Maid For Trouble
Shite!
Harriet bit her lip, her shoulders hunching, her entire body freezing into position as she waited with bated breath to see if anyone was close enough to the library to hear the shattering of the vase she'd accidentally tipped off of its pedestal.
It wasn't her fault the nobs put their valuables out on precarious stands!
Although, privately she could admit to herself that she was more than the usual amount of clumsy.
It had gotten her dismissed from her last position, which was how she'd ended up in Lord Norwell's house.
The viscount ran a strict household, but mistakes didn't necessarily mean dismissal.
Ever since coming to work for him, Harriet's bottom had paid the price for the broken vases, dishes, teacups, and plates.
The housekeeper kept a sturdy paddle attached to her belt, which she had used on Harriet multiple times.
When there was no immediate outcry, Harriet straightened her shoulders and moved quickly, scraping the pieces of the vase together into a small pile, which she scooped up into her apron.
She doubted anyone would miss the vase. Fortunately, Lord Norwell didn't seem to be interested in collecting antiques or priceless decor, however he did collect all sorts of junk pieces that were scattered throughout the house and changed on a regular basis.
Hopefully, whoever came in here next would just assume that the vase had been removed, soon to be replaced by something else.
Peeking out into the hallway, Harriet scampered back to the servant's stairwell, then to her tiny cubby of a room, where she had a hiding space underneath a loose floorboard. The vase could join the pieces of a teacup and saucer that she'd broken two days ago.
She needed to save her poor bum somehow.
Punishments in the Norwell house could be quite nasty.
Harriet shivered just thinking about some of the ones she’d endured.
Despite being horribly painful, they were also quite stimulating to many of the parties involved.
No one had to agree to work here, but those that did understood that they would be offering up their bodies in repayment for mistakes.
The last time the housekeeper had spanked Harriet, she'd used that hard paddle all over Harriet's bottom and thighs, then finished with several loud cracks against her poor pussy, after which she immediately demanded Harriet pay penance with her tongue.
Considering how clumsy she was, Harriet had known securing another position without being dismissed would be incredibly difficult, so she'd done what the housekeeper demanded.
She'd heard some of the other maids whispering about similar encounters with the housekeeper, so it hadn't been entirely unexpected.
It was the first time Harriet had had to perform the service, and she'd prefer to avoid a repeat for as long as possible.
Her poor bottom and pussy had been on fire while she'd knelt between Mrs. Figgs' thighs, her own juices weeping from her cunt as she'd pleasured the housekeeper, and she'd had to go right back to work afterward.
She hadn't been able to satisfy the ache between her legs until hours later!
All in all, it had been most unsatisfactory.
Unfortunately, when Harriet returned to the library, Mrs. Figgs was standing there with her hands on her hips, waiting for her.
"Where have you been?" the housekeeper demanded. She was a sturdy, handsome woman, at least a decade older than Harriet, with a rather large bosom, and naturally reddish hair which she kept back in a severe bun.
"I had to visit the necessary, ma'am," Harriet said, lowering her gaze to the floor out of deference. Her heart was racing as anxiety and a kind of strange hope that she'd been caught clashed inside of her.
"Did you finish this room before you did so?"
"Of course, ma'am," Harriet lied immediately, studiously avoiding looking at the shelves that she hadn't been able to dust before she'd broken the vase. At least it didn't appear that Mrs. Figgs noticed anything was missing from the room.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Figgs hadn't also missed the dust. Her skirts swished as she walked over to the shelves Harriet hadn't dusted and ran her finger across them. Frowning, she turned to Harriet, holding up her dusty finger. "Would you like to explain this, then, missy?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Harriet stammered out. "I'll do them right now."
"Yes you will, and for lying, you'll be punished as you do so." Mrs. Figgs' eyes gleamed as she tugged the paddle free of her belt, using it to imperiously gesture Harriet to come forward.
Whimpering a little, Harriet could feel her nipples perking up as she did so.
As soon as she was standing in front of the shelves, Mrs. Figgs grabbed the back of her skirt and yanked it up, tucking it up into the tie of her apron so that her backside was bared.
The uniform did not include undergarments, so there was no protection for Harriet's poor bottom as Mrs. Figgs began to spank it unmercifully.
"Up on your toes, girl, do the top shelves first!" The housekeeper barked as the paddle swung and landed on Harriet's rump.
Harriet let out a sharp squeal as she did what Mrs. Figgs demanded, dusting as fast as she could.
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
Harriet cried out, tears sparking in her eyes as the paddle continued to smack against her bare bottom, each hot flash of pain making her body jerk.
Her nipples hardened and her pussy began to cream as Mrs. Figgs scolded her, wielding the wicked paddle with even more force as the creamy skin of Harriet's buttocks turned pink.
"No kneeling, girl, bend over from the waist!"
The position put Harriet's bottom high in the air, exposing the sensitive crease of her inner cheeks.
Tears dripped down her face as she cried out.
The paddle was bouncing off her now bright-pink bottom and also hitting the untouched, more vulnerable skin of her crease, making her squirm with the pain.
Between her legs, she could feel herself getting wetter and wetter as the humiliation of Mrs. Figgs' scolding and the painful swats against her bottom rained down on her.
"Please, Mrs. Figgs!" she cried out, begging, as she bent forward and the spanking rocked her body back and forth.
It felt like her skin was actually roasting under the heavy assault, and she blushed as she felt cool air against the wet lips of her pussy, knowing that her swollen, aroused flesh would be clearly visible to the housekeeper. "Not so hard! I'm sorry!"
"You certainly will be," Mrs. Figgs snapped, with a crack against Harriet's sit-spot that had her howling as she hurriedly ran the dusting rag over the second to last shelf.
"Lying is not tolerated in this household!
Bad enough that you're clumsy, but if I can't beat that out of you, I will certainly beat out your lies! "
The reminder of Harriet's clumsiness left her tongue-tied as she remembered the vase. Her spanking would have been so much worse if Mrs. Figgs knew that she was still breaking things.
"Done!" she cried out, trying to straighten, and then shrieking in surprise as Mrs. Figg's hand pressed down on her upper back, holding her in her bent-over position, and landing two more cracking blows to Harriet's already roasted rump.
She howled, sobbing, as the last two blows landed, even more humiliated when her pussy spasmed.
There was something wrong with her, that she should react so, that punishment and embarrassment should make her pussy cream the way it did.
It made working in Norwell house both harder and easier.
"No more lying, missy, do you hear me?" Mrs. Figgs asked, brandishing the paddle as she finally allowed Harriet to straighten.
Harriet nodded, her hands going toward her poor, throbbing bottom and then hovering over the singed cheeks, too afraid to actually touch them. The tears on her face dripped down onto her dress and apron. "Yes, Mrs. Figgs, I'm so sorry."
"Good, get on then," Mrs. Figgs said ferociously. "You still have four more rooms to do today."
Both disappointed and relieved that Mrs. Figgs wasn't going to ask the service that she had of Harriet the last time she'd been punished, the maid turned to scurry from the room. As her hands went to the back of her skirts, she heard Mrs. Figgs calling behind her.
"You leave the back of that skirt up, missy. Maybe an afternoon of showing off your bottom will help you remember to be truthful."
Blushing furiously, Harriet almost died as she stepped out of library and nearly ran into George, one of the footmen. He laughed as she scurried away down the hall from him and she knew that he was looking at the chastened cheeks of her bottom.
The rest of Harriet's day went fairly normally, other than the throbbing of her bottom and the whispers and giggles of the other servants in the house.
Several of them were more sympathetic than anything else, and she assumed that she wasn't the first to be made to expose herself as a kind of punishment.
To her shame, Lord Norwell, upon seeing her rosy cheeks, chuckled and gave them a resounding slap as he passed by her in the hall.
"Good to see discipline is being kept," he said. "Too bad I don't have time today to reinforce the lesson."
Harriet whimpered at the thought. She'd heard about what happened to those who had their punishments reinforced by the lord of the house.
He was apparently very fond of the strap.
As a fit man in his fifties, who spent a good deal of time involved in sporting endeavors, he was in excellent health, still quite muscular, and very vigorous.
Harriet didn't know whether she was more afraid that he might remember her or if she hoped that he would.