A Lesson For Maid Minnie 1920 x 1080 Version

A Lesson For Maid Minnie - Part one of the feature length video The Flesh and The Fantasy Featuring Minnie Ford as the Maid, Klaus Minder as the Husband, with Karen Swain, Maggie Jones, Laurence Piper as Ben Meltrain and Ray Bradbury It was towards the end of a thoroughly satisfying dinner. The brandy decanter was now being passed around the table with leisurely ease. The five guests would have been perfectly content to sit back, relax, and enjoy the warmth of the fire and the glow of good wine. But the sixth member of the party made that impossible. Their host, Ben Meltrain, as always commanded the centre of attention. Unfortunately, he was also monumentally boring. As his voice droned on, minds began to wander. Eyes met across the candlelit table in silent, shared exasperation. It was then that Klaus’s gaze settled firmly on Minnie. My God, he thought, what wouldn’t I give… Some time later the room was quiet, empty now except for Klaus, who sat alone finishing his brandy. The soft click of the door announced the arrival of the petite French maid as she entered to clear the table. Klaus looked up at her. “There is no need to do that right now,” he said calmly. “Bring me some more coffee.” Minnie nodded obediently and returned a few moments later with a fresh cup. She presented it to her master with both hands. Klaus raised it to his lips, took a sip, and immediately his face darkened with displeasure. “My God, girl! Is it impossible for you to do anything right?” His voice was low but sharp. “You’ve put sugar in it again. This is the third time this week. You do it on purpose, don’t you?” “I wouldn’t say that, Sir,” Minnie replied, her voice small. “I just… forgot.” “Well, you know what happened the last time you forgot, don’t you?” Minnie nervously nodded, her cheeks already beginning to flush. Klaus pointed toward the tall oak bookcase that dominated one wall of the dining room. “Get it. At once.” Minnie crossed the room without hesitation. She opened the glass door, reached inside, and carefully withdrew the long, cruel-looking martinet. The dozen stiff leather tails hung ominously from the polished wooden handle. She returned and stood before him, eyes lowered, holding the implement out with both hands. Klaus took the martinet from her and flexed it thoughtfully. “Over the chair,” he ordered. “Immediately.” Minnie’s breath caught. Without a word she turned, lifted the hem of her short black uniform dress, and tucked it neatly into the waistband, exposing her frilly white knickers. She bent forward over the high-backed dining chair, gripping the far edge tightly. Her petite bottom, already quivering slightly in anticipation, was now perfectly presented. Klaus stood and moved behind her. He ran his hand slowly over the taut fabric of her knickers, then hooked his fingers into the waistband and drew them down to her knees in one smooth motion. Minnie’s bare bottom glowed pale and vulnerable under the soft lighting. “You will receive twelve strokes,” he announced coldly. “And you will count each one aloud. If you lose count or fail to thank me after each stroke, we shall begin again. Understood?” “Yes, Sir,” Minnie whispered, her voice trembling. The first stroke landed with a sharp, resounding thwack. The leather tails bit across both cheeks, leaving a bright red fan of stripes. Minnie gasped sharply. “One… Thank you, Sir.” The martinet rose and fell again, harder this time. A second burst of fire spread across her bottom. “Two… Thank you, Sir.” By the sixth stroke Minnie was squirming, her knuckles white on the edge of the chair, soft cries escaping her lips with each impact. Her once-pale bottom was now a vivid pattern of criss-crossing red lines. “Six… Ahh! Thank you, Sir.” Klaus paused, letting the burning sensation sink in. He traced the welts with his fingertips, making her flinch. “You are making an excellent job of marking that pretty little bottom tonight,” he murmured. “Perhaps this will help you remember how I take my coffee.” The final six strokes were delivered with measured severity. Each one drew a louder cry from Minnie as the martinet painted fresh stripes over already tender flesh. By the twelfth stroke her bottom was a blazing, throbbing masterpiece of discipline, and tears glistened on her cheeks. “Twelve… Thank you, Sir,” she sobbed. Klaus laid the martinet on the table and rested his hand on her burning cheeks for a moment. Then he spoke again, his voice calm but firm. “This has been a good start, but I believe a more lasting reminder is required. Fetch the cane.” Minnie’s stomach tightened. She rose unsteadily, knickers still tangled around her knees, and returned to the bookcase. From the back she selected a slender, whippy rattan cane, about three feet long, with a smooth, varnished surface that gleamed under the light. She presented it to Klaus with trembling hands. “Back over the chair,” he ordered. “Higher this time. I want that bottom well presented.” Minnie bent deeply ove...