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In a small room in a large mansion a girl waits in trepidation, her predicament witnessed only by the pictures on the walls. This is the butler’s pantry, lair of the most senior of the servant class in the employ of Blanthorpe House, an English stately home.Stretching to grasp the table’s furthest edge she nervously focuses on a black and white photograph. Its subject, wing collared, morning suited and inscrutable, is Forbes the butler, responsible for the discipline of junior members of staff. When involving such comely a figure as the one presented hardly an irksome task. High-spirited and independent of mind, this girl has been here before. Knows to lift her skirt to the small of her back, but not to lower her full-cut French knickers, a job Forbes will shortly attend to with unseemly relish.The unfortunate housemaid is to be birched on her bare bottom, here below stairs where she may protest and shout to no avail as her alabaster-white skin is turned to pink, then red, and finally blazing crimson. She’ll eat standing, and sleep face down tonight, the price to be paid for disobedience and youthful joie de vivre. And after he’s deemed her sufficiently beaten, what then? Will she be taken from behind with no choice but to lie there and think of England? It’s 1918, this has happened before and will happen again… Back in the present Jessica looks out the lofty bay window towards an Elysian expanse of carefully sculpted gardens stretching down to a languidly flowing river.”Perfect setting, glorious unspoilt Kentish countryside, a short drive from the M25; a well-preserved old house, is it economically viable, though?”The owner, Simon, answers laconically. “The gardens were dad’s passion, and why the house has remained original; he never paid it much heed. Always outside, planting some new species brought back from his botanical travels. You’ve seen the business plan Ms Granger. I only need a small grant Ankara bayan escort from the Heritage Commission to help Blanthorpe become financially self-sufficient. Given the British passion for gawping at stately homes, I’d say our chances are good.”Jessica paces the room, deep in thought. A Liberty print dress swirls around shapely legs, heels clicking on the Mendip stone floor. Simon remains slouched against the hearth, prudently silent. Jessica favours him with an ice-melting smile.”Trouble is there are so many country houses open to the public these days, and l am afraid this one isn’t well known.””On the plus side as long as it doesn’t entail actually picking up a rake the public love gardens and they’re by far Blanthorpe’s strongest point,” Simon counters.”Which is why,” says Jessica, “I’d like just one more look around the house.” Passing pieces of priceless antique furniture she inspects each room, from time to time surreptitiously perusing this handsome young man. Beneath the faded lawn-cotton shirt and battered cords Jessica discerns the outline of a body hardened by rowing and a manner characterised by the timeless charm and easy confidence that comes with a public school education. Apparently, Simon was ‘rather successful’ in the City until the unexpectedly early death of his father brought him back to the family seat to save it from death duties.”How many staff worked here in the old days?” Jessica asks. “About 20 during the halcyon Victorian period,” Simon tells her. “Even when I was young there was a cook, butler, two chambermaids – cleaners really, but mother preferred the old-fashioned title – and a gardener.””Chambermaids,” muses Jessica. “Droit de seigneur, and all that.””No doubt about it before the last war,” says Simon, “the social pecking order meant servants lived here or in nearby cottages owned by the Blanthorpe estate. They couldn’t Escort bayan Ankara refuse his lordship if they wanted to keep a roof over their head. Not my father though, he only had eyes for mother and his roses. But I’ve heard tell of senior staff happy to exploit the hierarchy””This must have been their domain, then,” Jessica observes, as they reach a room at the foot of the back stairs.”That’s right, the butler’s pantry, from where he wielded complete power.””All the other servants had to obey?” Jessica asks, entranced.”That would presumably account for this?” Heart pounding, she picks up a bundle of birch twigs from a bucket in one corner.”Well, not those precise twigs. Cut from the arboretum last week, but a pretty good update of some originals we found.” Simon pushes the door shut. “There’s something about that little artefact that fascinates you, isn’t there? I noticed as much on our earlier tour.” Jessica feels herself flush. There seems little point in denying it.”Yes,” she agrees, meeting his forthright gaze, “the power and ritual involved send a shiver down my spine.””Not something you’ve ever encountered. No personal experience?” Simon enquires delicately.”Not a birch, no,” Jessica says evasively.”But something not dissimilar?””Er, yes,” Jessica replies, pulse racing madly.”Ever thought you might like to sample the effect of its application?” Simon presses persuasively. “As an experiment?””Asking someone if they’d like to be birched seems to me, the perfect example of an oxymoron,” retorts Jessica, primly.”I’m offering you the chance to indulge a personal fantasy. No strings, no obligations.””I don’t know, it’s…” Jessica is flustered, prized professional cool deserting her. Rationally she should leave at once. But… He’s good-looking, the setting ideal, there’ll never be a better chance.”Unprofessional?” Dam, his perception is uncanny. “Consider Bayan escort Ankara the proposition overnight; you’re due to visit tomorrow with a decision on the grant. If you wish to feel the birch across that splendid bottom be here at 6 PM. Otherwise, we’ll meet in the library.” The following evening Jessica arrives at Blanthorpe five minutes early and feels strangely at home. Enters through the kitchen door and follows the familiar corridors to the butler’s pantry where she waits, nervous and agitated. Tries to imagine being a servant in this room all those years ago; A helpless young maid about to be thrashed with more vigour and enthusiasm than some minor misdemeanour merits, knowing that afterwards her tormentor will have his wicked way. Jessica discovers the birch in its customary place and examines it. Several previous beaus have indulged her submissive fantasies. None took the role-plays as seriously as Jessica and the relationships ended.”I think you’ll find it rather a superior example – extremely pliable.” Jessica turns with a start. Simon has soundlessly appeared and surprised her, as was his intention. “I see you’ve made your decision.”He takes the birch from her, swishes it through the air.”Two decisions, in fact,” Jessica replies, trying to keep proceedings on an equal footing. “Or don’t you want to know the result of the grant application?””If I knew the outcome now it might prejudice what’s to follow, and that,” he retorts reasonably, “is just as important to me.”Instinctively Jessica’s hands stroke her buttocks.”I hope you’ve come appropriately dressed?” he continues. Jessica looks down at her clothes. She’d spent ages getting ready, not consciously intending to emulate the style of a servant. Suddenly it seems so bloody obvious; her subconscious must have been working overtime. The plain white blouse and simple black skirt parody uniform attire, and like a housemaid her acquiescence is already a fait accompli.”Jessica, you will do exactly as I instruct; any disobedience will earn you additional punishment,” commands Simon. “Move to the middle of the room, back straight, hands by your sides.” Despite Jessica holding sway over his financial future, he blithely treats her like a naughty underling.
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