"Please put the key away where you found it Iveta, and then go into my office."
"I'm sorry, Sir, I know I shouldn't have..."
"Save your apologies or excuses till later, Miss Vanags, we'll go through them when my wife is up."
I put the key back in its box, returned it to the bureau in the lounge and with much trepidation, followed him into his office. "Stand in that corner with your nose close to the wall and your hands on your head. Stay there until I come back with Elise," he ordered.
I turned in surprise at the instruction and started to speak but he repeated the order and I deemed it wise to obey. "Why did I let my curiosity about what lay behind the big oak door in the cellar?" I asked myself as I stood facing the wall and shaking with fear at the thought of what he might do to me. Certainly I couldn't deny I had been in there because he'd caught me red-handed carrying the huge, church door type key when I returned to the kitchen. "Why did he return this morning when normally he plays golf on a Sunday? I saw him leave and didn't hear the car return. I had my suspicions they used the room for sex parties on some Friday nights as they made me stay in the upper rooms, but I never suspected they were into whips and things." I trembled further when I wondered if the master, Peter Graves, would take me down then and tie me to the cross or put me over the whipping bench and use some of the whips, straps and canes on me. "Perhaps I deserve that but it has been many years since I felt father's belt on my bare bottom. What happens at those parties? Do they have sex slaves they flog and fuck? The probably don't do it all that hard otherwise there would be complaints and I've never heard anything when I've been above them in the kitchen. I rarely see them either because they use the side entrance, but they arrive in expensive looking cars. Perhaps he'll just want to fuck me; well I suppose I wouldn't mind that. He's pretty distinguished looking for a fifty year old man and Elise is still a beautiful woman. How much longer have I to stand here waiting like a naughty schoolgirl for him to come? A twenty-three years old schoolgirl, well I do go to university. Will he throw me out and force me to return home in disgrace? Maybe I should just leave before he harms me? But where would I go? I've not saved much money from my work here yet. Ah, I think they are coming."
"Kneel on the floor in front of my desk, Miss Vanags." Another order I felt compelled to obey despite the humiliation of doing it in front of his wife. Colonel Peter Graves stood rigidly behind his desk and his wife, wearing only a dressing gown, sat in his leather chair. "Iveta, I am saddened that you betrayed the trust I placed in you, which is a great shame because in the month you have been here, your work and attitude have been exceptional and you have an excellent command of our language. Had that not been the case, we would have dismissed you immediately. The fact that you went into the cellar and snooped around..."
"I only peeped in, Sir," I lied.
"BAMM!" his fist hit the desktop, "Don't make it worse by lying girl, I'd been in the kitchen three-quarters of an hour when you came up. You must have been there much longer and had time to play with the things we keep for our parties. Did you play with them Iveta? The truth girl."
"Yes, Sir," I nodded and tears began it trickle down my cheeks.
"Does your knowledge of English extend to knowing what BDSM means?"
"Good, then you'll know the sort of parties we have down there. How did you feel when you handled the whips and cuffs? Did they arouse you sexually? Is that why you stayed for so long? What were you thinking about when you lay on the whipping bench, as I'm sure you did? The truth again girl."
Should I admit that I became very wet and had played with myself? Should I admit I wondered how it would feel to be naked and whipped in front of others? And I had laid on the whipping bench and spread my legs and imagined others were looking at my arse being reddened and my cunt moving as I squirmed under the cane. Little by little he eased my thoughts from me and I admitted my arousal. "But Sir, I am intelligent enough to know that fantasy and reality are not the same thing. Imagining the sting of the whip is not the same as feeling the pain for long afterwards and I'm not sure that I'd find myself aroused by the suffering," I added.
"There is only one way to find out, Iveta. In view of your behaviour, I'll give you two choices. One, to pack your things and leave, or two, subject yourself to a full body whipping and allow me to fuck you afterwards. The whipping will hurt for a few days but will not scar you."
"What is a full body whipping, Sir. If it is what I think it is, I don't think I could take it."
"Show her Elise."
Elise hadn't spoken the whole time and I knew she rarely said very much when in his presence but spoke freely when we were alone. Abruptly she stood, shed her gown and pirouetted slowly twice to show me the red stripes that covered her back, arse, thighs, belly and tits. They'd had time to fade since Friday but allowing for that, they didn't look awfully raw and certainly there were no deep marks or places when the skin had been broken. If she could take it, then so could I. "He's good with the flat whip. You'll hurt and scream especially when the lash hits your nipples but the worst of the pain fades fairly quickly and then there's a soreness and warmth that makes you horny, or it does me."
"Will you be there, Ma'am?"
"Won't it upset you to see your husband fuck me afterwards?"
"No, I've seen him fuck many women and he's seen men, and women too, fuck me. Once it is all over I'll do what I can to ease your pain. I guess the whipping is your chosen option?"
"There wasn't a real choice. I'd have difficulty in finding another place where I can work and study at the same time and I dare not go home in disgrace. Do you wish to do it now, Sir?"
"Yes, Iveta, then I can go out for a round of golf afterward although my game might suffer." The master retrieved the key and led the way to the cellar. Elise put her arm around my shoulders to steady my shaking and whispered words of comfort.
"Undress Iveta, you can put your clothes on the whipping bench, we won't be using that today," Sir said quietly as he started to undress too.
Now the time had come, I felt like running but knew I couldn't and with Elise helping to undo my buttons it only took moments before I stood naked in front of them. Peter's stout prick stood out proudly and I wished he'd fuck me and forget about the whipping. No such luck. Almost before I realised it, cuffs were on my wrists and my arms were being pulled towards the ceiling. Peter fastened my ankles to spread my legs and when they were held, Elise pulled my arms to their highest. "Cry out and scream but don't abuse him otherwise he'll hit harder," she whispered in my ear.
Peter took his time admiring me and commented, "I wondered what you looked like under those bulky clothes and now I find out you've been hiding a rather nice body, slim and shapely, blonde bush to match your hair, and full firm tits. Been a little while since I've had a girl as young as you. Lovely arse. You had a prick up it?"
"No!" I shook my head vigorously but he grinned and said, "Not today." His picking up a whip didn't allow me time to ponder on his answer. I'd picked the same whip up earlier and swished it around and thought it a fearsome weapon but hadn't envisaged it being used on me for real. I guessed the working part to be at least a metre long and three centimetres wide at the handle end, half that at the tip, and made of a soft leather. Swung with any force, it would hurt and hurt badly even if it didn't break the skin.
"It's the same one as I used on Elise," he informed me but I didn't find much comfort in that.
"Swish, SNAP!" "Aaaahh!" Peter had walked behind me and swung the whip across my shoulders without any warning. I felt the burning pain but thought I could stand it and indeed I did but I couldn't help crying out as he worked the strokes down my back. Although I couldn't see, I knew he varied the intensity of each one until he reached my arse and then, he hit hard, six times in a row. I yelled and screamed and wriggled as much as my bonds allowed but I couldn't escape and I knew he wouldn't grant me any reprieve. He hadn't done that to Elise. She stood in front of me, smiling in the knowledge that she'd already had her session and now I was being made to suffer.
Peter's prick stood proud and hard when he walked around and prepared to lash my front. Being able to see the whip heading its painful way to my body was, in many ways, much worse; I could anticipate its arrival and not be able to get out of the way or prevent the pain. "No, please, you've hurt me enough," I pleaded but he smiled and lifted the whip. Once more he varied the intensity of the strokes until he reached my tits and the three strokes across them were probably the most painful of them all, or were until he lashed one upwards between my spread legs to "warm my cunt in readiness," as he put it.
.... There is more of this story ...