Spankmanship (continued)


sore bottomOur story began here.

The cellar was mostly dark and somewhere behind her a single drip of water gave out a ping every few moments marking time until Mary returned. Tatiana had been in this position many times before and although sometimes she had been left in virtual darkness, on this occasion she had been afforded a small nightlight. As she the great shadows loomed over her just at the corner of her eye, the maid wondered if the darkness might not have been a blessing.

Set in front of her face was a small mirror that was angled so that Tatiana could see not only her own face staring back at her, but the elevation above it of her bare bottom, thrust upwards and exposed for any and all penalties that Mary Granger decided to impose. It was a familiar position and one that forced Tatiana to contemplate her sins and her fate at one and the same time.

Her head and wrists were locked in a pillory set halfway down two upright posts. Behind her was a high padded bench on which she now knelt so that her knees and breast were almost level and her bottom was placed at the highest point.

Worst of all was the shame and certain knowledge that she utterly deserved all that was about to befall her, a situation impressed upon her by her own visage set blushing and sheepishly not 18 inches in front of nose in the mirror.

Her mother had been a religious woman and given to martyring herself in misery to offset any good fortune that had befallen her and Tatiana often wondered if she had not some of the same inclinations. For as much as she hated her current humiliating and exposed position, part of her revelled in it and her sex throbbed like an unscratchable itch to further torment her. I would be so lost back in Moscow, she thought ruefully; here I am found. The thought did not cheer her overmuch and around she went again in her head, berating herself by turns even as part of her thrilled.


Mary saw no reason to trouble Gerald with Tatiana’s snooping. After all, voyeurism might be considered one of the perks of the job so long as the feckless girl was willing to pay the price if she were caught.

The housekeeper knew that minutes became hours in the oubliette-like basement and 45 minutes in the stocks below would see the maid well-humbled. After all Drake had placed Mary there often enough and she was quite sure the little straightener Tatiana was about to get was a poor relation to some of the sessions the housekeeper had endured at the hands of the Spankman. Mary shuddered in erotic dread at the memory as she strived to supress all adolescent thrills at the thought of Drake as she attended to the matter in hand.

As Mary made her way down the steep stone steps, she switched on some of the more subdued lighting, mostly out of necessity, although she knew the progressive brightening of the ever nearer illumination would play on Tatiana’s nerves announcing as it did the housekeeper’s approach.

Sure enough as Mary drew near she saw Tatiana shift a little at the knees causing her bottom to wag ever so slightly perhaps in the expectation of a gift.

The pillory bar that locked the girl’s hands and head was largely a symbolic discipline as Mary knew that the maid would have stood nose to the wall without restraint if she had been ordered to, as she often had in the past. But the housekeeper had to admit that this way Tatiana’s bottom was presented to excellent and impressive advantage.

“Now my girl,” Mary said in her sternest voice, “What have I told you about peeping at doors?”

Tatiana thought better to reply without leave and gulped violently as if only now truly comprehending her fate.

Mary came close and eyed the exposed girl, possibilities running through her mind. This really was a recurring offence and she was within her rights to take all metaphorical gloves off. And perhaps put some very real rubber ones on, Mary thought in amusement. She kicked an aluminium bucket close to her feet to set the maid’s nerves on edge even more. Tatiana would recall the funnels and lengths of hose well enough without a further reminder.

In the mirror the ghostly face became ashen and the spectre began chewing at her lower lip.

“This could get very interesting for you,” Mary said sharply as she addressed the face set below the exposed and rather fetching bottom. “I am seriously considering leaving you here all night with something intimate to keep you company; after a thrashing of course.”

Tatiana now had enough light to see the other toys on the basement shelves and her eyes darted left to a neat row of anal plugs graduating in sizes up to ones that would tax a horse. Some of the unguents that were used to ease their passage carried quite a bite and could sting a girl well passed dawn. The maid quailed and silently prayed.

“Well haven’t you anything to say?” Mary scolded, knowing she hadn’t given leave for the girl to speak and the chiding was unjust.

“Please Ma’am I… I mean if it pleases you to allow me to say…”

Tatiana’s voice was lost in Novgorod or might as well have been for all the clarity it carried for the words all ran together in a string of buzzing Zs and twangs. But Mary was used to that and cut the girl some slack. After all, the maid’s English was usually near perfect which was more than Mary could say for her own Russian.

“You may speak,” Mary’s voice announced it as an order.

“I’m sorry I listen…”

Mary coughed warningly.

“I look and listen at the door… I just… I’m sorry, there is no excuse Ma’am,” Tatiana gave up on a hopeless position.

“No there isn’t is there?” Mary scolded. “So this is how it is going to be…”

Tatiana craned her neck, first right to where the bucket stood and then left at the row of plugs, and gulped in anticipation.

“…For the rest of this month I am going to work out a quite challenging array of ‘pleasures’ and some really quite embarrassing, not to say uncomfortable, little experiences; more on that you will discover. For now…”

Mary reached over and took a heavy leather strap from a hook off the wall and then dangled it in front of Tatiana’s face. It was a good solid broad taws-like affair with one side left rough and embossed with fine file-like teeth. The only strap that was worse was the one with glass paper coated on the striking surface.

Tatiana regarded the object with horrified fascination with a look normally reserved for courgettes or soggy Brussels sprouts; two regularly served foods that the maid loathed.

Taking up the food theme Mary reached for a jar of pickled Scotch Bonnet and began to siphon off some of the oil they had been steeped in.

“Before we roast, first we baste,” Mary said in amusement as she began to liberally apply the liquid fire.

Tatiana gasped at first contact and squealed, although the initial sensation was the cold. There was some tingling where the oil drizzled onto her most intimate eye and trickled lower, but the Russian girl was still more apprehensive about the strap to take note.

Mary demanded that Tatiana perfectly present her now shiny wet bottom and then waited for the tension to build before laying on the first rasping stroke of leather-delivered fire.

The girl responded with an eye-popping gasp and then shimmied her tail back and forth for Russia.

The tender Slavic skin took the crimson stain at once, the textured striking surface chafing the maid where it would do the most good. The sting-scratch of the leather now reacted with the spiced oil making an unpleasant burn positively flare.

Mary nodded before placing another stinging slap as she set-in to make a determined attempt to spank the bottom dry before applying another coat of Scotch Bonnet paint.

Tatiana began to grunt in ever higher tones until she really became quite shrill. By which time her bottom was glossy and red like a glazed summer strawberry.

The housekeeper only paused to reply some of the unction, again not stinting the girl as she let the oil cascade over her bottom and upper things and all in between. Tatiana’s skin shocked to pebble-like gooseflesh and Tatiana wailed her appreciation; a blessed interlude before another thorough application of the strap.

The leather rose and fell with a vigorous swing echoing of the constricted walls, the heavy splat a counterpoint to Tatiana’s shrieking wails as beat followed beat at a steady rate eight or 10 times a minute. Even so the punishment took some time until eventually even Mary could see that the stoical Russian had had enough.

“Raw is it?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Tatiana squealed between panting.

“I am minded to insert a little company for you and leave you to stew overnight,” Mary told the girl, “But some creative begging on your part might sway me.”

“Anything,” Tatiana gasped in a panic, “Please Ma’am.”

“I have it in mind to read for an hour or two before bed,” Mary continued, “ and it would be such a pity to miss the glow of your punished bottom whilst you languished down here. What would you say to a long stint in the corner with a bottom untroubled by massaging hands while I settle down with a book?”

“Oh yes Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” Tatiana gushed, her gratitude genuine. “It is more than I deserve.”

“Indeed it is,” Mary agreed, “But if I catch you again it will be a dose of the glass-paper strop as a prelude to the cane and a night’s contemplation with a very large friend.”

Tatiana needed no telling as to the nature of that friend and shuddered.

“Yes ma’am,” she said.

To be continued.

9 Responses to “Spankmanship (continued)”

  1. 1 paul1510

    you do have a wicked imagination, however an excellent read. 😀

  2. 2 Kia

    Yet again, you’ve somehow created a scene worthy of all the buildup, describing a scary-harsh punishment that still seems loving. It must be magic. 🙂

  3. 3 Scarlet

    Mary does have a heart after all –sort of!

  4. 4 DJ

    Kia Paul I was worried that the cellar would be an anticlimax so hopefully you speak for most. 🙂

    Scarlet – yes she is all heart 😉

  5. 5 Mark

    “worried that the cellar would be an anticlimax”

    I understand that concern. The opposite was also a concern. You found a good middle ground here.

  6. 6 Pervy

    We have now learned that the poor little thing has her rear hole punished sometimes, but how about the front? I’m sure a little ginger does wonders there.

    • 7 DJ

      Your comment is more explicit than the story you comment on. Alluded to for adults is different from say… being crude. I hope.

  7. 8 Svetlana

    I’ll miss having to guess what happens in the basement, but this was well within the range of expectations. A really harsh punishment, spiced up by Scotch Bonnet, restraints and plugs … this was advertised as a BDSM nut house, after all. At any rate, it’s not hard to imagine that even a spanko like Tatiana really dreads the cellar … and that’s saying something.

    Tatiana seemed like setup-girl at the start, so I’m pleasantly surprised that she gets this much development. Her glamorous background makes it hard to identify with her, but I like her a lot, right down to her unease at finding herself in a regime that she cannot hope or reasonably expect to last forever … and right down to her dislike of soggy Brussels sprouts.

    The oubliette atmosphere is delightful. It helps a lot that the story dwells for a bit on the wait for punishment (which sometimes gets glossed over in spanking fiction).

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