Here's a free story for you featuring a very dominant woman giving a deserving male exactly what's required!
The Cherry Cake Incident © Lucy Appleby
Gilbert Bryce considered himself a fortunate man, for he had just obtained a position as second footman at Grantham Hall. Though the hours were long and some of his many duties unpleasant, such as emptying the chamber pots of all the male servants and washing them with a vinegar-soaked rag, (washing the chamber pots that is, not the servants) he applied himself conscientiously to each and every task. By the end of his first week at Grantham Hall, he had gained an in-depth understanding of the way things worked and knew his place within the hierarchy of servants. Below stairs, the Butler Mr Jarvis, and the Housekeeper, Miss Williams were the respected figureheads of authority; there was just one area in which they passed autonomy onto another - and that was the discipline of the household staff.
Discipline was Cook's domain. She was good at it ... very good indeed; she had a certain talent combined with an incessant enthusiasm for doling out punishment on deserving bare bottoms, and she took an even greater pleasure in meting out discipline to the undeserving, particularly when she manipulated situations to her own advantage. No one dared challenge her. She ruled the kitchen with a rod of iron, her face often set in a scowl as she inspected the work of her underlings and found them sadly lacking. Soggy pastry was the most heinous crime - Betty got two dozen with the wooden spoon for her soggy-bottomed lemon tart. Beatrice got six of the best with the slim rattan after her suet dumplings were found to be so heavy they sank (with a little covert help from Cook) to the bottom of the iron stew-pot. Mary was treated to a dose of brine-soaked birch rods for failing to clean the baking trays to Cook's exacting standards, and Lizzy the scullery maid got six stingers with the strap for spilling the ash pan all over Cook's clean kitchen floor, even though Cook herself was responsible for the mishap.
Gilbert quietly absorbed all this and quickly got the measure of Cook. It didn't matter that she was the most unpopular member of staff in the entire household - he adored her. He admired her physical strength, her assertiveness and tenacity, and though her face was plain as a pikestaff, he found himself lusting after her and did his utmost to attract her attention. Yet however hard he tried, he remained firmly below her radar ... until the cherry cake incident.
Cook was most particular about her cakes and kept a vigilant eye on the kitchen and scullery maids to ensure that not one crumb intended for the Master and Mistress of the house found itself into the greedy belly of a servant below stairs. One afternoon, she made a particularly impressive-looking cherry cake and set it on the cake stand to be taken upstairs at tea time, but to her horror the next time she glanced at it, there was a big slice missing. Cook went ballistic! She ranted and raved and gnashed her teeth. She brandished her rolling pin and cursed and threatened. She lined up all the female staff in a long row, and bent them bare-bottomed over her scrubbed pine kitchen table.
Surveying the row of bared posteriors, their owners shaking at the thought of their imminent chastisement, Cook's gimlet eyes narrowed. Since the culprit would not confess, she would punish the lot of them, and it would be a punishment they would not forget in a hurry! Cook smiled thinly and rolled up her sleeves. She retrieved her favourite thick, heavy strap from the nail behind the larder door. It would soon leave some beautiful markings on the pale moons awaiting chastisement. She positioned herself behind the first unfortunate miscreant and raised her arm.
"Wait!!" Gilbert Bryce stepped forward. "I have a confession to make. It was I who stole the cake. Therefore it is I who should be punished."
There came a collective gasp of relief from the owners of the bare bottoms. Cook stared long and hard at Gilbert Bryce. "Prove it," she snapped.
"But - I can't! I've eaten the evidence!" declared Gilbert.
"How very foolish of you," said Cook slyly.
"Well ... I - I am the thief! So punish me and let these innocents go!"
"Not on your nelly," snapped Cook. She elbowed the fat-bottomed Dolly at the end of the row. "Move up girl. Make room for ...?" She looked questioningly at Gilbert.
"Gilbert Bryce, Ma'am."
"Very well, Gilbert Bryce. Bare your bottom and bend over the table. Jump to it. I haven't got all day."
With trembling fingers and a building sense of excitement, Gilbert began unbuttoning his livery. This was it - his dream come true - he was to be disciplined by Cook! This was a day he would cherish forever! He dropped his breeches and bent over the table.
"Stick that rump right out, boy!" Cook swatted it with the palm of her hand. Gilbert almost swooned with pleasure.
But the others gathered around the table in the same undignified pose were not so pleased. They thought it most unfair that they were to be punished for something that Gilbert was responsible for, and they all glared at him, darting looks of contempt and unspoken promises of retribution. Gilbert was oblivious. He arched his back and thrust out his backside, enjoying the feel of the cool air on his naked buttocks. What a shameful spectacle he must make! The thought of such exhibitionism made his cock twitch and pulse. He fervently hoped Cook couldn't see it.
But she had. She reached down and grabbed it in her left hand, giving it a yank. "Despicable creature! What is the meaning of this engorged manhood?"
"Oooo!" squealed Gilbert, shocked to find his fine appendage so cruelly pulled.
In spite of their imminent punishment, the kitchen girls began to giggle and snort with laughter.
"Silence!" bellowed Cook. "Cease that infernal snorting. I will not tolerate it!" As quiet descended like a heavy blanket, Cook reached for her strap. "I shall start with you, Mr Bryce. And I shall finish with you also - you will have a double dose for your thievery. What say you to that?"
"As it pleases you, Cook." Gilbert screwed up his face and held his breath, waiting in an agony of expectation for that first slash of the strap. When it came, his eyes bulged, and his mouth opened wide in shock. He wanted to yell, but he couldn't ... the pain was so intense his vocal chords were paralysed. Down came the strap - again and again, landing heavily with a hearty crack on Gilbert's firm buttocks. At last, a noise erupted from his throat. "Yaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeee!!" he screeched. "Oh! Ow! OW! OWW!"
"Hah!" said Cook. "I see I'm having some effect. Let's give you a few stingers a little lower, shall we?"
"No!" shouted Gilbert. "I'd really rather you didn't. I - Arrrrgh!" He squealed again as the strap bit the under-curve of his buttocks, getting him right in the crease. He shook his haunches in a comical fashion, trying to deflect the pain. He bounced up and down, yelling and wriggling. His poor bottom burned and throbbed. And that wasn't all - Cook still had hold of his cock! She kept tugging at it, using it as a handle to guide him back into position.
Those who were brave enough to lift their heads to observe the proceedings saw a rare thing - Cook with a smile on her face. Oh yes. She was having such fun! She would be sure to give this young man plenty of attention in the future. He was most deserving. Giving him two more cracks with the strap, she then went round the table, meting out six strokes on each of the bare bottoms presented. The kitchen was soon filled with gasps and yelps and hollers. Her mission with the female staff accomplished, Cook bade them cover their strapped bottoms and get on with their work while she finished disciplining Gilbert. Hanging the strap back up, she instead reached for the sturdy rattan and swished it joyously through the air.
Gilbert swallowed. His backside was sore and striped - and now he had to endure the cane! But one look at the wonderfully stern face of his tormentor and he became putty in her hands, anxious to please by sticking his bottom out just as far as it could possibly go. Lines of fire burned into his skin and he wailed out his pain.
"Haha! Not so stoical now, are we boy?" said Cook. "Here - have another one." Down slashed the cane, directly across Gilbert's tortured buttocks.
He hated it. He loved it. It was terrifying. It was wonderful. It was the beginning of a very unique relationship between Gilbert and Cook. However, as stiff and sore as he was after she had done with him, there was to be no respite. Because when Cook popped out to the village on an errand, the kitchen staff turned on Gilbert with vengeance etched over their faces.
"Thief!"
"Steal the cake, huh, and get US punished!"
"Punished for something we didn't do!"
"Take off your clothes."
"All of them!"
"Now you'll find out what a real spanking feels like, Gilbert Bryce."
He did too - and he didn't even like cherry cake!
This story is available within the e-book, Bad Boy Story Book 3, available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from
LSF Publications:
