by Maggie Ryan
“Lucy, hush,” Lucas said as he attempted to calm his wife. “That wasn’t your Cleo, sweetie. Cleo is in her bed on the train. It just looked like your kitten.”
“No! It was her, I know it was her!” Lucy cried and then sobbed harder when she realized the cat had disappeared. Lucas set her on her feet and held her close to him.
“Shh, honey, I’m sure Cleo is safe and sound,” he said soothingly.
“Excuse me, Sir,” a voice said and Lucas looked up to see the porter approaching them. “I was just in your nanny’s compartment to take this opportunity to freshen the kitten’s box. I must say I was a bit surprised when the door was open but I thought perhaps you or Miss Lucy had brought Cleo out to take some air. I’m so sorry but I did not see the kitten.” Lucy sobbed harder, pushing against her husband’s chest, aching to run and find her pet.
“Oh, Lucy,” Molly said as she approached the couple and reached out to take Lucy’s hand.
Lucy slapped Molly’s hand away, the sound sharp in the air as Lucy continued to slap at the poor woman. “Don’t you dare touch me! Damn you, this is your bloody fault!” Lucy spat out, her face turning red with her anger. “It’s your job to take care of her and you should have kept her safe. Now she is gone and I hate you…I hate you!” Lucas was shocked at his wife’s words and accusations. Molly froze where she stood, the words tearing into her heart. Before Lucas could speak, he heard a man laugh and looked up to see the gentleman from the smoking car.
“I told you that your little bride would soon become as appealing as a she-devil. I told you to bed her early while she was sweet and agreeable. Don’t say you weren’t warned that it would become impossible to control her or her little pussy,” the man said, and Lucas instantly stiffened. He tightened his grip on Lucy’s hand as he turned to face the man.
“If I ever hear you disrespect Lady Huntington or any woman with your vulgarity again, Sir, you shall have to answer to me,” Lucas said each word clipped but strongly said and instantly commanding authority.
“And me as well,” Stefan said coming to stand beside Lucas. Not a sound was heard for a moment as the older gentleman understood exactly how serious the two men standing side by side were. He wasn’t a stupid man. He instantly understood he had taken the joke way too far.
Giving Lucas and Stefan a quick bow of his head, he spoke softly, “I meant no disrespect, Sir. I apologize to both you and your wife.” Neither Lucas nor Stefan spoke. The man turned, walking hurriedly towards the opposite end of the train. Lucy’s tantrum had ended the moment the man had spoken. She seemed to only now realize that everyone was looking at her, no longer in sympathy at the loss of her pet but in obvious disapproval of the horrid tantrum she had thrown. Shame at her public behavior began to color her face and then her heart seemed to stop. She looked to see Molly looking very upset, her lips trembling and Lucy remembered slapping her nanny’s hands. Moaning deeply, she suddenly realized that she had been the last person in Molly’s room. Molly had left the reading car with Bertha and had not helped Lucy freshen up for luncheon. Lucas had done so and Lucy remembered she and Emmie running to pet her kitten while waiting for their papas to take them to the dining car. Lord Northbridge had come to the door to get Emmie while Lucy replaced Cleo into her basket. When she had heard her papa calling for her, she had run to him. She realized she didn’t remember if she had closed the door properly but, hearing the porter’s words, understood that she hadn’t. She broke down into fresh sobs, her heart breaking as she felt enormous guilt consume her.
Lucas shook his head knowing how sad his little one was but knew her behavior had been atrocious and totally unacceptable. “Take Lucy to your room, Molly and attend to her. We have a few minutes left and I shall see if I can find Cleo.” Stefan and Mr. Brannon volunteered to help and after the girls had boarded the train with their nannies, the men stepped off the platform to begin their search.
The four women were quiet as they walked through the cars. Emmie was stunned to have witnessed her new friend throwing a tantrum and screaming vulgar words, not only fighting her Papa, but hitting and then accusing her own nanny for losing Cleo. She trembled just imagining the punishment in store for Lucy. Lucy continued to cry, though she no longer fought to release herself from her nanny’s hold. Bertha gave Molly a look of encouragement before leaving them in front of the first room. She was pleased to see Molly nod, her face showing her determination to do her duty. Bertha led Emmie into her Papa’s chambers and prepared the little one for her nap, knowing the young woman’s sleep would probably be a long time in coming if the expected sounds of strict discipline echoed through the train car. She knew that even that disturbance would serve as an unexpected lesson to her own charge. It never hurt for any little child-woman to understand that naughtiness earned quick punishment and usually served to keep the witness more mindful of her own behavior lest she find herself the subject of that discipline. Instead of leaving her charge alone, Bertha returned to her room only long enough to gather her knitting and to say a quick prayer that Molly would remember to be strong.
“Go to sleep, honey,” she said softly returning to find Emmie still awake, her face showing her concern. “I’m sorry for Lucy’s loss but, honey, she was a very, very naughty little girl. Go to sleep and try to dream of happy things.”
Emmie felt guilty and broke into tears. Bertha sat on the bed, holding the small woman as Emmie told her that Miss Molly couldn’t have let Cleo escape as Lucy had been the last one in the room. Bertha shook her head and prayed that Lucy had the sense to confess herself before the truth was discovered.
“Shh, now, Emmie. It doesn’t concern you. Lucy’s Papa will take care of it. Dry your tears and try to sleep. Everything will be all right when you wake up,” Bertha promised, wiping Emmie’s face and settling her beneath the covers again. Emmie sniffled but stopped crying as she prayed that Cleo would be found and then added a prayer that she could be deeply asleep by the time Lord Huntington returned to attend to his naughty little one.
Chapter 8
Molly didn’t speak as she removed Lucy’s pinafore, dress, petticoats, shoes and stockings leaving her standing in only her thin, short chemise and her drawers. Lucy was trembling with guilt and didn’t make a single protest as she was undressed. She had never in her life felt more awful than she did at this moment. She watched as Molly picked up her hairbrush and took a seat on the narrow bed.
“Come here,” Molly said as she tried to control her emotions. Lucy’s words had cut her to the quick but she couldn’t feel anger as she truly hurt for Lucy’s loss of Cleo. Though she didn’t understand how it could have happened, she knew the kitten meant the world to her young charge. Lucy began to sob, her face buried in her hands, making no move towards the bed.
“Lucy, don’t make this any harder than it is going to be,” Molly said. “Come to me.” Lucy shuffled towards the bed and allowed her arm to be taken. However, before Molly could bend her over her knees, Lucy began to twist away, managing to break Molly’s hold. Molly reached for her but Lucy stepped away, both hands now held out as if to ward off some horrible threat. She saw the hurt on Molly’s face and sobbed harder even as she attempted to speak.
“Wait!” Lucy gasped and then seemed unable to breathe. Molly watched in horror as Lucy sobbed and then choked, and realized the girl was not being defiant. Lucy was not a stranger to spankings and though she didn’t like them, she had never truly fought her earned discipline. At this moment, though, she appeared to be fighting to simply take in enough air to breathe. Molly dropped the brush and immediately stood, gathering Lucy into her arms, holding her tight.
“Shhh, Lucy, shhh,” she said, her hand stroking down Lucy’s back. “Breathe, sweetheart, just try to breathe. It will be okay. Shhh, shhhh.” Lucy clung to Molly, her tears soaking her uniform. Her chest ached as she attempted to get herself under control. Though it was several minutes later, she was finally able to catch her breath and took several deep breaths before Molly loos
ened her hold and set her slightly away from her. “Better?” Molly asked and was pleased to see Lucy nod.
“Tha… thank you,” Lucy said once she felt she could speak without gasping. “I…oh, Mol…Miss Molly, I am so, so sorry. Please, please forgive me.” Molly knew Lucy was truly sorry as her face showed her anguish so clearly.
“Of course I shall forgive you, Lucy,” Molly said and pulled the girl to her again. Lucy accepted the embrace and even returned it. When Molly felt the tension leaving Lucy’s body, she once more released her. “I’m still going to redden your bottom, Lucille. I know you are sorry for acting so horrible but, honey, as your nanny, it is my job to help teach you never to throw such a tantrum again.” Molly hoped her words would not set off another panic attack but was shocked when Lucy nodded vigorously. Satisfied that her charge understood the need for the chastisement, Molly again walked to the bed and sat, picking up the brush again. She patted her knees fully expecting Lucy to come to her.
Lucy knew she would be spanked but also knew that Molly needed to hear her confession before she used the brush. “It’s my fault,” Lucy said quietly. Molly was about to nod in agreement that Lucy had earned the upcoming spanking all by herself when Lucy shook her head. “I never should have said those things. I…I never should have hit you. I…it was so awful that I cur…cursed at you. It’s my fault, not…not yours. I…I left the door open…it’s my fault that Cleo is gone. Oh, Miss Molly, it’s all my fault!” Lucy confessed and then threw herself into Molly’s arms. Molly dropped the brush to the floor for the second time as she gathered the little woman onto her lap. Lucy clung to her, apologizing again and again, her heart broken from the loss of Cleo as well as from the horrible things she had accused Molly of doing.
Molly gently rocked Lucy in her arms, her hand once more stroking her back as she made soothing sounds in her throat. She understood what had happened and could even imagine how Lucy must have thought Molly had allowed Cleo out of her room by mistake. Neither woman was aware when the train began to move, pulling out of the station. Molly was still holding Lucy tight when her door opened and Lucas stepped inside. Molly gave him a questioning look and was saddened when he slowly shook his head. Neither he, Stefan nor Mr. Brannon had found Cleo. Lucas wasn’t surprised to see the hairbrush on the floor but was a bit surprised to see Lucy being cradled and soothed by the woman she had been so hateful towards. He had fully expected to find his wife with a blazing bottom standing in the corner or bent over the narrow bed, her aching bottom on display. His confusion increased when he looked more closely at his wife realizing she could not present a red, punished rear as it appeared her little bottom had not yet even been bared for any stroke of discipline. Had Molly been unable to bare Lucy’s bottom to fulfill her required duties or perhaps allowed Lucy to retain her drawers during her spanking? Surely the young nanny had seen enough of Lucy’s previous discipline to understand she was always to be bared when her bottom was tended to. His eyebrow lifted as he bent to pick up the brush.
Molly understood his confusion and while she continued to rock Lucy, she explained that she had yet to spank Lucy as the small woman had wished to make a full confession before her spanking. Lucas nodded as Molly proceeded to repeat Lucy’s confession. Lucas took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had been shocked at Lucy’s tantrum but at least could understand why she had reacted the way she did. Though he would never condone her cursing or treating anyone with the disrespect that she had when throwing her tantrum, he had been telling himself that it had all happened because she had lost his gift of Cleo. Hearing Molly’s account of Lucy’s story and discovering that it had been Lucy’s fault, that she had been careless when last playing with her kitten, made him far less sympathetic. Despite the fact that she had indeed lost Cleo, it was time for her to remember that little girls, especially privileged little ladies, did not screech like fishwives, hit and kick at their nanny or curse like sailors fresh off the boats. He was about to speak to that fact when Molly loosened her hold around Lucy and then gently guided her to stand between her knees. Pulling a handkerchief from her apron pocket, she wiped away the tears on Lucy’s cheeks and then held the cloth to her nose.
“Blow, Lucille,” Molly instructed gently and was pleased when Lucy instantly obeyed. Even though Molly knew the poor girl would soon be wailing again, she wanted the first spanking given over her nanny’s lap to be one that was conducted properly with loving but firm guidance. Lucy’s eyes still sparkled with her tears but her breathing was normal, the panic having dissipated with Molly’s comfort. Her face clean, her runny nose taken care of, the miscreant was once more calm and ready to face the spanking she knew she had certainly earned. Lucy had listened to Molly tell Lucas what had really happened and knew that Cleo had not been found.
She turned away from Molly and moved to stand in front of her husband. “Thank you for trying to find Cleo, Papa,” she said quietly. “I…I am so sorry for everything. I…I won’t make a fuss for Miss Molly. May…may I please have my brush?” Lucas silently handed it to her and watched as she pressed her lips to the wooden back of the brush before holding it out to Molly. “I’m so, so sorry, Miss Molly. Please, may…may I have my spanking?” Molly did very well in not showing her surprise. She simply nodded, accepted the brush and laid it beside her. Lucy returned to stand between her nanny’s knees and didn’t fuss or move as the ribbon holding her drawers was loosened. Molly settled herself on the bed and patted her lap. Lucy took a deep breath and then willingly laid herself across her nanny’s lap. Molly adjusted her charge against her until her bottom was perfectly positioned.
Molly ran the palm of her hand over Lucy’s rounded buttocks and then gave a soft pat right in the center. “Lift up your hips, Lucille. Let’s get these pretty drawers down so your little bottom is properly bared for your spanking,” Molly instructed. Lucas heard his wife give a soft moan and saw her face flush as she lifted her hips, allowing her nanny to slowly draw down the soft white fabric of her drawers until her bottom was quite bare. Lucas found himself impressed at the way Molly was conducting the scene and also realized that the bunched fabric directly beneath the small cheeks of his wife’s bare bottom made quite a picture. His wife looked like a small naughty little girl, her thin yet definitely womanly frame draped over her nanny’s lap, the white drawers bunched under the curve of her bottom, the thin chemise covering her torso. Lucas realized that allowing her to remain clothed, except for the specific area of her rounded bottom, made the scene highly erotic. Lucas nodded his approval to Molly.
“When you are done, please bring her to me,” he said quietly.
“Yes, Sir,” Molly said as he left the compartment. He had not opened his own door before he heard the first sharp slap of the brush against Lucy’s bottom. Satisfied that Molly would do her duty, he opened his own door and stepped inside.
Molly did not spare Lucy’s bottom. Slap after slap of the brush connected with her upraised bottom until Lucy was sobbing and kicking her feet.
“Oh…oh…please, Miss Molly, stop…please, no more,” Lucy begged as the brush ignited a fire on her bottom. She had been determined to accept her chastisement without fuss but as the brush continued to take sharp bites out of her bottom, she couldn’t remain still. “I’m so sorry…Please, Miss Molly, stop… I’m…owww!” Molly simply tightened her grip and tilted Lucy over her lap a bit further to force her bottom higher. Lucy was given a small reprieve but only long enough for Molly to push her drawers down to her knees, exposing the backs of Lucy’s thighs. Understanding her intention, Lucy wailed even louder.
“No, please, Nanny, don’t…don’t spank my… owwww!” Lucy’s cries grew in intensity as the brush slapped hard and fast against the very sensitive flesh of her thighs.
“You were a very, very naughty little girl,” Molly began to lecture as the brush continued to fall. “Proper little ladies do not throw tantrums.” The brush peppered down her left thigh and Lucy arched and wailed at the burning fire each str
oke ignited. “Proper little ladies do not hit and kick and scream at their nanny.” The brush moved to assault her right thigh until Lucy was jerking and twisting almost succeeding in tumbling off Molly’s lap. Molly lifted the brush high and slapped it as hard as she could right onto the center of Lucy’s bottom.
“Be still!” she ordered firmly and was pleased when Lucy froze and then collapsed over her knees, finally truly submitting to her punishment, her hands braced on the floor, her legs dropping behind her, her little toes finding the floor. “Proper little ladies definitely do not continue to say vulgar, nasty words,” Molly continued the lecture as well as the spanking, the swats coming fast and furious. “After your Papa tends to this naughty little bottom, I’m going to be filling it up with lots and lots of hot soapy water to teach you what happens to little ladies that like to spill filth from their little mouths.” Lucy wailed at that announcement and then wailed louder when Molly continued. “And, young lady, when your bottom is nice and full, I’m going to take this brush and give this bottom another dose while you hold your medicine and hopefully learn your lesson once and for all.” Molly finished giving the first spanking of the hundreds she would administer throughout the remainder of Lucy’s life. Satisfied that the young woman had no reason to doubt that her former maid would indeed be a firm, very strict yet loving nanny, Molly finally allowed the brush to come to a stop in the center of Lucy’s bottom. After just a few moments, she patted the hot flesh.
“Up now and bend your naughty self over the table,” Molly directed as she helped the punished girl off her lap and pointed to the small table beneath the window. Lucy hobbled to the table, her drawers still around her knees, their white color accentuating the vivid, hot red flesh of Lucy’s thighs and bottom. When Lucy reached the table, she bent forward, the edge of the table pressing against her hips, her torso lying on the surface. “Arms folded across your back, Lucille. Stick that hot fanny well out. You will lie there and think about your naughtiness,” Molly instructed and Lucy did as she was told. Her bottom burned and throbbed but she found her heart pounding knowing that not only did she still have to face her Papa and his dose of discipline; she knew her nanny not only wielded a brush just as purposefully as Mrs. Bremmer but that Molly would not fail to do every single thing she had promised Lucy to expect.
