Story from Janus 35 by R.T. Mason
‘I just hope you see one you like,’ said Mrs Greenaway, smiling across the breakfast table at her husband.
Henry Greenaway, in his fifties like his wife and like her quite ordinary-looking, put the official letter down with a look of satisfaction. It stated that there was a consignment of maids coming through Southwood on the train on Monday next; that four of them were as yet unassigned to homes, and that Mr Henry Greenaway’s name was now at the top of the Maid Assignment List in the Southwood area.
Mrs Miriam Greenaway had a look of satisfaction too, for Henry had been growing noticeably ill-tempered and snappy just lately and it had been getting on Miriam Greenaway’s nerves a little. The trouble was that Henry was used to having a maid and it was now all of three weeks since the last one, Rose, had left.
In a way of course it was Henry’s own fault because he did tend to change maids rather frequently. He liked to have a girl until her novelty wore off and then change her for another. That was all right, quite legitimate, but on this occasion he had let Rose go and then there had been no other unassigned girls coming through. Or at least insufficient of them to get as far as Henry’s name on the Assignment List. Yes, it had been largely Henry’s own fault but Miriam had naturally refrained from telling him this.
‘Yes, Henry dear,’ she had said, ‘I agree with you,’ when he had gone on yet again about inefficiency in Utopia in general — and in particular regarding the supply of maids. ‘Yes Henry,’ she said, and got on with her knitting. All Miriam wanted was a nice quiet life. And so she was naturally quite relieved now that the letter had arrived.
With four girls to choose from Henry should be suited. And then for some months to come, until he got bored with her, everything should be nice and relaxed at Number 14, Plumtree Lane, in the pleasant little town of Southwood. Except for the girl that is — things would not necessarily be relaxed for her. Because Henry, in spite of his mild appearance, could be quite fierce with the cane. But then that was the purpose of Maid Service — to instill a proper sense of discipline into teenage girls.
‘Yes, it certainly will be a relief,’ Miriam said as she poured Henry another cup of tea. ‘And have you seen that new shop in the High Street? They have some very nice maid’s things. Quite, well, sexy, some of the outfits.’
Henry was not about to count his chickens before they were hatched. ‘First of all I’ll have to see if there is a girl I like the look of. But, yes, I have noticed the place. Isn’t it called Maidenly Modes?’
The train drew into Southwood precisely on time and as the letter had stated carried a consignment of ten girls in the charge of a junior official from the Department of Education and Youth Discipline. All ten girls were taken off the train and into a waiting room. Six of them had already been assigned to homes — one in Southwood and the other five at various other stopping points on the way to Ashdown.
The four unassigned girls were available for selection by those householders at the top of the Maid Assignment List. And at the very top of the Southwood List, giving him first choice, was, as we have seen, Mr Henry Greenaway. Once any selections had been made here the remainder of the girls would embark on the next train, to resume their journey towards Ashdown, at the end of the line.
This was standard procedure, taking place all the time and all over the State of Utopia — daughters of Lower Class families, once they had reached the age of 18, being first given a period of preliminary training in the Ministry and then assigned to Middle Class homes to fulfil their State-required one year of domestic service.
A householder could keep a girl for her whole year of service or he could, as Mr Henry Greenaway tended to do, have a girl for a shorter period of time after which she would be available to another householder, or more than one, until her one year’s service was up. After that a girl’s obligation to the State in this respect was over; and she was free to do as she wanted — get another, paid, job; get married; etc etc.
Middle Class girls, while not required to do Maid Service, had to attend special educational establishments between the age of 18 and 20. The regime at these places was notably strict so they, like the Lower Class girls, would get a frequent taste of the cane or strap. All young males of the same age had to do State Service on farms or in factories. All in all, the system seemed to work very well, producing a sense of discipline and responsibility in young adults which had been singularly lacking before all this had been introduced.
In Southwood then, on this Monday morning in June, the four unassigned girls were taken from the other six into a separate smaller ante-room. The middle-aged man from the Ministry who was their escort ticked off their names, then went out to where five hopeful-looking Southwood citizens (all male naturally) were waiting.
One man, certainly not our Mr Greenaway, said, ‘What’re they like? Anything nice?’ Then with a loud laugh added, ‘I’m looking for one with a nice big pair of tits!’
His fellow citizens did not find this at all amusing. You might well be looking for a girl with large breasts but you did not announce it to all and sundry in this coarse manner. Quite probably this man had only recently achieved Middle Class status and with it the privilege, among other things, of maid-ownership.
The official said primly, ‘I think this consignment of girls includes the normal range of physical sizes. Now, I have a Mr Greenaway first on my list.’
Henry stepped briskly forward and followed the official into the anteroom. The four girls who were sitting in docile fashion all stood up obediently as the two men entered. All four were wearing the standard summer version of Ministry training dress — a short-sleeved, knee-length, blue cotton frock buttoning down the front — with stockings and brown sensible shoes. Once a maid was in a person’s employ, of course, he could dress her as exotically as he liked.
All the girls wore silver Ministry necklaces with their names inscribed on the plate in front. And each had a matching bracelet on her right wrist with a blank plate on it. This would take the name of her employer.
Henry Greenaway looked at the four girls standing submissively in a line — and almost immediately knew he wanted the blonde, second from the left. She was of medium height and he could see at once had a good figure. And her face, softly pretty with big blue eyes and full-lipped mouth, in a frame of short blonde curls, was decidedly appealing. Yes, very much the type of young girl Henry liked.
He told her to step forward. Her name, he saw on her necklace, was Susan Smith. Henry reached out, to feel her breasts. They were a good size and nicely firm in the light bra she had on under the dress. He told her to turn, then lifted the back of her skirt. Her bottom, in tight blue regulation knickers, really was very good — quite full cheeks but at the same time firm and resilient as he ran his hand lightly over the taut knickers.
Henry dropped the girl’s skirt and told her to stand back in line. He had a cursory look at the other three — two brunettes, a redhead. They were all quite attractive, so that the whole of this morning’s assignment was good. But Henry’s mind had been made up virtually from the beginning.
‘I’ll take the blonde — Susan,’ he told the official.
The man nodded, then looked through his papers. ‘Yes, I think you’ve made a good choice. She’s straight out of Training — no previous employer — and she had very high marks in both obedience and all-round performance. I think you’ll be well satisfied with her.’
They collected Susan’s suitcase. Henry introduced himself and Susan said politely, ‘Thank you for choosing me, sir.’ Then they walked out onto the sunny Southwood street to Henry’s waiting car.
As they drove the short distance to Plumtree Lane Henry asked Susan about her Training Establishment. They differed of course and some were regrettably a little more lenient than others. But it seemed that Susan’s had been quite strict for she said she had received the cane each evening before supper.
‘Any strapping?’ asked Henry.
‘Yes. We got the cane from our tutor but the other instructors used the strap. I suppose most days I got a strapping as well as the cane.’
Henry slipped one hand down, pushing back the blue Ministry skirt to lightly squeeze a stockinged thigh. ‘It sounds as if you’re well-trained then.’
‘Oh yes, sir. I think so,’ she answered.
But well-trained or not Henry Greenaway was certainly going to want to use the cane and the strap himself. That quite frankly was one of the chief pleasures in having a maid. He squeezed the nicely-rounded thigh in keen anticipation.
At Number 14 Plumtree Lane, Susan was introduced to Miriam who said she’d make her a cup of tea. She would tell Susan her household duties a bit later, when Henry had got her settled in. Household duties would not be very onerous of course because of extensive use of labour-saving devices. Susan’s main role was to be at Henry’s beck and call and, well, keep him amused.
Susan drank her tea and then Henry asked if she would like a bath after the hot journey. Susan, eager to agree to anything her new employer might suggest, said ‘Yes please’. She got her wash things from her suitcase and Henry took her into the bathroom. It was naturally an excellent opportunity for him to have a good look at his new acquisition. He ran the bath, then sat down on the bathroom stool to watch Susan undress.
Shoes, blue Ministry dress, bra, knickers, finally white suspender belt and the brown stockings — they all came off. She really was a comely young person — all sweetly rounded curves, adorned with two pink nipples and the neat light-brown bush down below. She climbed shyly into the bath. Henry, eyes glowing, soaped her back... and then her front...
Susan rinsed herself and climbed out. Her employer was ready with a large towel. ‘Have you got a boyfriend?’ he asked as he rubbed her dry.
Susan said shyly, ‘Yes, Mr Greenaway.’
Henry playfully flipped the end of the towel at the brown bush. ‘Well, he’s welcome to come and see you, Susan. I know a girl can get rather frustrated if she’s got a boyfriend and never sees him.’
Susan gratefully said ‘Thank you’ for this, then started dressing — fresh knickers and bra plus the other things she had taken off. They would go to the shop after lunch and see about some outfits, said Henry.
Then he said there was another matter he might as well mention. Sex. Although of course in Utopia a maid could be required to have sex with her employer, and many employers did insist on this, Henry himself would not be requiring it. He would naturally be using the cane and the strap on her but she would not be required to have sex.
Susan looked decidedly relieved at this and said ‘Thank you very much, sir.’ Although Mr Greenaway seemed a very pleasant gentleman she was glad she wasn’t going to have to do that. Being strapped and caned — well, it hurt but you knew you couldn’t avoid that.
Henry took Susan along to her room and then he did what quite frankly he had been wanting to do ever since he had set eyes on her. He gave her a good sound spanking. Not for any specific short-coming on Susan’s part but simply the fact that a maid should be spanked (and caned and strapped) regularly and often. It was really the most important part of her training.
And so Henry Greenaway sat down on the girl’s bed and took the pretty 18-year-old across his lap. And pulled up that blue skirt and then pulled down that fresh pair of blue cotton knickers, down to the tops of her stockings. And after a little preliminary fondling of what really was a splendidly ripe bottom, he proceeded to deliver sharp stinging smacks to first one plump cheek and then the other.
Henry was an expert at spanking girls’ bottoms — it was after all one of his main pleasures in life — and he really knew how to make it sting. So Susan, if not actually crying, was at once oooching and ooowwing and squirming that delectable backside in a frenzied dance, as her new employer’s hand vigorously rose and fell.
Henry was still engaged in this invigorating work when the door opened and Miriam walked in. She was greeted with the sight of lowered knickers and the new maid’s bare bottom, now decidedly rosy in colour. And Henry’s hand in mid-descent.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry dear,’ apologised Miriam who did not like to disturb Henry when he was busy in this manner. ‘I was just wondering when you’d be ready for lunch.’
Henry rested his hand on the reddened rear. His own face likewise had a healthy glow. ‘I’ll be ready very shortly, m’dear. I had just about finished giving Susan a little warming up.’
Miriam went out and Henry, after a few more spanks, pushed the girl to her feet. She was red-faced as well as red-bottomed.
‘You can pull your knickers up now, Susan. And then go and see if you can help Mrs Greenaway in the kitchen. Oh, and you can bring me a sherry in the lounge.’
Susan brought the sherry and then served the excellent lunch which Miriam had cooked. Then she cleared away and brought Mr and Mrs Greenaway coffee in the lounge; and then had her own lunch.
And after that, well, Henry felt he really must. It was an urge he couldn’t resist — or certainly felt no need to. Just a couple of strokes with the cane — nothing serious, merely a touching-up of that delectable bum which before lunch he had so enjoyably spanked. He took Susan up to her room again and made her lie herself over the bed. The skirt came up again and the knickers came down.
He used his favourite medium-weight rattan cane — an instrument which had over the years bitten into the bottoms of a whole succession of 18- and 19-year-old girls. It duly bit into the bare bottom of Susan Smith — four times. And produced four desperate yelps of pain, because Ministry training or not, a caning was a caning and it really stung. As it was meant to.
It was just what Henry needed after lunch and as far as he was concerned, and indeed as far as the State of Utopia was concerned, it was just what Susan needed as well.
After that Henry told Miriam that he thought he’d take Susan down to that new shop in the High Street. Miriam herself was going out to visit one of her friends. She smiled happily at Henry. It really was good to see him so buoyant and cheerful again and quite got over that rather grumpy patch. But then she had known that all he needed to get him right was a new maid, and he certainly seemed taken with this Susan.
Under a cloudless blue sky Henry Greenaway and Susan walked briskly towards the High Street and that new shop, Maidenly Modes. It was such a nice afternoon that Henry had decided not to take the car so as to give himself and his new maid a little healthful exercise. For Susan, walking at least did something to ease the sting in her bottom.
‘Well, what d’you think?’ asked Henry when they reached the shop.
Its two windows were filled with a splendid display of maids’ clothing, ranging from demure Victorian outfits to the most exotic creations. There were short slinky form-fitting outfits, and others with the skirts slit virtually up to the waist. There were backless dresses and topless dresses. There was one dress in white silk in which the back of the skirt was deeply scooped out to display the cheeks of the wearer’s bottom. ‘For wear with or without knickers’ said the caption.
There were silk and nylon stockings in all shades and textures, and a similar range of suspender belts. There were knickers and bras in all colours and degrees of brevity. There were glossy stiletto-heeled shoes. There were running shorts and tops, and swimsuits, for those who thought their girls should engage in healthy exercise; and there was a range of glamorous bed-time wear, presumably aimed mostly at those with other, indoor, activities in mind. And of course together with all this was an excellent selection of canes and straps.
At one of the windows two youths with bicycles were standing gazing raptly at the display. They had glanced up as Henry and Susan arrived, then one of them exclaimed, ‘Hello, Mr Greenaway.’
Henry saw it was the son of one of his acquaintances, Jack Easterby. The boy, Tom, was in his last term of school and would soon be doing his one year’s State Service.
Both boys now looked with interest at Susan. Tom asked, ‘Is that your new maid, Mr Greenaway?’
Henry said it was, and introduced Susan to Tom. The youth’s eyes ran greedily over the pretty girl. ‘Gosh, she’s really nice, Mr Greenaway. Are you buying her some clothes? Why don’t you get her that dress with no bottom. She’d look super in that!’
Susan flushed scarlet at being discussed like this by a boy virtually her own age.
Henry smiled and said, ‘Maybe I’ll think about it.’
Patting Susan’s bottom he pointed her towards the shop entrance. He knew Jack Easterby was rather lenient with Tom and let him spank and cane the family maid (in fact Henry had suspicions that that was not all Tom Easterby was allowed to do to her). Frankly Henry did not believe in such an indulgent attitude. The strict State Service regime which the boy would shortly be getting was exactly what he needed, as far as Henry was concerned.
Inside the shop a pleasant-faced man, fortyish, came forward to greet Henry. He introduced himself as Arthur Fairfield, the proprietor, and said that although he had only recently opened this Southwood branch he had had a Maidenly Modes shop in Ashdown for some years.
‘So I think I know what the discerning customer wants,’ he said. Then looking at Susan — ‘A new maid, is she?’
Henry said Yes she was. Mr Fairfield looked Susan over, then reached behind her and squeezed her bottom.
‘Very attractive!’ he pronounced. ‘Yes, you’ve got a nice one there. Mmm — I wouldn’t mind tickling her up with the cane myself.’
Mr Fairfield looked again at Henry. ‘I tell you what. Have a good look round. Then if there’s anything you like you can have 20 per cent off the price — if I can have a few swishes at this young lady’s bottom.’
Henry looked thoughtful. Such offers were by no means unknown in Utopia when you walked into a shop with a pretty maid. Well, during her year of Maid Service a girl was supposed to get plenty of caning. The only thing was, he hadn’t really had a chance to have a good go at her himself yet. On the other hand he did want to buy a number of things and 20 per cent off was not to be sneezed at.
‘Twenty per cent off the total purchase?’ queried Henry.
Mr Fairfield confirmed this, and Henry then said Yes. Susan, who had had to stand submissively by while it was decided whether or not she would get the extra caning from this stranger, did not look at all happy.
But liking it or not was neither here nor there. Henry told her to take her Ministry dress off and then began trying various dresses on her — including that white silk one which displayed the bottom. For this Susan was made to take her knickers off as well, so that the dress could be seen at its best. It was form-fitting, high-necked and calf-lengthed and the rounded cut-out at the back displayed the whole of Susan’s bare bottom superlatively.
Henry and Mr Fairfield and the young male shop assistant all looked admiringly. Mr Fairfield stepped forward to make some slight adjustment — but really simply an excuse to run his hand over Susan’s beautiful backside. Henry really liked the dress, but it was expensive.
Henry finally purchased quite a range of items — dresses, underwear, night-attire. And after considerable thought he did take the no-bottom dress. All in all, with the 20 per cent reduction in mind, he bought quite a lot more than he would otherwise have done. Mr Fairfield rang it all up at the till — quite a tidy sum.
The proprietor beamed. ‘Very good! Now I’ll take my 20 per cent, Mr Greenaway. Shall we take her into the back room?’
He told the assistant to mind the shop, then took Henry and Susan through to the back room. There was an upright chair which Mr Fairfield placed in the middle of the floor; and the unhappy Susan, now dressed again, was made to get over it, so that her bottom was up over the seat and her hands down on the floor.
Mr Fairfield pulled her skirt up to her waist, then slipped down the blue cotton knickers. Susan’s bottom was once more on display. The shopkeeper ran his hand appreciatively over it. Henry watched with a quizzical expression. He wasn’t really happy about letting Mr Fairfield get at her when she was so fresh and new, but, well, he had made a considerable saving. And he was watching...
Mr Fairfield, eyes gleaming, went to get his cane. And shortly there was an agonised ‘Aaooohh!’ from Susan. The pretty bottom was desperately dancing and now had a bright red stripe transversely across the fullest curve of the cheeks. Mr Fairfield had really lashed that cane down! Henry’s face bore a rather green look. He did not at all enjoy the sight of that red stripe put on Susan by a stranger.
Four more red stripes followed. At which point Henry said that that was quite enough. After a more-or-less friendly exchange between the two men it was agreed that Mr Fairfield could give her two more. There were tears in the pretty blue eyes, and also running down the pretty cheeks, when Mr Fairfield had finished. For he really had made sure he’d got his money’s worth. And once a cane stroke has been applied, there is naturally no way it can be rescinded.
The tearful Susan was told she could pull up her knickers. Henry felt quite glad to have them up again and, needless to say, Susan was even more relieved that the painful caning was over. Mr Fairfield said ‘Very nice!’, then promised he would have the goods delivered to Plumtree Lane that same afternoon.
Out in the sunny street again Henry said they might as well drop in at the engraving shop, further up the High Street, to get Susan’s bracelet done. Here in the centre of town there were quite a few people about; mostly housewives doing their shopping or chatting, and retired men of Henry’s age or older. Some of the housewives and the men were accompanied by a maid.
Occasionally an unaccompanied maid was to be seen, doing an errand or shopping for her family. Many men, though, did not like to send a maid out by herself as she would inevitably be stopped, and not infrequently handled, by strange men. This could legitimately be done on the excuse of checking up that a girl had a local address on her bracelet and thus had not run away from her home.
Maids did not frequently run away, even from homes where they were badly treated, because the penalty for such an offence was severe. But it did occasionally happen and this provided an excuse to stop an unaccompanied girl, check her bracelet and then, as she was further questioned, fondle her breasts and/or her buttocks. It was also not unknown for an accoster to make some trumped-up accusation — that she had been loitering, chatting to young Lower Class males, etc — and threaten to report her for this unless she went with him for an impromptu spanking or caning.
A maid caught in this predicament would usually submit and subsequently say nothing about it rather than risk having the charge brought against her; because to be accused of such offences could mean not just trouble with her employer, she would also be up before the Maid Disciplinary Board. And that was certainly not something a girl could contemplate with equanimity.
So while there were one or two unescorted maids to be seen in the centre of Southwood, there were no more than that. Those that were about were presumably from homes where the master wasn’t too bothered if his maid got manhandled or worse; or indeed a man might deliberately send a girl out on her own as a punishment for something or other, with the full knowledge that she might get a casual caning from a stranger.
Henry and Susan found the engraver in a conveniently slack period and he said he could do it there and then. The engraver, a white-haired but sprightly man in his sixties, obviously liked the look of Susan, as Mr Fairfield had. And he reacted in a similar way to the Maidenly Modes proprietor. Henry could have the engraving done for half price if he, the engraver, could have Susan over his lap for a spanking.
But Henry now had had quite enough of seeing his property used by strangers. The engraver got a polite but firm ‘No thank you’. He smiled philosophically and got on with the job — though working in such a way, when he’d got Susan seated in his chair, that one of his bare arms was pleasantly rubbing across the peaks of her breasts. Then, still smiling, he charged Henry a price that was somewhat over the odds.
With Susan’s bracelet engraved Henry had planned to return to Plumtree Lane, but then he thought that as it was nearby they might as well have a look in at the Maid Disciplinary Board offices. At this time of the afternoon there was frequently a Public Caning taking place and that was always a stimulating sight. At the same time of course it would do Susan no harm to see it, for such a spectacle was most effective in keeping a girl up to scratch.
They went into the Disciplinary Board offices, and through into the Public Caning Room where sure enough a girl was just being led out into the central caning area. The room was like an auditorium with tiers of seats rising on three sides from the central well, and there was a good number of male Southwood citizens present. They would not only be Middle Class men of course; Lower Class citizens were also permitted to watch Public Canings and indeed these were very popular with Lower Class men, in part at least because they were not themselves allowed to have maids.
The girl, a pretty, well-built brunette, was wearing the Disciplinary Board caning dress — a plain green knee-length cotton frock, the skirt of which had a central split up the back from hem to waist. She would have nothing else on. The dress would have been put on her after the Board had considered her case, whatever her offence was, and had come to their decision. The Board was made up of Local Middle Class men serving in rotation. Henry Greenaway himself had served on the Board a year ago.
The brunette was with a Board member, a middle-aged man in slacks and shirtsleeves and tie, with a cane in his hand. In the middle of that space at the focus of all the seats was a narrow trestle bench, about hip high. The girl, with her back to the audience of male watchers, was made to bend over the bench and grip the rail low down on the other side.
Her bottom, facing the watchers, was thus elevated and was automatically bared as the two sides of the split skirt slid apart. The man with the cane pushed the sides of the skirt further open, to fully expose the girl’s plump bare backside.
He then announced, ‘The girl is to get eight strokes.’
He proceeded to give her them. Eight viciously searing slashes that produced desperate yelps and frenetic writhings from the unfortunate offender. But though her bottom and legs went into the frenzied dance each time the cane landed, she made sure she hung onto that rail, with tensely clenched hands. For she had been told there would be an extra stroke for every time either of her hands broke away.
Henry and Susan, in seats quite near the front, had a perfect view of the performance. For Susan it was so awful she didn’t really want to look, yet at the same time there was a horrible fascination which forced her to do so. She could all too easily picture herself out there with everyone’s eyes focused on her bare bottom while that cane came thrashing down. Watching this at least made that painful caning she had just got from the Maidenly Modes man not seem quite so bad.
Henry, next to Susan and with his arm possessively around her shoulders, watched with keen interest. A Public Caning was always exciting. What was perhaps even more exciting, though, was to have one’s own maid in here for a Public Caning — although he would only want to do that with Susan when he had had her a little while and was not feeling quite so possessive about her.
Henry had had Rose, his previous maid, here for a Public Caning on three occasions before he let her go. All three for minor more-or-less imaginary faults, but it had been a real turn-on to see Rose get the canings before the assembled groups of his fellow citizens. He pictured Susan out there, with bottom bare. The thought was very arousing but he would not want to do it yet awhile. He tightened his arm round her slim shoulders, loving the feel of her...
They watched a couple of other girls get canings and then went out. Outside the sun was still shining brightly down on the pretty town of Southwood.
‘How would you like a touch of that?’ asked Henry, slipping his arm round Susan’s pert waist.
Susan shuddered. ‘I... it... was just awful, Mr Greenaway.’
Henry laughed. ‘Well it’s only for naughty girls of course. You’ll just have to make sure you’re not naughty, won’t you?’
Henry Greenaway’s hand slipped down and his fingers nipped his maid’s shapely bottom.
Back at Number 14 Plumtree Lane Miriam had returned and the delivery from Maidenly Modes had also arrived. Miriam said there had been a phone call just a quarter of an hour earlier from Fiona Easterby.
‘She seemed to know you had the new maid, Henry. Did you see Tom in town or something? Anyway it was obvious that Jack wanted to come round and see her so I invited them round for drinks this evening. That’s all right, isn’t it?’
Henry frowned. It wasn’t really all right. Well, he’d only got the girl that morning and already people were wanting to come round and meet her. Meeting her of course meant giving her a spanking or strapping or something, because that was what Jack Easterby would want and you could not refuse it to a social acquaintance. Not that Henry minded that much but, well, he would have preferred a quiet evening with the girl to himself. And another thing:
‘I suppose the boy, Tom, will be coming as well?’ Henry queried testily.
‘Well, I think so, dear. Fiona said she thought Tom would like to come, and I could hardly say No. Tom is a very well-mannered boy, Henry.’
He might be well-mannered — but he would also want to have a go at Susan like his father. Henry could almost hear Jack Easterby — ‘Come on, Henry, the lad’s almost 18.’ And Henry would be obliged to acquiesce.
However Henry could only accept the situation, with as good a grace as possible. After all he had caned the Easterbys’ maid — on more than one occasion. Give and take — and try to smile politely.
Susan made Henry and Miriam a pot of tea and then had to prepare the vegetables for the evening meal, while Henry showed his wife some of the items he had bought at Maidenly Modes. Frankly Miriam had no great interest in sexy wear for maids but she did her best to appear interested. Henry, like most other men, liked to dress his maids up in sexy clothes and Miriam regarded it as a harmless enough whim. It did mean he was happy to be at home rather than out drinking or whatever.
There wasn’t really time for Henry to have a leisurely trying-on session with Susan, what with those Easterbys coming after supper. That pleasure would have to wait until tomorrow, but at least it was something to look forward to. Henry had decided for tonight on a tight slinky black dress which had the short skirt slit up both sides to mid-thigh. He certainly wasn’t having Susan in that no-bottom dress for the benefit of Jack and Tom Easterby.
The visitors arrived on the dot at 8 o’clock — Jack a genial heavily-built man of about 50 and Fiona, a few years younger, a well-preserved good-looking brunette. Tom, their son, Susan had already seen. She took their coats and then brought drinks into the sitting room. The two male Easterbys with Henry were soon crowding round her, while Fiona and Miriam sat with their drinks on the sofa.
‘Yes, I see what you mean — she really is a smasher!’ observed Jack Easterby heartily. ‘You’ll have some fun with this one, eh Henry?’
Susan flushed — and flinched. Jack Easterby straightaway had one hand at her bottom, squeezing it through the tight dress. She certainly was looking very attractive, her full soft mouth emphasised by the wet-look pink lipstick that she had put on at Henry’s suggestion.
Young Tom was looking greedy-eyed at Susan as she stood somewhat uncertainly holding the drinks tray. Behind her Jack Easterby’s fingers were intimately reaching in under the curve of her bottom. Fiona looked up at the three men with Susan and gave a little laugh.
‘Henry dear, please put Jack out of his misery. You know he’ll just be on tenterhooks until he’s had that girl over his lap! And I don’t suppose that boy of mine is much different.’
Henry put a brave face on it. ‘Certainly Jack. You’re my guest, so feel free to give her a little spanking whenever you like. She needs plenty of it, anyway, being new.’
Jack Easterby was not going to need a second invitation. ‘Well, if you don’t mind, Henry. I’ll take her up to her room, shall I?’
Henry was certainly not keen on that. He would much rather it was done down here in front of all the others — where for one thing the presence of the two wives might have some inhibiting effect on any major liberties Jack felt like taking. But on the other hand he could hardly insist.
Henry tried to sound nonchalant. ‘Of course — if you don’t want us to see you in action.’
Jack Easterby could have a very thick skin when it suited him. ‘Yes, I think I’ll take her up to her room. What d’you say, young Susan?’
Young Susan didn’t say anything — as Jack’s fingers pinched into the undercurve of her bum. And then propelled her towards the door.
Hot-faced, she ascended the stairs — with Jack close behind her and his hand now up inside the tight skirt, between the soft bare thighs above her stocking tops. Cringing, she led the way to her room. Jack Easterby closed the door behind them.
‘Up!’ he barked, hot-eyed, indicating her skirt. ‘Get it up round your waist. And then come here.’
Susan struggled the tight black skirt up round her waist. Underneath, her black seamed nylons were fastened with the narrow straps of a black suspender belt. Her brief nylon knickers were black too. Mr Easterby, sitting on her bedside chair, pulled her over his lap, then unceremoniously grabbed the black knickers down, to the tops of her stockings.
And then his hand was fondling — and spanking; and spanking and groping; and then yet more spanking interspersed with fondling gropes. It went on and on and it was simply awful. But then being a maid in Utopia was intended to be a rather unpleasant experience. Jack Easterby, while enjoying himself, was also doing what the State recommended, i.e. giving a Lower Class 18-year-old female a thoroughly unpleasant time.
Jack was finally finished and the distressed Susan was pushed to her feet. Then after some more unpleasant touching she was permitted to pull up her knickers and pull down the tight skirt. Jack Easterby, aroused by the spanking, would have liked to do something else to Susan but he knew that would be overstepping the mark. He was aware that Henry Greenaway didn’t have sex with his maids himself and would certainly not sanction anyone else doing it. Still, there was Jack’s own maid, Anne, at home — not to mention his still attractive wife.
Mr Easterby and Susan duly reappeared downstairs in the sitting room. ‘Most enjoyable, Henry!’ said Jack enthusiastically. ‘She’s got a lovely bum on her.’
Young Tom, eager-eyed, was immediately pleading, with the urgency of youth, ‘Mr Greenaway — can I have a go now, please!’
It was no more than Henry had expected. He would like to refuse but knowing the attitude of the boy’s parents, there was no way he could. Furthermore he had to let Tom, like his father, take Susan up to the privacy of her room. (According to Fiona Easterby the poor boy was still a bit shy.)
And so once more the unfortunate Susan found herself in her room with a male Easterby — this one perhaps even worse than his father.
‘C’mere you hot little slag!’ commanded the youth who Miriam had described as a well-mannered boy, as soon as the bedroom door was closed.
He just grabbed Susan and pushed her down on the bed, one hand snaking up between her legs and his tongue thrusting itself wetly into Susan’s mouth. She struggled wildly with her previous assailant’s son who was of course stronger than she was.
‘I’ll give you a pound if you let me do you and you don’t tell Mr Greenaway,’ Tom gasped, his fingers clawing at the buttons of Susan’s dress.
Struggling as best she could, Susan desperately shook her head. She at least realised Mr Greenaway would not make her give Tom what he wanted. When Tom saw there was no way he was going to be able to do it without his host knowing he changed his tack. He let go of Susan and got up off the bed.
‘Right, you slag! Take off all your clothes and we’ll see how you like a taste of my belt.’
Half sitting, half lying on the bed, Susan watched him take the belt out of the loops of his trousers and wind the buckle round his fist. She knew there was no way she could stop this happening. She started crying.
‘Come on, you snivelling slag!’ spat out the Easterbys’ well-mannered son. He whipped the end of the belt across Susan’s bare arm.
Two hours later Susan Smith, in a fetching waist-length white nightie, lay still and silent in her bed. Her first day at Number 14 Plumtree Lane was at last mercifully over. It had been a really awful day culminating in that session with the Easterbys’ dreadful son — when she’d been forced to take off all her clothes except her suspender belt and nylons and shoes, and then was made to lie face-down over the bed while he laid into her buttocks and thighs with the belt.
The hateful youth had made a couple of further attempts at getting what he fervently wanted but Susan had adamantly refused — and of course simply got more of that belt, ‘for being such a cold bitch’. He had only finally finished when he’d got bored with it.
Downstairs afterwards, with Susan still whimpering, Mrs Easterby had smiled indulgently at her son. ‘All right, dear?’ Shortly afterwards the visitors had left.
Yes, it had been a truly dreadful first day but probably no more dire than many another Lower Class girl’s introduction to her year’s State Service in Utopia. And quite possibly, Susan thought, shuddering, no more awful, either, than the way life was going to continue here at Number 14 Plumtree Lane.
Susan knew her alarm was going to go off at 6 o’clock tomorrow morning and she would have to jump immediately out of bed, wash and brush her teeth, and then put on a dressing gown over that virtually non-existent nightie she was wearing, to go downstairs to make morning tea for her employers. Then take the tea into first Mrs Greenaway’s room and then Mr Greenaway’s.
But before she went into Mr Greenaway’s room she must first take off the dressing gown and put on, with the waist-length nightie, a pair of white silk stockings and a white satin suspender belt and high-heeled white shoes. Mr Greenaway had told her this a quarter of an hour ago when he had helped her get ready for bed. He wanted Susan to be looking really nice first thing in the morning, he said.
And the rest of the day — well, doubtless her employer would have his cane and his strap in action again. One thing Susan did know was that in the evening there was to be a party at the Easterbys’. A number of men were going to bring their maids round. The wives would not be there — because apparently it was not the sort of party that wives would be invited to.
‘We’ll probably play some amusing games,’ Mr Greenaway had said.
Susan had no idea what these games were but she felt pretty sure she and the other maids would not find them very amusing. She turned her face into the pillow, trying to think of her boyfriend back home, trying for the moment anyway to forget this whole nightmare. One day was gone at least — only 364 to go.