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Victorian housemaid discovers her erotic side.

An aching sensation once again moved through her belly as she waited for him to speak. 'You're late, Mary. I wanted to work here today' he commented, his voice low.

'I'm sorry sir, cook wanted the floor cleaned' she tried to explain, but he interrupted harshly 'Who's more important, your Master or cook? I think you need to be punished'.

'Oh, please Sir, it won't happen again' she begged, knowing it was useless, and tried to rise from her knees. He moved beside her, and pushed her back down. 'Bend forward' he demanded, and mindlessly she obeyed. She felt his hand stroke the outline of her rounded bottom, firm beneath her gathered skirts. 'Now, I don't normally believe in corporal punishment, Mary, but you're only a child. I think you need a good smack to help you understand that I am your Master, and you obey me in everything. Is that clear?'

She nodded, then his hand struck sharply and she gasped in pain. 'I said, is that clear?' and another sharp blow accompanied his words. 'Yes, sir' she stammered, 'I'll obey you in everything'

'Good girl' he replied, and after the first two strikes, his movements changed, becoming more caressing, rubbing lightly at her curved rump, easing the tingling he'd created.

'I think this skirt needs to come up' he decided, and he swept the skirt and her petticoats upwards, exposing her underclothes. Easing these down over her hips, he saw the red marks on her buttocks and smiled to himself. Mary quivered, staying silent, willing him to touch her. Without thinking she moved closer, raising her bottom for more. For the first time she felt his hand on her naked skin, warm and dry, strong fingers probing between her legs as she had done the night before. Instinctively she parted her thighs to let his fingers in deeper, pushing back on his hand so that his fingertips could explore the folds of flesh and find the pleasure nub she had found. He did so easily, caressing her with an expertise that left her breathless, soon in a heady whirl of arousal. Then his fingers moved again, this time probing deeper. She felt a sharp stab of pain, quickly extinguished by waves of pleasure as he moved his fingers inside her.

He watched her dispassionately as she rocked back and forth, driving his fingers into her sex, and listened to her low gasps. She was his now, he knew that, and he could do whatever he wanted with her. He enjoyed housemaids, so eager to do well and please him. From taking his first maid at the age of 16, he knew he got more pleasure from them than he ever did with his wife. Smiling to himself, he withdrew his fingers and licked at them, tasting her juices.

'Back to work, Mary. Don't be late tomorrow or I shall have to punish you again' he stood up, and looking around she saw a bulge at the juncture of this muscular thighs, distorting the smooth line of his clothes. He caught the angle of her gaze, and smiled. 'I'll have a little job for you tomorrow' he told her. On unsteady legs, she left the room quietly, feeling the wetness between her legs trickling.

Later that night, she lay in bed thinking. She couldn't do that with him again, she decided. This must be what the other maids had whispered about, half-understood words to her, and why they had giggled and blushed whenever the butchers and bakers delivery boys arrived. The pastor had talked about sins of the flesh, and this must be it. She deserved to be punished: the master's wife had given her the job, and now she betrayed that trust by allowing the master to touch her in her most private places. What's more, she had enjoyed it, she had wanted more and the mysterious bulge in his breeches had excited her. The other maids had talked about men's parts: she was a country girl; she knew what lay inside there and what he was going to do with it and she wanted that. Then she groaned, she was a sinner, and she should go and pray extra hard this Sunday.

Next day, she arrived at her usual time in his study.

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