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Let's see now; where was I before my little interruption? Oh, I had just told you about the second real whipping. Although the observers were just that of the staff it was in the category of a public spectacle. In essence, my body had no secrets from anyone in the house and I had provided direct sexual satisfaction to two of them; my host and the chauffeur. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop, I knew they were not going to be the last. Of course, I had no idea when.
I was alone in the library when I got the first of these little surprises. My solitude gave me the first hint of an impending spanking since I assumed he was preparing The Room for me. I was wrong but not entirely.
The entrance of the butler asking me to accompany him was unusual but not alarming nor was the fact that we were obviously heading to the special room. Once inside I kicked off my shoes and headed for the chair which was in its usual place. I hadn't noticed that the butler had not departed until he spoke. "Excuse me Miss. Would you mind removing your clothes?"
Such a nice and polite request that I would've questioned anywhere else but not in that room. I immediately commenced unfastening, unbuttoning, and unzipping but showed a little confusion. As he hung his suit jacket on the rack he explained, "He has asked me to see to your needs and given leave to do so in my own style. I understand that he has you remain clothed except for the area of focus but my preference is for you to be nude. Please continue while I get settled."
We passed each other; me to the clothes rack and him to the chair. I expected him to be watching my impromptu striptease but he seemed to be purposely averting his eyes like a gentleman in the awkward situation of being in the same room as a woman disrobing. That being accomplished, I stood by his side and for some reason I felt the need to say, "I'm ready."
Only then did he peruse my nakedness from head to toe and a barely noticeable nod showed his approval of what he saw. The small table next to him was covered by a small towel which he picked up and draped across his lap. I almost smiled; he must have known about my physical response to this form of punishment and was more fastidious about my leaking onto his pants. What wiped any thought of smiling from me was what the towel had hidden. Unlike the chauffeur who only used his hand it was apparent that this man was authorized and prepared to use the flexible paddle. He gave the traditional pat of his knee as my signal.
As I moved and was adjusted into the proper position he said, "I won't punish you as severely as when I have to correct the cook but I was told to give you a hard spanking. I hope you understand and will not hold it against me."
His formal way of speaking caused me to answer likewise. "I understand that you have to do as he requested and will not think ill of you for it."
He replied, "Thank you Miss. Now, if you would be so kind; please pass me the paddle."
It was well within his reach and he could've gotten it himself but I correctly assumed this was another part of his "style". Having to present the implement that was about to deliver great pain was an acknowledgement of his authority to use it.
Once again he politely thanked me and after another slight adjustment of my position he struck. There were no gentle pats and caresses as a preliminary or, for that matter, taking the time to judge the resilience of the target with his hand. He was a man of business and wasted no time on such niceties; it was the paddle right from the start. He showed his understanding of my "needs" and his employer's instructions for a very long time and I was in tears for most of it.
He expressed surprise when he put the paddle down and reached between my legs. "That's odd; I was told that you would find this arousing."
In fact I was as dry as ever. That sometimes happened when I was being righteously punished but that was not the case right then. Truth be told; I found nothing remotely sexy about this uptight creature. He continued, "I was warned that it might not happen right away but all is not lost. We have plenty of time and there may be another way to get you into the proper spirit for your reward. Please get down on the floor Miss. No, not like that. I do enjoy a woman's mouth on me from time to time but that's not what I have in mind. I want you on all fours facing away from me. That's better. Now crawl to the wall. Good but go a little slower and keep your bottom raised higher. Wriggle it a bit as if you're trying to entice me. Legs wider and show me what you're offering. Lovely; now turn around and lean back on your haunches. Yes, I can see that it hurts but it's just for a little while."
I interrupt him to point out that his "style" did not limit the paddle to my bottom; my thighs had not been neglected. Therefore, resting on my haunches did, indeed, hurt a lot. Now back to his cute but actually somewhat effective method of turning me on.
"Open you're knees more. Good. Play with your breasts. Pinch your nipples and pull them a bit. Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Put your hands on the floor behind you and raise your body. Feet a bit wider and arch your back more please. Now stay like that and come here."
To say that this position was uncomfortable and difficult to hold while moving is an understatement. Add to it that it exposed my most intimate parts more than any other position he had me assume. However, if the purpose was to humiliate me into a state of exceptional arousal, it was successful. By the time I finally got to him I was more than ready to feel his inappropriate but very much desired touch. I moaned as his finger stroked me and even pushed myself higher as it slid in. He kept me at that level for only a few minutes before stopping. "I think we're just about there. Stay where you are while I prepare myself. On second thought; lie flat on the floor and pull your legs above your head. Wider please. Oh, quite nice. Keep your legs like that and touch yourself down there. Keep it nice and warm for me."
As I masturbated he went to the clothes rack, took off his shoes and neatly placed them together. Then his pants and shorts came off and were hung properly before he approached me. I was almost tempted to laugh. He was quite a sight; black socks pulled high on his calves, white shirt rolled above his waist and black tie tucked between the buttons. As he got closer he said, "Tell me what you want Miss."
Comical though he was, he was an adequately endowed male obviously ready for action and I was horny. I said, "I want you to use me."
He smiled, "Try again please. What do you want?"
This time I lustily panted, "Please Sir, take your pleasure in me."
He shook his head. "No, no. This is not the time for polite euphemisms. Say what you really mean."
I got the picture and used the common term for our impending activity. He was on his knees and moving in for the kill when he called me the most obscene term for a female that reduced me to a single portion of my body. I've mentioned that my host and I have engaged in some earthy dialog during a few of our romps but nothing prepared me for the vulgarity that came out of this man's mouth. He vividly described what he was doing and what he thought of me for doing it with him. He was a different man than the one I thought I knew but as far as the activity went; he was good, very good. A bit rough perhaps but I was slammed into and pushed across the floor and enjoying every minute. Believe me, it was a bit unusual but he saw to my "needs" quite satisfactorily.
Needless to say, he made no mention of what had occurred or treated me with the slightest disrespect afterwards.
The next episode in getting up close and personal with the staff was with the gardener and it was not long after I discovered the butler's darker side. Unlike that incident I was not caught completely off-guard. I stress the word completely since what actually happened was not at all what I anticipated. I'll get to that in a minute but I'll tell you this much; his little peccadillo was even odder than the foul mouthed butler and he wasn't the only one with different tastes. And it was another chance for a little role-playing.
As usual we were in the library when my host said I was going to get a spanking. As I said, I was not surprised at the announcement and said, "Yes Sir. I assume it will be with the gardener."
He said, "Yes." but his raised eyebrows required an explanation on my part. "The old guy usually pretty much ignores me but yesterday and even more so today he's been especially salacious. I figured he knew something I didn't and the smirk on his face told me all I needed to know. I'll go to him as you wish but may I ask if it was your idea or did he request it?"
He leaned back in his chair, "A bit of both. I had planned on giving you to him but not quite so soon. He approached me the other day and we had a long talk. Actually, he does not want to spank you but wants to watch someone else do it."
He went on to explain that the old gardener has a history of fascination with the subject that dates back to his youth. The stories about his sister being a frequent visitor to a parental lap were slightly exaggerated but he grew up in a neighborhood where the sounds of chastisement were not uncommon. He discovered a number of places where he could be concealed and observe the activities so hearing a raised voice was all the impetus he needed to scurry to the appropriate hiding place and enjoy the show. This was also a time before spanking became politically incorrect and many a teenager found themselves paying for indiscretions in the tried and true manner of bare-bottomed discipline. No self-respecting household would be complete without a strap or paddle of some sort since hand spankings were reserved for small children only. Of course, his favorites were the girls and he would wait for it to be over before sneaking back into his house to relive the visions of the red bottom and cries of agony echoing in his ears. Then he would masturbate as he imagined the girl submitting to his personal pleasure. In real life, he never got his wish until he moved in here. First the joy of hearing the maid get the wooden spoon from the cook and then the occasional opportunity to "add to her punishment" by having her to himself afterwards. My presence was a godsend and when he watched my whipping and then had his way with the cook it was a dream come true. The only thing that would've been better was to be the one to have me wrapped around him after re-enacting one of his favorite scenes from the old days. And so it was going to be; I was going to be spanked by the maid while he watched and then make myself available to him.
I slowly nodded as I absorbed this news and stood up. "Should I go to the room now?"
He smiled a bit. "No. You need to go downstairs. Not many children had their own bedrooms in his old neighborhood but the years have added to his fantasy. He wanted it to be in your room but I eschewed that idea. There's an extra room or two in the staff quarters and you'll receive your punishment in one of them. The basic scenario is for you to wait for them fully clothed. When they arrive you will strip completely and lie face down on the bed for your strapping. When that is done he will have his fun but the maid will stay to ensure he remains within the bounds I set. He can fondle you and engage in vaginal intercourse only. The maid has made up the bed in the farthest room. Go there and wait."
As I turned he said, "My heavens, I almost forgot. It's not the pretty young woman living here who he thinks about but one of the girls from his old neighborhood. None of them could afford the sort of clothes you're wearing so I had the maid put together a new outfit for you. It's in the box there. Take them out and put them on."
The look on his face told me I wasn't going to change in a private place. As often as he had seen me get undressed it was still embarrassing. Nevertheless, I peeled off my dress, slip and stockings before getting the simple shift and sandals from the box. Apparently, girls of that time didn't wear nice frilly lingerie either so I had to be completely naked before continuing. The foundation was what Mom would call good sturdy drawers and a respectable bra. It seemed a bit silly since I was going to take them off again but that was specifically requested to be part of the show. As I finished dressing he commented, "That's a new look for you and I like it. Keep those things handy. I may feel the need to spank a girl from the old neighborhood myself one of these days. One last thing; I want you to come back here when you're done."
That being the end of his instructions; I went to my fate.
As I got to the staff area they were all chatting with each other in the hall and I had to pass them. They were well aware of what was going to happen and played right along with it. For the first time I can remember they called me by name and not just the honorific Miss. In addition they teased as if I was one their own and made comments about my impending punishment. Things like, "You're in for it now girl." and "You're going to be sorry." and the obvious, "It's a nice night and all the neighborhood is sitting outside. We're going to hear every swat." In keeping with their roles of nosy neighbors one of them even asked, "What's your aunt going to use on you?"
Aha, she was going to be my aunt and not my mother. That made sense in light of what she was going to let the gardener do afterwards; something a mother would not consider. Anyway, I went along with their game and since the girl I was portraying was not unused to discipline I replied, "The old strap." When asked if it was going to be on the bare I tried to be stoic as I imagined her to be. "Of course, is there any other way?"
The chauffeur said, "You've a nice ass and I'll bet it looks even nicer bare. I wish I could be there to see it."
I was properly insulted and chagrinned. "You keep your filthy thoughts to yourself. It's bad enough you're going to hear it. I better get in there before she gets even madder."
Once in the room I took stock of the austere furnishing: small desk and chair, three drawer dresser, and a single bed. My hand wringing and nervousness were not part of any game. The foolishness in the hall was behind me and the fact of the spanking to come was uppermost in my mind. I was alone for only a few minutes before my make-believe aunt arrived with the gardener. I was still in my role and looked shocked. "What's he doing here? Get him out."
Auntie (who was actually three years younger than me) did a good job of establishing her authority. "We'll have no more of that lip young lady. He's the one you insulted and he's going to watch you get what you deserve. Any more complaints and I'll take you out to the porch and the whole neighborhood will see what happens to brats like you. Get your clothes off and get on the bed now before I really lose my temper."
Wow, she was well into her role and I was truly the frightened niece afraid of this woman's wrath. I slipped my dress off and pleaded to leave my underwear on. She added sarcasm to her repertoire. "You think he hasn't seen boobs before? It's not as if you had a pair to be proud of. Get it off so he can have a good laugh."
As the bra fell she turned to our guest. "Cute aren't they? Wait till you see her little bush. Come on brat. Off with them and stand where he can see you."
This was a side of her that was just a shocking as the vulgarity of the butler but very convincing. I was the frightened girl exposing herself to a stranger for the first time in her life and was just as humiliated as if he had never seen me hanging from the rope and dancing under the whip. My hands were slapped away from covering any part of me and if I were actually the girl I was depicting this would be an effective deterrent to future misbehavior. As such it was a momentary relief to be sent to the bed so I could hide my charms from his gaze. By the way, my breasts aren't that small, just not the economy size.
I was directed to cross my arms under my head and admonished to keep them there or else. The exact nature of the threat did not need to be spoken to be taken seriously but it was a challenge to follow those instructions as the strap did its work. The sweet diminutive maid was replaced by a determined woman with a mission. The strap fell relentlessly although it never really just fell; it was pushed and slammed down hard from the very first stroke.
When she got me good and sore she eased up a bit and told me to raise myself up on my knees and open my legs. I admit I was really scared but she whispered, "Don't worry; I'm not going to hit you there."
With that fear removed I spread my knees far apart. The strap continued to make contact but as promised, she studiously avoided my most vulnerable area. She let the sting die to a bearable level and kept it there as she showed her complete understanding of the real purpose of the exercise.
"You should be ashamed of yourself. Bouncing your bottom up and down and wriggling in his face like a complete slut. It's no wonder he's gotten a hard-on."
Her words were accompanied by more swats and then she introduced another use for the leather implement. She was letting it fall between my legs and drawing it up over my vagina. Another swat higher up and then back down. This time the strap was turned sideways so the edge of it parted the folds and rubbed my special spot. She continued, "Just look at the cheap harlot. This is supposed to be punishment and she's acting like a cat in heat. I'm at my wits end with her. Maybe a lesson in consequences is called for. She's doing everything but begging for you so let's see if that's what she really wants. Go ahead, take that thing out and shove it in the little tart."
Apparently, that's all he did; take it out I mean because I felt his pants rubbing my backside as he followed her instructions and shoved it in hard and fast. He had his hands at my waist but was encouraged to move them. My loving aunt said, "Go ahead, grab her tits. Lord knows you're probably the only man in the area who hasn't had his hands on them. They could use a bit of squeezing if they're ever going to grow to a reasonable size. That's it; pull them and pinch her nipples. Oh, she's not liking it and that's the idea. Punish her as she deserves."
Actually, my moans were not meant to discourage him but her continued tirade made the rough intercourse even better. At one point he moved a hand to my rear and I felt something slide into another opening. Almost immediately I heard the strap land solidly but the cry of pain wasn't from my lips. My chaperone hissed, "Get your finger out of there. One more stunt like that and you'll be the one with his butt in the air and feeling everything this strap has to offer."
The errant finger quickly withdrew and he went back to grabbing my breasts (which are quite adequate thank you).
His onslaught was not as rough as the butler's but hard enough to satisfy this woman while it lasted. However, I was short of my goal when he spurted his finish.
There was another sound of the strap landing and a harsh voice saying, "That's enough you old pervert. Get out."
The gardener scrambled to put himself back in his pants and scuttled out the door. I was smiling as I started to rise but was stopped short as the fire in my rear was re-ignited. An evil smile met me as she said, "No you don't slut. We're not done here just yet. Back the way you were."
As I repositioned myself she shucked her clothes and sat at the head of the bed. She pointed to her crotch and said, "Now it's Auntie's turn. Get busy."
She grabbed me by the hair and pulled my face down while simultaneously demonstrating that the tip of the strap could still reach my bottom. I had heard of and read about what she wanted me to do but never had the urge to try it. Now the decision was made for me. As my mouth made contact I tried to tell myself it was no different than taking a man in my mouth but it was something else entirely. Her tight grip, the occasional snap of the strap and her degrading description of me had the required effect. I was in total obedient mode and what had been repulsive at first was turning onto just another way I submitted to outside authority and as always in these situations, my main concern was pleasing my Master or in this case, my Mistress. She helped by command and body language to let me know when I was doing it correctly. Unfortunately that was not always the case and the strap and more tugs of my hair were periodically necessary to reinforce the lesson.
She kept me at my labor until her third orgasm when she finally released me. I looked up to see a big smile as she complimented me. "I assume that was your first time and with a little practice you could be wonderful. Still, for a novice you did a fine job. Care to have me show you what it feels like?"
I was as aroused as ever and although she still held the strap and my bottom was still within reach I answered truthfully. "No but thank you. No offence but while I might not mind a man's mouth down there I'm not ready for that kind of thing from another woman. Thanks anyway. I ought to be heading back to the library now."
She smiled again. "OK, I understand. But if you ever want to try the other side of the street just let me know."
I hurriedly dressed and thankfully, there was no crowd in the hall. Once in the library he put down his book and said, "Tell me about the gardener."
I described everything from the initial conversations with the staff to the older man's hasty exit. Then he smiled. "And how did you like snacking on the maid?"
I stared at him. "You knew about that?"
He laughed, "Of course but I didn't want to spoil the surprise. She asked if she could use you and I agreed. She prefers that to intercourse which is why cook sending her to service the gardener as part of her punishments is such a trial. She has graciously allowed me to sample her in the traditional manner but her real leanings are toward receiving oral ministrations. According to my sources she has the chauffeur trained to satisfy her on a semi-regular basis. The way I hear it she makes him strip and crawl to where she's sitting and only allows him to masturbate after she's been completely sated. She occasionally goes out to the garage where we can't hear them and it wouldn't surprise me to know that he services her while sporting a very sore rear end. In fact, I'm thinking about having them give me a demonstration in our little room. Would you like to be there for it?"
I smiled and playfully replied with another question. "Would his be the only bare bottom in jeopardy?"
He responded with a grin. "Why not make it a party. The maid can give the chauffeur a good tanning, the butler can spank the cook and you'll be over my knee for the paddle. The old gardener can watch to his heart's content and then remind the maid of what her body can offer a man. Sound like fun?"
I answered, "Sound interesting at least but it would not be as bad for the maid as you think. I believe the phrase minuteman applies to that old coot. All I know is that he left me wanting more than he was capable of giving. I gave him my sexiest look as I said, "If you don't mind I'd like to change into my regular clothes."
He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt as he said, "Go right ahead but only as far as getting those things off for now."
The rest of our clothes followed and although it was not entirely necessary to get him ready he allowed me to reacquaint my mouth with male genitalia before straddling him on the hassock for a much needed impalement.
Did we ever get around to the staff party? You'll just have to wait and see. Tee-hee.
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