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Tales from a small town

Short stories about life in a small town. Non-fiction. Great reading.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Rebekkah's mistress

OK: Just to keep people coming back, and to prove I'm not just some stick in the mud who only writes about uber-technical [boring] things, I decided to add some erotica to my posts, simply for variety. I hope whoever reads this will enjoy it, and come back to read the political stuff, which is the "bread and butter" of this blog, and the main reason I write it.

This is my first foray into erotica, so if it sucks, please let me know; I'll stop writing it. I just want a little variety so people don't get bored with my subject matter. Here it goes.

This is a period piece, about a castle in England and the gentry who live there. The father, a duke in the royal family, runs a winery on his land and sells his wine to peasants who need a cheap buzz and a quick escape from their dull reality. After all, English wine isn't world renown.

The business makes enough to pay property taxes and keep up the appearance he's rich, even though his wealth is strictly on paper. The duke's wife died while delivering their only child, Lindsey. Lindsey is now 16. Her father is getting old and is teaching his only child the ropes of the family business.

The Duke takes it upon himself to pick one of his peasants to be his daughter's handmaiden. Lindsey will need to focus on more important things than laundry and cooking if she's to take the reigns of the castle one day. The father is particularly drawn to nice looking women and has the perfect maiden in mind to live in his castle. This lucky peasant's name is Rebekkah. She's 31 years old, single and attractive. Of course a member of the royal family could never marry a peasant, but the old man thought it probably would never hurt to have an attractive woman around the house.

Rebekkah had a hard time adjusting to royal family life. She was nervous, awkward and just a little lazy; lazy enough to get her into trouble from time to time.One night, The Duke threw a party. Rebekkah allowed one of the guests to roam a hallway in the east wing of the castle; a wing that was off-limits to the guests - and for good reason: this wing contains a room that held the wine recipe, which includes his wine-making process. The recipe is closely guarded, not because the wine is especially tasty, but because the process that makes the wine was particularly profitable. The Duke jealously guarded the secret.

The next day, The Duke was furious, but he realized he was pressed for time. He had an appointment 2 counties away, and it would take several days to get there. The party already put him a day behind schedule. He had to think of an appropriate punishment for Rebekkah, to make it clear to her, that this could never happen again. He knew he didn't have time to carry it out himself. If Lindsey were to one day run the castle, she would have to tend to matters of discipline, customary to the times she lived in. Time was of the essence. Lindsey would have to carry out the punishment.

He summoned Lindsey and Rebekkah while hopping up on his horse."Rebekkah, I noticed you allowed some guests to wander the east wing during the party last night. You know this can't be tolerated. You should have alerted me immediately, but instead, you took the easy way out and pretended to not notice." He reaches into a satchel on the saddle of his horse and hands a cane from a Tree of Heaven branch to Lindsey. "See to it she gets 3 strokes. I'll check your work upon my return. If it's not to my satisfaction, you'll both get 3 strokes. See you upon my return."

Riding off to his appointment, The Duke felt horrible about this, but knew the secret behind his winery's profitability had to be protected if he planned on handing anything down to his daughter, other than debt.

Lindsey was fully aware of how awkward this moment is. She likes Rebekkah, and Rebekkah has acted as a role model for her, doing her hair and makeup, looking after her, and now... this. Lindsey feels slightly uncomfortable with the age difference, but in a way, she's also very turned on - and confused about why.

Rebekkah was relieved. She could have easily been fired which would have forced her back into the life of farming that she knew and despised all too well. That life was hard. In the castle, she lives a lifestyle that she thought she'd never have; she lives like a queen, and she's willing to do anything to hold on to that lifestyle. Anything was better than the life of a peasant on a farm. This punishment was merciful in comparison to farm life, and it was a major relief it wasn't worse. She just wouldn’t let Lindsey know that no matter how bad the caining, it was still better than being a peasant in the village.

Watching her father riding off, Lindsey was confused. "What should we do now?" she asked Rebekkah. Lindsey really didn’t know."Well, if we're to take care of this right now, I suppose we'll have to work out the details of exactly where you plan on applying the strokes, won't we?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Lindsey is thinking that carrying out her father's wish right now would be too awkward, given she already feels awkward enough. She really doesn't know what to do. Feeling the need for a diversion and an excuse to procrastinate, she blurts out, "Why don't I show you the proper way to scrub the floor in the foyer? The way you've been doing it has been leaving streaks, and I don't like how you leave the water puddle before it dries."

Lindsey said this to see how Rebekkah would respond to her asserting authority. This would be a test for carrying out her father's wish. “If Rebekkah balks at this,” Lindsey thinks to herself, “maybe 3 strokes from my dad wouldn’t be too bad after all.”

While scrubbing, Lindsey barked out commands to see how compliant Rebekkah would be. Much to her surprise, Rebekkah responded by being cheerful and slightly reverent. "This is going to be easier that I thought" Lindsey accidentally said out loud. Rebekkah turned and smiled.

Feeling slightly guilty about the reversal of roles and how horny the possibilities are making her, Lindsey said, "Why don't we both work on this? It'll go much faster that way." Having said that, Lindsey kicked off her shoes and took off the top layer of her clothing, being careful not to get them dirty.

The work felt good and accomplishing things while doing them her way, gave Lindsey a sense of empowerment - a sense of empowerment that she knew she'd have to possess if she were to carry out her father's wish with as much dignity as the situation allowed; dignity for both of them.

After the work on the foyer floor, they continued with other endeavors, building Lindsey's sense of empowerment and control. They tended the vineyards, did some landscaping and hauled water from the well. They even fed the livestock - something that reminded Rebekkah of her former life - enough for her to realize that she should do everything - including being pleasant in this situation - to keep her position in the castle.

After a hard day's work, both women were exhausted and ready for bed. There was just one thing hanging over their heads though. This subject was unavoidable as they passed a stockade in the back yard that The Duke kept as a silent reminder for his hired help."Well, we've just got one thing to do today, don't we?" Rebekkah said, eager to get the "deed" out of the way, once and for all.

"Being cained while standing up seems so undignified – especially for a pretty woman like you,” Lindsey said while lovingly running the back of her fingers down Rebekkah’s high cheek bone, hoping to make Rebekkah feel better about the situation. “Why don’t we think of a way to do it so you’re laying down?”

"How do you suppose we do that?"

"I've been thinking about this all day. Let's replace the footboard of my bed with this section of the stockade. You could lie on your stomach on the bed; I could open the stockade at the foot of the bed, allowing you to slip your feet in there as a way to restrain your legs. This way, you won't be tempted to move around while being cained, eyes away from your mistress." It was hard to tell who was more impressed with Lindsey's newfound authority: Rebekkah or Lindsey.

Lindsey goes on: "If I'm to take this discipline thing seriously, I may as well have a system that makes both of us as comfortable with this as possible."Liking what she heard and with a wry smile Rebekkah says, "Let's get to work!" Words weren't necessary. Both felt relief that the issue of the age difference and role reversal was resolved with Lindsey's desire to make this dignified; dignified to the point that it was almost...erotic. Rebekkah could feel her nipples beginning to swell; so could Lindsey.

Both women set to work on converting the footboard of the bed into a stockade. Lindsey was the “big-picture” thinker, coming up with the plans; Rebekkah was the technical whiz turning the big picture into a reality. Rebekkah did this with zeal, never stopping to think she was working on a device that made the process of caining, just a little bit easier for her mistress.

Once the conversion was completed, Lindsey was excited. Not because this was a device for caining her help, but because she was able to use her pleasant personality in a way that allowed her to receive some help on something she never could have accomplished herself – without her dad’s interference. This was a first – a time of passage; one of many to come.

Rebekkah was excited too. This was the first time anyone ever took her suggestions and technical expertise seriously. This felt better to her than she’s felt in a long time.

Lindsey, with a look of pride on her face: “Care to test this out?” she said with a sweeping gesture of her hand, emphasizing the bed.

Rebekkah was staring at the bed with the ball of her hand on her chin, tip of her index finger touching the corner of her mouth. “How do you suppose?” she asks inquisitively, playfully.

“I’ve never done this before,” Lindsey said giggling out of embarrassment – embarrassment that she didn’t know quite how to proceed.

Rebekkah could sense that Lindsey needed a little help. She sees a dressing screen across the room with a big fluffy robe hanging over it. “Should I just slip into the robe for the time being?” Rebekkah softly asks, trying her best to give Lindsey the illusion that Lindsey is in charge of the situation.

“Yes, yes,” Lindsey says, trying to pretend this was her plan all along. “I’ll be getting ready for bed while I wait. It’s getting late.”

A few minutes later, Rebekkah steps out from the screen wearing nothing but the big fluffy robe. To her surprise, Lindsey is sitting on the bed, completely nude. Seeing Rebekkah’s surprise, Lindsey explains: “I always sleep in my birthday suit!” Lindsey’s complete ease with her own body made Rebekkah feel surprisingly comfortable about what would normally be an awkward situation. Lindsey’s nakedness was a voluntary form of humility designed as an act of camaraderie to make the situation more comfortable for both involved.

With a deep breath of resignation, Rebekkah takes one last stare of the bed, and lets the robe fall the the floor, revealing a body used to physical labor; her body is taught, and her breasts perky - nipples hard in anticipation. She lays down on her stomach, being careful to place herself so there’d be enough length in her body, for her feet to fit properly into the stockade.

Without looking at Rebekkah, Lindsey dutifully walks to the foot of the bed to raise the hinge of the stockade, allowing Rebekkah to place her feet where they belonged. Lindsey closed the hinge, locking in Rebekkah’s feet.

Rebekkah was lying on her stomach, using her elbows to prop up the upper part of her body so she could turn her head to face her mistress. Instead, she just looks straight ahead, patiently awaiting her punishment.

Lindsey walks from her room into her dad’s room, getting one of his big leather belts. She quietly walks back into her room, the only noise being the clinking of the belt buckle. Rebekkah’s heart starts racing. She talked herself into thinking that this would be an erotic moment. Instead of feeling sexy, she was a little scared. She didn’t want Lindsey to know she was scared. She turns her head to make eye contact with Lindsey, giving her a forced smile, with the hopes that Lindsey would set her fears at ease, and smile back.

Lindsey gives Rebekkah a scare. She gives Rebekkah a sad look, almost as she’s pre-apologizing for what she’s about to do. This was out of character from her “innocent, little-girl-coming-of-age” persona that she’s carried on up until now. She used the sad, apologetic look to assert her authority, which she was always self-conscious about lacking. Then, a warm smile broke out over her face. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m going to take some gentle practice swings with this belt to get the feel of how this should go. Relax.”

Rebekkah smiled – for real. She was worried that Lindsey’s inexperience would result in getting welts on the small of her back, or on the back of her legs. The buttocks were bad enough, but she knew from experience, anywhere but the buttocks was a lot worse. Lindsey put the belt down.

Lindsey gets on the bed, standing on her knees. Walking on her knees closer to the head of the bed, she sits down on Rebekkah. The small of Rebekkah’s back fits Lindsey’s naked butt like a saddle. She starts to give Rebekkah a neck and should massage. Rebekkah groans with pleasure, as she lowers her upper body down on the bed, her face resting on the pillow, completely relaxed.

After a while, Rebekkah’s afraid she’ll get too comfortable and fall asleep. She doesn’t want to fall asleep until the caining is done. She uses her elbows to prop up her upper body again.

Lindsey whispers in her ear: “Ready for your spanking?” Rebekkah’s face breaks out into a smile, nodding her head up in down in agreement.

Lindsey picks up the belt from the dresser. She stands on the bed, on her knees, behind Rebekkah. With the belt doubled over in her right hand, Lindsey uses a quick flick of her wrist to swing the belt, without moving her arm. It makes a small slapping sound on the flesh of Rebekkah’s ass. Rebekkah gives off a playful, high-pitched moan, mocking pain. Without moving her hand, Lindsey bends her wrist the exact opposite way, making the belt slap across Rebekkah’s other butt cheek, with a back-hand motion. Again, Rebekkah gives off a mock, high-pitched groan.

This goes on and on. Lindsey takes plenty of time between strokes to allow Rebekkah to soak it all in. Lindsey’s soaking it all in too. Although Rebekkah’s moans were supposed to mock pain, they sounded more sexual. This turns Lindsey on like crazy.

The strokes with the belt stop. Rebekkah feels the bed start to move up and down slightly, and she hears strange sounds. She didn’t want to sound bossy, given she was in no position to, keeping her gaze straight ahead, she asks Lindsey: “What are you doing?”

Lindsey doesn’t respond, but the noise and the motion remain. Rebekkah turns around to look. They make direct eye contact. “I’m taking care of myselt,” Lindsey says, almost defiantly. Rebekkah gets a big smile on her face, turning her face back to the forward-looking position, giving Lindsey some privacy. Looking down on Rebekkah, Lindsey could see a wet spot begin to develop on the sheet between Rebekkah’s legs.

“I’ll give you some of this, but only if you’re a good girl,” Lindsey says, almost in a bratty tone.

Lindsey steps off the bed and walked toward her dresser. She puts down the belt and picks up the cain. With cain in hand, she gives it a quick flick of the wrist, making a buzzing noise with the air, reveling in her new-found authority.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Lindsey gently touches the bottom of Rebekkah’s bare foot which was hanging over the edge, in the stockade. Lindsey gets on the bed, standing on her knees, behind Rebekkah.

Rebekkah has rehearsed this moment in her head a thousand times since hearing of her fate. She was to "cry pretty," looking demure and lovely. That’s the way she rehearsed it.

Lindsey gently rubs the cain across Rebekkah’s bare skin, across both cheeks. She playfully moves the cane back and forth.

“Ready?”

Rebekkah nods her head up and down, this time more seriously.