"Hello, Mister Blakeley," Reinhild greeted her employer as she entered his home. "I'll just go get changed, and I'll start cleaning."
Cornelius Blakeley gave her his usual bland smile. "Hello, Reinhild. I look forward to seeing you in your uniform."
"Yeah, I'll bet you are," she muttered to herself as she walked down the hall.
Reinhild had been working as a maid for Mister Blakeley for almost a year, and the job had its upsides and downsides. On the one hand, she only had to be there three days a week, the work was not too hard, and he paid extremely well. On the other, Mister Blakeley demanded that she wear an old-fashioned maid costume while she cleaned – he claimed he liked tradition, but she was fairly certain that he was just a pervert, particularly since he liked to sit there and watch her clean.
He also wanted her to wear high-heeled shoes. She'd even brought some comfortable slippers from home, telling him that her feet would feel much better at the end of the day, but he wouldn't budge. The house was also surprisingly untidy, though she didn't know if he was deliberately making a mess so that he could watch her clean it, or if he was just a slob by nature.
Her uniform was waiting for her in the back room where she kept her cleaning supplies. She changed and went straight to work.
In the living room, Mister Blakeley was sitting in his comfiest chair, a novel in his hand. Despite her employer seemingly being engrossed in his book, she could feel his eyes on her as she cleaned, particularly when she bent over to pick up something on the floor. "Think of the money," she muttered to herself. The thought made her day a lot more bearable.
At the end of the day, she returned to the back room to change into her own clothes, sighing to herself. She would go home, soak in the tub, rub her aching feet, and spend tomorrow shopping. Standing there in her bra and panties, she hung the uniform up, and reached for her own clothes, when she suddenly frowned, glancing at the door – surely she'd closed that when she entered, hadn't she?
She walked over to shut it, and gasped. Her employer was standing on the other side of the door, peeking at her through the crack.
When Reinhild was younger, she'd once noticed the boy next door spying on her through a gap in the curtains as she was changing. Obviously outraged, she'd slammed open the window, dragged him inside by the ear, thrown him over her lap, and spanked his bare bottom until it was bright red and he was howling for mercy. He never tried that stunt again – at least not to her.
It's likely that this event was on her mind as she once again found her privacy violated – and maybe it was her memories taking control. Before either of them had time to think, she reached forward and grabbed Mister Blakeley's ear, making him squeal.
"Spying on me changing!?" she snapped at him. "What kind of pervert are you?" There was a stool in the room that she would sit on while changing shoes, and she dragged him over to it. Finally letting go of his ear, she sat down and immediately unbuckled his belt. His expensive silk trousers were unbuttoned, unzipped, and lowered to his knees. Feebly, he tried to stop her, but she slapped his hands away. In a flash, he found himself bent over her knee, staring at the carpet with his bottom in the air.
She lifted her hand, delivering a dozen hard, stinging smacks to the seat of his dark briefs. "Ouch!" he gasped. "What are you doing!?"
"What sort of disgusting degenerate spies on a young lady changing?" she scolded, continuing to smack him hard and fast. "You deserve a good, hard spanking – and I'm just the woman to give it to you."
"Ow!" I wasn't spying," he insisted, squirming over her lap. "I saw the door was open and went over to check that everything was alright!"
She snorted at his audacity. "Oh. So that was why you decided to sneak over and not call out or anything?" she said sweetly, not pausing the spanking for a single second. "And besides, I always close the door, Cornelius." Suddenly, she grabbed hold of his briefs, whisking them down to his knees.
"What!? That's –" he began, but his indignant response was replaced by yelping when she resumed the spanking.
"Liars are spanked on the bare bottom, Cornelius," she scolded. Truth be told, she'd probably have bared him soon anyway, but he didn't need to know that.
Her hand moved from cheek to cheek, smacking every inch of his wriggling cheeks. She was going to make sure that he was a sorry young man before she was done!
After a while, however, her hand began to sting. The naughty boy didn't sound nearly sorry enough yet, but she wasn't sure that she could give him a proper spanking with just her hand. Should she try to find an implement? Maybe she could find a ruler somewhere, or just use his belt? As she continued to smack him, her eyes rested on her comfortable slippers, and she grinned. How appropriate!
Cornelius breathed a sigh of relief when she finally paused her spanking, followed by a howl of pain a few seconds later, when the rubber sole of her slipper met his tender flesh.
"Are you sorry for what you've done, young man?" she scolded as the slipper slammed down on his sore seat. "Will this put a stop to your naughty peeping?"
"Ow! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again! Please stop! Ouch!"
"Hm. You don't sound nearly sorry enough – but don't worry, we'll get there eventually."
He bucked and bounced over her lap, twisting in pain as his bottom turned redder and redder. There were tears at the edges of his eyes, but he fought them back, which only made her angrier. She wanted to see him cry.
By the time she placed the slipper down, he was sobbing pitifully, pleading for mercy and promising to be good, and his bottom was bright red and throbbing. She placed the shoe back on the floor and helped him up, where he stood pitifully rubbing his bottom like a young boy who'd just been over his mother's knee.
Reinhild suddenly realized that she was still walking around in her underwear, and quickly picked up her top and skirt, slipping them on. Sitting back down on the stool to put on her shoes, she walked out without a backwards glance at Cornelius.
It was only when she made it home that the red mist of anger cleared and Reinhild truly realized what she'd done. She'd just put her employer across her knee and spanked his bare bottom.
Two weeks later, Reinhild was sitting on her sofa, going through the wanted ads in the local paper. She hadn't been back at the house since the incident, nor had she tried to contact Mister Blakeley. What did you say after an incident like that? "Hi there, sorry I spanked you. Would you like me to still work for you?" In fact, she'd been expecting him to contact the police, and was slightly surprised that she hadn't been called in for questioning yet. Granted, it wasn't entirely unprovoked, but she was fairly sure that peeping was a less serious offence than assault. Besides, if it came to court, he could afford far more expensive lawyers than she could.
She sighed as she picked up another paper. She could find jobs that were as well-paid as her former one, jobs that were as easy, and jobs with as much free time, but none that combined even two of those criteria, never mind all three. Reflecting on it, she really had thrown away a golden opportunity – even if she had been working for a pervert who made her walk around in high heels.
The sound of the doorbell woke her from her regrets, and she opened the door to find Mister Blakeley standing on her doorstep. Her face turned pale, while he blushed bright red. She could not quite meet his eyes, thus not realizing that he could not meet hers either. "Hello, Reinhild. M-may I come in?"
Too nervous to speak, she nodded and led him inside. She sat back down on the sofa, while he took the chair opposite. She was still thinking about how to apologize for what she'd done, when he spoke. "I… I was just wondering when you'd come back to work," he said nervously.
She stared at him. He couldn't possibly still want her to work for him, could he? After she'd bared his bottom and spanked him?
"You've taken a few days off, which is only natural under the circumstances, but I do think that –" He glanced down at the table, seeing the newspaper with the jobs she'd circled. He looked at her, panic in his eyes. "Oh, please don't tell me you're quitting!"
"I can't –" she began, but he cut her off.
"I know I behaved inappropriately, but I've been punished for that, surely? I'll double your pay! Please don't leave!"
Reinhild wanted to grin, but she somehow managed to keep her face impassive. He was more upset about what he had done than what SHE had done? Well, she wasn't going to contradict him on that. His offer was extremely tempting, but seeing how desperate he seemed, she wondered if she could push him further.
"I might be persuaded to accept your offer," she said, trying to sound like she was doing him a favour, "but I have a couple of conditions."
"Name them," he said quickly, making her even happier. A few minutes ago, she might have begged for her job back, but now, she got to dictate terms.
"First of all, I will be wearing my comfortable slippers, not those high heels."
"But I like those heels! They make your butt look –" Seeing the expression on her face, he quickly shut his mouth.
"This is not negotiable, Cornelius," she said. "If I choose to return to your home, it will be on my terms, or not at all. Got that?" He nodded, and she continued. "Second, if you behave inappropriately again, or anger me too much, you will find yourself back over my knee with your trousers and underwear down. Is that clear?"
He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. "That doesn't sound –"
"I told you, Cornelius, these terms are not up for debate. Your mother should have spanked you a lot more when you were growing up, but if she was not up for the job, you can be certain that I am."
He squirmed in his seat, looking like a naughty little boy, which she found most appropriate.
"The third and final condition…" She reached into her handbag, pulling out something which she dropped on the table. He glanced down, his eyes widening when he spotted a large, heavy wooden hairbrush. "You are going over my knee right now for a good, hard spanking."
He stared at her, turning pale. "B-but why?"
She counted on her fingers. "One, because it proves you are willing to be disciplined. I don't want to return to your home to find that the next time you misbehave, you decide you shouldn't be spanked after all. Two, I said you'd be spanked when you behaved inappropriately. A few moments ago, you were about to provide a description of your employee's bottom. Does that sound appropriate to you? And third… Can you look me in the eye and promise me that this was the first time you spied on me changing?"
He didn't answer her question, but the way he avoided her gaze spoke volumes.
"Do we have to do this?" he pleaded.
"You know where the door is," she said, trying to sound a lot calmer than she felt. "You are free to leave – but if you do, you will never see me again."
For a little while, he sat there, pondering his options. Finally, he sighed. "I accept your terms. H-how do we do this?"
Reinhild wanted to scream with joy. For a minute, she thought she'd overplayed her hand, but he'd capitulated. This was going to be great! "Stand up and take your trousers down," she said sternly.
As Cornelius rose to his feet, unbuckling his belt, Reinhold wondered at his decision. For the price he'd promised to pay her, he could easily find a stripper to parade around in the maid uniform – a woman that would be quite willing to let him watch her change in and out of it, was used to walking around in heels at work, and was almost guaranteed to never take him across her knee and spank him soundly when he acted like a pervert. Though if he was unable to work that out on his own, she had no intention of telling him.
He lowered his trousers to his knees, looking at her. "Now the underwear," she commanded.
"Please, can't I keep them on?" he said pitifully. "It's not –"
"Arguing will get you extras," she warned him. He turned pale, lowering his briefs to join his trousers.
She walked over to the kitchen, picking up an armless wooden chair and bringing it back to the living room. Placing it in the middle of the room, she sat down and patted her thigh. "Over my lap," she commanded.
Reluctantly, he laid down. She guided him forward so that his bottom was centred over her lap, raised and ready for her hand. The hairbrush was nearby, but she decided to give him a warm-up first. She rested her hand on his pale, quivering cheeks, then lifted it and started to spank him.
"Ow! Not so hard," he winced.
She sighed. "This is a punishment spanking," she told him. "Naughty boys have no say in how hard or long they are spanked – which, for your information, will be very hard and very long. You will be one sore and sorry young man long before I'm done, I can assure you," she said, continuing to slam her hand down on his bare bottom.
She only used her hand for about five minutes – after his first spanking, her hand had been sore for some time, and she had no intention of suffering through that again. Once his backside had amassed a collection of beautiful pink handprints, she leaned forward, picking up the brush.
As the cold, hard wood rubbed against his warm bottom, Cornelius clenched his cheeks. "Do we really have to –"
"Cornelius, would you like some extra-hard strokes at the end of your punishment?" she asked sweetly.
He whimpered. "No, ma'am."
"Well, then I suggest you stop trying to tell me how to spank you," she warned as she lifted the hairbrush and slammed it down on his trembling rear.
Cornelius howled and squirmed as the brush lit a fire in his backside. Reinhild spanked hard and fast, intending this to be a serious punishment that he would remember for some time. When he started to squirm too much, threatening to slide off her lap, she lifted her leg and wrapped both of his legs in hers, holding him in place. All the while, the hairbrush continued its energetic assault on his poor bottom.
He sobbed and squealed, squirmed and screamed, but Reinhild was unmoved. The brush cracked down on his hind quarters as he pleaded for mercy and promised to be good.
Finally, when he was laying limply over her lap, blubbering, she stopped the spanking. "Oh, that's very red," she told him as she rubbed his sore bottom. He tensed in fear as she reached into her bag again, picking up something that she couldn't see, then sighed in relief when she started to spread the lotion across his flaming cheeks.
With the lotion applied, she helped him to his feet, hugging him close. He cried against her shoulder as she rubbed his back and told him that he was forgiven. It was only when he calmed down that he remembered that he was still naked from the waist down, and he hurriedly dressed.
A few months later, Reinhold hummed happily to herself. Life couldn't be better. Her workload had lessened somewhat, as a few sessions over her knee had convinced Mister Blakeley that he should at least TRY to clean up after himself. She could wear her comfortable slippers all day. If Mister Blakeley needed a little reminder, she'd take off her slipper, bend him under her arm, and deliver a dozen swats to the seat of his trousers.
If more serious infractions were committed, she'd order him to take down his trousers and underwear and bend over his knee, and he'd obey instantly – or at least nearly instantly. She hadn't used the hairbrush yet, but she kept it in her purse and brought it to work. A mere mention of it was enough to make him shape up, and if she took it out and tapped it against her palm, he would quickly rephrase his latest remark.
She still wore the maid outfit every time she was there, and she could still feel his eyes on her as she worked, but that was OK. He had to get something out of the deal, didn't he? On occasion, she'd give her rear end a saucy little wriggle as she bent over to pick up something, grinning as she heard him gasp quietly.
After all, why not? What was the harm? And besides, he was tall, handsome, rich, and single, and his behaviour had improved markedly over the last few months. Perhaps they wouldn't always regard each other as employer and employee. Maybe, one day, he would go over her lap as her husband instead…
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