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.

"I'll go clean my room right now – I promise!" Mira pleaded, her eyes wide. "You don't have to do this!"

"I'm glad to see you've suddenly developed an interest in cleanliness, but your parents made their wishes very clear, and I see no reason not to obey them," the maid said. "Now, over my lap."

Next to me, Mira shivered. "But Jenny's here! You can't –"

"Mira," Abigail said, her voice frighteningly calm. "If you're not over my lap by the time I count to three, I'll be fetching my hairbrush. One…"

Judging from the speed with which Mira ran forward, throwing herself over the maid's lap, I guessed that she'd probably felt that hairbrush before, and was in no hurry to repeat the experience.

"Finally," the maid said, as she lifted Mira's skirt and slid her thong down, baring her pale, round cheeks. "You silly girl, giving me all this trouble."

I couldn't believe what was happening. A few minutes ago, Mira had been the coolest person I knew – the most popular girl in school. Now, she was a naughty girl bent over the lap of her own maid, whimpering and wincing as she waited for the first spank to land on her bare bottom.

The smacks rang out in the quiet room as the maid began her work. Judging from the sound of the slaps, and from the way Mira's cheeks flattened every time the firm palm landed, I guessed that she was spanking her quite hard, but Mira did not make a sound or move a muscle. Either she had a lot of experience in this position, or she was trying to take it stoically and not show how much it hurt. Maybe both.

I stared, wide-eyed. I'd never been spanked, nor had I seen anyone being spanked, and the reality was far different than anything I could have pictured. Watching the blur of the maid's hand as it rose and fell, watching the pink handprints on Mira's bottom linger briefly before fading, hearing the noise of the smacks and the sounds of two women breathing heavily – one from the effort, one from the pain. I realized that I'd stopped breathing from shock.

As I saw Mira start to squirm over the maid's lap, the first yelps of pain finally escaping from her lips, I began to feel guilty about what I was doing. No matter how interesting the sight was, Mira probably didn't want witnesses right now, or company afterward, so it would be best if I headed home. As I turned to leave, however, the maid addressed me. "Please stay where you are, young lady." I turned around, and she explained. "I'm sure the added embarrassment of having a witness to her well-deserved punishment will help her be a better person in the future."

"Please leave, Jenny," Mira whispered, her voice revealing how just close she was to tears. "We'll talk – OUCH!" She howled as Abigail delivered a dozen or so hard smacks to the top of her thighs.

"Be quiet, young lady," the maid scolded. "That is not your decision." A thought seemed to strike her, and she smiled. "Well, I'll give you a choice, Mira. The girl can stay… or she can go into my bedroom and fetch my hairbrush. Which would you prefer?"

Mira sniffled pitifully, clearly unhappy with the choice presented, but there was only one real option. "She can stay," she conceded, squealing as the maid continued her assault on the poor girl's bottom.

Tears were flowing down her face, and she kicked her legs as if participating in a race, but the maid showed her no mercy, no matter how much the poor girl blubbered and pleaded. I stood there, fidgeting, feeling guilty about somehow enjoying this. At the back of my mind, I couldn't help wondering what our classmates would say if they saw her now.

Finally, once Mira's butt was bright red, Abigail ended the spanking. The girl was allowed to stand, to dry her tears with one hand and soothe her burning bottom with the other, as the maid hugged her and told her that she was forgiven. They stood like that for quite some time.

"I suggest you go up to your room and have a little nap," she eventually told the red-reared miscreant. "An hour or two will do you good – though I still expect you to finish cleaning your room today." She raised an eyebrow. "I trust I won't have to explain what will happen if you don't?" The red-faced, red-bottomed girl assured her that she would do it.

Mira leaned on me as we headed up the stairs. She'd almost stopped crying at this point, and she pleaded with me not to tell anyone what had just happened. Obviously, I assured her that her secret was safe with me.

I helped her into her bedroom, where she flopped down on the bed, falling asleep almost immediately. I winced as I looked at her bare, red bottom – her skirt was still raised in the back, and her thong had been kicked off into the distance some time ago. I expected they'd find it eventually.

As I headed downstairs again, I wondered how this would affect our friendship. Would she avoid me, because she would be reminded of the awful experience every time she looked at me? Would we be even closer, because I had proven my friendship by keeping her secret? Or would she try to butter me up to ensure my mouth stayed closed? I had no idea, and that bugged me.

However, there was something far more immediate on my mind than that. Something I somehow had to do, whether I wanted to or not. And I wish I knew whether I wanted it or not.

I found the maid sweeping in the library. When she heard me approach, she looked up and gave me a friendly smile. "Oh, it's Mira's little friend. What can I do for you?"

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. "I'm sorry." She frowned in confusion, wondering what I meant, and I continued: "I was the one that suggested we should go to the mall. If it wasn't for me, Mira might have headed straight home, so she could have talked to her parents and cleaned her room right away. It was all my fault." I wasn't sure that was true – I couldn't remember who had suggested the mall – but it sounded good.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Abigail said, waving her hand dismissively.

"But it's my fault!" I insisted. "I'm the reason she was punished. I'm just as guilty as she was, and I deserve –" I couldn't say it. For whatever reason, I couldn't make my mouth form the words.

She looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and I had the horrible feeling that she saw right through me. Did she know what was going through my mind? Did she guess that as I watched Mira sob and squirm over her lap, I began to imagine myself in her position? That I wondered what it would feel like to be spanked by this woman? That watching the punishment had awakened something in me that I had never even suspected was there?

"I see," the maid said, clicking her tongue. "Are you saying that you deserve to be punished?"

I nodded, blushing fiercely.

She folded her arms in front of her, a pensive look on her face. "Let's see. I could call your parents, couldn't I? They would probably ground you, I guess." She saw my wincing expression and frowned. "No? You would prefer something else?" She tutted, seemingly deep in thought. "I could make you write lines – there's probably pen and paper somewhere here. A few hundred lines would really teach you a lesson." She smiled. "No? You were thinking of something else?"

I fidgeted, realizing that the woman was teasing me – she knew exactly what I was asking for, but she was going to pretend she didn't.

"I could make you clean the kitchen – goodness knows I'd appreciate it if someone else did it for a change. No, not that either?" She looked at me, pondering. "I guess… I guess I could spank you, couldn’t I?"

I nodded, grateful that my ordeal was at an end. Or about to begin.

She shrugged. "Well, why not? I must say, I've never spanked anyone that asked for it before – in fact, Mira is usually begging me NOT to do it." She looked at me. "Have you ever been spanked before, young lady?" I shook my head, and she smiled in a way that I think was meant to be reassuring. "Not to worry, we'll soon get that taken care of."

Taking me gently by the hand, she guided me over to a straight-backed chair standing in the corner – similar to the one she'd used when she spanked Mira. As she sat, I looked down at her lap, trying to fathom the fact that I was about to find myself bent over those knees, staring at the carpet as she spanked my bottom. And I'd asked for it to happen.

I blushed as she undid the zipper of my shorts, pulling them down to my knees. As she reached for my panties, I hastily grabbed them, holding them in place. "Please," I muttered, "Can't I keep them on?"

"No, of course not," she said gently as she slapped my hands away. "You wanted a spanking, and it's not a real spanking unless it's on the bare," she explained in a calm voice, pulling my panties to join my shorts around my knees. "I guess you can't be expected to know that fact, having never been spanked before. It's fortunate that I'm here, then."

I blushed as I found myself naked from the waist down in front of a woman I'd just met. With a calm air, as if completing a task she'd done hundreds of times before, she patted her lap. "Come here, then."

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I leaned forward, doing my best to assume the same position I'd seen Mira in just a short while ago. "Very good, young lady. Just scooch a little forward – we want your bottom lifted as high as possible, so it's easier to hit. Excellent! Are you quite sure you haven't done this before?"

She began to rub my bottom, moving her hands gently in circles on my soft flesh. I quivered as I waited for that first spank to land, wondering how it would feel.

I didn't have to wonder long. She lifted her hand and delivered a firm smack, and I gasped at the sting. It had finally begun. This was actually happening.

The maid spanked swiftly, delivering quick, light taps that didn't hurt much on their own, but the cumulative effect was impressive. The immediate pain quickly faded, but as she moved her hand from cheek to cheek, covering every inch of my poor little rear, the burning sensation grew steadily.

I began to hiss like a kettle, squirming around on her lap. She chuckled quietly at my reaction, but didn't go any easier on me – in fact, I think it only made her spank harder.

"Ow! That stings," I whimpered.

"It's supposed to, dear," she told me. "That's why it's a punishment. Though I must say, you are taking this very well for a first-timer."

I stared at the floor through moist eyes as she continued to slap my exposed backside. I was now kicking my legs with every smack, and at one point, I reached one hand back to protect my poor posterior. However, she immediately grabbed my wrist with her other hand, holding my arm to the small of my back without pausing the spanking for a single second.

Tears were now rolling down my cheeks, and I was yelping and whimpering. She delivered a particularly hard set of spanks to the lower parts of my bottom, which I knew I would feel the next time I tried to sit down, and I tried to remember that I'd actually asked for this.

Finally, she must have decided that I'd had enough. She stopped spanking me, rubbing my sore rear gently, before helping me up. I expected to be placed on my feet and hugged like Mira had been, but instead, I found myself sitting on her lap, held and comforted like a small child. I cried as she hugged me, whispering gently about how I was a brave little girl, and that it was all over now. Despite my burning bottom, I had never felt safer.

She eventually told me to stand up, as she had to finish her cleaning. I hissed a little as I pulled my clothes back up, the tight shorts hugging my sore rear a little too closely. At least I looked good in them.

She sent me off home with a long hug and a final smack to my rear that had me yelping. When I thanked her for the help, she smiled and told me that she was available any time I needed her.

As I walked home, still rubbing the seat of my shorts, I felt a strange sense of pride for what I'd gone through. I wondered how long it would be before I talked to Abigail again.