Mira's Maid (F/ff story)

All of the girls in my class wanted to be friends with Mira. She was popular, charismatic, a good student, and beautiful – not to mention that her parents were filthy rich. An 18-year-old couldn't dream of a better life than that.

Well, I tell a lie. Most of the girls wanted to BE Mira. But if you couldn't do that, being her friend was also good.

So when the bell rang at the end of the school day, and Mira asked me if I wanted to hang out that afternoon, I jumped at the opportunity.

We spent an hour or two at the mall, trying on skirts and sipping some eye-wateringly expensive lattes. For the sake of my pride, I'd made a token effort to pay for my coffee myself, but she insisted on treating me – which was fortunate, because I had very little money and really didn't want to waste it like this. I didn't even know they sold such expensive drinks in my little town, but I guess when your parents are loaded, you get used to treats like that.

Our shopping trip done, we headed back to her home to relax. As we entered the house, we were greeted by a very angry-looking maid. Yes, they have a maid. One who walks around all day in that silly black costume from old movies, and who cleans so they don't have to. Did I mention that her parents were rolling in it?

The maid, who was a tall, slim woman with short, red hair, folded her arms in front of her chest and glared at Mira. "And where have you been, young lady?"

I was slightly taken aback; I'd never had a maid before, but I didn't think they talked to their employers like that. Maybe it was because she was the daughter of the house and not the owner. Mira sighed, rolling her eyes. "I was at the mall, Abigail. Chill."

"Your parents gave you strict instructions to come straight home from school today. They wanted to talk to you before they left for their evening out, but they couldn't wait any longer." She raised an eyebrow in a way that reminded me of the expression my mother wore whenever I was in trouble. "They had also told you to clean your room yesterday, if I recall correctly."

Mira huffed. "I'm hanging out with Jenny right now. I'll do it later."

Abigail the Maid nodded. "Yes, you will. Your parents instructed me to make sure you cleaned your room today. They also asked me to deal with your disobedience so far." She sat down on a straight-backed armless wooden chair that stood nearby, patting her lap. "Come here, Mira."

I stared at the maid. She didn't mean what I thought she meant, right? I just had a dirty mind – there was no way in hell that my eighteen-year-old classmate was about to be spanked by her maid. I glanced over at Mira, about to share my amusing mistake with her, and I was shocked to see her fidget and nervously chew her finger, suddenly transformed into a naughty little girl. She'd come to the same conclusion I had, and from her reaction, it wasn't the first time it had happened.

"Come here, Mira," Abigail repeated, her voice several degrees colder as she patted her lap again. I guess Mira's words had accomplished something – the maid HAD chilled.

The maid and the miss (F/f story)

The lanky, dark-haired teenager Luna was heading downstairs to the kitchen, looking for a snack, when she heard her mother's maid complaining to her visiting friend. The door was slightly ajar, and she saw that the two women were sitting at the kitchen table, each with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"And have you seen the state of her room?" Christine was saying. The tall, fair-haired maid shook her head. "If any of my sisters had made a mess like that, I would put them over my knee and warm their bottoms."

Isabel raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend. "Luna's eighteen, isn't she?"

Christine shrugged. "Yes, but so what? She's not too old for a spanking, if that's what you think. My sister Anna is 21 now, and she's still subject to our parents' discipline – and mine, whenever I'm back there and my parents are too busy to deal with her." Isabel gave her a questioning glance, but Christine waved it away. "I'm ten years older than her, so she's expected to obey me."

"I'm pretty sure Luna's mother would object to such a treatment," Isabel pointed out.

"Obviously," Christine conceded. "The girl has never been spanked in her life. That much is clear." She sniffed disapprovingly. "Pity, really. I really think she would benefit from it."
 
Luna stood outside the room, her heart beating so loudly she almost couldn't hear what the two women were saying. For a brief moment, Luna was worried that they could hear it – and wondered what they would do if they caught her listening at the door. She shivered at the thought.

As quietly as she could, she retreated to her room, sitting down on her bed to process what she'd just heard. So, her mother's maid actually wanted to spank her!

The maid was correct that Luna had never been spanked – and when Christine said that this was a pity, Luna actually agreed completely. She'd been fascinated by spanking for as long as she could remember, and had wondered what it would be like to be taken across someone's knee. There was something exciting about the painful, humiliating act that had dominated her dreams for some time.

And now, she knew that there was a person living in the same house as her that wanted to make that fantasy a reality. She was certain that the big, muscular, determined maid could give a proper spanking if she wanted. Luna began to ponder what she should do about this situation.

She glanced around. She had to admit, her room was quite messy, wasn't it?

Maid Month

Recently, I realized that the last two stories I've written for the blog (the one I uploaded last week, and the one I'll upload tomorrow) featured maids as main characters, and so did the one I had started drafting (which I plan to upload next week). This was not intentional - I have a large folder of story ideas, and picked prompts essentially at random.

 

I then discovered that April is International Spank your Maid Month, which is a fairly interesting coincidence. I've therefore decided that the last story of April will ALSO feature a maid. Though despite the theme of the month, not all of these feature maids being spanked - sometimes, they get to spank others.

The maid's magazine (M/F story)

 Alice had been employed as a maid for Mister Hollins for about seven months now, and greatly enjoyed her work. Mister Hollins' mansion was quite large, but her employer was the only occupant, and the quiet bachelor created very little work for her. She spent a few hours per day dusting and cleaning, which still left her with a lot of time for herself. The only thing she wondered at was her uniform; she didn't think a lot of women wore the classic maid's uniform these days – the black dress with the white apron – but she knew her employer was a bit of a traditionalist.

Mister Hollins was an athletic man in his late thirties, though his dark-blond hair had begun to turn grey at the temples, making him look slightly older. He was always impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, and treated his employees kindly, if formally. Alice had wondered where his money came from – was it all inheritance, or had he worked for it? He spent his days reading novels or going for long, slow walks on his rather large estate, but that didn't mean he'd always lived like that. She hadn't felt comfortable asking, though.

One day, she headed into town for a brief shopping trip. Stopping at a convenience store, she walked past the magazine aisle when something caught her eye. Among the adult magazines, she spotted one depicting a young woman in a maid's uniform bent over a well-dressed man's lap with her skirt raised and her panties lowered. Her bare bottom was bright red, but there was a blissful grin on her face. The title of the magazine was "Maid for Spanking". She stared at it, stunned and breathless, as her heart began beating rapidly. For some reason, Alice knew she had to have it. There was no resisting the sudden tingle between her legs.

The girl behind the counter gave her a strange, knowing smile as Alice placed it on the counter. Alice blushed, unable to meet her gaze – was the girl just amused that a young woman was purchasing something so naughty, or did she know who Alice was? Obviously, she wasn't wearing her uniform on a shopping trip, but there were a few people in town who knew about Mister Hollins' newest employee. Was this girl one of them? A maid purchasing a magazine about maids being spanked would certainly seem amusing. Was she making assumptions about what was going on at the mansion?

"Have fun," the girl called out as Alice fled the shop, blushing crimson and unable to utter a word in response. She hurried back to the house, eager to examine her new acquisition.

Puddles (M/F story)

Featuring the same characters as The inappropriate costume. It also ended up featuring much of the same story beats, but I still think it's worth reading.

Many people would say that a 22-year-old woman was far too old to put on her favourite boots and go jumping in puddles. Zoe would poke her tongue at these people and call them names, and then keep jumping in puddles, because it made her happy.

Zoe had been at the store to buy sweets. Wearing a lovely yellow raincoat and her best boots, she'd spotted the giant puddles everywhere and wondered if there was a reason NOT to go splashing through them. Deciding, in the end, that there wasn't, she'd spent an enjoyable half-hour skipping from puddle to puddle. When she finally made it home, she was grinning happily, bouncing into the living room to tell her boyfriend all about it without even taking her muddy boots off.

Her boyfriend, who had spent the morning cleaning, was NOT grinning when he saw it.

"Zoe," Thomas said, clearly making an effort to keep his voice calm, "Is there a reason why you still have your shoes on?"

"You should have seen the puddles!" Zoe exclaimed, too excited to notice her boyfriend's expression, or the previously-clean carpets. "They were really big!"

"Zoe, please look around you. You've dragged mud all over the house." The tall, dark-haired man loomed at least a foot over his petite ginger girlfriend, and there was a look on his face and a tone to his voice that a perceptive listener might have noticed and taken into consideration when planning her next move.

Zoe, however, was more known for her cheerfulness than her perceptiveness or common sense. "Oh? Well, whatever. Anyway, the store had gummy worms again! They ran out recently, but they're back!" She grinned.

"Zoe," Thomas said, his voice now strict enough that even Zoe picked up on it, "I've spent the entire day washing and vacuuming, and I don't appreciate that you immediately mess it up again."

She bit her lip, realizing her mistake. Knowing that the best thing to do right now would be to apologize for her mistake and promise to clean it up, Zoe decided not to do that. "You're a sourpuss and a meanie, and I'm not sharing my gummy worms with you," she said, folding her arms in front of her chest.

The pout on her face was replaced with a wince as Thomas grabbed her earlobe. As she was dragged by the ear toward the straight-backed wooden chair that her boyfriend liked to keep in the living room 'just in case', she had a horrible feeling that she knew what he was about to do – and her fears were confirmed as he sat down, tipping her over his lap.

Brief hiatus

Due to a hectic real-life schedule, and a minor throat infection, there will be no story this week or next. I plan to upload my next story during Easter, two weeks from now, if time and health permit.

Paperwork (M/F story)

Carol Rollins was a petite blonde with an attractive face, and was skilled at getting people to underestimate her. Her meteoric rise to CEO of the company had come as a shock to many, and she surprised them even more when she showed them how well she handled it. In the office, she always listened to advice, and delegated responsibility to those that showed promise, but it was never left in doubt that she was in charge.

In the bedroom, however, her tastes were rather different. She liked to let her stress and responsibilities fade away, and find some strong, dominant man to whom she could really reveal her submissive side. While she greatly enjoyed these little sessions, which left her sore-bottomed, sobbing, and satisfied, she always made sure to keep the two parts of her life completely separate, and had never been tempted to mix business with pleasure.

That is, until she noticed Jacob.

Jacob Shepherd was one of her employees – a tall, handsome man with a charming smile and an athletic build, so it was not hard to notice him. However, it was his personality that made an impression on her. Jacob had a bit of a dominant streak, and he was the first to take charge if he noticed something that needed to be done. He often counselled interns and new employees, giving them guidance and advice, and when they erred, he was strict, but fair.

At one point, Jacob had taken one of the interns aside to scold her in private for some silly mistake she'd made. Carol had wandered past, and deciding to hide and listen, she'd heard the whole speech with a grin on her face, imagining herself as the subject of his displeasure. She pictured him frowning at her with those clear, blue eyes, his deep voice lecturing her about her misdeeds.

In her mind, he would undress her verbally – and then physically. With her skirt raised and her panties lowered, Carol would be taken over his knee, where he would show his displeasure with a firm spanking on her bare bottom. She would squirm and plead for mercy, but he would not relent, ignoring her pleas and protests as he blistered her bottom. Finally, once he was satisfied that she was truly sorry, he would end the spanking and let her stand up. However, he wouldn't let her rub her burning bottom – he'd slap her hands away and tell her to stand with her nose in the corner and think about what she'd done. Meekly, she'd obey, standing on display with her hands on her head. Then, he'd take her in his strong, safe arms, comfort her, caress her, and then place her down on her own desk and ravish her until sunrise.

Waking up from her daydream, Carol discovered she was dripping wet. Hurrying to the bathroom to find some much-needed privacy, her experienced fingers began to give her relief.

The college flatmates (M/F story)

"Lane's here," Jackie told her college flatmate when the doorbell rang. She kept absent-mindedly toying with a lock of her long, red hair. "We are going to hang out in my room and listen to music. Hope you don't mind?"

"Go ahead," Cassie said, sipping her cup of tea. "I have to work on an assignment anyway – we're handing it in tomorrow. Have fun." The skinny, dark-haired goth smiled as Jackie bounced off to greet her tall, handsome boyfriend. There was only the slightest blush in Jackie's cheeks that revealed she wasn't telling the truth, but Cassie was not fooled – and the lascivious way that Lane looked as his girlfriend as they disappeared into the sanctuary of her bedroom was another strong clue.

For the first month or so after moving in, Cassie had obviously assumed that the couple were having sex whenever Lane came over, and she didn't understand why they needed to come up with excuses and play excessively loud music to drown out any noise. They were all adults, the two were in love and dating each other – why did they have to pretend?

A few weeks, however, she'd found the missing piece of the puzzle. They weren't having sex – or at least, not JUST doing that. And now, she knew why they were so eager to drown out the noise.

As the sounds of Sabaton rang out in the quiet apartment, Cassie gave the amorous couple a few minutes to get sorted before sneaking up to the door. It wasn't necessary for her to tiptoe – she could have marched over there in army boots, and they wouldn't have heard a thing – but she did it anyway, because she felt it was appropriate.

Kneeling down, she placed her eye to the keyhole. Lane was sitting on Jackie's bed with something almost resembling a scowl on his face, lecturing his girlfriend, though through the door, Cassie obviously couldn't hear a word that was being said over the music. Jackie was standing in front of him, fidgeting slightly in a passable impression of a naughty girl pretending to be sorry for whatever she'd done.

After a few minutes, Lane reached forward, grabbing his girlfriend's hand. The young woman was dragged over her boyfriend's knee with only token efforts to resist. With her head and torso resting on the bed and her long legs touching the floor, Jackie's bottom was centred over her boyfriend's lap. With unconcealed joy, he lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing a pair of black satin panties, and began to caress her bottom. Then, he lifted his hand high in the air.

The cellphone picture (M/F story)

Stephen sighed as he thumbed through the stack of reports, trying to find the one that was actually relevant. The blond barrel-chested man in his thirties was sitting in a meeting room, preparing a presentation on a customer with Rachel, one of his coworkers, and there was a lot of old data to go through. It didn't seem to bother Rachel much, though – she had a sunny disposition.

His phone, which was lying on the table, buzzed with an incoming message. After a few seconds, Rachel looked over at him. The tall, well-dressed woman with the long, curly red hair raised an eyebrow.  "Aren't you going to see what it was?"

"It can wait. I'm trying to find the right file," he said absently, still working his way through the reports.

"It could be important," she suggested. "Or urgent!"

"If it was urgent or important, they would have called," he said drily.

"Come on, aren't you curious?" she ribbed. When he shook his head, she declared, "Well, I am!" And before he could react, she'd picked up the phone. "Oh, it's a picture! Someone sent you – " She went quiet, and for a few seconds, she stared wide-eyed at the screen. Blushing furiously, she placed the phone slowly down on the table, then walked out of the room, deliberately avoiding eye-contact. On her second try, she got the door open, and she almost managed to avoid walking into the doorframe on her way out. Her footsteps disappeared down the hall.

It was with a certain feeling of trepidation that Stephen picked up the phone.

The text had come from Molly. It was a picture of her bare bottom, coloured red and then beautifully decorated with cane lines that had just begun to bruise. It was accompanied by the words "Look what you did to my butt, you brute :-) Can I call you for another set once this one has faded?" A lovely text to receive from the petite imp, but not one he was eager for his female coworkers to see.

Spanked by her boss (M/F story)

Brian sighed to himself as he watched the woman standing on the other side of his desk, wringing her hands awkwardly. Blushing and staring at the floor, unable to meet his gaze, the tall, skinny, blonde thirty-year-old looked for all the world like a schoolgirl before her headmaster.

He sighed; it never felt good to have to fire an employee, and the fact that Annabel was his wife's best friend did not make it easier. "You know why I've called you in here," he said.

She nodded, her face showing just how miserable and nervous she was.

"When you go out on the town with clients to celebrate a big contract, we would expect you to drink in moderation," he said drily. "Getting absolutely hammered? Dancing on the table? Being a little TOO honest with some of our favourite clients?" The dark-haired, athletic man looked at his notes. There was also a rumour that she'd taken her shirt off, but he decided not to ask. He didn't want to know, and he suspected that she wasn't too eager to talk about it either.

Annabel wet her lips, but it seemed she still found nothing to say. She was also still staring at the floor.

"I've got Johnny doing damage control. He MIGHT be able to salvage the deal, but it's going to take a lot, even for him." He paused. "You know what I have to do, don't you?"

Somehow, she managed to hang her head even lower. "I'm fired, aren't I?"

"Can you give me a good reason why I shouldn't?" he said calmly. It wasn't a rhetorical question; he really, REALLY wanted her to find some reason why she should keep her job. He'd tried, but had come up empty.

"I'm very sorry, Mister Leyton," she said, finally meeting his gaze. "I'll never do it again!"

"I didn't think you WOULD do it again – I still can't believe you did it at all," he said. "Not good enough, I'm afraid."

"Carol's not going to like it if I lose my job," she said, then paled and took a step back when she saw the expression on his face.

"How DARE you!" he snapped, feeling his calm demeanour slipping away. "How dare you bring her name into this!" With an effort, he managed to bring his emotions under control. "I'm well aware of your close friendship with my wife," he said as calmly as he could. "But it's not relevant to this situation, and it cannot affect our working relationship." He frowned as something suddenly occurred to him. "On the other hand, if you think I'm letting it affect my judgement negatively – that I'm treating you unduly harshly – I'm happy to send this matter to Jane, and let her make the final call."

Annabel shook her head. "I'm very sorry, sir. I shouldn't have brought it up." He nodded; he certainly agreed with that. "But isn't there anything I can do, sir?" she begged. "Isn't there any way to keep my job?"

He shrugged. "If there is, I can't find it."

For a few seconds, her gaze drifted, as if she was deep in thought. Seeming to make up her mind, she swallowed and looked at him. "You know, Carol has told me a lot about you and your private life."

He raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. She wasn't doing herself any favours by bringing up his wife again, and if she was trying to blackmail him or something like that, he would make sure she regretted it.

"She's talked about her… punishments," Annabel said, licking dry lips and squirming under his cold gaze.

"What did she say?" he said calmly.

Blistered bookworm (M/f story)

"Hello, Mister Becker," Jessica said cheerfully to the school librarian as she approached his desk. The young woman was carrying a large bag crammed full of books. "I'm here to borrow some books – and to return these."

"So I see," Mr Becker commented drily.  "And just two weeks late this time – instead of your usual month."

Jessica blushed. The eager bookworm was a bit absent-minded, and she had a tendency to forget about return dates. Mr Becker had scolded the petite brunette for it more than once. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd remember this time, but I guess I didn't," she said with a wince. "Same fine as usual?"

"That's correct, but I'm afraid that's not all." The tall, dark-haired man in his early thirties steepled his fingers, looking severely at the teenaged miscreant. "I'm afraid you've been late too many times, Jessica. You've proven yourself unreliable. Per school rules, you are banned from bringing any books home."

"I'm sorry?" Jessica said, blinking in confusion. He couldn't have said what she thought she'd heard, could he?

"I'm sorry too, Jessica," he said, his expression not changing. "But those are the rules, and I see no reason to make an exception in this case."

"I'm banned from the library!?" Jessica stared at him in horror, trying to process this terrible development. "Please, Mr Becker. You can't do this!" she pleaded pitifully.

"You're not banned from the library" he told her, trying to calm her down. "You can still come here and read – you just can't take any of the books home with you."

"Please, sir," Jessica pleaded. Tears were running down her face, but she didn't care. "Please. I need this library. I promise I'll do better. I'll return the books on time from now on! I'll pay DOUBLE the fine. I'll do anything – just don't ban me!"