Evil's Niece by Melissa Macneal

men, in the prime of life,’ she breathed, taking in every curve of their cushions, every sinew of the thighs that ended in a froth of white ruffles at their knees. ‘Yet I was certain they were girls. Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’
    Religion was the furthest thing from my mind, however, for only one penitent awaited her due, and her creamy, rounded moons were already aquiver. White thighs framed a neat little pair of nodules adorned by hair so pale it was nearly invisible, yet I had no trouble imagining what stuck out in front, high and hard: Sylvia had shifted to allow it room to grow. Her panties ringed dainty knees and white-stockinged legs, with fine-boned ankles and feet just made to fit my beautiful see-through shoes. While it irked me that Sylvia had chosen my newest, most expensive footwear, I had to admire her taste.
    ‘And you , silky Sylvia!’ Monique’s voice crescendoed. ‘Carried away with straightening Miss Eve’s pretty slippers, even after I warned you, non ?’
    Whisss-smack went the slender cane, and the maid’s outburst wrenched my soul.
    ‘Please, Mistress Monique,’ she pleaded, her ankles wobbling on the high, narrow heels. ‘I was trying to do my best job —’
    ‘You tried on every shoe in the closet!’
    ‘— of placing each pair beneath the dress they complemented best, and —’
    Tap, tap, tap.
    ‘— Miss Eve has such a lovely assortment, I couldn’t always decide —’
    Whisss-smack , and again Sylvia yowled like a whipped kitten, reaching back to shield her ass with her hand.
    I was ready to step in, but Mrs Frike took my elbow. ‘Obviously needs watching, that one,’ she intimated, shaking her head sternly. ‘Better to let her — him — take his licks now, and understand what’s expected in this house. I can tell you I won’t tolerate any such foolishness about your clothes and shoes when it’s me they answer to!’
    Her vehemence gave me pause: in my years as Mrs Proffit, I’d known Fanny Frike to run a disciplined household, but not with a cane. Not by punishing some poor servant’s bare backside! Yet I sensed the thrumming pulse in her grip had nothing to do with this spanking spectacle. Something about having three young men with interesting idiosyncrasies under her roof was giving the housekeeper a whole new outlook on staff management.
    ‘All right, Cinderella!’ Monique continued, slapping the curved handle of the cane against her palm. ‘It’s down to the cellar with you — to let your sisters get all the glory — if you misbehave this way again, non ?’
    ‘But I didn’t mean to —’
    Whisss-smack , and yet another piteous yelp, and another shining pink stripe across that ripe, white backside.
    ‘It’s just that…well, Cinderella wasn’t a queen,’ Sylvia protested. ‘She was only the misfit princess in a fairy tale!’
    ‘Enough whining. All of you — up. Up!’ Monique banged the cane’s tip on the floor to hurry them along. ‘You will apologise to Miss Eve for using her personal effects for your own enjoyment. You will spend the rest of today wearing only your aprons, with your panties around your knees. And you will answer to your new names — cheerfully, oui ?’
    ‘Yes, Mistress Monique,’ they replied as they turned to face me.
    Cleopatra in her kohled eyes, and Toinette with her pearl headpiece, and Cinderella in her glasslike slippers without a prince to rescue her from such piercing shame. It took all my effort not to giggle as they made their apologies. Each maid in turn came forward, begged my forgiveness, and swore to behave with perfect decorum from here on out. And, as they peeled off their outer clothing, leaving their panties down around their knees, I realised the point of Monique’s punishment: their rosy rears would be on display for all to see, a reminder of their morning’s shortcomings.
    ‘What a bunch of sissies!’ Monique hissed — although, even with her wicked mask and fierce black attire, I could see she