Or is she?
I don’t tend to stray far away from spanking on this blog, but I thought some variety might be nice from time to time… That, and I love maids 😉
Maybe it would be fun to highlight another fetish besides spanking every month? I don’t know what people would make of that. Let me know, and feel free to offer suggestions!
Anyway, there have been a lot of pictures lately, but stories will be back soon, I promise!
“Unacceptable!” Madame Clairmont muttered as her hand came down on her maid’s already reddened bottom.
“Just unacceptable!” she said again, her ire making her slaps all the harder.
“Nein! Madame, please!” Belinda pleaded, tears rolling down her blushing cheeks.
The stern older woman kept repeating the same word, like a mantra, marking every syllable with a heavy slap.
“Un- *SMACK!* ac- *SMACK!* cept- *SMACK!* ta- *SMACK!* ble!”
Older or not, Madame’s hand didn’t seem to tire, and Belinda kept clenching and unclenching her buttocks, moaning in pain, begging for mercy.
*SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!* it continued.
It had all started when Madame Clairmont had left that morning, leaving Belinda, her German maid, to do her usual cleaning of the house. As she did every morning, Belinda had opened the windows to let the fresh morning air in. Suddenly, a cat had jumped through the window, and proceeded to run straight for the kitchen. “Was zur Hölle!” exclaimed the young, surprised Belinda, and she ran after it. As she did so, her feather-duster hit Madame’s jewellery stand and the precious earrings and necklaces fell on the floor. As she paused to try and pick some off the floor, she heard a loud crash in the living room. She hurried herself there, only to find a vase in pieces on the floor. Oh Scheiße… she thought and went after the cat.
It had reached the kitchen, making straight for the work surface where food lay, ready to be prepared. The fresh fish seemed to be of particular interest to the kitty, and, having grabbed one, it jumped back towards the living room, passing between Belinda’s legs. She turned around only to see the cat dragging the wet, smelly fish all over the dense, expensive carpet. Ach du heilige Scheiße!
“Komm hierher!” she called the cat, who let the fish fall down on the carpet in a wet splosh to meow at her. Just as she thought she might catch the elusive intruder, it run away again, and in her hurry, Belinda slipped on the fish. She fell down and crashed into the coffee table, sending the ashtray that was on it to the ground. Of course, she hadn’t emptied it yet. Madame tended to smoke a few cigarettes in the morning, she knew. It was now all over the fishy carpet. Das kann doch nicht wahr sein!!!
The accursed Katze meowed again, as if mocking her, and she got up, her vengeful feather-duster held high. Finally, she managed to chase the cat out the window it had come in. As she caught her breath, trying to process what had just happened, she heard the unmistakable click of the front door opening. She closed her eyes. Surely, this was all a bad dream.
“OH MON DIEU!” she heard Madame Clairmont say, and then a loud “BELINDA!”
Before she could offer an explanation, stammering as she was in a mix of German and French, Madame had pulled her over her lap, pulled her skirt up and started raining hard slaps on her quivering bottom. The small thong that she was wearing didn’t afford her any protection, and she felt Madame’s anger in full. “Unacceptable, Belinda,” Madame Clairmont was saying in her thick French accent, “Totally unacceptable!”
And the slaps came, and came, and came again. Belinda was crying, begging, still trying to explain what had happened as her bottom turned from pink to red to dark, throbbing crimson. As more slaps came down, she could swear she heard a mocking meow in the background.
He had a little smile on his lips as he pounded her firm, round bottom with hard slaps. The constant rhythm of the spanking, her bouncy cheeks before his eyes, her little murmured moans, the silky panties under her old-fashion working outfit… He loved it all. The little, slender maid had only been working in the house for a few months, and already she had been dragged over his lap half a dozen times.
The vase she had broken this time was of no importance, really, it had been tacky and would easily be replaced. Nonetheless, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have her wiggle under his punitive attentions again. he wondered if she had done it on purpose. Did she enjoy it as much as he did ?
As he kept spanking her, her bottom turning a pale pink, then a darker red, then a bright crimson as he kept pouring spank after hard spank over it, he wondered still, not daring to ask.
With a final hard slap, he told her to get up and go stand in the corner of the room, by the wide window. He sat on the bed, admiring her round apple bottom, the bright colour of it, the marks he had left on it. Still he wondered. He got up and came closer, hesitantly, picking up another vase form a nearby buffet.
“I would have to punish you even harder if anything happened to this one,” he said, handing it to her. She got her hands off the top of her head and took it delicately. The maid looked him in the eyes, tears drying on her cheeks, leaving black mascara marks.
She let the vase go.