Evil's Niece

by Melissa MacNeal

  I widened my eyes, as though his idea was new to me. ‘Chapin, that’s so soon. I —’

  ‘But you have your new maids,’ he said, with all the finesse of one who had no idea how to orchestrate such a grand party. ‘And it’s time I met them, don’t you think?’

  As he levelled his blue-eyed gaze at me, I saw his usual challenge: what do you do with all your time, woman? Are you spending it with that bastard Dewel?

  I was about to defend myself when an ominous crash came from the kitchen.

  ‘You clumsy idiots. Look what you’ve done!’ Fanny’s voice rang out. ‘That china’s been in the Proffit family for three generations, and now it’s in pieces. Don’t you dare move! Miss Eve’s going to see this for herself — and then we’ll see who suffers for it.’

  13 A-Spanking We Will Go

  ‘Begging your pardon, Mr Chapin — Miss Eve,’ the housekeeper said a few moments later. She came to the massive table, drying her hands in her apron as though she’d rather rub the skin off them than say what she had to. ‘Seems the new — girls have had an accident with some china. I knew you’d wish to discipline them yourself.’

  Fanny’s announcement backed me into a correctional corner, for Chapin was observing how I handled my new staff — and Mrs Frike, by her very tone and the stance of her stout body, expected me to spank them. Monique’s method would immediately expose my new maids for the young men they were, so I tried desperately to think of an alternative. I’d had no practice at spanking. Nor did I wish to initiate the nasty fight Chapin would start when he saw cocks and balls popping out of their panties.

  How would Monique handle this? I fretted as I folded my napkin on the table. It was another big moment where I proved myself to my exacting husband, and I couldn’t bungle it.

  ‘Thank you, Fanny. I’ll take care of —’

  ‘Who made this big mess?’ a familiar voice cried in the kitchen. ‘Someone will confess, or I’ll hand out spankings all around!’

  I fought a grin, for Monique had arrived in the nick of time! When I walked into the kitchen with my husband behind me, the centre of the floor was covered with shards of pale pink china — a pattern I’d never liked — and along the wall stood Cleopatra, Antoinette and Cinderella. They glanced at me, and then at Chapin, with fearful eyes before addressing my irate maid.

  ‘I had washed these serving bowls, as Fanny asked,’ Cinderella whined, ‘and I was carrying them back to the shelves when Toinette stuck out her —’

  ‘You tripped over your own feet, Miss Slippery Slippers!’ the redhead retorted.

  ‘And how do you see it?’ I asked Cleopatra, who stood nearest the door.

  The queen with the coal-black hair shrugged, looking disgusted with her companions. ‘It was an accident waiting to happen. Mrs Frike’s been ordering us around, taking swats at our bottoms if we don’t move fast enough to suit her. I say we should all —’

  ‘Well, I say the three of you will await me in the parlour, on the settee,’ I replied, crossing my arms to give each of them a stern look. ‘Too bad this unfortunate moment will be Mr Proffit’s first impression of you — the servants he expects to perform to perfection at our Mardi Gras ball in less than two weeks. Now go, before my disappointment gets the best of me!’

  I pointed towards the parlour, rather pleased with myself. Had Chapin and Monique not been present, I’d have pooh-poohed the loss of those ugly bowls with just a warning to the new maids and a private word with Mrs Frike.

  My husband’s expression was impossible to read, as though he couldn’t believe domestics would spout off that way. Or else he’d caught their unusual names, and was studying them more closely than I wanted. He remained oddly quiet, crossing his arms.

  Monique, too, had her arms crossed beneath the breasts that bulged in her short black dress. Her topknot flopped wildly with each incredulous shake of her head. ‘Shall I fetch that new birch rod I made, Miss Eve?’ she asked. ‘We had just such an occasion in mind for it — panties up this time, but they’ll feel the sting of those little knots. And they’ll realise that if we have to get it out again, they won’t be sitting down any time soon!’

  Her gleeful demeanor gave me pause, but I could’ve kissed her for solving our problem of gender exposure. ‘Excellent idea. I’ll meet you in the parlour, and we’ll proceed.’

  I left the kitchen with my heels clacking firmly on the floor, a sound those sissy maids would come to associate with their derrieres’ doom. Not that I relished another whipping, for everything within me abhorred corporal punishment. But Monique had opened a door I couldn’t close. And consistency was important when dealing with a staff learning the expectations and procedures in a household such as ours.

  ‘Do you always defer to your attendant on such matters?’ my husband’s voice crept up from behind me. ‘Miss Picabou impresses me as —’

  ‘Much firmer and more intimidating than I, don’t you agree?’ I cut in with a smile. ‘Discipline’s the best thing, in the short time we have to train these girls. I’m simply allowing my maid — and Mrs Frike — to put their superior expertise to work for us, my dear.’

  ‘And where did you procure these young ladies?’

  Was that a warning edge I heard? I paused at the parlour door, deciding the three maids should overhear our conversation. ‘Upon several recommendations, I went to Miss Delacroix’s School for Domestic Endeavor. She has a reputation for providing only the finest domestics, so —’

  ‘And how did you choose these three?’ Chapin’s eyes flared with an icy-blue fire I only saw on rare moments, when he was more upset than he was letting on.

  Something warned me not to divulge the truth about Monique’s acquisition, nor about the backgrounds of the maids themselves. ‘If you feel they’re unsuitable, this close to the ball, perhaps I should just —’

  ‘Get in there and do the deed,’ he said with an impatient wave towards the door. ‘No sense in prolonging this nonsense, or letting them think you’ve changed your mind. We’ll discuss this later.’

  His tone grated on my nerves, but at least I was off the hook. I straightened my shoulders, and with arched eyebrows I entered the room where the three offenders awaited me. Monique was standing beside the fireplace, silently admiring the bundle of birch switches she’d bound at the bottom with bright red ribbons. Symbolic of the stripes soon to be crossing their backsides, I gathered.

  ‘Mr Proffit, may I present Cleopatra…Antoinette…and Cinderella,’ I said as each maid stood and curtsied in turn. ‘Despite what you must think, I assure you these young ladies will be more careful with the china in the future. Won’t you, girls?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Eve,’ they chanted. They were a demure lot in their ankle-length grey dresses and pinafores — except for Cinderella, who was admiring her reflection in her shiny black shoes.

  A loud tap, tap, tap of the birch’s handle against the mantelpiece brought them to attention. ‘Well, ladies, shall we proceed?’

  Monique gestured towards a straight-backed chair in the centre of the room, where I sat down as though it were all a part of our plan.

  ‘You realise, of course, that a second offence like this means a birching with your drawers down around your knees — even if Mr Proffit is present,’ my maid continued in her imperious tone. ‘Cleopatra, your insolent remarks about Mrs Frike have earned you the dubious honour of going first, non? Assume the position. Across my lady’s knee!’

  Hoping my eyes didn’t get as wide as the raven-haired servant’s, I sat straighter. What did one do with a twenty-year-old male bent over her lap? Neither Cleopatra nor I had much time to ponder this, for Mistress Monique took him by the arm and practically tossed him across my legs. With great ceremony, she then folded the grey uniform and the muslin shift up over the maid’s back, to expose a ripe young ass covered only in a layer of ruffled white cotton.

  ‘Four strokes with the birch,’ Monique announced, ‘and another if you cry out, or try to cover your butt with your h
ands.’

  I held my breath, watching Monique position herself beside me — so Antoinette and Cinderella had to watch — and take a couple of practice aims. The other two offenders sat even straighter when Fanny Frike walked in to stand behind their settee.

  Whisss-smack came the first whack, and I thought Cleopatra might jerk right off my lap. Directly in my line of vision, that firm young butt puckered, while his thighs remained tight.

  Whisss-smack…whisss-smack. With great precision, Monique landed her birch bundle so the entire cotton-clad surface felt the sting of her discipline — and hopefully the rest of him felt a humiliation that would encourage his penitence and better deportment.

  Whisss-smack came the fourth blow, and the young man in my lap let out a hiss of injury he hadn’t acknowledged otherwise. He felt very warm, with his stomach covering one of my legs and his ass bubbled up over the other. His erection prodded the inside of my thigh, enticingly close to my sex. I cleared my throat, determined not to fall prey to such fantasies and…fascinating scenery, while we were being watched.

  ‘And while you apologise — to both Miss Eve and Mrs Frike,’ Monique announced to the maid in my lap, ‘Antoinette will take her position. You girls would be finished in the kitchen and doing other work if we weren’t punishing your foolishness!’

  Cleopatra mumbled a ‘So sorry, Miss Eve,’ and rose up after discreetly lowering her skirts, appearing feminine again, in every way. Her olive face had two bright pink spots for cheeks, and those defiant dark eyes glistened with tears she refused to shed.

  In her place, I could not have remained so poised — which suggested she’d taken a lot of punishment from Honore Delacroix. Yet another point I meant to challenge the headmistress about, when I finally saw her!

  ‘Palms on the floor!’ Monique commanded Antoinette. ‘Four whacks, for whatever you did to make those dishes fall. Because you were the agitator, non?’

  The russet-haired maid barely had time to roll her defiant eyes and raise her skirts before the first smack landed. She sucked air — and so did I — and then braced her backside, drawing the frilly drawers into her crack.

  Again I was taken by surprise at how alluring this view could be; how utterly sensual it felt to have a young man’s weight suspended across my legs while he remained at the mercy of Monique’s birch — and his own libido. I could feel him growing hard against my thigh.

  Whisss-smack and Antoinette flinched with the bite of those little birch teeth.

  Then Monique paused, with her bundle poised, a calculating look on her face. The object of her discipline didn’t dare look over his shoulder to see what was going on, but after a few moments of unrealised anticipation, the muscles of that ass relaxed into a rounded cushion that just begged me to caress it. My palm wanted to feel the give of that warmed flesh through those thin, white panties, if only to soothe —

  Whisss —

  I caught my breath — and my hand! — just as the whack landed, and then the fourth one found its mark on the lowest part of the buttocks. Were those shimmers of heat rising from that quivering skin? Or were my eyes fogged with wanting and concern? The flimsy fabric of those white panties couldn’t be much protection, and my own backside ached in sympathy as Toinette made her apologies.

  ‘Your turn, little princess.’ Monique stood beside me, lowering her birch bundle so its handle hit the back of my wooden chair. Tap, tap, tap came that ominous sound, and Cinderella paled as she approached.

  ‘I — I didn’t mean to trip and drop those dishes. I’m just a clumsy little fool, and I shouldn’t pay attention to Toinette’s teasing about my —’

  ‘Shut up and assume the position,’ my maid barked. ‘We haven’t got all night! And remember, sweet Cinderella, you’ll get an extra whack — or two! — if you bawl like a baby, or try to cover that naughty little backside!’

  The slender blonde beseeched me with huge eyes already brimming with tears, but bent obediently over my lap. With dainty precision she turned back her skirts, steadied herself with her toes, and then gripped the leg of my chair.

  Tap, tap, tap went the handle of that birch rod again, which made Cinderella quiver while her two companions felt safe enough on the settee to snicker. They received a simultaneous cuffing from Fanny, who witnessed these goings-on with great interest, and kept her pudgy hands on their shoulders to maintain order. Cinderella, meanwhile, was already shaking like a scared rabbit, and I just wished Monique would be done with this.

  ‘You might be Miss Picabou’s aunt, but you can’t be evil,’ came a murmur from around my ankles. ‘You have the most exquisite feet I’ve ever seen.’

  Whisss-smack came the first stroke, and then the second followed close behind, covering the rest of the buttocks staring up at me. It shimmied beneath the frilly panties, being softer and less muscled than the other two. The tender skin was turning pink beneath the pale fabric, and Cinderella’s stomach lurched with her efforts not to cry out.

  The next whisss-smack filled the parlour with its hiss, and then with the caterwauling the maid couldn’t hold back.

  ‘Please, please! I’m so sorry —’

  Whisss-smack and then one slender arm jerked back to cover a butt that had to be burning. The only merciful thing to do was hold Cinderella’s wayward hand against her side, out of the birch’s way.

  ‘One more, because we won’t tolerate sissies and cry-babies,’ my maid crowed.

  And with that final, extra whack she turned Cinderella into a sad, hunching bundle that hugged my legs. I released her hand, ready to chide Monique for such a bloodthirsty display — after all, anyone could drop dishes! But her dark look and slight shake of the head held a warning I sensed I shouldn’t ignore.

  And lo and behold, once she stopped whimpering the blonde stood up, straightened her skirts, and faced me with a watery-eyed smile. ‘I’m so very sorry about your china, Miss Eve, and I promise to be much more careful with your belongings. And thank you, Mistress Monique, for spanking me with such firmness and fairness. I feel…humbled and penitent. Ready to be a much better domestic now.’

  No one expected such a heartfelt remark, and before any of us could react, Cinderella went on. ‘Cleopatra and Antoinette might not admit it, but we’re all terribly grateful that you’ve taken us into your home and under your wing, Miss Eve.’

  She dismissed herself with a little curtsy, and I reached for her hand. ‘And why is that?’ I asked — not to torture her more, but because her statement piqued my interest. Anything she said might prove useful, if Honore Delacroix got confrontational during our home visit.

  ‘While Miss Delacroix gave us a home and entirely new lives,’ she began, daintily wiping her eyes with a lace hanky, ‘the headmistress is so…possessive. Controlling. We can’t have a thought to ourselves, and —’

  Cinderella’s voice rose with her confession, and she became oblivious to the way everyone else in the room hung on her every word. ‘— and once, when I’d misbehaved, she made me kneel beside her chair, naked. She placed a large pane of glass on my back. I had to act as her table, while she served coffee and pastries to — to my mother!’

  My gasp was not the only one in the room. When I glanced towards Chapin, who’d watched the whippings from the door, I couldn’t miss the horror on his pinched, pale face. ‘And your mother allowed Miss Delacroix to —’

  ‘She didn’t know it was me, for I’d been instructed to face the other way and keep my head tucked between my elbows — as though I couldn’t bear to look at her!’ Cinderella rasped. ‘How utterly degrading, to be pointing my bare backside at that woman, while she made her annual donation to the school.’

  ‘And I once spent three days slaving naked,’ Antoinette joined in with a dramatic rise of her eyebrows. ‘Which included sweeping the front sidewalk, where passers-by might see me! And it was quite chancy, helping the cook butcher chickens. It’s no easy feat, stretching a squirming bird’s neck across the block while someone else wields the hatchet.’<
br />
  Thank goodness the redhead covered her breasts with her expressive hands, for my thoughts had gone to the cock bobbing near that block — an anatomical detail I did not want my husband to find out about!

  Chapin seemed quite affected by this image: he made a choking sound, and then coughed to cover it. ‘It’s rude and disrespectful to discuss Miss Delacroix this way, and I’ll have no more gossip and tale-telling,’ he stated, gazing sternly at the maids. ‘You’re fortunate to have received your training at such a well-respected school, where you’ve been prepared to earn an honest living — to serve in the finest homes.’

  Silent shame filled the parlour. Even Fanny Frike cowered beneath his glare.

  ‘By the way, my new valet, Judd Schuck, will arrive in a few days,’ he announced, his eyes narrowing pointedly at me. ‘The servant’s quarters seem an inappropriate place for him now, so he shall have the spare room adjoining my suite. I trust that your three girls — and Mistress Monique, of course — will have it ready for my inspection when I get home tomorrow.’

  * * *

  ‘Valet, schmalet!’ my maid jeered as she fetched my clean underthings the next morning. ‘That Judd Schuck’s nothing but a spy, non? Why else would Mr Chapin put him in that room between your two suites? My room, no less!’

  I smiled wryly, for Mr Schuck’s presence there certainly wouldn’t impede any sexual encounters between husband and wife. ‘I wondered if Chapin weren’t having illusions of grandeur yesterday, saying he needed a bodyguard. I think he’s so damn jealous, after seeing me with Dewel, that he’s hired this man to keep track of me, rather than anyone who might do him bodily harm.’

  ‘Which might be me, Aunt Evil,’ my maid replied. The pearl necklace I’d requested clittered in her hand as she shook it. ‘Mr Chapin’s getting awfully big for his britches. And Judd the Stud — he puts on a big act to cover a little prick. Hardly worth my time yesterday.’