Scarlett wiped perspiration from her brow, wishing she could have worn something a little less warm than her maid costume while working on a hot day like this.
Lady Bowman's good friend Baroness Starr was coming for an extended visit, accompanied by her nephew Jacob. Scarlett and the other employees had been told to prepare the manor for the grand visit, and Scarlett was dusting the bedrooms. She'd finished the suite that the Baroness would be staying in, and was now working on Mister Starr's quarters. There wasn't a lot left to do, but she was now quite tired, and was longing for a rest.
Glancing at one of the comfy chairs, she desperately wanted to sit down for a few minutes. Well, why not? She had more than an hour to finish cleaning before the guests arrived, which was far more than she needed. As she sat down, making herself comfortable on the soft chair, she decided that she'd sit here for a short while – five minutes, not more – just to get her strength back.
She awoke to the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. Jerking awake, the disoriented woman looked around the room, trying to get her bearings. A handsome, red-haired man was sitting on the bed opposite her, watching her with an amused grin on his face and a decanter and drinking glass in his hands. From the expensive clothes he was wearing, she guessed it was the Baroness' nephew.
"Ah, you're awake," he said good-humouredly. "It's been..." he glanced at his watch. "Five minutes since I entered the room, and you haven't stirred once. You must have been tired." He handed her the glass. "Some brandy to help you wake up."
Scarlett jumped to her feet, hastily trying to straighten the skirt of her uniform in a vain attempt to give a better first impression by appearing more presentable. "I am terribly sorry, sir! I didn't mean to fall asleep on the job – I just thought I'd rest for a few minutes!"
He chuckled. It was apparent that he found the whole situation quite amusing. "Oh, it turned out to be a little more than that – but that just shows you needed it."
He still held the glass in her direction, and Scarlett attempted to wave it away. "Oh, that brandy is not for the servants, Jacob. Mister Starr, I mean!" she quickly corrected herself, silently berating herself. Referring to Lady Bowman's honoured guests by their first name would not be popular with her employer.
"It was a gift from the Lady to myself, which means I can do with it whatever I want – and I'm giving you a glass", he said calmly. "Now be a good girl and drink. I think you need that as well."
Reluctantly, Scarlett accepted the glass. She put it to her lips, coughing as the unfamiliar liquid burned her throat. Maids were obviously not permitted to drink the Lady's expensive brandy, and unlike some of her fellow maids, Scarlett had never been courageous enough to try to steal some.
"There. Do you feel better now? Properly awake?" his eyes sparkled with mirth as he took the glass from her hand and placed it next to the decanter on the nightstand. She nodded. "What is your name?"
"Scarlett, sir," she answered, wondering why in the world this rich man wanted to know the maid's name. A dreadful suspicion suddenly struck her, and she held her hands pleadingly out at him. "Oh, please don't tell Lady Bowman that I fell asleep on the job! I couldn't bear it if she found out."
"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "What would happen? Would the old lady take you over her knee and spank your little bottom?"
Lady Bowman's good friend Baroness Starr was coming for an extended visit, accompanied by her nephew Jacob. Scarlett and the other employees had been told to prepare the manor for the grand visit, and Scarlett was dusting the bedrooms. She'd finished the suite that the Baroness would be staying in, and was now working on Mister Starr's quarters. There wasn't a lot left to do, but she was now quite tired, and was longing for a rest.
Glancing at one of the comfy chairs, she desperately wanted to sit down for a few minutes. Well, why not? She had more than an hour to finish cleaning before the guests arrived, which was far more than she needed. As she sat down, making herself comfortable on the soft chair, she decided that she'd sit here for a short while – five minutes, not more – just to get her strength back.
She awoke to the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. Jerking awake, the disoriented woman looked around the room, trying to get her bearings. A handsome, red-haired man was sitting on the bed opposite her, watching her with an amused grin on his face and a decanter and drinking glass in his hands. From the expensive clothes he was wearing, she guessed it was the Baroness' nephew.
"Ah, you're awake," he said good-humouredly. "It's been..." he glanced at his watch. "Five minutes since I entered the room, and you haven't stirred once. You must have been tired." He handed her the glass. "Some brandy to help you wake up."
Scarlett jumped to her feet, hastily trying to straighten the skirt of her uniform in a vain attempt to give a better first impression by appearing more presentable. "I am terribly sorry, sir! I didn't mean to fall asleep on the job – I just thought I'd rest for a few minutes!"
He chuckled. It was apparent that he found the whole situation quite amusing. "Oh, it turned out to be a little more than that – but that just shows you needed it."
He still held the glass in her direction, and Scarlett attempted to wave it away. "Oh, that brandy is not for the servants, Jacob. Mister Starr, I mean!" she quickly corrected herself, silently berating herself. Referring to Lady Bowman's honoured guests by their first name would not be popular with her employer.
"It was a gift from the Lady to myself, which means I can do with it whatever I want – and I'm giving you a glass", he said calmly. "Now be a good girl and drink. I think you need that as well."
Reluctantly, Scarlett accepted the glass. She put it to her lips, coughing as the unfamiliar liquid burned her throat. Maids were obviously not permitted to drink the Lady's expensive brandy, and unlike some of her fellow maids, Scarlett had never been courageous enough to try to steal some.
"There. Do you feel better now? Properly awake?" his eyes sparkled with mirth as he took the glass from her hand and placed it next to the decanter on the nightstand. She nodded. "What is your name?"
"Scarlett, sir," she answered, wondering why in the world this rich man wanted to know the maid's name. A dreadful suspicion suddenly struck her, and she held her hands pleadingly out at him. "Oh, please don't tell Lady Bowman that I fell asleep on the job! I couldn't bear it if she found out."
"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "What would happen? Would the old lady take you over her knee and spank your little bottom?"
"What?" she said, blushing at the thought. "Of course not! She'd fire me – or at least dock my pay."
He tutted, before giving her a friendly, teasing smile. "A pity. I'm sure that if you got your bottom warmed, you wouldn't be sitting down on the job."
His words made her blush even more, but she was still more worried about her job than her rear. "Please don't tell her," she begged. "Please, sir, I'll do anything!"
He shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't want to be the cause of a young lady getting fired just for taking a rest. Don't worry, my lips are sealed." He patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Now, I suggest you run along. I've had a long journey, and wish to have a little nap before dinner. I was going to lie down on the bed, but that chair looks very comfortable – as you've amply demonstrated."
As Scarlett left the room, the handsome man waved goodbye, still chuckling to himself.
Over the next few days, Scarlett occasionally saw Mister Starr out walking with his aunt, or having tea with Her Ladyship, or browsing the books in the library. Every time he spotted her, there was a merry glint in his eyes, as if their encounter still amused him. True to his word, he had said nothing to her employer.
However, Scarlett couldn't get his comment about having her 'little bottom' spanked out of his mind. From his comments, and from the way he'd looked at her, it seemed he found it an enticing prospect – and if she had to be truthful, so did she. Not from her employer, of course, but Mister Starr was quite another matter. She hadn't been spanked since she was a little girl, but the prospect of finding herself upended over the handsome man's lap, with her bottom bare and at his mercy, made her blush and fidget.
She started to imagine returning to her bedroom to find the grinning man waiting for her. He would tell her that he'd changed his mind, and that he would inform Lady Bowman about her delinquency in falling asleep and calling him by his first name. She'd beg him not to tell, and he'd offer her another choice: A bare-bottom spanking over his knee. She would blush and protest, appealing to his mercy, but he would stand firm.
With no other option, she would bend over his firm thighs, and he would lift her skirt and lower her underwear. Placing his hand on her pale, quivering cheeks, he would spank her soundly, until she was squirming, crying, and promising to be good. Finally, once she'd been thoroughly chastened, he'd help her up, kissing her while running his fingers through her long, dark hair. Then, he would place her on her back on her own bed, undress himself, part her legs, and enter her, with a natural ease as if she was his property.
These fantasies, which became more and more frequent as the days passed, made it somewhat difficult to meet his eyes when she encountered him in the hallway, so she was glad that employees were not expected to have conversations with guests.
One evening, Jacob Starr was sitting at the desk in his room, writing a letter, when he heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find the cute, dark-haired maid fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, nervously glancing around her to make sure she wasn't being observed. However, even when she looked at him, she was avoiding eye-contact.
"Hello, Scarlett. Is everything OK? You seem a bit flustered," he said, his voice full of concern.
"May I come in, sir? I... I'd like to talk to you about something."
He nodded, stepping aside to let her in. He directed her to the comfy chair, and as she sat down, he offered her a glass of brandy. She seemed about to refuse, but changed her mind. Her hand shook as she held the glass, and she drained it in a single gulp. Once she'd stopped coughing, she looked toward him, but was still unable to look him in the face.
After a few moments, she finally summoned the courage to speak. "Sir? Do you remember when I begged you not to tell Her Ladyship that I'd fallen asleep?"
"Of course," he replied. "You told me that she'd dock your pay or fire you. She hasn't found out somehow, has she?"
Scarlett shook her head. "No, she hasn't. Do... do you remember what your suggestion was? For what should happen to me?"
He grinned. "I seem to recall that I thought you ought to have your bottom smacked – and I still do, for that matter."
She looked down at her empty glass. "So do I," she whispered. Her gaze remained locked at her hands, until she could no longer resist the urge to glance up at his face and see his reaction to her scandalous statement.
Mister Starr was watching her with an expression of amusement, mixed with desire. "Well. This is a pleasant surprise, I must say." He stepped forward, gently caressing her face. "You agree that you are a naughty girl that needs a good spanking?" She nodded, smiling blissfully at his touch. "And since you come to my room late in the evening, presumably you think I'm the one that should give it to you? Right now?" She blushed, gazing at the floor, but nodded again.
Grinning lasciviously, he helped her to her feet. "Let's do something about that, shall we?" He led her over to the bed. He sat down, gently guiding her over his lap. She fidgeted, burying her face in the pillow as he raised her skirt.
"Oh my. These are some attractive panties – on a very sexy bottom," he said as he patted the seat of her black lace knickers. She blushed as he began to caress her backside. "Are you ready for your spanking, young lady?" he asked.
Scarlett was not entirely sure whether she wanted him to continue rubbing or just get started, but she nodded. "Yes, sir," she managed to whisper.
As his hand started to smack down on her rear end, Scarlett let out a surprised yelp. It had been many years since she'd last been over someone's knee, and she'd never been spanked in a situation like this, so she hadn't been entirely sure what to expect. It stung more than she'd been prepared for, but it was also far more wonderful than she'd ever dreamed of.
"Are you OK? Do you like this?" he asked, his voice revealing a touch of concern, though he hadn't stopped spanking her.
"It's lovely," she admitted, before blushing and burying her face in the pillow again.
Chuckling at her reaction, he continued to move his hand from cheek to cheek, giving her slow, sensual spanks that still managed to impart quite a sting. She was wriggling around with every smack, clenching and unclenching her cheeks, and was unable to prevent a moan from escaping her lips.
"Are you going to be a good girl from now on, Scarlett? Are you sorry for your misdeeds?" he scolded in a teasing tone.
Scarlett didn't know where it had come from, but there was suddenly an impish side of her that wanted to tease him back, and she couldn't hold it back. "No!" she said, looking over her shoulder and poking her tongue out at him. "In fact, I barely feel it!"
He tutted. "Then maybe these panties provide too much protection," he said, placing his hand on the thin, flimsy garment. She bit her lip, blushing, but was unable to utter either protest or approval as he placed his fingers in the waistband.
With slow, deliberate movements, he lowered her knickers to her knees, baring her bottom to his approving eyes. He lifted his hand and continued to spank her, grinning at her renewed yelps.
She was squirming around, kicking her legs at every firm smack, but not a single word of protest escaped her lips. Despite the pain, she'd never experienced anything more wonderful than being over this attractive man's knee, bared and at his mercy. His hand struck every part of her aching bottom, painting her once-pale cheeks bright red, and as she tossed around on his lap, she realized that she was more wet than she'd ever been in her life.
He began to scold her again, his tone darkly teasing, but she had no idea what he was saying. The only thing she could focus on was the growing sting in her tender posterior.
Finally, once the burning in her buns made her whimper, and tears began to roll down her face, he stopped spanking. Comfortingly rubbing her hot bottom, he eventually helped her up, and held her in his arms as she calmed down. She buried her face in his chest, grinning blissfully.
Eventually, he pulled her away and started to caress her face again, gazing into her eyes. "Now, young lady, I could carry you back to your bedroom and tuck you in, and you could fall asleep with a toasty backside to keep you warm… or you could stay here in my room, where there is also a perfectly good bed." He grinned lasciviously, and there was no doubt in her mind what he was offering. "Which would you like?"
She gazed demurely down, fluttering her eyelashes. "That's not a choice a young lady of my station should make, sir. You should do whatever you prefer," she said, hoping desperately that he realized what she wanted with every fibre of her being.
And to her eternal delight, he did. He placed her down on the bed, kissing her passionately as he began to disrobe – the prelude to a night of pleasure that she'd never forget.
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