Chapter 1 - Alison

 

"Rafael, bend over the settee, when I say I want my dinner now I want it served immediately," Alison shouted at him.

Alison was not averse to getting physical with her staff, and took her belt off and began to use it on his bare arse, giving him a dozen strokes of her belt, to his cries of pain.

"Sorry Miss, but the chef is on a break, and said that he would prepare it as soon as his break was over," he wailed.

"He did, did he," she said and picked up the phone, "Daddy, this new chef is impossible, he has no idea of the food I eat. I want you to sack him, and find me a chef that can at least cook," she said, "Yes, I agree, but my servant of a year now is beginning to do as I want, at last, so you see I can keep staff, daddy. I just need them to be good at their jobs, you don't keep employing a staff member who is incompetent; do you?" She asked cooing down the phone line to her dad.

All the staff knew what a spoilt brat she was, demanding and nasty, the chef had been with them a month and just because he wanted to finish a ten minute break before cooking her evening meal, a break he was entitled to, she had him sacked. Rafael had dropped a glass when he first arrived, and he begged her not to have him sacked, she agreed on condition he took two dozen strokes of her belt on his bare arse. Desperate to keep the job he agreed and now he had become her whipping boy, when frustrated, she took her frustrations out on him, in many ways.

Sexually frustrated she would make him lie down, and sit on his face, his tongue up her cunt bringing her to the boil and wriggling. On and on he probed her, until he felt that short jet of juices onto his face, as she squirted. He was after all, only a servant, so intercourse was out of the question, but she was quite happy to use his tongue to satisfy, her needs. He saw nothing as he probed her, she always wore a full skirt so that he saw nothing; just his tongue was to be used licking her. On the other hand he was by now used to her seeing him naked, apart from when she spanked him, she also mocked him and abused him, making fun of him, unjustly.

Jobs were hard to come by, and being of ethnic origin Rafael accepted far more humiliation than most people, would do. She would take him shopping with her and so that she could see what it looked like he would have to put the garment on. And it didn't matter what the garment was, if she wanted to see it being worn he was told to put it on from panties, to bras, dresses, to skirts and blouses. It was her way of having fun, at his expense, she rarely bought the garment, and she always bought her clothes from a dress maker, a fashion designer. Rafael had come to the conclusion long ago that it was just her way of mocking him, and belittling him.

Daddy was a shipping magnet, and wealthy business man, her monthly allowance was ten times the average wage for a family, and that was just her spending money, her clothes accommodation and food were provided by her father, who doted on her.

Two days later a new chef entered her apartments, he curtseyed to her.

"Hum, can you cook; I mean fresh food from scratch? I will not eat processed food," She asked him.

"Yes, Ma'am, I have worked in five star restaurants where we prepared all fresh food for our customers," he replied.

"Do you have a big cock?" She asked embarrassing him.

"I-I am looking for employment as a chef, what has my genitals got to do with the job?" He asked taken aback at the question.

"Call it my casting couch, do you want the job if so answer the question?" She demanded.

"I would like the job, but not that much, Ma'am, thank you," he said and turned to leave.

"Rafael send the next one in, he is not up to my standard," she said callously.

As the first interviewee left, the next one entered and walked up to her sat on her chair regally, there was no seat for the applicant.

He stood facing her and bowed his head to her.

"Drop your trousers," she ordered him.

"I-I thought this was for the chefs job?" He asked, but timidly.

"It is but I want an obedient chef, not a belligerent one, so you do as I say, now drop them, or fuck off," she ordered him, and picked up the glass next to her and took a sip casually whilst he, desperate for the job, did as ordered

This applicant was the bread winner for his family, his father was dead, and he was the oldest child and now out of work; his last place going out of business, so he needed the job desperately, and stood before her, his trousers around his ankles

"Hum, not bad, can you cook?" she asked, he bent down to pull his trousers up, "I asked you a question, I did not give you permission to pull your trousers up," she said forcefully.

"Oh," he said letting go of his trousers and standing erect, "I have all the qualifications you asked for, and I passed with a first class pass. I have worked for the last two years in probably the best restaurant in Tunisia, The Golden Palace, which as you may know was closed by the police for some irregularity, nothing to do with me or the kitchen, so yes I can cook and I prefer to cook with fresh products," he said.

"Hum, lift your top up so that I can see the equipment properly," she told him, he did going red, embarrassed by her request.

She just sat there gazing at his dick for a moment, her hand to her chin as if in thought.

"I need an obedient servant, who does as told and if it is wrong then they accept the punishment, I prefer to educate my staff personally, so if I employ them they accept that they will go home with a sore backside, if they do not get it right. Do you agree to allow me to use my cane on your bare arse, should you fail?" She asked him.

"Erm, well, I-I, do I have to?" He asked.

"That all depends on whether or not you want the job," she told him.

"So if I agree then I get the job?" He asked.

"I did not say that, but if you don't, then you will not get the job, now enough messing about. Do you agree or not? I have seen it now so that will not be a problem, will it?" She asked him.

"No, I guess not, but you seriously want to use a cane, on me?" He asked still shocked at the request.

"If I so decide yes, now agree or piss off," she demanded.

"OK, OK, I agree," he said reluctantly.

"Good, now make me a sandwich I am hungry," she demanded.

Rafael led him to the kitchen and showed him around a little, he knew all too well the cost of taking longer than she felt necessary. The sandwich made Rafael took it to her as she interviewed the next applicant, who refused to drop his trousers for her so she sent him packing, as she did the next one for the same reason.

"Rafael, bring me the chef," her voice boomed across the room, he heard it in the corridor outside through the closed door; she had one hell of a powerful voice.

Rafael brought the chef to her, he stood before her his head hung expecting trouble.

"I start as I mean to go on, there was not enough butter on the sandwich, I want it spread evenly all over the bread, not just the middle, drop your trousers and bend over the settee," she told him.

He did as told knowing what was about to come, and didn't hide his fear of the pain he felt he was to endure. She came up to him and felt at his buttocks and smiled, Rafael now saw what she was like, he had felt her anger at making a mistake, but never knew that as she felt at his buttocks she had a smile on her face, anticipating the pleasure she would get from using the cane on him.

After the obligatory feel she picked up her cane and rested it on his arse, then raised it, and brought it back down to rest and raised it, she now held it for a moment, and then swish whack, a red line had been imprinted on his buttocks. She rested it again, raised it, and rested it and raised it, she held it and then swish, whack, a second red line stood out on his buttocks. Slowly meticulously she placed six red lines on his buttocks, all parallel and straight, she was an artist, and he was crying from the pain.

"Adjust your dress, and leave me, in future I want the butter to cover the slice of bread not just in the middle, and I let you off the six for being so slow. When I want my food I want it, not half an hour later. Next time I will not let you off. Now go and prepare my lunch," she told him.

"Fucking hell Rafael, what fucking century is it?" He asked Rafael in the kitchen.

"Any century she chooses, you agreed and she does expect too much, but as long as you accept what she is like and her demands, she will find a reason every day to use the cane on you, then you will keep your job. I am just grateful that I am not the only whipping boy, it may be that we now have to have the cane every other day instead of every day," Rafael told him.

"She just gives us the cane?" he asked.

"You, may be, but I have to try on her clothes for her, and that is very embarrassing, once she had me put a pair of panties on, and then felt at my cock to see if she could be attacked wearing them. Only a fool would do that, she would beat them daily, no trial just months in her dungeon with a daily beating, I wouldn't put it past her to castrate them, she is one hell of a bitch," Rafael said.

"Why do you stay, I will start to look for another job tomorrow, I need the work at the moment being the eldest child, but I will not stay," the chef said

"I am the bread winner for the family ever since my dad died, I don't have any option," Rafael told him sullenly.

"You could look for another job and leave when you get one that is what I will do," the chef said.

"And when they ask for a reference she will use the cane on you, telling you that you have a contract. I saw mine and I have to ask her permission, to get another job. She has me tied up in a pretty little bow. She will have you tied up in one as well, by the end of today, trust me," Rafael told him.