I gave “Michelle” some specific instructions of what I expected of “her” over the weekend.

“She” was to do all the cooking and cleaning. She was to bring me a drink in anticipation of me wanting one. She was to dress and act demurely and femininely at all times. And she was only to speak when spoken to. Furthermore she was to refer to me as “Miss”, or “Mistress” at all times.

She was under no illusion that failure to meet my standards would result in punishment, and that the punishment would be likely to start with a spanking, and lead onto a caning or other punishments as I saw fit.

She stood in front of me, her maid’s dress now bulging at the front again, which let me know how turned on she was by this whole scenario.

I walked around behind her and lifted the back of her dress. “My, my,” I cooed, “those are very pretty panties you’re wearing, aren’t they?” I brushed my hand over the silky material, paying particular attention to the rows of lacy frills. She didn’t reply quickly enough, so I gave her two sharp smacks on her pantie-clad bottom.

The force of my spanks made her totter forward, and she struggled to retain her balance in her new high heels.

“So”, I repeated, “you're wearing very pretty panties, aren’t you, Michelle?”

She hung her head, and mumbled “Yes, they’re very pretty.”

I lifted her dress and whacked her bottom again several times. “Yes, they're very pretty, MISTRESS!” I barked as I smacked her.

I’d put my other hand around to the front of her panties as I spanked her this time, wanting to make sure she didn’t totter over again. I could feel how turned on she was, and the temptation to use her excitement for my own pleasure was huge, but I steeled myself to resist.

“Yes, Mistress!” she repeated, sheepishly, desperate for her spanking to stop.

“Very well,” I said. “The house needs vacuuming. Chop, chop! Get on with it!”

She went and got the vacuum cleaner and began her duties, looking very cute as she occasionally bent over to reveal her frilly knickers.

I went and sat on the sofa, delighting in the power I now had over Michelle, and how cute she looked in her maid’s outfit.

After twenty minutes, however, I decided it was time for more punishment.

“Michelle!” I snapped. She stopped her vacuuming and tottered over to stand next to me. “What did I tell you about anticipating my needs?”

She looked crestfallen, knowing that it was impossible to anticipate my needs, but that she was going to be punished anyway for failing to do so.

“You, um, told me I had to, Mistress.”

“Well, Michelle, I’ve been wanting another G&T for ten minutes now. But I can’t seem to find it. Where is it, Michelle?”

Of course she had no answer, and hung her head, knowing what was coming.

“You’ve broken the rules, Michelle. And what did I tell you would happen if you failed to obey the rules?” She stayed silent, staring at her high heeled shoes. “What did I tell you would happen, Michelle?”

Finally she spoke. “You told me I would be punished, Mistress.”

“Good girl,” I teased. “And how did I tell you that you would be punished?”

“You told me I’d have my bottom spanked, Mistress.”

“Then assume the position, Michelle, and let’s get your bottom spanked.”

I shifted my position of the sofa and put my knees together. Michelle draped herself over my lap and I lifted her dress, once again revealing her pretty frilly panties. I gave her six hard smacks on her bottom before standing her up to go and get my drink.