A Maid of Two Masters
It had been another dinner, if anything even more formal – not surprising, given the kudos associated with hosting their guest of honour at Delaware Hall. Prince Aleksander of Prussia. A tall, intense, serious, deeply dislikeable man – one born to privilege, to expect the very finest, and to scarcely notice when it was laid before him.
Everything imaginable had been done to pamper the Prince. The finest wines had been dug out of his Lordship's cellars, the freshest salmon brought twitching from the stream to the kitchens, the best stag on the estate persuaded to walk across the line of fire just as the Prince had raised his gun during the hunt.
Becky had been serving the wine: a red, she recalled, with French writing on the label. He must have been on his third, fourth glass. She'd leant forward to refill his crystal; he'd nudged her arm as she did. The wine missed him – thank goodness – but splattered the table.
“You should take care,” he bellowed.
“I was trying my hardest, sir,” she replied.
And then the table fell silent.
Silent.
Silent.
Silent.
Every eye was looking at them.
The Prince turned to his Lordship. “I cannot recall being spoken to with such insolence by a servant girl.”
Her master looked pale. “Your Highness, I can only apologise. Butler – relieve the girl of her duties immediately.”
The Prince protested immediately: “And that is it?”
“Your Highness?”
“A girl who spoke like that in my palace would surely be flogged until she learned to hold her tongue.”
“I am sure the butler will discuss her conduct with her, Your Highness.”
“In Prussia, a true gentleman would avenge a grave insult personally, not pass responsibility to his staff to 'discuss'.”
Silence.
Silence.
“Then you may rest assured that I shall indeed punish the girl myself. But might I suggest that we leave that to the morning, and enjoy the rest of this evening's festivities.”
“But of course.” The Prince raised his half-empty glass: “To justice.”
“To justice!”
Becky fled to her bed, of course, inconsolable. What would happen to her? Surely her master would not… could not… He’d know she’d not meant to sound insolent. He'd leave it to morning until the Prince, placated by the splendour of the previous evening's meal, would be calmer; he'd have a quiet word; explain how things were done in England.
An hour, more, must have passed by the time the butler appeared at her bedside. No friend, he: the manner of her original arrival meant that the Prince was not the only one keen to see her brought down.
She stood, brushed down her dress, awaited his news.
“His Lordship will see you in his study after breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Mr Watkins. Is he very angry with me?”
“That is for him to tell you, girl. But you should know that he has asked me to take a walk into the forest at dawn and to cut him a selection of the finest birches.”
The Card Sharp
It was a mixed group of acquaintances and friends, a swinging young singles social club, who had planned the trip to Palm Springs. It was a late winter getaway from the wet and dreary Northwest winter. Palm Springs was great at that time of year—not too hot and really nice. The club picked a condo resort with a great pool for lounging and Natalie was going to make the most of it. Especially with the men. Especially one man.
Natalie wasn’t the best looking girl who had set her cap for new member Devin Cook. He was not only devilishly good looking, he was smart, funny and a very much in command type of guy. Other guys looked up to him, envied him. You could see it in the way they sought him out and included him. He seemed to be a natural leader. The competition was fierce, but she had an idea of how to snag
him.
It was a big hill to climb for Natalie because every woman there who was not attached was naturally drawn to him. But Natalie noticed things. Little details that maybe others missed. Natalie had her own assets. First, although not gorgeous, she was very cute. She was petite and had a nice figure. Not so much on top, but she had a great ass. It was firm, but round and plump and wiggled delightfully when she walked. A pocket Barbie, someone had once called her. And that, she had figured out, gave her an edge because she had paid attention. Find out what the man likes, she told herself. So she had. She had noticed Devin’s eyes, and what she noticed was that they tended to follow shapely backsides as they walked by at the pool. She concluded that Devin Cook was very much an “ass” man.
The other thing she knew, because it came up in conversation all the time, was that he was a poker player. Texas Hold ‘em was his game and he was serious about it.
There had been a number of conversations, in the bars, around the pool, in which Devin talked about it. He wanted to try his hand at the casinos there in the Cochella Valley. And that had given her an idea.
“So how are you going to get him with so many hot girls around?” asked her friend Mandy.
Natalie grinned. “Devin loves poker. I’m going to challenge him to a game.”
She had already piqued Devin’s interest by being a little sassy with him. “It’s all just luck,” she’d said as he had waxed eloquent about the complexities of strategy. “It’s a stupid game. Anybody could win, it just depends on who gets lucky.”
“Luck?” he asked, astonished and a little bemused. “You think it’s just luck?”
“Sure,” she’d said. “You get the right cards, you win. What else is there?”
He had laughed, but the hook had been set. “Care to put that theory to the test, little girl?”
She smiled and said, “I might.” Then she flounced off, giving her butt a good wiggle. She could feel his eyes on her.
Later, she caught up with him at the pool and proposed the game. “I’m going to show you that it’s all just luck,” she said.
He looked at this cute pixie with narrowed eyes. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?” he asked. “If you really think it’s all just luck you should be ready to bet on it.”
“Ok,” she said with a sly smile.
So, what do we play for?” he asked. “You name it, I’m in.”
“How about…spanks?” she said with a sly smile of amusement.
“Spanks?” Devin’s brow shot right up.
“Yeah. Winner gets to spank the loser, bare butt for two minutes. We’ll get a stopwatch.” She had worn her tiniest bikini to the pool. It showed her cute rear cheeks to perfection.
“You’re not chicken, are you?” she teased.
That took him aback. She could see the wheels turning. He was so sure of himself. But this seemed to throw him off. Natalie smirked while he thought for a minute. The smirk must have done it. He fixed her with a serious look and said, “Ok. You’re on.”
Several club members had heard this exchange, and as the story circulated, the buzz was electric. It was all anyone could talk about. Natalie’s friends were aghast.
“What did you let yourself in for?” said her friend Mandy, incredulously. “Suppose he wins and gets to actually SPANK you? That would be so embarrassing. I can’t even imagine!”
Natalie just smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a secret weapon. This is going to come out exactly the way I want.”
“Oh!” said Mandy. She could visualize Devin’s muscular bare butt being spanked. “This I gotta see.”
Then she told her friends.
* * *
They held the game in Devin’s condo. All their friends came to watch. Mandy knew the outcome and had assured her girlfriends. They were all going to get to see the hunky Devin Cook getting his buns roasted. Yeah! This was going to be some spectacle.
What no one knew was that Natalie had scored a marked deck. After an hour they were even. Devin looked worried. A new hand was dealt. Natalie peeked at her hole cards. She noted the marks on Devin’s two hole cards. It was what she’d been waiting for. She bet half her chips. Devin called. The flop came. Natalie bet again. Devin, now very worried, had to call. Both checked at the turn. Then the river.
Natalie smiled. “I’m all in,” she said, and moved all her chips into the pot.
Devin frowned. If she won…no that was unthinkable. He looked at his hole cards again. The odds were in his favor. He had to call, just had to. “I call,” he said. This was it.
The board showed jack, deuce, nine, eight. The river card was a four.
Natalie flipped over a pair of kings. A very strong hand. You could hear a pin drop as Devin slowly turned over a wired pair of aces. Bullets. Pocket Rockets. Call it what you will, it was the winner.
Natalie’s hands flew to her face. “Oh my God!” She whispered it, almost in shock, like she couldn’t believe it. The girls groaned. No Devin Cook bare butt spectacle today.
Devin eyed Natalie’s distress with a look of amusement.
“Looks like I win,” said Devin. He was grinning broadly and his eyes shone with excitement.
Natalie seemed tongue-tied, lost for words. “I, uh, I thought…gee, I had kings,” she stammered.
“I knew I had you. You bet those kings on the flop, but you checked the turn so I knew you didn’t have trips, and the four on the river could not have helped.”
Natalie nodded, eyes downcast.
“So you see, it is a game of skill. Believe me now?”
“Yes.”
For a moment everyone was silent. Devin eyed Natalie. Natalie barely looked up. “I guess it’s time for you to pay up,” said Devin, arching his brow.
Natalie grimaced and stammered, “Uh….ummmm.” She looked around as if the Lone Ranger might ride to the rescue but all she saw were the grinning faces of her friends.
“Somebody’s gonna get a spankin!’” said one of the club members gleefully.
A girl whispered to a friend, “Are they really going to do this?”
Apparently, they were.
Devin dragged out a chair. Someone had thoughtfully put the egg timer on the table as a reminder of the fate that awaited the loser. Devin crooked his finger at Natalie and said “Come here little girl.” She bit her lip with worry and approached him with mincing steps. He held out his hand. She took it and allowed him to lift her up and deposit her face down over his knees. For the game she had worn just a tank top and white play shorts. Devin inserted his fingers and slowly peeled down the play shorts. Underneath Natalie was bare except for a butt floss thong. Her plump bottom cheeks were on full display. The boys whistled. Natalie blushed fifty shades of red.
Devin patted the shapely orbs. They wobbled, the flesh jiggling as Devin sized up the resilience of the seat he was to spank. “Ok, little sister, here we go. Are you ready?”
Natalie managed a muffled ‘yes’. “Someone start the timer.”
One of the watching girls picked it up and held it in front of her face. “Ok. Ready, set…go!” She clicked the timer.
Devin’s hands on her bottom had felt heavenly. She had almost swooned. Then the first Smack! brought her back to reality. It stung! Then she felt a second smack! on her other cheek. Oh my! This is real.
Devin began to apply spanks, alternating between cheeks.
Yow! Yow! This stings. It tingles….Oh ow! Now it feels hot…and stingy.
Devin was spanking her crisply, the sounds of his palm hitting flesh echoing off the room’s walls. After only twenty seconds or so his hand stung. Maybe this is too hard. I don’t want to hurt her. It’s just for fun, though she deserves a good lesson for making fun of the whole thing.
Smack! Crack! Whap!
Devin moderated his force a bit, but the spanks still stung plenty, enough that Natalie squirmed and fluttered her legs.
“Oh…oh…yow!” she yipped.
Devin was mesmerized by the gyrations of Natalie’s cute bottom. The flesh rippled and as he spanked, the jouncy bottom cheeks bounded like they had a life of their own.
Every male eye in the room was transfixed by the wildly erotic spectacle of Natalie, bare bottom up, jacknifed over Devin’s knee and humping up and down as his hand cracked down at a steady pace, turning the cute cheeks pink. Every female eye was transfixed on Devin and that strong right arm that rose and fell with such regularity as he pinned the squirming Natalie over his knee. More than one of the gawking ladies secretly decided that she would have gladly taken Natalie’s place, and several pairs of panties were becoming very moist.
It was coming to an end. The girl holding the watch said, “Thirty seconds.”
“Still think it’s just luck?” (Smack! Smack! Whap!) Devin chuckled as he placed a few sonorous smacks on her wriggling fanny.
“Owww…no!” yelped Natalie.
“Ok, last few,” said Devin and as the girl counted down( “10-9-8-7…”), Devin finished with a light but very rapid flurry of spanks that had Natalie arching her back in an inverted bow and yelping, “Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“Time!” She clicked the watch. Devin stopped. He rubbed the well spanked cheeks which were a hot pink. He had deliberately held back. Still, he was concerned that maybe he had spanked too hard. His hand certainly tingled. He gently lifted her to her feet, worried about her now. At the same time he had a raging hard on. This girl sure knew what he liked. She had the cutest, jounciest little ass on her and that sassiness made him want to spank her all night. And then kiss her. And then…He decided. Time to get rid of all these people.
“Ok, folks. Show’s over. Give Natalie and me some privacy.”
Everyone trooped out.
Natalie was wincing, rubbing her bottom furiously. Her eyes were red and a bit watery.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “It was supposed to be in fun.”
She waved her hand. “No, no, it’s ok. You won fair and square. But whew! Do you have any lotion or anything? Maybe with Aloe in it?”
Devin stood there motionless then smacked the side of his head. “Yeah. Stupid me. Of course I do.”
He fumbled around in the bathroom then found it. “You want me to rub it in?” he asked hopefully.
Natalie smiled shyly. “Would you?”
* * *
The next day Natalie emerged well after noon, wearing a huge self satisfied grin.
“What are you so happy about?” asked Mandy. She recalled the previous evening. All their friends had watched as a triumphant Devin had dragged in the chips, had put Natalie across his knee and peeled down her tiny shorts. Someone had started the stopwatch and Devin had set about applying that brisk spanking to Natalie’s shapely behind. She had watched as Natalie had squirmed across Devin’s lap gasping. A lively lap dance. To Mandy it had looked like utter humiliation. Afterwards, they’d wanted to reconvene at the bar, but Devin had chased everyone out to comfort a tearful Natalie.
“So what happened after we all left?” said Mandy. “No one saw either of you all night.”
Natalie told her the whole thing. Last night, she said, had been everything she’d imagined. What a lover! Now they were an item.
“But Natalie,” protested Mandy, “I don’t understand. That last hand---how could you lose? You knew what his cards were. You knew he was going to win but you called the bet anyway knowing he’d get to spank you bare, and….” Then the great light dawned. “Oh you wicked girl!”
“That’s right” said Natalie with a wide grin. “I cheated.”
At ten minutes to three, Emily reported to the master's study. She rubbed her glowing bottom with one hand and knocked timidly on the door with the other. "Come in, Emily." She recognised the master's voice and he had used her name for the first time.
He was sitting behind his desk when she entered, reading one of his numerous ledgers and making notes therein. He looked up and noticed Emily standing by the door. "Come over here, girl - don't be shy."
Emily shuffled over to the desk, still rubbing her bottom and avoiding his eyes. Master Grimes told her to sit down and smiled gently when she did so, noting her discomfort as she rested her weight on her tender behind.
"I see you have visited Mrs Dickens and Mr Balfour," he said.
She raised her eyes momentarily and looked at his face. She thought she might swoon; his handsome face was creased into a wicked grin and there was a twinkle in his eye. She stared at her hands which were clasped in her lap.
"Do you enjoy working here, Emily?"
"Oh yes, sir," she replied, "very much."
"And do you want for anything?"
"No sir, I have everything I need." She found the courage to look him straight in the eyes. "This is the best job I've ever had. I hope my duties are performed in a satisfactory manner, sir?"
"Yes, Emily, I am very happy with your contribution to the household. I shall tell the rest of the staff so when they arrive shortly. You are exactly the type of girl we need here and the fact that you were willing to do the rounds today is a testament to your suitability. Now, you have only one test more to undertake. Are you willing to undergo this final hurdle?"
"Yes, sir. I hope I may please you in whatever duty I have to perform," Emily said firmly.
"That's the spirit," Master Grimes said enthusiastically and rose from his seat. "I want you to stand here," he said, indicating the middle of the floor.
Emily stood where she was told.
"Now I want you to bend forward and clasp your ankles. That shouldn't be difficult for a healthy nineteen-year-old girl, eh? And one as pretty as you."
Emily returned his smile and did as requested. She found the position somewhat awkward initially and had to adjust her stance several times in order to maintain her balance.
A knock at the door was followed by the entrance of Mrs Dickens and Mr Balfour. They exchanged pleasantries with the master for several minutes and then took their places at the side of the room. Master Grimes undid the buttons at the back of Emily's pantalettes and pulled apart the seams of the garment. He stroked the exposed cheeks of the girl's bottom and admired their angry red hue, complimenting the housekeeper and the butler on the thoroughness of their handiwork. He then went to his desk and took a short thin whippy cane from one of its drawers, brandishing the implement by its crooked handle and swishing it through the air several times with perfunctory coolness.
Susan knocked, entered and apologised for being late as the master approached Emily and stood directly behind her. He seemed unhappy with the position of her legs and ordered her to move her feet further apart which, with some difficulty, she managed to achieve.
"Well," he said eventually, "now that we are all present and Emily is in the correct position, I think we should get down to business."
Susan watched Emily closely as she awaited the kiss of the master's cane. She was reminded of herself when she first arrived at the Grimes household; a naive eighteen-year-old with a lot to learn about life. She was sure that Emily would cope as well as she had four years previously; she certainly had the right attitude to do so.
"This is a test of discipline, Emily," said the master, stroking the cane over the surface of her already reddened rump, "and I must ask you to be silent while punishment is administered. Any sound you make will detract from your performance of the test. Do you understand?"
"Yes, master," said Emily, apprehensively.
Without further ado, the master began to cane Emily's pretty bottom with firm, but not excessive, strokes; steadying her with his hand on the small of her back. Susan, Mrs Dickens and Mr Balfour looked on impassively.
To her credit, Emily did not utter a sound, even after about five minutes of punishment. The master paused and rested his arm.
"You are doing well, Emily," he said.
Emily was determined to please Master Grimes; she held her leather ankle-boots tightly and when he continued her chastisement, she remained silent - apart from the occasional muted gasp or groan.
"The final six strokes, " said the master. "I want you to count them out loud and clear."
Susan and the others had a perfect view of Emily's well-decorated bottom as he administered the final blows. Her fiery cheeks were delightfully framed by the parted seams of her frilly white pantalettes.
With a final righteous stroke of the cane, Emily's punishment ended and she was allowed to stand and rub her scorching bottom. Master Grimes turned to the others.
"You may leave us now. Emily has passed the final test with flying colours and she deserves to be soothed."
Susan gave Emily an encouraging smile as she left the study behind Mrs Dickens and Mr Balfour. At last Emily was alone with the young master. Her heart leapt when he put his arms around her and gave her a sympathetic cuddle, stroking her bare bottom with his free hand. She had often asked herself when it would be her turn. Now that time had come, and when the master produced a bottle of soothing oil, she hoped that her job in the Grimes household would develop into a long and satisfying career.
Posts
All Comments
