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Monday, 22 January 2018

The Arrival 5 — Visitors

From Blushes Supplement 5
Three days of hard work passed for Maureen O’Connor. Sweeping, scrubbing, polishing. During that time she earned herself another spanking and what Gavin Proctor described as a ‘taste’ of the cane.
Maureen, it must be said, did not like the cane at all. She screamed and yelled the place down as willow bit into her bare flesh. Not that Gavin was particularly severe with her. It ensured, however, from that moment on, the girl was in mortal dread of him. She knew now what he could do and, therefore, would do whatever he demanded.
Softening up, Gavin called it. Soon Mr Cameron would be back from a holiday on his yacht; he would be delighted to find such a deliciously obedient submissive within his household. Once again Gavin Proctor would have established himself as a worthy retainer.
Having been permitted to go to bed at 8.30 pm, after a hard day, Maureen was unexpectedly aroused from sleep by the relentless man who now ruled her life. At his summons, she leapt out of bed, wearing the thinnest of nighties and a tiny pair of briefs.
‘We have guests,’ Gavin announced, ‘Come down and serve some food and drinks, you little hussy.’
‘Y-yes… sir… yes… right away…’ Maureen was shivering, still bemused by sleep. She was fast adjusting to living the life of a Middle Ages skivvy. All the same, she was shocked to find two of Gavin’s cronies sitting in one of the living rooms downstairs… and having to endure their lecherous eyes gazing through her flimsy nightie. How glad she was she had some knickers on, even if they were pretty transparent too.
The talk was coarse male talk. Maureen’s attributes were openly discussed by Gavin and his two friends. They spoke of her almost as if she were not in their presence. Rather as if she were a piece of furniture in the room. The shame of it all was abysmal, but Maureen O’Connor was now too cowed and frightened even to dare to protest in the slightest way.
‘That’s a nice red arse on her,’ said one.
‘Looks even better in the firelight,’ said another.
‘I am sorry to say,’ stated Gavin suavely, ‘that, in order to supervise a well-run household, it is sometimes necessary to apply corrective measures to the servants.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes, it is indeed.’
‘You’ve had to cane her, I see.’
‘Yes… yes… that was necessary. Maureen has been far better behaved since.
‘Can’t beat a cane across a girl’s bum for results, in my opinion.’
‘I’m fully in agreement with you. Maureen, serve the gentlemen some more stout. More sandwiches too. Jump to it!’
‘Yes, Mr Proctor… right away, sir.’
Poor little low-born Irish Maureen O’Connor certainly jumped to it. She now had no option. Ignorant of the world at large, she was now held virtually captive in a miniscule world of discipline. What little will she had once had, she could no longer exercise. Now terror of punishment ruled her life.
She hurried to do Gavin Proctor’s bidding. Nevertheless, she was still hideously conscious of the lusting male eyes upon her scantily-clad figure. She wanted to protest… to scream her horror. She dared do neither.
Quite defeated, Maureen O’Connor simply whimpered as she went about her duties.
Gavin Proctor was well-pleased with what he had accomplished within a few days. He admitted his subject had been an easy one but was well satisfied all the same. It would be a pleasure to present his latest acquisition to Mr Cameron. He just hoped that the cane weals would have disappeared by the weekend. Because the governor liked to get to work on a nice unmarked young bottom. Fair enough that. After all he paid the bills.

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