Tiffany misses the bus

“Nineteen!”

“I will study every night and do well in school.”

Tiffany's bottom was red and sore from the spanking she was given by the spoon. Try as she could, she was unable to move from her position or say anything else. She had kept her eyes closed after the first few, face red with humiliation, as the maid paddled her. A few seconds went by, Tiffany finding herself clenching in anticipation of the final hit before a loud sound attracted her attention. Opening eyes and turning her head, she could see through the window and the garden foliage in her yard part of the street, the large yellow school bus stopped as the other students in her neighborhood boarded.

“Twenty!”

The hit was different. The maid had put down the spoon, taken off the simple white glove that was part of her uniform, and spanked her with the palm of her hand.

“I will study every night and do well in school.”

Tiffany said mechanically, unable to hold back even with her outrage and humiliation. She suddenly let out a sound, not unlike a squeek, as the maids other gloved had touched her. Tiffany was unable to move as the rubber covered fingers spread open her lips, her neat trim not visible from this angle, while the maid leaned in for a close look, feeling her dry lips being prodded unabashed.

“With your whorish and impudent behavior, I was sure you would have gotten wet, seems only right.”

Tiffany tried to lash out at her response, make some sort of retort calling the maid something worse, but frustratingly found herself still unable to move from her position. The spoiled rich girl was always used to getting what she wanted, acting like what she wanted, and looking down on everyone else. Even her situation was not quite enough to silence the part of her that always seemed to get what it wanted.

“Since you always want to be the center of attention, You should get aroused by being disciplined and humiliated.” The maid commanded again.

No! It can't work like that. Tiffany thought, wanting to scream at the maid, rubbing her thighs together as she suddenly felt them moisten before the fingers spread her opened as the maid examined it again. Her body certainly felt aroused, though all her mind felt was horror at the situation she was being **** into, the curse forcing her to body to respond but not otherwise triggering emotions or displacing her fear, disgust, and shame at being **** into this situation.

“There we go. Oh, step out of those panties, bad girls like you don't wear them.” Another command and Tiffany found herself raising a leg and letting the panties fall to the ground from her ankles, before repeating the motion with the other leg.

The buses motor revved outside, the students had boarded and sat down, the bus driving down the street while some of the occupants wondered what happened with Tiffany. The cheerleader in her kitchen, bent over her kitchen island with no panties as her maid touched her secret spots.

“Well, great, Guess I am stuck taking you to school on my day off!” The maid slapped her behind again, a smile forming on her face as she watched the cheerleaders redden bottom absorb the hit.

“I will study every night and do well in school.”

“Oh, you can stop that. Unlock and hand me your phone and sit down. “ Tiffany found her self standing, her skirt falling to cover her bare bottom, and reached over into her purpose to grab her phone. The maid took the phone and made a contact profile for herself with different ringtone, and texting alert.

“You will bring me all graded papers, report cards, and school notes you receive. You will answer my calls and check your messages when you receive something from me. What else... you can only change clothes with my permission, and you can't wear your normal cheerleading outfit, you must get one that fits tightly, at least one size smaller. If someone asks why, or comments on your lack of panties, you will tell them in a sensual voice that you are a bad girl. Follow me to my car.“

Tiffany followed the maid out to the car, her hands holding down the edges of her skirt afraid the wind would blow them up, only for the maid to have her stop outside the door. The car was an old honda accord, likely about as old as Tiffany, tan colored and beat up. A thick crack arced up to the windshield, from a rock that Tiffany once threw when she and her friends spotted the vehicle outside some department store, that the maid did not know Tiffany was responsible for.

The maid dug through the passenger seat, shoving trash and cleaning supplies into the back, clearing the seat.

“There, sit down.”

Tiffany felt so icky being in this car. For her profession, the maids own vehicle was such a disgusting mess with her cleaning surprise and discarded coffee and water bottles; it showed how much of a failure she was outside her job.

“What a day, never thought I would get to put you in your place.” The maid started talking aloud to the silent Tiffany, “It was so strange, suddenly showing up outside your house and knowing I had control over you. Wish I knew what happened and who I have to thank...”