I'd been aware for some time that my work was leaving me with insufficient time to cope with the demands of housework and that when I got back in the evening, sometimes quite late, I was in no mood for hoovering and dusting. I could cope with washing up and keeping the kitchen clean and hygenic, and of course, the bathroom (don't want you thinking that I'd become a real slob!). Consequently, I came to realise that my tidy and ordered domestic world was falling far short of my own standards.
I also came to see my own views relected in the attitudes of those I invited back to my place and I realised that I was going to have to do something about it, if I wished to continue with what I saw as a civilised existence. I took the bull by the horns as they say, and scanned the local paper for advertisments for cleaning ladies and wrote to one of them and asked her to call round one evening so that we could discuss the situation.
She duly arrived at 7 o'clock the following wednesday.
She was called 'Abigail' and was in her mid twenties. She was slim, petite, had masses of dark brown hair and wonderfully deep and sensual eyes and she walked round with me to inspect the premises in a very efficient and businesslike manner.
We sat down and over a cup of tea discussed terms and to cut a long story short, came to an arrangement that, subject to satisfactory references, she would start the following Monday. As I would be out all day (most days) I told her that she could put in her time during the day to suit herself and I agreed to use her services for a minimum of 2 hours a day, 5 days a week.
but I could call on her for extra hours if that didn't prove sufficient. I looked forward to living once more in a clean and tidy environment and when she volunteered to take care of the washing and ironing as well I upped her hours to 4 per day. I was spending a small fortune on laundry! Clean, freshly ironed shirts every day. luxury! The references were fantastic and Abi, as she said she would like me to call her, agreed to start the following Monday. I had a key cut for her and went off to the office with a happy anticipation of a new start.
I wasn't disappointed on my return. The place looked and smelled wonderful. How she managed to work out where everything was kept (something that I'd completely forgotten to tell her, of course) I couldn't imagine, but she'd coped wonderfully. As the days went by, things just got better and better.
I couldn't believe how I'd managed without her. Occasionally, she would phone me at the office to ask for instructions about things she didn't understand and that was something else I appreciated.
I noticed the reactions of my friends. My male friends would ask who this girl was and make suggestive remarks about our exact relationship . did she wear a 'Maid's uniform' for instance.
They didn't believe me when I said I didn't know, but I do confess to giving the image a little time in my imagination! My female friends (one especially) were very impressed with my new and much tidier world and said they'd like to meet this girl, but I thought this would unfair so I didn't encourage it.
Curious isn't it, how the smallest event can lead on to major developments? I've always had a thing about spanking female bottoms and quite a few of my girlfriends have shared this taste. 'No' I don't actually mean that!.
what I meant to say is that they enjoyed being the female receiving the spanking!
A woman I was seeing at this time was the latest in a long line of 'spankees' and on the night in question, had spent the night in my bed sleeping face down dor the first part of the night for rather obvious reasons! We had started with an 'over the knee' spanking across her jeans downstairs on the sofa and progressed to the bedroom where I had adminstered a bare bottom (bare everything for both of us!) tawsing with her draped over my thighs.
Afterwards, with both of us being very much aroused, I had fucked her hard and fast and then put the light out, dropping the tawse on the bedside table. In the morning, we slept rather longer than planned and so it was in a mad rush that we went downstairs to grab some tea and toast and make our way to our seperate places of work.
When I came home that night, I went upstairs to change as usual and suddenly noticed the tawse lying on the bedside table. I had thrown it down without thought, intending to put it away later (if I thought about it at all).
the only thing on my mind at the time had been to bury my throbbing cock inside my girlfriend's cunt . I looked at the tawse long and hard without touching it because it didn't look like something which had been thrown down casually.
The room was tidy of course. Abi had been there. The bed had been made and things straightened up generally and I got the impression that one of the 'things' which had been 'straightened up' was my two tailed leather friend.
The thought of Abi picking this up and handling it produced a strange feeling within me, so much that before I left for work the following day, I placed it very carefully on the bedside table and taking my digital camera recorded the position of it in relation to other things there, exactly.
I laid a further 'trap'. She may just have moved it in dusting and not realised what it was, so I left the top drawer of the bedside table slightly open and the corner of a 'Spanking' magazine ('Janus' . I usually treat myself to the odd copy when I go up to town. by which I mean 'London'. The Janus shop is in Soho just off Piccadilly CIrcus. for all you 'Foreigners') just visible. I took a photo of that as well.
I went to work the following morning feeling quite excited and could hardly wait to get home that evening. Of course I had to attend some damned meeting and was late, but I was in my bedroom looking for clues by 9pm, digi pix from the previous night in my hand! Not only had she moved the tawse, she had also it would seem taken the magazine out and looked at it and I'd be prepared to swear that from the evidence of the duvet, she had been in a state of excitement while she had been tampering with my things.
There was an indentation on the duvet and pressing my nose into it I could smell a slight odour of woman which had not been there in the morning. When I left for work the next day, I left several magazines lying on the bed with the tawse on top of them. I also set up a webcam activated by movement and focussed on the bed.
I set it up discretely so that it's presence was not immediately obvious and fed it through to the PC in my study in the adjoining room. I had told Abi that the study was not to be touched and that it would always be locked anyway.
There is far too much sensitive material (in connection with my work) in there. You can imagine my state when I got into my bedroom at around 7pm the next evening.
The mags and the tawse were neatly stacked up on the bedside table and the room wonderfully tidy as always. The house, as I was now getting used to, smelled fresh and clean. she was certainly a wonderfully efficient and hard working cleaner. but was she anything else? I entered my study and checked out my evidence. The webcam had triggered when she'd come into the room. She must have noticed the mags etc immediately, but apart from a slight startled movement when she first saw them, she concentrated on the room.
Only when she had tidied up and run the hoover round, did she approach the bed and pick all the things up so she could make the bed, However, when the room was done and she was ready to move elsewhere in the house did she pick all the mags etc up from the table where she'd placed them and sit down on the edge of the bed.
Within a few seconds, she was lying on the bed and flexing the tawse in her fingers. She dropped it down and began leafing through the mags and within a short space of time had unzipped her jeans and was fondling herself through her knickers. Her hand soon found its way under the elastic and her fingers became busy between her legs. Suddenly, throwing caution to the winds she suddenly dropped the magazine and closing her legs swung them upwards so that she could pull her jeans and knickers down and away from her bottom and kick them off onto the floor!
Her fingers flew back to her pussy and she began to rub herself with one hand while leafing through the photos in the copy of 'Janus' held insecurely in the other. Suddenly without warning she stopped and getting to her knees, grabbed the tawse and reaching behind herself started to beat her own bottom with the soft pliant leather.
She made quite a good job of it as well; albeit a little one sided! I was very excited watching this and what she did next on camera was in tandem with what I was doing by then.
We orgasmed more or less together! I reset the webcam and went off to work the following day, full of anticipation. I could hardly wait to get home. I had replaced the tawse in the drawer and there were no magazines on display. I rushed up to the study and checked in to see what had happened that day. I got the distinct impresseion that Abi had been just as keen as me to get back to my bedroom.
Certainly from the clock just in shot, she'd either started work within minutes of me leaving or she had rushed into the bedroom without cleaning the ground floor first. Come to think of it, she was probably watching for me to leave in the morning so she could 'get to work' as soon as I'd gone.
The camera picked her up coming into the bedroom. She seemed, at first a little, well, confused or disappointed that the tawse had gone and the the mags weren't lying around.
But she soon had the drawers open and found them in the wardrobe (as I'd intended she should!). She also found (in the same place) a long, whippy, school cane and one or two other spanking and more serious beating implements, which she placed on the bed. She found my collection of spanking magazines and also my spanking videos and DVDs. What she did next surprised me. She left the room and went obviously to the bathroom, because she came back with my underpants from yesterday which I'd thrown into the laundry basket on the bathroom; she pulled her clothes off and taking the cane, bent herself over the bed and gave herself 20 strokes with it over her bare bottom and thighs after which she put a movie (one of my favourites called 'Naval Discipline' in which a WREN .
Womens' Royal Navy rating. is subjected to a severe bare bottom caning by her Commanding Officer. for disobeying an order) on the bedroom TV and got into my Queen Sized bed . on MY side and proceeded to masturbate as fast as she could occasionally burying her face in my underpants.
When she'd finished and had collapsed on the mattress with her legs lewdly splayed open, she wiped herself on those same underpants which had been stained with my cum from the night before, just as the ones I was wearing while watching all this were simarlarly stained.
I decided that things would progress the following week and so on the Friday, I arranged to take some of my holidays for a day or so, starting after the weekend. However, I left in the morning on Monday, as normal and than waited where I could see my house, for Abi to go to work. As I suspected she had been watching, because within a few minutes she was inside my house.
I gave her about 20 minutes to get herself into a compromising situation and then walked up to my front door and let myself in (but quietly). I crept up the stairs (there was no sign of house cleaning going on downstairs. surprise, surprise!) and listened outside my bedroom door. I had expected that the TV would be on, but it wasn't, but soon I heard the THWACK! of a cane on bare flesh and a sharp intake of breath.
I heard it again and again. I let her give herself another six before I suddenly walked in to the room. She screamed when she saw me.
She was lying over the end of the bed with her jeans and knickers round her ankles and had given herself a very onesided beating with the cane. Her left buttock was firey red but her right one was not much touched. I looked down at her and told her to stand up. She tried to pull her knickers up but I told her there was little point. She started to stammer some excuses, but I told her to save her breath.
I then began to tell her my own views on the situation and it gradually dawned on her that whatever trouble she was in, it wasn't the sort (in any way) which was going to cost her, her job.
rather the reverse in fact! I sat on the end of the bed and told her to get over my knee but firstly to take her jeans and knickers off completely. With her in position, I started to hand spank her bottom and thighs, holding her firmly down with my free hand in the small of her back. I subjected her to this, making the spanks harder and harder and HARDER for at least ten minutes. She struggled wildly at first but soon realised that there was no use protesting.
As her arse reddened, I began to detect the odour of female excitement and sure enough, when I ran my hand between the cheeks of her arse I found that she was very wet indeed.
It was almost BUBBLING out of her! A finger or two inserted into her vagina slid inside without any difficulty whatsoever. She had placed one or two pieces on the bed before she'd known she was going to have company and reaching out, I took hold of my trusty two tailed tawse.
Don't forget that her only experience with this had been self inflicted. This is NOT the same as being on the receiving end of a tawsing from a strong male right arm.
The first swats made her scream and thrash about again, but I was really starting to enjoy myself and she must have felt that enjoyment sticking into her side! When her rear end was really hot and swollen to what seemed like twice its original size, I commanded that she stand up and go over to the middle of the room and touch her toes.
This she did somewhat reluctantly, moving with a curious shuffling gait with very small steps. O knew what this meant. Her bottom was so painful that she was trying to move without actually moving it! When she was in poisition, I told her she was getting a dozen very hard strokes of the cane and that she was to count them and thank me for each one AND call me 'Sir'. 'Just like the WREN in 'Naval Discipline' I told her, which caused her to start. I could almost hear her brain jerk.
'How does he know I've watched THAT???' THWACK!. 'One. thank you Sir' 'LOUDER ABI' 'ONE THANK YOU SIR' 'MUCH LOUDER' 'ONE THANK YOU SIR' TTHHWWWACCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!. 'TWO THANK YOU SIR' THWAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!! . 'THREE THANK YOU SIR' 'Abi, if you rub your bottom again without permission, the caning will start again at the beginning' 'sorry sir' 'WHAT?' 'SORRY SIR.
WWWAAAACCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!. Oh Goddddddddddddd!.FOUR THANK YOU SIR' and so on up to the final stroke which is traditionally always the hardest. SSSSSSSSSSSTHWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. TWELVE THANK YOU SIR. I made her stay down for several minutes, rubbing her swollen and welted backside, ridged from the caning, and more and more frequently fingering her arse crack and cunt unril she begged me to fuck her and fuck her hard.
I opened a pack of condoms but she said she wanted it bareback so I pushed her onto the bed and got behind her doggy fashion and shoved my cock straight into her cunt. I fucked her very hard and very fast, grinding into her splayed arse cheeks, my balls swinging against her thighs. just as I was about to cum I pulled out and twisting her round shot my full load into her face.
Most of it hit her just above the nose and shot upwards into her hair, but a lot just dribbled into her mouth and the second jet went straight into her open mouth. She licked my cock clean and took most of the cum on her face into her mouth as well. I asked her what her boyfriend would think about the bruises etc on her body, but she told me that at that moment she was 'unattached'. I suggested to her that if that was the case, she might just as well be a 'resident cleaner'.
She said that she'd like that and where would she be sleeping? I thought this was a silly question and left it unanswered.