My Victorian Maid ~ Part Four

Follow this link to part three…each part has a link to the one before…

…Well! I am flabbergasted! I thought I could trust her not to touch or mess about with things I specifically tell her not too….but no! My naughty maid Kate has excelled herself this time.

Most of you will know Neddy, my miniature rocking horse. I use it to specifically punish a girl with a riding crop. The rest of the time it just stands there, usually with my crop resting on it. When polished it looks lovely and makes a good conversation piece.

Imagine my shock and horror, when I walked by the parlour. Kate was supposed to polishing the brasses, including the coal skuttle which she was supposed to wash out and line with newspaper. Instead I heard giggles and calls of “Giddy up Neddy!” ….I burst in, fuming and spluttering, “what on earth?”

She was only riding on the damn thing!

“What the devil do you think you are doing? You silly girl! I don’t pay you thruppence a week to go having jolly japes in my parlour on one of my most special belongings! If you gave damaged it young lady!….ooooh! Stand up! Hands by your side, show some bloody respect damn you!”

She began to cry, she hates to think she has upset me. “Hah! Tears won’t save you my girl! Three dozen of the finest swipes with my most flexible riding crop will soon put you back in your place!”

‘Oooooh Master Jones, I have never seen you so angry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’ Sobbed Kate.

“Stop your blubbering, save your tears until your cheeks are glowing like the embers of the front room coal fire! Get over Neddy, bare your bottom girl!” I said as I went for my swishy crop. “My God, I am going to make this whistle and you sing!

“Bend forward Kate! I want that bottom out as far as you can push it! I am going to get you rocking like a young filly on a gallop!”

‘Yes Sir, yes Mister Jones, like this Sir?’

She pushed it out magnificently. I could see everything spread before me.

Sat on the edge of the saddle with her fine rump nervously hanging over the edge, I told her to start rocking…

Now I have seen Kate ride this saddle as a masturbation aid, it rubs in just the right place. The stains from her and others on the saddle testify to the fact. I knew that her orgasm would be wild.

She rocked more…and more, harder and harder, further forward then further back, faster, higher, even faster, even higher, the horse was swinging to its limit…almost….almost.

I began to whack, no mercy…thwack, whack crack!

She howled, and swung to and fro violently!

“Faster girl, gallop faster, there is a hedge to jump, I want you to clear it, come on!!! THWACK THWACK THWAAAACK!!!

The horse almost somersaulted on is forward swing, she almost fell off as she screamed on its return!

As her bottom came back, I greeted it with viscious swings of the riding crop, which wrapped right around her cheeks…”Faster”…THWACK, “higher, harder!” THWACK!

The sight was out of this world, she was like a jockey in the Grand National!

Sweat poured from her, juices gushed over the saddle as she came…

“Owwwwwww! Oh Mr Jones, thrash my arse! Stripe it well for me Sir! Thrash me! Thrash me! Yes, yes yessssssssss!”

Slowly things calmed, her bottom welted, red and bruised. It came to rest with a leathery creak, she panted. I knew what she wanted as she lifted her pussy over the edge…I unzipped my manhood. It slipped in as easy as an oiled finger into butter. I gripped her hips and rocked her…I came in just a few rocks….

What a memory to store….on my death bed, this might just be the last thought my brain recalls.

Did I ever tell you about my miniature rocking chair? Hmmmm, no? I’ll see you soon then!