The Life of a Domestic Servant Part 2

[lisamum10]

The life of a domestic servant Part 2
After the children returned to school, life became a little easier although I was still kept busy. Mrs Tyson was very strict about routine and I learned this very early on to my cost. My first duty each morning was to prepare breakfast for Mr Tyson at precisely eight o’clock. Once that was done, I then had to take a cup of tea up to Mrs Tyson, who was still in bed. This particular morning I was late with her tea; I had stopped to read an article in the morning paper and forgot the time.
I took up the tray and entered her bedroom to find her sitting up in bed.
“What time do I have my tea Adams?” she asked as I approached her bed and put the tray down on a bedside cabinet.
“Eight o’clock Madam,” I replied.
“And what time is it now?”
“Five past eight Madam,” I replied.
It was like being interrogated by a teacher.
“How many minutes late is that?”
“Five madam.”
“I told you when you first came here that I expect complete obedience and everything done exactly as I instruct you.”
“Yes Madam, I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again.” I grovelled, although I knew I was in trouble and would be punished, but I didn’t know how.
“Bring me my hairbrush from my dressing room.” She ordered.
I knew it wasn’t for her to brush her hair. Suddenly my mind went back to the dormitory at the orphanage and those spankings from matron.
I fetched the brush and handed it to her.
“I shall punish you by giving you five smacks with the hairbrush. Pull up your dress and lay across the bed,” she ordered patting the bed where I should lay, which was across her lap.
It took a moment for her instruction to sink in.
“Do you understand English girl?” she snapped.
“Oh, yes Madam.” I replied hastily pulling up my dress and getting myself over her lap.
I was duly given five smacks with the hairbrush, which didn’t exactly hurt with the protection of cotton knickers and my rubber girdle. For the first time I was grateful for this uncomfortable contraption.
“Now bring me a fresh cup of tea, that one will be cold by now.”
“Yes Madam.”
I took the tray back downstairs and brought her a fresh one. Then I ran her bath and laid out her clothes. Then I retreated downstairs to cook her breakfast while she got dressed.
After she had finished her breakfast she announced that she was going to the station to catch the train to London to go shopping. I was given my orders for the day and was then left to myself.
At three thirty, Mrs Faraday, the cook arrived. We already had got into the routine of sitting and having a chat over a cup of tea before she started preparing the evening meal.
“I got my first punishment this morning,” I said to her.
“I’m surprised that you’ve gone this long without it,” she replied.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“All the maids she’s had since I’ve been here have been spanked within a couple of days.”
“Gosh, I have been good haven’t I?”
“You have,” laughed Mrs Faraday.
“Did she spank them very often?”
“She did. Between you and me I think she enjoys it.” Said Mrs Faraday
“What do you mean?” I asked. My fourteen-year-old naivety was now coming into play. I had never heard of anyone enjoying smacking other people.
“You know nothing of the world young Elsie, you’re too young, but there are people around who like to be smacked and caned and enjoy caning and smacking others.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing, but later when I had time to think about it I did notice a feeling of excitement in Mrs Tyson when she smacked me.
Over the next few days, I kept thinking about what Mrs Faraday had said and kept asking myself why people would actually want to enjoy being hurt. I had the cane at school and it was very painful and the hairbrush and belt at the orphanage and there was no way that I got any pleasure from it. I determined that the first time that I would get the cane from Mrs Tyson I would watch to see if she showed any sign of excitement. I was so determined that Mrs Tyson would have no excuse for caning me that it was some time before it did eventually happen.
I had prepared lunch for Mrs Tyson and I was late bringing it in.
“Adams, the lunch is late; you will be punished.”
My heart sank. I had tried so hard keep out of trouble. After I had served coffee, I was told to go and wait outside the study. I waited for what seemed an age before I saw her approaching down the corridor. I could feel my heart thumping and my hands were sweating. Mrs Tyson opened the door and went in. It was just as bad as waiting outside the headmistress’s office at school.
“Come in,” she ordered.
I stepped inside and quickly looked around. It was just as I imagined, with bookcases, a large desk and two sumptuous leather armchairs. This was the one room that I was not told to clean for some reason.
“You have failed in your duty Adams and I therefore have no alternative but to cane you.”
“Yes madam, I’m sorry.”
She gave a strange sort of smile, turned to a cupboard and took out one of two canes. As she came round the desk I instinctively held out my hand as I did at school.
“Don’t be silly Adams; the proper place to be caned is on your bottom. Bend over the arm of that chair,” she said, pointing to the chair with the cane.
I went to the chair, leaned over the arm with my hands on the other arm. I felt Mrs Tyson pull up my dress and underslip.
“You will receive three strokes,” she informed me in a cold abrupt voice.
By know my stomach was churning. Surely this can’t be worse than the strap at the orphanage, I thought. Suddenly to my utter relief I remembered I was wearing my rubber girdle, surely this would protect my vulnerable little bottom.
Thwaacckk!!
The impact of the cane brought me to my senses. But it didn’t hurt!
Thwaacckk!!
The cane across my knickers and girdle certainly made a lot of noise but only the minimum of pain.
Thwaacckk!!
It was all over.
“Stand up,” ordered Mrs Tyson.
I dutifully eased myself up and stood with hands clasped together in front of me. Mrs Tyson replaced the cane and turned to face me.
“Well Adams, I hope that you will consider yourself suitably punished.”
“Yes Madam, thank you. I’ll try harder in future.”
“I hope you will, now return to your duties.”
“Yes Madam.”
I left the study and made my way to the kitchen with a feeling of relief but also of puzzlement. Surely she must realise that I could hardly feel it; it wasn’t a punishment at all. All I could think was that perhaps she did enjoy caning people but didn’t want to hurt them. If this was to be the kind of punishment I was going to get I wasn’t unduly worried. I mentioned the fact to Mrs Faraday when we sat down for our cup of tea.
“I got the cane today,” I announced.
“Oh, she got you at last did she?”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“I was late with her lunch.”
“Naughty girl,” laughed Mrs Faraday.
“The funny thing is it didn’t hurt.”
“Didn’t hurt,” exclaimed Mrs Faraday. “How come?”
“I was wearing my rubber girdle; it’s the first time I’ve enjoyed wearing it.”
“You mean she didn’t tell you to take it off?”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t know! All the maids before you were never allowed to keep theirs on.”
“Gosh, she must like me after all,” I exclaimed.
“She must indeed, but I should be careful, next time she might not be so generous,” warned Mrs Faraday.
Over the months leading up to Christmas I was very very careful to be diligent in my duties in case Mrs Faraday was right but I needn’t have worried. I was caned four times in all but at no time was I instructed to remove my girdle. With the threat of pain from the cane removed, I actually started to relax and found myself actually enjoying my time with the Tyson’s. Mr Tyson was always very civil towards me and at no time made me feel like a servant. On my days off I would mostly meet up with two friends from the orphanage who had left just after me. They had what they called ‘a proper job’ and earned more money than I did, but I didn’t mind. I had the security of a home and food and I was happy. I had my own room and independence on my time off. Mrs Tyson never bothered me outside my work time. I never mentioned the canings to my friends as I would have felt so embarrassed.