From the Top Shelf - Alice and Rosemary

This extract is from a story by China Hamilton. the internationally renowned photographer, who writes very passable erotic fiction in his spare time. It's from a terrific anthology of text and pictures called Maids and published by the Erotic Print Society. This is the tale of two young girls, former residents in an orphanage, who are found work as serving girls as soon as they are old enough to finish schooling. Their first kindly employers are forced, through circumstances, to let them go and the two girls are kept together and sent to a home of the nobility in the west country of England. Life there is a little more severe where her Ladyship gets off on watching the girls punished under the regime of a disciplinarian housekeeper named (Mrs) Weeks.

Alice and Rosemary lapsed into a tacit acceptance of their lot. The days went by and they soon acclimatised to the place and to their duties. Neither master or mistress seemed to notice them and, except for the occasional instruction, no words passed between them. Even the cook started to make conversation and the boy Tom, when alone with them, made earnest attempts to please the girls with silly jokes.

One afternoon, Rosemary was laying out tea for her Ladyship. The silver teapot slipped from her grasp and fell onto the Turkish rug spraying tea in all directions from lid and spout.

'Stupid child,' said her Ladyship. 'Get it cleared up and bring me fresh tea!' That was all she said. Rosemary called for Alice to help, equilibrium was restored and her Ladyship had her tea.

As Rosemary curtseyed before leaving the room, the ominous words assailed her ears. 'You'll be brisked up tonight! Now leave.'

Weeks, when told, seemed very detached about the matter.

'I'm surprised that both of you have made it this far without a visit to the special room, my girl,' she said to Rosemary as they walked together up a staircase in the old, unused part of the house. The way was lit by a candle held by Weeks. When they reached the top, a door on the dusty landing stood open and a light shone from within. The two of them entered.

The mistress was already there, sitting calmly on a large chair. The room was well lit by wall mounted candles. Rosemary, in a frightened daze, took in the room which, she realised, had once been a boudoir. Now it was bare with a few chairs and, in the centre, a wooden construction like a saw horse but on longer legs. Its top came to an edge which was minimally padded by old, well-stained leather. Each leg was linked to leather straps. Upon one wall, she noticed, there hung an array of flagellatory instruments. Small whips, leather straps and a number of long canes.

'Now girl,' said Weeks 'Best if you go along with this and get it over with. Just do as I tell you and all will be fine. Slip off your pinafore and dress and be smart about it.'

Rosemary did as she was told, folding the clothes with deliberate neatness onto a chair. She now stood before the two women in her undergarments.

'Have the girl strip to the waist, Weeks, if you please. Don't want her sweating into the good underwear my money provides' said Lady Elizabeth.

'Off with your top,' said the Housekeeper and Rosemary obeyed, slipping off the simple white chemise to expose her young breasts.

'Have her mount the horse!' said the mistress.

Weeks pulled forward a small wooden box and placed it underneath the horse.

'Climb astride the horse, girl, and use the box,' she ordered.

Rosemary stood up on the box and swung her leg over the ridge to stand with her legs apart across its edge.

'Come down a little towards the end, then part your drawers and sit down with your bare pussy touching the top. I will do the rest,' said Weeks.

Rosemary did as she was told and parted the material of her drawers then placed her 'sweet spot' in its brown curls upon the leather which was marked by the juices of so many girls before her.

Satisfied that the girl was correctly positioned, her bare pussy pressing down against the hard leather of the saw horse, Weeks quickly pulled the box away and Rosemary now felt the painful and instant discomfort of the leather forcing open her labia. Quickly, Weeks swept up each booted ankle and strapped it high up on the rear legs of the horse so that Rosemary was now seated like a jockey. She then pulled the girl down at the front until her nipples caressed the top of the horse. Each of the girl's wrists was now strapped low down on the front legs.

Rosemary was now perfectly placed, bottom thrust up and ready, the edge of the horse pressing cruelly against the base of her mound and her clitoris. She now realised the cunning of this sadistic device to add additional suffering and pain.

Weeks proceeded to completely bare the girl's bottom. She pulled open the division of the drawers and worked the material back, tucking it under so that each neat tightened cheek was clearly on show and gleaming pink in the candlelight.

'Now there, Weeks, is a good sight! What a suitable bottom this young miss has. Well rounded, pert, just ripe for a brisking. Such fresh young skin, neglected for so long. We must make her do her duties without carelessness. A good cane, Weeks, is best for a tight little bottom. That one, the third from the end. That will get her working on the horse and give her a good ride!'

It was the first time that her Ladyship had shown any sign of animation or interest. Her cheeks had become something of a flush and her languid voice had become excited. Weeks took up the suggested cane and flexed it a few times to get its measure. Then she positioned herself behind the proffered bottom. Rosemary had been quiet while all this was going on but the growing pain between her legs made her whimper.

'Two dozen if you please, Weeks, we must make up for past neglect and mark that virgin skin a little. Keep them in a tight group, she has a small arse. Not too hurried, strike just below the curve, you know the spot I'm sure. Now off you go.'

Rosemary had known the burning pain of the birch on many occasions during her time at the orphanage. That was a long time ago and, while the birch strokes had been painful, they in no way matched the extraordinary pain of each stroke of the cane. Weeks was obviously skilled at the task and laid the strokes one upon another to the lowest part of the rounded cheeks. At each stroke, Rosemary could not help but drive forward and further punish her crotch. 'Working upon the horse' as her mistress had promised.

After a number of strokes, Rosemary started to shudder and the muscles of her buttocks engaged in involuntary spasms. With each whistle of the cane, and its frightening crack upon the naked flesh, came the attendant, pitiful scream of the punished girl. The pause between strokes was full of heavy breathing and choking sobs.

Lady Elizabeth sat upright, hands tightly clasped, rocking slowly with ill-concealed delight as the caning progressed. Her eyes were fixed and bright, looking intensely upon the scene, relishing, quite unashamedly, this act of sadism.

There was clear disappointment when the allotted number of strokes were finished.

'The girl may have two days off to let the bleeding stop before she goes back to work. We do not want her garments soiled.' she said, then hastily left the room.

Rosemary was near fainting, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to support her body any longer. Weeks methodically wiped the cane on a cloth before hanging it back on its hook.

Alice did her best to comfort her friend when they were alone in their bedroom. She was very distressed when shown what she was familiar with as a sweet, unblemished posterior to kiss and caress. It was a now a black and purple mess, the raised edges of the weals still seeping little drops of blood. Weeks had provided an old towel to protect the bed clothes though there was no chance of Rosemary lying on her bottom for some time to come.

I wouldn't mind reading the whole book. If I can find it, I will post it for you.