imagining it all? Helen did not understand but knew that she had to obey, that she could not rebel. Kneeling where she was instructed, the girl stood still and watched her husband thrust his long, fat penis into the vagina of that perfect woman, who did not look twenty years older than Helen at that moment. The two began an endless sensual dance, sweet but violent and fierce at the same time. Soon Esmee pushed Charles backward and jumping on top of him, she began riding him wildly and making noises that Helen feared could be heard three blocks away. The girl carefully watched her husband's face, apparently shocked by unstoppable waves of pleasure, and she could only wonder if he had ever experienced anything like that with her. Helen dreaded to know the answer to that question, which in the last few hours was always the same

"Because gypsy women are the best and you are just a nobody."

As those words continued to dig deep into her soul, Esmee continued her unstoppable ride as Charles' hands played with her nipples, arousing even more the woman who seemed to have flames in her eyes.

"Look, look bitch."

Helen gripped her head in her hands, that voice that had long since crept into her brain now sounded like a radio with the volume turned up to maximum. The voice did not say where to look but Helen knew it, as she knew she had to get closer, she felt an invisible force pull an equally invisible chain tight around her neck. Helen crawled toward the couple at the side of the bed and wearily laid her head on it as she watched now from a few inches away as her husband's cock penetrated Esmee, a relentless movement that seemed a death sentence for their relationship, never again would he be able to look at her in the same way, not after she had been with such a superior woman who could finally give him the pleasure he deserved. Helen remained motionless in that position for minutes, even as the couple had an overwhelming orgasm at the same time. The girl saw her husband's semen dripping down Esmee's vagina and legs before settling on the sheets, and Helen could only wonder if the woman would become pregnant, having used no protection, and something in her told her that Esmee certainly was not using birth control pills.

- You have done well, dear Helen. Now you can have your reward- Esmee said suddenly, lying down on the bed next to Charles who seemed to have fallen immediately into a deep sleep due to exhaustion.

The young architect knew what she had to do, and slowly climbing onto the bed, she stuck out her tongue and began to greedily lick the inside of the incredible woman's thighs. Helen knew well the taste of her husband's cum but this time it was different, it was definitely better. Was it all because of Esmee? Could what she had done, the pleasure she had given him, have altered his semen? That question would probably never be answered but it was not important, she was supposed to lick and not think. And Helen licked, for so much of that time that minutes became hours, hours became days and everything became chaotic, as the stars swirled like that pendant that seemed to have a life of its own.

Epilogue:

Helen awoke in her bed, feeling cold and yet sweaty. For a moment she thought she had the flu but she didn't really care. She looked around and noticed that she was alone, there was no sign of other people in the room. Then why did she have that strange feeling? Why did she think she had fallen asleep together with someone?

"But what am I thinking, who else was supposed to be in bed with me? Charles is still in France after all"

Helen checked the calendar on her smartphone to make sure.

"December 20"

Yes, she was definitely right, still several days away from Christmas and the return of her great love. But the clock was ticking and she was still way behind on Christmas presents.

"I really need shopping, a lot of shopping," Helen thought with a smile as she got out of bed and ran to get ready, anxious to put on for the first time that wonderful Versace coat she had bought twenty days earlier.

When the woman finally arrived at the festively lit downtown, Helen had a strange dejavu. Why did everything suddenly seem so familiar to her, all seen before? That was probably just an effect of Christmas, a happiness that always comes back, no one knows for what reason, once a year, everything always the same. Except that new desire burning inside her, the desire to make a gypsy woman happy.

The End