Swat on a Hot Teen Youth

Chapter 4: Guests

Serving Guests at Lunch

"Ashley!"

Standing before her mirror in her room, Ashley was startled by the call from downstairs. She reluctantly turned away from the mirror, abandoning her efforts to arrange the clothes she wore so as to be as decent as possible, and made her way down the stairs carefully. The high, black, pointed heeled shoes she had found with her "uniform" required her to descend cautiously, balancing precariously on the elegant, thin-strapped, pumps. At every step she could feel cool air graze against the soft flesh which, when she extended her leg, was exposed between the tops of her white, thigh high stockings, held up by a lacy, transparent, pearl garter belt, and the hem of the too-small, black, front-buttoned maid's uniform. The hem was maddeningly short, she felt, only barely descending below the matching, full-bottomed whisper of a pearl-colored panty which accompanied her uniform.

She'd been alarmed to find that the dress was uncomfortably short in the skirt and tight in the bodice. In front, at least her lap was somewhat protected from view by a lacy, white, semicircular apron which tied daintily at the back of her waist. A matching tiara-like cap in her hair and wrist ruffles completed the traditional French-maid's uniform.

At the landing of the bottom floor, Ashley stopped to gather her breath, before opening the door to the living room tentatively.

"Ah, Ashley! Please come in here, I would like to present you to our luncheon guests!"

She stepped inside the room, in which she had only recently received her first, humiliating punishment. Two gentlemen, both somewhat older than her uncle sat casually in chairs around the room. Both wore impeccably tailored suits.

"Ashley, please say hello to Dr. Foster," said her Uncle, his open hand directing her towards the older of the two men, a moustached, balding, portly but elegant figure who Ashley judged to be in his mid-sixties. She walked over towards him and stood before him. The doctor smiled condescendingly up at the girl and she curtsied slightly. She wasn't sure what impulse guided her to that form of greeting, but it seemed appropriate given her attire, and she was pleased to note that her Uncle seemed satisfied with her servile and silent gesture.

"Mr. Parsons," her Uncle said turning to his other guest, a lean mid-fiftyish taller man with an athletic and debonair demeanor. He stood and Ashley walked towards him and curtsied again, accompanying it with a soft-spoken "Sir."

"Charmed," said Parsons.

"Ashley," explained her Uncle, "has come from my sister in America to receive the kind of proper instruction a young girl requires and which seems to be difficult to obtain there. She has shown herself to be a good learner, but has still many slothful and untidy habits which we are working on with her."

"Isn't that right, Ashley?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered, nervously.

"Sherry before lunch, gentlemen!" announced Edward, and motioned for Ashley to pour it for them.

Opening the cupboard between the dining room and the salon, where the men sat and talked, she gazed in helplessly at the confusion of bottles and glasses. She glanced back at the men deep in conversation. Peering into the cupboard, she looked at the bottles, trying to discern which might be the correct one. All those at mid-height in the cupboard seemed to be wine or Scotch. More bottles stood crowded onto the bottom-most shelf, and Ashley reached down to try to look at them. Her delicate footwear required her to balance herself by spreading her feet slightly and bending at the waist almost straight-legged as she turned the labels to read them.

"Ashley!" She heard the annoyance in her Uncle's voice at the same time as she felt his hand on her shoulder, holding it firmly and preventing her from jumping up as she had been about to.

"What are you doing, girl?" he demanded, angrily, "this, gentlemen, is exactly the lackadaisical and casual attitude which hinders my educating my young niece in the manner of a proper lady!"

She tried to rise to face her accuser, but he held her firmly in place, grasping the back of her neck by her hair. Horrified, she realized that the short skirt of her maid's uniform, in the position her Uncle's commanding hand held her, exposed not only a long expanse of nylon clad leg, but also a good 4 inches of naked upper thigh above her stocking tops. Bent over, the straps of her garter belt were also revealed to the men's gaze.

"Left to her own devices for a minute, you see," lectured her Uncle, "Ashley thinks nothing of immodestly displaying portions of her anatomy to strangers at luncheon!" Her Uncle sighed, and continued, speaking carefully as if to be understood by a naughty child. "Tell me, Doctor Foster, would you say that it is proper for a young lady to display her undergarments and naked thighs as my niece is currently doing, to gentlemen far her senior who she has never before met?"

Ashley, trembled as she saw the paunchy doctor come up to her, an expression of stern skepticism on his face. "No, Weston," said the doctor, "I am shocked at the primitiveness of your charge's manners! She seems to feel no shame at displaying her thighs to us." Ashley, from her bent position, watched him aghast as he reached out, and felt him pinch the naked flesh at top of her leg between his large thumb and fat fingers, squeezing it and using his grip to shake her thighs.

"Nor," he continued, "to show off her undergarments, which she is evidently proud to have us examine!" As he said this, she felt him grab the elastic strap of her garter belt and draw it out, tautening it like a bowstring, before releasing it to snap sharply back against her thigh. She yelped, and a faint red vertical stripe joined the marks the doctor's hand had left on her skin.

"Your American slut no doubt intended to let her inadequate skirt ride up and treat us to a showing of her rear end!"

Edward softly spoke to Ashley, and edge in his serious voice, "Is that right, Ashley? You are eager to show your bottom off to these gentlemen?"

"No! Oh, no, sir, ...I'm sorry, no..." moaned the girl. Her Uncle responded, "Ashley, how can I believe you, when there you stand, bottom outthrust with perhaps an inch of material covering your rear, a position from which where a mere movement will bare your arse?" Illustrating his point, Ashley felt her uncle's finger flick the hem of her skirt slightly causing it to ride up further and the pearl-colored lace panty-clad twin orbs of her bottom to peek out.

"The evidence," said the Doctor patting each firm partly exposed bottom cheek twice with his large hand, "is clear, young lady!

"Weston, in these circumstances I believe it always is best to let a person discover for themselves the implications of their behavior, rather than to check it. I'm sure you agree. So if Ashley is eager to casually display her backside to us, she must by all means be encouraged to do so!"

"That, my dear doctor, is exactly my approach to the education of willful young people," said Edward. "Ashley, please do proceed to lift your skirt up!"

Tentatively, hot tears stinging the edges of her eyes, the bent-over girl reaches back with one hand, and slowly pushes up the hem of her dress. The soft material flares around her spread hips and accumulates high at her waist, leaving the men staring down at her broadened, pantied bottom, fully exposed by the transparent material. Between the top of her panty and the back of the lacy garter belt at her waist, a pale crescent of naked flesh displays perfect twin dimples.

Edward tucks the material of the rucked-up skirt into the strings of her lacy apron, then reaches down to the front of Ashley's skirt, taut against the front of her thighs, and pulls that up as well, securing it by tucking it into her garter belt.

The doctor's large hand again cups both ass cheeks this time simultaneously, as he says sarcastically, "Perhaps, given that her panties do nothing to conceal her full bottom to our gaze, Ashley will not object to keeping her panties on at least until lunch has been consumed? What do you say young lady?"

He fingers the waistband of her delicate panties, and introduces his hand, with absolute confidence and familiarity into her underwear, testing the silky, warm resilience of her naked bottom.

"No, no... leave them on, please," sobs the girl as she feels her bottomcheeks explored possessively.

"Stand up!" commands her Uncle. She does so, but her skirt defiantly stays pinned up under her apron strings and garter belt. From the rear, her bottom appears no less totally naked for being decorated by the transparent pearly lace. Her plump twin cheeks and the deep cleft between them is not hidden, but framed by the garment. In front, however, the apron she wears thankfully covers her lap, which would otherwise be on display equally transparently.

Reaching into the cupboard, Edward indicates a bottle of amber liquid, with a cryptic French label. He reaches in and hands out a small, cut glass, goblet. "If you have finished for now attempting to distract us, Ashley, please finish serving us our overdue sherries!"

Awkwardly trying to maneuver herself to avoid revealing her exposed backside to the men, Ashley pours glasses of sherry and brings them to the amused gentlemen. Delaying getting close to the doctor who had taken such liberty with her, she serves the seated Mr. Parsons first. After she hands him his drink she attempts to back away towards the cupboard, but his voice stops her, "Young Lady! I do not think that from my vantage I was fully able to appreciate the full effect of your efforts to show yourself off! Please stand still and turn around."

Ashley slowly turns away from the man reclining comfortably and feels his gaze like a hot beam of humiliation travel across her rear and thighs. "Weston, your young lady seems to have a well exercised posterior, firm and rounded. Are you keeping her in exercise?"

"Certainly," responds her Uncle, "Ashley is following a regular exercise program. Ashley, why don't you explain your routine to Mr. Parsons."

A hot flush settles on Ashley's face and chest, and her rear towards them, she is forced to describe her regular training sessions to the men examining her posterior. When she hesitates, Parsons, prods her along, enjoying hearing the girl describe the humiliations she is made to suffer.

"I run... and I am made to do calisthenics... and I dance." "And what kinds of calisthenics do you do, young lady?" "I... I do sit-ups and push-ups." "And Ashley," Edward cajoles, "tell Mr. Parsons how you are assisted in getting the maximum benefit from these exercises." "My Uncle and sometimes my cousin help me by... by..." "Yes, girl, say it, what do they do?" "Uncle helps me with sit ups by pulling on... on.. my... nipples... and he uses a belt... a belt on my bottom... and he makes me dance... my ... bottom dance..." "On his lap?" "Yes, on his lap."

"Ah, it is doing you good, young lady, you should be thankful," says Mr. Parsons reaching up and squeezing her bottom cheeks. A final pat sends Ashley on her way to fetch the other two glasses of sherry, which she hands to the doctor and to her Uncle. The men, resuming their conversation, ignore the serving girl as she hands them drinks. Her uncle indicates with a casual gesture towards the corner near the door, and Ashley backs away from him, and stands in the place he has indicated, her hands folded before her nervously. A gesture from her Uncle indicates she is to turn, and she obeys and faces the wall, her ill-concealed bottom on display.

The men continue to talk, at times becoming serious and at others lighthearted. Ashley, scared and embarrassed, doesn't follow their conversation. Soon, however, she becomes aware that they are rising from their chairs, and walking towards the dining room.

As he passes her on his way to the table, Edward indicates to Ashley to begin serving the luncheon.

The men sit at the table, talking while eating. In the center of the round, white cloth-covered table, a heavy oval silver serving platter holds a large fillet of cold, poached, salmon. A garnish of cream, dill, and cucumber slices graces the top of the fish. Between bites, the men enjoy a crisp, white wine from the Riesling.

The early mid-afternoon sunshine is softened by the white gauzy curtains leading through double doors to a verdant, flower rimmed, garden. Standing by the wall, Ashley, awaits one or another of the men to indicate to her to fill his glass. She does so carefully, biting her lip in concentration, afraid that a drop may spill from the bottle onto the tablecloth.

The men enjoy the sight of the girl bending to pour wine into their glasses, the more so as she now wears only her translucent panties, garter belt, and stockings below her skirt, which has now been rucked up into her garter belt in front. Her lace apron, which had gone some distance to hide her frontal charms from the men, now lies folded uselessly on a side table. It has been ordered removed as a result of a miniscule splash of wine caused when Ashley startled when the doctor placed his heavy hand on her defenseless bottom as she poured his wine.

As she reluctantly removed her apron, comments had been exchanged on the appearance of her frontal charms.

"Weston, your niece's regimen is paying off handsomely. Her well defined pudendum, thrusts out only slightly from her flat little tummy."

"Yes, and the trim line of her pubic hair is very gracious, and decorously exposes her well-shaven lips."

"Stand still, girl, it is hard to examine your little mound if it you insist on churning your legs, making those charming little lips dance back and forth!"

She had blushed furiously as the doctor and Mr. Parsons made her stand before them, almost nude below the waist, so they could gaze and comment on her young, female genitalia.

Foolishly, Ashley had still entertained hopes that the men would limit themselves to observing and commenting on her form, ash she served them practically nude below the waist. These vain hopes disappeared when she went to serve a slice of salmon to the doctor. As she had leaned towards the doctor to offer him the platter, Mr. Parsons, from whom she was leaning away, had slowly run his palm up the rear of her stockinged leg, then onto her creamy, exposed, inner thigh and brushed against the rearward pout of her pussy. She had quickly finished serving, and had moved to distance herself from his touch, only to be sharply reprimanded by her Uncle.

"Stay as you are, Ashley! You are not to be rude to our guests."

Parsons then slid his hand further between her legs, and ordered, "Spread your legs, young lady!" She had done so reluctantly, and Parsons slowly and thoroughly palpated and split her vulva through the flimsy gusset of her panties, as she trembled helplessly.

Her Uncle too had later placed a casually possessive hand under her garter strap as she served him, resting his palm on the naked skin of her upper thigh and the lower curve of one ass cheek.

Now the men were finished with their meal, and Ashley collected the plates, but was stopped. She was ordered to stand still between the two guests, and for an agonizing few minutes she panted frightenedly as they each casually palmed and squeezed one of her ass-cheeks apiece. The doctor had even reached over and pulled the material of her panties taut between her cheeks, baring most of her bottom to their eyes and hands. She stood, blushing furiously as the hands roved over her naked bottom, patting and pinching the bouncy globes freely. She was then made to pick up the plates, and sent to fetch the dessert.

From the kitchen, Ashley carried out a large tureen filled with berries. The men had concentrated on the berries and cream, eating the sweet greedily. Almost as if in slow motion, Ashley had been horrified to see a spot of the bright red liquid drop from the serving spoon she wielded onto the white table-cloth. She had pretended that it hadn't happened, but her heart had sunk when her Uncle pointed the spot out, and sighed, with an almost a pained reluctance,

"Ashley, Ashley, ... it seems you are in constant need of correction regarding your slovenliness. It is almost exhausting to have to keep up with your lack of grace. Gentlemen, I look to you to help me out at least this afternoon."

"Yes, of course, with pleasure," answered the doctor, "I believe that my own work on discipline can be applied to this young lady, and will definitely complement your efforts!"

Ashley was totally ignored for a moment, while the men finished their dessert and Edward served them brandy. They merely glanced at her occasionally, a smile playing on their lips and making her shudder.

Edward suggested cigars in the drawing room. They all stood and made their way out the door. As they left, Edward said:

"Just clear the table Ashley, and start on the dishes. We will be wanting you in the drawing room shortly. We will call you."

Slowly, fearfully, Ashley walked into the dark-paneled drawing room. Books surrounded the room on all sides, and light came from a collection of standing and desk lamps with warm yellow parchment shades. The large window was closed off with heavy red velvet drapes. A variety of deep, brown, leather chairs and a matching ottoman stood around the fire and the sides of the room, and a buttoned leather sofa faced the fireplace in which a small fire glowed.

Seated by the fire, Parsons and her Uncle sipped brandy from snifters, but their attention was turned towards the standing figure of the doctor, as he leaned back on the edge of the desk before the window. He spoke as the girl entered.

"Ah... Thank you so much for responding Ashley. Your Uncle has been describing to us some of your circumstances, and his attempts at improving your education and your self-esteem. You know, we all are deeply interested in the subject of education, and share a belief in the redemptive powers of discipline and humiliation when needed.

"Your Uncle has asked that this afternoon I direct the ... correction... of your pecadillos, Ashley. Yes, you will say, you have committed no grave faults. But a cornerstone of our philosophy of correction, as your Uncle may have explained to you, is that small faults overlooked will become bad habits, and must be eradicated by strong negative stimulus.

"What better way to provide this negative stimulus than to make you suffer humiliations of your maidenly prurience? To make you aware that your transgressions will result in our enjoying ourselves with your reluctant and submissive young body? Such is the obvious consequence, you must realize, of your ignoring the social graces that would otherwise naturally put a formal and correct distance between you and others. Yet, you've forgone that comfort.

"Please stand before the fire, facing us, hands behind your back!

"Now, Ashley, I understand that you have had your bottom, the visual and tactile acquaintance of which we've all been treated to during lunch, spanked frequently during your corrections, is that right?"

"...yes, sir," Ashley responded.

"Yes, naturally, a girl's bottom, especially one prominent and rounded such as yours, is an obvious place to administer correction. But, one should not ignore the novelty and effectiveness of punishing other areas of a young female's anatomy which are equally tempting. And these we shall explore some of today, Ashley!"

The girl gazed down at her slim feet in their high-heeled shoes, resting in the white fur carpet matching the one in the salon. Hot tears collecting in her eyes blurred her vision.

"Ashley, please remove your dress."

Slowly, Ashley unbuttoned the front of her maid's uniform, feeling the taut cloth spring open at her chest. She pulled the skirt out of the garter belt where it had been tucked, and now wearing only underwear and the ruffles of lace on her head and wrists, handed the dress to Parsons, who held out his hand for it.