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Instilling Obedience & Maid to Serve are two Ray Gordon BDSM stories now brought together in one fantastic eBook volume!
Left home alone while her parents enjoy a holiday in Spain, Emily looks forward to at last snatching a little fun and freedom for herself. But her strict father...
Instilling Obedience & Maid to Serve are two Ray Gordon BDSM stories now brought together in one fantastic eBook volume!
Left home alone while her parents enjoy a holiday in Spain, Emily looks forward to at last snatching a little fun and freedom for herself. But her strict father has asked their next-door neighbour, Arthur, to keep an eye on her while they're away.
To Emily, Arthur has always been more of an uncle than a neighbour, and she is utterly shocked when he lays stringent codes of behaviour for her to conform to, and even grounds her for being out after the unreasonable evening curfew he sets for her!
Performing his duty with overzealous diligence, he informs bewildered Emily that poor behaviour will jeopardise her own forthcoming holiday, he threatens to tell her father about any misdemeanours - fabricated or otherwise, and he keeps a report book in which he compiles evidence against her. Seeing Emily as unruly and wicked, he sets out to instil obedience with stringent discipline and his leather belt.
Arthur not only has Emily in the palm of his hand, but the key to her holiday, too.
Maid to Serve
When shy Hayley lands herself the job of housemaid at Hadleigh Manor, she is over the moon. Her employer, Michael Phillips, a successful music producer, warms to her immediately, although his interest in her doesn't go unnoticed by his wife, Belinda.
Hayley's ambition is to eventually gain a position with a famous celebrity, and Michael has contacts. But his cold wife has other plans for Hayley, and she has to endure painful and humiliating ordeals and spankings if she's to obtain a good reference.
Time passes and promises of a position with a celebrity friend seem empty, so Hayley decides to give up her job and leave. But then she is stunned to discover the shocking truth about her employers... in the foreboding basement of the manor house.
Relaxing as she finished her second glass of wine, Emily allowed him to take it from her again, her thighs falling fractionally apart. Arthur poured a third glass and passed it to her as she slumped back a little on the sofa, a rosy hue prettily colouring her cheeks.
'For example, did you know I could see your panties this afternoon, when we were sitting together on your sofa?' Arthur asked.
Emily nodded. 'Yes, I did,' she admitted, 'but that's different.' She giggled, putting her free hand over her mouth. 'I mean, you're Arthur.'
'And that's my point,' he said. 'What if I wasn't good old Arthur? What if I was some lad with his hormones all over the place? What might have happened then, hm?'
Emily frowned, trying to fathom out his point.
'And do you know I can see your panties again now, Emily?' he said, and watched the girl as she took a tiny sip of wine and then nodded again. 'And you don't mind that?'
Emily thought for a few seconds. 'I don't know, really,' she said. 'I suppose you shouldn't be looking.'
'But you shouldn't be flaunting them at me, now should you?'
'No,' Emily acknowledged contritely, but a definite pressure from his hand indicated that she wasn't to move into a more modest position.
'No, you shouldn't,' he concurred. 'And shall I show you what might happen if you were to tease - intentionally or unintentionally - some randy youth who couldn't control his urges?'
Emily did not move or say anything. She just watched the man closely.
'Well, shall I?' he pressed.
'What are you going to do?'
'I want you to look upon this as education, Emily,' he told her. 'This is to help you, nothing more. Do you understand me? It's nothing more than that. At my age I get nothing from it. I'm simply doing this to help you. Okay?'
She said nothing, her uncertain silence the response he needed, so he slipped down from the sofa and knelt before her and placed his hands on her knees.
He was genuinely trying to help her, she was sure, as with his steady stare he silenced any uncertainties she may have voiced, then when happy she was going to remain silent, parted her thighs and gazed between them, directly at the triangular gusset of her white panties.
As she looked down at what he was looking at, she told herself that things were going to change for the better now that she and Arthur understood each other. With the benefit of his experience she'd be more worldly-wise and therefore more confident, and as he slowly pushed her thighs even further apart she knew she had him to thank for that.
He looked deep into her eyes, his fingers squeezing the smooth flesh of her parted thighs. She was totally open to him. She sat quietly and meekly, waiting to see what he did next, not knowing how best to react.
His eyes lowered, following the slim line of her throat, down to her cleavage, it's shadowy depths made visible by the open neck of her blouse.
'You have lovely breasts, Emily,' he suddenly said, shocking her with his frankness.
'Arthur, you shouldn't—'
'Any red-blooded youth will be drooling to get his hands on them,' he went on. 'I'm only warning you; with such loveliness you need to be careful.'
Watching, spellbound as Arthur pressed his fingers into the naked flesh of her inner thighs and then inched them nearer her crotch, Emily was sure she was safe with him. He genuinely seemed to be helping her. And with him on her side, her ally, she'd have no trouble getting out at night and enjoying her life for a change.
'W-what are you doing?' she asked, as Arthur's fingers finally reached the triangle of white cotton and rested against it.
'It's all right,' he crooned. 'Now just move your bottom forward a little, and I'll show you what I'm doing.'
'Are you sure...?' she whispered. 'Okay...' and she wriggled a little, sliding to the front edge of the sofa until he knelt between her knees, 'if you're sure...'
'You see here?' he breathed, pushing his hands up to her flat stomach and folding her skirt around her hips.
'No, what?' she whispered, watching his every move with endearing intensity.
'Here...' he said, and moved his hands back down between her thighs until his thumbs pressed and stroked her cotton-covered sex lips.
'Ooh,' she gasped, tensing slightly. 'Arthur, I don't think—'
'You see, they're damp, just here...' A finger centred and pressed a little more between her hidden sex lips, making her gasp again and her cheeks blush even more. She inhaled sharply and arched her back a little, just her shoulders supporting her against the back of the sofa, and he devoured the vision of her breasts pressing forward against her blouse, the outline of her awakening nipples clearly visible.
'Can you feel that, my dear?' he asked, and watched Emily nod, her eyes closing, her succulent lips parting; gorgeous, pouting lips just made for...
'How does it feel...?'
'I-I'm not sure,' she whispered. 'Nice, I think. But you shouldn't be—'
'I'm just demonstrating what trouble you could get into. How do you think a lad would react if he knew you were turned on and wetting your knickers like this?'
'I - I suppose he might try to fuck me,' she said, the frankness of the words sounding incredibly sexy coming from such innocent lips.
'He might,' he agreed. 'Or for starters he might do this...' and pausing a moment to make sure she was still under his spell, and the wine's spell, Arthur leaned closer, lower, pressed his face between her parted thighs and touched a light kiss to her panties, inhaling her sweet fragrance through flared nostrils.
'Oh Arthur...' she sighed, 'you should stop now. This isn't right...'
Arthur pulled back a little and watched the beautiful girl. Her eyes were still closed and she was mumbling soft words, her head resting back on the sofa. The wine glass was sloping precariously to one side in the loose grip of her delicate fingers, threatening to spill the last of its contents onto his sofa. He carefully prised it from her, not wanting to break the spell, and stood it quietly on the carpet.
'How did that feel, Emily?' he whispered, and there was a long silence while she tried to decipher how it felt.
'Naughty... it felt naughty,' she eventually whispered back. 'I think I should go home now and wait there...'
'But I've not finished the first part of your education yet,' he said. 'You do still want me to help you, don't you?'
Emily's little tongue appeared and licked her lower lip, and then she nodded.
'Good girl,' he drawled.
'But I'm confused,' she confessed in hushed tones, her eyes still closed, her head still resting back. 'I know I'm naïve, but this can't be right. We shouldn't be doing this.'
'Nonsense, my dear,' Arthur coaxed. 'Just trust me. I'm doing all this for you. You'll thank me, I promise you will.'
In Emily's drifting thoughts Arthur's voice sounded distant. She could feel his fingers and thumbs stroking her thighs and touching her sex lips through her panties, and it did feel nice. The idea was to keep him on her side, not to upset him by being silly. Wishing her father would hurry up and phone so she could have her chat with him and then go home, she couldn't help moving her hips a little closer to the edge of the sofa so those fingers could touch her a little more easily. She should go home, but she felt nice and relaxed. If only her father would hurry up and phone...
Arthur lowered his head and kissed the front of her panties again. It was the end of the day and his stubble rasped lightly against the pure softness of her thighs, which instinctively squeezed against his face on both sides. Emily moaned, breathing deeply, and moved her hands to his head, her fingers entwining in his greying hair.
He moved his hands and squeezed them beneath her thighs, cupping them and pulling her closer. He inched his hands higher, until they were sandwiched between his sofa and her exquisite buttocks. Emily's breathing quickened and she lifted her head from the back of the sofa, watching with misty eyes the man squatting between her parted thighs, his head moving as he kissed and suckled the front of her panties. It was all so surreal. She'd known this man for years. He was their next-door neighbour, a good friend of the family, and here he was massaging her bottom and pulling her crotch tight against his face, nuzzling against her intimacies like a hungry animal. The shame was terrible... the excitement wonderful. She knew it was hopelessly, horribly wrong, but she also knew her hands were urging his head tighter between her thighs, knew her hips were urging her sex against his lips and nose.
A delicious sensation grew in her stomach and her head lolled back again, her eyes closing once more. It was building, threatening to overwhelm her. This could not happen. This must not happen. Arthur was carrying her towards a climax with his mouth. She gasped and stiffened, feeling his tongue press against her panties, taking the soaking material a little way between her sex lips. This was shameful, and just as her orgasm was about to burst forth Emily pressed against his head. 'No,' she pleaded, 'you can't, please, stop now, this is wrong...'
'Emily, which way do you want it?' Arthur asked, panting a little, sitting back on his ankles.
Emily opened her eyes and looked quizzically at the man kneeling between her parted thighs. 'What do you mean?' she asked him, all too aware of the tight material of her panties so exposed and vulnerable before him. 'Which way do I want what?'
'I'm trying to help you, but I'm not sure you're accepting my help.'
'You're resisting me, Emily.
'No, I'm not.
'I'm prepared to go as far as covering up for you where your parents are concerned. They've been my good friends for many years now, but still I've agreed to cover for you. But it seems that whatever I try to do you resist me. It's got to be give and take, young lady. This isn't a one-way street, you know.'
'I do know that,' she whispered urgently. 'I'm not resisting you, honestly I'm not. It's just that I don't want you to... I've never... I'm embarrassed, Arthur, don't you understand that?'
'And I'm at a loss as to what more I can do to help you,' he countered. 'Don't you understand that?'
'The choice is yours, Emily. Which way do you want it? Either you want my help or you don't. It makes no odds to me. You either stay in all the time, as your father instructed, or you go out at night and have some fun. I either cover for you or I don't. You think about it and decide while I refill your glass.'
He stood and picked up their two glasses, then went back out to the kitchen to open another bottle.
Arthur had been a good friend over the years, but what, Emily wondered, was he thinking? What did he want, exactly? He was thinking something, planning something, but what was it? What thoughts lurked in his male mind? Was he sulking? Was he disappointed in her? He wanted to continue being her friend, that's all. As he said, he wanted to help her. Was it as simple as that? Would it be best to stop being childish and let him give her the benefit of his experience?
He returned, looking stern, and gave her a fresh glass of wine. He then sat in his armchair and stared at her as she sipped it, eyeing her shapely calves, her thighs - significantly together again - her trim waist, her breasts, her inviting cleavage. Remaining silent as he scrutinised her, he sipped his fresh glass of wine too.
'I wonder when my father will phone,' Emily said, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence enshrouding the room.
'I don't know,' he murmured dismissively. 'You might as well go home and wait there. There's no point in sitting here all evening. I'll come and get you when he does.'
'Oh, all right,' she said, finishing her drink and standing up, swaying a little from the alcohol, feeling bad, like she'd let Arthur down. 'I might see you later, then?'
'I'll come and get you when he phones,' he said bluntly.
Returning to her house on decidedly shaky legs, Emily sat on the sofa and shook her befuddled head. Once again she was totally confused. She wanted to get on with Arthur, wanted to accept his help, but he was making it impossible. No, she was making it impossible. He was right; whatever he'd tried to do to help her, she'd resisted him. She was behaving like a spoilt brat. He was only trying to help, she reflected, reclining on the sofa, her head spinning when she closed her eyes. He was only trying to help...
Maid to Serve
'Hayley,' Belinda said, making her jump, 'I need your help. Come with me.'
'Where to?' she asked shakily, wondering where the woman had appeared from, her spirits plummeting as she realised her attempt to get away was looking like being thwarted.
'Where's Amy?' Belinda asked.
'I, um, I don't know,' Hayley said, somewhat unconvincingly. 'I haven't seen her for a while.'
'No?' Belinda sneered. 'Well my beloved husband has. He's seen plenty of her.'
Following her mistress into the hall, Hayley watched her open the basement door. Something bad was going on, she sensed as Belinda ushered her through the door and down the stone steps. Should she refuse to go down to the basement? Should she simply tell Belinda that she was resigning and leaving while she had the chance? What was holding her back?
Hesitating indecisively she descended the steps to the basement and looked about her. What help did Belinda need down here? She must have discovered her husband's infidelity, Hayley was sure as the woman closed the door, but what did that have to do with her? Eyeing the steel rings set in the four corners of the table, and the lengths of rope dangling from them, she knew this was getting distinctly ominous.
'Lie on the table,' Belinda ordered her.
'What?' Hayley gasped. 'Why would you want me to do that?'
'Lie on the table, young lady,' the woman repeated menacingly.
'No, I won't,' Hayley insisted.
'You stole some money from me, didn't you?' the woman accused her.
'I did what?' Hayley said incredulously, utterly bewildered by this turn of events. 'Of course I didn't steal any money from you. I'm not a thief, Mrs Philips. I didn't even know you'd lost any money.'
'I found it in your room,' Belinda went on, regardless of the denial. 'Initially I thought Amy was the sneaky little thief, but I kept an eye on her and soon realised that she knew nothing about it. So I had a look in your room and found it under your bed—'
'But I haven't a clue what you're talking about,' Hayley interrupted the woman. 'I haven't stolen any money from you, there's no way it could be in my room, and to suggest such a thing is completely unforgivable.'
'Later I saw you go downstairs,' the woman went on, regardless of Hayley's plaintive denial. 'I'd inched my bedroom door open so I could keep an eye on you. I followed you, Hayley. You hid the money in the kitchen.'
'No I didn't,' Hayley gasped. 'I haven't seen or touched your money. I wouldn't do such a thing. Never.'
'You were planning to make off with it, weren't you?' Michael said, emerging from the shadows.
Hayley shook her head, backing away a couple of steps. 'No. I've never heard such nonsense or been accused of such a thing!'
'Either you lie on the table or we call the police,' Belinda threatened.
'No, I won't.'
'Lie on the table, young lady.'
'No,' she said again, but put up no resistance as both her accusers took one of her arms each and manoeuvred her until her bottom touched the edge of the foreboding piece of furniture. 'No, you can't make me do this.'
But they were making her, and before she really even seemed to realise it she was pressed down until she was lying on her back. As she stared up at the low, vaulted brick ceiling she knew her situation was getting hopeless. If she tried to resist them they'd simply call the police as threatened with some trumped up charges and she'd be in all sorts of trouble. What could she say when questioned? Belinda would say that she found the stolen money in her room. The bag on the kitchen table probably contained the cash, and the backdoor was open. It wouldn't look at all good for her, and her predicament would be compounded by the ridiculous but potentially potent allegations of poisoning and assault. This was an ever-worsening nightmare. Hayley couldn't believe what was happening to her.
She had no choice but to comply, she knew as Belinda parted her feet and secured her ankles with the hanging ropes. Michael pulled her arms behind her head and tied her wrists, rendering her completely defenceless. Just what, she wondered fearfully, recalling Michael's penis ploughing deep into Amy, were they going to do to her?
As Belinda leaned over her tethered body and deliberately unbuttoned her blouse, laying it open, exposing the firm mounds of her breasts, Hayley was unable to speak. No words would pass her lips as cold fear gripped her. What did they intend to do to her? Would Belinda watch as her husband fucked her? No, surely they wouldn't dare to do that. Holding her breath as Michael passed his wife a leather belt, she watched, her eyes wide with trepidation, her mouth suddenly dry.
'No!' she wailed as the leather belt lashed down through the air, landing with a loud crack across her naked breasts. 'No, please...'
'You disloyal little thief!' Belinda hissed, again lashing the leather belt down with a cringing splat. 'You traitorous...'
'Disloyal little thief!'
This couldn't be happening, Hayley thought as she fearfully eyed the belt hanging from the woman's hand. Michael moved closer, leering as he focused on the blotchy stripes crisscrossing Hayley's milky breasts, her nipples erect and inflamed from the painful lashing. Where was Amy? Why didn't she come and help her. But why should she, when Hayley had done nothing to help her when she was at the mercy of Michael's lust?
As Michael gripped the hem of Hayley's short skirt and folded it up onto her flat tummy Belinda let out a wicked chuckle. The woman was definitely mad, Hayley thought, and Michael was a creepy pervert. They were staring at their captive, ogling her naked breasts and the smooth white panties covering the gentle swell of her pubic mound. Was Michael erect? Was Belinda turned on by having their young housekeeper strapped at their mercy to a table in their basement? Trembling, her heart racing, she looked up and tried to fathom out what was going on in Belinda's head.
'You silly girl,' the woman said. 'Since being here you seem to have gone out of your way to get yourself into trouble.'
'I've done none of the things you've accused me of,' Hayley returned adamantly, keeping one eye on Michael as he scrutinised her bound and naked body. 'You know very well that I haven't.'
'Never have I known such ungrateful wickedness,' the woman went on, ignoring Hayley's words of defence. 'So you're going to be punished to see if you're capable of learning your lesson.'
Moving slightly around the table, positioning herself between Hayley's parted legs, Belinda raised the leather belt above her head again and paused, the two employers savouring the frozen look of horror on the girl's face. Again holding her breath, her eyes wide, Hayley guessed the woman's intention and waited in fear and trepidation for the belt to sweep down through the air and lash the most sensitive area of her body. Belinda was insane. She had to be. What was she waiting for? Was she revelling in Hayley's plight?
Finally bringing the belt down with a loud crack across Hayley's white panties, she smiled as her trussed victim let out a long wail and writhed in agony as much as the ropes would allow her to.
'Let that be a lesson to you,' she hissed, stroking the stinging flesh of Hayley's sex through her underwear. 'I'm sure you don't want another lashing across your pussy, now do you?'
'No,' Hayley whimpered, her body trembling uncontrollably. 'No, of course I don't.'
'You wouldn't want my husband to deal with you, would you?'
'No ma'am,' Hayley said hastily, 'I wouldn't.'
'Well then, you'll be sorry to learn that that's exactly what he is going to do.'
Hayley couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd thought and hoped the vicious slice of the belt between her bound thighs had signalled the end of her torment - but apparently not.
'Tie this around her breasts,' Belinda ordered her husband, taking a length of thin nylon rope from one of the shelves and passing it to him. 'Tie it tight around her breasts, then you can thrash her some more.'
Hayley watched in horror as Michael wound the rope around her left breast. This was sexual torture, she thought desperately, imagining the belt licking across her exposed nipples. As Michael pulled the rope tight Hayley winced against the discomfort of her breasts swelling and becoming painfully taut. Her nipples grew and tingled.
'That's good,' Belinda praised her husband. 'Now you can administer some more deserved punishment to this ungrateful little bitch.'
Accepting the belt from his wife, Michael stood over the trussed girl on the table and gazed avidly at the ballooning spheres of her bound breasts. Belinda was an evil bitch, Hayley thought, grimacing as she waited for the first lash of the leather gripped in his fist. Swearing to get even with the woman, she focused fearfully on the belt as Michael raised his arm, his knuckles white as he gripped it so determinedly, above his head.
The belt unfurled and whistled down, landing across the taut flesh of her breasts and pulsing nipples. Hayley let out a yelp. Again the belt lashed her swollen breasts with a loud crack. With her burning nipples rising beneath the cruel lick of the leather belt, Hayley squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to protest any more. If she complained she was pretty certain that Belinda would only prolong the gruelling punishment. Holding her breath as the strip of leather flew through the air and again swiped her excruciatingly sensitive breasts, she dreaded to think what other horrors she might have to endure at the hands of her wicked bosses.
'This will teach you an important lesson, young lady,' Belinda said, staring hard at her bound captive. 'By the time you leave this basement you'll be obedient, respectful, and well behaved.'
Saying nothing, Hayley silently swore that she'd never respect either of her sadistic bosses. The woman was insane and he was pathetic, of that she was now certain. Gasping another yelp as the belt slapped her constricted breasts again, Hayley knew he was relishing every moment of administering the gruelling thrashing, and that his wife was relishing watching it.
'What would you like to do with her next?' Belinda asked Michael...