Hi All. How are you doing? Missed you bitches and bastards, for a while. This time I’m back with a new story which will make the submissive girl kneel to me. I bet you’ll start fingering before the story ends.
This story is written from the perspective of a girl. It is based on real events with slight changes in place and names. I’m the guy.
The key difference between S&M and Abuse is ‘consent.’
* Consent = An agreed approval of what is done and/or proposed by another.
* Abuse = to use to injure or damage: Maltreat.
Sex is the most pleasurable thing. It can be a nightmare or cherishable memory, be careful to whom you surrender.
This story about me is a little lengthy, so I tried to write it in a few parts. I haven’t hurried to close the story by saying, “He fucked me in my ass. I had a great time in bed.” I’m sure you’ll see the story as I see it. You will love this epic BDSM journey.
I’m an Indian Delhi girl. I do very well in my business and have more money than I need. I should thank my parents for giving me a good foundation. So I decided it was about time to spoil myself. I have a lot of boyfriends, but I’m still unmarried and need a man around the house.
Recently, I inquired about getting a Man Friday or English Butler. One who could do the heavy work of carrying my fashion designs and booklets to the office. One who could be in the house and do things when I asked. A butler seemed to be the kind of person I would need.
So after inquiring by phone, I went to the agency and was introduced to several English butlers. One fellow interested me. He was very courteous. I was told, with a glint, that he was very experienced. I hired him on the spot.
His name is Shiv. He did his hotel management at the University of West London. He is of medium height, fair, and very proper. I have been taking him wherever I go since I’m a girl on the go. He is prompt. He remembers whatever I may forget.
I’ve even felt comfortable prancing around my apartment half-naked. He helps me pick out day or evening clothing to wear. That he happens to catch a glimpse of me in my pants and bra is almost beside the point. He never glares or shows the slightest interest in serving me.
He is always at my service and is constantly picking up after me. When I undress, I leave a trail behind me. But with Shiv around, nothing ever seems to hit the floor!
One day, Shiv, to my great surprise, showed up late. His eyes were puffy. There was an odd smell about him. He walked with an uncharacteristic tilt. I was positive he was drunk. He had on the same suit as the day before. I demand that anyone who works for me comes dressed in clean attire daily.
I scolded Shiv. I dished out a fair amount of abuse. He embarrassed me by entering my Baker street apartment building like a drunken slob. I then slapped him across the face in anger. “This should teach you a lesson,” I said.
Shiv, as usual, kept his composure, resisting any rebukes of his own. But there was a curious steely look that he gave me. One that I felt entirely comfortable with. When I was done, I was surprised at the silence that greeted me. I finally demanded, “What do you have to say for yourself!”
Shiv, in his mild manner, merely said, “Madam, I wouldn’t have had to walk home if you paid me on time. It’s discourteous for a person in my position to ask my employer for his check. So thinking that there might be some financial problems of your own, I decided to wait. Well, it seems last night, on my way home, I got roughed up, to say the least. I spent the night, penniless, sleeping on the street. But I ask no sympathy, Madam. Just give me my check. I quit.”
Well, I was shocked; I didn’t know butlers quit. I just thought they kept going and going. I said to Shiv, “You can’t.” I thought he might laugh as he approached me, but the laugh was a disguise for the anger I had never seen in him.
Then it was Shiv’s turn to tell me off: “Madam, you think you’re a duchess, even a princess. “But you’re not. I’ve worked for many years. You certainly have a lot to say for yourself. You’re young and pretty and wear the finest clothing and undergarments.”
“You have the makings of a princess, but there is a lot you will have to learn, and only a butler can teach the secrets of royalty. You cannot buy it. What a good butler. Maybe it is a shortcut to your refinement as a person. You were not born into the manor, Madam. But to the manor come many to stay.”
“I cannot tell you how humiliated I was made to feel. Something strange—something I couldn’t yet put my finger on—would happen.”
I asked Shiv, “Well, why didn’t you say so at first that you hadn’t been paid?”
“Because, Madam, had you been of proper upbringing, you would have inquired first with compassion and then with rebuke, if necessary. You did quite the opposite. Therefore, I plan to leave and find a lady with more breeding and knowledge unless you can prove that you’re worth my staying.”
I immediately apologized and ran to get my chequebook. But I felt a hand strongly touch my shoulder. It was Shiv. He said, “No, no, no, young lady.” It’s not that easy. What you need is something that you’ll remember. What you need, Miss Anisha….”
Then he paused as he took the chequebook from my hand and asked, “Were you ever spanked as a child?” Spanked? Did he say, “Spanked?” But the question that was put to me in that subtle way was, “Do I want Shiv to go?” No. I liked him. He knew how to serve me.
But my heart raced when he mentioned the word spanking. Did he mean to give me a spanking? I wasn’t sure. I thought he was just politely inquiring about my past behaviour. So I told him, “Well, yes, of course, I was, but so what? That was many years ago since I had my last spanking. But what of it?”
“Were you a girl who got her spankings regularly?” he asked. I answered him, “Well, yes, if you have to know, I was spanked regularly.” I could have said no. But I’m a lousy liar. And I think he would have respected me less, and I was losing respect fast. I was also determined to get it back.
“And how were you spanked?”
I answered, “Look, Shiv, I don’t know where this is all leading to. But will you reconsider?”
Shiv said, “I am reconsidering, Madam, or I would have been out the door. When was your last spanking, Anisha?” I refused to tell him. I believed I had told him enough. The nerve!
Then he told me to come to him by my bed! I wasn’t sure why. I mean, I couldn’t believe that. Yet, I approached him. I didn’t want him to leave. Shiv then said to me, “You haven’t answered me.”
I kept looking at my watch. I would be late to work if this went on. I looked into the mirror to check myself over. I was wearing a sleeveless black dress and two-inch pumps. My black lace skimpy pants felt warm. I wanted to remove my garters and change them. I felt so uncomfortable.
My hair, long and jet black, flowed over my milky white shoulders. I said, “I am beautiful, I am sexy, I am smart. Yet here I was, shivering with fear as Shiv took that familiar position on the bed.”
“I think it is time, Anisha.” I felt my heart jump. I knew. Oh, Jesus, I knew! He was waiting for me! But I couldn’t. I couldn’t go to the butler and have my spankings! So I stood there while he said, “Lift your dress.” I just couldn’t. I felt so humiliated being told what to do!
Of course, he had often seen me dressing and undressing, but this was different. But as I thought this over, I noticed him unbuckling his belt. My heart raced. I was shivering. Once more, he told me to lift my dress as he held off on removing his belt. I lifted my dress and let him see me in my pants and garter.
“Now remove your dress.” I slowly and carefully approached him, knowing that I would be spanked. Knowing that if I were good, he might make it a quick affair and praying that I could get out of this humiliating position.
I said, “How dare you try to spank me?” But my threat wasn’t strong enough. I felt my words crumbling at my feet. Shiv did dare me! So what would I do? I decided to be brave. To be smart and to challenge him with my body. Maybe that would scare him off.
So I fluffed my long, flowing hair back and undid the zipper to my dress, letting it drop to the floor. I stepped out of my pumps onto the cold parquet wood, shivering in my skimpy fancy bra and lacy panties. Waiting for the next look that might put me over his knees.
I could feel my breasts bulging from my racing heart. He then ordered me, “Over my knee, Ani. Right this very moment!” I waited no longer. I pinched up my lower lip to show him that I was a brave girl and could take anything he could dish out. I submitted to his commands.
I even raised my bottom as a show of pride when I mounted his knees. “Do what you want with me!” was my attitude. I soon felt his fingers bunch my small, soft, lacey pants down to my thigh. He expertly groped my bottom, feeling my soft spots. Then suddenly, he delivered the first whack upon my skin. It stung. But that was nothing.
He began to slap his hand harder until each stroke caused my buttocks to squeeze together. I then put my hand in his way. He responded by whacking my hands. Then I heard the metal of his belt buckle as I tried to insert my other hand. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to interfere with my spanking.
I knew he wouldn’t take kindly to it. He would let me know who was in charge of my spankings. He folded the belt and then slapped it hard on my bottom. Slapping it harder over and over until I cried and screamed. Kicking my legs, which were caught tight with my pants twisted around my ankles.
I was begging, pleading with him to stop. But Shiv spanked me even harder as I tried to fend his hand off with mine. I screamed, “NO, OH PLEASE STOP, PLEASE STOP SPANKING ME!” I wrestled, I fought, I kicked. I moaned louder than a siren.
Shiv was giving my bottom terrific hits with his belt, making me squirm so that he threatened to tie my hands. He unbuckled my brassiere, slipped it off, and tied my wrists. He continued to spank me, but I wouldn’t stop screaming. He warned me to shut up.
But I was so loud—I am always so. So he took off my lacy black pants and stuffed them in my mouth. I thought Shiv was finished with me as he left me on my bed to cry alone. But no, he delivered a few more good stings on my bottom. He then removed my pants from my mouth.
He knew I was done for—exhausted, finished, spanked so hard. I felt the greatest joy surge within me of relief. He lifted me off the bed and helped me dress. Pulling up my pants for me, snapping my garter, and getting my snug bra around my breasts.
He helped me into my dress. Then I sat down as he slipped on my pumps. Shiv had even rubbed some salve on my bottom. I was all dressed and ready to leave the house. Shiv asked me when I was expected to be home. Alas, Shiv had decided not to quit.
I stood by the door and said to Shiv, “Thank you for the spanking. I’ve had worse, though. But, still, I think it may have done some good.”
I slipped out the door and wondered when he might punish me again. What did he have in store for me? Could I stay on good behaviour? I soon found out that I was a girl who needed a strict regimen of spankings.
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I’m a guy from Bangalore. If this story made you wet, email me, and we shall discuss it further. I tried to write these real events with a small touch of fiction from a girl’s perspective.