From the Top Shelf - The Amorous Professor, Part 3

We pick up from where we left off last week. The new tutor, Frank, has been ordered by his employer to administer a spanking, and Lucy the housemaid is his victim. She has been cheeky and insolent and needs to be taught a lesson, but she doesn't submit willingly.

As Lucy continued to protest loudly, Hortensia Dartman put her hand under the pillow which was propped against the back of a thickly upholstered armchair and drew out several lengths of cord, which she then tossed to me. It was quite clear that this whole thing had been staged in advance.

I hesitated, not knowing quite what to do. I suppose there is an element of sadism in my make-up which made me relish the prospect of mastering this impertinent little vixen who had cheeked me... Besides, Lucy's attitude made me angry. If she had contented herself with behaving in a dignified manner when confronted with the fury of Mrs. Dartman, if she had continued to appeal to my better instincts, I might well have sided with her and risked the loss of my employment. Instead she cried out, "No, you shan't tie me down. The two of you are in cahoots to do this wicked thing to me and I won't let you!"

...All might still have been averted had Lucy contented herself with one mild oath. Instead she turned and tried to strike me. Naturally I fended off her blow, caught her wrist and doubled it behind her back. Since I had a length of cord in the other hand, it was child's play to bind her wrists tightly behind her back while she twisted and tried to kick me in the shins, crying out, "You're nothing but a low-down bastard, helping her - oh you brute, it's easy for you to treat a poor defenceless girl this way - ooo you're hurting me you swine!"

"Watch your tongue!" I shouted angrily as I made her wrists fast. Then I pushed her rudely towards the sofa and forced her down on her stomach. She kicked wildly, but Mrs, Dartman shouted, "Tie her ankles too, that will quieten her down - the little slut!"

I did so. They were finely chiseled ankles, and they were sheathed in very sheer nylon hose. She lay there panting, her face contorted and very red, and then she began to cry... She was really entrancing when she cried, and that saucy freckle face of hers was bathed in tears now and her lower lip was trembling. I felt my prick stiffen with desire as I roughly trussed up the uniform skirt and the slip beneath it, tucked them neatly into the cloth belt at the waist of the uniform, and found myself staring at one of the most delicious bottoms I had ever seen.

The cheeks of Lucy's arse were broad firm ovals, and the white nylon knickers which concealed them actually made them more suggestively enticing than if she had been stark naked at that moment. The material pressed into the sinuously widening crease between those posterior hillocks, and it clearly conveyed the wonderful elasticity and resilience of her voluptuous young posterior.

Her fair young skin was a light cream with rosy flecks dotting it all over. The narrow tab of the garter-belt, the outline of which I could see just under the waistband of those filmy knickers clung tenaciously to the tops of her sheer nylons. She had long supple thighs, extremely graceful, and her calves were high set, sinuous and very sensitively muscled. I watched them, flexing and rippling, as she fought to free herself.

"No, it's not right, you've got no right to make him to that to me," Lucy cried out, trying frantically to roll off the sofa. But I, with great anticipation and delight at being able to conquer her rebellious spirit, inserted my fingers inside the waist-band of those filmy nylon knickers and slowly drew them down.

To this day I have never failed to experience a throbbing in my prick of great excitement and anticipation whenever I am about to unveil a female posterior. The humiliation, the anguish of the victim, the knowledge that soon her naked bottom will not only be viewed by a man, but will also be exposed to the merciless kisses of the birch, paddle, cane or tawse or even the more mortifying child-like chastisement of the palm of my hand, provide me with an unquenchable sensation of triumph and mastery. I think this is true of every sadist, though my sadism is necessarily more imaginative and certainly never unfeeling or brutal. In short, the prospect of whipping Lucy's naked behind intoxicated me, and allowed me to forget the main reason for her punishment...

She uttered a sobbing cry, bowed her head and then burst into uncontrolled tears as I rolled her knickers down to mid thigh... As I reached for my case, my eyes did not leave the snowy, firm, spacious ovals which twitched and quivered in the most obvious apprehension of what was to follow. I could see Lucy's face, red with shame and wet with tears, pressed down against the surface of that thickly upholstered period piece, and her shoulders had begun to heave as she fought to control her sobs of desperate mortification and chagrin.

Meanwhile I opened my case and took the spanker, that black gleaming leather sole which weighed so well in my hand and promised to make such a loud and humiliating noise when it struck Lucy's naked, pale behind. Hortensia Dartman, seeing me advance with spanker in hand, nodded her head with glee; "Smack her wicked bottom until it's as red as a tomato, Mr. Meredith!" she exhorted. She was pressing down with all her might, her palms on the middle of Lucy's back, keeping the unfortunate girl in place, helpless to avert her atonement...

There was a foot-stool nearby and I drew it up and seated myself on it comfortably. I was thus able to have the redhead's bottom and thighs within easy reach and without undue exertion.. Putting my left hand on one of her stockinged lower thighs, I lifted the sole and delivered its first kiss with a downward jerking turn of my wrist. Craaaaack! as the sole merged over the tender inner curves of both oval arse cheeks, pinching them as it bridged the shadowy groove which separated Lucy's voluptuous naked bottom-cheeks.

A shrill wail came back instantly, and Lucy turned her face back over her shoulder to implore mercy from me. Again her bound ankles fought the cords, and her legs tried to kick and flail but they could not.

I placed a second blow over the base of her bottom, once more horizontally, once more bridging the crease and pinching the tender inner edges. Here, as I have since learned, the flesh of a girl's naked bottom is far more sensitive than towards the summit and the top. The reaction was instantaneous; a wild cry of pain, hoarse sobs and a frenzied thrashing of the now scarlet-splotched bare bottom this way and that as Lucy tried to shake off the heat which these first two spanks from the leather sole had engendered in her tender flesh.

I applied a third spank with all my might, once again straight across both oval cheeks, at their broadest curves. Once again, Lucy's cry was deafening, and she twisted and swerved herself savagely about as she hoarsely shouted, "Owwwwww, Aaaahh, it's dreadful - oh you are a wicked woman to make him do this to me. Please stop, Mr. Meredith, you are hurting me awfully!"

I applied two more spanks, to leave five horizontal streaks over the magnificent contours of Lucy's writhing, naked arse, each drawing a wild cry and a sobbing plea for mercy. I was quite certain that the degree of heat produced by the leather spanker would be quite adequate to punish this impertinent minx for the way she had behaved towards me.

Now I began to touch up Lucy's wriggling weaving bottom. Five more times the leather spanker fell across both cheeks,with a loud whack each time, till from the chinkbone to the tops of her thighs the splotched outlines of the leather sole were plainly marked upon her shuddering, contracting cheeks and there was little white skin left for the eye to relish.

Once again her hips threshed about, lunging up and then flattening, and her yells and wails were exquisite to my ears... I now resumed the spanking with two vertical blows, one to the edge of each lovely, firm hip and Lucy again wailed out her anguish and wriggled her bottom in the most fetching way. two more followed, closer towards the crease, and two more which nearly pinched it shut. Her cries were deafening, and the frenzied attempts of her bound legs to kick and twist afforded me a quick glimpse of the thickly haired slit...

By the twentieth spank, Lucy had forgotten about the shame of having her naked bottom displayed before a man's eyes and was pleading brokenly for mercy. Hortensia Dartman moved back a little, cupped the girl's trembling chin in both palms and stared deeply into her tear glazed eyes: "Are you going to be more obedient in future? Answer me! I'll have you whipped until there is no skin on your bottom unless you obey!" she threatened.

I added two more spanks, diagonally applied, one from the left downward across the right cheek,and the other a back-handed reverse which sent the tip of the leather sole crashing against the inner edge of the top left buttock, continuing on toward the base as the flat surface of the sole wedded itself to Lucy's burning arse...

"This is quite enough, Mrs. Dartman. Her bottom is very red and sore as you can see for yourself. I think she has suffered enough." To convince her I applied three or four more spanks all over Lucy's bounding, wriggling and now dark red naked arse, drawing piteous wails and cries plus an outpouring of fresh new tears.

It was a moderate smack-bottom and not unduly severe. The noise of the sole as it landed obviously added to Lucy's distress and made it seem much more severe than was actually the case. Her bottom was hot and stinging, and it would remain that way for a few hours. But gradually the marks would fade and once again there would be that pale cream flesh with those delicious rosy flecks which had driven me so mad with desire.

"I think she's had enough for a start," I said at last, adding two more spanks which drew shrill screams and frantic twisting from the unfortunate bound captive. Lucy lay sobbing, her face pressed down against the upholstery of the sofa, wetting it with her tears.

Lucy will no doubt remember her manners and behave appropriately in future, for a while, at least.

From the Top Shelf - The Maid Takes Charge

Today's extract is from the anonymous novel Sweet Sixteen. Isabelle, the high spirited young daughter of a nobleman, has been told by her father she is to be spanked for disobedience by her own maid. She does not dare argue with her father about the punishment, but is determined to offer some resistance and to retain the upper hand even if she must submit to discipline at the hands of someone of lower station than herself.

Once the two girls were left alone, Maria advanced towards Isabelle. "Now then, Miss, you heard what your father said...submit yourself to me...you have to do so."

"Idiot!" replied Isabelle, looking the servant up and down.

"Idiot, I may be, Miss, but nevertheless you are going to receive a whipping."

"You dare touch me!"

"Oh! We will soon see about that." The struggle commenced. Maria threw herself on the young girl and grasped her in her arms, lifting her off the ground and bending her backwards. They both lost their balance.

Isabelle fell on her back, dragging with her Maria, who immediately tried to turn Isabelle over so that she was lying on her stomach.

Without uttering a word they continued to struggle: as soon as Maria made her turn half over, Isabelle, quick as lightning, re-established herself in the defensive position destined to protect her buttocks from the degrading fate which menaced them.

The young girl was pale with rage. The servant, on the contrary, was red from the results of her exertions.

The contrast between these two young women was as extreme as it could be, but at that moment, neither one nor the other gave a thought to the aesthetics of her attitude. The younger brunette struggled to defend herself and the other to overcome her.

After several unsuccessful attempts to get Isabelle into position, Maria adopted a brutal stratagem. It had to be accomplished somehow.

Seizing Isabelle's arm vigorously, she began to twist it round. The young girl gave a shriek of pain. She tried to resist. Maria continued the movement and, little by little, Isabelle was obliged to give way to the pressure applied by her torturer.

She lay down on her stomach. Without releasing the arm, Maria took up a leather cushion which had fallen to the ground during the fight, and slipped it under her young mistress's belly, which had the result of bringing into prominence the young lady's behind which shaped clearly under the light, thin material of the clinging skirt.

All was ready. With a bound, Maria straddled her victim backwards, her face turned towards the goal she wished to reach; settling her big sit-upon on the young girl's back, she pinned her with all her weight to the carpet.

Isabelle felt that she was beaten. She resigned herself to the inevitable and did not attempt to struggle when she felt the hands pull roughly at her skirt to turn it up.

The drawers were immediately underneath. In order to look thinner, to be more in the fashion, the young girl was not wearing a petticoat. Maria attacked this frail envelope which covered the girl's condemned parts. She did not trouble to open the slit, but proceeded to remove the drawers entirely.

First of all she unhurriedly piled the skirt over the loins, then she searched around the waist for the string of Isabelle's drawers. When she found it she untied it carefully, then slipped the dainty drawers all the way down along the thighs. She next lifted the girl's chemise and looked at the little plump bottom, with its deep crease, almost like a boy's bottom, rather more rounded though, with a bold line that gave it an impudent air.

The white silk stockings and same coloured garters set off admirably the dull golden skin of the lovely little brunette. The cushion placed under the belly threw up the bottom which opened out, emphasizing its furrow of warm shade, proffering itself in its most favourable amplitude to the thorough spanking which it was fated to receive.

"Look out, my beauty, I'm beginning..."

The warning was, to say the least, unnecessary. The first smack sounded clear and joyful, the hand bouncing off the young and elastic bottom. Then there came an uninterrupted shower. Slap! Bang! Slap! Bang! Here, there, right, left, in the middle and across.

Maria's robust hand spanked with a desolating power. Isabelle braced herself, alternately opening and closing her buttocks, but still without uttering a sound. Her moon reddened under the blows. With her slender thighs still white and the bottom of her loins also untouched, visible under the edge of the turned-up marine-blue dress, her crimson behind resembled a brass kettle-drum. The heat made it shine, completing the likeness of this somewhat unbecoming comparison.

Isabelle had already received about thirty slaps. She did not cry out but her breath came pantingly, her body bounced on the cushion, her knees were gripped tightly the one against the other, her feet, contracted in their little white kid high-heeled boots, scraped the floor.

Sometimes, under a more spiteful blow, the victim weakened, her muscles relaxed their tension, the bottom opened like a big rose in the sun, the knees grew limp, and the young girl seemed to surrender herself, forgetful of all decency, until, quivering again, she stiffened herself once more in a short-lived attempt to control all her nerves.

Maria, with dilated nostrils, conscientiously applied the spanking she had been charged to give. She soundly slapped Isabelle's bottom about fifty times, without wringing a cry or a moan from the obstinate victim.

At last the big red-headed maid's plump hand began to hurt her, she stopped, rose nimbly to her feet, and put up her hair, which had come down in the course of the struggle.

"Now then, Miss, that's over; you can do up your drawers...aren't you ashamed to stay like that with your bare moon waving in the air?"

But Isabelle was far from ashamed. Now that her hindmost mysteries had been so clearly exposed to view, she saw no particular object in hiding them so quickly; so with her face in her hands, she gave a glance between her fingers and replied mischievously, "Since you took them off, you can put them on again yourself!"

"Very well, come here," said Maria, smiling strangely.

Isabelle got up, turned her back on the servant who, kneeling behind her, put on her drawers, burst into a merry laugh, did up her drawers herself, and looking Maria in the eyes, smiled at her. Maria in turn smiled back and blushed to the very roots of her hair. Without another word, Isabelle ran up to her room, turning slowly two or three times to see if Maria was following her.

"Miss," said the maid, lowering her eyes modestly, "if you would like me to tend your behind, I have some soothing lotion...if you wish...."

"Come on up then, stupid!" replied Isabelle, " but the next time you spank me, I beg you not to hit so hard, because you have really hurt me."

And then they both burst out laughing like the two little madcaps they were.