Indian Maid Spanks Me Ch. 04byspankedboy©
Chapter 4 -- My Fourth Punishment From The Indian Maid
My older maid uses my butt to teach the younger maid spanking. -- Tarek.
"Tarek!" My name rang loudly through the house. The domineering female voice called out, "Come to the kitchen right now!"
Immediately I put down the book I was reading and stood up. If my family maid Rashida summoned me, I did not want to delay in obeying her.
"Yes, bua." I called out, using the respectful term 'bua' for my maid Rashida. "I am coming."
Not knowing what the urgency was, I ran to the kitchen.
Rashida was chopping some vegetables, with her back to me. I looked at her, and her big, fleshy buttocks jiggling against the fabric of her sari as she moved around. Rashida was a middle aged maid servant who had been with us ever since I could recall. She has been with our family from even before I was born. At forty one, she was one chubby lady, but she filled out at the right places. I could see her exposed fleshy waist as her sari was wrapped carelessly around her body.
We were a rich Urdu-speaking family in Kolkata. My father was a successful businessman and my mother was on the board of many organizations. I was nineteen, and I attended a university in Kolkata, so I could live at home. We lived in a huge mansion, and had two Bengali maid servants. Rashida was one of them. The other -- Rubina -- was nowhere to be seen. Right now, my parents were out shopping -- there was a party at night. It was just me and the maids at home.
"Baba! Ah! There you are." Rashida turned around and saw me. She wiped her hands and then beckoned at me. "Come here, boy."
Obediently I walked forward until I was right in front of her. I could see her breasts rise and fall as she huffed and puffed, due to her grueling kitchen work. Rashida had a stern expression on her face, and something told me I was in trouble for something I had done.
"Are you wearing an underwear, baba?" She looked pointedly at my crotch area.
"No, bua, of course not." I nodded my head and spoke hurriedly, hoping that my words would please her. "All I am wearing is a t-shirt and pajama, bua, as per your instructions."
"Hmm." Rashida pursed her lips. She still did not look particularly pleased. "Let me see if you are telling the truth."
She reached out with one hand and pulled the drawstring of my pajamas slightly, to create a little gap. She then inserted her other hand into the space, into my pajamas. Groping, she brushed against my balls, before wrapping her fingers around my dick. She stroked my dick a couple of times. Despite my best effort, my dick hardened a little, but she seemed to ignore it, making me breathe a little easier, I was sure she would be upset at the response of my dick to her touch. But fortunately, she did not say anything about it.
"I can see you are telling the truth." My maid servant declared. Her voice was still authoritative, without a hint of being happy at my obedience to her.
The whole scene brutally demonstrated her dominance of me. There was no respect paid to my sense of dignity or self-respect. In broad daylight, in the kitchen of in my own house, my maid servant was examining my privates while I stood there helplessly and let her molest me.
"Baba, why don't you wear underwear?"
It was a rhetorical question, but I knew I had to answer it if I didn't want Rashida slapping me.
"Because, bua, you ordered me never to wear underwear in the house again." I tried to make myself sound contrite and respectful.
"So that, bua, whenever you want, you can just pull my pants down and give me a spanking."
"Correct!" Rashida announced. "And that time is now. Baba, this morning you left the toilet seat up, and I could see your pee on the seat."
"I am so sorry, bua. It won't happen again, I promise." I really was sorry, and berated myself for doing what I had been accused of. My bua was not happy and I knew I was in for it.
"Baba, bring that chair over here." Rashida ordered, releasing my cock from her hands. I turned to where she pointed, and picked up a small but study wooden chair from the hallway, and placed it against the wall of the kitchen.
If you are wondering why my maid servant (who is in my employment and should be servicing me) was punishing me, it's a long story; but suffice it to say that for the last year or so, every Monday and Thursday, long after everyone had gone to sleep, I would report to Rashida's room. I would knock on the door, be allowed permission to come in, and then walk over to a corner of the room. I would then undress completely. These were all Rashida's strict orders. And after a sufficient time in the corner to think about why I was there, Rashida would start my punishments. Most of the time, it would be Rashida who would discipline me, but sometimes Rubina would join in. And often, it wasn't just limited to those two weekly nights -- whenever they wanted, and wherever they wanted, my maids would pull my pants down and spank, slap or cane me, as they wished. In my own house, I have become a slave and a toy for my maids.
Rashida sat heavily down on the chair. She then asked me to stand facing the wall, with my palms pressing against it, and my butt sticking out. I stood beside her and pressed myself against the wall as instructed. Rashida rolled down my pajamas with one swoop so they fell at my ankles. She then slipped an arm around my waist to hold me tight, while the other hand cupped my butt cheeks. So there was I, naked from the waist down, held firmly around my abdomen by my family maid, ready to be punished. Rashida continued to caress my behind, prolonging my agony.
A thunderous crack resulted as she struck my ass with her bare hand.
"One! I am sorry, bua, I will never leave the toilet seat up. Please spank me again." I gritted my teeth and mouthed the mantra she had ordered me to recite during my punishments.
"Two! I am sorry, bua. I will pee properly. Please spank me again." My buttocks were now starting to feel warm.
"Three! I am so sorry, bua. Please forgive me. I deserve to be punished, please spank me again." The stinging pain on my buttocks increased with each spank.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
Rashida's style of spanking was unlike what you see in usual BDSM porn movies. My family maid wasn't spanking me for my sexual gratification, she was disciplining me. I had done something that displeased her, and now I was being punished for it like a little errant boy. Unlike your usual punishment, where it would just be a series of spank-spank-spank, Rashida would hit me, and then I would have to not only count, but state what I was being punished for, meekly apologize to her, and humbly ask for another spank. Any missteps that she considered large enough were rewarded with more spanks. Yes, it was true that I would usually get aroused at my humiliation, but I couldn't help it. Rashida knew that, and she would punish me for that as well. In the last year, I have been beaten by her, spanked, slapped, whipped, and caned at her will.
Right then, I was being spanked hard and fast. With Rashida's non-spanking arm going around my waist and holding me firmly, I couldn't squirm or wiggle as I would usually do. My bum was very close to her face and she could see the results of her handiwork up front. Rashida's spanking hand came down sharply on my buttocks, alternating between each ass cheek, she could see my bum quiver with each beating, and soon my behind was warm, and tingling.
"Baba, come around." Rashida commanded, taking a small breather. "Over my knees."
"Yes, bua." As always, I knew my place. I was obedient and respectful, like a well-trained puppy.
If anyone could see me now! I, the son of the rich businessman, and the scion of a powerful family, was demurely bending over, going over my maid servant's knees and presenting her my bare bum for a spanking.
As I went across her lap, Rashida gently massaged my sore behind.
"Baba, my hand is tired from spanking your big butts." Rashida commiserated. "I need to use something else to spank you now."
I laid there on her lap obediently, wondering what she had in mind. It did not sound like something I would probably care much for. In fact I became quite afraid. I wondered what she had at hand to spank me with. This was the kitchen, so I was guessing a spatula. I had already been spanked with a spatula, a big one she used to use for stirring daal, but now kept exclusively for my ass.
"I am going to use a new instrument to spank you, baba." Rashida informed me, still caressing my butts as I remained across her lap. "You ass is now tougher, as I have been spanking you for over a year, and I think you are ready for it."
Oh my goodness! I have already been caned by her, been beaten with a hairbrush (a variety of them), and even my measuring ruler had also met my ass, so what new thing could she have in mind? I really hoped it wasn't a belt, or one of those scary things that I have seen in English dorm movies.
"I am going to spank you with my chappal." Rashida revealed. "Twenty lashes with my chappal will do you good."
"Yes, bua, as you wish. You are of course, right, as always." To say anything else would have been pointless, and almost certainly have gotten me more lashes.
"Sshh." Rashida shushed me gently.
A chappal is a slipper, or a sandal, a type of flip-flop worn commonly in India, especially by the poor folk. In India, you wear chappals inside the house as well (you just don't wear the same chappal outside, so as not to dirty the house).
I was now lying across my maid servant's lap, butt naked save for a T-shirt, and was going to be spanked on my bare bum with her filthy slipper. My face was flush with shame, and my eyes cast down at her feet in embarrassment. Rashida kicked off one of her slippers off her foot and picked it up with her hand. She gently rubbed the sole of the chappal across my behind.
The blow was fast, came without warning, was hard, and it stung. The slipper was made of rubber and it was very flexible. As her slipper hit my derriere, the chappal would bend around and impact a large area. I tried not to flinch, but failed.
"Ouch! Ow! Sorry .. One! I am so sorry, bua, please, please, I will never leave the toilet seat up. Please don't spank me ... it hurts!"
"You are supposed to ASK for another spanking, not beg for mercy!" Rashida angrily voiced. "Those spanks will not count, I will start again."
By the fifth (in reality eighth) stroke I was squirming in pain. No doubt, red marks littered my sore bum. Rashida kept spanking, harder and harder, with greater frequency. Finally, she stopped.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" I was now crying. My maid servant had just taken down my pants, put me on her knees, and spanked me with her footwear. My face was red with humiliation, and my ass was red with her handiwork.
"Baba! Get up, put on your pajamas, put this chair back in its proper place, and go to your room. Your punishment is over."
"Yes, bua, thank you!" I fled to the relative safety of my room. Once inside, I glanced at myself in the mirror, especially at my rear. It was now glowing bright crimson as a result of Rashida's beating. Her chappal had certainly left an impression on my rump cheeks. I had learnt my lesson! Certainly, I would now always remember to pee with care.
About fifteen minutes later, I was finally seated (it still hurt!) to finish my studies. My parents called my cell and told me they would be late, and to remind me to be ready to receive guests by the evening.
About half an hour later, the door to my room opened. This time, it was my younger maid Rubina who entered the room with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
"Baba." She grinned. "There you are!"
"Salaams, choto bua." I immediately stood up and greeted her with respect, as I had been trained to by now.
"I heard Rashida apa finally used her chappal on you?" She asked me mockingly.
"Yes, choto bua."
"How did it feel? Did it sting?"
"Yes, choto bua." I tried to answer as honestly as I could, even as I blushed. "A cane hits one part of my bum with intense power, but the chappal, while less painful, hits a larger area. I could not sit for some time. And it was ... more ..."
"Embarrassing?" Rubina mocked me. "That you are fit to be spanked with your maid's sandals?"
I hung my head in shame and did not reply.
"I think I want to see the results." Rubina ordered me. "Turn around, and face the wall."
I did as she asked. Rubina came up to stand behind me, put her hands under my T-shirt, poked around until she grabbed hold of my pajamas, and then with one tug, pulled them all the way down to my ankles. Once more, the fact that they were merely my employees did not stop one of my maids from stripping me forcefully. And I was powerless to stop Rubina.
"Step out of your pajamas." She ordered, and I complied.
As I said, Rubina was the younger maid servant. She was my age, nineteen. Whereas Rashida was big, Rubina was small. She was of average height, and scrawny. Her only redeeming features were her big butts. She did have a beautiful face (she was only nineteen after all!), but her boobs weren't anything to write home about.
Rubina came from a poor family, who were only too happy to let her live with us and work for us from a tender age. From the age of six or seven, I don't remember, she used to work as a maid in our establishment. My parents paid for her education, and she went to the same school as me, but I was the son of the house, and I had all the luxuries, and she was the maid, destined to a life of servitude.
And now here she was, pulling down my pants to examine my butt that had just been spanked by my other maid.
"Hmm... nice and red." Rubina commented, running her hands all over my ass, while I remained perfectly still. "She has really done a nice job."
Rubina then caught hold of my shoulders and made me turn around to face her. My eyes remained cast downwards as Rubina moved her hands towards my exposed genitals. She kneaded by balls for some time before giving my semi-erect dick a stroke or two.
"I think I will have some fun with you now, baba." Rubina stepped back and crossed her arms. "Baba, raise your arms and hold your ears."
"Yes, choto bua." I meekly complied. This was a standard Indian punishment. I raised my hands to my ears and grabbed hold of them, pinching them between my thumb and forefinger.
"Good." Rubina inspected me as I held my position. "Now you will do sit-ups, holding your ears. Squat down, and then stand back up. I want you to do ten sit-ups. And you will loudly count each one."
"Yes, choto bua."
Still holding my ears, I squatted down on my haunches, stayed there for a moment, and then stood back up.
"One. Thank you, choto bua, for this punishment." I still did not know what I was being punished for by Rubina, but I did not want to ask her. Rubina could be very cruel and hard if I ticked her off.
I repeated another squat.
"Two. Thank you, choto bua, for this punishment."
At this moment Rashida walked into the room.
"I was looking for you, Rubina, oh..." Rashida paused as she saw my condition. "I needed you in the kitchen. Are you punishing him?"
"Well," Rubina replied. "I was just having some fun with him, apa -- but that can wait."
"It will have to wait, "Rashida decided. "There's lot of work to be done for the party. We'll have our fun with him on Monday night."
"Yes, apa." Rubina turned back to me. "Baba, come here. You don't need to hold your ears anymore. I am going to slap you before I return to the kitchen."
"Yes, choto bua." I dropped my arms to my side and walked over until I was standing right in front of Rubina.
"Show me your cheek."
"Yes, choto bua."
Rubina slapped me quite a few times, leaving large red imprints of her hand on my cheeks, all the time watched by Rashida, who had an amused look on her face. I had to count and thank Rubina for each slap.
"Your punishment is suspended for now, baba." Rubina told me, after she was done slapping me. "Put your pants back on and go back to your studies."
"Yes, choto bua. Thank you, choto bua."
The party was a big success. My parents were known as social entertainers, and it was a Friday night. There was a band with live music, good food, and nice weather. One of two of my mom's older friends commented I looked rather red in the face -- and teased me that I must be quite the drinker. I laughed nervously. The party ended quite late, and I slept in Saturday morning. The weekend passed by uneventfully, and on Monday morning I had to drop off my parents at the airport (they were going abroad for a business conference for a week). The whole day I was on campus, and I returned in the evening, around 7 pm. I showered, had a meal that Rashida had made for me, and then went to my room to study. Since my parents were away, I was expecting the girls to start their punishments early, but the clock struck 10 pm and they were still watching TV. I kept on studying, realizing that at 10.30 pm sharp I would have to report to Rashida's room.
At 10.25 pm, just as I was about to get up, the door to my room suddenly opened, and Rashida walked in. As always, I instantly stood up.
"Salaams, bua." I greeted her.
"Baba." Rashida gave me one simple command, but highly effective. "Strip!"
I undressed quickly. My T-shirt was placed on the bed, and then I rolled down my pants and stepped out of them. Rashida then walked over to a cabinet on the other side of a room and picked out a belt of mine.
"Baba, assume the position."
I stood with my hands gripping the seat of my chair, bent over the backrest, with my butt sticking out, completely naked, and at the mercy of my maid servant.
Before I could even draw my breath, or murmur a count, Rashida belted my butt, whipping me thrice.
"Ow! Ow!" Was all I could say, as Rashida thrashed me.
"Three strikes will do for now. Keep still, baba."
I heard her exit for a minute, and then she returned with a cane. As she swung the cane and tapped it against the palm of her other hand, Rashida asked me, "Baba, did you pay my cell phone bill on time yesterday, like I asked you to?"
Oh no, I had completely forgotten about it! I confessed to Rashida that I hadn't.
"How ... dare ... you!" Rashida was furious.
"One! Ouch! Thank you for the caning, bua. I am so sorry I forgot. Please cane me again."
"I do ..."
"... not ..."
"... like ..."
"... being disobeyed!"
Rashida caned me nine more times, leaving me gasping for breath, before she decided that was enough caning, and she would continue the rest of the punishment in her room. She glanced at me, taking in my nudity and the redness of my bum. By this time my behind was on fire, I was breathless, and almost crying in pain, cursing myself for forgetting
"Come, baba. We are going to my room."