by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 45
I told the cabby to slow down when we reached Little John’s. “You wanna go somewhere else?” “No, just pull to the side and wait.” There was another cab stopping up ahead. I thought the person in the back seat looked more than familiar. Kendall hopped out of the cab and entered the 1890s vestibule. It seemed our little luncheon hadn’t revealed everything.
Her finger tapped the row of names until she found the one she wanted. It was obvious this was her first time there. In a moment she disappeared through the door. My driver said, “Where you wanna go now?” I thought about that for a second, “Take me back uptown.” I had a little secret that I planned on taking with me.
But as soon as I returned home I found Thisley waiting for me in my bedroom; I was going to get spanked. I was furious and I told him that I didn’t want one. Most embarrassing was that the butler’s agency had sent a rep to take notes; something that is company policy and hidden somewhere deep in the contract. She was sitting there in a stiff straight back chair with a clipboard. She was about as friendly looking as a potato with eyeballs and hair.
I knew why I was going to be spanked. It was always for the same reason. I’d been saucy to someone in the household. Well, too bad. I like being saucy. And I plan on being saucy. Nevertheless, I sulked as I undressed and tugged down my hot little panties. I even leered at the rep to let her know how I felt even though it always gets me nowhere. I undid my bra and tossed it. The rep stared at my lovely ripe breasts. I knew she was jealous that such a thin girl like me could have such loveliness. She’s one of those jealous flat chested nasty washboards who is ugly and hates the world, and is only happy when other people who are beautiful suffer. But most embarrassing is the way Lesley treats her like a dear old aunt, but then he doesn’t understand women; I mean, what man really does?
Moments later I was leaning over my spanking bar (as much as I could in my present condition). My flimsy satin laced white panties were bunched down to my ankles over my black pumps and my lovely pert bottom was in proper spanking position.
I heard the rep tell Thisley to give it to me extra hot, “She needs to learn how to be a proper lady, not act like some slut.” When she saw my branding for the first time she covered her face and cried, “Goodness gracious! Thisley told her, “You needn’t worry. Madam shall be taught a proper lesson this afternoon, one I’m sure she won’t forget.”
I feared that and gripped the lower part of my spanking bar. Then it began. I shut my eyes and whimpered as I got my first smack. I let out a whiney oozing Ouwww; it was stinging hot. I complained, but Thisley would have none of my whining, especially with the rep smarting at his side. Then he smacked my bottom rapidly for God knows how many times, each slap stinging hotter than the last. His heavy hand swooped back and forth across my pretty bare bottom shifting the soft flesh as if it were a sheet fluttering in the wind. I begged and cried, “Thisley, Stop spanking me. Please STOP spanking me”. Streams of tears soon poured down my cheeks. My head tossed and I howled worse than a new born baby as he spanked me hotter. The damn rep kept on encouraging him: “Excellent, Thisley, most excellent. Give it to her good and hot…” She seemed hotter than I as she lifted off her chair.
I tried to keep still as I got it red hot and hard. My bottom swayed and I threw my head back and forth as I cried. I thought maybe Thisley would be fair and stuff me with my panties to shut me up, but he wouldn’t. The rep , in her excitement, cried, “Let me stuff her, Please let me stuff that slut.” But Thisley wouldn’t allow it. The whole house heard my spanking: the maid ironing, the cook preparing dinner, everyone.
And then the worst of it came when he let Miss Potato Head spank me. I protested and cried, but he held me firmly for her as I tried to scratch my way out of his embrace. She was hot and fast with me as she called me wanton slut and whore and all sorts of demeaning names. She was absolutely wicked and merciless. She spanked me so hot that my heels danced up in the air. “You dirty little hot slut. Always thinking of fucking. You can’t fool me. I know women like you. Respectable on the avenue, but hot sluts in the bushes. Don’t think I don’t know!” I cried and howled as she spanked me hotter. It was cruel and exhausting and unrelenting, but she whipped me good and she knew it, too.
When she was done with me I was told to go stand in the corner. I hated hobbling over there with my panties still around my ankles, but I was obedient and did what I was told. It was a long half hour before she game me permission to resume normalcy. It was the phone that really saved me. Lesley and I chatted for a moment, but he had to take another call and said he’d meet me out at the beach. Then Little John called. I wasn’t expecting that. He said in that cool direct manner of his, “What happened?” I tried to sit down on my bed, but my bottom was still too hot and I screeched.
“You just got spanked, didn’t you?” I said, “Yes.” I heard a little smug laugh, which I didn’t like one bit. “Are you panties still down?” “No.”
“So, what happened, beautiful? You didn’t show up?”
I told him, “Three’s a crowd.”
His reply, “Three I agree.”
“I happen to be busy at the moment.”
“I can wait.”
I said, “That’s so nice of you.”
“I know you’ll be back.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re a slut.”
I handed it right back to him, “I know I’m a slut. I don’t need you to tell me.”
“Maybe you can tell me who’s slut are you now.”
I decided to play with him, ” I met another black guy”
“Is that so?” I detected just enough jealousy. “Where?”
“Fire Island.”
“You’ve had his cock?”
“Uhm, not yet.”
“Why? ‘Cause you is married?”
“No.”
Little John waited then said, “You going there this weekend?”
“Yes.”
“This dude gonna be there?”
I said, “I don’t know. Sometimes he is. Sometimes he isn’t.”
“I bet he don’t know you want him.”
“No. He doesn’t.”
“But you been thinking about him.”
“Yeah, I have.”
“What about Lesley?”
“He knows I’m a slut.”
Little John sounded surprised, “Really….? Uhh? He’s into it? You being a slut?”
” He is.”
Little John was surprised. He had other expectations. “You knew that he was into when you first met him?”
“I had no idea what he knew. It wasn’t until six months after we got married that he had a business partner over one night from overseas. The man was very interested in me and Lesley noticed. Like that he said, “Do you want her?” They guy suddenly lit up and said, “Sure.” Lesley offered me up, “She’s yours.”
“And you fucked him?”
“What do you think, Little John?”
“How did your husband know that you would do it?”
“He got whiff of things when he saw the tattoo on my bottom. At first it bugged him, then he couldn’t stop staring at it every time I undressed. He said it made me special because it was so contrary to everything about me being a rich Park Avenue girl.”
“That was the first time?”
“Yes, Little John. That was the first time. Since then I’ve been handed over several times. I have to go now. Call again sometime.”
Somehow I felt I got revenge, the mental kind that is. Sure I had thoughts of kicking him in the nuts because of Kendall, but this was even better, polluting his mind with thoughts that would bug him: someone else whoring me instead of him. There’s nothing worse a pimp hates. Then Lesley called, “You haven’t left yet?”
I said, “No, but I’m on my way.”
“Good. I want you to give a client of mine a lift out to the beach. Have Thisley pick him up. I’ll see you Sunday, hopefully.”
“Who is this client?”
“He’s with Grovsner and Company. Sleep with him tonight.”
“Whatever you say.” I hung up and got ready to leave.
