Tuesday, July 5, 2016

From the Top Shelf - Interruptions

Welcome back to Hope Hall, the secluded country estate where spanking is very much a way of life. Cousin Jamie is in the middle of  correcting one of the maids, but he just can't seem to get on with the job. This is part of the ongoing series of selections from Hall of Infamy by Amanita Virosa.
"Stand still now, Betsy. You know you'll just get extras if you flinch, you silly girl!"

Perspiring as much from fear as from the heat of the day, Betsy tried to keep steady. She stood in the centre of the nursery parlour in nothing but her corset and the new black silk stockings. She was trembling as she waited for her master to bring down the tawse again. Betsy closed her eyes and silently prayed.

There was a decided clink and an anxious sob from the side. Betsy opened her eyes to find her master's amused gaze upon her. He gave her a wink.

"Don't go away," Jamie said.

Betsy hated the tawse; worse, in fact than almost anything else. She gave a sigh of relief, grateful for the respite, however brief.

The cousins also wore nothing but their usual uniform of white silk smocks and stockings. Both had been divested of their frilly knickers. Both had their hands pinioned behind their backs, in the now familiar fashion. Both had been silently straining to achieve the task that Jamie had previously ordained.

When, a little earlier, the young man had sentenced Betsy to the tawse, he had also announced that the cousins would not be allowed to watch the disciplining of the nursery-maid. In order to prevent peeking, he had made use of a simple but effective expedient. Producing two golden guineas, Jamie had held one against the wall, level with Amelia's eyes. The girl had then been made to stand on tiptoe, with feet wide apart, and hold the coin against the wall by pressing it with her nose, something she could only achieve by straining visibly. Clara had then been made to follow suit.

"Good girls, that's it. Drop the coins and I'll stripe those pretty bottoms!" Jamie had growled, giving Amelia's bare bottom a friendly pat. He had then instructed Betsy to place silver platters on the floor between the cousins' straining legs. The sight of the two girls, bare bottoms twitching in anticipation, calf and thigh muscles taut and trembling with the effort was something Betsy only wished she had the leisure to enjoy. Whether Clara's shapely slenderness or Amelia's more generous curves and long legs were the more appealing, she would have been hard put to choose. However, Betsy's own travails were too pressing for her to gain any real enjoyment from the cousins' plight. At least so she had thought before she heard that sharp metallic clink.

Furtively she looked at the platter between Clara's legs. There was nothing there, and the blonde girl was still obviously straining. However from Amelia's silver tray came an accusatory gleam of gold.

"Pick it up!" Jamie ordered, firmly.

"I-but-" Amelia turned, looked at Jamie, then at the tray and the coin upon it, and briefly up at the tawse swinging in his hand. Betsy watched her lick her full lips. Now Amelia had turned, the shapely contours of her breasts could clearly be discerned through the thin silk of her smock. Betsy swallowed, wishing she had a pair of nipple clamps with which to worry the teats which pushed so impudently against the fabric. That, and an hour to play with the haughty Miss Amelia on her own. Well, she thought wryly, even a humble nursery maid can dream.

The object of her reverie swallowed nervously and got down - a little awkwardly, for she could not use her arms for balance - to her knees. Master Jamie moved around behind her, and Amelia signalled that she was only too well aware of this by letting out a little whimper of fear.

Betsy knew, from bitter past experience, that is is no easy task to pick up a coin with one's teeth when one's hands are tightly pinioned, wrist to opposing elbow, behind one's back. That Amelia found the task difficult was obvious. Her bottom, the nursery-maid had to admit, was a real beauty. The sweet cheeks were twitching, the muscles clenching convulsively in anticipation of the tawse. To get her head down, Amelia had to stick her bottom out in counterbalance, but it was clear that she hardly dare attempt the final thrust.

There was a horrid dry whuffling sound as the leather tails disturbed the still air, followed by a vicious-sounding snap, as two leather tails cracked across the softly inviting bottom. Amelia emitted a pained squeak, and Betsy watched the girl's pinioned fingers flex helplessly in their bonds.

"Come along, Amelia, I said pick it up."

"Ohhh, it hurts, ooh,owww, ow, ow..."

"Good God," Jamie said, "at this rate, we'll be here all day." He grabbed a handful of auburn ringlets and hauled the gasping girl roughly back to her feet. Then he thrust her up against the wall.

"Feet apart now - wider, wider, wide as you can. All right, now stand still." He stood back and raised the tawse and, for a moment, the whole of Hatherby seemed to hold its breath.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Three times in swift succession the heavy tawse impacted on Amelia's bottom.

Crack! Crack!

Twice it snapped ferociously across the backs of her thighs. The leather tails hissed through the air, Amelia squealed and Betsy felt her own bottom flinch involuntarily in sympathy.

After the fifth stroke, Jamie allowed the girl a minute to jump about and squeal. Prevented by her bonds from rubbing the wide stripes that dissected her bottom, her hands fluttered futilely. Amelia hopped from foot to foot as if engaged in some demented dance, furiously tossing about her shock of auburn ringlets.

A few minutes later, Jamie knelt, smiling, and retrieved the coin.

"Ow! Yow! Hoo, haaaaaa, that...oooo, that stings!" It was several more minutes before the girl began to cease jiggling and jumping from foot to foot. Amelia gasped and gulped, as the welts ripened to a fiery red. Betsy winced in sympathy as she watched her, all too aware that the tawse that had caused such agitation would be snapping at her own posterior very soon.

Too soon for the nursery-maid, Amelia recovered her composure. Sniffling, the girl resumed her position, pressing the coin to the wall once more with her nose. Amelia's welted bottom and thighs quivered visibly beneath the hem of her gown, as she stretched upward and her muscles strained at their task again.

Jamie turned back to the nursery-maid, tawse swinging slowly in his hand. "Well now, Betsy, I do apologise for that little interruption."

The tawse was hard to ignore. Betsy licked her lips and watched the thick tails swing. Jamie raised it once again, and she held her breath and closed her eyes tight, praying for deliverance as she awaited the inevitable impact.

There was a timid knock at the door. Betsy did not dare to breathe. A pained whimper came from the direction of Amelia, a strained grunt from Clara, and then a resigned sigh from Jamie. Cautiously, Betsy opened one eye. She watched Jamie lower the tawse and turn towards the door. Betsy breathed again.

"Come in!"

A pretty face in a maid's cap peeked anxiously around the parlour door. Betsy recognised the new kitchen-maid, Emma, blinking nervously into the room. The girl looked at the half-naked Amelia and Clara; her eyes widening with surprise, and then she looked away. She stared at Betsy with wide eyes. Blushing, she dropped her gaze to the floor.

"Well, girl, what is it?" Jamie demanded impatiently.

"P-please, sir," Emma's voice was soft and hesitant, her fingers kneading at her apron. "I-I've been sent..."
Whatever could Emma have been sent for? I'm afraid we must wait until next week to find out. You don't mind waiting, do you?
From Hermione's Heart


Roz said...

Oh my, poor Amelia, Clara and Betsy! Jamie is enjoying himself too much, I would dearly love to see him on the other side of the fence. Poor Emma doesn't know what she's in for, or maybe she does?


Michael M said...

Great story thanks. Very arousing.

Hermione said...

Roz - I wouldn't mind seeing Jamie on the receiving end of a paddle - maybe from Aunt Alicia?

Michael - I thought so too!


ronnie said...

I hate the tawse and I would have to say (as Betsy did) it's probably worse than any of our implements.

Enjoying the story Hermione. Thanks for continuing it.


Hermione said...

Ronnie - Your comment reminded me that I really MUST get a tawse, if only to find out why you hate it :)


Enzo said...

I am guessing the no-doubt shiny silver platters on the floor between their straining legs served a duo purpose. Thanks Hermione for another excellent entry in this ongoing story.


Hermione said...

Enzo - I'm guessing that you mean they were mirrors. I never considered that - thanks!


Enzo said...

Yes, the reflective quality was the first thing to come to my mind, but then again that is the way my mind thinks.