Taught to Serve (4 page)

The note this time read:

A COOKIE PLEASE

Sighing, Casey went to the biscuit barrel, which was an antique Fox’s tin with archaic decorations of a bygone era. Slipping her fingers inside, she found the next pair of knickers in amongst the cookies. Brushing the crumbs off, the grey pair reminded her of school knickers worn under skirts for sports lessons.

“Fuck!” she groaned. She hated them. Where he had found them was a mystery; she never bought them. At least they went over the two previous pairs relatively easily. The next note was buried amongst the cookies.

FETCH COALS

Now she knew the fire was not lit, and yet she had to fetch coal. Taking the coffee and cookie on a tray, she set off to deliver the beverage and retrieve the coal scuttle from the fireplace.

Rob did not look up when she entered the room but did express his gratitude as she lay the tray on the small table next to him. Casey desperately wanted him to notice her, to give her a small smile and to recognise the effort she was putting into his task. But he ignored her, and she despondently picked up the coal scuttle and left.

The coal shed was by the back door, and flicking on the light switch, she grimaced. Tiptoeing in her high heels, she found the shovel and began to shift a few loads of coals into the scuttle. Dust flew up, and she coughed. Where were her knickers? Turning to leave and feeling unsure what to do if she failed to find what she sought, she spied them. Hanging from the hook on the back of the door, a red over the top frilly pair, which she had worn once and regretted. Standing in the back of the house, she heaved the pair over the previous ones. They looked ridiculous puffed out by the others, and her bottom had grown in size. Now they were visible below the hem of the skirt.

She felt childish, like a baby with an enormous padded bottom, and she feared he would require her to stick a pacifier in her mouth. The brass coal scuttle was heavy, and she did not want him to see her. She hoped she could sneak back in and return it without him noticing her.

Then she remembered the note. There was none, or perhaps she had missed it. Back in the coal shed, she looked on the floor, and it was there, trampled in the dust and fragments of coal.

Blowing on the paper, she could just make out his handwriting.

BUILD A FIRE

Damn! She had to go back in there and crawl all over the fireplace.

In a huff, she picked up the scuttle and returned to the drawing room. Almost slamming the scuttle down, she kept her eyes on the fireplace and away from Rob, who remarkably had not lifted his eyes from his entrancing newspaper.

There in the fireplace on the marble hearth was a large, ugly pair of white panties. Not one of hers, she was sure of that. She also realised they were not there earlier when she had collected the scuttle, which meant he had moved and put them there while she was in the coal shed.

She did not want to put them on. They were like her granny’s knickers. High at the waist and low around the leg. They would encase all the other five pairs, and she would look ludicrous.

“Casey?” his voice warned, cajoled, and bit into her mind.

As quickly as possible, so not to dwell on the hideous undergarment, she yanked them up and set to work building up the fire.

Kneeling, she was very conscious her bottom was fully exposed to him. Behind her back she heard the sound of the newspaper being folded, then put down to one side. Finally she had his full attention—on her panty-laden bum.

What the hell
, thought Casey. He could admire it if he wanted to; she did not care. As she laid the coals in the fireplace using an ornate set of tongs, she wriggled her bottom at him. Have it, go on, she tempted. She even parted her legs, as if to lure him in, while she made a pattern of blackness with her hands.

Now the tongs trembled, and she dropped a few coals before they reached their final destination. He had moved, and she could hear him stand up and creep towards her. The thought of him getting close, even with her stupid underwear, made her nervous to the point that her heart was thumping louder than the solitary mantelpiece clock.

“You don’t have to light it,” he said softly.

“I don’t?” she repeated. “You’re not cold, sir?”

“I’m quite warm, and so are you, I think.”

Casey blushed and put the tongs down. She did not move from her knees, nor did she turn to see what he was doing. The floor made a soft creak as he crouched behind her.

“I wonder how many pairs of knickers you have managed to get wet?” he murmured. “Shall I find out for you?”

She did not answer.

“Um.” His finger touched her crotch. “This pair, I don’t think you’ve had on long enough.” They were dry and baggy about her.

Two hands reached up and carefully lowered the large bloomers over her bottom and down to her thigh to expose the red frilly knickers.

Another check with a fingertip, and she spread her legs again.

“Damp, I can feel some dampness,” commented Rob.

Casey was struggling to stay still as he manoeuvred the red frilly ones down to her bent knees. Next to descend down her thighs were the ghastly school knickers.

“Damper,” he smirked.

Then came the black lacy panties. The fabric was harsher and thicker, but still they would clearly illustrate her wetness.

“Wet, just a small patch,” he noted.

Casey arched her back as he lowered the next pair and revealed the white bikini panties. She hoped Rob would not touch her, but he did all the same, pressing a finger hard against her.

Casey gasped and pushed back.

“These are dripping.”

It took some effort to peel them away from the thong, and he let out a chortle. “My, my. They’ve practically disappeared up you. Sopping wet pink panties.”

“Sorry, sir,” she whispered.

“Did you enjoy your little knickers hunt?”

“No, yes, I mean,” rambled Casey confused. “I look silly and unattractive wearing all these stupid knickers.”

“Your stupid knickers, which you have a tendency to leave lying around, chucked here and there. I may like to see your arse, Casey, but you should tidy up after yourself.”

“I apologise,” she said firmly.

“And for the record, you do not look unattractive. Quite the contrary, you are beautifully sexy and look wonderfully ludicrous. Just how I like you.”

Casey dared to look around her shoulder and was relieved to see Rob smiling at her.

“Would you like me to spank you now?”

Casey went very coy. “Yes, please.”

Rob moved back, not to the armchair but the chaise longue, and patted his lap.

She crawled over to him, leaving behind a trail of knickers as she went. By the time she reached him, five pairs lay like a dot-to-dot line on the hearth place rug. The thong remained wedged in place.

“Take it off,” he said quietly.

She slipped the drenched thong off and over her heels and drew up her skirt. Lying carefully over his lap, she rested her head on the chaise and closed her eyes. Strange, she wondered to herself, wearing six pairs of panties was very humiliating, but being spanked hard by the man she was very much falling in love with was much easier to bear.

“Oh, and Casey, when I’ve finished turning your deliciously-fleshy buttocks crimson red, what will you be doing?”

“Tidying away my knickers, sir,” she said giggling, which was how the spanking began.

She loved to be spanked with a hand. Now and again he would caress the marks he was making, and as he brought the palm of his hand down, he talked about good habits. Then as she squirmed and he wrapped a leg over hers, he told her how sexy she looked, bent over with her silly knickers. Each smack jolted against her raised bottom, gifting her a red handprint until she had blushing hot cheeks: face and bottom.

Throughout Casey giggled and howled, while Rob did the deed with a smug, satisfied smile on his face.

Given the size of the house, the garden appeared relatively small. Casey had pointed out the discrepancy to Rob not long after she started working for him. He explained the original garden was too large for his requirements and he had sold a portion of the land off to property developers. Two houses had been built behind the tall trees and wall at the bottom of the garden.

Even with the shrinkage, the garden needed much care and attention. The flowerbeds were weeded regularly, the lawn trimmed into a carpet, and the shrubs kept at bay with clippers. The reduced garden was maintained and appreciated by Rob from his study window. Casey preferred to sit in the fresh air as much as possible, using the wooden bench underneath the trees. The birds trilled in the branches above her head, and the budding leaves were unfolding with the change of seasons.

She sat there one Saturday, a few weeks after she had left her apartment and moved in with Rob. Her clothes were now hanging in the walk-in closet, and her Mini car was parked outside on the drive day and night. In a reflective mood, Casey took the opportunity to review her situation.

When she had lived apart from Rob, she had occasionally stayed the night on an ad hoc basis. An invitation to extend the day to cater for additional lessons. No longer focusing on her role as Rob’s personal assistant, she had taken on a different mantel—his lover, a development that had transpired over a short space of time.

Those evening lessons had been centred on an entirely different sphere of activity. Stricken by her nervous temperament, Rob had gently tutored Casey. She had discovered there were many facets of erotic pleasures that had passed her by and that her previous, indifferent lovers had not explored or cared to practise. With Rob Casey had become adventurous and had tried to overcome her natural reticence. As in the daytime, there were rules to assist. She had found them humorous at first. To call one’s lover ‘sir’ she had considered a tad ridiculous until he had uttered the first ‘good girl’. Being placed in a particular role had seemed to awaken her secret desires, and she had gradually let his peculiarities sink in and become her own.

After moving in with him, she had been grateful for Rob’s efforts to make her feel welcome, though she had been surprised when he had showed her a small bedroom for her personal use.

“You don’t want me to sleep with you?” she had frowned.

Rob had reassured her the room was for her to escape to when she needed space. She had not understood why he had given her some place to hide from him until she was about him every day. Rob devoured books like a voracious lion with its slaughtered prey. Even when he had ceased working in the study, his leisure time had remained fixed around reading. The television held no appeal, nor other inactive hobbies or interests. After dinner, he had simply moved location to the sitting room and picked up a book. Realising he had no need of her company, Casey had gone up to the little upstairs room and switched on the TV she had brought from her old apartment. The solitary nature of her evening leisure time had been something of a shock.

She had been grateful for the master bedroom, where they both slept, because it contained secret delights. Items he kept sequestered away from prying eyes and brought out to be revealed to her widening eyes. She had been curious and slightly unnerved by some things and completely bowled over by others. After her moving in, ad hoc activities had become regular features of their night-time dalliances between the sheets.

Tutoring Casey had become a thrill for both of them. His bedroom techniques had been similar to his daytime style, with one important exception: he had never spanked her for failing when she had tried hard to please him. She had been anxious she would be held accountable for poor skills, but he had shaken his head and confirmed that erotic spankings were for fun and pleasure.

Always Rob had pushed her to achieve more and take herself to new heights of sexual feats, even though their early sexual adventures together had not begun auspiciously. In particular, her first attempt at providing oral gratification had been somewhat disastrous…

It was her unregulated eagerness, rather than nervous reluctance, which let her down. All decorum left her as she smothered his upright cock with her mouth. Feeling the bulbous tip push against the back of her throat, she gagged noisily and nearly retched over him.

Casey was embarrassed at her lack of ability, and Rob suggested for her second attempt that depth should not be her goal but that she should explore him with her senses. Kneeling next to the extraordinarily patient Rob, Casey slowly lowered her head, stuck out her tongue, and smelt the pleasant aroma of soap, something that reassured her. Next, she savoured his aroused tip. Smooth and coated in her saliva, it glistened in the lamp light. She curled her tongue around the slit and swirled about him. Unlike a lollipop, he was warm and salty, but it still felt like she was licking a treat. Sinking a little lower, she sucked his cock between her cheeks and held him tightly between her jaws, allowing him to fill with pulsating blood.

While her head bobbed up and down, coating him with her slaver, her hands explored him. Stretching out with one hand, she found his soft sacs and the beautifully trimmed hairs layering them. A downy covering, which was a stark contrast to the velvety bareness of his cock. She gave his balls a gentle squeeze, and he responded with a verbal exclamation. He asked her to describe her findings, and she told him they were like lovely balls of hairy marshmallows, which caused him to laugh gently.

Sharing his shower provided her with a further opportunity to adore his naked body, which glistened under the spotlights of the bathroom. With a gentle nudge, he pushed her down, and she opened her mouth to accommodate him. In her oral infancy, he allowed her the chance to lead. It was after her first successful swallowing of a mouthful of gushing white cum that he began to be instruct her in depth and pace. When she struggled, he covered her lips in bright red lipstick and told her to try again. When she finished, he noted where the marks reached and asked if she could go deeper. Casey quickly become convinced that she could. Perversely, she liked his measuring technique. Motivating her inner competitiveness, he had given her a visual red target she could attempt to surpass.