From the Top Shelf - Susan, Part 1

We have been introduced to the strange "Victorian" household created by S.T. Rogers here. In Susan and the Old Rocking Horse, the story continues the next morning.

The attic was full of the detritus of a bygone age. Emily's eyes swept over the peripheral flotsam and jetsam in the chamber; dust covered books, old board games, porcelain dolls, toy soldiers, trinkets and bric-a-brac were strewn everywhere. It occurred to her that all of these items combined would fetch a pretty penny at auction.

Although only two o' clock in the afternoon, the attic seemed quite dim; the two large windows in the ceiling being largely neglected and filmed with dust. As her eyes scanned the corners of the room, Emily caught sight of her reflection in the looking-glass. She was dressed in the uniform of a Victorian chambermaid. Sometimes she had to remind herself that she was living in the 1990's. Still, Master Grimes insisted that his servants dress in that fashion and she was by now quite used to the idea; enjoyed it even.

However much her eyes wandered, they always came back to the centre of the room. This was quite understandable because of what was happening there.

Susan, Emily's friend and fellow maid, was sitting astride the exquisite rocking horse which occupied that space. The grey dappled mare was almost life-size. Susan's feet rested in the stirrups and she held the reins tightly; her bare bottom pushed high in the air as the riding crop descended...

* * *

After witnessing the thrashing of Mrs Dickens, Emily's mind was in turmoil. She had intended to go straight to Susan's room and discuss the matter with her friend and fellow maid. But she was so full of confused erotic impulses that she decided to go straight to her own chamber and try to calm down.

As she lay in her bed in the darkness, she realised that there was no logical answer to any of the questions forming in her mind. She had never been spanked as a child; she'd been blessed with the archetypal 'modern parents' who believed it was wrong to physically discipline children. In fact she had never witnessed anyone receiving corporal punishment in all her nineteen years - until tonight. So why had the sight of it affected her so? Perhaps it was the knowledge that both the participants knew exactly what they were doing and gained immense satisfaction from their actions; a kind of erotic role-play.

A delicious game.

The bottom line (Emma giggled at her pun) was that the sight of Mrs Dickens having her bare backside tanned by the young master had turned her on. She had actually been jealous; wishing it was her own pert bottom receiving his strict attentions.

And he was so handsome...

The next morning at breakfast Emily exchanged glances over the table. Emily would peek at Mrs Dickens who was behaving, as ever, like the indomitable matriarch and then at Susan, and she was barely able to suppress a giggle each time.

"Do you find something amusing, young lady?" said Mrs Dickens. "Perhaps you would like to share it with us."

"Oh no, Mrs Dickens," Emily replied hastily, "I was just thinking what a lovely breakfast this is."

Mrs Dickens eyed her suspiciously as she lowered her eyes and gazed at her plate. Turning to Susan, the housekeeper said, "The master has requested that you attend to the dust in the attic this afternoon, Susan. As you are senior maid I am sure I have no need to detail the duties involved, you are no stranger to them."

Susan nodded assent and continued with her breakfast. Emily wondered at the implication in the housekeeper's voice. She glanced at Mr Balfour for some sort of clue but the reticent butler merely chewed his toast and stared vacantly at some point in the space ahead of him.

After breakfast the two maids were assigned to clean the master's bedroom and Emily at last had her chance to question the older girl about the events of the previous night. Susan listened patiently as the younger maid gushed out her story.

"And what is your opinion of what you witnessed?" Susan asked when Emily had finished.

"I found it very...unusual."

Susan smiled. "You mean you found it...exciting."

Emily hesitated and then giggled. "Yes, I did."

Susan took Emily's hand and they sat on the bed. "You are becoming aware of what is required of you, as a maid, in this household. The master has his ways and Mrs Dickens and I are well used to them. What happens is mutually rewarding. The master is merely providing what we want...what we women require, deep down. Do you understand?"

"I think I do..." said Emily.

"When I am to clean the attic this afternoon you will come with me. Then your understanding will be complete."

Emily tried to question Susan further but the older maid told her to be patient; she would find out soon enough.

* * *

At ten minutes before two, Emily heard a knock at the door and answered it excitedly. She blinked in amazement at Susan, who was standing there looking, for all the world, like a horse-rider in a dressage competition. Black jacket and boots contrasted delightfully with white shirt, cravat and skin-tight riding breeches. Her dark hair was swept up and held under a cocked black riding cap. She held a riding-crop in her gloved right hand.

"Susan, " Emily gasped, "what are you doing..." Susan simply smiled radiantly and then led Emily up the stairs to the attic.

"I don't understand," Emily was saying, "I thought you were supposed to dust the attic. Why are you dressed like this?"

"It is part of the game, Emily," replied Susan. "The master used to punish me in the conventional manner - in maid's attire. I grew tired of it and suggested this outfit."

"So the riding uniform is all your idea?"

"Of course," smiled Susan. "You're so naive, Emily, you have so much to learn. Did you really think I was being asked to clean the attic this afternoon?"

They reached the top of the stairs and Susan paused in the narrow passageway. "Emily," she said, "the master knows of your recent appointment and your presence in the house. He does not know that you witnessed the thrashing of Mrs Dickens last night and he does not know you will be present in the attic. When he comes into the attic in a few minutes, it is best that you busy yourself and say nothing. He will see you and realise that I have brought you, and he will act accordingly."

Susan pushed open the attic door which creaked noisily on its hinges. Almost as soon as they had closed the door behind them, the sound of approaching footsteps reached their ears.

"Quick," said Susan, "the master is coming up the stairs. Go and stand over there, Emily."

Emily obeyed and Susan moved over to the old rocking-horse in the middle of the room. She put one booted foot in the stirrup and quickly mounted the creature. Turning to Emily she whispered hoarsely, "Remember what I've told you." Then, working her thighs and buttocks she set the rocking-horse in motion.

The door opened and Master Grimes entered. Emily turned and pretend to be busy clearing up junk on the floor.

"Well," said the master, "what have we here?"

He was standing with hands on hips staring at Susan when Emily looked at him. "Haven't I told you not to ride that beast," he said to Susan. It was more like a statement than a question.

Susan stopped rocking. Apparently flustered, she attempted to dismount.

"Stay where you are, girl," he commanded. Susan obeyed. Turning his head he became aware of Emily's presence. In the brief moment before she lowered her eyes beneath his gaze, Emily detected uncertainty in his eyes; like an actor momentarily forgetting his lines. But when she dared to look up again, she saw that he was back in character.

"Ah, the new maid," he said. "it is good that you are present, my dear. You will have an excellent opportunity to see how I deal with recalcitrant young ladies."

Taking a wooden box from the floor, Master Grimes placed it next to the rocking-horse and began to roll up his sleeves. Susan began to whimper softly as he stood on the box and surveyed her.

"You know the penalty for disobedience?" he asked.

"Y-yes sir..." stuttered Susan.

"Give me the whip." Susan took the riding crop which was hanging by the strap from her wrist and placed it in his hand as ordered.

I see that we have run out of time. Next week we will find out why Master Grimes asked for the whip, and how Susan felt about it.