For Charlotte part 1

Mrs Kelling was expecting me. I had written to her at the end of last week and had received her reply on Wednesday. I do not often take my day off but this week I requested that I might be allowed Friday for myself and Sir George had agreed.

I had thought long and hard before contacting Mrs Kelling, my feelings concerning her were very complex, but I knew that she was the only way to Sir George’s heart. That if my dear Charlotte were to be granted his permission to marry her lovely Mr Lewis it could only be achieved through the persuasive powers of Mrs Kelling. Without her intercession Charlotte would surely die of a broken heart. I could not bear to risk that even if I knew that asking for Mrs Kelling’s help was sure to be costly. How would she be with me? Would she see me as friend or enemy? What of the things that had happened between us?

She answered the door herself. I had expected a maid but seemingly the staff had been given a days holiday for the house was still and quiet and no-one came to offer tea or coffee or to take my coat. She was as beautiful and as elegant as ever. She led me through into a beautifully appointed study. This was clearly her domain, for the room was sensitively furnished and had that feminine touch about it that marks out a woman’s space. She gestured for me to take a seat and I perched myself on the edge of a sofa.

“Well Miss Downing, how lovely to see you again. I did wonder if you might get in touch but the weeks went by and I heard nothing from you. George told me you were well but gave me no indication of your feelings. I began to think you might be trying to avoid me after our last… encounter? But now here you are.” She gave me a knowing, sly smile.

I felt the colour come to my cheeks, the memory of that ‘encounter’ was still very vivid in my mind.

“I haven’t sought to avoid you Mrs Kelling,” I replied, “Quite the contrary if the truth were told. I must admit that I have found it very hard not come seeking you. I have thought of you very often indeed and with a warmth of affection. I… I…just wasn’t sure how I would be received. You were so angry with me for trying to come between you and Sir George. ”

She smiled and came and sat on the sofa next to me. “Oh Amelia, you are a sweet little thing aren’t you. I had no idea I had captured your heart. You should have come sooner.” She reached out and brushed a stray hair from my face. I shivered at her touch. “But I think from your letter that you have come, not for your own benefit but for Miss Charlotte’s? Is that so?”

I nodded.

“Then tell me.”

So I told her. I told her of Charlotte’s love for Martin. How he was a good and honourable man. A man worthy in every way to be her husband. Of how Martin had been received at Winterbrook. Of how Charlotte had been distraught at Sir George’s adamant refusal to countenance a marriage. How even now she was broken-hearted and crushed in spirit.

“Only you can persuade him Mrs Kelling, only you have that sort of influence over him. He will do anything to please you.” I begged her.

She smiled again. “Yes Miss Downing, men are so very weak aren’t they? I have no doubt that it would take only a few tempting promises on my part to have him change his mind in very short order. I find that I can be very persuasive when I want to be, if I am willing to give him what he desires.”

“So you will do it?” I asked eagerly.

She ran her finger across my cheek again, making me shiver once more. “Oh yes Amelia, of course I will do it, but only if you are prepared to give me what I want.”

“W…wh…what … do you want?” I asked, feeling my heart beat quicker.

“I want you Amelia,” she said softly. “I want you as my little plaything for today and whenever I choose to call on you.”

I felt myself blush deeply and my hands shook. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“Then I am yours to command Mrs Kelling.”

She smiled. She had a feline look about her, like that cat that has caught itself a mouse and is delighting in playing with the poor creature.

“Stand up Amelia,” she ordered.

I got to my feet. She stood too and took my hands. She drew me towards herself and kissed me softly on my lips. I trembled as her lips touched mine, remembering the kiss we had shared in the schoolroom.

She stood back and appraised me, looking me up and down. The colour was high in my cheeks and I could feel my heart beating very fast.

“Undress me,” she said.

She turned so that I could undo her dress. My hands shook as I fumbled with the tiny buttons. I slipped the dress from her slender shoulders and it fell to a crumpled heap around her ankles. She stepped from it and I scooped it up to drape it over a chair. She stood passively before me. I untied her underskirts and placed them with her dress. She gave me no instruction to stop so I attended to her corset cover next. Now she stood before me in her underclothes; drawers, stockings, corset.

“I won’t be needing my knickers on Amelia,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement.

I untied her drawers and let them fall. I couldn’t help but look at what was revealed. Her bottom was full, shapely and unmarked. When she turned I saw that the brief triangle at the juncture of her thighs was neatly trimmed.

“Now you,” she said softly, “Stand still.”
I shivered with excitement and nervousness as she began to undress me. I was wearing my usual long skirts and and a white lacy blouse. She divested me of these in very short order. My chemise and corset cover quickly followed. For a woman of her class she was remarkably adept at this, there was no clumsiness, no fumbling with awkward buttons and ties, it was as though she had undressed a girl before, she was as competent as any ladies maid. I knew she would take my drawers down but it still felt strange to feel her undo the tie and for them to slip down my legs.

We stood looking at each other, both in the same state of semi-nakedness.

“Perfect,” she whispered, “All ready to play.”

She took my hand and led me across the room to stand in front of her desk. She opened a drawer and began to take items out. The first was a hairbrush, oval, wooden backed, like the one I owned myself. The second was a man’s slipper, leather soled. The third a leather strap, shiny with use. Then finally there were two canes, one light and thin than the other heavy and dark. I looked at the final implement with a degree of fear – I knew what it was, the fearsome dragon cane.

I had been expecting this, I knew she would want to punish me but seeing the implements laid out there brought the reality home. How much would she demand of me before she felt that I had earned her favour for Charlotte? I felt both my own excitement and my trepidation increase by another notch or two.

She reached into the drawer and took out a wooden box. It rattled as she placed it on the desk. She lifted the lid to reveal the dice inside.

“We are going to play a game of chance Amelia. There will be a round for each implement, so five rounds in all.”

I glanced at the implements, imagining her caning me like she had before, remembering both the pain and the pleasure.

Mrs Kelling continued, explaining how the game would work. “We both take a handful of dice –as many as we wish, but no fewer than three. We roll those dice and compare the results. Rolls of one are winning dice. Whoever rolls the most ones is the winner for the round. We then look to the loser’s dice, adding up those that are fives and sixes. That number is the number of strokes of the implement that the loser receives.”

I thought I understood, but I wasn’t entirely sure.

“Would you demonstrate?” I asked.

“Of course dear Amelia, you must understand how it works before we start.” She reached into the box and took six dice in her hand. “Now you, you must take at least three dice but beyond that as many as you wish.”

I selected the same number as her.

“And now we roll them,” she said.

We both rolled our dice onto the surface of the desk.

“Now we look for ones.”

We compared the rolls. I had rolled two ones, a three, a four, and two sixes. Mrs Kelling had rolled a single one, three fours, a five and a six.

“As you can see Amelia you have beaten me, your two ones to my single one. Therefore I must be punished. The number of strokes I must take are given by the fives and sixes – I have one of each so must receive eleven strokes.”

I suddenly realised the diabolic twist that this game contained. You could increase your chance of winning by selecting more dice than your opponent. However, that carried the risk that were you to lose then your punishment was likely to be greater.

“Who chooses their dice first?” I asked.

“Let’s say the winner chooses first. But for this first round perhaps I should begin?”
I nodded. She took the hairbrush and placed it in the centre of the desk. This was to be what were playing for.

Before she reached for the dice box she looked directly at me. “Oh Amelia let me make one more thing clear before we start. My agreement to do what you have asked of me is entirely dependent upon your willingness to play to the end of the game, no matter what the dice demand of us. If you find that you cannot continue at any point then poor Charlotte will not get her Mr Lewis.

I gave an involuntary shiver. I did not know the limits of what I could endure, but for Charlotte’s sake I was determined to be resolute.

“That is fully understood Mrs Kelling,” I assured her.

“Excellent,” she smiled.

I watched as she took a handful of dice and counted them into her hand, eight in all. I thought for a moment; should I take more or less? I couldn’t decide. I closed my eyes, dipped my hand into the box and took the dice my fingers closed over. I opened my palm to reveal just five dice. I swallowed hard – this was a round that Mrs Kelling was likely to win.

She looked at me and smiled, a wicked little smile. She rolled her dice and I rolled mine. Eagerly we both bent forward, like two small children, keen to see who had prevailed. I was surprised. I had rolled fewer dice but I had two ones and Mrs Kelling had none! I looked up and met her amused gaze. She did not seem at all perturbed to have lost.

“Oh dear Amelia, I seems you have beaten me. What is to be my forfeit I wonder?”
We both looked down again. Mrs Kelling had rolled high – amidst the eight dice two were fives and two were sixes. A total of twenty-two. She reached across the desk and picked up the hairbrush. She offered it to me. “Twenty-two strokes please Miss Downing.”

I took it from her. Having the implement in my hand seemed to restore some of my confidence. I did not feel nervous anymore, I knew what I was doing.

I crossed the room and pulled an upright chair into the centre of the carpet. I sat down. It was strange to feel my bare bottom against the seat of the chair.

“Come here Anastasia,” I ordered, “Over my knee.”

She ran her tongue over her lips, her eyes were bright. “Yes miss,” she breathed.
She approached me and bent forward over my lap, placing her hands on the carpet in front of her. I placed the hairbrush in the middle of her left cheek. As I raised it I felt her tense. I hesitated, the brush raised in the air. If this had been Lucy or Charlotte draped over my lap there would have been no hesitation but this was different. This was not a girl but a grown woman like myself. I brought the hairbrush down in a weak slap.

Mrs Kelling turned her head. “You can do better than that Miss Downing. Do it properly, I shall not be holding back when it’s your turn to be punished.”

I felt a new determination. Well, if she wanted to be properly spanked she should have her desire!

I brought the hairbrush down smartly on her bare bottom. She gasped softly and shifted across my knees. I smacked her again, the right cheek this time. There was a pink oval mark where the hairbrush had landed. I gave her another, marking her in the same way. Over the course of the next five minutes those marks were transformed from a soft pink to a very rosy red. For her part Mrs Kelling took her spanking very well. She wriggled and gasped but made no attempt to protect her bottom or evade the stinging blows.

She slipped off my lap and knelt on the carpet in front of me.

“Thank you Miss Downing,” she sighed, “That was very well done.”

She got to her feet.

“I always like to be kissed better after being punished don’t you?”

I can’t say anyone had ever offered to kiss me better but I nodded nonetheless. She turned her back on me.

“Kiss it better then.”

I had thought she wanted me to kiss her mouth but now I understood. I leant forward and planted a gentle kiss on her red bottom. She sighed. I kissed her again… and again, planting kisses all over her hot cheeks. She moaned softly and slipped her hand between her legs. I remembered doing much the same when I had spanked myself many months ago. As I kissed she slowly rubbed herself, moaning softly all the time.

“Enough…” she said. “I must see the game all the way through before either of us is allowed to achieve satisfaction. Come, time to roll some dice again.”

She took my hand and drew me to my feet and led me over to the desk again. First she took the slipper and placed it in the centre of the table just as she had with the hairbrush.

As the winner I had first choice of dice. Mrs Kelling had taken eight the first time. Perhaps it would be cowardly to take less? I selected nine. She matched my selection.
For the second time that afternoon we rolled our dice and eagerly looked for the winning ones. My heart gave a little skip as I realised that this time Mrs Kelling had rolled the winners.

“Your turn for a sore bottom Amelia,” she said, smiling. “How many is it to be?”

I examined the dice again, two sixes and a five.

“Seventeen, ma’am.” I replied.

“Very good,” she said, “I shall enjoy giving your bottom a rosy glow.”

“Where would you like me?” I asked.

“Over my knee I think, I’d like to have you close to me so that I can feel your reaction.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant at first but I obediently placed myself across her silken knees. I gave a little gasp of surprise as, without any warning at all, she slipped her small hand down between my legs. Instinctively I clamped my thighs together, trapping her hand. She giggled and smacked me lightly on the bottom with the slipper.

“Part your legs you naughty girl. I told you that I want to feel your reaction and there is only one place to touch you if I am going to do that.”

I felt myself blush with the open wantonness of it. Yes she had touched me last time but I had resisted her touch then even though I had welcomed it. I could not pretend that I did not want it now but the brazenness with which she asked it of me could not but shock me. I opened my legs a little. She gave me a proper smack with the slipper making me gasp.

“Wider girl.”

I spread my legs, my face burning with shame, knowing that even before she spanked me I was already aroused. I felt her index finger caress down the length of my groove before it came to rest, lightly, on my little bud. With her finger there the spanking began. As she had promised she did not hold back. She lifted the slipper high and cracked it down smartly on my bottom. It smarted hotly and I gasped again. As she spanked me I could not keep still, I wriggled and writhed across her knees, pressing myself lewdly against her rigid finger, working myself up into a state of some excitement. Seventeen smacks were more than enough to leave me rather sore and very wet. When she was done she made me sit astride her, one hand rubbing my bottom, the other stroking the nape of my neck and pulling me closer until our lips met. We kissed, gently at first and then deeper and with more passion, her tongue in my mouth and then mine in hers. She tasted sweet.

She made me stand and turn and place my hands on my heed whilst she examined the state of my chastised posterior.

“Nice and pink Amelia,” she pronounced “and perfectly warmed up for a more severe punishment. Are you ready to go on?”

“Yes,” I nodded, trying and failing to keep the excitement out of my voice.

We approached the table for the third time. Anastasia took the leather strap and placed it in the centre of the table. It looked well used and if my experience with similar implements was anything to go by then it was sure to impart a very fiery sting!

As the winner of the last round Anastasia chose her dice first. She picked out eight. I met her gaze as I reached my hand into the box. I could see the amusement in her eyes, she was enjoying this, and thought I hated to admit it, so was I. It felt thoroughly debauched, and yet if I ignored the sense of shame that accompanied this feeling I was honest enough to recognise that this encounter was meeting an erotic need that had long been suppressed. I took nine dice. Anastasia gave me a nod and I rolled my dice. It was a good roll, three ones and just one six. She met my eyes again and gave a little smile. Her dice rattled across the shiny table top. We both looked down. Two ones, no fives, two sixes. Her turn then.

“It seems that we must go turn and turn about Miss Downing,” she remarked.

She picked up the strap and held it out to me on her upturned hands.

“Twelve strokes if you please miss,” she said softly.

“Bend over and touch your toes you wicked girl,” I said sternly. I saw her give a little shiver of excitement at this instruction. Perhaps she enjoyed me being verbally strict with her? She bent forward, and placed her fingertips on the shiny toes of her laced boots. Her bottom was nicely presented, the white skin in contrast to the black of her stockings.

“I am going to give you a dozen hard strokes young lady. A dozen strokes that you thoroughly deserve, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes miss,” she said in a low voice, “I have been an extremely bad girl.”

“Indeed you have Anastasia!” So saying I lifted the strap, caught the end of it in my left hand, took careful aim, then brought it cracking down. I did not hesitate this time, it was a proper stroke just as I would have given Lucy or Charlotte. Mrs Kelling gave a long gasp of pain as the broad red stripe was marked across her bare bottom.

“Count them and thank me,” I ordered.

“One… thank you miss,” she replied obediently.

I lifted the strap again. There was a loud crack of leather on bare flesh as I brought it down across Anastasia’s cheeks. She gasped aloud.

“Two… thank you miss,” she said after a short pause to find her breath.

After six strokes I stopped, we were halfway through. Anastasia‘s bottom was very red. As I had imagined it would be the heavy strap was a very effective implement.

“Stand up and put your hands on your head girl,” I ordered.

She straightened up slowly and raised her arms, placing one hand flat on top of her dark hair and the other on top of it. Her eyes were shining. I stood in front of her and held up the strap.

“You are going to kiss the strap and ask for the rest of your punishment,” I told her.

She did not argue. I held the strap to her lips and she kissed it softly.

“Please punish me further Miss Downing, I deserve to be severely beaten,” she said softly.

“Again,” I ordered.

She kissed the strap a second time, her lips lingering against the shiny leather.

“Please chastise me Miss Downing, I thoroughly deserve a severe whipping for being such a wanton girl.” The excitement was clear in her eyes, she was enjoying this very much indeed. I wondered if Sir George was as strict with her? He certainly should be, for it assuredly added to her pleasure.

“Assume the position,” I ordered.

She bent over again and offered her red bottom to the strap. I took my time with her. Walking slowly around the room between strokes before taking up position and delivering another smart cut. She counted out the strokes in the same low voice, heavy now with arousal. I made sure the last one was a real stinger, putting all the force I could muster into it and landing it right across the fullest part of her bottom. I was rewarded with a sharp yelp of pain from Anastasia. It took her the best part of thirty seconds to find the voice to call out the stroke.

“Stand up,” I ordered.

She stood and pressed her hands to her smarting bottom.

“Well Miss Downing,” she remarked ruefully, “I should have guessed at your proficiency with the strap, you have certainly warmed me very nicely. Give me your hand.”

She took my unresisting hand and guided it between her legs. She was hot there too, hot and wet. I rubbed gently. It was strange doing that to another woman. I had done it often enough to myself but to enflame another with the my fingers was something quite new to me. She moaned softly.

“Mmmm… see what effect your punishment has had on me Miss Downing. You were quite correct, I am a very wicked girl.”

I did not quite know how to respond so said nothing. She planted a soft kiss on my lips.

“Enough Amelia, we have a game to complete do we not?”

She led me back across to the table. The implement she selected this time was the cane. The light, slender rod that she had shown me earlier.

“A nice light cane Amelia, it looks innocuous but it imparts a very intense little sting. I find it quite takes my breath away when Sir George uses it on me. I wonder how you will find it?”

“You are assuming that you will win the next round Mrs Kelling,” I smiled, “Perhaps it will be you that will be feeling its intense little sting?”

She giggled girlishly and indicated the box of dice. “Time to let chance decide I think.”

My hand hovered over the box as I decided how many dice to take. My bottom was still smarting from the slipper and I had enjoyed using the strap on my opponent, I was keen to use the thin, whippy little cane but wasn’t so sure that I relished the thought of being on the receiving end. I took ten dice, hoping that Mrs Kelling might choose fewer. She did so, selecting just six.

We made our rolls. Lady luck smiled on me again. Four ones were more than enough to gain me victory. Not a huge victory, for Mrs Kelling’s roll produced but a single six and no fives, but a victory nonetheless. I picked up the thin cane and flexed it in my hands, it was very whippy indeed. Mrs Kelling glanced at it and for the first time I saw a measure of trepidation in her eyes. This was obviously an implement that she found something of a test to endure. But she had chosen it, just as she had chosen our game, and must now pay her forfeit.

“Bend over the desk young lady,” I ordered, “you’re going to get six of the best, six of the very best!”

“Yes miss,” she breathed.
She bent forward over the desk, her forearms resting on the polished surface, her head well up, her back dipped and her bare, red cheeks beautifully presented. Anastasia Kelling is a very beautiful woman, and I could see why Sir George finds her so attractive. Seeing her place herself in the submissive position I felt my heart beat quicker.

I rested the thin cane across her bottom, then giving her no warning at all I drew it quickly back and whipped it down hard. It left a pure white line across her red bottom, a line that, even as I watched changed from white to deep red. She gave a sharp cry and jerked against the edge of the desk.

“Keep still girl, or I’ll give you extra!” I said, sternly. She shivered – whether in delight or fear I could not tell.

I whipped the cane in again. It almost whistled as it cut the air. Anastasia yelped again and frantically writhed her hips. I gave her a moment to be still before I gave her the third stroke. She gasped and kicked up a heel.

“I warned you about moving – that stroke does not count,” I told her “You still have four to come.”

“Yes miss,” she groaned.

I was completely without mercy. The thin cane was not easy to control but I have had plenty of practice in caning naughty girls over the last few months and although the cane stripes intersected they all landed across her round bottom. Anastasia found it very hard to keep still, she wriggled and writhed and bent her knees. I had given her fair warning and I was not going to be lenient. She might have only been due six but she took ten. When I allowed her to stand up her bottom was criss-crossed with a tracery of very sore looking stripes.

She turned to me, her eyes very bright.

“I can see why Sir George employed you Miss Downing. You are the disciplinarian par excellence are you not?”

I permitted myself a little smile. “I am a professional Mrs Kelling,” I told her.

“Whereas I am simply an enthusiastic amateur,” she smiled. “However, when it comes to the arts of love I suspect that I have the better of you in both experience and expertise. Come here Amelia.”

I could not resist, she drew me to her and kissed me deeply. Even whilst her tongue was in my mouth her fingers played between my legs. Somehow the way that she touched me, enflamed something in me that I had never known before. Oh I had played with myself so often in the past (and been thoroughly ashamed of my self-abuse), but this was something of a different order to anything I had managed to achieve with my clumsy fumblings. Her fingers found the places that excited me the most with a skill that took my breath away.

I could feel myself approaching my peak. Maybe she could sense it too for she broke away from me and held me at arms’ length.

“We must not get ahead of ourselves Miss Kelling, there is still the final round to play!”

“Oh please don’t stop!” I begged shamelessly.

She laughed. “Oh my pretty little Amelia I do so like you. One moment the hard-hearted martinet, the next all aflame with sexual passion and gasping for more. But no, you shall not have your release until I decide that you shall. And certainly not until we have finished the game. I’m sure that we will both enjoy the finale!