Her bottom was a mass of mad red welts that looked as if they were pulsing.
‘They wanted to try out a birch,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘Have you ever been birched, Bottom?’
‘No, never.’
‘Ah well, that pleasure will come. Maybe I’ll get to do it. Now, you’d better turn around. I’m going to unplug you.’
I hesitated, suddenly coy at the idea of allowing a complete stranger – and a woman at that – access to my most intimate area.
But she yanked me round by the shoulders, fingers digging impatiently into my skin and bent me over, ripping off the bondage tape so that the plug gave a rather worrying jolt.
I cringed as her fingers fished the long, slim invader out of my bottom with exquisitely lingering tenderness.
‘There, all done,’ she said, putting it in the sink and running the tap over it. ‘You can clean it up properly later. There’ll be a bigger one for you tonight.’
I can hardly wait.
She stepped into the wet room and turned on the jets, comfortable with her nudity and unconcerned at whatever my thoughts might be. She was rather magnificent, I thought. I could see why His Lordship had married her.
I stepped in after her, sighing with pleasure at the warm spray.
‘Here, girl, wash my hair.’
She handed me a bottle of shampoo, and I reached up to lather it into her head of long, thick hair. The obvious enjoyment she derived from my actions was pleasing, and I worked hard to sustain it, happy to wash her body too, sliding my hands over every curve of her body. Her breasts were bruised, so I was careful with them and, of course, with her sore bottom. When she parted her thighs to grant me access to her cunt, I was interested to see that she had pierced labia which could be linked shut if required. I was extra careful around the jewellery, trying to imagine how it must feel to have rings hanging down from such a sensitive spot.
‘You have a gentle touch,’ she said. ‘I’ve had three hefty cocks up there tonight. God knows what they feed them in Lower Saxony, but they’re like bullocks.’
‘May I ask you a question, ma’am?’
‘Depends what it is. Go on.’
‘Do you like dominating? Or do you just do it because you think you should?’
She was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘Tell you what. Why don’t you work it out for yourself? You’ll get plenty of clues over the course of the week, starting with drying and moisturising me.’
Drying was easy enough, but I’d never prepared another woman for bed, especially one who appeared so high maintenance. She led me out to her walk-in wardrobe and made me lace her into a frothy confection of old lace she claimed was a nightgown – this was a long and complicated process and my ineptitude resulted in a number of slaps to my bare behind and thighs which she apparently enjoyed dealing.
‘Useless slut,’ she snarled, laying on another when the laces slipped from my hands for a third time. I had to admit that perhaps I’d been off-base with my theory about her reluctance to dominate. Or, of course, she could just be venting her frustration with the situation.
By the time she was gowned and nightcapped, I was a living collage of handprints.
‘Finally,’ she sniffed, admiring her reflection in the pier glass. ‘And now I suppose we should get you dressed. You’ll have to come downstairs for that.’
I looked down at myself with some dismay. I was naked, damp hair coiling down between my shoulder blades. And it was freezing. Did I really have to trudge about the cold house in the nude?
It seemed I did.
I followed my mistress all the way down the stairs, back towards the little room in which I had been subject to His Lordship’s disciplinary attentions. But she didn’t take me in there – instead, she took me further along the corridor, to the end room.
Inside, three women were dressing and preparing fo
r the day ahead.
‘Kat,’ said Her Ladyship, ‘get this one uniformed. You know what the newbies wear.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Kat smiled cruelly.
‘She’s to be given all the most demeaning duties today. Make sure you don’t let a single thing slide – she needs to be watched like a hawk. You have my permission to discipline her when necessary – please keep a note of each occasion for myself and His Lordship.’