by Maggie Ryan
Lucy stammered her own good night and reluctantly allowed her sister to step away.
“Good night, Lucille,” Edward said, nodding to the housekeeper who opened Lucy’s door. Calling his wife to him, Louisa obediently followed him further down the hallway.
Mrs. Bremmer pulled Lucy into her room, efficiently stripping her naked only to draw a nightgown over her head, the hem falling to brush across the tops of her feet. Lucy sat on the low stool before her vanity, trying not to squirm in discomfort as her hair was brushed and then braided into a thick plait that hung almost to her bottom. The silence was heavy, the ache for comfort intense as the minutes passed slowly. When Mrs. Bremmer led her to her bed after turning back the covers, Lucy crawled between the sheets, anxious to escape into sleep. She was shocked when the older woman who’d been gruff with her since accompanying her home from school bent over her and gently swept her fingers down her cheek.
“I know it has been a difficult day, little one. Rest now, and try to be a good girl for his lordship tomorrow. I’m not sure your poor bottom can take another spanking if you don’t learn to be obedient.” She bent a bit more and placed a gentle kiss on Lucy’s forehead. As she stepped away to blow out the lamp, Lucy lost the courage she’d relied to carry her through one of the worst days of her life and began to weep softly. When the door to her room closed, she rolled onto her stomach to get her weight off her aching bottom. In the privacy of her bed, she gingerly clutched at her heated flesh and rubbed gently, trying to ease the pain. The pillow beneath her was soaked with her tears and her mind full of confusing images of canes, birches, stern words meshing with words of praise, offers of support, pillows and forgiving smiles. She turned to her side with a soft moan, her hands moving from her bottom to rest between her legs as if her body knew something her mind did not. With a final long sigh, her breathing finally eased and she drifted into peaceful slumber.
Chapter 15
Edward stripped his wife just as quickly, but instead of a gown being offered, he led her to their marriage bed as naked as the day she was born. He watched her face as he pulled back the covers. A quick glance of wide eyes and a soft whimper were the only indication of her discomfort as she glanced back down at the mattress. Instead of crisp and cool sheets he knew she had expected to see, a brown rectangle of rough hemp had been placed on her side of their bed. He raised his brow at her hesitation, the silent reminder of his promise of instant punishment for disobedience. It proved effective as she crawled onto the bed, turned over and lay down upon the coarse hemp mat. Edward watched as she continued to shift and squirm as inconspicuously as possible while he removed his own clothing. He did nothing to hide his arousal from her, didn’t even attempt to shield her from the sight of his erection jutting from his body.
He left the lamp lit wishing to watch her face as he taught her another lesson in obedience. He climbed onto the bed and, without a word, used his hands to spread her legs wide apart. He watched her grimace as his weight pushed her down onto the mat. He knew it was extremely uncomfortable as the bristles worked their way into her bottom. It would have been difficult enough to nap this afternoon when it had only been caned. Now, freshly birched, he knew the discomfort had increased exponentially. He moved to place himself between her thighs and positioned himself.
“Tell me why your punishment is not yet done yet your sister’s is complete.”
Vivid violet eyes met his. “Because I knew better. I knew what would happen if I… we… were caught.”
“And yet you willingly played a part,” he said. “Put your hands above you, Louisa, wrap your fingers around the rails and keep them there.” He waited until she stretched her arms above her head, her soft gasp pleasing him as the move to obey forced her bottom to endure more of the mat’s irritating surface before he continued. “Why is that, little one?”
Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, her face flushing, her eyes shifting away before returning to his. With a soft shake of her head, she whispered, “I-I don’t know.”
Bending his head down, his lips traced the curve of her neck to her ear, his breath causing her skin to break out in millions of goosebumps. Taking the lobe between his teeth, he gave it a little nip before he spoke into the delicate pink shell. “Yes you do.” She squirmed beneath him, her breath a bit ragged as he took another bite, this one a bit sharper. “Tell me.”
“I-I’ve… I’ve missed… missed this,” she confessed, her voice so very soft and yet he knew it was the truth.
His little lady may fight against every command, might cry out with every stroke of his hand, a cane, or birch—would blush with every instruction to open herself to him—but the truth was, she craved everything he offered, every lesson he was teaching her
Pushing up, he moved to speak against her lips. “That’s my good girl.” Capturing her eyes, loving the look of pain combined with expectation swirling within their depths, he drove into her with a huge thrust. She arched her body and moaned as he completely filled her. He allowed her that one unconscious move but then shook his head.
“Remain still, little one. This isn’t for your pleasure, it is solely for mine.” Edward took his time as he took his wife. He enjoyed every squirm, every shift and moan as her mind fought to obey while her body fought to lift her hips to both match his movements as well as to remove her bottom from the pressure of the mat. Edward easily kept her pinned beneath him, not allowing her an inch of freedom. He had no intention of allowing her to take charge. He began to pump into her fast and hard until she was thrashing her head and pulling against the rails of the bed.
“Ohh, oh, please… oh… ohhhh,” she moaned deeply as he impaled her completely.
He knew it was difficult enough to accommodate his size within her small body, but when he was taking her with abandon, without care as to her comfort, it was accomplishing exactly what he intended. He was punishing her while giving her everything she’d never willingly admit she needed to feel fully alive. Her eyes swam with tears as he pounded into her again and again, driving balls deep with every thrust. He knew she would feel her body begin to betray her as her pleasure began to build despite the pain or perhaps due to his intense taking of her. However, Edward was a man of experience and well able to read every sign of his wife’s body. He saw her nipples harden and her face flush, her eyes going glassy each time she began the climb toward her pleasure. He would immediately still himself inside her until the danger of her spending passed and only then would he continue his claiming of her.
“Please, sir, Papa… please, Papa, please may I take my pleasure… please!” she begged the third time he had gone completely still within her.
He could feel her heart pounding in her chest as he drew a turgid nipple into his mouth, her breasts heaving with every breath.. He knew that her every nerve felt as if it were on fire and that the barest touch to the swollen and throbbing pearl between her legs would release her pleasure, allowing her to forget she was being punished. A tear slid from the corner of her eye to slide down her cheek, disappearing into tresses of golden curls spread across the pillow beneath her head.
Edward moved to whisper against her parted lips, “Naughty little girls get fucked hard, but will never be allowed pleasure when they are being punished.”
Louisa keened as he began again slowly fucking her as if to make her aware of every slide of his cock into her swollen and throbbing sex. She moaned as he used his weight to press her against her naughty mat, the pain from her thrashing mixed with the bite of the fibers. Yet, he was completely cognizant of the fact that his little one wasn’t truly in pain from having the skin of her bottom welted or pricked a hundred times. No, she was in pain from the desperate need, the constant ache to find the release he denied her even as he sought his own deep within her body.
She needed to learn that he was the only one who could gift her with the pleasure she sought. She needed to fully understand that no matter how much she begged, no matter how many tears she wept, he
would never fail her in his duty as her husband, her disciplinarian, her papa. Tight control of his needs allowed him to withdraw and advance, spearing into her, rotating his hips to grind against that poor over-sensitized bundle of nerves at the apex of the sweet pussy he continued to plunder. She’d not be allowed to explode but that didn’t keep her sex from weeping its need, coating his cock with her essence every time he thrust forward, the evidence glistening along the length of his shaft with every withdrawal.
“Papa!” she screamed as he drove hard a final time, his cock pulsing so hard it was painful as his seed shot up its length to fill her womb. He pressed his forehead against hers, their breath mingling as he panted. His lips brushed across her cheeks, kissing away her tears as she accepted the truth that his would be the only release allowed in their bed this night.
Edward lay still for several minutes as he caught his breath. When he finally pushed away from her and rolled onto his side, she remained splayed open, her hands on the rails above her head, his seed dripping from her slit onto the very mat that continued to bite into her bottom. Edward got out of bed, knowing she was throbbing with the need for release. He smiled softly as he pulled two lengths of rope from beneath his pillow.
Reaching above her, he wrapped a length around her wrist, securing it to the rail. “No need to tempt you to disobey me is there, little one? I know you are aching as your sweet little pussy is weeping its tears all over your naughty mat. Little hands must not be allowed to go where they don’t belong.” With one wrist secured, he reached for the other.
“Who is allowed to touch you between your legs and play with your little clittie, my dear? Who is allowed to open your slit and push fingers well up into your poor needy pussy? Who allows you to take your pleasure, little girl?”
She blushed hotly, but the lamp’s illumination gifted him the sight of color moving from the tips of her breasts up her neck to spread across her beautiful face.
“Yo-you do, Papa.”
“That’s right, little one. Only Papa can make your body jump and twitch and twist and swell. Either from a nice thrashing, as you received earlier, or”—he paused and bent down to kiss the tip of one puckered nipple—“when your body is begging and just aching to explode with your spending.” Her breath caught as he opened his lips to suckle her nipple, his teeth taking quick sharp bites until she was once again twisting on her mat, totally unaware that she was constantly repeating, ‘please, please, please,’ a mantra that would go unfulfilled.
Edward chuckled, as he stood looking down at her practically glowing with her need. He kissed her mouth gently, his tongue tracing along her lips loving the way she parted them for his possession. He allowed himself a more thorough taste before pulling away to extinguish the last lamp and then joined her in bed.
Louisa continued to twitch and shiver long after he had settled at her side and his deep, even breathing told her that he was asleep. She squirmed trying to find the most comfortable position and then sighed and accepted the fact that, for tonight at least, comfort was not going to be her companion. Her body still ached with both pain from her birching and the intense throbbing of unreleased lust. She’d never felt more dominated, more aware of who owned her… body and soul… as she had under him tonight. Every thrust, every lick, suckle and bite that drove her to the precipice and every moment he paused, refusing to allow her to topple into the abyss, staying his own completion to provide her yet another lesson proved he had remarkable control.
Her mind whirled round and round his promises of new rules that were to begin immediately. She thought of her sister and the realization that her twin would soon learn that Louisa was not truly the Lady of Wintercrest. While she held the proper title, she wasn’t the mistress of his house. She was really nothing more than Edward’s child bride and had absolutely no power over anyone. A single tug on the ropes above her head had her admitting the irony that she’d been robbed of the power over her own self.
Edward turned in his sleep and his hand moved to cup itself around her breast. Louisa felt her body respond as her nipple immediately hardened, her pussy leaping for an instant before accepting the fact that it would find nothing to fill it. Louisa flushed anew and finally dropped into sleep, praying he would find her suitably behaved on the morrow, and allow her to find the pleasure he’d repeatedly denied her today.
Chapter 16
Lucille was up early the next morning. She had already stripped off her nightgown and pulled on her stockings and drawers and was tying the ribbons of her second petticoat when a knock sounded on the door and it was pushed open. She looked to see Molly enter and quickly close the door behind her.
“Good morning, miss,” Molly said. “I’ve come to help you with your bath.”
Lucy shook her head and reached for the corset she had laid on her bed. “I’m not bathing this morning, Molly. You may help me finish dressing.” Molly wrung her hands and glanced behind her at the closed door. Lucy watched her, puzzled by her behavior.
“I’m sorry, miss, but Mrs. Bremmer has sent up water for your bath.”
Lucy looked at the door and said, “I’m not bathing today, Molly. You may send the water away.”
Molly shook her head and stepped closer to Lucy and lowered her voice as if more than the two of them occupied the room and she didn’t wish to be overheard. “Please, Miss Lucy, you must have a bath. Mrs. Bremmer said—”
“Molly, I don’t give a fig what Mrs. Bremmer said. I don’t wish to bathe today and that is the end of it. Now, help me into my corset and dress.”
Molly didn’t move to take the garment from her mistress. Instead, she took a deep breath and then confessed, “You must bathe, Miss Lucy. If you don’t, well, please, miss, let the lads fill your tub.”
Lucy finally took a good long look at the young serving girl. She noticed that Molly’s face was flushed, she continued to wring her hands together, and her eyes were wide and frightened. Lucy again looked toward the door and lowered her voice as well. “What’s wrong, Molly? Is Mrs. Bremmer outside the door?”
Molly shook her head. “No, Miss Lucy, but she has given me instructions to bathe you this morning. If you refuse and I don’t… don’t obey, then…” Her voice trailed off.
“If I don’t, what will happen, Molly? Tell me the truth immediately. Why are you so frightened?”
Lucy watched the maid brush a tear she’d been unable to contain away from her cheek. “Mrs. Bremmer is… isn’t known to be lenient when we don’t obey miss.”
Lucy was horrified and despite the comforting kiss she’d been given the night before, she instantly understood what was happening. Remembering the threat of being bent over the kitchen’s work table and having a birch applied to her bare posterior, Lucy knew that the housekeeper was using her power to reaffirm her position—not only over the staff, but over what should be a respected member of the household.
Molly reached out and grasped Lucy’s arm. “Please, miss, she is horrid with the birch. Please, let me bathe you.”
Lucy sighed heavily, knowing that if she refused, her friend would pay the price and, most likely, Lucy’s bottom would also find itself bared and spanked. She patted Molly’s hand and said, “Very well, Molly. Hand me my robe and then let the lads in.”
Molly wiped her tears away, and then nodded gratefully as she hurried to the wardrobe. She brought the quilted satin dressing gown to her mistress and helped her into it. After Lucy was modestly covered, Molly opened the door and motioned for the half-dozen kitchen lads to enter the room. The young men kept their eyes averted from where Lucy stood, as they went into the small room adjacent to her bedchamber and poured their buckets into the waiting tub. They left just as quickly, and Molly closed the door once again.
Once in the bathroom, Lucy surrendered herself to Molly’s care and allowed the girl to remove the long gown and the clothing she had only put on a few moments before. As Molly untied the ribbon on her drawers, Lucy covered her hand and said, “I can do it, Molly
.” Molly lifted her eyes and sadly shook her head.
“I must undress and bathe you, Miss Lucy. It is Mrs. Bremmer’s wish.” She saw her friend’s face flush, and hurried to say softly, “Please don’t feel ashamed, mistress. We, I mean I, I know you were punished last evening. I understand, and I promise you, I won’t speak of it.”
Lucy was more ashamed than she had ever been before in her life. Hearing her servant inform her that it was a known fact she’d been punished, and the staff had obviously heard her cries and pleas for mercy during her birching caused her to relive the horrid punishment in her mind. Closing her eyes, she released Molly’s hand, and felt her drawers being lowered. She stepped out of them and into the tub, swiping a tear from her cheeks.
“Oh, Miss Lucy, don’t cry. You have nothing to be ashamed of. We’ve all been under the birch, and though it is dreadful, you have been punished and paid the price of whatever you did that earned you the correction.”
Lucy nodded and despite herself, soon relaxed in the warm water as Molly picked up a rag, lathered it and began to bathe her mistress. The girls were silent as the bath continued, and it wasn’t until Lucy stepped from the tub to be wrapped in a thick towel, that she heard Molly’s indrawn breath as she got her first full view of her mistress’ backside. “Oh, Miss Lucy, your poor, poor bottom. I wish I could rub some salve on your welts… it isn’t much, but it does seem to help a little.”
Lucy’s face lit up briefly but her hopes fell when Molly began to dry her carefully.
“I have been forbidden, though. You are not to be given any comfort, and for that I am so very sorry.”
Lucy’s face flamed anew, but she said nothing as she was dried. Molly took extreme care in dressing Lucy, and was gentle as she brushed her hair and soon had it braided. When she was ready to leave the room, Lucy found her voice.
