Lottie's Bath

Lottie slipped into the plush, well-appointed bathroom and quietly closed the door behind her. Her mistress, Miss Verity, had gone out for the evening to one of the many social engagements expected for a 19-year-old in her second season. The rest of the staff had gone to bed, not having a young mistress to wait up for.

She slipped out of her apron, blouse, and skirt, left them folded neatly on the floor, and padded over to the large claw foot bathtub in her underthings. She turned the taps and grinned to herself as the tub began to fill with steaming hot water. At 21, and with her lady's maid position, she had to hold herself apart from the giggling housemaids and be dignified. This was one of the only times she ever got to indulge.

She had started sneaking baths a few months before. Not often, as Miss Verity and the rest of the household were sure to notice the use of hot water and fancy bath things, but every once in a great while, she slipped down into her mistress' bathroom for a proper bath. It was a seldom-enjoyed, deliciously naughty treat, like spending a little extra money on sweets on her afternoon off.

As the tub filled, Lottie untied her corset laces, loosened the strings and unfastened the hooks in the front. Miss Verity had high standards for the appearance of her lady's maid, and she liked Lottie to be tightly corsetted. Lottie inhaled deeply as the corset released its hold on her ribs.

She carefully measured out a few drops of bath oil, not enough to be missed, and a tiny handful of bath salts. Just enough to scent the water with a faint perfume of almonds and vanilla. She pulled off her shift and slid into the luxuriously hot, sweet-smelling water.

Lottie washed under her arms with her mistress' rose-scented soap, careful to replace it in exactly same spot in the soap dish, knowing it would be dry by the time Miss Verity returned home. Then she relaxed, closing her eyes and leaning back against the tub, savoring the sweet warmth of the water and the pleasant wickedness of being nude in her mistress' space, sneakily using her things.

Just a few minutes passed before Lottie began to run her fingers over the creamy skin of her breasts. She barely realized what she was doing until she had caught one pale-pink nipple and pinched it. She gasped a little, then looked down at herself and giggled. She closed her eyes again, and her hand crept lower, to the soft, red-gold curls between her thighs. She slid one small finger between the folds of her sex, seeking out the sensitive little nub there, and a second finger soon followed.

The bathroom door opened with a sudden crash, and Lottie's eyes flew open. She froze in panic, sitting there exposed, staring wide-eyed at the door where Miss Verity Weston stood, still in her frilled, gauzy party dress. Lottie heard rather than felt the little moan of fear that escaped her lips. Miss Verity's temper was something of a legend among the servants, and Lottie had usually managed to escape being the target of her mistress' ire. This time it seemed she would not be so lucky.

"Lottie," Miss Verity nearly purred as she stalked over to the side of the tub. "Did you take a wrong turn on your way to my boudoir? Because I do believe you should be waiting there for me to return from Mr. Smythe's dinner party, with my nightdress and a cup of chocolate. And yet - and please correct me if I am mistaken - you appear to be taking a bath," she began to pull off one of her evening gloves, "in my bathroom. Using my toilette supplies," she stripped the other glove off of her dainty hand, "some of which, may I remind you, are imported from Paris and cost more than your month's salary."

Lottie scrambled for and answer, and was trying tosplutter out an apology when her mistress wound one slender hand in Lottie's curls and unceremoniously pulled her over the side of the tub. Once her feet hit the floor, Lottie struggled to keep her balance, but her feet slid out from under her and she crashed to the floor, landing painfully on her bare bottom.

Miss Verity laughed delightedly at her maid's awkward landing. "I should dismiss you, without a reference," she said, laughing more as Lottie's eyes grew wider.

"Please, Miss," the little maid begged, "please, I'll do anything, anything at all, just please don't dismiss me." She felt so terribly exposed, naked at her mistress' feet and pleading for her livelihood.

"Anything?" Miss Verity asked.

Lottie nodded, feeling a blush warm her face as she really, truly realized how vulnerable she was.

Miss Verity smiled wide, and reached for her ivory-backed hairbrush. She pulled Lottie by the hair through the door, into her dressing room where she sat down on a plush velvet fainting couch and pulled the cowering girl over her knee. Lottie's face further reddened at finding herself sprawled over her mistress' lap, with her behind in the air and her sex exposed.

"Now Lottie," Miss Verity instructed, "you have said that you'll do anything to keep your position, and I'm willing to take you at your word. But you'll need to do exactly as I tell you and be very good. Do you understand?"

Lottie nodded, and Verity responded by smacking her sharply across the buttock with the hairbrush. Lottie fought not to give a yelp of pain, gasping out a response of "Yes, Miss," instead.

"Good," Verity said silkily, "I'm so very glad we have an understanding." She brought the hairbrush down over the maid's bare bottom again, and Lottie gave a pained whimper. "You may cry out, of course," Miss Verity said, "but don't think that will make me lessen your punishment." Another smack of the brush and this time Lottie yelped a little.

"You deserve this," Miss Verity continued with another sharp smack, "and you should know that this is what happens to girls like you," another crack of the brush against Lottie's rear, and she cried out again, "girls who have ideas above their station." Verity brought the brush down twice more. Lottie took a deep breath, thinking her punishment was over, but Miss Verity continued. "And what, exactly, were you doing when I opened the door, pray, tell?" This question was followed by an especially hard smack of the hairbrush, and Lottie began to feel tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

"Were you touching yourself? Were you playing with yourself with your filthy, calloused little fingers?" Another several hard cracks with the brush, Lottie's face and behind were both warm and red from pain and humiliation, and her legs kicked involuntarily with each smack of the brush. "I knew the lower classes are little better than animals, but I still didn't expect such filth!"

Smack! The brush came down with increasing intensity and frequency. Lottie's legs kicked harder, and tears began to run down her face. Miss Verity began to punctuate each of her words with another crack of the brush. "You-" smack! "-foul-" smack! "-digusting-" smack! "-filthy-" smack! "-coarse-" smack! "-little slut of a girl!" SMACK! Lottie cried out again, both from the pain and humiliation. Miss Verity pinched at the maid's sore, reddened bottom, the suddenly stood up, dumping the girl from her lap to the floor.

Lottie cowered on the floor, her attention entirely focused on her sore bottom. Verity's eyes narrowed as she looked down at her maid. "...Since I interrupted you in your...self-abuse by returning early," she said, "I think perhaps you should finish what you were doing now."

Lottie's eyes widened in terror. "Oh, no, Miss," she pleaded, "I couldn't possibly. Please don't

make me. Please?"

"Well," Miss Verity sniffed, "if you weren't doing anything wrong - and I would like to think that you would not be so willful as to deliberately do something you know is wrong as soon as I was out of the house - then it should be perfectly acceptable for you to do the very same thing here and now, shouldn't it?"

Lottie swallowed hard, trying to figure out which option would get her in less trouble.

"And, after all," Miss Verity continued, "I am ordering you to do it. And I'd hate to think what would happen if you disobeyed me when I told you directly to do something."

Lottie blushed again as she steeled herself, then forced herself to move her fingers towards her sex. She was somewhat surprised to find that she was slick with moisture after her humiliating beating, and her fingers slid easily over the little nub of flesh above her opening. She cringed at being so exposed before her mistress, but she also couldn't deny the excitement that stirred within her as she toyed with the slick, hard bundle of nerves.

Miss Verity watched intently. "That's it, Lottie," she purred, "spread your quim for me, I want to be able to see what you're doing."

Lottie couldn't help the little whimper that escaped her at these words, at feeling Miss Verity's eyes on her skin.

"Does that feel good?" Miss Verity asked.

Lottie whimpered again, not wanting to answer.

"I asked you a question, girl," Miss Verity's voice went cold. "Does that feel good? Yes or no?"

"Yes, Miss," Lottie gasped.

"Oh, good," Miss Verity replied. And she wound her hand in Lottie's hair once again and pulled her back over to the fainting couch and yanked her up onto the seat. Lottie continued to frantically touch herself, scared of what might happen if she paused or stopped.

Miss Verity stood before her, her eyes still on the maid's wet, open sex. "You don't seem to be accomplishing much, do you?" Miss Verity. asked, smirking. "I wonder if you'd like to be filled up a little. Filthy little girls like you always seem to want something stuffed up their cunny."

It was then that Lottie realized that Miss Verity still held the hairbrush in her other hand. She firmly took Lottie by the shoulder and then, as Lottie's blush deepened again, Miss Verity slid the silver handle of the hairbrush into the maid's open quim.

Lottie couldn't help but cry out as the warm metal entered her. Miss Verity smiled cruelly as she

pushed the handle further into her maid's sex, pumping it in and out with surprising vigor. Lottie

made a little sobbing sound as she continued to stroke herself, the sensation combining with

that of the firm brush handle pushing into her.

"You like that, don't you, you little trollop?" Miss Verity asked softly. Lottie nodded, unable to speak as her body responded to the stimulation and neared a crescendo of pleasure. "You like it so very much, you dirty girl," Miss Verity purred.

Then, she suddenly slid the hairbrush out and said one soft, single word. "Stop."

Lottie gave a frustrated wail, but she knew the consequences would be terrible if she disobeyed her mistress. She stilled her hand.

Miss Verity laughed delightedly. "Good girl!" She cried. "Now what shall I do with you next?" She all but skipped over to her dressing table, and did something that Lottie couldn't quite see.

A hidden drawer opened, and Lottie--who had, of course, thought herself familiar with the contents of her mistress' dressing table--was taken aback. Inside the hidden drawer was a contraption of leather straps and several objects that resembled...well...an engorged male member.

Miss Verity's elegant fingers danced over the objects, pausing briefly over one carved out of ivory. She turned and looked at Lottie for a moment with narrowed eyes. "No," she said, as if thinking aloud, "I wouldn't want to dirty it, would I?" Instead she reached for one made of wood and lacquered to a high shine. "Come help me undress, Lottie. I'm not done with you yet."

Lottie went to her mistress and unfastened the hooks of her bodice. When she went to hang it

up, Miss Verity scolded her saying "Never mind that, now, just lay it over a chair." Lottie obeyed

and then undid the hooks on Miss Verity's skirt, and untied the ribbons of her petticoats before

pulling the whole frilly, frothy mass of skirts down so Verity could step out of it.

"Unlace my corset," Miss Verity said, and Lottie complied, removing the tight whalebone-stiffened fabric and laying it over the chair as well. Miss Verity now stood before her in just her drawers and shift. She pulled on the item with the leather straps and fixed the wooden phallus to it.

Lottie drew in a shaky breath. Miss Verity smiled slowly, then drew the maid by the hair back over to the couch.

Lottie gave a little cry as Miss Verity pushed her down, face first, over the arm of the fainting couch. Her bottom and sex were in the air once again, and she was once again at her mistress' mercy. Miss Verity tightened her grip on the maid's hair, grasping the girl's hip with her other hand, and slowly pushed into her waiting quim. Lottie moaned and tried to push back, she couldn't help herself, the smooth wood filling her up felt so delicious, but Miss Verity's hands on her stopped her.

"Impatient slut," Miss Verity chided. She continued to slowly slide the wood into her maid, saying "don't worry, I'll be very thorough with you, but you simply must learn some patience."

Finally, it slid all the way home, and Lottie moaned and wriggled against the fullness inside her. Still Miss Verity held her by the hair, and began to slide in and out of her with slow, deliberate strokes. Lottie pushed back frantically - everything about this was entirely improper and wrong, but it felt so good, she couldn't stop herself. She moaned and whimpered and cried out as Miss Verity pushed into her over and over, increasing in speed and force, until every stroke hurt a little.

Verity paused and leaned over to purr in Lottie's ear "You can touch yourself if you'd like, my pretty maid." Lottie worked her hand in between the arm of the couch and her body, to toy with the sensitive nub of tissue that had gotten her into all this trouble in the first place. Miss Verity's thrusting increased again, and Lottie felt tears prick the corners of her eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and just general sensation she was experiencing.

Lottie was crying out with every thrust now, pushing back against her mistress and frantically stroking herself until her entire body began to shake and she was overcome with waves of sensation. She gave one last cry of pleasure then collapsed against the fainting couch.

Miss Verity laughed and stood up. "Did I use you all up?" she asked. Lottie tried to nod. "Well, that's just terrible, because you've made a frightful mess of my toy."

Lottie looked over her shoulder and saw that it was true, the wooden phallus was coated in her own slick juices.

"Sloppy girl," Miss Verity scolded, "come clean it up."

Lottie collapsed onto the floor, on her knees, and crawled over to Miss Verity. She reached for a handkerchief from the dressing table, but Miss Verity stopped her with a look.

"Lick it up," Miss Verity ordered, "like a good girl. I don't want one of my good handkerchiefs sullied by the likes of you."

Lottie opened her mouth and tentatively licked at the smooth wood, unnerved by the taste of her juices. She gave it another timid lick, and chanced a quick look up at Miss Verity's face.

Miss Verity rolled her eyes. "This is going to take all night," she sighed. Then she grabbed Lottie's hair and thrust the phallus into the maid's open mouth.

Lottie gagged a little, surprised at the wood suddenly filling her mouth. Miss Verity pushed deep into her mouth again and she gagged more, tears spilling out of her eyes. Lottie sucked and licked at the wood, hoping that once it was definitely clean Miss Verity would let up her thrusts, but still Miss Verity continued, causing the poor little maid to gag and cry. When she finally stopped, Lottie's face was wet with tears and her own spittle.

Miss Verity unfastened the straps that held the wooden phallus and dropped the contraption to the floor. "You look a mess, Lottie," she said, "you should really clean yourself up." She yawned, "I'm quite tired, and I think I shall go to bed."

She surveyed the dressing room, with the crumpled party dress draped over the chair, the heap of petticoats in the corner, and the open door to the bathroom. "Make sure you straighten all of this up," she said, "and scrub out the bathtub. I'll be wanting a bath tomorrow and I'm sure it's filthy now thanks to you. And don't even think of getting dressed again until you're finished."

And with that, Miss Verity breezed off into the bedroom, leaving a shaking, tear-stained Lottie in the middle of the floor, trying to figure out where she should start with the cleaning her mistress had assigned.