Our story began here.

Sylvia could feel the Egyptian cotton rasping against her sore bottom as she hugged into Gerald, but she didn’t care. Even as he turned and scraped the cane tracks on her bottom with a more intimate rod, she squealed in delight.

For a few moments he found the cleft of her bottom and drew his cock down between her divide, teasing first one opening and then the other.

“Are you sure this is what you want,” he breathed as he held himself effortlessly above her; his arms bracketing her where she lay face down on the sheet.

“Don’t tease, you can do what you want,” she groaned.

But even that was a lie; doing what he wanted meant he could tease her all he liked, she vowed.

He felt himself bursting for, so much so that it hurt; a rare occurrence for a man of his age.

“I could happily cane you again,” he told her and his cock twitched.

“Do it,” she gasped, dizzy with the idea.

Although she couldn’t see it, he shook his head. She had had enough for now, he decided. Then he found her usual opening and parted her easily.

“Oh Gerald,” she said breathily.

*

The morning poured into the room and Sylvia worked her mouth. She ached in places that she hadn’t for a while and that was before she attended her thoughts on the openings either end of perineum or the score of tangy lines horizontally throbbing crosswise on her bottom.

It took an effort to get up on all fours and crawl into a position so that she could stand up. Gerald’s full-length mirror stood in the corner framing her naked dishevelled form and she stared back at the stranger captured within it.

“Well good morning,” she said to the woman there.

She turned a little and focussed on her bare bottom in the mirror. Plum-coloured lines curved into view, wrapping around her behind in neat parallels, which apart from where they gathered at the under curves where she sat, were evenly spaced.

“I may never sit down again,” she said with a rueful pout.

It took several minutes of narcissistic viewing before she was sated and even then she decided on the bravado of walking to her won room naked.

She found Tatiana in the hall looking for her.

“Oh… madam, will you… eh… be coming down for breakfast?” Tatiana said tentatively, her accent suddenly becoming thicker, as it usually did when she was surprised or nervous.

“Yes,” Sylvia said boldly, “Just as soon as I get…”

Other than a gesture at her nakedness, she didn’t finish and swept down the hall to her room, conscious that Tatiana would be watching her caned behind.

Sylvia only stopped to brush her teeth and pull on a loose dressing gown, before she re-emerged from her door.

Tatiana had gone, no doubt hastening off to prepare some food and Sylvia had wished that she had asked about the whereabouts of her husband. Not that it mattered, Mary would know.

*

“Where is Gerald this morning?” Sylvia asked as she stood at the table.

She actually felt a little proud that she couldn’t sit down.

“Mr Peters has gone to the Lodge for a morning ride,” Mary supplied as she put down a coffee cup.

“The Lodge?” Sylvia downcast her eyes as she did when she was considering something, “Does he still do that?”

“Most Sunday mornings when he is here,” Mary told her in a somewhat irritated tone.

Sylvia couldn’t blame her. For years, Sylvia had made an art form of going out of her way not know what her husband did, an attitude she suddenly found herself regretting. In one night, could she change that much so soon, she wondered?

“I wish…” Sylvia pursed her lips.

“Do you want me to drive you over there?” Mary asked.

“I don’t… I don’t ride… oh…” Sylvia pulled a face, “But could you?”

“I have one thing to deal with while you get dressed and then we can go as soon as you like,” Mary said tartly.

As the housekeeper spoke she gave Tatiana a side look; a glance that did not escape Sylvia’s notice.

“Oh, there is time,” Sylvia said with a butter-wouldn’t-melt expression, “Why don’t you deal with it while I finish my coffee.”

“Why not,” Mary grinned.

Tatiana rolled up her eyes and gave a heavy sigh.

“Yes you young lady, come here,” Mary said with a crook of her finger.

Tatiana seemed to push out her lower lip before taking a few hesitant steps forward.

“I am only going to give you a sound spanking, but I could always fetch a cane, or would you rather meet me in the cellar?” Mary threatened.

Tatiana’s eyes flew open wide and she scurried to dispel all visible reticence.

“That’s more like it,” Mary said as she took the girl over her knee.

As the housekeeper rolled up the back of the maid’s skirt to expose her bottom, the latter not wearing knickers, Sylvia asked, “What has she done anyway?”

“I caught her peeping at keyholes instead of getting on with her work,” Mary said disapprovingly.

Sylvia blushed as she wondered which keyhole had been of such interest.

“Is a… eh…spanking sufficient a punishment I wonder,” she suggested carefully.

Sylvia was suddenly very curious about what happened in the cellar. She certainly knew that Tatiana was no stranger to a visit there.

“Are you questioning my methods?” Mary looked up with a glare.

“No… I just…” Sylvia blushed and knew that if Gerald was not home this weekend then she would have had perhaps a closer look at the cellar and its operations than she would have liked.

Luckily Mary had already looked away and was addressing herself to Tatiana’s bare bottom.

A small flat hairbrush, produced from somewhere near at hand no doubt, suddenly dashed across the maid’s bottom extracting a squeal.

“No fuss now or I will give you something to cry about,” Mary scolded.

Sylvia felt a surge of excitement and she touched her top lip with her tongue as she watched.

The spanking was delivered in short sharp swats that caused the errant maid to dance across Mary’s lap while she grunted and squeaked. It did not take long for both her bottom to be very red and her breathing to become harsh and laboured, not that Mary let up the pace one jot.

Sylvia shifted a little where she stood and blushed almost as much as Tatiana was as she realised that she had a warm tickle of a feeling that she couldn’t name. If she could it would have expressed an emotion somewhere between envy and longing, and in her mind she pictured being alone in a dining room with the housekeeper and no witnesses.

Tatiana chose that moment to shoot Sylvia a puce-faced glare, which served to underline Sylvia’s own concerns. Then events overtook them both as the spanking took all of the attention and the maid screwed up her face as she emitted a series of pained grunts.

“That will do you for now,” Mary said at last, “After you have cleared the table and done the dishes I had better find you in the corner when I get back from driving Mrs Peters.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Tatiana said ruefully as she rubbed her bottom under her skirt.

“That is, if you still want a lift?” Mary added in a scolding tone to Sylvia.

“Yes… oh yes,” Sylvia gasped as she gobbled down the last of her coffee.

To be continued.