The Dirt Road

Chapter One Training She had been, over many weeks, more perhaps, she could not be sure when it had started, on the look-out for something. What it was, she could not decide, but change was pressing on her like a maddening wind. A sense of dissatisfaction pervaded her life. Lost in s****l fantasies, she seemed at odds with herself as a capable, no-nonsense, intelligent young woman. Perusing a search result list that had appeared in response to her entry of “jobs with horses,” an advertisement had struck her with its appositeness to her current state of mind. With a thrilling sense of her own daring, she had written a longish letter focussing almost entirely on horsemanship, enclosing a couple of certificates and a photograph taken of her with a horse, jodhpurs on, crop in hand, smiling at the camera in a jolly sort of way. She had addressed the envelope with the private post-box number given and set off for the post-office. It was scarcely believable to her that she had got this far. The position seemed to offer an approximation to her fantasies, but she was unclear as to what, of all the opportunities that present themselves on a daily basis, had prompted her to reach for this one, generally unsuitable to reality as it sounded. She hesitated in front of the mail-box. Her hand, holding the envelope, extended out to the slot. Then she withdrew it and compressed her lips. French maid! Who did she think she was? This was not a direction that would lead to fulfilling her potential, that would encourage her to take control of her life and build a successful career. She put the letter in her pocket and turned purposefully away, marched past the pub, passed the church, and reflected on the narrow escape she had just had. She would have nothing to be ashamed of. When she got home, she would tear the letter into tiny pieces and make a new start. How light she felt now; innocent and clean with her whole life before her! Thus engrossed in her own re-birth, she had almost reached home when she remembered an item she could have bought whilst in the vicinity of the shops. It seemed silly to be out and about and yet go home without it, even if it was not that urgent. She therefore retraced her steps, heading for the small supermarket across the road from the pub. Of course, she had to pass by the post-box again, but she ignored it completely, until she had already walked by, and realised that she had somehow thrown the letter in behind her own back. She then forgot about the item she had taken the trouble to return for, and walked on in a mist of horrified elation. *** Christine opened the door. On the step was a young woman in her early thirties. She had short brown hair, a large white smile, plump cheeks and a slightly shy, awkward manner that immediately brought out the older woman’s maternal instincts, such as they were. “Come in, love!” She touched Julia lightly on the arm, and walked her into the house. The interior was dark and cool in comparison to the hot summer day outside. They passed leather chairs and heavy book-cases, arriving in a sort of office looking out on a glass covered terrace. There was a desk and a filing cabinet, photographs of horses on the wall, and one or two implements associated with that activity enclosed in glass cases raised on pedestals. Christine saw that the woman was drawn to the horse pictures. “Yes, you’re fond of horses, aren’t you?” “You could say that!” Julia cheerfully agreed. The mistress of the house looked kindly but firmly at her. “Please address me as Madam!” She saw that the younger woman felt herself rebuked. Her face had coloured, and there was a faint trace of restiveness there. However, she recovered herself. “OK!” “A more suitable response to my request would be ‘Yes, Madam!’ “ Christine was now gazing at Julia in a meaningful way and Julia realised it was time to join in properly. “Yes, Madam!” “Well done! Now, your duties would be rather light. We want you to have fun! You are expected to keep the house clean and serve meals. Otherwise, you are welcome to help Alex with the horses. They always need exercising, especially when we don’t have clients. We expect punctuality and respectfulness. You do believe in discipline, don’t you?” Christine’s nostrils flared a little bit when she said that. She saw that she had made an impression on Julia, because, face colouring again, her chest rose just a touch more dynamically. “Oh… yes, Madam!” There then followed a low conversation in which there was an exchange of information about personal expectations and boundaries on both sides. Not so much ‘low’ for the sake of privacy, more for the sake of keeping the rules, if not unspoken, then softly spoken, so that their echo should not disturb the fantasy world they were creating. Madam was sure of her girl. “You can start immediately.” “Do I have the job, then?” “That’s why you’re here, dear.” “What about my things?” “You can get them tomorrow.” *** Julia had been there a week. To be sure, the house was big, but Sir and Madam seemed to mostly clean up after themselves. She quite liked setting out the table for breakfast, and the cosy domesticity when Sir and Madam descended. Outside, Alex barely spoke at all, unless it was to the horses, for whom he seemed to have a tender affection. In return, the horses responded to him with trust and willingness. She herself, being horse oriented, had felt his approval from the first, when she had been able to demonstrate her ability to communicate with them. On this morning, Sir seemed a little querulous. In truth, she had burned the toast. Perhaps it was the result of allowing herself to inwardly contemplate the knotty muscles in Alex’s sinewy arms, but whatever the reason, she had allowed the acrid smell to pervade the kitchen and encroach on the upstairs quarters. One thing led to another. Being conscious of his disapproval had put her off her stroke and she had clumsily spilled orange juice on the white tablecloth. Sir spoke, “Now then young lady! It seems you are not prepared to pay attention today. I must ask you to lean forward over that mess you have just made.” She peered down at the orange stain. “Put your hands on the table, and bend over!” Of course, she had known it would come to something like this. Still, she was not used to being helpless. Whatever her fantasies had been, she was actually a big strong girl and quite likely a match for Sir. She hesitated, laughing awkwardly, still peering at the mess, but unable to come to the point of responding to Sir’s command. Christine came to the rescue. “Be a good girl, Julia. Do as you’re told, love!” She said it in such a kind way that Julia, without further ado, leant across the table, arms stretched out to either side, hands grasping the table cloth so that it creased, her rather ample bottom now uppermost in everyone’s mind. Julia tensed as the older man grasped the hem of the very short maid’s uniform they had provided, pulling it upward and over the small of her back. It was not very comfortable presenting her underwear to strangers, and predictably, her face got even redder than usual. She felt him insert his thumbs between her waist and knickers and begin to pull them down. Immediately, she stood up, and rounded on her employer. “No! You don’t have permission for that!” He took a step back. Perhaps illogically, she already regretted her outburst. She had spoiled the game, and now they would all have to do some fancy footwork to re-establish it. “Can you please do it with my underwear on?” she asked in a conciliatory tone. With this, she turned back towards the table, resumed the position and reached back to hitch her dress back up, somewhat higher than it had been, as compensation, to show willingness. David Cordell put his hands on her lower bare back and forced her front down onto the juice patch she had created. “Well, young lady, you have rather disgraced yourself. After you have been spanked you will be banished to your room for the rest of the day. That means we will serve our own dinner and you will do without any. I cannot tolerate outbursts of this sort under my roof. Since you have been insolent enough to defy my authority in respect of your attire, you will in the future carry out your duties without the benefit of any kind of underwear. Then, should it be necessary to discipline you further, it will not be necessary to remove what isn’t there. You will now receive as many strokes of the hand as I feel appropriate.” He paused to let the words sink in before beginning. First, he placed the flat of his hand at a gentle thwack across her right buttock, three times. It was not painful. It was humiliating, but strangely stimulating. Then he attended to her left buttock in the same way. She began to feel warm. “I will have respect in my house!” The next three were delivered across both buttocks at a somewhat brisker pace causing her to jerk a little with the impact. A slow burn began to take hold of her skin. He returned to her right buttock, and this time he was laying it on in a manner that required some will power on Julia’s part to avoid squirming. That was something she did not want to do. She still had some dignity, even at this stage. At the third of the three that were then delivered to her left buttock, she let out a little gasp. “Now, I want you to depart the room for your quarters, and I don’t expect to see you for the rest of the day.” She stood up, irresolutely. Christine took something from a shelf and came forward, grasped the girl by the arm, and led her upstairs, all the while making soothing noises and encouraging comments. Julia had been a good girl to take her punishment. “You’ll have to stay in here until tomorrow, I’m afraid!” Luckily, Julia’s room was ensuite… Christine took the young woman in her arms and stroked her hair. It was comforting. “Let’s see if there are any bruises!” She bent down and pulled the disputed garment down around her maid’s ankles, then encouraged her to step out of them by running her hand down each leg and patting her calf, as if she were a horse having a shoe inspection. Julia knew the signal well and lifted her feet so that the knickers finally came off, after all. Christine took some lotion from the container she had brought up, and began to spread it over Julia’s bottom, getting her to hold up the hem of her dress. Never mind that due to the light spanking she had received, there was no bruising at all, Julia was happy to go along with the pleasurable treatment. Christine spread the lotion in a widening circle, Running her hands up and down the backs of Julia’s legs, slowly working her way back up, covering the insides of her maid’s thighs, gently massaging the cooling stuff deep into the skin. The area between Julia’s legs was beginning to expectantly ache. However, as her mistress’s hand arrived at the magic triangle, she defensively clamped her left hand over the opening and Madam left the field with a good grace, after kissing Julia on the cheek. “Please don’t forget, darling: no underwear until further notice!” “Yes, Madam!” *** The ensuing day was, as a consequence of her punishment, very uneventful. However, Julia had ample time to reflect on events so far. In fact, so empty was the day that she had a pretty good think over her whole life. In that regard, it was time well spent. Nonetheless she rather regretted a full day inside, without seeing a horse, and made a mental note not to find herself in that position again. Thus it was, that on the next morning she descended the stairs in a fresh, crisp uniform complete with starched apron, enthusiastic to meet her masters and have a full, active day, instead of ruminating in the garret. She wanted to be out with the horses as soon as possible, while there was still time, since Madam had said something about the arrival of clients.