Sehnsucht Ch 04 Consequences

Down to the laundry with the suit in hand, I find myself smiling at the secret mischief I pulled with it the night before. I promptly head to the kitchen, grab a quick bite to eat, and get items prepared for breakfast. The drab staff is just having their usual banter but after yesterday I feel a changed woman. The breakfast bell summons me, and I do a quick check of my hair and uniform before heading in the dining room with a fluttering heart.

My mistress is at the head of the table with the stranger beside her. She appears to be glowing and is positioned just right in this morning's light. Purposefully I'm moving slowly with self-awareness should I stumble and give myself away. I use every fiber of my being to avoid glances at the stranger, but it's no use. I feel his eyes on me and in a moment of weakness he wins. His face just as lovely as I remember, but now wearing a devilish grin. I serve the mistress and her guest coffee first, and then lay out the fresh baked goods made this morning, accompanied with homemade jams, butter, goat cheese, and goose liver pâté. A conversation ensues as I'm about to take leave between the mistress and the stranger.

"The soirée should and will take place here in my domicile. Do not convince me otherwise," she insists.

"You are aware of the risks involved Madame?" the gentleman whispers.

I leave the dining room quietly, trying to absorb what I just heard. If there is going to be a party, then I hope it's not in the near future. The suit might not be ready and cleaned from the laundry!

The kitchen maid commandeers me in the hall and hands me a shopping list and some francs. I gladly take it and fetch my coat. This is the perfect time to shop for goods on market day, while they are at breakfast. The usual items I have preferred vendors for, but there are some other things that are not typical of the household and I can only hope that they are not intended for the soirée.

After my shopping is complete, I pull the note I found in the suit with the scribbled address. I backtrack towards the house and start my search of

Rue de la Liberte

. Thankfully, it's a short walk from home and I locate the building. It's a narrow stone building of two floors, with a wrought iron gate with Victorian flourishing. I hear the front door creek open and hide myself at the carpenter shop next door. The sound of footsteps are going in the opposite direction so I peak my head out and shockingly see the other uniformed gentleman walking away hurriedly.

Once he is out of sight I leave my hiding spot and pass by

6 Rue de la Liberte

. Looking upwards at the veranda I see a curious woman looking out the top right window. At first, I think I've seen a ghost. Her dress is old-fashioned but genteel. Her hair is in a chignon in a style similar to my former headmistress. Raising a brow, she glares at me disapprovingly. Forced to look away, I quicken my pace, feeling like such a foolish girl.

I make haste and my boots get me home as quick as a cat. The kitchen maid is there to greet me and I hand my satchel to her. I inquire about the extra items that were purchased and ask her kindly what they might be for.

"When Mistress requests things, I don't go asking questions. It's for her guests, I reckon," Blythe the maid says.

Time to check on the guest rooms. The gentleman's room is empty and his door is wide open so I do a quick inspection. Fix his bed, adjust his things on the bed table, take inventory of the kindling for the fire, and replace any soiled linens. Sitting on the chair is that leather bag that he forbade me to open. I check the hallway to make sure I am alone and lightly shut the door. I head to the bag and notice a small insignia on the front with some victorian flourishing and what appears to be a goblet in the middle. The design looks very similar to the the iron gate at

6 Rue de la Liberte

. Quickly I attempt to open the bag and find that it is locked. I hear the floor creak behind me and my heart stops.

"You disappoint me," the stranger says.

My legs remain stuck to the floor and I'm too mortified to face him.

"Why Fräulein? I thought I specifically asked you to stay clear of that bag, and yet you disrespected my wishes," he said.

"Curiosity got the best of me sir," I said trembling.

"I was hoping I could trust you, which is why I requested your services. I'm afraid now there will be consequences," he said curtly.

For some reason, I begin convulsing with laughter and manage to conceal it by pretending to clear my throat. Now would not be the time for me to showcase my childish naiveté, and I feel ashamed that I seem to have no control over my person.

"Fräulein, turn around and walk over to me," he commands.

I do everything in my power to make a sober expression. After all, this is very grave. The gentleman is sitting on the edge of the bed wearing his uniform pants, and a white buttoned shirt with a few of the top buttons opened revealing some faint chest hair. I keep my eyes averted downward when he grabs my wrist and pulls me closer to him. I can feel him looking up at me, so I close my eyes and distract myself by remembering the way I felt after my pet canary sang his last tune.

He then proceeds to pull me down and lay me over his lap. Part of me wants to fight, but I feel completely immobilized. He gently removes my bonnet and grabs a handful of my hair, and leans over with his breath caressing my neck and his lips getting dangerously close to my flesh. Whispering into my ear he says, "time for your spanking."

"Sorry sir, can you repeat that?" I ask pretending not to understand.

"It's time for your beating. But from now on, I'll ask the questions," he says.

"Yes, sir," I say hiding my grin.

He proceeds to run his hand up my leg lightly caressing my thighs which are shaking uncontrollably. He lifts my skirts up and I feel utterly shameful. No man, other than my Papa, has ever seen my underclothes. Is he really going to spank my bottom? He starts by lightly patting my rear in a rhythmic motion with each slap getting increasingly stronger. Why this doesn't hurt at all, and I find myself pushing into his hand instead of fighting it.

"Good girl," he says.

Hearing those words of approval coming from his mouth makes me feel frenzied and featherbrained. When the spanking turns into a thudding motion, my nether region begins to ache. The stranger quickly pulls down my bloomers and I feel an arousing sense of humiliation. He proceeds to lightly stroke my bottom with his strong hands when I start to feel a stout hump growing underneath me from what I can only imagine are the strangers trousers. The slapping of my bare bottom and the tingly hot feeling of his bare strong calloused hands sends a delicious sensation into my loins. Who would have ever thought a spanking could feel like this? Nothing like the spankings I used to receive from Papa. I couldn't help but moan out loud. He was taking my breath away.

"Shhh...keep quiet," he said with labored breathing. I make my hand into a fist and bite down to keep from uttering a sound. He stops the spanking and begins to caress my buttocks and then slowly moves his fingers up to my trembling slit. "Disgraceful little girl. You are very wet. Perhaps I should stop this punishment," he says while continuing to play with my dripping wet lips.

"No. Please sir. Your punishment is working. I will be a good maid...girl," I beg.

"Good, keep begging," he says.

"Sir, teach me how to be a good girl. I will do everything you ask," I cry desperately.

While teasing me with his fingers he tells me the following. "From now on, your body is not yours. You are not allowed to pleasure yourself without my permission. Every climax is mine. You must earn them as they are my gift to you. Understand?" he commands.

I hear everything he is saying as if it's coming from far away. All of my senses are heightened as I feel his phallus growing stronger. I can't help but start grinding my clit against his wool breeches, unavoidably comparing it to the empty suit that was in my bedroom a few hours before.

"Get up!" he yells while pulling me to my feet by my hair. I can barely stand as my knees are shaking. He proceeds by dressing me back into my uniform and I become mesmerized watching him take so much care. I notice his bulge standing at attention against his pants has a visible stain, and for some reason that satisfies me.

He walks me to the door and I grab the linens and curtsy before leaving. Hearing him shut the door behind me, I notice the real world coming into focus with dread.

My body is not mine.