The House Guest

"You may slap my buttocks when it feels good to you to do so," Dr Williams granted graciously. Florence tried an experimental swipe, and made the older woman yelp. "Ow! You wretched child, you are supposed to be pleasuring me, not punishing me!" To Florence, for whom there was very little distinction between the two, the admonition was hard to understand, but obediently she toned down the force of her swats.

The skinny academic's surprisingly full arse wobbled charmingly under Florence slaps, intriguing the much younger girl, who playfully sought to inflict as much pain as was possible without earning further rebuke. Evidently stimulated by the rough treatment, the doctor, forty-four next birthday, rubbed vigorously at her clitoris, the small perfectly manicured hands roughly abusing the sensitive nub, as moaning piteously, she demanded ever increased efforts from her twenty-two year old lover. Florence, her fleshy thighs slapping against the reddened rump, thrusted with fresh enthusiasm, determined to do her part in delivering her mentor a climax that should win her approval.

As Marsha whimpered to a long shuddering climax, the exalting Florence found herself abruptly brought to earth. "And what pray is the meaning of this?"

Florence spun round, wrenching her phallus ungently from the doctor's snatch. The grey-haired Sir Richard was stood by the door, his nostrils flaring. Florence imagined the tableau as it must appear to her master: the naked middle aged lady flushed and panting upon the breakfast table, and his blushing maid, the ludicrous plastic cock bouncing between her thighs, sticky with the doctor's juices. Sir Richard looked stern and a little tired.

Marsha pushed herself up into a seated position, her mop of chestnut hair more dishevelled than ever. "Hullo Richard. I've been enjoying the hospitality of the house, wot."

"I would say Marsha dearest, rather that you had been abusing my hospitality. I asked you to befriend my maid. Not to debauch her. As for you Miss Roberts I would have expected altogether more decorum. I had not thought to have brought a trollop under my roof." Sir Richard foot was tapping, a sign by which Florence knew he was struggling to contain his temper.

Smiling Marsha ran her fingers through her tousled locks. "Cut the girl a break Dick, she was only looking after a guest as a dutiful little maid should. And most obliging she was too. That's a treasure you have there, Richard." She winked at the embarrassed maid servant. Oh dear, thought Florence, someone is going to catch it.

Sir Richard crossed the room in a few strides, and held Marsha by the chin. "Madam, I explained to you quite plainly what would happen to you if you did not show Miss Roberts the respect due to her. Making a strumpet of her is hardly what I had in mind." With that he pushed his red-headed lover onto her back upon the table.

"Really Richard," Marsha laughed nervously, " there is no need to take on so. Florence and I were just becoming better acquainted, and a splendid girl she is to." Without condescending to reply Sir Richard hoisted his lover's legs over her head, bidding the doctor hold them so that her thighs pressed against her belly. Tutting, Marsha obeyed, exposing the already reddened derriere.

Sir Richard looked at his maid curiously. "I see Miss Roberts has been here before me." Fidgeting uneasily Florence gazed at her toes. "You may remain Miss Roberts to see how a proper spanking is administered."

"Richard, you wouldn't." Doctor Williams was becoming genuinely alarmed now. "Not in front of the help."

She was answered by a stinging blow. "Ow." And another. "Ow, ow."

"There, that is a bit more like it don't you think Miss Roberts?"

I could have done that, if she had let me, thought Florence sulkily.

Sir Richard, incensed at the liberties taken by his house guest, was scarcely holding back at all, as he laid on with a will. She wont take many of those, Florence reflected.

"Please Richard, don't," the tearful redhead pleaded, kicking her legs.

"Keep still woman," Sir Richard snapped, grabbing her legs in the crook of his left arm to still them, barely breaking his rhythm as he did so.

Her arse a fiery crimson, the helpless forty-three year old academic was blubbing freely now, tears streaming down her cheeks as she writhed in his grip.

"Please Richard," whimpered Marsha, "I truly am sorry I doubted Florence's devotion to you. I only had your interests at heart."

"Then why, Madam, when I had asked you to take the ungrateful girl under your wing did you think fit to abuse my trust so?" Sir Richard emphasised the question with another brutal swipe.

"Aggh! Because I wanted to see how obedient she really was. Aggh!"

"And you think it obedient of her that she should forget herself so much as to take part in that mockery of fornication?"

"Aggh! She did it for you Richard, Aggh! Please no more." The defeated woman was barely struggling now.

"For me?" Sir Richard stayed his hand.

Pinned helpless upon her back, the distinguished Dr Marsha Williams, her blistered bottom afire, sniffed back the tears to plead the case of the young maid. "You did say that Florence was to obey commands from me as if they were from yourself."

"Perhaps I have judged Florence harshly, but that does not excuse your behaviour, Madam." And with that Sir Richard resumed the onslaught

"Aggh, I promise I shall be as obedient as Florence, but please, no more. Aggh."

"Please, sir", Florence spoke up, surprised at her own temerity, "I think you should stop. I don't think she likes it."

Sir Richard appeared to consider this extraordinary statement. "I am not altogether sure that she is supposed to like it. I had understood that she was being punished."

"Yes, I know," protested Florence feebly, "but I do not think she likes being punished quite so hard."

In spite of his anger Sir Richard was struggling to suppress a smile. "And what of you Miss Roberts, how hard do you like to be punished?"

Florence blushed furiously. "I don't mind if it is quite hard. Sometimes."

Sir Richard released the doctor's legs. "Well Miss Roberts, perhaps in that case you would like to take the rest of our guest's punishment for her?"

"Really Richard," Marsha protested, rubbing her rump, "I don't think the poor girl deserves..."

"Let us call it another test of her obedience," Sir Richard cut her short. "Take off that ridiculous contraption girl. I see you still have your panties on; they can come off as well."

Florence did as she was bid, handing Sir Richard the panties to stuff into his breast pocket, as was his custom.

"Dress off as well; come on, chop, chop. The bra too I think." Shrugging off the shoulder straps Florence stood for the first time entirely naked before her master. She was painfully aware of her unsupported breasts, too large for her frame, and a little lopsided, the left being the bigger.

Marsha, momentarily oblivious of her pain and disgrace, let out a low appreciative whistle. "What a pair of charlies! They're fabulous!"

Too polite to stare, Sir Richard mumbled, "Please you'll embarrass the poor girl." Then more firmly, "Now come here Miss Roberts."

Florence crossed the room as bid, swaying on three and a half-inches of heel, her wobbly melons bobbling mortifyingly, each swinging globe out of control as it traced its own independent orbit. The still semi-prone doctor was staring in fascination at the jiggling gyrations of the maid's balloon like appendages, but Sir Richard, Florence gratefully observed, had tactfully averted his gaze.

"Marsha," Sir Richard continued, "since Miss Roberts is to bear this for you, you shall have the best seat in the house, so you might see how nicely she suffers for you. Lie back on the table please, and you Florence place yourself at the edge of the table between her legs. A little closer, thank you, and Marsha edge up towards me if you will. A little further -- perfect. Now Florence if you could lean forward."

Her crotch pressed against that of the doctor, Florence bent uncertainly towards the recumbent redhead though evidently not far enough. Grabbing her between the legs, Sir Richard hoiked the maid forward so she was lying on top of the slight academic. "Doctor Williams if you would be so kind to hold Miss Roberts in place."

Marsha did as she was bid, wrapping her legs around the maid, pulling her closer, so that Florence 's firm young flesh was drawn against her own frailer body. Florence, feeling the older woman squirming to get comfortable beneath her larger frame, tried to take some of the weight upon her elbows. The well-built brunette felt like a great heffalump compared to the slight academic, her great squishy mounds quite enveloping the doctor's small breasts as the tender nipples rubbed tantalisingly. As the maid's lips hovered above those of the mature redhead, Florence found Marsha gazing up at her with huge deep blue eyes, her mascara smeared from the tribute of tears she had paid. "Thank you," Marsha mouthed.

For all Sir Richard's talk of hard punishment, the first blow when it came was surprisingly gentle, just enough to make Florence pitch involuntarily forward, forcing her against the petite redhead, who gasped momentarily at finding herself bearing the full weight of the strapping girl, before smiling up at her as labia rocked against labia.

Another swipe followed, and another, not harsh enough to bruise, but just solid enough for each smack to be audible. Florence, no stranger to Sir Richard's beatings, realised that he intended to take his time, savouring his control of the abject females as long as possible, making sure to keep Florence within the limits of the discomfort she was able to endure, but allowing the pain to build excruciatingly, made bearable only be the answering response within her loins. His fingers would keep testing her, touching her intimately, as he meticulously controlled her responses; and when she thought she could bear no more he would stay his hand awhile, his palms caressing and teasingly patting her reddened nates, until she was ready for the onslaught to begin again. It might last an hour, perhaps two; time would have no meaning.

And beneath her, suffering with her, kissing away her tears, would be Marsha, having the breath knocked out of her with each forward lurch of the spanked maid, but always smiling up at her encouragingly, giving her the strength to bear the next blow. As the unending spanking threw them against one another, tits and pussies rubbed ceaselessly, unendurably, keeping them continually on the edge of climax, but always reined in by their skilful master, holding his hand at the vital moment, or if necessary pulling the women's sopping groins apart that exasperating inch which might as well have been a mile.

Only when his arm and mind were utterly exhausted would he allow Florence to come, his fingers filling her as she humped his lover to ecstasy. Florence dared to hope that Sir Richard might then allow the two women whose combined age met his own to pleasure him to his own well-earned orgasm. Even were he just to permit her to watch while Marsha gobbled greedily on the engorged member that would be something; that the older woman might be allowed to provide instruction on the ways in which to please her master was too much almost to hope.

As Sir Richard, giving Florence's scarlet derriere a chance to cool, made to pour himself a brandy, Marsha whispered in her ear. "You poor darling, Richard asks too much of you, he really does."

"I aim to give satisfaction, ma'am," Florence bravely sniffed. "I hope you are not too uncomfortable."

"It's all my fault," Marsha explained bitterly. "I saw Dick lurking outside the door, when you were shaving me. I thought it would be fun to tease him by putting on a show."

"I am frightfully glad that you did, ma'am" said Florence cheekily stealing a kiss from the woman twice her age, before Sir Richard brought forth a joyous sob as he delivered the next relentless swat upon the maid's ruby red rear.