A routine job leads to an interesting discovery
By Julie Baker
My name is Mandy Barker and I am 23 years old. I still live at home with my Mum and Dad in Sheffield, but I am trying to find a place of my own to give me a bit more privacy and independence. I’ve always been happy living at home and there are obvious financial advantages, but recently I have found it a bit restricting. I’m growing up in lots of different ways and finding new interests, but I’ll explain more about this later on. To start with, I had better give you a bit of background information on who I am and what I’ve been doing with myself since leaving school.
My parents are both teachers and we live in a reasonably good suburb of Sheffield called Crosspool. You might think that having parents who are teachers would mean that I would be academically able, but unfortunately this has not been the case. My Mum teaches domestic science at the local secondary school that I attended and my Dad is Head of Sport at Sheffield’s top fee paying grammar school, so neither of them are pure academics. I very much take after my Dad. I have his outgoing personality and I am a natural risk taker. I also have inherited his strong, athletic build along with my mother’s good looks and ability to forge friendships. I have blond hair that I wear in a bob, a pretty face, a warm skin tone and long slim limbs, a combination that seems to keep me well supplied with male admirers!
I have found it difficult to settle with any particular boyfriend though. My upbringing has been so happy that I would soon love to create my own family unit with somebody and raise some kids. I am an only child but my ambition would be to have a large family but I need to find someone to do it with! I think I’ve become too easily bored in the past and after the initial thrill of a relationship I’ve tended to want to move on after a few months. There always seems to be something missing in my relationships and they have tended to come and go too easily.
I left school at 16 with virtually no academic qualifications. I enrolled on a hairdressing course at the local technical college and within a couple of years I was able to hold down a full time job in a salon in the centre of Sheffield. The money was OK, particularly as I was living at home, but I eventually reached a point when I felt that I needed to re-evaluate my life. In theory, I became an adult when I was 18 but my parents made a big fuss of the more traditional transition into adulthood on my 21st birthday. This set me thinking and I concluded that I needed a job which was more outward looking than hairdressing and I began to apply for other positions in Sheffield.
I would love to say that I had a plan but in reality I didn’t. I applied for anything that looked vaguely interesting and didn’t require previous training or fancy academic qualifications. I got a few interviews but I was either not offered a position or concluded that I was better off staying where I was. After a couple of months I was beginning to think that I would have to stay in hairdressing when I got an interview for a job working as a general assistant at an auctioneers on the other side of the city. I discovered that they specialise in house clearances, and buy the entire contents of a house often after the occupant has died. The best of items are then put into the next auction, everyday goods are put up for sale in the large on-site shop-cum-warehouse and the remaining rubbish is consigned to the skip. A simple business model, but I could see that the work might be interesting.
You might think this is a strange business for a young girl to want to get into, but I was offered the job and jumped at the chance. I loved it from day one and I still work there now. I am a strong girl, so the physical side of it has not been a problem. I’m bright enough to cope with some of the basic office work and I absolutely love going out on valuation jobs with the boss. The owner of the business is called Graham and he is in his mid-30s. He is single, quite good looking and has a brilliant sense of humour. It also looks like he is doing quite well for himself with his detached house in Dore, which is one of the best addresses in the city, and a brand new Mercedes sports car. I’ve always been a bit flirty with him but, despite many opportunities, the age gap has perhaps prevented any relationship developing further.
Nevertheless, I always get a few butterflies in my tummy on the days he calls me into his office and tells me that we are going out on a job together. This is the part of my duties that I love best. I get a run-out to a different part of the city and the task is then to list all the items in the house whilst taking photos of anything unusual. Graham then goes back to the office and works out the total value of the contents after taking into account all of his costs. He then puts in a bid and waits for confirmation that he can go ahead with the clearance or not.
There was therefore nothing particularly unusual about the Tuesday morning last November when Graham called me through to his office to tell me that we were going out on a job together to Millhouses. Millhouses is a nice suburb of Sheffield with a mixed stock of houses, not far from where Graham lived in Dore. On the way, he explained that this house visit was a bit unusual in that the man who lived there had died in hospital and he had no known relatives or friends. Everything was being dealt with by his solicitor and the house had not been entered since this guy’s death, other than to turn off the services and clear the kitchen of any perishable food. We picked up the keys in town and were soon parked outside a fairly ordinary stone built terraced house in Millhouses.
When Graham and I do a house, we have a fairly well established routine. He does downstairs, where there are more likely to be items of interest or value, while I cover the upstairs rooms. The guy had apparently been dead for four months and the front garden was somewhat overgrown. However, I could tell from experience that the property was in good order and I expected the inside of the house to be reasonably neat and tidy. Apart from a bit of accumulated dust, this proved to be the case and Graham soon had the electricity switched on to allow us to get to work. It was a bit like the Marie Celeste with his newspaper still lying beside an untouched mug of tea in the sitting room and the kitchen table laid up for his evening meal which never got prepared. I felt like an intruder.
I always do bathrooms first. I quickly deduced that there was little of note in that room and almost all items would be destined for the skip. Next to the bathroom on the front of the house was a small double bedroom that appeared to have been where the gentleman slept. There was a double bed, which was still made up with sheets and a duvet, and a selection of good quality bedroom furniture. All his clothes were still there, but I knew that Graham would normally arrange for them to go to a charity shop if there were no relatives willing to deal with them. The rest of the furniture, I thought, would probably end up in the next auction.
That left what proved to be the largest bedroom on the back of the house, next to where the stairs opened out onto the landing. I breezed in, but nothing could have prepared me for what was suddenly in front of my eyes. It was one of those moments when the brain refuses to work properly. My mouth opened but confusion prevented any sound coming out. Eventually I managed to get back out of the room and I shouted for Graham from the top of the stairs.
“Graham!,” I managed to croak. “I think you had better come up here and see what I’ve found.”
Graham came bounding up the stairs with his trademark grin on his face. He could tell from my voice that I’d found something interesting. He bowled through the door that I was standing beside and even he, who had done years of this type of work, was stopped in his tracks. What was before him was a fully equipped punishment room. There was a thick, luxurious red carpet on the floor, black wallpaper with a swirly grey pattern, and the window was covered by a red black-out blind. The other rooms had pendant central lights, but this room had three rows of triple LED down-lighters set into the ceiling. There were a number of large mirrors on the walls.
To the right of the door was a piece of apparatus that you couldn’t mistake even, as was the case with me, you didn’t have any previous experience of the world of corporal punishment. It was a spanking machine. Just inside the door to the left was a bank of hooks set into the wall with all manner of spanking implements hanging from them. In front of this was a spanking bench, complete with wrist and body straps, while in the far left corner was an X-shaped frame with more straps. It didn’t take much imagination to work out what this was for!
“Wow!,” was all Graham could manage. “What are we going to do with this lot?”
We stood in silence for a few minutes.
“Have you any experience of this type of thing, Mandy?” he asked.
I could feel myself blushing.
“Well, no, Graham,” I replied truthfully. “It’s quite exciting though,” I added, trying to be helpful.
What I meant was that it was exciting because normally I would go into a room such as this and there would be a set of saggy twin beds and some old dark wood pieces of bedroom furniture. I now realise that Graham thought I meant a different type of excited.
“Well, we are professional house clearers, Mandy,” he said with mock seriousness. “And it would be remiss of us not to test all equipment on offer. I already know the TV, fridge, cooker, washing machine and vacuum cleaner all work fine, but we will need to check out the contents of this room. You’re the assistant round here so get yourself onto the spanking machine and I’ll test it on you.” He said this last bit with a smile and a chuckle in his voice, so I wasn’t sure if he was being serious.
“I don’t think so, Graham,” I replied, looking him in the eye. “I’m not sure my pay grade stretches that far!”
“OK, Mandy, I can see your point. We ought to plug it in, though, to make sure it is in working order. This is maybe something to sell on-line,” he said, suddenly getting his work-head back on.
The machine was a similar colour to the carpet and had ‘Robospanker’ written on the side. It had a place to kneel, and a slightly higher platform for the recipient of the spanking to lay their upper body along. There were then two lower pads towards the front to take the elbows and lower arms. There were straps to secure ankles and wrists, with the idea that the person would be positioned securely on their knees and elbows with their bottom presented for the spanking. The final part of the apparatus was the machine that stood to the side with a vicious looking leather strap, an electrical lead and a dial that was numbered 1 to 10 with ‘gentle’ and ‘hard’ written at either end of the scale. Finally, there was a dial numbered 1 to 50 with a start button located in the centre of it.
Once Graham had plugged it in, it was clear how it worked. The machine made a whirring noise as the strap was pulled backwards against a spring and then it was released with obvious consequences. To be honest, we were both fascinated. We played with it for ages, trying it on the different settings and testing its ability to count the strokes.
“Come on, Mandy,” Graham eventually implored. “Please give it a go.”
“OK, on the gentlest setting then, a maximum of six strokes and I’m keeping my jeans on.” I hoped this would keep him happy.
I was wearing a white tee shirt, a black cotton sweatshirt and skinny-fit light blue jeans. My jeans were made of standard denim and I figured that I couldn’t come to too much harm, given that I had two layers of protection over my bottom. At this stage, I had no feelings that this was anything more than a bit of fun and a way of testing the equipment.
I climbed onto the machine and Graham secured my ankles and wrists. I could see this created a bit of additional frisson. He then positioned the spanking machinery so that the strap was at the right height and range to strike my bottom squarely in the middle.
“OK, Mandy, I’ve got it on the gentlest setting and set the number of strokes to six. Let me know when you are ready and I’ll press the button.”
“Let’s go for it,” I replied.
Well, it was fairly tepid. Little more than six taps on my bottom that I could barely feel through my jeans.
“Shall we crank it up a bit, Mandy?” Graham suggested.
“Yes, fine, let’s go for six at strength six,” I replied. I was beginning to get into it a bit more.
The next six certainly began to sting, and it was after this set that I first detected that the atmosphere was starting to become more sexually charged between Graham and myself. We had already established the machine worked, but Graham wasn’t finished.
“Shall I lower your jeans to see how effective it is over your panties only?” he offered.
I often wear a thong under those jeans, but that day I happened to have on a rather nice pair of white satin panties with full coverage at the back. I, too, wanted to know how that strap would feel with less protection over my bottom.
“All right, but only my jeans to be lowered please,” I replied.
To give him some credit, he was very careful in the way he pulled down those skin tight jeans to leave my panties in place. I could sense he was getting into this and as I waited for the next six strokes from that machine. I was starting to wonder where this whole train of events was heading. Not having the benefit of my jeans did make a considerable difference. For the first time, I experienced a sharp burst of pain as each stroke came, and by the end I was breathing a little more heavily. I was conscious that my eyes were watering a bit by the end but I was starting to find the whole experience rather exhilarating.
I think Graham was picking up on the vibes that we were both experiencing.
“Well, it would be a shame not to test the other bits of equipment while we are here,” he ventured.
“Quite,” I replied.
I was now in it hook, line and sinker. He released my straps and we were soon stood in front of the array of spanking implements hanging from the hooks by the door. There were canes, whips, leather belts, wooden spoons, a couple of hairbrushes and a selection of shoes. My jeans were now down around my ankles and I was gently rubbing my bottom through the silk panties. The slippery material sliding over my recently chastised skin was deliciously erotic.
“Shall I try this slipper on your bottom with you on the spanking bench?” Graham suggested, taking a white canvas shoe off one of the hooks.
“Yes, that sounds good. Not too hard though, and I think six is plenty for me to take. I’ll take off my jeans, but my knickers remain firmly in place, Graham!”
There were some elements to this game that I was keeping well and truly under my control.
I was soon strapped onto the spanking bench and I could feel Graham tapping my bottom with the shoe. Six smart strokes followed and this was a definite step up from the previous round. The pain in my bottom grew as each blow struck my soft flesh, and I was crying out from the third stroke onwards. I had a little cry at the end but by this stage I was absolutely buzzing. He then released my straps and I went across to one of the mirrors for a little private peek to see how my bottom was coping. I peeled down the back of my panties to reveal a mass of red throbbing flesh. I gave it a little rub, re-positioned my underwear and looked at Graham for an indication of the next move.
Graham had suddenly become quite focused and forceful. His delivery wasn’t unkind, but this was now getting serious and there was no lightness or laughter in his voice. I think he knew he had got me to a state of excitement where I was unlikely to refuse his next request.
“Right, Mandy, I now want you to remove your panties and the rest of your clothes before going across to the ‘X’ frame in the corner. I’m going to strap you in and apply 10 strokes on the cane to your bare bottom. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Graham,” I replied. I’d lost all sense of reality by this stage and my clothes were soon in an untidy heap on the floor. I knew that I had a good body and Graham seeing me naked was not an issue for me. I faced him while he selected a long rattan cane from one of the hooks and, as he turned, he will have seen my naked body. I then turned away and stood in front of the ‘X’ with my legs apart and arms outstretched, waiting for Graham to once again fasten the straps.
The frame was tilted slightly forwards so I did get the sensation of lying on the frame rather than standing up. There was a soft leather pad at the centre of the ‘X’ to make it more comfortable. Ironic, I thought, given what was about to happen to my poor bottom! In that moment, I felt totally vulnerable and exposed, but this simply heightened the thrill. Somehow in the space of 15 minutes I had gone from being a fully clothed auctioneer’s assistant to being totally naked and about to take 10 cane strokes on my bottom from my boss.
A remarkable turnaround!
It’s hard to describe what getting the cane for the first time is like. In a sense, it is similar to getting the strap or slipper, but in another way it is totally different. The cane cuts into you more and you get a fiery, stinging line of pain on your bottom rather than the building, over all soreness of a slippering. 10 strokes of the cane is a high dose for a first timer. The first one was quite a shock, sparking a very sharp intake of breath. Graham was leaving longer gaps between the strokes when using the cane, and after the first few I realised that I had not asked him to go easy on me. To say something part way through would have ruined the atmosphere and, in reality, by this stage of proceedings, I was committed and at his mercy.
The cane strokes kept on coming and I realised afterwards that on my small bottom it is impossible to administer 10 strokes without some landing in the same place. Totally impossible. I wept throughout the second half of the caning but perversely I didn’t want it to stop. I let out a cry of pain every time that cane landed on my bottom, but after the last one I was left with the most amazing feeling of exhilaration. Graham undid my straps and I collapsed into a heap on the floor, eyes tight shut with my head buried into my arms. A few moments later, when I had stopped crying, I got back onto my feet and realised that I was alone in the room.
I had another look at my poor bottom in the mirror and gave it a rub with both hands to ease the discomfort. I then got dressed and went back down the stairs to find Graham. The front door was open, and I could see Graham sitting in his car outside. The key was in the lock. I soon had the house secure again and, not long after, we were heading back across town to the depot. We sat in silence initially and we then discussed the valuation of the house contents as if nothing unusual had happened.
I still work for Graham and he has been a perfect gentleman and boss since that day. He hadn’t forced or even encouraged me to do anything that I didn’t want to do, and afterwards he treated me exactly how he had done previously. He has given me more responsibility recently, along with a pay rise, but nothing that my efforts and contribution hasn’t deserved. There has never been anything of a sexual nature between us since, but I learnt a lot about myself in that strange house at Millhouses.
© Julie Baker 2019