Thus ended my brief period of slavery although not entirely. The various forms of spanking continued and I was the meek young person accepting his authority to punish me but on at least one occasion he demanded more than just for me to get over his lap. On that evening I could only see him as my Master again.

You might be curious as to how I made the switch and returned to my previous motivations. I was wondering how to do that also. It was almost comforting to consider myself as his slave but he was right, a relationship like that implies full time servitude and neither one of us were prepared for that. The opportunity to revert back to our regular roles came at my next spanking.

I was working in my room when he came in, sat on my bed and said, "Take your sweatpants off and bring me the hairbrush."

I had been having trouble with the book and was already a bit grumpy. This was the last thing I needed right then and I spoke rather sharply. "No goddamn way. I've got work to do and besides, this is my room. I know you own the whole damn house but this is my space and I'd prefer it if you knocked before barging in. If you must know, it was right here and with that hairbrush that I convinced myself that I was nothing more than your slave. Well, Mister "I Don't Want You to Call me Master", you yourself said you didn't want me to act like your property and I'm not going to let you treat me like that. Just get the hell out of here and don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way."

Um, that's the condensed G rated version. What I actually said was much more colorful and included a few words that would have gotten my mouth washed out if I were at home. But I wanted to let him know just how mad I was. As you'll see, it was a big mistake.

He sat quietly and nodded for a moment. He said, "I am sorry. This is your room and I should have respected your privacy. Please forgive the intrusion."

An apology was the last thing I expected and it sort of took the wind out of my sails. I said, "There's nothing to forgive. I should have told you how I feel about this area before."

He walked to the door and turned towards me again. "I understand your feelings but I should tell you about two things that truly disturb me. First is your use of profanity. During our post-spanking activities your use some fairly strong language but under those circumstances it is not inappropriate. However, outside of The Room I find it extremely distasteful. Even more disturbing is the way you just talked to me. While I do not necessarily expect you to always agree with me, I do require you to treat me with respect."

As he got to the door he stopped and said, "I am going to punish you for both of those things. Get your hairbrush. I'll be waiting for you in The Room."

He left the room and I stood there for a moment. The old feelings swept over me. I had been terribly rude and was going to be punished. It was not my master who ordered it but the man who had the authority to correct my faults. I grabbed the brush and ran down the halls. I passed him at one point but it was important that I get there first. I quickly kicked of my sneakers, moved the chair and table from the wall to their normal spots and put the hairbrush where he could reach it. My sweatpants had just fallen to my ankles when he arrived.

There was no lingering look at my bottom in panties as he immediately sat down. He yanked my panties down and pulled me over his lap. That was the first sign that this wasn't going to be our normal routine. Needless to say, there was no gentle caressing either. His hand went right to work and he was using his full force from the very start. Part of me knew he wasn't enjoying it either and that solidified my self-image. I wasn't doing this to please him. I needed to be spanked and he was making sure I got one to remember.

His hand stopped but just long enough to get the hairbrush. My lesson in respecting my elders continued until I was too hoarse to make intelligible words and my body was wracked with sobs.

The 'festivities' were ignored as he put me on my feet. As he got to the door he said, "I've half a mind to make you stand in the corner but that's for children and not foul mouthed women. However, you will leave your clothes as they are and sit in that chair until I send someone to tell you that you can return to your room. Dinner will be at the usual time and I expect you to be dressed properly."

He left and I sat down. I really wanted to jump up again and told myself he'd never know but I was being punished and obedience was the order of the day. I grimaced as I put my weight on my bottom Then I cried. At first it was because of the pain and then because I had been impolite to my generous host and then because he spanked me. Not tears of shame, although there was a goodly amount of that, but because I needed this punishment and he cared enough to see that I got what I deserved.

I still had my watch on so I know it was slightly more than one hour later when the door opened. Instead of one of the servants as I expected it was him. He took one look at me and laughed. "Good heavens woman, you are a mess. I left the brush here and thought you would at least do something with your hair."

He let me get off the chair and he used the brush for its primary purpose. Then he assisted me in getting my clothes in order and even knelt down to put my sneakers on. Then he asked if my bottom still hurt. I admitted that it still stung a bit and he laughed again. "I should think so."

He pointed to the door and said, "You go and get a little rest before dinner. I'll put the chair back. Oh, and I'd rather you didn't squirm during the meal so stop by the kitchen and get some of that lotion the cook has been giving you."

This was a little like the punishments I got at home. Horrible to endure but after the time for reflection everything was back to normal.

When I got to the kitchen the cook was not alone. The gardener was there. He said, "Afternoon Miss. Sounds like you really got it. One of us should've warned you. He don't take no disrespect from anyone. Hell, I mean heck, he fired the last fellow who had my job because of that. What did he use on you? Oh I see; the old hairbrush treatment. My old man preferred a belt on me but Mum used one of those things on my sister. Lord, that girl could bellow. Course, you might even give her a run for her money on that score."

I don't know if he was going to go on but luckily the cook came out of the pantry and had a small jar of what I came for. "Here you go Dear. He asked me to have some ready for you. Don't pay any attention to this old coot. He loves to talk about how his sister got her spankings. I think most of it is pure hogwash. I've met her and she's as grumpy and crass as he is. If she had gotten her bottom warmed as much as he says you'd think she would've turned out better."

I thanked her for the lotion and was glad to have one supporter on the staff until she added one more little item. "Let's see the damage Sweetie."

She had said that very thing the time I brought the wooden spoon back to her. At the time I was still feeling like a naughty child who had been justly punished and meekly presented my bare bottom to her gaze. I would have complied immediately if it was just her but the gardener's presence changed things. I said, "Please Ma'am. Not with him here."

She scrunched her lips. "Oh posh girl. It's not like he's never seen a freshly spanked bottom and we have his Lordship's permission. When he came to have me prepare the lotion he said it was OK for us to have a look. So turn around and drop your drawers so we can see if it was worth all the fuss."

I figured refusal would be considered disobedience so I turned and slid my sweatpants and panties down just enough to show them what they wanted. However, I kept my legs together tightly so the result of the spanking was all the gardener was going to see. After a moment the two of them agreed that my rear end had, indeed, gotten a long and hard spanking. Apparently, my host had also explained the reason for my punishment and the cook said, "Yes, a very good spanking and a well deserved one at that. You should know better that to talk to him like that. You should consider yourself lucky that he only spanked you and didn't wash your mouth out with soap. You better get going before I decide to tell him about your reluctance to show us your bottom."

So far, the butler had seen me in my underwear, the maid had watched me get spanked in the nude, the cook (who I had thought of as an ally) had seen my bare bottom twice and now the gardener got to have a good look at it. The only one left was the chauffeur. He was going to get his chance soon enough and my encounter with him was the worst. I'll get to that in a minute.

After that session to readjust my attitude I was back to the honored guest who engaged in witty conversation with my generous host. And the next time he sent me to The Room I returned to the woman afraid of the spanking to come but unable to challenge his decree. And if you must know, the sex afterwards was pretty good although it was only with his fingers.

I could never tell which night he would choose but I would get a hint. If he did not escort me to the library for our evening chat I assumed he was preparing The Room for us. When he finally joined me I would be on pins and needles until he sent me to wait with my dress raised.

The only iota of bravery on my part was to ask him if he was going to use the paddle or the strap. He always said I would find out soon enough and refused to answer. But that didn't keep me from asking. On this one night he had been late coming to the library and as I expected, he eventually gave me the order I feared. Quite simply he said, "You're going to get a spanking tonight. Go to The Room."

I didn't catch the slight difference in his terminology at first. Usually he said something like "I'm going to spank you" and not "You're going to get spanked." That was a clue I definitely overlooked. But it became quite clear when I asked my stupid question of which implement was going to grace my bottom with its presence. This time he answered and it was not one I wanted to hear. He started with, "None of them. It will be a hand spanking only . . ."

In the split second before he finished his sentence I had the fleeting thought that I should be grateful but his hand was an impressive implement in its own right and the end result was probably not going to be much different. As I said, this thought only took a fraction of a second and what he said next caused my knees to weaken so I could hardly stand. The rest of his sentence was in the same calm but stern voice. ". . . but it will not be my hand."

I caught my breath and was about to speak when he cut me short. "No more questions. Do what you're told."

I scurried out of there and was more nervous than I had been on any of these little trips. It seemed longer than usual that I stood by the chair and waited with my back to the door and panties on display. When I heard the door open I drew myself up straight. Whoever was with him was not going to see me slouching in self-pity. I immediately recognized the chauffeur's voice. "The old gardener didn't do that bottom the justice it deserves. He said it was nice but I had no idea that was under those loose dresses. You sure you want me to spank her?"

My host and disciplinarian answered, "Yes. She needs to learn something and tonight's her first lesson. Sit down and take her over your lap."

The younger man followed instructions and almost immediately gave me a really hard swat. He was admonished. "No, not like that. She's being punished but that's no reason you can't enjoy yourself in the process. Spend a little time getting to know the feel of your target. Notice how it is both soft and firm. That's it. Run your hand over it. No, not there just yet. You'll have your chance later. Concentrate on where you're going to spank her. Not in only one spot but all over her rear end. That's good. Notice the delightful way she quivers. She knows she's going to get spanked. She's scared and she should be; you're showing her that you intend to do a good job. Excellent, she hates being spanked there and it raises her trepidation. The only thing is that you should wait before including that area. Stay within the confines of her panties for now. When she's ready for the next phase her bottom will be bare. Then you can expand the territory to include her thighs. Now give her a few soft swats but not too many. We don't want her to get too comfortable before you start slapping harder. Build up the force until she feels like she's going to bounce off your lap. You're on your own. I'm just going to watch until it's time to take her panties down."

His touch and his mentor's words were having the desired effect. I was quivering in fear and the very few soft swats he gave me did nothing to get me too comfortable. Then he slapped down hard three times before reducing the force. I heard him get a compliment. "Excellent, remind her what's to come. I commend you."

Gee, I'm glad someone approved, I sure didn't. He did the three hard ones and then less force a few more times until there was no difference between the two. That's when I stopped trying to compare them. I was getting a good spanking and that's all I was aware of. My tears were flowing freely when he stopped. I only caught a few words but the ones I heard were enough. Things like take her panties down and feel the gusset followed by surprise and confirmation that I was wet without actually touching me. You can guess how that made me feel and the brute let me enjoy my humiliation for a full minute before beginning again. My bottom was on fire and he added my thighs to the mix so I was sobbing and screeching when he finally stopped. He must have had some sort of sign from our host because he went right to the spot he wasn't allowed to touch earlier. I begged him not to and he laughed. What he found was telling him my words were not indicative of my true feelings.

He lacked the subtlety of the older man but even so, his rough manipulation was bringing out the wanton sex-starved woman who wanted more. He stopped at my first orgasm and slid me off his lap. He walked to his employer and said, "Thank you Sir. That was very enjoyable and I hope the young lady has learned whatever it was you wanted her to learn."

After he left my normal spanker said, "And what did you learn?"

I knew and had already mentally acknowledged it in the library by not balking at his order. I said, "I've learned that if you say I am to be punished there is no need for discussion. The important thing is that I am going to get spanked. In the past you have had the authority to decide when I should be spanked, how I should be spanked, what implement you're going to use and even the location. What I learned tonight is that you also have the authority to decide who is going to spank me. As I said, the only important thing is that I'm going to get spanked. All other choices are entirely yours."

He smiled. "Correct. Suppose I sent you to him instead of coming here. Would you have gone?"

I had to think about that one. At last I said, "Yes but I would have been nervous to be alone with him. If I have any say in the matter, you can let someone else spank me but please do not leave me alone."

He nodded, "That's fair. But it won't happen very often. It was interesting to watch but I'd prefer to be the one doing it."

I decided to give him a gift of sorts. I said, "Sir, when I listed the things that were covered by your authority I forgot one."

He cocked his head to one side. "And what would that be?"

"The number of people who would spank me. If you decided one wasn't sufficient you could send me to another for more punishment. For example, when you bring me here my punishment is not over until we leave. If you choose to add to his spanking I have no grounds for questioning it."

He smiled. "You also forgot that I decide what you might or might not wear."

I looked down so he couldn't see the slight grin. "I'm sorry Sir. I should have mentioned that."

He moved to the chair and said, "We shall correct that. Hang your clothes on the rack by the door and then come back here."

If he wanted me nude maybe he was going to take advantage of it during the festivities. In fact, you've probably already guessed but that was the main reason for this little charade. The chauffeur left me wanting more and if it took a little spanking to get it, I was willing to pay the price. It was only when I was naked and heading back towards him that I saw the fault in my logic. He didn't believe in little spankings. The price to pay for sexual satisfaction may turn out to be higher than I thought but there was no turning back.

He spent a long time stroking and rubbing my bottom with only a few slaps. Then he started to hit harder but nowhere near what I expected. There were no really hard swats but since my rear had gotten such a lengthy prelude from the chauffeur he didn't have to use his whole strength to get me stinging and very uncomfortable. What surprised me was that he stopped long before the point where I would cry out. Instead he went back to rubbing and said, "Nice color but it needs a few more. Did you say I could decide where and how to spank you?"

I said "Yes" and he responded, "Good. I think a new position and locale are in order. Get up."

The position wasn't exactly new. He threw me over his shoulder like he did after the time in the library and he gave me the extra swats he spoke of as he carried me to my room. At the door he stopped and knocked on the door. "Hmm, no one home. I'll try again."

This time a voice at his back answered, "Come in." and he said, "I intend to."

What followed lasted a long time. During it I discovered that his pompous attitude towards earthy language was not absolute. He matched me word for word as we gave the mattress (and other pieces of furniture) a good workout. OK, so it wasn't romantic pillow talk but it was nice to know he shared my enthusiasm for energetic, raucous and completely uninhibited sex. For the second time since coming to this house, I woke the next morning with a big smile. My ploy in The Room paid off handsomely.

Continue to chapter 6 of The Budding Author

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