Britain 2028: Part Five Laura's Domestic Duties

 The alarms sounds. It is 5:30 am. Reginald is an early riser and he expects his girl to be the same. Laura rubs her eyes. She has slept badly. She hears the sound of heavy footsteps on the landing and then that of the key turning in the lock. He turns on the light. He is wearing a dressing gown and pyjama. Laura still wears the black negligee. She is now introduced to the ritual which will become a familiar over the next few days. First she must prepare and serve him a full English breakfast. His toast must be the exact shade and the tea must be exactly the right strength. Failure in either of these particulars will earn her an immediate spanking. His eggs have to also be exactly the right consistency: neither too hard nor too runny and the bacon must be crispy but not burned. Fortunately, this first morning he seems satisfied.

She kneels beside him while he eats his meal. She is still wearing the fetching lingerie but for the moment he seems more concerned with the morning paper. It is full of official propaganda: half recounts the achievements of the regime; the other half regales a grateful populace with the horrors of less enlightened nations where feminists and liberals hold sway. Reg frowns as he reads this. He feels happy that he lives in a country governed along common sense lines, no more so now than when he glances down at the pretty young thing kneeling obediently at his side.

Once Reg has finished, Laura must clear and wash up the plates. As with everything else this must meet his very exacting standards or, once again, it will be a spanking for her. A suspicious mind would think he was looking for excuses to slap her arse. Today though he is keen to introduce her to the next part of her training.

She is famished. The only thing she has been permitted to eat is some dry bread and a glass of lukewarm tap water with which she must also swallow her daily pink pill. Eating, she has been told, is a privilege which must be earned by good behaviour. Besides, as he has also told her, she is on the large side and while a little chubbiness is appealing in a girl, it can easily turn to fat. It is for that reason that Reg also insists upon another important aspect of her daily ritual: a strict exercise regime. For this, he has provided her with a pair of skin tight lycra shorts and a very tight t-shirt. She is not allowed to wear a bra.

Although Reg himself looks like a stranger to physical activity he has very clear ideas on the exercises she requires. She must first run on the spot. Every so often he tells her to drop and do ten push ups. Then she must run again. The lack of a bra means that her tits bounce uncomfortably. Although she is in reasonably good condition she is quickly out of breath.This clearly displeases him and earns her several strokes on the legs with his riding crop.

“I don’t think the t-shirt isn’t helping. Take it off!” he orders

She removes the t-shirt. Sweat glistens all over her body.

He now tells her to do burpees.

Her big breasts sway pendulously, as she does so. She is close to exhaustion.

As she does the star jump her boobs bounce up and come slapping down. This is obviously a source of both discomfort and embarrassment to her but he clearly does not care as he angrily urges her on.

“Put that fat arse into it bitch. You’re not even trying.” he yells like a drill instructor.

The tight lycra shorts are the next to come off. This allows him unimpeded access to her bare bottom and thighs: an opportunity he takes up with eagerness. He lashes them again and again with the crop. Her bottom, still sore from the evening’s punishment stings.

She flinches each time the crop comes close but it is not possible to avoid it.

Her bottom and thighs are now crisscrossed with angry red stripes.

He then makes her do a series of yoga poses which seem to only have one purpose which is to display her naked body in the most humiliating way possible. Once again he takes every opportunity to correct her using this as an excuse to maul and grope her lovely young body.

Finally, he puts a towel down on the ground, instructs her to lay face upon it and then proceeds to fuck her. As he does so, he stares intently into her eyes, something which only enhances the sense of violation. She attempts to close her eyes but this provokes a slap to her face. She must endure his look half-desire, half anger, as he relentlessly pounds away at her cunt. The look on his ageing face as he comes is something no attractive young woman fantasises about seeing.

She must wait for him to take his bath then she is allowed to shower, once again in icy cold water.

After he has towelled her down he says:

“I am not at all impressed with your performance this morning. I clearly have my work cut out. I think you need something to make you perk your ideas up a bit.”

She guesses he is referring to the cane. She is terrified at the prospect.

“Please sir not the cane.”

Then she makes a move which would be ill judged at the best of times but even more so now when he is clearly satiated.

“Can’t we, you know…..”

As she says that she presses her naked body against him suggestively. Her hand brushes the front of his trousers.

He pushes her away angrily

“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, to spend your whole day on your back. Well you idle little slut you are not here for your selfish pleasure. You are here to serve me”

As he says this he opens the bathroom cupboard. He takes out a small metallic comb, a pair of nail scissors and a tube of some sort of ointment.

Laura stares in terror at the nail scissors. Does he really intend to? No, it can’t be possible. Surely not.

It is almost with a sense of relief that she feels the comb tugging at her pubic hair. This relief quickly turns to distress as the comb gets tangled up in her pubes and he roughly pulls it through them. Then she feels the cold metal of the scissors. He is clipping away the pubic hair on her labia and around her clit. Every now and again the scissors come a little too close for comfort and she winces.

Then the bathroom fills with a strong scent of menthol and aniseed. The ointment is the sort one uses for soft tissue injuries. It is normally meant to relieve pain and used in the right way it does. But Reg has an altogether different purpose in mind. He smears the cream onto his fingers and proceeds to apply it to the lips of her cunt. At first it isn’t too bad. It is almost pleasantly warm but then the heat grows. Laura presses her thighs together in a desperate attempt to escape the burning sensation. Her pretty face is screwed up in obvious agony.

“Noooo. Owooo, please make it stop. It hurts...”

She stamps her feet up and down on the ground but this only seems to make matters worse.

To add to her misery he now smears the cream on her nipples. They are not quite as sensitive as her cunt lips but it still stings like made. Her whole body is wracked with pain.

He looks pleased at her suffering. There are so many women in his life that he has fantasised about hurting. Poor Laura must now stand in for them all.

Her unhappiness does not deter Reg from continuing with what he has planned. With her cunt and tits still feeling like they are on fire, Laura must now put on the outfit he has prepared for her. It is an old fashioned French Maid’s outfit which barely reaches the tops of her thighs. He has provided her with neither knickers or a bra but hs has for some reason supplied her with hold up fishnet stockings and black high heels. The outfit is very impractical for the sort of chores he has planned but this seems intentional on his part.

Dressed in the ridiculous outfit Laura now must attend to Reg’s filthy house. It is obviously a long time since it has received any kind of domestic attention and Laura struggles to complete the assigned tasks within his implausibly strict timeframe.

In the living room, over the arm of the sofa, Laura’s skirt is yanked up over her hips. Her chubby thighs spill over the tops of the fishnets a little. Her big round bottom is bared. It still shows the evidence of last night’s beating and the attentions of his riding crop today. The pouting lips of her pussy also seem redder than normal, obviously the result of the linament.

His left hand rests on the small of her back. In his right is a thick rattan cane. He whips it through the air a few times for effect. Each sound causes the girl to flinch nervously. He pushed her roughly back into position. A few practice taps to measure his aim and then…..