The Housemaid Ch. 03

Annabel gazed at the slim back and arse of her young master as he strode naked and powerful towards his dressing area, his grip on her wrist forceful but not bruising. He didn't like bruises, or true pain, nor did she herself. What he did love, and what she too had discovered that she adored, was the red paddled behind of one who served him. Most mornings this past month, he had simply given her "maintenance" as he called it. This had consisted of twenty hard smacks with his hand on her behind, with her stretched over his lap. It was bliss really, the stinging slap, the glowing warmth, the hard cock under her belly. She never failed to cream for it, even that first time, when he had punished her for thinking she controlled him, controlled his cock. She was not in control with the young master, and it pleased them both to know it. He had set out the rules then, and there were only three. First, her cunt belonged to him. Only he would fill it with his seed. She might suck any man she liked, and if she truly wanted to fuck another man, she might take him in her ass. (Annabel had never taken a man there, but the young master didn't know that.) What he demanded was that her quim, her womb, belonged to him. Second, she must tell no one of their assignations, especially his father. Oh, the servants would guess, as nothing really slipped by them, especially since she spent her mornings working in the young master's suite, but she must never confirm it. Third, if she disobeyed him in anything, he had the right to exact just punishment.

Inside the large dressing area, which was the purview of only the young master and his valet (which he didn't currently have), were his clothes, his accouterments, and his birching stool. It was low and simple, just two steps really, made of smooth wood. He had not caned her on it in their month together, but he had showed it to her, placed her upon it and described in detail what he might do to her on it if she needed real punishment, not just a spanking. At first, Annabel had feared it, feared the cane and twist of birch rods tied together that he kept hanging on hooks in this small room. But lately it had begun to obsess her. The young master was a fair man, and she knew he wouldn't truly punish her without cause. But Annabel had begun to desire this punishment -- she knew she was a wicked slut. But her wickedness pleased the young master. So Annabel decided to use it to gain them what they both desired. Another servant.

Annabel had been sucking off the butler Mr. Crawford every day for a year. She knew the solid bear of a man was attracted to other men, but she knew too that what he mostly desired was to serve. She could tell when she sucked him, as he blew the hardest when she attacked his cock, assaulted his will, forced him to submit to her mouth at inconvenient times or in semi-public places. Although it was the housemaid on her knees before the butler, worshiping his thick fat cock and slurping his seed, she was in control of their encounters. But the young master was even better at control than she, and she knew too from the way he talked about being fagmaster at Eton, that he adored and missed controlling males. So her broken rule, telling Mr. Crawford about Master Alexis' amusements, was both for herself and for her young master. First would come her punishment and reward. And then he would tell her how she was to further seduce Mr. Crawford and bring him into true service with the young master.

Alex was impressed. His little housemaid was a great deal smarter than he'd given her credit for. What a delicious plan she'd concocted, forcing him to cane her for the first time and bringing him another servant, this one who would be a true subservient. She was too wild and too smart to truly be brought completely to hand -- witness this extraordinary case of topping from the bottom! Alex was no sadist really -- just a man who delighted in the submission of others to his will. And Annabel was the perfect woman to bring him what he most desired, as she had come to know a great number of men intimately through her insatiable desire to suck their cocks. It seemed she had determined that John Crawford was the man who would most readily desire to submit to him. And he did miss male submission. Most of his time as fagmaster had been spent correcting and birching the younger boys, the fags, of his house. It was unusual for older boys to be birched by their contemporaries -- if such a thing had been needed, the teacher or head of house might do it. But there had been one boy in the same Form whom he'd had the opportunity to have go down and mount the stool. He'd been caught in flagrante delicto with the daughter of one of the teachers. The boy, Sam, was not really a boy -- he was well-developed and muscular -- a man rather than a boy -- eighteen and in the Sixth Form like Alex himself. This Sam was confident and popular, but a bit stupid to be caught inside the teacher's daughter by his head of house. Sam had begged, begged not to be turned in to the teachers, who would not simply birch him but might expel him for deflowering the girl. And so Alex had relented, but required that Sam submit to punishment in private from himself as fagmaster, rather than the teachers. Sam had agreed without hesitation.

It had undoubtedly been the most erotic moment of Alex's life, watching Sam go down, his trousers dropping, exposing his long cock. Alex had ordered him to mount the private stool, and Sam had turned slowly, settling his knees into place and bending over to rest his stomach on the top step, big hands with hairy knuckles flat on the floor. It was a firm, muscular ass, with big flexing globes of flesh. Alex had taken up the birching rod, a bundle of slender switches of birch that were soaked in brine, the better to raise those ridged weals of flesh upon his buttocks. The brine also helped to deter infection, should Alex strike too hard and cut the skin.

Sam had flinched at the first hard blow, but soon he was far from stoic, arching his back and raising his arse to meet the switches. Alex had given him twelve hard blows, until the ass was red and raw and his own cock was ready to explode in his trousers. After the twelfth blow, he'd stopped, and Sam turned his head to gaze at Alex with a look of pain, adoration, fear, desire. Sam had bitten his lip hard enough to bleed at one point, and the blood on his lip and the redness on his bum had driven Alex ever so slightly insane with lust. He freed his cock from behind the straining placket and had moved to Sam's head. Sam had willingly opened his mouth, the blood from his lip smearing onto his cock before getting licked away. And Alex began to pump his cock down the man's throat. It wasn't fellatio, no, this was irrumatio -- this was Alex fucking his fag's face, demanding pleasure from his mouth. This was Alex in control of the deed -- no sucking or fancy tongue work required, just a hot willing hole. Alex came in thirty seconds at most, spurting some seed in his mouth, but then pulling out and coming all over the abused boy's face, great white jets of seed on his lips and eyelashes and cheeks. Sam had taken it, taken it all, as was his due for his deed. Alex gloried in the sight of this big man who was subjected to him, arse red and abused from his punishment, face white and sticky from his reward. Sam had licked his lips, cleaning the seed from them as well as the blood from his lips that his own teeth had made. Sam stood up gingerly and carefully, Alex saw then that the great big boy had come as well. On the step below where Sam's belly had rested, his cock had left behind great puddle of come, and his long organ was still turgid, but softening.

Alex put his own cock away, while Sam hitched up his trousers, but his face was still sticky with wet blobs of come. Alex didn't toss him a towel or shirt, simply waited to see how Sam would handle it. Sam removed his own shirt, scrubbing his face to remove most the semen, and then had to put it back on. Alex smiled his approval and allowed him to leave. It never happened again of course; Sam had learned his lesson in both discretion and in Alex's forbearance, and did not repeat his misdeed.

His experience with Sam had taught him how much Alex desired not just submission itself, but the submission of a man, a big man who could resist, but chose not to from his own free will. John Crawford was the ideal candidate then, as he was short, broad, and muscular, looking more like a pugilist than a butler. If he submitted to Annabel so well, how much better would he be for the master of the house?

Alex decided punish his naughty housemaid lightly, four strokes with the cane, not the birch. And then he would fuck that pretty quim till she was full up with his sperm. Only after that would he discuss with her the submission of Mr. John Crawford.