Spankmanship (continued)


spanking OTKOur story began here.

Sylvia ached; mostly in a good way. She was certainly sore down below and not just where she was usually chaffed after a night of love-making. The small berry between her bottom cheeks positively sizzled. She blushed to think about what Gerald had done to her the night before.

As she moved towards the warm radiant light streaming through her half opened curtains her whole bottom flared with pain and she clutched at her lower curves with a gasp.

I may never sit down again, she thought ruefully and lowered her bottom carefully back onto the bed to test the theory. As it took her weight the pain quota went up threefold and she wriggled saucily into the bed in a fusion of bravado and masochistic pleasure. But then the deep punished muscle ache and the chafed paper sore skin stretched over her hinds combined to overwhelm her and she shot upright with a tight-mouthed groan.

“I must be insane,” she said breathily to the empty room.

After another bout of sex Gerald had risen early to attend to something and she had been too weary to protest. But it was only then that she wondered where Tatiana was. Not that she was overly concerned; this morning the maid wasn’t really needed.

The light touch of her silk robe was about all she could abide touching her bottom just then, so she pulled it on and with careful steps made her way to breakfast.


Tatiana awoke with a sense of confusion and an overwhelming feeling that she had forgotten something. There was an odd taste in her mouth and she worked it she became aware of her bottom pain and it all came flooding back to her.

It had been well past midnight before Mary had released her from the corner and then she had indulged herself into the small hours in her room massaging her behind with lotions and then seeking other relief.

“What time is it,” she croaked bleary-eyed to the alarm clock on her nightstand.

Her fuddled brain told her 7.15 and the Russian girl gave a start. She was late.

Tatiana flew from the bed and all but teleported herself into the shower. The warm running water caressed her naked body and reignited the dormant sting in her bottom. The pleasure was modified only by the realisation that she would be punished for being late, but there was a scant difference between 7.20 or 7.25 so ‘in for a penny’ as the English said. Or was ‘being hanged for sheep’ a better description. The bloody English, the have so many sayings, most of them written by Shakespeare, she didn’t wonder.

It was only as she emerged from her rinse and began to hastily pull on her clothes that the now clear-headed maid saw the real time on the clock. It was now 9.23, not just after seven. The blood drained from her face and she felt a little sick. The cellar could be her new home for weeks to come.


As it happened Mary too had been slow to rise that morning, a crime that would have to be paid for when she next saw the Spankman.

“Drake,” she whispered and her heart picked up a little and she felt butterflies in her tummy.

The night before in bed she had relived her scene with Tatiana only this time it was herself being punished and Drake dishing it out. In her imagination the Spankman had been far less merciful than she had ever been and cruel indignity had been piled upon humiliation as she had suffered for the man.

The back of her hands nudged her sex and she sat-up quickly lest she be again distracted.

If Tatiana had merely been an hour late in rising, she would have entirely escaped sanction, but when Mary finally got downstairs at 8.30 to find no maid it was far beyond the pale.

“You wait my girl, just you wait,” Mary said through gritted teeth, genuinely angry now.

It took too long to make the breakfasts and a cheerful Gerald had embarrassed her by coming to the kitchen to enquire.

“I’m so sorry Sir…” she began, blushing like a school girl.

“Oh never mind, I have to make a few phone calls anyway, serve it in the breakfast room when you are ready,” Gerald grinned.

With this monumental failure of duty to contend with she had had no time to look for Tatiana had redoubled her efforts.

So it was that Mary, Sylvia and a rather flustered Tatiana all arrived in the breakfast room at the same time.

“Just toast I think,” Sylvia yawned.

Mary mumbled her acknowledgement, but her eyes fixed angrily on a very sheepish Tatiana.

“Toast…? Bacon for me,” Gerald said cheerfully, choosing this moment to enter.

The master of the house was completely oblivious to the significant glances exchanged between his housekeeper and the maid as all his attention was on his wife who had delayed sitting down by taking elaborate pains to pour herself some tea. A smile played around his lips as he studied Sylvia who shyly fixed her eyes on her cup.

“Do you really have to go today?” Sylvia asked him.

“I’m afraid so, but I’ll be back soon, very soon,” he reassured her, “If not, perhaps you could come up to London?”

Sylvia’s face broke to a smile and she let her tongue rest on her lower set of teeth as she returned an open-mouthed grin with a vigorous nod.

“Last night…” Sylvia whispered.

He winked in acknowledgement and waited for her to continue, but she only inclined her head again and blushed.

“Are you going to be a good girl while I am away?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“Depends; what are you going to do about it if I am not?” She poked her tongue at him.

Gerald fixed her with a faux stern expression and said, “You’ll get twice what ever Mary gives you; at least.”

Her eyes widened to echo her suddenly dilated pupils, but it was not altogether from fear. Not altogether.


While Sylvia hung on the front door post and forlornly watched her husband drive away, below her in the basement Tatiana’s was just getting uncomfortable.

Mary had fixed her naked in head stocks so that again her bottom was secured and elevated. Beforehand one standard enema with extra soap had been enough to get her attention before a bulbous ‘friend’ from the top of the plug rack had been taken down and inserted gently but firmly where the maid had so recently and so thoroughly cleaned.

“Now you can just relax here while I go and see to some things, I’ll be back later to attend to you further and by then I will have your itinerary for the week worked out.” Mary growled.

“Yes Ma’am,” Tatiana said miserably.

“I already had an interesting week mapped out for you now think double that and a whole month of it,” Mary impressed upon her. “How could you be so… two and a half hours late…? I can’t believe it. You were already in disgrace.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Tatiana’s miserable tone was verging on tears now.

“Feeling sorry for yourself? You think you don’t deserve this?” Mary said incredulously.

“I do Ma’am, I do,” Tatiana wailed, a single tear trickling down her face.

“Sorry are? Believe me; you don’t know what sorry is. Not yet anyway,” Mary scolded

“No Ma’am, I mean yes Ma’am,” Tatiana sniffed.

“I hope you like it down here, these will be your new quarters, just you wait until I am through… ooh, I just can’t believe you,” Mary gaped, she was utterly taken aback.

Then with nothing left to say, the older woman left the Russian girl alone with misery.


Mary had taken to slipping away for a break or a drink in the village whenever she could and sometimes in the hope of bumping into Drake and sometimes by prior arrangement like today.

They had managed to get the corner table in the coffee shop, right between the screen by the door and the dispensing section where extra napkins and spoons could be had. As a consequence they were several meters from the nearest fellow customer and were free to talk.

“You look flushed,” Drake said smoothly as he studied Mary with an amused look over the rim of his cup. “You have either just been spanked or you have been spanking someone,” he opined.

Mary’s subdued colouring broke into a full blush and she hastily looked around to see if anyone had overheard his remark.

“Still so shy, even after all these years,” he laughed warmly, “Such a curious thing.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked away sheepishly.

“If you must know, I had to punish that damn Tatiana again,” Mary sighed.

“Oh you love it,” Drake challenged her with a chuckle.

Mary lifted her eyes and bit her lip.

“I suppose, but… well, sometimes I wonder just who is in charge,” Mary sighed. “I punished her thoroughly only yesterday and I had already planned to make her life uncomfortable in oh so many little embarrassing and difficult ways as a further sanction. Then she goes and earns herself an escalation. It is so hard to keep up with it all… I mean…”

“One can never give an inch can one?” Drake said thoughtfully, his mocking demeanour evaporating. “Tell me do you think she courted your wrath deliberately?”

“Not consciously, no… at least I don’t think so. She has a natural talent for getting into trouble that one and she is genuinely apprehensive about the cellar,” Mary told him.

“I know the type, well I know Tatiana well enough in any case,” he said expansively, “And I agree, she revels in the duplicity of her nature. It is not uncommon. She plays a game with the world; our world, where she walks on the cracks on the pavement as close to incurring a penalty as she can. She strives to get away with it, but in her heart she hopes that she will fail and be caught.”

Mary received his wisdom with a faraway look in her eyes and mused over the familiarity of this concept. The description reminded her of something or… someone. Then seeing her face reflected in the glass of the café she gave a shake and looked at Drake with a smile.

“Knowing how to pace the situation, when to spank a girl and when to escalate…” Drake continued.

Mary started and looked hastily around as he said the word ‘spank’ fearful that someone would have heard. Why was she such a ninny out in the real world, she berated herself.

“…Even knowing who to spank sometimes, well that is Spankmanship,” he shrugged.

Mary suddenly thought of Sylvia and her recent awakening. It had come naturally to them both. Then she remembered her previous night’s fantasy and her desire to be in Tatiana’s place. Be bold, she told herself, feint maiden never won a fair master…

“The funny thing is… if you were master of the house I would trade places with Tatiana in an instant,” Mary admitted.

Drake drew himself and regarded the woman before him with hard eyes for any sign of mockery.

And then deciding that she wasn’t entirely joking he said with a twinkle in his eye, “You think you would enjoy it?”

“No, I know that I wouldn’t, but I would absolutely love hating it,” Mary replied.

Drake regarded her for a long moment, perhaps contemplating such a situation.

“I have a confession to make,” Mary said quietly.

“Oh yes?” Drake asked.

“I was late myself this morning… I failed to have breakfast ready on time and I can’t entirely neglect the responsibility that Tatiana did not attend to Mrs Peters,” Mary swallowed as he spoke.

Drake made a bridge with his fingers and leaned forward.

“Under the circumstances and given our previous conversation, you can expect some harsh treatment from me when I next call in my official capacity,” Drake said in low hard voice. “See you are not so very different from that hapless maid.”

Mary nodded. It was only just and she knew it.

“But if you finish your coffee I’ll take you to my place and you can have something on account,” Drake said smoothly.

“Oh yes Sir,” Mary said girlishly.


Drake had not even removed his jacket, which made it all seem more embarrassing somehow. It was unlike any other punishment she had received from him. Instead of the strictness and formality, there was an inconsequential casual air to the occasion and in place of the usual almost judicial context, there was a sense that he was merely taming an errant girl.

Mary had been denuded below the waist, her knickers discarded, but her shoes and dress remained, the latter merely hauled up as she was drawn firmly across his knee.

“When was the last time you had a hand spanking?” he said in a gravel voice.

There had been no preamble had the whole thing had taken her by surprise so now she could not answer.

“I…” Her mouth hung open as she squirmed like a novice across the man’s firm hard thighs.

“I see I thrill you a little,” he said, his voice a dark chocolate silk in her ear even as one of his lesser fingers brushed her within an inch of her most intimate place.

“I can’t… not really… Tatiana… she’s… she’s waiting,” the protest was half-hearted and the excuse lame.

He punished her for it. His hand struck sharply from close to in a sharp slap that made her hiss.

“What have we just been saying?” he scolded as he spanked her again.

“But…” her next words were lost in a meek squeak as he bottom sizzled with a tang.

There some long mid-level spanks now, nothing near his full weight, but biting with sting nonetheless and wave after wave of them sent her dizzy.

“What will you pay me for this extra tuition?” he breathed.

Mary knew he was not paid, not even by Gerald. All such notions were an elaborate fiction; all part of the spankmanship persona. So for a moment Mary had no idea what he meant. But even that was a lie, she knew.

The spank was slow and hard. Crips sharp volleys in sets of seven or eight before he spoke and continued.

“With some imagination you could buy yourself out of some corner time,” he said archly, as he tried another tack.

At that moment Mary only wanted to be used and abused, but dared hope that he wanted more from her.

“Coffee,” she groaned.

“I have had coffee thanks,” he said in a neutral voice, his irritation expressed with an extra hard spank among many.

“We… meet… for… drinks…” she gasped through the onslaught.

“Yes,” he agreed curling into her body as he spanked-in tighter, feeling himself grow for her.

“Does it…? Do you…? Oh hell, have me anyway,” she surrendered.

To be continued.

11 Responses to “Spankmanship (continued)”

  1. 1 paul1510

    a plenitude of spanked womanhood, what could be better. 😉

  2. 2 Kia

    Ah, so Drake is human after all. 😉 And I’d been wondering when the title would come into play.

    • 3 DJ

      depth comes with breadth I think – I hadn’t realised that this would run when I started. 🙂

  3. 4 saram

    “I would absolutely love hating it.”
    That is the paradox at my own core. I don’t understand it; but I do appreciate seeing it in print.

  4. 6 Pecan nutjob

    I know this is fantasy writing, but still… one thing that bothers me is that Tatiana is in the stocks while Mary is away. This is very unsafe; one should never leave a helpless submissive unattended. When the cellar is in use, is there some member of the staff that checks periodically what’s going on there? Or some emergency button to press?

    • 7 DJ

      Hi Pecan

      This made laugh – you are absolutely right – I even considered putting up a disclaimer warning people but then I figured the readership were all intelligent people and that anyone who had a Tatiana to play with would not be wandering off. 😉

      Also there are other people in the house (probably) and Gerald has fitted the latest auto monitoring service (which only exists in this world) 😉

      But a good a genuine point Thanks Pecan. 🙂

  5. 8 Svetlana

    Leaving her unattended is unsafe, but this fantasy requires so much suspension of disbelief that it does not put me off at all. Then again, maybe she is not completely unattended. Given the amount of time Tatiana seems to spend in the corner or in stocks one would have to wonder how any housework gets done if there were no other maids. The early installments made it clear that there are others. Even if that raises the question why none of them missed and woke Tatiana and why Mary didn’t tell any of them to help her with the breakfast, it makes it easy to imagine one of them checking on Tatiana … and vowing to herself never ever to get up late. Part of the fun of reading such stories is filling in the blanks in one’s own mind.

    Favourite line: “The bloody English, they have so many sayings, most of them written by Shakespeare, she didn’t wonder.” Sometimes I just love the way Tatiana thinks.

    • 9 DJ

      I am glad you get it – quite so – although Pecan does have a very good point.


  6. 10 Pecan nutjob

    Yeah, well. I can accept unlikely things, but I feel uneasy with unsafe things.

    • 11 DJ

      You are quite right and given the greater emphasis on consent in this story it doesn’t ring true does it?

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