Lady Heather s Maid
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A Day In The Life Of A Ladies Maid free porn video
A Day in the Life of a Ladies Maid - By: Amy Browne
THE MAIDS VIEW OF THE DAY
I rise as soon as the alarm wakes me, although I am still very tired as
a rule during the week anyway. I have to get up as soon as I hear the
clock or else I will fall asleep again. I softly creep down stairs to
the little bathroom beside the kitchen, go to the toilet and wash. I'm
supposed to scrub myself but my bottom is usually so sore that I can't
bear to. I have to iron my clothes before I can get dressed. I light
the fire in the kitchen first, put a pot of porridge on and the kettle
and then go upstairs to clean out the grates in the other rooms and
light fires in them if the weather is cold, if not I simply give them a
polish with blacklead. I run the milk bottles up the back steps, I
never use the front door and the mistress has an uncanny knack of
waking as soon as it is opened.
Back to the kitchen and on with scrubbing the floor, it really only
needs a wipe over and that's all it gets most of the time By now the
kettle should be hot and I normally make myself a cup of tea and eat my
breakfast. This is the best meal of the day for me as she makes me eat
all of the leftovers mixed together, out of the same bowl. I put on my
hat and coat with gloves and run down to the paper shop I really am
frightened of this errand I'm sure that the paper boys and girls know
and I don't hang about. Nobody ever says anything and I don't speak any
more than I have to. I pick a flower or piece of greenery on my way
back through the garden and get my outside clothes off and put away as
fast as I can.
All the ground floor carpets have to be brushed each day with a stiff
hand brush and dustpan and this is the hardest work of all, I always
take my apron, slip shoes and stockings off for this although I'm not
supposed to, as I don't want them to get dirty, scuffed, laddered, or
creased, so there I am sweeping carpets on my hands and knees in bra
and pants with my suspenders hanging loose. This is one job that I
always do properly as they spend a lot of time in these rooms and tend
to look for faults and I don't want any more 'discipline' or
'correction' or 'punishment' or whatever fancy title that she puts on
'pain' than is absolutely necessary.
My backside is so sore sometimes that I find pulling my knickers up
even makes me cry involuntarily. I live in dread of that cane hanging
on the back of the kitchen door, God how it hurts and she knows just
how to use it with the desired results, the threat of that yellow rod
of fire, on an already very sore bottom is enough to concentrate the
mind of anyone. Every night I have to take it together with the black
punishment book up to the drawing room. She doesn't always give it to
me though, in fact she's very fair on the whole, but if she thinks that
I've earned it she sure doesn't spare the rod and it doesn't matter who
is there either, it's down with the knickers and up with the skirts.
At first it is the humiliation of having my naked bottom on view to all
and sundry. Then being dressed in women's clothes and dominated to the
extent that a petite very feminine lady can order a grown man to do
anything that she requires and afraid, yes, afraid of her wrath. But
after a while the pain is so great that all of those feelings disappear
and I try my hardest not to cry. I never succeed though I always end
with great sobbing tears and promising that I will be a very good
maidservant in the future.
That is by no means the only punishment that my poor bottom receives
during the course of the day. Often if she finds fault with any of my
work, or if I have an 'attitude problem', that's what she calls it if I
fail or forget to show what she calls 'proper respect', she will order
me across her knees lift my skirts and take down my knickers and spank
me with her hair brush, or one of her shoes. She doesn't stop until I
am howling and whimpering uncontrollably and my bottom is bright red,
turning to purple in the middle and yellow around the edges.
I get the breakfast tray prepared, cook the food or whatever she
fancies and take it upstairs this is one of the worst times of the day
as I try to keep out of her way as much as I can it makes me nervous to
be in close proximity for such a long time especially if she is a state
of undress. Obviously I am never allowed sex with anyone let alone the
mistress but she does allow me to masturbate once a week generally on a
Sunday afternoon not always though sometimes I am just given "six of
the best" to "keep me quiet".
And so I am usually in a state of easy arousal and when the mistress is
in this state of undress it is hard for me to keep my thoughts pure and
she is not backward in punishing me for any signs of arousal. I try and
keep my thoughts on pain this helps me to keep my mind on the job.
While she eats her breakfast and reads the paper I lay out her clothes,
run the bath and make sure that everything is ready for her to come in
I even warm the toilet seat.
I return to the bedroom and turn down the bed then help her out of bed,
curtsey, fall to my knees and follow her into the bathroom on my knees
kissing her bottom through her night-dress. When we get to the toilet I
lift the night-gown out of the way and kneel down in front of her,
kissing her feet until she has finished then I very, very carefully and
gently wipe her bottom, lower her night-dress to the ground and flush
the toilet.
As she steps into the bath I curtsey again then I wash her all over,
dry her and kiss her bottom on the way back to the bedroom. I take the
towel and dress her. I have to more or less kiss her all over as I
dress her. When this is finished, if I have escaped without punishment
I feel very pleased with myself. I go downstairs and wash up the
breakfast things. Now is the time where I have to be careful as she
creeps about trying (with varying success) to catch me out.
I return to the kitchen and wash the things that have been used and
then get ready to make coffee. I have to keep an eye on the time as she
will punish me for any deviation from the set times but they are not
too bad. There is normally plenty of time if there hasn't been too much
time taken up with punishment or extras for which no more time is ever
allowed. Normally it is not too hard to keep up with her whims but if
there are any guests or family it can be impossible and she will make
no allowances or tolerate any criticism whatsoever of anyone by me.
I take in the coffee and biscuits. Then pay my respects by a neat
curtsey, at least I hope it's neat or rather I hope she thinks it's
neat or else she will award me some punishment and make me stand and
curtsey continuously while she drinks her coffee and eats her biscuits.
She nearly always puts me across her knees when there are guests, it's
so humiliating to have to bend over and have her take my knickers down
and bare my bum in front of anyone who is there. Not to mention the
pain; you wouldn't believe that such a small woman could create so much
agony simply with the palm of her hand, mind you my bottom and the top
of my thighs are always pretty sore.
Not many hours go by without a slapped leg or buttock here or there,
that's why the mornings are so important to me when they are all in
bed, I feel that this is my little bit of freedom that keeps me sane.
When she has finished breakfast, she normally goes out and I have to
carry on with the washing up. I am usually very nervous at this time as
she might come back at any time. Sometimes she is gone for an age, but
when I don't answer the front door immediately, she pushes me into the
front drawing room pulls me across her knees. Then she takes my
knickers down and spanks me until I am sobbing like a baby, especially
if she has brought anyone home with her.
I have to make the beds and sweep the carpets upstairs and when I'm in
the back-rooms or even the kitchen it's very difficult to hear the
front doorbell. When these duties have been completed the next step is
to very carefully iron the previous days washing and lay out the
clothing that is torn ready to repair later on. The ironing is left on
the table ready for inspection. When the lunch is prepared and the
table laid, if the mistress is back I serve the lunch, another bad time
any mishap or slip will be dealt with as before. I am given any
leftovers all mixed together in a plastic bowl and usually made to eat
them in front of the mistress since (she says) that I am not to be
trusted to obey her orders. I forced them down the sink once and she
caught me and my poor bottom paid dearly, she gave me a thrashing of 36
strokes of the cane. Not right away, mind you, but made me wait until
the next Sunday afternoon this was Thursday, I had no privileges for
one month but had a similar caning every week instead. It was the
waiting that was hard to take.
While she has a nap I wash up, dry and pack away the lunch things and
then I am allowed to go to the toilet, then I have to strip and shower
with cold water, dry myself. I return to my bedroom and pour cheap
scent and deodorant all over my body, after which I heavily make up my
face, finger and toe nails. I carefully put on my shoulder length wig.
When I am satisfied that I will pass muster I change into my afternoon
uniform of a black corset. I make sure that the seams of my stockings
are perfectly straight and in the centre of the back of my legs. Slip
on my brightly polished, very uncomfortable, six inch high heeled black
court shoes.
I swap the quite comfortable, warm high sided briefs for very tight
fitting, frilly, skimpy, pink see-through nylon briefs, which I have to
keep pulled tightly up into my crotch. This is extremely uncomfortable
and I must also make sure that my bottom is very clean, if she sees any
stains I know that she will double the punishment she is about to give.
She says "A maid must always be immaculately dressed at all times".
Over the top of this I wear a white multi-layered very stiff nylon net
petticoat trimmed with pink lace, which rustles every time I move and
fans out the very full dress of my uniform showing off the lacy edges
of the petticoats. The lifting action of the stiff net makes my
stocking tops and knickers visible all the while. My short, black satin
dress has a white lace collar and cuffs have to be kept perfectly clean
and pressed at all times. Finally I tie a starched white apron over my
uniform and pin a white maids cap with pink ribbons that trail behind
me to my wig.
I have half an hour to prepare myself in this way and at the end of the
time I look, smell and must act at all times like a well disciplined
(of which there is no doubt, that I am) Ladies maid. I return to the
kitchen to take up my duties of sewing and mending I have to make all
of her clothes especially her underwear, knitwear and dresses.
With all this practice my needlework is becoming much neater and also I
am getting very much quicker. After the needlework is finished, I have
to press any repaired items and anything that is unfinished. These
garments are then to be laid out and ready on the table ready for the
mistress to inspect. How I hate this, it seems to say that I cannot do
the work entrusted to me. She really lays it on thick if there is
anything wrong (creases, bad stitching or cutting) especially if there
is anyone else in residence (I have to look after the guests clothes as
well as hers and mine).
When I go upstairs to report to her, I also have to have a uniform
check. She goes over my whole body with a fine tooth comb especially if
there is anyone in the house. She measures my waist, bust and hips,
checks that my stockings have straight seams and are correctly
fastened. She makes sure that my knickers are pulled up tightly and
that the apron, cap, petticoats and dress are properly, washed, ironed
and worn in the correct way. My shoes must be polished to a high gloss,
and my wig and make-up must be perfect in every respect. When she is
satisfied with my appearance, we check through the mornings work
together.
Generally she finds fault and I say how sorry I am and how this
incompetence will not happen again and curtsey repeatedly, normally the
criticism is not too severe but if the ironing or general hygiene is
not up to standard, I can really expect a harsh beating. Sometimes
there and then and sometimes I have to wait until I normally report. I
hate that, I'd much rather get it over with but it depends on how angry
she is.
I wouldn't want anyone to think that life is all bad: I quite like it
really and although I might have a sore bottom most of the time, I'm
out of the rat race and that means a lot to me whichever way I look at
it. After the work and uniform check I have to make and serve the
afternoon tea then I bring down the dirty plates and wash them
afterwards. She always lets me finish the cake or sandwiches that are
left but I have to be careful not to make too many in the first place
or she will smell a rat and that's not good for my poor little bum!
I prepare the dinner and go up to help her to get ready for the
evening. This follows much the same pattern as the morning session and
then I return downstairs and lay the dining room table and finish
preparing the dinner. I go into the garden pick some flowers or foliage
arrange them and put them onto the table, then I change my apron. I
check my appearance in the hall mirror, sound the dinner gong and
prepare to wait on the mistress and her guests as they come down.
I generally fuss around and wait on them making sure that their glasses
are full and I must remember to keep bobbing and curtseying all the
time. When there are so many dominant women in one room, sometimes
there are up to twelve of them, it is stupid and dangerous to try
anything. I am required and I keep this up hoping against hope that
they are all satisfied [they never are or will be], until the mistress
orders coffee, which I normally serve in the other room.
I hate this time of the day, my stomach works over and over while I
prepare the coffee. Upstairs they are talking about my mistakes and
discussing the punishment details how many strokes of the cane? Who is
to administer them and in which manner. One of their favourite methods
is to order me to bend over and lower my panties and flip up my skirts
as I do so. Then the cane scorches my bottom and I have to pull up my
knickers and curtsey at the same time thanking the woman who has just
hit me for the first stroke and so on. If I make a mistake or cannot
complete this "simple task" in 30 seconds which includes presenting my
naked bottom for the next one "extras" are added.
If anyone thinks that they could take this without sobbing their heart
out they are certainly welcome to try I can assure you that it hurts
like nothing on earth. The tip of that swishy rod of fire is
excruciatingly painful as it wraps around my buttocks and tops of my
thighs leaving a red weal that turns yellow and purple at the edges.
Each of the mistresses tries to outdo the others and they all lay the
rod on as hard as they possibly can. They grunt with the extreme effort
as they do so and consequently I am soon blubbering like a child. I
never fail to be awarded some extra's for moving or screaming with the
sheer agony, or worst of all [in their eyes] for covering my bottom
with my hands, I simply cannot help myself sometimes, it hurts so much.
After this she gives me the orders for the next day including the menu
that will be required, she used to dictate them but I was too upset to
either remember them well enough or write them down and how I suffered
for it. Now she just gives them to me written on a piece of note paper,
they don't change very much she is not a particularly rich woman and we
have to manage to a specific budget not that that is part of my concern
I just do as I'm told.
A Day in the Life of a Ladies Maid - THE MISTRESSES VIEW OF THE DAY
I am awakened in the morning with a breakfast tray at exactly eight o'
clock with my little frightened slave standing over me whispering
gently. He dare not touch me. As soon as the prat sees that I am awake
he curtseys very neatly, generally, and so he should, he gets lots and
lots of practice. It is my favourite exercise for him. Sometimes for
hours on end, or I make him perform a set number of perfect curtseys,
say one or two hundred insisting he begin again each time that one does
not come up to the 'standard' that I expect, with dire punishment added
on at the end.
Although I can see he is nervous I don't care. If he makes a mistake,
anything at all, he knows that I will thrash him unmercifully,
especially first thing in the morning. This is not my [and consequently
not his] best time. He fusses around like a mother hen, fetching the
tray and pouring the coffee waiting so patiently, but I can usually see
the hem of his skirt vibrating, if he sees me looking at him he
curtseys immediately. I half expect him to wet himself, he hasn't done
yet though but I'm sure he will and when he does I'll be there to
administer the hiding of his life.
He lays out my clothes and runs a bath as I eat the breakfast and read
the paper. He helps me out of bed and then as I walk to the bathroom,
he kisses my backside with every step. He lifts my night-dress, or
takes down my pyjama trousers as I seat myself on to the toilet and
when I have finished he wipes my bottom! Can you imagine that, a grown
man dressed as a female domestic servant wipes my behind every time,
after I have been to the lavatory! Now that is luxury.
I step into the bath and he washes, dries, powders and perfumes my
entire body and how careful he is, he knows he has to be! He is nearly
always sweating with fear, but I pretend not to notice and I walk back
to my bedroom with him following behind and kissing me. I very often
kneel on my bed when I return to the room and that is the signal for
him to French kiss my behind, I know he hates it but, I love it and
that's all that matters and just to make things more amusing, (for me
that is), I have had a small piece of copper tube cut down along its
length and hinged, with a clip soldered on to lock it up. Then all I do
is force his prick into the tube fasten it with a padlock and a fine
chain passes through his legs and up over his haunches back to the
'restrainer'.
It's lovely and he has to sit down to go to the lavatory. Also there's
no ugly bulge and he can't get an erection let alone play with himself
without terrible pain and of course being near to me without having any
sexual gratification for a week or more does seem to upset him but I
simply don't care. He is here to serve me and whenever he steps out of
or even thinks about stepping out of line I am always ready to punish
him. Can you imagine a grown man dressed in frilly underwear bending
over at your command to be beaten like a schoolgirl.
Well let me tell you I certainly make him pay for his whimpish
attitudes. Once a week on Sunday afternoons I make him dress up as a
little girl; all in white; in a flouncy party dress, with a pink sash,
plenty of frilly petticoats, a pair of plain white cotton knickers,
white ankle socks and black strap-over low-heeled shoes, with pink
ribbons and a slide in his hair, he looks just the part. When he speaks
I make him lisp and without fail I send him to get 'mummy's clothes
brush, pull him over my jeans, drag his knickers down and lay into his
arse with a will.
This carries on for 15 minutes and by now he is a blubbering wreck and
I push him off and tell him to turn and bend over my other knee, if he
is reluctant I promise him a caning and another week of celibacy. He
actually races to present his sore buttocks for my further attentions.
He really is afraid of the cane and he knows that I mean what I say
because it's been proven in the past to his cost. Sometimes when I am
fed up during the week I make him dress up as a schoolgirl he really
hates it. He has to wear a charcoal grey gym-slip with a white blouse
and school tie; underneath he wears a white training bra and navy blue
knickers, white knee socks and his black strap-over shoes. I always
make him wear a wig with a pair of long plaits.
Then I set him work to do such as writing a 2000 word essay on such
topics as 'why I like wearing girls panties', 'my pleasure in service',
'why I should always be severely punished' and My Secret Crush on My
Mistress. When he has written them I always mark them and he has to
rewrite the whole essay and then read them to me and my guests followed
by a proper school caning, I use a whale bone rod, I love it. He has to
bend over and touch his toes I take his gym-slip and lift it over his
back and then I pull his pants down just below his bottom.
I flex the rod and try a few practice swings, I love to watch his nates
clench involuntary as he hears the whistle of the whalebone through the
air. Of course a dozen powerful strokes of the rod, and he always gets
a dozen, really hurts him after about four. Depending on how sore his
bottom was before I started, and he is generally crying, four more and
I can usually have him screaming, sometimes he moves and I have to
start again, he always moves during the second session and I am forced
to tie him down over the back of the chair and of course he has to be
punished further because of the trouble I have had to go to.
Although I enjoy this very much, I cannot do it too often. He just
couldn't stand it, and as it is he has to have a couple of days without
correction to his arse at all, but I can still give the backs of his
thighs a slapping, he finds that humiliating. He has to stand sideways
between my legs as I sit on an easy chair, I lift his skirt and slap
the back and side of his thigh with a hairbrush and then make him turn
around and repeat the exercise, until he is blubbering like a child.
I do that two or three times a day and soon the backs of his legs are
as sore as his bum. Not only does he have to make all his own and my
outer clothes, but he has to supply me with my lingerie which is
under strict production targets which he hardly ever meets and I also
make sure that he is well beaten when repairs are needed. I tell him
that the work must have been shoddy in the first place.
When he is dressed up as either a schoolgirl or mummies little angel I
make him carry a 'Sindy doll' (which he has to call a 'dolly' all the
while). He has to make all of her clothes as well. I make him produce
the same for 'dolly' as he makes for me, from the offcuts. He has to
wash and iron them, after which, I inspect them and if they don't meet
my, some would say somewhat over the top, quality control standards he
can expect a 'good hiding' over my knees, but as I always tell him
'if a job is worth doing then it is worth doing well' and
adding 'but, if its not done well enough beat the doer'.
The one thing I really enjoy is when he presents himself for correction
I love to wind him up by shouting and telling him off and swishing the
cane in front of him and asking him for explanations and telling him to
shut up when he tries to explain. Ten minutes of this can have him
snivelling like a frightened rabbit. When I retire at the end of the
evening I am completely contented.
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