by Allison West
Charley wanted to take notes about the inside of Ashby for his potential story, but instead silently intended to memorize every detail: notes would come later. The headmaster would not be pleased, but didn't London have a right to know what lay just outside the city? A taboo establishment where wealthy families sent their daughters to school? This story was almost too good to be true.
His hand fell on the doorknob, and he pushed the door open. The wood squeaked as he entered, alerting everyone of his presence. Charley shut the door behind him. He wanted to call Eliza over, ask her why she had been naughty, but thought it best to speak with her caretaker. It was clear she was facing a punishment, and he did not want to interfere in the necessary discipline that she required.
Her reddened cheeks had ceased to dull and her head turned, glancing back at him. Eliza's eyes widened and she gasped before shoving her nose back in the corner.
Charley smiled, quite pleased that he had some effect on the young woman, even if it was minimal. He strode toward the nannies, glancing at the woman with red paint splattered on her gown. He thought it best to introduce himself and held out his hand. "My name is Mr. Charley Lockwood."
The older woman with gray hair raised an eyebrow. Her brown gaze stared right up at him from the chair she sat in. "Does Headmaster Philip know you are in here, sir?"
Charley nodded. "Yes, of course. I signed the papers this morning. Miss Stead is my betrothed."
"I feel sorry for you," another nanny muttered under her breath.
The woman with the red paint on her gown stood and offered her hand. "My name is Nanny Agnes. I am responsible for little Eliza. We had a bit of a difficult morning, but I expect she will be on her best behavior in your presence. Have you two met?"
He shook the woman's hand. "Yes, we met briefly. Do you think I might be able to have a word with her in private?"
Nanny Agnes sat back down. "I am sorry, but private time is a reward for a little, not a guarantee, and with the way little Eliza has behaved this morning, she will not be getting any time alone with her papa for the next few days." The woman made certain that Eliza could overhear their conversation.
Charley could not believe she had acted out—and for what reason? "May I talk to her?" He wanted to know why she had behaved with such apparent disregard for her nanny or her papa's feelings. Even if she had not intended to hurt him, she had.
Nanny Agnes glanced at the clock on the wall. "Yes, her time out is over. Little Eliza, please come over here."
Eliza dropped her hands, allowing the dress to fall back down around her knees before she stalked over with red eyes and wet cheeks. Her bottom lip protruded as she pouted. "I am sorry, Nanny Agnes. I will not act that way again."
The older woman nodded. "You are right. There will be no paints for you or any other little for the next week."
"That is not fair," little Clara whined as she rushed to Eliza's side.
"Oh, but I think it is. Was it not your idea all along?"
"You tattled?" Clara gasped, pointing her finger at Eliza.
Nanny Agnes frowned. "She did not have to tattle. I heard the entire plan, and I must say that I am disappointed in you girls. I should punish Clara as well, but I want you to move past your mistake. No more acting out for attention, is that clear?"
Clara and Eliza both nodded.
Agnes headed for the door. "Come, little Eliza. We shall get you changed out of that stained gown. Eliza's papa, would you like to join us?"
"Yes, very much." He tried to contain his excitement. The thought of watching her disrobe was not only highly inappropriate, but also stirred his cock in his trousers. Would he get to see her burned bottom again? He desired to explore all of her body, from her cherry lips down to her toes.
Charley followed them from the playroom and down the hall. Two doors down, on the left, Nanny Agnes opened the door to the little's bedroom. The nursery room was about the same depth as the playroom, but only half as wide, and the décor was far different. Lavender curtains and wallpaper with purple and pink stripes adorned the walls. The room was sunny, with the afternoon light cascading in through the windows. The bed sat to the right and across from it on the opposite wall were a wooden dresser and armoire.
It was not the type of bedroom he would have designed in his home, except perhaps if he had a daughter. Charley had no children. His desire for a companion had grown as his sister grew older and better able to fend for herself. She certainly had not found a husband to take care of her, but she was able to cook and clean the house, making the place presentable. It was not so much that she needed to attend the finishing school to round off her education, as the opportunities that would be available to her. She had not the means to meet a fine gentleman who would consider marrying her, and with Ashby Chateau's name behind her, it would make her desirable to many more men.
Charley knew little of Eliza's upbringing. She had been betrothed to a man who had left her without so much as a goodbye. What type of gentleman did that? Charley felt for Eliza, and a part of him considered using the story of her ruined betrothal as the backdrop for the article he intended to submit to the paper. His boss would love it, and with a flashy headline like Little Secret, Big Scandal, it would create more opportunities for him at the Daily Times.
"Close the door," Nanny Agnes commanded, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Charley reached behind him to shut the nursery door. He smiled warmly at Eliza only to see her fold her arms, pouting as she turned her back on him.
"I do not want him in here," Eliza said.
Had he done something to offend her?
"You do not get a choice, little Eliza. Mr. Charley is your new papa. Now come here so I can loosen the ribbons on your dress." Nanny Agnes snapped her fingers at the young woman, hurrying her along.
Eliza strode across the room and turned to allow Nanny Agnes to undo her gown, her back to Charley at all times.
The reflection in the window was hardly visible as she lifted her arms and allowed her nanny to remove the dress. He desired her to turn around, to bare herself to him, but she did not so much as glance in his direction. She seemed angry, though he could not fathom what he had done to upset her. He had returned as intended, and paid for her tuition to continue her time at Ashby. Was that why she was angry with him? Did she wish to return home to her father?
"May I have a moment with little Eliza?" Charley asked.
"You may speak while I am here. I will not repeat anything that is said," Nanny Agnes replied, assuring him of her silence. Eliza's white stockings too had been soaked with paint, and her caretaker bent down, helping the young woman out of the stained material.
He sighed and stepped closer. Her white bloomers hid the redness that covered her bottom. Her back was bare and he longed to stroke her smooth creamy skin, feeling the warmth of her body. Instead, he kept his hands at his sides. It was clear she was not ready, and he was not one to force himself on a young woman, even if they were betrothed. The papers he had signed were a formality. It was obvious to him that she did not and would not trust him. Why would she? They hardly knew one another, and the last gentleman who had enrolled her decided to leave without notice. She deserved to be angry, but not at him.
"Do you want to be here?" Charley asked. He remained behind her, wanting her to face him, but he would not force her until another gown had been cinched tight and her breasts were hidden from view. His cock throbbed, as hard as he tried to resist, but he ignored the pain for one that hurt far worse. He felt as though he desired a young woman he could not have. Perhaps he was better off spending his time writing the story. Then they would both win. She could leave, and he would have his piece in the paper.
"Yes," Eliza said, her voice soft and calm. "Why do you ask?"
Nanny Agnes retrieved an ivory gown with black trim from the armoire. "Hands up," her nanny instructed, guiding the girl's arms and head through the dress, pulling it down. The hemline rested at Eliza's knees. Agnes cinched the rib
bons tight, forming a bow in the back before she pointed at the bed. "Go and sit. I need to fetch you a fresh pair of stockings."
Eliza stalked to the bed and sat down. She did not say a word, sitting poised at the edge, her legs dangling. Her head stayed bent down, just enough to refuse meeting her papa's stare. Why would she not look at him?
"You do not seem happy, little Eliza. If I cannot make you happy, then perhaps returning back to your home would be a more beneficial solution for you," Charley said. The tuition cost quite a lot, but regardless of that, he did not desire to see her upset. Besides, he much rather wished to know if there was any chance of anything further developing between them. Yes, he did not expect love to find its way straight into his heart like a blazing arrow, but he did desire to find love that was not unrequited.
"Please, do not do that," Eliza said. Her eyes were wide and, as she glanced up with her bright green eyes, he stepped forward. Her dark brown locks fell into her face. He pushed the hair away, finding a small sense of satisfaction in the touch he bestowed upon her. It was not much, but it did not have to be to swell his heart. What the hell was wrong with him? She was beautiful, no doubt, but being in her presence was bewitching.
"Then you wish to remain at Ashby. If that is the case, then I am your papa and you will address me as such."
Nanny Agnes cleared her throat. "Perhaps Eliza needs a bit of time to come to terms with Preston leaving. She had been betrothed to him since she was a child. It is quite a bit of a shock—the change, I mean. I am sure she will be pleased about your desire to marry her, once she has had time for the news to settle in a bit."
Why was the nanny speaking up for Eliza? If Preston had cared for her, then why had he left the girl without paying her tuition? Had he even said goodbye? Had that been why she was crying when they had first met and laid eyes on one another? The past, her life before him—none of it mattered. He wanted to get to know Eliza, it was why he had paid the fees for her to remain at Ashby.
Nanny Agnes retrieved a set of white stockings and brought them over to the bed, sliding them up the young woman's legs, one at a time. Eliza glanced up at Charley. "Preston disappointed me, Mr. Lockwood, and I fear you have done the same."
How had he upset her? He walked closer to the bed, desperate to know what he had done wrong. "Tell me what ails you, little Eliza." He was not going to walk away without answers. He had come to visit her, and had expected to see her happy and thrilled that she had someone who would care for her. Instead, she seemed angry that he had shown his face at Ashby. What had changed since he last saw her? In the hall, just yesterday, she'd seemed pleased to make his acquaintance again. Had he imagined the smile and carefree nature of her attitude?
Her nose scrunched up as she pointed at him. "I saw you with another girl. You cannot have two little ones. It is not proper."
What was she talking about? He had not been with any other little but her. Charley opened his mouth only to hear her scold him again.
"Do not lie to me."
He had no intention of lying. What girl had he been with in the littles' wing? He had brought in his sister, was that what she was referring to? "Are you talking about Leona?" he said.
"I hate her name even more than I hate her!" Eliza spat.
"Eliza," Nanny Agnes warned. "Watch the way you speak, little one."
"No! I hate her, and no matter what you say or do, I will never accept him having two littles. I want to be the only one that matters! Christ!" She said the words with so much venom, her body nearly shook.
He cleared his throat. "Eliza, let me—"
She put her hand up to interrupt him. "I do not wish to hear another word. Get out of my room, now!"
"You are about to get another spanking, young lady. That is not how you speak to your future papa!" Nanny Agnes's face turned a light shade of red, and her jaw clenched. "Apologize this instant, or else."
"I will not!" Eliza spat back.
Nanny Agnes shook her head. "Tsk. Tsk. Roll over, little Eliza. That is not how a little or a young lady speaks or behaves. You were warned, and you chose poorly."
"Please, no." Eliza's voice grew higher with a sense of urgency. "I'm sorry. I am sorry!" She looked at Nanny Agnes with pleading eyes and then quickly at Charley. "I will refrain from being so atrocious. I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation Mr. Lockwood has for me. I should have controlled my temper."
When Eliza had not moved onto her stomach fast enough, Nanny Agnes flipped the girl around and pulled her bloomers down past her knees. She was bent over the bed, her cunny hovering above the edge, her bottom pushed out, still red from her earlier spanking.
Charley wanted to pepper her bottom himself after all the insults she had directed at him. "I should be the one responsible for correcting her behavior," he said. He knew this was intended to teach her not to make the same mistake again, but another part of him wanted to see and feel his hand against her bottom, listening to the sound as his palm landed on her bare skin. He was not one to cause pain to another, except when it was absolutely necessary for discipline.
Nanny Agnes stepped aside. "Please, by all means. I shall take the laundry down to be washed, and change my own outfit. Can you handle little Eliza if I am gone for ten minutes?"
He did not correct the nanny to remind her that he was not supposed to be alone with her charge. After all, Eliza had not earned papa time alone for good behavior. In fact, it had been quite the opposite that had seemed to result in time together, though ten minutes was not long.
"That was my sister you were insulting," Charley informed Eliza. His voice was thick and heavy as his hand landed firmly on her bottom with no delay.
Little Eliza jumped the moment his hand smacked her bum.
"Ow!" she squealed, her toes rising on the floor and her hands moved to cover her rear, protecting herself from further punishment.
He was not going to allow her discipline to be over already. If he did, how would she learn from her mistakes? "Put your hands above your head." His breath tickled her neck as he leaned down, moving her hands, placing them on the plush mattress. "Do not move," he warned, bringing his hand back down to her bottom.
Smack.
Her hips jumped and her toes pushed up, moving her backside slightly higher. Had she intended to give him better access to her splotched red cheeks, or was she merely trying not to move but finding the task impossible? He had never had the opportunity to spank anyone before, and though he would not have thought it arousing, he soon discovered he was wrong.
Her bottom had been put on display especially for him. With Nanny Agnes having shut the door, leaving them alone, he desired not only to spank her bottom but also to touch and taste the sweet cream that dripped from her cunny. Ten minutes. He did not think he could fully enjoy both in such a short span of time without getting caught. Not that it would produce a scandal, he was protected by the paperwork he had signed. She was not to give up her virtue until she was married, but he could explore her body as he taught her to submit entirely to him.
Charley did not wish to think of her former betrothed and whether he had shoved his face between her thighs. However, it was difficult not to wonder if her first orgasm would be with him, or whether it had already been with another man.
His hand came down repeatedly, smacking her bottom from the curve all the way down to where she sat. He did not desire to bruise or blister her rear, and she was already so wet. Charley could see the glistening wetness between her folds. Had he aroused her with his strict, heavy-handed discipline?
She whimpered and gasped, moaning from either pain or pleasure, he could not tell which by the sounds, though based on the swelling of her cunny as he spread her legs further apart, he suspected she was aroused.
"You will learn that I do not appreciate being treated with disrespect, little Eliza. When I told you to call me 'Papa', that name was exclusively for your use. I cannot undo whatever wrongs have been done by another, but I can promise never
to disappoint you."
He smacked up against her cunny, hearing her sharp gasp as her legs slammed shut, capturing his hand as her hips began to thrust.
"You may come when I tell you," he said, leaning closer, his breath tickling her neck as her legs unclenched and his fingers dove into her wetness, stroking her folds and the fire between her thighs. "I want you to learn to trust me, little Eliza." He had her best interests in mind, by disciplining her, and rewarding her for submitting to him.
She nodded, her head turned and eyes squeezed shut. She kept her hands above her head, her fingers tangled in the pillow, gripping and tugging at the downy material under her grasp. Eliza's lips parted and her breathing came out deeper and heavier as his fingers caressed the folds of her quim, teasing her clit, circling the swelling pearl.
Nanny Agnes would return soon. He needed to be quick and finish pleasuring his little Eliza. He stroked her wetness, feeling her swell under his ministrations as her insides began to clamp down, clenching onto his digits. He thrust his fingers in a 'come here' motion, as her hips ground into his palm. His other hand came up to smack her reddened bottom, gaining a gasp as she trembled against his palm, gasping, and moaning.
"Do you want to come, my little one?"
She nodded in response.
"Answer me in the proper way," he commanded as he pumped his fingers in deeper and harder.
She moaned and thrust her hips to meet the motion of his hand. "Yes, please," she barely whispered.
"Yes, please, what?" He stopped moving his fingers and slowly began to pull out as a punishment for not answering properly.
Thrusting her hips back in to force his fingers in deeper, she cried, "Please, Papa. Please make me come."
