by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 7
The intensity of the hot noon summer sun only added to my pleasure. I was senseless. Twigs, sod, and an annoying pebble wickedly scratched my bottom, but I didn’t care. The overpowering grip of ecstasy prevailed. I looked into Jamil’s eyes and then at his thrusting cock and cried, ” Oh God, what are you doing to me…..” My relentless repetition of these words may underlie what was obvious, but what was obvious was beside the point.
We were well hidden in a secluded area of Central Park. My clothes were hastily scattered about me; a telltale sign of my desire. I looked into his eyes and cried, “Oh yes, Oh yes, I’m going to come.” I gripped his arms. My face was flushed with sweat and elation.
My whole body suddenly and violently vibrated and trembled, “Now…!” And it was like the heavens had burst open and showered inside of me. I was so magnificent, so heavenly delightful as he shot his hot stuff in me. We held onto our moment as long as we could…..then he pulled out and I licked him clean.
All of Central Park was fragrant with the sweetness of summer’s ripeness. I wiped my mouth and lay back with him.
I reminded, “We were supposed to have lunch.” He laughed, “I guess we never got there.” I told him, “You said you wanted to talk about Roberto before lunch; you didn’t want to ruin our meal.” He said, “You agreed, so we stopped here.” I laughed and said, “You’re naughty, you know that.” He said, “You’ve got amazing tits.”
I playfully hit him. “I came all the way from work. Look what you did to me. I’ll be a mess when I return.” He wanted to know how much time I had left. I looked at his watch and said, “Very little…You never should have told that jerk you fucked me.”
Jamil said, “It slipped.” I looked at him like he was crazy, ” No it didn’t. You bragged you fucked your ‘white bitch’. He defensively said, “I swear to God, I’m sorry. And on Roberto, don’t you worry. He won’t come near you. I’ll take care of him, and so will the rest of the crew, but they gonna have to know what happened.” I thought about it and agreed, ” Just don’t tell them that you fuck me.” He swore, “Won’t have to.” I hoped so.
I reached for my panties and slipped them on. Then I shook out my skirt. Jamil said, “I don’t want you to be afraid to come back to the park, now, you hear?” I said, “I’m here, aren’t I?” He said, “I want you to be free to skate with the rest of us.” I turned and he clasped my bra for me, “I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
We both finished dressing and left our little area. The park was delightfully empty. A park worker in a scooter-van whisked by and glanced at us. The men were mowing and clipping trees. The city had been able to afford this luxury in the 90s. I feared if the economy haltered the first thing they would do is to cut park services. Jamil took my hand and we walked toward Fifth Avenue. I said to him, ” I know about Anne.” He looked at me and played dumb.
He said, ” What do you know?” I told him, ” You’ve been fucking both of us.” I teased him, “It seems you like getting all the pretty white girls.” He laughed and said, ” So she told you.” I said, ” No, she hasn’t, and I won’t tell her. I think it would hurt her.” He asked, “What about you?”
I thought about it and said, ” For her sake I think we should end it.” Jamil didn’t like that. He let go of my hand. I said, “Hey, one Roberto is enough.” He said, ” Life is a bitch, ain’t it?” I told him, “Fucking that lovely blonde Anne should make it a lot better.”
We reached 5th Avenue. I hailed a cab and got in it. Jamil leaned on the window, ” You mean it?” I said, ” You’ve had me twice. Don’t complain.” He said, ” You’re one tough woman.” I laughed, ” If you’re not sure, ask Roberto.” I shut the door and went back to work.
*
I called Carlota into my office. We had a nice chat. I promised her that I had recovered from the incident though it wasn’t something that I’d easily forget. She didn’t mistake my femininity for weakness. I asked her about Taylor whom I was going to meet after work.
Carlota said, ” He’s independently wealthy. Made a killing in the dot.com high and was smart enough to get out early. He must be worth at least a hundred, maybe two hundred million dollars.”
” Then why does he want to be my slave.” She laughed and said, ” He doesn’t know what to do with all his money.”
I asked, ” Do you punish yours?” Carlota said, ” Almost daily. I absolutely own him. He will do whatever I say except drink poison. Taylor wants to serve a woman. You’ll see. He’s very good. Maybe it’s because he’s a recovering Catholic, but if he likes you then you will own him, you will be his Madonna, and he will follow you to the end of the world, which he did for me.”
” So then why did you get rid of him?” She laughed and said, ” I think he got rid of me.” I said, ” I don’t understand?” She looked around my room and said, ” You’re are the A type. I am the Z type. I work because I have to. You’ve been very kind to me by always reminding me of my potential. Taylor will not do one thing. He will not foot the bill. He did it for a while with me, but that turns him off. I think you and he will hit it off. You just may be his type.”
I asked, “What will I have to do for him?” Carlota said, just be in control. Be the boss. Something you know about, and he will fall right in line.” I said, ” He sounds like a lap dog.” Carlota again laughed, ” If you mean will he enjoy being in your presence? He craves it. He will follow and serve you. He wants nothing else in this world. He also love a woman’s body, but he will never make a sexual advance. He needs proximity not intimacy.”
I asked, ” Does he have a family?” She said, “He was married. He has two daughters who are in college.” I asked, “How old is he?” She said, “He’s forty-five, in good health, strong as an ox, and as gentle as a lamb.”
I asked, ” Anything else I should know?” Carlota thought for a moment, ” He loves to touch your clothes, and he can shave a pussy like no one else, that is if you don’t mind.” Carlota and I laughed. She continued, ” He always gave me a full cut with a trim because I naturally have a neat bush. Let him care for all your belongings, run your bath, comb your hair, and clean your house.” I said, ” I already have someone for cleaning.” She said, ” All the better. It’s such a waste for someone with his talent.”
An important call came through and I had to excuse Carlota. As I reached for the phone I had a funny feeling that this new little adventure just might be interesting.
*
Taylor was an intrigue from the first moment I set eyes on him. He stood outside an upscale café, located in the heart of Carnegie Hill — a serene neighborhood of the city — with a little old fashioned leather valise and an umbrella He seemed to have fallen out of a bygone era. He had a sense of mission; the air of purpose and enthusiasm exuberated from him.
He was wearing a three piece gray suit with every button buttoned. His shirt was perfectly starched. His tie was neatly pinched at the knot. He sported a short beard, which he’d soon be getting rid of. His pants were cuffed at one and three quarter inches and had a full break.
He avoided my eyes and made contact only at the end of a question. He glimpsed pieces of me then all of me and when satisfied he returned to his normal gaze with his impression of me safely stored.
We chatted for a moment. I wanted to laugh when he said that was ready to move right in. It seems Carlota’s recommendation was all that was needed on his part. I told him, “I’ll tell you what is needed.”
He profusely apologized for his presumption. He said the misconception was his error. He begged for my forgiveness. I of course commended him for his manners and told him that since I had the utmost respect for Carlota’s recommendation that I would approve of him moving into my household.
He said, “Mistress Carrie, I’ve been ready the moment I arrived.” I gave him my address and told him to enter through the service entrance. I said that I’d have my cook take him to his quarters.
I was exceptionally pleased. I told him, “From now on you will be under my charge. You’ll have the next month to prove yourself. If you do, you will be allowed permanent status within the household and be my personal attendant at all times. You will be allowed to cater to me on a unique and personal basis” He smiled with utter delight and assured me that he would not be remiss. Before I sent him on his way I told him, ” Shave that beard off. The thought of the Taliban makes me sick.”
*
I had one more stop and that was to visit Miss. Maltby. I must say that I never particularly liked the woman. She is a dowdy humorless creature. She thinks the world of herself and reveals this in her tone of voice, which affects a royal murmur. She completes this little act with a nasty habit of tilting her head upward as if her nose is too sensitive to breathe the same air as you
She also has a pompous habit of clenching her hands and sticking out her bosom while she delivers her meaningless little words — impersonating herself is her most treasured activity. One is supposed to be impressed with her display of sophomoric brilliance. She is in fact a total idiot. She has neither the grace, good breeding, nor money, all elements of power and persuasion, to be other than a tolerable nuisance for those who buy into her phony airs, such as her secretary from Queens, Long Island.
Luckily when I arrived at the office Miss Maltby wasn’t there. She had been called back to London. I asked her secretary, “To be beheaded?” She responded with her newly acquired English accent, “I don’t believe they do that anymore.” I replied, “Aren’t you lucky.”
I was taken into see a Mr. Geoffreys. I sat down opposite his desk and waited for him to finish reading something. He looked up and asked, “How is everything with Rodney?”
I said, “Is that what you called me in for? We could have done this over the phone.”
He said, “Actually, I’m holding a report that he filed before leaving on vacation. It seems he’s been quite generous with you.”
I said, “He hasn’t complained to me.” Geoffreys said, “No one is complaining Miss Dupree. We’re merely appraising your situation.” I said, “My situation is fine.” He went through several pages and placed his finger in the middle of one and said, ” You have a habit of resisting.”
I said, “I suppose that is normal.” He mulled over a thought and said, ” In your estimation do you believe that you’re being properly attended?” I asked, ” What does it say in there?” Geoffreys said, “It says many things. We like our butlers to perform their services properly. We believe our clients deserve the best. I’m sure you can understand.” I said, “Not always.” He affected a displeased look.
I said, “I think the whole thing is ridiculous. It should be stopped.” He asked, ” Why? You don’t think you need to be attended?” I said, “Of course not.” He said, “But you know that if he sees fit that he must.” I said, “Of course I know that. I don’t expect less.” Geoffreys mused, “When were you last attended?”
I said, “About a week ago. Right before he left.” He said, “Then you might be needing a session, wouldn’t you say so?” I said, “Absolutely not.” He said, “According to your schedule you’re due for one. That’s why I had you called in. We cannot be slack with our obligations. Certainly you wouldn’t want us to suddenly not serve our clients properly? ” I sort of shrugged and agreed, “Of course not.”
But I had to be firm with him, ” You know that I don’t like this whole thing. I think it is stupid.” He merely nodded his head and asked, ” Are you telling me that Rodney has not been performing his duties? That would be detrimental to our reputation.” I said, “No. I’m just telling you that I’m a girl who doesn’t need to be attended, not that Rodney has not been fulfilling the obligations that concern me. In fact, he has been fulfilling them quite well.”
He continued mulling over my report and said, “Good, we have a room in the back to service our ladies when their butlers are away. It’s all part of the contract and it helps us insure our high standards. Miss Maltby had been meaning to attend to you, but of course she had to return to London….There’s no hidden fee concerning the backroom, if you’re worried about that.”
I said, “You know money is not an object with me.” He said, “Of course not, I didn’t mean it that way. I do apologize.” I looked through the rear door of his office which led to the back. Geoffreys pointed for me, “It’s right over there.” He noticed something in the report, “It’s been a week. I don’t see how you’ve managed.” I admitted, “It’s technically true that I’m over due for one.” He said, “It’s all here in the report.” I asked, “Are there spare butlers that perform the service?”
He assured me that since I was a very distinguished client of the agency that either he or Ms. Maltby would personally attend to me. I thanked him and said, “I suppose if I go in there with you it would fulfill our contractual obligations, and you needn’t have to call for me afterwards.” He nodded ambiguously, but I took that it that he wouldn’t.
I peered into the rather stark room behind his office, “I will have to undress.” Geoffrey’s said, “We’re specifically trained to be quite sensitive to a lady’s modesty.” I said, “It’s just that I happened to be extremely good looking and I find it would find be unbecoming to have an untrained employee gloat over me.”
Geoffreys assured me there was nothing to fear. He flipped a page of my report back and said, “It says that you rather shift about. Is that a misprint?” I said, “It could be.” He said, “You are also quite verbal.” I said, “A possible misprint as well.” He said, “Oh, we’re used to that around here, not the misprints. I see you prefer to be silenced.” I said, “It’s not that I prefer anything, Mr. Geoffreys, but a panty will do.”
He said “It also says that you are a thruster.” He then closed the report, which had an official, I thought maybe royal, seal on it, and said, “I think we shall have no problem.” He then got up and stood by the door to the back room and said, “After you, Miss Dupree.” I got up and asked, “Is this absolutely necessary?” Geoffreys assured me it was.
I felt a little chill swell over me, then I went through the door and entered the back room. He drew the shade over the window, and the room suddenly muted into a cold and drab place. He told me, “I think you know the procedure.”
I slowly removed my Armani suit coat. I had to fold it over a chair. He said hanging up items was not allowed in this room. I slowly unbuttoned my silk blouse. When I removed it his eyes feasted on my quarter cup bra. My good firm tits hung boldly for him. His chilly gaze followed my fingers as I unzipped my skirt and removed it. I didn’t like him looking at me, but I was obligated not to deviate from procedure.
I slipped off my fancy lacy garter and dropped to the floor. He told me the stocking as well must come off. I dutifully removed them. I could see he was a stickler for details and proper etiquette. I tried to be sharp about my undressing, but his guiding gaze was quite alert to any improper implementations of the procedure.
I slipped off my stockings. I stood erect and proper for him. My good tight tush suddenly was full of goose bumps. My sheer panty revealed my bush and its desirably. I felt vulnerable and on display for him.
He wasted no time. He said, “Over there Miss Dupree.” I was to lie on a table with my arms straight out and my bottom at the edge. He took my wrists and attached them to discrete chains that hung from the wall. He told me they were necessary since the report mentioned that I had a habit of resisting.
He assured me, “They’re nice and snug and will hold you firmly. It is merely to stabilize you, that’s all. Your bottom then can be attended to without much fuss.” I reached over the table and waited for him to chain my wrists. When he finished, I arched my bottom up and found that he was quite correct. Movement was severely restricted.
Then I felt chains secure my ankles. I didn’t say a word for fear of angering him, but I was mortified. He next undid my bra and put his hands under my good breasts and felt them thoroughly with his fingers; he enjoyed them I suppose. He slipped a hand into my little panty and felt my perky fleshy bottom for as long as he wanted.
Then he attached two nipple clamps. I let out a cry, “Ohhhhhh.” “Shut up!” I was immediately smacked on my bottom. He then took my hair into his fist, tugged my head back and smacked my bottom good and hard with the back of his hand. I let out a wild cry. “Shut up, Ms. Dupree.”
He hit me again. He said, “You’ll be spanked until you shut up.” He tightened the nipple clamps. Again I yelled, “Ouwwww!” He smacked me hard. Then I felt a mechanical winch turn. The tabled tilted. My legs now were high in the air. My hair fell over my head. My bottom was now at his shoulder height.
He stuffed my panty into my mouth and began to whip my hot little bottom with the severity I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut. But it was to no avail. My panty slipped out of my mouth. I begged for him to stuff it back in, but he said, “You will learn to be spanked and be quiet Ms. Dupree; no more of Rodney’s easy going.”
He hit me hot and fast across my bottom. I cried and screamed and begged like a little girl. The noise was so loud that I could no longer hear him tell me to shut up. Instead, my hot bottom twitched and jounced under his wicked hand as he smacked my cheeks back and forth with efficient regularity. All I could do was cry, “Oooooh! Ohhhhh. Oooooh! – as my body jerked forward after each hard hit.
And when he thought I wasn’t getting enough he would rest his hand and hit me hot with his wooden paddle. I tugged and yanked the chains as my bottom rocked up and down after each hit. He had me spanked they way I needed, and there was nothing I could do, except continue to cry and scream like a loud noisy girl.
When he was done with me he left me on the table to commiserate. A butler in training soon entered and lowered the table and freed my ankles and wrists. I thought he was going to help me dress. Instead, he took me over his knees so I could kick and scream some more. He thoroughly enjoyed me more than I wished.
The worst part was walking out of the agency. I knew everyone was staring at me. They all got to hear my spanking, especially that ignorant secretary, who gloated as I passed her desk. I kept my head up high and avoided the stares of the others as I walked down the corridor of desks. As fancy and as rich as I dress, I couldn’t hide my spanked walk. Although some think it is sexy, I only hoped no one else would be able to tell when I hit the streets.
I left the building and was greeted by a bright sunny day and a cool breeze. I noticed another well-to-do lady enter the building. We politely smiled at each other and revealed little of what we were really thinking. I walked my spanked bottom into the street and blended with the lunchtime crowd.
