Spankmanship (continued)
Our story began here.
There was no way Mary was going to sit down for a while. But she so mortified was she that that was the least of her worries. She doubted that she would be able to look either Tatiana or Sylvia in the eye for some time to come.
Worst still she had been put on enough restrictions to make a week with the Carmelite’s look like a holiday. She had been forbidden any clothing that covered her bottom for any reason whatsoever. She also had a list of hateful chores as long as her legs.
Her bottom could not have been rawer if she had been dragged across gravel from London and back. And it wasn’t only her outer bottom cheeks that were suffering so. She felt like Edward II at the hands of Mortimer. That morning she had been dressed with the help of a highly amused Tatiana in a tight corset and leather bondage skirt that buckled just above the knees. This had left her bottom prominently bare behind and showed off the eye-wateringly red flesh to good effect. She had been told that she would remain in such attire for all purposes including answering the door and any that took her outside.
Although Tatiana had not been let off scot-free, there had been a quite definite role reversal between them and Sylvia had been put in full-charge of the household.
Tatiana’s punishment was little more than usual chores and another visit from Drake at the weekend, although, she was also required to stand in the corner during working hours whenever she wasn’t actually working.
That was a peach compared to Mary’s punishment. For her the corner was reserved for her leisure time. Until then she had get on her knees and scrub every floor in the house with a toothbrush. She only prayed that Sylvia wouldn’t remember the nail-clippers and the lawn trick.
Not that Sylvia was behind it all. The real puppet master was Drake who had made it abundantly clear that she needed a thorough attitude adjustment on account of her treatment of Tatiana. He whispered in her ear just an outline of his future plans and had even hinted that she may require some thorough retraining off the premises. Her one hope was that he would take her in hand himself.
*
Sylvia had sat with her head spinning as Mary had been put through her paces. Her emotions had been a whirl of thrilling dread and a horrified fascination as she watched and wondered what it would have been like to trade places with the housekeeper.
As much as she tried to convince herself she would have hated such treatment, later she had been beset with thoughts of suffering so at Gerald’s hands. For half the night the bed had seemed far too small as she rolled and clawed at the sheets. Her only respite taken from wandering hands and a fitful sleep, where even there firm-thighed and broad-shouldered men pulled her across their knee and spanked her bottom.
The next morning she had enjoyed overseeing Mary’s submission as Drake had outlined, although she doubted that she could have done it without both Drake’s authority and Tatiana’s cooperation.
It thrilled her that at the back of it all was Gerald, her true lord and master. She giggled at this idea and clapped her book to her face to hide her hot flush like a teenaged girl sniggering at some erotica. The words were a blur anyway and she had read and re-read the same passage half-dozen times.
So instead she decided to go and see how Mary was getting along.
The housekeeper had got as far as the parquet floor between the kitchen and the dining room. She was kneeling on a sheepskin pad with her bottom high in the air and her head shoulders down as she vigorously scrubbed the wooden tiles with a tattered pink toothbrush.
As Sylvia approached she could see that Mary’s obscenely up-thrust bare behind was heavily stained in mottled burgundy with a slightly suggestive sheen. Her bottom, sore to the point of being raw, would not welcome more attention any time soon. Which was rather unfortunate for her as Drake was due to return early that evening to put the woman through her paces again.
“How are you doing there?” Sylvia said with a butter-wouldn’t-melt expression on her face.
“As well as can be expected Ma’am,” Mary said sullenly as she glowered into the floor.
“I do hope you have this little task finished by the time Mr Drake arrives,” Sylvia said innocently, “I would just hate it if he were displeased with you.”
Mary swallowed nervously and seemed to redouble her efforts.
“No Ma’am,” Mary muttered under her breath.
“What was that?”
“I said no Ma’am,” Mary said in a loud crisp voice.
“If you want to mumble I could suggest to Mr Drake that a gag might be instructive?” Sylvia said mischievously.
The once air-headed trophy wife had come a long way down the road of lost innocence and her observation of Tatiana’s treatment and what she had read was proving most instructive.
“That won’t be necessary Ma’am,” Mary said in polite tones that were bordering on sincere.
“I am so glad,” Sylvia smirked.
She took one more long look at the housekeeper’s efforts and then strolled away to see where Tatiana had got to.
The maid was nose to the wall in the corner of the kitchen. The girl had her hands planted neatly on the top of her head with her elbows at right angles. Her skirts had been closely pinned to the small of her back and the enforced posture only served to emphasise the stark bareness of her bottom.
It had to be said that the room was spotless and a quick inspection of the dishwasher revealed it was empty and clean too.
“Did you manage to do the laundry?” Sylvia asked Tatiana’s back.
“Yes Ma’am and the ironing,” the maid answered deferentially.
“Good. Then I want you to go and get the rest of the flowers that Mary was putting in vases and bring them here for me to do,” Sylvia instructed.
It was a fair enough task to set but Sylvia could barely contain her amusement. The maid would have to walk on the freshly scrubbed floor.
*
Drake arrived around five and found Mary and Tatiana facing the wall in the hall with their bare bottoms well displayed.
It was Sylvia who cheerfully let him in and then breezily offered him tea.
“No thank you,” Drake said in an iron voice.
He studied his patron’s wife with an expert eye. Was this really the bored selfish girl he had first met a short while ago.
“Unless you need her, you can release Tatiana for the evening. Mary and I will have a long talk in the library until I am ready to take her to the basement. It will be a long night I fear,” Drake said casually as he glanced around what he could see of the house for any sign of anything amiss.
Sylvia nodded shyly.
“You’re quite angry with her aren’t you?” she ventured.
“I am disappointed but… well if you must know I love her and I hope we can resolve issues with her behaviour sooner rather than later,” Drake said matter-of-factly. “The girl needs to be soundly spanked far more often I think.”
Sylvia blushed at the open admission. It felt suddenly as if she were prying. Behind her at her place at the wall Mary shifted a little. She too was blushing, but far from horrified at his harsh words he had made her day.
“I know how she feels,” Sylvia blurted.
Drake gave her a curious look.
*
Sylvia had decided to get her book and retreat to her room and then phone Gerald. Maybe she would watch some TV before bed and dream of her next meeting with her husband. But as she passed the library she heard Drake’s raised voice and couldn’t resist a quick peek.
Mary was still in her earlier attire but was now draped firmly across Drake’s lap with her bottom pushed up towards him. The man was spanking her hard and fast in short sharp volleys pausing only to scold her and remind her why she was in disgrace.
“You wait until I get you downstairs, we will see how you like it,” he growled.
“Ooh yes Sir,” Mary squeaked in unaccustomed girlish tones.
Then as Sylvia watched Drake resumed another frim round of heavy spanks that set the housekeeper squirming and squealing over his knee.
“The more I think about it, the more I think you need a retraining course,” he said sharply. “What do you think of that?”
Before Mary could reply Drake spanked her hard across her churning red bottom and followed it with three more.
“Please Sir… Sir,” the last word was shrieked.
Drake cupped the woman’s bottom and tested it for its fiery heat before resuming the spanking again with great relish.
It looked very much to Sylvia that Mary was in for a long hard spanking before she got anywhere near the delights of the cellar. Poor girl, she thought insincerely.
To be continued.
Filed under: DJB stories, domestic, M/F, Romance, spanking stories | 3 Comments
Tags: can't sit down, corner time, OTK, public humiliation, spanking, submission
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Spanking, spanking stories and spanking articles for adults
This blog is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented here are intended for adults. Nothing here should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
All characters appearing in short stories on this blog are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This blog aims to explore themes of erotic discipline, female submission and spanking. It features stories, anecdotes and observations by DJB and others.
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Damian,
the only thought that I have is that it is a good thing that both Mary and Tatiana seem to enjoy this treatment, sort of. 😉
Paul.
Mary is one tough cookie. I shudder to think what retraining might entail. . .
We shall see where next 🙂