Yes Sir Ch. 02

The following morning, Gemma was overwhelmed, both with excitement as well as a cautious anticipation. As she expected, when the maid awoke, it was to a message on her phone detailing certain specifics that Reginald wanted that day. Gemma winced slightly.

'Dungeon. Twin braids. That red and black underwear set you bought last month. Make sure all of my knives are sharpened. I left them in the kitchen. See you at noon.'

'Yes Sir.' Gemma replied on the device. "Dammit..." She complained to herself. She really liked that underwear set. And she knew Reginald wasn't having her wear it only because he wanted to see her in it. It was going to be in the long list of underwear sets that he'd be buying her again after he destroyed them. Especially with him telling her to sharpen his knives. Regardless, she did the crime and now she had to do the time. Now was the time to get ready, anyway.

Gemma had her own section of the mansion. It had previously been the staff quarters but as she was the only full-time staff, the area was entirely hers. It was like having her own little apartment. Reginald and Lyra had never even seen her bedroom. Despite her subservient position, both of them respected her space.

Her closet might not have compared to her employers' but it was still pretty impressive, nonetheless. The irony of course being that she wore her uniform most of the time anyway, making most of the outfits a moot point. But Gemma did have days off after all.

A quick shower later, she was getting ready for the day. She put on the underwear that Reginald had told her to wear and was slowly and methodically doing her braids. She always wanted everything about her to look effortless but it was anything but. Her appearance was something that Reginald never had any complaints over. But just like him, that was because she took a lot of pride in it. Her uniform was always immaculate, as was everything from her hair to her make-up, which for today was specifically designed to go along with the red and black lingerie. And she would check multiple times a day to make sure it stayed that immaculate.

It wasn't even for the sake of vanity, though Gemma was fully aware of how attractive she was. She saw looking desirable as part of her job. If he didn't want to fuck her senseless the moment that he saw her then she failed, and that wasn't something that the maid took lightly. Looking herself over once more, Gemma nodded, smiling to herself. With that done she headed down the stairs and her shift officially started.

After prepping a few things in the kitchen, Gemma made a cup of tea, as always being very specific about how long it steeped and about how much sugar she used. Covering it, she made her way to Lyra's studio. The closer she got, the more she could hear the music. Classical. That meant she was painting something detailed. She must have finished the sculpture at some point last night.

When Lyra was painting then Gemma could just go in as long as she was quiet. It still made her nervous, but she went in anyway, waiting for Lyra to acknowledge her. Gemma kept her mind on not fidgeting, since that was apparently distracting.

"You can put it down." Lyra spoke without looking at Gemma, her eyes clearly focused on what she was doing.

"Yes, ma'am." Gemma smiled as she put the cup of tea down next to Lyra. "What would you like for breakfast?"

It was like Lyra had suddenly froze in place at the question before pulling back her brush altogether. "I'm not very hungry. Toast and eggs will do."

Gemma quickly nodded. "Right away ma'am." She immediately started to leave and then stopped. "Just to remind you, your husband has me booked from noon til three."

"Of course. Then make me a lunch while you're at it and give it to me before you go." Lyra responded, painting again. "I think I'll be in the mood for chicken."

"Would a chicken salad be okay, ma'am?" Gemma offered.

"Yes, yes that's fine." Lyra muttered, her eyes narrowing at the painting. "I don't overly care right now. Go away and stop distracting me. Please."

"Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am." Gemma nodded again and quickly hurried from the room. It took her a bit initially to get that when Lyra spoke curtly like that she didn't mean to come across blunt and sometimes even rude, she just always said what she thought. If you were distracting or bugging her, she would just tell you. It was simultaneously a relief and yet still nerve wracking somehow.

But Gemma quickly began to make breakfast, thankful that it was something simple. The more complicated what Lyra wanted was, the more things that she could find unacceptable about it. Even toast and eggs had to be very specifically done. Soon enough, the simple dish was finished, and Gemma just left it by the half-drunk tea and immediately left again to make herself some bacon and eggs as she baked the chicken and started to casually sharpen Reginald's knives.

The knives were slightly distracting because despite being in the kitchen, she knew what these knives were for and it wasn't for food. Just thinking about it made the maid lick her lips. It scared her, but it was a good fear. One she was looking forward to. Noon couldn't come fast enough. They were already pretty sharp from the last time Reginald had used them but he told her to sharpen them, so she was going to sharpen them.

Repetitive tasks like that could be soothing, allowing Gemma's mind to drift. Not to mention she was honored that he would even allow her to sharpen them. Reginald was very hands on with his tools. He bought them himself and he took care of them himself. The fact that he trusted her with them in the first place made her gleeful, and then she would remember what they were for and her breath would catch.

Gemma was tempted to send her employer a naughty pic of her playing with the knives, but she was in trouble enough as it was. When she pushed things, she ended up paying for it. She might have pushed things a little too far already. With Reginald there was a thin line between bad in a cute way and just bad, and Gemma lived on that line.

She carefully put the blades back in their case in the same order she found them, finishing her breakfast and checking on the chicken. It just needed a few more minutes so Gemma worked on the salad in the meantime. Like literally everything else, Lyra was very peculiar about the lettuce leaves so even salad took awhile. But soon enough, the food was prepared and in the fridge so that Gemma could continue her maidly duties.

Today she was predominantly doing the dusting in the upstairs hallways. Lyra's music echoed through until she reached the top of the staircase where it was much fainter. From there the time just flew by. In many ways the cleaning part of her job was the easiest. Maybe not the part she enjoyed the most, but it was the part she could do at least partially on autopilot. Before she knew it, a little alarm that she'd previously set went off indicating it was time for Gemma to start getting ready.

First thing was first. Gemma went to the kitchen to get Lyra's lunch ready, quietly bringing it into her studio. "Thank you." Lyra acknowledged, her focus clearly still on the painting, which meant it could still be some time before she ate. It was one of the reasons Gemma had suggested a salad in the first place.

With that sorted, Gemma went towards the stairwell that lead to the west wing of the mansion. Her heart immediately began to pound in her chest, the excitement and anticipation taking over. Once she reached it, there was a long hallway with various rooms which were all locked except for first one on the right. Taking a deep breath, Gemma entered the room.

Between the gray brick walls and the variety of cuffs, whips, ropes, harnesses, and restraints ranging from the floor to the walls to the ceiling among other things, the room just screamed dungeon, which is exactly why it was called as such. It reminded Gemma of the feelings she had when she would enter the master bedroom and couldn't stop herself from looking at Lyra's paintings.

In the dungeon, she couldn't help but to look at all of the various equipment. She'd barely had half of it used on her so far and yet it was all for her. This entire room was designed with Gemma in mind and she and her employer were the only ones that were ever in it. It was beyond flattering. The irony was that despite all of it being for her, Gemma wasn't allowed to touch anything here without permission. She made that mistake once and only once. Reginald always knew. Maybe there were cameras she didn't know about or something.

Regardless, Gemma put the knife case on the table where it belonged and began to take off her clothes, carefully folding them and leaving them by the door. She stopped at her bra and panty set. Usually the rule was for her to be naked, but he'd specifically said in his message to wear this set, so she had to assume he wanted her to wear them. She second guessed this decision a few times before keeping them on. With that done, all that was left was to wait.

And Reginald loved to make her wait. There was no telling how long she would have to stay kneeling with her head down by the door and Gemma was fine with that. This was supposed to be a punishment. If she enjoyed it all then it wouldn't be a very successful one. But she always wanted to be early regardless. Having him waiting on her was a level of boldness even she wouldn't tolerate.

Gemma made a point of not looking at her watch from this point on. Time always seemed to drag on so much longer when she was looking at it. Reginald had made her wait as much as an hour in the past, so it was best to just keep her mind occupied. As usual, it tended to be full of possibilities with all of these fun toys along with the other various ones in the other rooms, though Gemma hadn't been to all of them just yet. In fact, of the six rooms, she'd only been to four.

While Gemma had already been sitting up, she instinctively straightened her stature when she heard the footsteps. Her eyes remained on the floor as Reginald walked past her as if she wasn't there. This was usual as well. He'd make her wait and then he'd ignore her. Her instinct was to greet him but, in the dungeon, you don't speak until you're spoken to. She'd gone through an entire session once with no words spoken. It was interesting, but she definitely preferred audible commands and was pretty sure that Reginald was the same.

Gemma had to listen to figure out what was going on since Reginald's feet were now out of her field of vision. She heard shuffling, which she assumed was him taking off his jacket. And after that there was the sound of something opening and the clinking noises, Gemma assumed that Reginald was checking the knives. He let out an approving grunt which brought a smirk to her face. She knew she'd done a good job with those.

"Up." Reginald ordered, coming back into her view.

"Yes Master." Gemma immediately stood up, her grace matching her swiftness in the practiced movement. It always slightly amused her the difference that not wearing heels made for the size difference between her and her employer. But she fought the urge to look up as Reginald paced around her, clearly scrutinizing her. It was such a simple thing to do but just that feeling that she was being appraised filled her with excitement that she had no choice but to contain.

"You're not nude." Reginald stated sternly.

"You specifically told me to wear this set, Master. Was I wrong to feel that you wanted to see me in it?" Gemma stated as clearly as she could. She didn't know how it sounded to him but to Gemma, her voice was trembling as she tried to remain still.

"So you made an assumption." Reginald summarized.

Gemma bit her bottom lip nervously as she nodded. "Yes Master. Was I...incorrect in my assumption?"

"Not this time." Reginald admitted. "But making assumptions is very much a Russian Roulette situation. You do know how to avoid getting the bullet?"

"N-not to assume, Master. Do what you tell me." She answered cautiously.

"And if you're unsure about a course of action?"

"I ask you, Master." Gemma quickly nodded.

"Why are you here?" Reginald asked calmly.

"Because...I was a brat..." Gemma answered. She was shocked by the sudden hard slap across her face.

"Incorrect. Try again." Reginald stated coldly.

Reginald didn't strike her like that often. It immediately snapped Gemma to attention. He wasn't just irked at her, he was full blown angry. Her worries at having gone too far were clearly founded. "I...I'm sorry, Master. I was just... You were being more and more violent with me lately so... I thought you wanted to punish me here in the Dungeon, but I was behaving too much to do so. So...I misbehaved."

Reginald raised a skeptical eyebrow and using his pointer finger, tilted Gemma's head up to look at him. "So your disrespect was for my benefit?"

"Master, no!" Gemma protested. "I swear I didn't mean any disrespect. You know how much I respect you. It was supposed to be...playful..."

"Playful? I give you rules. And you agreed to those rules. You broke those rules and I let it go...and then you specifically broke my rules again when you knew I couldn't punish you."

Gemma's heart beat faster with fear and anxiety at his words and almost gave a rebuttal but then thought better of it and dropped her head again. "I...I'm being punished because I was disrespectful."

"Good girl." Reginald praised, "You're already in a hole and you were only digging it deeper."

"Sorry Master." Gemma stated, her cheeks burning red as she swallowed her pride. "I accept my punishment."

"We'll get to that. First thing's first. What did you do wrong?"

Gemma took a deep breath. "I broke your rules. On purpose."

Reginald reached down, noticing now Gemma flinched initially but catching herself, she went back into position for the gentle caress that was intended for the cheek that was recently slapped. "Yes. And while I appreciate what you were trying to do, what should you have done?"

Gemma sighed, trying her best not to be petulant. Petulance was allowed in other places but wasn't well received in the Dungeon. "I should have talked to you about it instead of acting on my own."

"And why is that?"

"Because Da-... Because you know what's best for me. And making assumptions is like playing Russian Roulette." Gemma replied, shyly glancing up at him through her eyelashes to see how angry he still was.

"That was very close." Reginald warned. "You almost fucked up."

"Sorry Master. I was getting emotional." Gemma admitted. "I'll be better."

"That's all I want for you." Reginald said, gently petting Gemma's head. "This room was designed entirely with your betterment in mind. That said, you did fuck up yesterday and you're going to have to pay for that."

"Yes Master." Gemma stated, pressing into the offered hand and basking in the affection while it lasted since the punishment was clearly coming.

"I'm disappointed in you, Gemma. So, this is not going to be pleasant. I've been thinking all day about this and I think your misbehavior merits...ten cane strikes."

"MASTER?!" Gemma immediately jolted, moving back slightly, tears forming in her eyes. "Please Master, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry! Please don't-" It was clear the moment Gemma regained herself and resumed her previous position, though the pleading remained in her eyes. "Please?"

Seeing the genuine fear, Reginald slightly broke protocol, placing his forehead to hers. "Gemma. Do you trust me?"

Gemma tried to catch her breath, his closeness and clear concern helping somewhat. "Y...yes Master. You know how I feel about canes."

"Yes, I do." Reginald agreed with a nod. "But you do trust me?"

Gemma took another deep breath, locking her eyes onto his and nodded back. "Yes Master. I trust you. Implicitly."

"Good. That makes me happy to hear. Do you want to continue?"

Gemma bit her lower lip. He was asking if she wanted to use her safe word. And he was patient in letting her think about it before she gave her answer. "T-ten strikes. Ten cane strikes."

"Such a brave girl." Reginald praised as he kissed her forehead. "Assume the position."

Gemma's heart was pounding again at the command. But he was right. She did trust him. And he had earned that trust. Standing up, Gemma walked to the nearest wall and spread her legs and pressed her hands against the wall trying her best to fight her fight or flight instincts from doing either, though flight was extremely tempting.

It was the waiting and the anticipation that made it even more torturous. She had to keep facing the wall unable to see what was about to happen or when it would happen. She could hear him getting the long implement and then walking to her but after that it was just silence.

"Count them." Reginald ordered.

"Yes Master." Gemma tried to control her breathing as she waited for the strikes. She flinched as she heard the cane swing and then the pain on contact, the second round of it radiating from her ass an instant after. "FUCK! One...thank you, Master."

Canes were a real bitch. You must be extremely careful about where you aim and how hard you hit with them. Even the way you strike had to be very specific. But Gemma's trust wasn't misplaced. Reginald knew what he was doing. He took her past experiences with canes into account whenever he felt the need to break out this particular punishment, which was rare. It indicated something that he really did not want to happen again while simultaneously helping her fear of them when someone knows what they're doing.

"Ugh! T-three...thank you, Master." Gemma winced, her vision getting blurry from her eyes watering. It was so hard to keep from physically reacting to each strike, just as it was hard not to keep from overly bracing for impact. Reginald tended to punish her for flinching by doing fake strikes. She'd hear the swing but there was no contact, and that's when she would truly realize how out of position she kept getting. She tried to do better, but her mind and body didn't always connect with things like this.

"MOTHERFUCKER! AGH! E-eight...Thank you, Master." Just two more strikes and it was over. She was pretty sure that Reginald was drawing this out on purpose. There was a chance that he was giving her time to breathe in between hits but she'd have much preferred to get it over with and he knew that. Her ass felt like it was on fire, stripes of searing crimson pain throbbing around the struck areas.

"Rrrrr! Nine... Thank you, Master." Gemma took a deep breath. The last one was the worst. Well the first one was actually the worst, but it was easy to forget that after repeated strikes. She closed her eyes and waited, trying her best to avoid the little "dance" she happened to do after a particularly hard hit.

Gemma grunted with the force of the final hit and winced, trying to fight her tears from falling any more than they already had. Her body couldn't relax from it because she knew what she had to do. It was the right thing, but the words were so hard to get out. But she took a deep breath and said it. "N...nine. Thank you, Master..."

She couldn't see Reginald's face, but she was sure he had quite the surprised look on his face. "Excuse me?"

"I...deserve a harder hit than that, Master..." She choked out. The last hit was always the hardest strike, literally speaking. It was just the way that Reginald did punishments like these. Physically hardest hit was last. It made her dread it even more through the whole punishment. But that tenth one was certainly not his hardest strike. She knew how hard he could hit and that was not it. She must have been wincing so much that he took pity on her. Pity she didn't deserve. She made it this far. She could take the full punishment.