Maid to Order (17 page)

‘You didn’t do me over you knee. It was over the back of a chair.’

I’d spoken in a mumble, and just to be contradictory, which I suppose I should have known would only make her worse.

‘What did you say?’ she demanded.

‘Nothing.’

‘Right. You’ve had this coming to you for a long time, Jemima, and now you are going to get it, properly.’

It was perfectly obvious what she meant, and that she’d intended to give it to me all along, and this time it would be panties down. I pushed my chair back, meaning to run, but she was too fast, snatching out to grab my wrist.

‘Come here, Jemima!’

‘Fuck off!’

She hauled, pulling me onto the table and sending my plate and glass crashing to the floor.

‘Now look what you’ve done! Can’t you at least accept what’s coming to you?’

‘Fuck off!’

I hit out at her, but she’d twisted my wrist, forcing me around and I missed completely. The table went over with a great clatter of crockery and glass as she jerked me towards her and my curses had turned to pleas as I realised I couldn’t stop her.

‘No, not here! No! Danielle!’

‘That’s Mummy to you,’ she answered, twisting my wrist harder still.

‘No, please!’

The tears were already starting in my eyes as she forced me down, her voice a vindictive hiss when she spoke.

‘Over you go, you mouthy little brat.’

‘No!’

It was too late. I was in position, bent down across her lap with my face an inch from the floor, my bum in the air and my legs kicking frantically behind me, almost completely upside down. One hard tug and my body had been adjusted into a better spanking position, which was when I saw Stefan, standing in the doorway to the gallery with a bottle of wine in one hand and a corkscrew in the other.

‘Help! Stop her, please!’ I begged.

He didn’t even move, gaping stupidly at the scene for a moment before his mouth twitched into a smile.

‘Bastard! Make him go away, Danielle, please?’

‘Language, Jemima,’ Danielle chided. ‘If he wants to watch, he can. It’ll do you good. Right, dress up.’

I snatched back with my free hand in a desperate attempt to stop her lifting my dress, but it was already up, the seat of the big white panties I’d put on now on show to her and to Stefan. My bottom felt huge, bulging in the cotton and I was calling both of them every name I could think of until Stefan spoke.

‘So that’s why you like it, you get it from your mum.’

‘Piss off!’ I screamed, still fighting to get my dress back down.

‘Stop it, Jemima,’ Danielle warned, ‘or I’ll have Stefan hold you down.’

‘No, come on, please, that’s not fair!’ I babbled in rising panic. ‘No!’

‘Then let go,’ she ordered.

I stopped fighting but kept my grip on my skirt, still trying to bargain.

‘I’ll be good if you make him go away, or at least let me keep my knickers up!’

‘No,’ she answered. ‘You let go now, or I’ll hold both your wrists while he gets you stripped.’

‘No!’

I released my grip, sobbing bitterly as I put my hand back on the floor to steady myself. The tears were running down my face and it felt as if there was a huge bubble in my throat as she adjusted my dress to leave me bare from the waist down, save for my panties.

‘Good girl, that’s better,’ she said. ‘Now, how about those knickers? I said they’d come down, so down they come.’

‘No, Danielle, please!’ I begged. ‘Or if you really have to, make him go away, please ...’

‘I said they’d come down, so down they come,’ she repeated. ‘Knickers down, Jemima!’

I’d caught hold of them, because I couldn’t stop myself, but her last two words were a stern command and she’d already got her thumb in my waistband, with half my bum already on show. I was clinging on as hard as I could, but only succeeded in pulling them up into my slit to spill my cheeks out at either side. My flesh was wobbling crazily as I began to struggle again, kicking and squirming and cursing her as we fought over the tiny scrap of cotton that was my last barrier against complete exposure and the unbearable humiliation of a panties-down spanking from her. Stefan was laughing, and suddenly the most important thing in the world was to get rid of him.

‘Please, Danielle,’ I gasped as I slumped back over her lap. ‘Don’t let him watch. I’ll be good!’

‘Then let go of your knickers.’

‘Only if you promise.’

‘Oh very well, I suppose it is a bit inappropriate.’

I let go, relief flooding through me, only for her to immediately whip my panties right down. As my bum came on show, I screamed and tried to throw myself off her lap but she clung on. He was laughing louder than before as Danielle got me properly bare, dragging my panties off my kicking legs and hooking one calf around my ankle to spread me out, so my pussy was gaping and my bum cheeks wide open to show every rude detail between.

‘You fucking bitch!’

‘Temper, temper, Jemima,’ she panted, ‘You’re only making it worse for yourself. When I say knickers down I mean knickers down, and that’s that. You do not argue!’

‘OK! But make him go away, please!?’

‘No. In fact, I rather think he should watch. Perhaps then you’ll learn your lesson? Anyway, he knows you get it. He’s seen you at Morris’s parties. Maybe he’s even done you. Has he?’

‘Yes,’ I answered, the word a barely audible sob.

‘I thought so,’ she said. ‘So what can it possibly matter if he sees you get it from me? It’s all right, Stefan, you can spank her whenever you feel it’s appropriate as far as I’m concerned. It’ll do her good.’

He was looking doubtful, and no surprises there if he really thought she was my mother. But she was obviously enjoying my humiliation too much to care one way or the other. She was certainly keen on him getting a good look, holding me with my bum spread as she got her breath back. I hung my head, defeated, about to be beaten and burning with humiliation; for the position I was in, for being done in front of him, but most of all for being done by her. Finally she found her voice. ‘Right, Jemima, you are going to learn a lesson, a hard lesson.’

As she spoke she had leant down to where she had placed her handbag by her chair. I knew what she was doing immediately and began to wriggle again, and to beg.

‘No, Danielle, not the hairbrush! It’ll hurt!’

‘It’s supposed to,’ she answered, and brought it down with a heavy smack, full across my open cheeks.

‘Ow! Danielle! Ow! Please, not so hard! I’m sorry, I really am ... I’ll be a good girl, but not so hard!’

She took no notice at all, spanking me with firm, deliberate swats to the crests of my cheeks. It hurt crazily and I could barely move, but to kick my one free leg up and down and thump my fist on the floor in a futile effort to dull the pain, all the while cursing and pleading with her to stop or at least slow down. At last she spoke, her voice punctuating the smacks of wood on my bare flesh.

‘This is a punishment, Jemima, not play. It’s supposed to teach you a lesson.’

My answer was an incoherent wail as she continued to lecture me and apply the hairbrush, a word and a smack, another word and another smack.

‘You will show me respect and you will show me gratitude. You will do as I tell you and you will do it promptly. Otherwise, you will be spanked. Do you understand that, Jemima? Spanked! Spanked! Spanked! Spanked!’

The last four smacks were even harder, and delivered to both my cheeks and the backs of each of my thighs, which stung so badly I lost what little remained of my control, thrashing wildly in her grip with my hair flying in every direction and my fist thumping a furious tattoo on the floor as she carried on with the beating; now on the back of my legs as well as my bum and faster than ever.

I thought I’d go out of my mind with the pain, because she was spanking so hard and she just wouldn’t stop, peppering my bottom and thighs with blows, until everything had merged into one, hot ache, taking me over the brink. Suddenly I needed fucking; my cunt the centre of my body, a wet hole at the heart of my beaten flesh, was desperate for a long, fat cock while I was held shaking in the arms of the woman who’d beaten me. I couldn’t help it, but that didn’t stop me feeling desperately ashamed of myself as I began to stick my bottom up and my squeals and yelps turn to cries of pleasure. It stopped.’

‘Oh no you don’t!’ Danielle laughed. ‘I know your game, you little slut. Now get up.’

I couldn’t; I was too well beaten to respond until she helped me, and even then I had to support myself on the back of a chair. Stefan gave a single, amused grunt and walked away, leaving me alone with Danielle.

She offered me a handkerchief. ‘Wipe your face. You look a disgrace.’

She was right: my cheeks were wet with tears and snot hung from my nose and chin. I wiped it up, glad of the excuse to do something because I felt dizzy and confused; not sure if I hated her more than ever, or whether I needed a cuddle and my head put between her thighs. I was hurt and humiliated, but on a spanking high so strong I could barely keep my fingers away from my pussy. She knew; I could see it in her eyes and the faint smirk on her lips.

‘You should give in to it,’ she suggested. ‘Come on, how about a hug for Mummy?’

It took all my willpower not to give in as she held out her arms. Her nipples were stiff, showing through her blouse, and I knew what I wanted: to be held to her chest and suckled while my bottom was soothed and my pussy masturbated.

‘Piss off!’

‘Jemima.’

It was all she said, but it was so firm, so full of authority, and she had taken me very gently by the hand. Something inside me seemed to snap. I went down, curled into her, my legs open and my face nuzzling at her breasts. She gave a little sound of amusement or surprise, but she understood and quickly tugged my dress up to leave my chest bare. Then she opened her blouse and lifted one breast free of her bra. I took her nipple in my mouth, hating myself even as I began to suck, with my cunt spread to her hand and the tears pouring down my cheeks. She knew she had me, smiling in triumph as I fed at her teat and her fingers rubbed on my pussy.

My tears were running free as I was masturbated, but I couldn’t stop myself. She was far more skilful than Mrs Hegedus, flicking and rubbing at my clitty until I’d started to arch my back and push myself into her hand, all the while suckling urgently at her nipple and rubbing my face on her breasts. My head was full of thoughts of my spanking: how firm she’d been with me; how she’d stood no nonsense about my knickers staying up; how hard she’d beaten me in a really thorough punishment spanking given with the flat of her hairbrush to leave my bottom and thighs sore and aching; how she’d driven me to complete surrender; made me lie in her lap with my titties bare, my mouth fastened to her nipples and my thighs cocked apart as she fiddled with my cunt.

When my orgasm came it was so strong I nearly passed out, but before my head had even begun to clear all my resentment came rushing back. I pulled away from her, trying to get up, but my legs were shaking so badly I fell on my bottom, which hurt and made her laugh. It was all I could do to roll over onto all fours and pull myself up on a chair, with her chuckling as she watched me. I knew I was pouting, but I couldn’t help it, because if it made me look like a spanked brat then that was exactly what I was.

‘What a sight!’ Danielle laughed. ‘Go on, in the corner, hands on your head and leave your bum bare while you think about learning a bit of respect.’

‘You can’t make me do corner time, Danielle!’

She picked up the hairbrush.

‘OK, OK!’ I promised. ‘I’ll go in the corner, but for goodness sake!’

‘Just do as you’re told.’

I was going to go, but first I craned back to inspect my bottom, which was one huge bruise, the backs of my thighs too. But as I tucked up my dress so that I’d be showing, I caught a noise outside and realised there were people on the terrace. They’d probably heard, because I hadn’t exactly been quiet, and I was blushing again immediately but very grateful John had told me to leave the blinds down. Dropping my dress, I poked two fingers between the slats, opening them to peep out and see who it was, because all they’d have to do was look down through the slats and they’d be able to watch me doing corner time.

‘Don’t ...’ Danielle began, but it was too late.

There was a man looking in at me; an elderly Chinese man with a completely bald head and a face like a big moon. He’d been watching, peering down through the slats as I was stripped and spanked by Danielle, and he wasn’t alone. There was a whole line of them, the Chinaman, three who looked like American tourists, a pair I guessed were Turkish or Greek, an Arab in full traditional dress, a big, greasy looking individual who might have been Spanish or Latin American, Mr Hegedus and Morris Rathwell.

It took a moment for the truth to sink in. They’d watched my spanking, no doubt from the start; everything, including my surrender to Danielle. And it was no coincidence they were there. I’d been set up, and as all the pieces gradually came together in my brain my mouth had dropped open and the blood was rushing to my face in a blush so hot I must have been purple. The Chinaman had stepped back, and said something to Morris which I didn’t catch, then laughed.