It was interesting to me just how many of the young women at the mansion found Caleb to be the most attractive man around. There was nothing glamorous or interesting about his work as a stableboy, and it meant that when he was around, the musk of sweat was often mixed with the stench of horse , which was not the most fragrant of smells. However, he was quite good-looking – made even more so by the roguish smile he had long ago perfected. And many of the maids and kitchen staff were very interested in a man with a strong physique, built up by years of manual labour, who was good with his hands. And if the rumours that were whispered in the corners of the mansion were true, Caleb was VERY good with his hands.
And as the youngest daughter of the Count, it would just be my duty to investigate those rumours, wouldn't it?
On one particularly fine Friday evening, when the moon was full and there was a delightful breeze in the air, I had concealed myself in the stables. I found myself here because I had observed Caleb wandering with a young woman – presumably, his next conquest – and had decided to head to the one place I knew they would eventually end up. Assuming the rumours were true, of course. I had been there for about half an hour when I heard his voice, accompanied by feminine giggles. He entered the stable, leading a lanky, redhaired girl I recognized as Maggie, the gardener's assistant. There was a blush on her cheek, and her attempt at a demure air did little to conceal her eagerness. His smile was friendly, confident, and lascivious, as if he considered himself close to getting his wish.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said, giggling again. "I shouldn't be here."
"I can take you back to the house, if you wish," he offered gallantly, but she shook her head, smiling.
"I can't believe this," she repeated. "Is it true what they say about you?"
He shrugged, as if it was all the same to him. "That depends on what they say."
"You know," she insisted, but he made no sign of understanding her. "That you like to take young women across your lap and ...that you ..." She blushed, stumbling over her words, unable to complete her sentence, but there was a nervous grin on her face.
He smiled, offering her his hand. "Care to find out?"
With no hesitation, she took his hand, and he led her up to the hayloft. From here, they would be safe from unwanted eyes – they could watch the entrance, but no one would be able to climb the ladder to spy on them without them noticing.
Unless, of course, the spy were to climb it BEFORE they arrived, and then conceal herself. Say, about half an hour before.
And as the youngest daughter of the Count, it would just be my duty to investigate those rumours, wouldn't it?
On one particularly fine Friday evening, when the moon was full and there was a delightful breeze in the air, I had concealed myself in the stables. I found myself here because I had observed Caleb wandering with a young woman – presumably, his next conquest – and had decided to head to the one place I knew they would eventually end up. Assuming the rumours were true, of course. I had been there for about half an hour when I heard his voice, accompanied by feminine giggles. He entered the stable, leading a lanky, redhaired girl I recognized as Maggie, the gardener's assistant. There was a blush on her cheek, and her attempt at a demure air did little to conceal her eagerness. His smile was friendly, confident, and lascivious, as if he considered himself close to getting his wish.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said, giggling again. "I shouldn't be here."
"I can take you back to the house, if you wish," he offered gallantly, but she shook her head, smiling.
"I can't believe this," she repeated. "Is it true what they say about you?"
He shrugged, as if it was all the same to him. "That depends on what they say."
"You know," she insisted, but he made no sign of understanding her. "That you like to take young women across your lap and ...that you ..." She blushed, stumbling over her words, unable to complete her sentence, but there was a nervous grin on her face.
He smiled, offering her his hand. "Care to find out?"
With no hesitation, she took his hand, and he led her up to the hayloft. From here, they would be safe from unwanted eyes – they could watch the entrance, but no one would be able to climb the ladder to spy on them without them noticing.
Unless, of course, the spy were to climb it BEFORE they arrived, and then conceal herself. Say, about half an hour before.
Caleb sat down on a bale of hay. Giving Maggie a quick peck on the lips, he then gently bent her over his lap, her torso resting on the hay while her long legs hung down. She bit her lip nervously, but made no protests or attempts to resist, not even for show. She was wearing a long, unflattering woollen skirt, and he patted the seat gently.
"Are you ready?" he asked in a gentle voice. When she nodded, he lifted his hand and began to spank her.
He started off slowly and gently, delivering light pats accompanied by soft caresses. There was a nervous look on her face, but she was giggling. Gradually, he spanked harder, and she was soon shifting around on his lap. He'd only spanked her a few minutes when he took hold of the hem of her skirt, slowly raising it to her waist to reveal a pair of white cotton underwear – old, and almost as unflattering as the skirt, but he still complemented her, and when she buried her face in the hay again, there was a grin on her face.
He spanked her harder now, his hand going from cheek to cheek at a rapid pace. The occasional "Ouch" or "Ow" escaped her lips, and she kicked her legs when a particular firm slap landed on the lower parts of her bottom.
"Oh! It stings," she whispered.
"It's supposed to," he said with a chuckle. "Would you like me to stop?"
She shook her head. "It's lovely. It burns, but in a good way. Do you know what I mean?"
She was squirming around on his lap by the time he placed his fingers in the waistband of her underwear. There was a sharp intake of breath, but she offered no word of protest as he gently lowered them, revealing her bare bottom.
"Is it very red?" she asked.
"A bit pink," he told her truthfully, and then reached forward to caress her chin. "We still have a long way to go before it's as red as your lovely face." This caused her to blush even more.
When he started to spank her bare bottom, he slapped hard and fast, and she was yelping and kicking every time his palm landed on her stinging rear. Her pink bottom was gradually being covered with red handprints, and there were tears on her cheeks. A moan passed her lips, but it was not from the pain. Not JUST from the pain, at least.
Finally, once the girl was almost ready to break down sobbing, he lifted her up and sat her down on his lap. He comforted her, whispering soothingly to her, while removing the tears from her face with his kisses. Despite the pain, she was beaming. When she'd calmed down, the hand that had been stroking hair moved slowly down her body, caressing her as it travelled, and as it approached her sex, she eagerly spread her legs. I realized that Caleb was about to demonstrate the OTHER reason why the girls said he was good with his hands.
It was at this point, with his fingers almost at the entrance of her most secret place, I thought it was best to step forward.
"What is going on here?" I said in my most authoritative voice, stepping out from my hiding place. Caleb spun around, and Maggie squealed, leapt to her feet, and pulled her panties up.
"Lady Penelope!" Maggie said, her face pale as she recognized me. "We were just – I mean, Caleb was just showing me -"
"Thank you, Maggie, I can see what you were doing," I said icily. "Not the sort of thing you'd wish my father to hear about, is it? If you wish to keep your job, that is."
Maggie stared at me, her eyes wide. She seemed eager to plead for mercy, but could think of nothing to say. Caleb, however, seemed remarkably calm. He was still sitting down, and there was no fear, panic, anger, or anything of the sort in the gaze he sent me. He seemed idly curious about what I'd do next, but that was it.
"Maggie, go back to your room, please. I wish to have a talk with Caleb." The terrified girl hastened to obey, and would probably spend the rest of the evening sitting in her room, worrying about her future. I had no intention of telling anyone what I'd seen, but I saw no reason to tell her that.
Once the girl was gone, I looked at Caleb. "Nothing to say for yourself?"
He shrugged, still eerily calm. His passivity annoyed me. I'd hoped to see him shamed, angered, scared – to see the eternally calm Caleb knocked off his perch. But when he regarded me with those thoughtful eyes, I saw none of that. "What do you want me to say?" he said with a shrug.
"You could beg me not to tell my father," I suggested.
"Yeah, I was wondering about that," he said. "Neither one of us were on duty, and we did no damage to any property of his. Why exactly would he care?"
I frowned. "Sexual liaisons between employees is strictly against – "
"The purpose of those rules, Miss Penelope, is to protect young women from getting pregnant out of wedlock," he said, as relaxed as before He lifted his hand, wagging his fingers. "I've been told many times that my hands are magical, but that's one trick they haven't learned yet."
"Yes, 'many times'. You've seduced a lot of women in my father's employ, haven't you? Is there any young lady at this mansion you haven't led up here?"
His gaze travelled across me, from the top of my hair to my shoes. There was something indecent in the gaze he gave me. I blushed, despite my best efforts not to. "There are some," he said noncommittally.
This evening had not gone as planned. I had hoped to unsettle Caleb, to see a crack in that armour of indifference. Then, when he thought his future was in danger, I'd make him a very unexpected offer – my silence for a personal demonstration of his skills. But he was still calm, and if I made my indecent suggestion, it was painfully clear he would not find it surprising. Part of me wanted to stomp off, to deny him the pleasure of the offer.
However, as loath as I was to admit it, I was still eager for a taste of those skills. "Well, since we're here... I don't suppose you would be willing to..." I licked my lips, trying my best to form a coherent sentence. Where had my confidence gone? "I think I would very much like to ..."
"Come here," he ordered, crooking his finger. I immediately approached him, and he pointed to the floor. "Kneel."
I did as instructed. It was only when I was down on my knees, looking up at his face, that I remembered that I was supposed to be the one in charge around here. I found it very hard not to obey this young man.
He reached forward, gently caressing the side of my face. "So, you want a spanking from me? You wish to go through the same thing you just saw Maggie experience, when you hid and spied like a naughty child?" I blushed, but nodded eagerly. A slight frown marred his face. "Use your words, Penelope."
"Yes," I told him. The thought of chiding him for omitting the 'Lady' from my name never even crossed my mind at the time. "Yes, I would. Please," I added, hoping that it would help.
He grabbed my arm and dragged me forcefully across his lap. My stomach was resting on his strong thighs, my legs touching the floor, and his hand patted the seat of my evening dress. "You weren't as rough as this with Maggie," I complained.
"When Maggie wanted a spanking, she approached me like a woman. She didn't play silly, childish games," he scolded. "But don't worry. I'll start gently."
He started to slap the seat of my dress. True to his word, it was slow and gentle, like the softest of kisses upon my nether cheeks. He caressed and spanked, spanked and caressed, and I grinned to myself. This was even better than I had so often imagined.
Like before, the spanks gradually came harder and faster, and I was soon fidgeting. A particularly hard spank caused me to yelp. "Ouch! That stings," I protested.
He chuckled. "It seems you are more delicate and sensitive than the other girls that have had the pleasure of my skills," he commented. "I should have expected as much from such a high-born lady. Well, I'll be gentler then."
"Don't you dare," I said as I glared up at him – though in my present position, I don't expect he found it particularly intimidating. "Treat me just the same as the others. I want the same spanking they got."
He chuckled again – it seemed he found some amusement in the situation, though it entirely escaped me. "Well, if you insist..." He continued to spank, delivering a hard series of smacks to the lower parts of my bottom that made me kick my legs. I tried my best to be brave, to maintain the dignity demanded of my station, but I was soon yelping with every smack.
He grabbed the hem of my dress, lifting it to my waist. His hand rubbed in circles on the seat of my black silk panties. "How soft and beautiful," he commented.
"Yes, I don't expect you see clothes like these on most of the girls you spank," I replied haughtily.
"I wasn't referring to the garment," he said drily. I blushed, burying my face in the hay. How could a dirty, low-class man like this make me feel this way?
As he continued to spank me, I realized how much protection the dress had provided – the sting was now far greater. As I yelped and kicked, I began to wonder how I'd make it through the rest of the spanking; from what I remembered, Maggie's spanking had barely begun by the time her skirt was raised.
The burning sting in my backside grew stronger with every smack, and I was squirming over his lap, crying out every time his palm landed, all thoughts of stoic dignity long gone. It was hard to believe that I'd asked for this – but despite the pain, I could feel myself growing wetter with every smack as well.
When he placed his fingers in the waistband of my panties, there was a brief pause, as if he was savouring the moment – I'm sure it wasn't every day that he bared the bottom of a nobleman's daughter. Slowly, as if uncovering a treasure, he lowered my panties to my knees, rubbing my bare bottom with an appreciative murmur.
Suddenly, he lifted his hand and swatted, and I howled as he continued the spanking. I hadn't expected the thin silk garment to provide as much protection as it did, but I was unprepared for the sting of a real bare-bottom spanking. I squirmed, I kicked, I howled. My face was streaked with tears – but it wasn't the only part of me getting wet.
When he stopped spanking me, I had a vague feeling he had been going easy on me – it certainly FELT a lot longer than Maggie's spanking, but I don't think I would have survived what he'd given her. Anyway, I felt too relieved to care. When he seated me on his lap and began to comfort me, I spread my legs for him, like a shameless hussy – I'd heard the stories, and I'd seen what he was about to do to Maggie, and I couldn't wait for him to do the same to me.
He chuckled. "Oh, you think so, do you?"
To my shock and horror, he pushed me off his lap. I howled as I landed in an undignified heap on the floor, my burning bottom slamming against the hard wood, and looked at him in wounded confusion.
"You refused to let me comfort Maggie when she needed me – so I'm choosing to refuse you the same pleasure. Good night, Penelope." And he started to walk away.
"Come back here this instant!" I shouted angrily. "Caleb, come back! You can't do this to me! I deserve better than this!" He continued to walk away, clearly not impressed with my outburst. "Caleb, please! I need you," I begged. "You can't leave me here like this!"
But despite my pleas and protests, he was gone, leaving me sobbing in pain, half-naked and tired, feeling hornier than I'd ever been in my life.
"Are you ready?" he asked in a gentle voice. When she nodded, he lifted his hand and began to spank her.
He started off slowly and gently, delivering light pats accompanied by soft caresses. There was a nervous look on her face, but she was giggling. Gradually, he spanked harder, and she was soon shifting around on his lap. He'd only spanked her a few minutes when he took hold of the hem of her skirt, slowly raising it to her waist to reveal a pair of white cotton underwear – old, and almost as unflattering as the skirt, but he still complemented her, and when she buried her face in the hay again, there was a grin on her face.
He spanked her harder now, his hand going from cheek to cheek at a rapid pace. The occasional "Ouch" or "Ow" escaped her lips, and she kicked her legs when a particular firm slap landed on the lower parts of her bottom.
"Oh! It stings," she whispered.
"It's supposed to," he said with a chuckle. "Would you like me to stop?"
She shook her head. "It's lovely. It burns, but in a good way. Do you know what I mean?"
She was squirming around on his lap by the time he placed his fingers in the waistband of her underwear. There was a sharp intake of breath, but she offered no word of protest as he gently lowered them, revealing her bare bottom.
"Is it very red?" she asked.
"A bit pink," he told her truthfully, and then reached forward to caress her chin. "We still have a long way to go before it's as red as your lovely face." This caused her to blush even more.
When he started to spank her bare bottom, he slapped hard and fast, and she was yelping and kicking every time his palm landed on her stinging rear. Her pink bottom was gradually being covered with red handprints, and there were tears on her cheeks. A moan passed her lips, but it was not from the pain. Not JUST from the pain, at least.
Finally, once the girl was almost ready to break down sobbing, he lifted her up and sat her down on his lap. He comforted her, whispering soothingly to her, while removing the tears from her face with his kisses. Despite the pain, she was beaming. When she'd calmed down, the hand that had been stroking hair moved slowly down her body, caressing her as it travelled, and as it approached her sex, she eagerly spread her legs. I realized that Caleb was about to demonstrate the OTHER reason why the girls said he was good with his hands.
It was at this point, with his fingers almost at the entrance of her most secret place, I thought it was best to step forward.
"What is going on here?" I said in my most authoritative voice, stepping out from my hiding place. Caleb spun around, and Maggie squealed, leapt to her feet, and pulled her panties up.
"Lady Penelope!" Maggie said, her face pale as she recognized me. "We were just – I mean, Caleb was just showing me -"
"Thank you, Maggie, I can see what you were doing," I said icily. "Not the sort of thing you'd wish my father to hear about, is it? If you wish to keep your job, that is."
Maggie stared at me, her eyes wide. She seemed eager to plead for mercy, but could think of nothing to say. Caleb, however, seemed remarkably calm. He was still sitting down, and there was no fear, panic, anger, or anything of the sort in the gaze he sent me. He seemed idly curious about what I'd do next, but that was it.
"Maggie, go back to your room, please. I wish to have a talk with Caleb." The terrified girl hastened to obey, and would probably spend the rest of the evening sitting in her room, worrying about her future. I had no intention of telling anyone what I'd seen, but I saw no reason to tell her that.
Once the girl was gone, I looked at Caleb. "Nothing to say for yourself?"
He shrugged, still eerily calm. His passivity annoyed me. I'd hoped to see him shamed, angered, scared – to see the eternally calm Caleb knocked off his perch. But when he regarded me with those thoughtful eyes, I saw none of that. "What do you want me to say?" he said with a shrug.
"You could beg me not to tell my father," I suggested.
"Yeah, I was wondering about that," he said. "Neither one of us were on duty, and we did no damage to any property of his. Why exactly would he care?"
I frowned. "Sexual liaisons between employees is strictly against – "
"The purpose of those rules, Miss Penelope, is to protect young women from getting pregnant out of wedlock," he said, as relaxed as before He lifted his hand, wagging his fingers. "I've been told many times that my hands are magical, but that's one trick they haven't learned yet."
"Yes, 'many times'. You've seduced a lot of women in my father's employ, haven't you? Is there any young lady at this mansion you haven't led up here?"
His gaze travelled across me, from the top of my hair to my shoes. There was something indecent in the gaze he gave me. I blushed, despite my best efforts not to. "There are some," he said noncommittally.
This evening had not gone as planned. I had hoped to unsettle Caleb, to see a crack in that armour of indifference. Then, when he thought his future was in danger, I'd make him a very unexpected offer – my silence for a personal demonstration of his skills. But he was still calm, and if I made my indecent suggestion, it was painfully clear he would not find it surprising. Part of me wanted to stomp off, to deny him the pleasure of the offer.
However, as loath as I was to admit it, I was still eager for a taste of those skills. "Well, since we're here... I don't suppose you would be willing to..." I licked my lips, trying my best to form a coherent sentence. Where had my confidence gone? "I think I would very much like to ..."
"Come here," he ordered, crooking his finger. I immediately approached him, and he pointed to the floor. "Kneel."
I did as instructed. It was only when I was down on my knees, looking up at his face, that I remembered that I was supposed to be the one in charge around here. I found it very hard not to obey this young man.
He reached forward, gently caressing the side of my face. "So, you want a spanking from me? You wish to go through the same thing you just saw Maggie experience, when you hid and spied like a naughty child?" I blushed, but nodded eagerly. A slight frown marred his face. "Use your words, Penelope."
"Yes," I told him. The thought of chiding him for omitting the 'Lady' from my name never even crossed my mind at the time. "Yes, I would. Please," I added, hoping that it would help.
He grabbed my arm and dragged me forcefully across his lap. My stomach was resting on his strong thighs, my legs touching the floor, and his hand patted the seat of my evening dress. "You weren't as rough as this with Maggie," I complained.
"When Maggie wanted a spanking, she approached me like a woman. She didn't play silly, childish games," he scolded. "But don't worry. I'll start gently."
He started to slap the seat of my dress. True to his word, it was slow and gentle, like the softest of kisses upon my nether cheeks. He caressed and spanked, spanked and caressed, and I grinned to myself. This was even better than I had so often imagined.
Like before, the spanks gradually came harder and faster, and I was soon fidgeting. A particularly hard spank caused me to yelp. "Ouch! That stings," I protested.
He chuckled. "It seems you are more delicate and sensitive than the other girls that have had the pleasure of my skills," he commented. "I should have expected as much from such a high-born lady. Well, I'll be gentler then."
"Don't you dare," I said as I glared up at him – though in my present position, I don't expect he found it particularly intimidating. "Treat me just the same as the others. I want the same spanking they got."
He chuckled again – it seemed he found some amusement in the situation, though it entirely escaped me. "Well, if you insist..." He continued to spank, delivering a hard series of smacks to the lower parts of my bottom that made me kick my legs. I tried my best to be brave, to maintain the dignity demanded of my station, but I was soon yelping with every smack.
He grabbed the hem of my dress, lifting it to my waist. His hand rubbed in circles on the seat of my black silk panties. "How soft and beautiful," he commented.
"Yes, I don't expect you see clothes like these on most of the girls you spank," I replied haughtily.
"I wasn't referring to the garment," he said drily. I blushed, burying my face in the hay. How could a dirty, low-class man like this make me feel this way?
As he continued to spank me, I realized how much protection the dress had provided – the sting was now far greater. As I yelped and kicked, I began to wonder how I'd make it through the rest of the spanking; from what I remembered, Maggie's spanking had barely begun by the time her skirt was raised.
The burning sting in my backside grew stronger with every smack, and I was squirming over his lap, crying out every time his palm landed, all thoughts of stoic dignity long gone. It was hard to believe that I'd asked for this – but despite the pain, I could feel myself growing wetter with every smack as well.
When he placed his fingers in the waistband of my panties, there was a brief pause, as if he was savouring the moment – I'm sure it wasn't every day that he bared the bottom of a nobleman's daughter. Slowly, as if uncovering a treasure, he lowered my panties to my knees, rubbing my bare bottom with an appreciative murmur.
Suddenly, he lifted his hand and swatted, and I howled as he continued the spanking. I hadn't expected the thin silk garment to provide as much protection as it did, but I was unprepared for the sting of a real bare-bottom spanking. I squirmed, I kicked, I howled. My face was streaked with tears – but it wasn't the only part of me getting wet.
When he stopped spanking me, I had a vague feeling he had been going easy on me – it certainly FELT a lot longer than Maggie's spanking, but I don't think I would have survived what he'd given her. Anyway, I felt too relieved to care. When he seated me on his lap and began to comfort me, I spread my legs for him, like a shameless hussy – I'd heard the stories, and I'd seen what he was about to do to Maggie, and I couldn't wait for him to do the same to me.
He chuckled. "Oh, you think so, do you?"
To my shock and horror, he pushed me off his lap. I howled as I landed in an undignified heap on the floor, my burning bottom slamming against the hard wood, and looked at him in wounded confusion.
"You refused to let me comfort Maggie when she needed me – so I'm choosing to refuse you the same pleasure. Good night, Penelope." And he started to walk away.
"Come back here this instant!" I shouted angrily. "Caleb, come back! You can't do this to me! I deserve better than this!" He continued to walk away, clearly not impressed with my outburst. "Caleb, please! I need you," I begged. "You can't leave me here like this!"
But despite my pleas and protests, he was gone, leaving me sobbing in pain, half-naked and tired, feeling hornier than I'd ever been in my life.
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