Country houses often form the settings for my little fantasies.
Take the daughter of the house, being caught by her father in her bedroom with one of the maids on a lazy summer-holiday afternoon. Without wishing to sound like a twisted Mills & Boon plot: “They knew it was wrong, but finally they could no longer resist. Their eyes met; they kissed; their hands wandered…”
The butler would be called; the servant would be taken away to be birched, with the young lady made to observe proceedings. Her own birching would follow, in private, but harder – for, after all: “You should know better…”
Wanted: country house. Birch grove. Two girls. Butler.
Love this x
(Although in my fantasy, it’s not so much wandering hands as wandering tongues…) x
Hmm. I’d like to play one of those girls! Very hot.
You know, I did play a butler once in a play in college…