“A Maid’s Friends and Fantasies"

A Maid’s Friends and Fantasies – Devlin O’Neill’s Short Stories, published by Blue Moon

‘Devlin’s Cure for Gwen’ – excerpt

My heart sank as he put the phone down and turned to me. He had that look in his eyes. They were such nice eyes, too; gray-blue with tiny black flecks in the pupils. But now, there was that look in them, the one that happened when he wrinkled his forehead just the tiniest bit. I called it his professor look, but never out loud, and it always made me feel like I forgot to do my homework. He held out a hand and crooked the index finger, but my feet refused to move. I opened my mouth and my lips worked, but no sound came out.

“Gwendolyn? What’s wrong? Come here, please.”

I hate it when he calls me that. Gwendolyn is my in trouble name and I didn’t want to be in trouble. I just wanted to sit in his lap while he cuddled me and made up for all the long, lonely evenings when he’s not here. But I needed to touch him, to feel his strong arms, so I didn’t stomp my foot very hard before I went to him. He twined his fingers in mine while I put up my lips and whimpered when he didn’t kiss me.

“Would you care to explain your condition, young lady?”

I pouted and blinked. “What condition?”

He sighed as he led me to the sofa. We sat down and I cuddled his shoulder while I gave him my best wide-eyed innocent smile.

“Let’s start with your robe. I know it’s Saturday, but shouldn’t you be dressed by now?”

I licked my seriously unkissed lips as vodka swirled in my head. “I, um … there was an emergency … um … at work. So I was … I’ve been on the phone all morning but I’ll go get dressed now, OK?”

His big, gentle hand clasped my shoulder when I tried to get up, so I gave in and bit my lower lip while I didn’t look at him.

“Princess, what sort of work emergency could you have on Saturday morning?”

“It … it was a travel emergency … um … Amy’s boss, he … yeah! He got stuck in New York and he needed a ….”

I stopped when he put a finger under my chin to raise my head. The stern look was gone but I nearly cried because he looked so sad.

“Gwen, please don’t say anymore right now because you know how much I hate it when you fib to me.”

“But I’m not … I mean ….”

“Shh … you didn’t forget I was coming, did you?”

“God, no! Jesus, Devlin, I … I’m sorry, but Amy got Harrison’s Jag for Mike, and then the Mimosas and … and I was all ready for you and ….”

He nodded, wrapped his arms around me and picked me up. I wept drunken tears into his white shirt while he patted my back. Red, blue and green lights flashed behind my eyelids as I floated down the hall, through my bedroom and into the bath. He set me on quivery feet and I leaned against the counter. I opened my eyes just a slit and wailed when I saw the smudged and smeary face in the mirror. Strong, sure fingers untied my robe belt and I sighed as he slipped it off my shoulders. He turned me around and my nipples burned against his chest.

“Your panties are very nice, Gwen,” he whispered.

I gasped when he tugged them down and let them drop in a blue puddle at my feet. “Devlin, I’m really, really ….”

“We’ll start the day over, all right? I don’t know what got into you this morning but it’s not going to happen again, is it?”

“N-no! I … I know I shouldn’t have dranken all those Screwdrivers but Amy was so excited and ….”

“You dranken all those Screwdrivers?”

And then he laughed, and that made me mad enough to stomp my little foot. Was it my fault his Italian wingtip got in the way?

“Ow! Gwen! For crying out loud!”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry! Devlin? Nooo! What are you …? Ow!”

His hands are nice and soft when he hugs me or rubs my back or strokes my breasts so I don’t know how they can be so hard when he spanks my bottom. It just doesn’t make sense. But that swat felt like a very large, very hard paddle, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. And then he didn’t even rub the sting, he just pushed me into the shower stall and turned on the spray!


“Hush. Pick up the soap and wash off that distillery smell.”

The cool water cut into my breasts like tiny knives. I turned and the knives attacked my quivery bottom. “But Devlin.”

“Now, young lady! Unless you want me to scrub the skin off your fanny with the loofa!”

“No! You’re just being a sh ….”

He glared at me. “I’m just being a what?”

“Nothing! OK? Geeze!”

I grabbed the Ivory bar and lathered while I watched him go into the bedroom. The spray felt good on my hot face and I scrubbed away the soggy makeup. I shut off the water and sputtered as I groped for a towel and wiped my eyes. Where did he go? What’s he doing? Did I hear the front door shut? Is he still mad that I stomped on his foot? That was like mega-stupid, Gwen! He really was OK that I got drunk this morning so why the hell did I have to do that? I mean it wasn’t even my fault I got drunk. He should spank Amy. Yeah! No! No, no, no! He’s not going to see her fat fanny bare, no way! I peered through the ribbons of steam, then tiptoed over and put my head around the doorjamb. Devlin stood by the closet door and shrugged into the burgundy terrycloth robe he keeps here. He turned, smiled at me, and my heart skipped a beat. God, I love his hairy chest!

“Feel better, Princess?”

“Uh huh. Devlin, I ….”

He put a finger to his lips and strode toward me. I quivered when he took the towel, turned me around at the sink and patted my back with it. He picked up my comb and we looked at each other in the foggy mirror while he parted my hair in the middle. He chuckled.

“What?” I said.

“You look like Al Falfa.”

“Nuh uh!”

I jabbed a gentle elbow into his ribs. He grinned and gathered a handful of short hair just above my right ear, then opened a drawer and found long-forgotten hair bands. I gasped as he twisted one around the hair to make a spiky pigtail.

“OK … now the other side.”

“Devliiiin,” I wailed while I tried not to laugh. “This is ridiculous. You can’t ….”

He bent me over the sink and swatted my bottom three times really quick. His spanks really, really hurt when my butt is wet, so I pushed my lower lip out when he let me up, to show him how mad I was. He didn’t seem to care how hard I pouted, but he never does. He’s like that. I made faces at him in the mirror while he tied another pigtail on the left side.

“There, Princess … you’re adorable.”

“For Pete’s sake, Devlin! I look like I‘m twelve.”

His lips pressed my neck and a hot, quivery blush flowed down my breasts and into my belly.

“I’ll bet you were cute at twelve.”

I hated my new hairstyle so I took a deep breath and reached for the right-side pigtail. He pushed my hand away, which didn’t really surprise me, but I gasped anyhow.

“Don’t you want me to get dressed?”

“Of course. I laid your clothes out on the bed so go put them on.”

“But not with these things in my hair. You can’t be serious! Ow! Devlin!”

You’d think after all this time I’d learn not to argue with him, especially when I’ve got nothing on to protect my tushy, but obviously I haven’t. So I rubbed the new sting, let him kiss me (let him? Ha!) and stomped into the bedroom.

I couldn’t believe it, so I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Where on earth did he find that? No way! This is over the top even for him! His warm hands rubbed my shoulders and I sighed, then I leaned backward into his chest.

“Very funny, Devlin.” I turned to wrap my hands around his neck.

He rubbed my bare bottom and warm tingles flashed into my tummy. I leaned back so he could bend and kiss me. Mmmm. His tongue is so soft. It tastes like satin sheets and candlelight.

“Put your jammies on, Princess,” he whispered into my mouth.

I squeezed my eyelids tight and shook my head. “You’re kidding, right? They’re little girl baby doll pajamas! You can’t really expect me to … ow! Jesus, Devlin! Ouch! Don’t! Please!”

Damn! His hand just gets harder and harder every time he smacks my bottom!

“Put them on, Gwen!”

“OK, OK! Don’t yell at me …geeze! Where’d you get these, anyway?”

“A friend in LA. Now put them on.”

“Ow! OK!”

How can he be so sweet one minute and so bossy the next? I picked up the lace-trimmed top and matching panties. The soft cotton had a little ballerina pattern that was kind of cute. I huffed and put on the top while I glared at him. I didn’t glare long because he had that look in his eyes, and it wasn’t even my fault! It was Ames. He should spank her! Little brat. He should use a hairbrush and … what?

“I said, button the front, Gwen. Are you still loaded?”

“Nooo, I just … OK! There! Happy?”

He frowned and nasty butterflies danced in my tummy while I pulled on the pants, then sat on the bedside and wriggled my bottom. The material felt really good, but Devlin still had that stern look so I fluttered my eyelashes and tried to look contrite. I’m not very good at contrite and he knows it, dammit! He smiled but that only made it worse.

“Come here, Gwendolyn.” He held out a hand.

Oh, geeze! Gwendolyn again. Devlin was going to spank me and there was nothing I could do about it, so I got up to face the music. My legs felt like they were made of shaving cream but I managed to stumble to him. He took my hands while I leaned on his hard chest. His heart pounded under my ear, low, slow and steady.

“Princess, I’m very disappointed. You know that, don’t you?”

That voice! It’s always so deep ‘cause it starts way down inside and … what did he say?


He sighed, held my shoulder and made me lean back so he could look into my eyes. “I said I’m going to blister your bottom, little girl.”

“You didn’t say that! I’d’ve heard that! Why are being so mean to me? I thought we were going to have fun this weekend.”

“We will … after you sober up. You’re still about two sheets to the wind.”

“Nuh uh! And anyway it’s all Amy’s fault! She should’ve told me … no!”

I don’t know how, but all of a sudden I was across his lap with his arm on my back, and all I could do was kick and scream while he yanked my pants down. I felt warm and cozy in those silly panties, so it was just awful when he pulled them to my knees and my butt nearly froze … and then he spanked it, which didn’t help at all!


“Hush, Gwen! I’ve hardly started.”

“Uh huh! It hurts very hardly! Neeeah! Ow! Devlin!”

His awful, nasty, hard hand just kept on smacking my bare bottom, which was so unfair because it wasn’t even my fault, but I couldn’t tell him that because I was crying so much. I mean, it really did sting, but he didn’t care. He just kept on spanking me, like I was a little girl or something. And he kept on talking to me while he smacked my bottom, like I could even listen!

“Young lady, what in the world possessed you to get loaded and greet me at the door without any clothes on? Hm? Tell me!”

“Ouch! Fwee! Baaah! Neeenoooh!”

“The very idea! Plastered at eleven in the morning, when you knew I just flew in from LA on the redeye. Do you have any idea how tired I am?”

“Yaaah! Ohoo! Heezooo! Prreee!”

“Not to mention hungry. Do you know what United serves for breakfast on the redeye? Lie still, you little brat! There’s a spot on your right cheek that isn’t … quite … scorched … enough! There! There! There!”

“Yeeeoweee! Devlin!”

I’m not sure exactly when he turned me over, but it sure felt good when he hugged me. God, did my bottom burn! I was glad he left my panties down, and even gladder when he kissed me. Mmmm. He’s such a good kisser, but I was so mad at him.

“Feel better, Princess?”

It was easy to pout because my lips were all wet with tears. “No! You were very harsh to me and I hate you!”

He hugged me real hard and smiled. “No you don’t. You had that coming and you know it.”

“I did not … it was all Amy’s fault. She made me drink all that Screwdriver junk so I’d be a mess when you got here and ….”

“I love you, Gwen,” he whispered in my ear.

“Oh, geeze.”

Yeah. I folded. How can I stay mad at him when he says stuff like that? Then he took off those silly PJs and put me back over his lap so he could smear cold cream on my bottom. I really like it when he does that, especially when he smears it down in the crack while he kisses me. I had to twist my neck halfway around to give him my lips, but I really wanted to give him something else, later on, after our nap.


  1. You and me both. *G*

    Yes, in the short stories Devlin is Devlin, but these really aren’t anything to do with the Maid novels except that some characters have the same names. Most of the plots sprang from the fertile and very naughty imaginations of the female protagonists, and I simply took their ideas and ran with them.


  2. ‘Most of the plots sprang from the fertile and very naughty imaginations … ‘

    Takes one to know one. ;)

    Hi Gaspar! Welcome!

  3. Jay Walker

    heh heh, just ordered this one. Can’t wait to read it…..maybe i’ll get some idea’s to wind Worzel up lol ;-)

  4. Maybe he’ll get some ideas on how to sort you out, Jay.