by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 36c
Mother was on the phone and I was worried that I’d be late to the roof top dinner party that a particular investment backer was having at his new Fifth Avenue duplex . He’d had his eye on me, marriage wise, and I’d been mulling over whether or not I should accept his more recent proposal. I mentioned it to mother and she gave me the nine yards about his character, integrity and whether or not he could afford a girl like me.
I finally admitted: “Well he’s rich, but not all that rich.”
“Haven’t you any idea, by now?”
“Well, I can confirm that he has at least fifty million.”
Mother said, “I’ll have father check him out.”
“Mother, if you need to check him out just read the papers.”
“I don’t believe anything those idiots say. What I want to know is whether or not he can withdraw all his spare change tomorrow or is it tied up in stock options and other devious forms of make believe currency?”
“It is not make believe. It’s fifty million. Forty-nine more than one.”
“I don’t care. I’ve been around too long to know a rat when I smell one. I don’t like the whole idea. I think you should get someone respectable with roots in society. Not some parvenu wonder.”
“And what makes you think he’s not respectable?”
“If you insist on marrying a pauper be prepared to have to work someday.”
“You forget I have my own business, and though I only made three million last year I wouldn’t really say that’s bad for a single girl in Manhattan. How much did you make?”
“Don’t be silly and don’t get fresh. You’ll be raising a family.”
“I’ll be doing both.”
“I’ll let that one go by. You better come to grips with married life.”
“I already have.”
“I doubt you ever will…have you done that other thing I asked of you?”
“Must you bring that up.”
“Yes, I must.”
“Then I have.”
“You have? Good.”
“I thought you’d feel that way.”
“Carrie, you know exactly how I feel — and may I ask, whom did you find?”
“You remember that butler? The Rodney fellow?”
“Him? Really? Then why did you get rid of him?”
“That’s another can of worms. But I want you do know that I listened to you.”
“Then you go fire the man? I don’t call that listening. I call that stupidity, Carrie.” Then she sarcastically jibed, “Wasn’t he up to standards?”
“He was very thorough, if that’s what you mean.”
“Really?”
“In fact, I have a feeling you called him.”
“Young lady, I would never do such a thing.”
“I wonder about that.”
“Well, you go and wonder.”
I decided not to fight with her. I didn’t have the strength nor the patience. But I teased her with this: “I thought you should know that I have found other men as well. They take their turns with me.”
“Really? They take their turns? Is that on a regular basis?”
“When my their schedule allows.”
Getting suspicious, mother asked, “How long as has it been since your schedule allowed?”
“Well, two weeks.”
“Two weeks? Don’t be ridiculous. I would insists at least once a week, minimum.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve hired another butler and he’s starting tonight.”
“Good. Is he well trained?”
“Very much so. He’s a Groton butler and the Grotons won’t have anything less. Especially, Mrs. Groton.”
“Mrs. Groton? You know, I haven’t seen her in ages. I think I’ll give her a ring. Maybe have lunch. Talk about our days at Sarah Lawrence when a girl had to think about getting punished if she got out of hand. Not like today’s impudents.”
“You do that, mother. Goodbye.”
“Who’s this other fellow who sees to you?”
“I don’t think you’d like him, mother.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Yes, mother.”
“And don’t yes me.”
“Yes, mother.”
I said goodbye. I was running late and I needed to train Thisley on a few basics. First, I had him come into my bedroom. He needed to get used to was seeing his mistress in just a flimsy panty. He mentioned that Mrs. Groton traipsed around her living quarters the same way.
I’m a keen observer of behavior and realized that he wasn’t lying. Thisley was very proper and acted as if I were fully dressed; and he didn’t linger at my ripeness. I made him understand that he must serve his mistress to an even higher standard than his previous one. He assured me that he would not let either me or himself down. I was willing to give him that chance. I just knew that he’d relish it.
It was understood that I was to be catered to at all moments with a selfless passion. I could tell that this turned him on more than anything, a peculiarity with all good servants. Servants, like Thisley, who understand the importance of service are quite valued and it is wise to recompense them financially, as well as spiritually, should you ever be in the position to require any.
I took him to my bathroom and showed him how I liked to be washed, at what temperature the water must run, and what kind of soaps that I use in the morning and evening. I had him prepare my bath as a first test. Then I slipped off my flimsy wear and got in the tub and allowed him to sponge me. His hand movements were even on all points of my body, including my endowedness. He proved his skill and ability to serve my bathing needs rather than some base libidinous need, instead. A servant of lesser standards would pathetically reveal the sort of crudity that exhibits itself in most other people.
I sat back in my tub and shut my eyes while he gently sponged me. His movements were effortless and my mind drifted away like a summer cloud. I suddenly felt new and revitalized. I only wished Rodney or that other jerk, now with Alexa, understood a woman’s need as properly as my new butler had.
I have six different sponges each to be used on a different part of my body. Thisley, I found out, had no problem catching on. It seems Mrs. Groton has the same regimen. I was pleased. I needed to thank her.
Afterwards, I pointed out where everything was — my different closets with different outfits — and I had him learn where everything was so when I wanted something he’d be able to immediately retrieve it for me. Of course, it would take a few weeks to learn everything, but I felt Thisley was more than capable of mastering this slight chore.
While I stood before my dressing mirror, waiting for Thisley to return from my closets, I suddenly felt the warmness that overcomes me if I haven’t been spanked for a period of time. Mother somehow knew I needed to be spanked. Girls that have always been spanked should expect this. And I’m a girl who had always been hotly spanked.
Ashamed to be caught thinking of this in front of my new butler, I quickly composed myself when he returned. My discipline situation was not why I had hired him. As I have already said, I have other men who feel they need to deal with me in that manner, as much as I disagree and protest.
Thisley proudly showed me what he had chosen for my evening wear. He nervously awaited my approval while I nervously waited for my flushness to disappear, but I hastily nodded my approval and dropped my towel to the floor. I shouldn’t have. My nipples were flush and ripe and my breasts swelled from my headiness. Two weeks seemed to have been an eternity. I reached for my panty and bra, but avoided Thisley’s concerned eyes.
“Sheer black? What made you chose that?”
He said, “You will be dining on the messer’s terrace. It seems to be a bit humid this evening. Plus you said the gentleman might propose to you. Something light and thin with fancy lace to offset the sheerness might put you in a more romantic mood, as well as the gentleman.”
I slipped it on. It was very naughty they way it showed a bit of my bush and tush. “Should I fetch you another one, madam? I said, “No. This is just the idea. What else have you decided on?” He returned with a lovely new black pleated mini low-rise that had a cute big matching buckle belt with silver rings at each notch. It was cut to drape right off a girl’s bottom. Then he presented me with a snow white mid-riff silk tank top, simple but elegant, light and tauntingly thin. I tossed the bra on the bed. “Something wrong madam?” I said, “Not a thing. Hand me my top.”
I slipped it on and goaded Thisely, “Maybe I should go like this?”
“Pardon me, madam, if you will, but you’re not actually serious?”
My top hung at least six inches above my panty line and my plump nipples pushed delightfully out. Of course it was terribly risqué and sexy and this would most certainly make the other girls jealous. You see the idea was that I’d be proposed to in front of all my friends; girls just love vicarious events.
“Actually, Thisley, I think I’ll slip on a pair of black pumps and head over. The hell with the mini.”
“You’re not serious, madam. That would be most scandalous to say the least.”
“That’s what they said about Madonna, then they decided she was a fashion genius.”
“I wasn’t aware of that, madam.”
“Now you are. Bring me my pumps.”
Thisley brought me my pumps though he almost didn’t hand them over . I reached for them, “Give them to me, Thisley.”
“Surely you’re not going to leave the premises only your panties, madam.”
“And why not?”
“Despite whatever cleverness your delightful mind conjures, what would people say? What would they think? Every other fine impression of you would be instantly overridden. It would socially be a total disaster.”
“Thisely, you shouldn’t get all upset at what people might say or think. They will all be dead in less then one hundred years; that’s a fact. Why not have some fun in the meantime? Don’t you like to have fun, Thisely?”
“Certainly, madam, but if you insist on going out like that maybe you should at least change into a panty that isn’t as sheer or as brief?”
“No, I want them to see me.”
“Then let me fasten your bra”
“Why,?”
“Ms. Dupree…I see that my patience is being tried, but I beg of you…”
“I don’t care. They can call me slut if they want. And the hell with my brassiere.”
Ruffled, he continued, “Yes, madam, but I’ve just happen to indiscriminately notice that your size slightly extends the medium range of most woman.”
“I’ve noticed that too.”
“I’m trying to be serious, madam. You’ll cause a riot should you step out of the premises like that.”
“I’m in the mood to cause a riot. People get so complacent. So utterly boring. So completely dead. We should attach tombstones around our necks so we’d all know just how long we’ve been dead.”
Seeing that he was losing, Thisley took stock of the situation and of himself, “As you wish madam.” His suffering was tantalizingly amusing. I could barely keep myself from laughing. Finally I laughed out loud, and realizing that he had been had he said, “Madam, I’m beginning to see quite well how be terrible you can be.”
“How terrible am I, Thisley?”
“Very much so,” and handed me my skirt and bra. I slipped it on and finished dressing.
As he handed me my jewelry I bluntly asked him, “Then what do you think about discipline?”
He perked up, “Actually, quite a lot, madam.”
“I’ve heard, and I won’t say from whom, but that your very good at it.”
“I do have experience.”
“Good. Experience is always reassuring.
“Do you have anything in mind, madam?”
“Well, I was just wondering.”
“We should discuss the matter, then.”
“We are discussing it.”
“Well, then, if I may say, madam, how do you feel?”
“I feel the need to remain steadfast. I despise untidiness and slackness.”
“I agree wholeheartedly.”
“Then we’re in agreement?”
“Of course, madam.”
“Good. I’m long over due.”
I was just about out my door when Thisley said, “I want you to know, madam that I shall always be at your service, always. You will not be disappointed. I am unlike the others. And besides, you utterly intrigue me, if you don’t mind me saying so, madam.”
“I don’t.”
When I returned home later that night, well past two and with a giant engagement ring on my finger, I headed straight to my bedroom and began to undress. No sooner had I slipped off my tank top did I notice my butler off to the side of my bed.
“Good evening, madam.”
“Good evening, Thisley.”
I undressed down to my panties and approached him, “Let’s not waste any time. Spank me.”
My spanking was very hot and thorough. Before he started with me, I had felt it necessary to warn Thisely that I was not only a terrible moaner, but a wicked kicker as well. Smartly, he didn’t warn me how powerful and sure was his hand. Under a hand like his I not only behaved, but I barely was able to put up a struggle. In fact, the only real noise was his hand smacking my firm bottom back and forth with that unmistakable rhythm and force of an expert spanker — the sort of superb spanker who operates with the steady confidence that wilts the woman who is getting ‘it’- and that is saying a lot for an old fashioned OTK spanker.
I was thrilled to get reacquainted with that kind of spanking. I have come to the conclusion that those who fuss about with fancy instruments have never learned the basics. Disagree? Send me a note with instructions, but I doubt you’ll be able to convince me.
And when Thisley finished me with me, I was finished. No whining or begging from me. I was completely exhausted, completely spanked, completely drained of any yearning or longing that a disparate and wayard lapse of time can create. Not only was I a completely and thoroughly spanked girl, but when he told me to get up and stand before him with my fancy panties scrumpled down my ankles for inspection, I assured him that for now on he had my complete permission to spank me whenever he saw fit. And for the past year and the several months that I’ve been married, Thisely has been regularly disciplining me, hot and hard, and nothing less.
My husband, Lesley, approves of this and several times he has sent me in to Thisley to have my bottom seen to. Lesley not only approves of me getting spanked, but is very pleased to hear Thisley’s weekly disciplinary reports. Quite often Lesley thinks I’m not getting it often enough. He believes that Thisley is too soft, which is utter nonsense. Like a silly fool, Lesley wants to hire another butler and train him his way. I said nonsense to that and told him so. I believe he got the message. Haven’t heard a word from him since.
This certainly hasn’t put a strain on our marriage, but the other day Lesley returned home from a run in the park and heard my spanking in the bedroom. He walked in on my spanking and protested that Thisley only gets hotter and harder when he hears him coming. How utterly absurd. I told him to leave the room and run another ten miles. He left in a huff and Thisley continued with my spanking. Still, I adore Lesley, despite some of his ridiculous faults. He hasn’t found fault with me yet, and he better not.
