The Dominant Male

voice.
    ‘Oh,’ her mistress replied. ‘Don’t worry, girl, you certainly will be. Servants who do not know how to perform their duties here are disciplined. I believe that you were told that when you joined us?’
    ‘Yes, my lady,’ Chastity said, confused, ‘but… I mean… I thought—’
    ‘Stop babbling you silly chit and take your dress off. Prudence, run and fetch me a cane and then you can strip too. I simply won’t have pertness.’
    With her heart pounding now, Chastity took off the black silk dress and stood in drawers and corset, furiously blushing. Lady Beatrice walked around her slowly and the maid could feel the older woman’s eyes on her half-naked form.
    ‘That corset is a disgrace,’ her Ladyship said coldly. ‘It needs to be laced at least two inches tighter. Four would be better. Well, drop your drawers, girl. You won’t require them for what is coming.’
    Chastity did as she was bid but did it as reluctantly and slowly as she dared. It was not just the shame of having to reveal herself before Lady Beatrice’s gimlet gaze, though her embarrassment was acute enough to make her slightly dizzy. It was also the fear of what was coming. Chastity had not been flogged before, as a grown girl, and something told her that Lady Beatrice was not one to spare her servants. However, there was only so long that she could delay letting the drawers slip down her legs, leaving her lower person in nothing but her black silk stockings.
    ‘Take your hands away, girl. In fact put them on top of your head.”
    Chastity did as she was bid, blinking the hint of a tear of sheer humiliation away, as Lady Beatrice regarded her maid’s pussy with a raised eyebrow.
    ‘I see this lamb needs shearing!’ she remarked. ‘Pretty as these golden locks are…’
    Chastity could not prevent a yelp of pain as her mistress took hold of a hank of pubic fur and yanked it hard, ‘we do not permit it for hygienic reasons. Prudence should have seen to… Ah! There you are. What kept you?
    ‘I am sorry, my lady,’ the dark haired maid said anxiously, ‘his Lordship was in the rod room…’
    Chastity dared a glance up at the other maid. Her cap was awry and her face a shade not far from beetroot.
    ‘Well, I will deal with you later. Make a horse for this chit!’
    Chastity was made to put her arms over Prudence’s shoulders. The lady’s maid grasped Chastity’s wrists and pulled them down until they were almost at her waist and, with a grunt, bent over.
    ‘Further, further! Her legs are so long that her feet are barely off the ground, you need to bend much further.’
    Chastity was much taller than Prudence and the dark haired maid was clearly struggling with her weight, but at length, she was horsed to Lady Beatrice’s satisfaction. The blonde girl held her breath. Everything was silent except her pounding heart and the slight protesting creak of the two maids’ corsets. Then the quiet was broken with a gasp as Chastity felt the cold, smooth touch of the cane laid, horizontally, right across the middle of her naked bottom.
    ‘Have I thrashed you before, girl?’ Lady Beatrice asked in an excited, husky voice.
    ‘Nu… No, my lady,’ Chastity managed somehow; mortified that Lady Beatrice could seemingly not remember something so significant to maids, if not, apparently, to mistresses.
    ‘Well, this won’t be the last time. You have a peach of a bottom, girl. A veritable peach. Plump and almost as white as your corset… now! I speak of its colour now, understand me. I mean to apply a little rouge directly!’ Lady Beatrice let out a throaty, delighted chuckle.
    Time seemed to stop. Chastity bit her lip to prevent a wail escaping as she felt the cane lifted from her bottom. She closed her eyes and took as deep a breath as her corset would allow. The anticipation was so awful that she almost wished the stroke would fall.
    At last there was a horrible, low whistling sound and then Chastity let out a squeal as pain blossomed in a line of fire across the middle of her bottom.
    ‘Oh! Oh! Ah!’
    ‘Be silent!’
    The second stroke was harder - much, much harder. The first, far too intense to bear, had been, it seemed, no more than a tester. Chastity howled. She could not hold her tongue and she could not hold still either. Her hands fought in Prudence’s grip, she wriggled like a gaffed pike as if by doing so she could escape the venomous, hissing cane, which cracked against her tender bottom skin again and