From the Top Shelf - Society III

We continue the tale of the lady and Bertha, her maid, where we left off in the previous post.

"Actually, Bertha, I have had second thoughts."

She looked up and although there was relief and hope in her expression, I recognized a hint of disappointment.

"I shall spank you as your main punishment and then give to a few strokes of the rod at the end. You have been inattentive rather than wicked and so anything more would not be fair. Now stand with your back to me and raise your skirts."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you."

Her hands were trembling so badly that she had difficulty in grasping a sufficient quantity of cloth and her shaking transmitted itself to her arms, for the hem rose up the columns of her limbs with tantalizing slowness... Her naked thighs were temptingly curved. As she felt the cool air begin to caress their upper surfaces, thus informing her that her buttocks were about to be exposed, her nerve seemed to fail her, for she shook in a series of little sobs and the skirts fluttered in sympathy. I heard her drawing a deep breath and the material resumed its upward creep. There was another stifled sob and her bottom inched slowly into view until it was completely bared.

"A little higher, please, Bertha." She complied immediately. I ran my palm over the entire surface... I patted each side and loved the springy quiver which shimmered across the surface.

"Now place yourself across my knees."

Modestly ensuring that her skirts were held low in front, but still holding them well up behind, she moved beside me, bent forward and placed herself in position without allowing her skirts to fall, a feat which is hard to achieve gracefully...

I rolled up my sleeves, gazing down at my delectable target as I did so, noting that although her posture had caused her buttocks to spread and make them noticeably flatter than they had been when she was upright, their youthful firmness was such that the cleft seemed almost as long and deep.

I placed my left arm across her bottom, firmly gripped the well-fleshed ball of her hipbone, then took aim at the roundest part of her nearer buttock and sent my eager hand flying down to sink gladly into the marvellous flesh, revelling at the sound, feel and sight. Her whole bottom quivered most becomingly. What came as a surprise was the dramatic colour of the imprint of my hand on her fine skin. Even though it could hardly have been described as a hard spank, the mark stood out in a glorious shade of bright pink.

Each subsequent impact produced further delights and for the whole of her spanking, the reddening of her flesh absorbed me almost to the exclusion of the other pleasures, although the soft feel of her under my palm was always delicious.

She was, however, an unusually noisy spankee. From the third blow, her moans were audible and, as the fustigation progressed, they grew to squeals, cries, sobs and howls as she bucked and twisted on the firm support of my parted thighs. I continued until I was quite out of breath, with a smarting palm and aching arms. Her bottom was by then a rich deep scarlet all over, including the very tops of her thighs where I had occasionally strayed in my efforts to ensure that even the folds marking their conclusion were visited.

"Well, Bertha, I believe that will have warmed you up nicely. Does it feel very different being smacked on your bare bottom?"

"Ohhh, Ma'am, it really stung. I feel as though a swarm of bees has been sitting on my arse." Smack. "Owww, I'm sorry, Ma'am, honest I am. I mean my bottom. Please don't smack me no more."

"Any more. No, you can remain where you are for a little longer so your bottom can cool off a bit."

"Oh thank you, Ma'am. Can I rub it please?"

"Of course."

Her hands flew back, sank into the discoloured globes, so that the flesh bulged out from between her fingers, then palpated the masses with happy abandon.

"That will do, Bertha. Now it is time for the rod. Stand up."

I'm afraid you must return tomorrow to read about the birching of Bertha.