A Thief for the Duke

by Megan Michaels

  “I see you staring at my…the Duke’s mother’s music box. The story goes she’d been gifted with it as a child this from a visiting diplomat from China who had come to her father’s castle. “Would you like to hear it?”

  “Yes…Sir. I’d love to. It’s very beautiful.” With mincing steps, she tentatively walked up to the table.

  William’s long, thin fingers fastidiously manicured with flat wide nail bed, gripped the edge of the lid pushing it gently up, gold chains on either side of the lid as well as gold hinges kept it open. The inside was sparkling with shiny long tines that played perfectly in tune with the slowly spinning, nubbed cylinder bumping each tine in rhythm with Mozart’s Requiem.

  Leaning forward, Ettie stood on her toes to peer further into the box finding a small mirror at the bottom so you could see the machination from all sides. “It’s…spectacular.” Her words came out breathy, and she swore she’d never seen anything so beautiful as this. She’d heard of these magical music boxes and now having seen one, she added it to her long list of things she’d love to own.

  Someday.

  The swish of material and the quick patter of soft soled shoes on the stairs to her right startled her. Swiveling her head away from the enchanting music she watched a heavy set woman with a tight bun on the back of her head, wearing a starched black dress, accented with a white apron at her waist, and the large woman descended the stairs quickly and was surprisingly light on her feet for someone of her size.

  The music ceased with a snap of the cover. William cheerfully shouted, “Matilda! How are you? Come there’s someone you need to meet.”

  Stepping forward, Matilda let her gaze roam over Ettie from the top of her head to her poorly shoed feet. Crossing her arms over her chest, Ettie wished she could hide herself and the unkempt rags she wore. She kept her gaze on the floor not wishing to see any further assessment or possible disgust on the woman’s face.

  “Eyes up, girl. This is to be your nanny while you’re here. She’ll care for your personal needs, watching over you when you aren’t under my careful supervision. You have nothing to fear from Miss Matilda unless of course, you’ve misbehaved. Then, of course, you’ll be wishing for one of my spankings instead. Both of these people,” He waved his arm toward both Randall and Matilda, “You’re to listen to and respect them. You’ll be a very sorry girl if you do not, rest assured that this is an understatement.”

  “B-but, I don’t need help or care. I’m a grown woman and have been taking care of myself since I was sixteen.”

  “How old are you now, Henrietta? Because you don’t appear to be very old, and being so petite makes you seem much younger, I’m sure.” His eyebrows were raised waiting for her response.

  “I’m eighteen. I just turned so the month before Christmas. My parents died when I was sixteen, and I’ve been on my own since then. So these people?” She mimicked the waving of his arm indicating Randall and Matilda. “I don’t need them or the services they provide.” She blinked at the man, grinding her teeth, and then thought she better add a show of respect to the end of her declaration to keep him happy. “Sir.”

  William inhaled deeply through his nose, his nostrils flaring, his dark hair groomed perfectly, not a hair out of place. Although the man was tall and thin, his chest filled his suit coat—broad and muscled, even though she couldn’t see under the material, the bulging pecks made the vest tight across him.

  His green eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, dropping his voice. “You see, moppet. This is where we have a problem. But it is my summation it’ll be cleared up quickly with some quick and stern intervention. I tell you what you’ll be doing—when, how, and by whom. You’ll follow these directives with perfection or suffer the consequences of your dalliances and disobedience.”

  He stopped to pinch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up. “When I tell you that your nanny will be bathing you at four o’clock, you’ll be ready to climb those stairs at exactly that time. And when I assure you that both Randall and Matilda are to paddle or punish you any way they deem appropriate, you’ll drop your drawers and submit to their spanking with nary a word or sound, except for your pleading and tears, of course. Are we clear on this now?”

  “B-but—”

  “Shall we start with a spanking before you’re sent to bathe with your new nanny?” He slipped his suit coat off, handing it to Randall without even looking his way, keeping a steady gaze on Ettie.

  Her stomach flipped, butterflies swirling within her. “N-no, Sir. I don’t want a spanking.”

  He smirked at her. “Wise decision, girl. Matilda will bathe you now, you’ll give her no trouble, or you’ll be standing for dinner. Now off with you.”

  “Come along. Step brightly, Henrietta. Dinner will be served before you know it and by the looks of ya, I’ve got me work cut out for me.” With a forceful shove to her back, Ettie was pushed toward the staircase, and as she climbed them, Matilda’s heavy hand would smack Ettie’s backside, forcing her to climb them more lively than she normally would have.

  Ettie heard Randall address William downstairs, “Sir, are you ready for your brandy in the den by the fire?”

  “I swear I’ve been waiting to hear that damn phrase all day. Yes, Randall, please.”

  Chapter Five

  Ettie looked around at the huge bedroom she’d been rudely pushed into, and swore the whole of her little house could have fit in this room. “Who’s room is this…ma’am?”

  The Matilda’s meaty hands pulled the tattered dress over her head, tossing it aside ruthlessly, and she only paused long enough to stare at Ettie blinking silently. “Why your room, of course. Why would I bring you in here to strip ya naked if it weren’t?”

  “I-I don’t know, but it’s…” She attempted pivoting to look around her room, only to have her outer thigh slapped—hard—by Matilda. Startled Ettie’s hand clenched into fists at her side, fighting the urge to punch the woman in the nose

  “Don’t even think about it, girl, I’ll blister your arse.” Matilda didn’t even bother to undo the worn and threadbare tie at the waist of Ettie’s drawers, she just ripped them from her thin rail body, tossing the frayed drawers onto a heap with her dress.

  “You ripped them!”

  “Yes. I did.” Struggled “Me rags in the kitchen are in better condition than these. Besides, you won’t be wearing any drawers for a while. Now move!”

  Matilda slapped Ettie’s left buttocks sharply, causing her to bunny hop into the hallway, tucking her backside away from any further attention but then having no idea which way she should turn in the vast house.

  “Follow me to the water closet. I’ve drawn you a bath; it’ll soothe your red bottom and relax your nerves, you poor flittermouse. It appears Sir William has spanked yer wee backside.” She stopped to wag her finger under Ettie’s nose. “He may look a dandy, but you’ll learn he’s not a man to be trifled with.”

  Covering her breasts with one arm, and cupping her plump pussy with her hand, she scurried trying her best to keep up with Matilda, feeling nothing but blessed relief when they entered a room only a couple of doors down. Ettie had never felt so exposed in her life.

  “Put your limbs into the water, girl before it gets cold. I had Randall put scalding water in before you came so that it wouldn’t get chilly, but we must hurry before you catch your death of cold.”

  Teetering on one foot, she raised her leg slowly dipping it into the still scorching water. “Ow!”

  “Stop your caterwauling, and get in there girl. By the looks of ya, the biggest problem you have is remembering what a bath feels like. Sit on your cupid, and let me wash you!”

  Matilda ran her soapy hands over her face, neck, and arms, reaching for a cloth to rub the suds into her skin, wiping away the dirt and grime away. She scrubbed until her skin was pink and felt chafed.

  “Now to wash your dairy. Considering how thin you are, your breasts are pretty large. It should make finding a man e
asy for you with the right dresses to show off these fine kettle drums.” The woman tugged and pulled on her nipples, and Ettie tried pushing her hands away, the embarrassment almost more than she could handle.

  “I’m not looking for a husband, and I don’t need you to wash me dairy!”

  “Girl, you better watch that sauce box of yours, I have a nice bar of soap that’d fit perfectly between those lips. Is that what you want to be doing and ruining your lunch with the taste on your tongue?”

  When Ettie opened her mouth to respond, Matilda jammed her sudsy finger into her mouth quickly coating her tongue, before shutting and holding her mouth shut. The gag reflex in the back of Ettie’s throat began, and her stomach threatened to heave, her body spasming.

  Matilda’s rough voice seemed way too loud for the small room. “Breathe through your nose. I’ll not have you ruining this tub of water.”

  Not wishing to vomit either, Ettie took a deep, shaky breath through her nostrils, the retching immediately suppressed. She wished she could say the same about the vile taste of lavender in her mouth. At that moment, Ettie vowed to never sass the old woman again. Her eyes filled with tears, feeling very tired and pathetic, and a bit forlorn at the plight of her near future.

  She’d never been a bad girl as a child or teen. Yes, she’d been spanked by both parents, and suffered from their ire on more than one occasion, but she didn’t have a litany of punishments in her memory like some of her friends. She could count on one hand a number of discipline sessions she’d been through, and none of them included soap. Ever. And if she had anything to say about it, she’d never go through it again either.

  “Think you’ll keep that mouth of yours shut and do as you’re told?”

  Ettie nodded her head, her chin quivering between the woman’s fingers.

  “Spit it out into the tub, and clear it with some water.” Normally Ettie would have been mortified to drink her own bath water, but today she’d gladly drink it just to wash away the loathsome lye. Her tongue and throat burned.

  “Now that your lesson has been taught, stand up so I can wash your muff and nightflower.”

  “N-no. Please, ma’am.” She’d been washing her privates for years, her chest constricted. She could not…would not stand up and let her…do that. Ettie shook her head vigorously.

  “Wrong answer. Up. Now.” Matilda growled out her the order, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips thinned.

  And although Ettie knew she needed to move, and quickly, she sat in the warm water, bracing herself, gripping the edge of the tub white knuckled, and barely breathing.

  With a force that surprised her, Matilda yanked Ettie out of the tub, her feet struggling to find purchase on the slippery bottom of the claw foot tub. And with the strength of a man, Matilda, steadied her, before wrapping an arm around her waist, bending her slightly, and then furiously began slapping her wet bottom.

  “It hurts doesn’t it?” The wet smacks echoed off the marble walls, the pain at first stealing her breath with the ferocity, and then immediately followed by Ettie’s screeches filling the small room.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Keening loudly, her hands reached back to cover her hindend, the searing pain spreading from mid thigh to the crest of her behind.

  “It was pure defiance. You knew what was expected and ya dared to challenge me.”

  The slaps continued on the crest of her bottom and her feet danced in the shallow water of the tub. “I’m s-sorry.”

  “I’m betting you are.” Matilda’s hand halted its march up and down her ass, and the woman’s chest heaved with her breathing. “Now put your hands on your head, and I’ll wash your muff.”

  Closing her eyes to the degradation, the butterflies fluttering within her with fear and wary anticipation of her roughness.

  Her new nanny shampooed the light blonde pelt of fur on her pussy, taking great pains to wash every bit of hair, her fingers taking care to wash the creases between her pouch and her thighs. Scooping water with her hands, Matilda rinsed the area, completely.

  “Pull the lips of your quim apart.”

  The tears fell unbidden down her cheeks, and Ettie pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, hoping to keep any sobs from escaping. The indignity of it all.

  “Such pretty ruffles. We’ll clean the petals for your new headmaster.” Her thighs trembled expecting her brutal cleansing of the sensitive furls.

  “Wait. I…I’m not a dollymop to be taken by a man at a brothel for a good prigging. I’m a virgin.”

  Matilda’s finger slipped into her channel, swirling in her depths, cleaning her entrance thoroughly. “I didn’t call ya a dollymop, did I? I assumed you were a virgin, why else would he bring you to the castle? Master William isn’t one to use his tallywag in any whore pipe, girl. He’s a classy man, and one many women have fought over. You’re a lucky girl to have him taking an interest in ya, don’t be forgettin’ it neither.”

  Whether Master Williams was one to frequent a brothel or not was none of her concern, but her immediate concern was that she not be violated while residing here. She’d spent the past two years fighting to preserve herself and wouldn’t lose it to that…that pompous ass.

  A slap to her bottom, had her jumping, grabbing the whole of the offended buttocks in her hand.

  “Bend over so I can clean your rosebud.”

  Ettie did as she’d been commanded, gripping the rounded edge. The burning in her anus had her clenching her insides finding no relief from the sting of what she assumed was her large finger inserted within her.

  Clucking loudly, Matilda said, “Where’s me brush. We need to turn this little pucker pink again. Has no one taken care of you girl?”

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, ma’am.”

  “And it’s a sad thing too. A girl as pretty and sweet as you needs to be cared for and cherished. That’ll be taken care of soon, you wait and see.” The soft bristles tickled her sphincter, and she fought the urge to waggle her ass in response.

  She’d taken care of herself for so long; she forgot what it was like to be cared for…and the prospect of being cherished soothed her. Having taken care of every aspect of her daily life had grown cumbersome, and the weariness impossible on many levels.

  “Sit back down, and I’ll wash your hair. You’ll look like an angel with these beautiful blonde curls clean and combed. You’re a gorgeous woman, Henrietta Beaumont. It seems God smiled upon you today…and Master William as well.

  Chapter Six

  Charles swirled the brandy in his glass, staring into his fireplace, thinking about the trickery of the situation laid before him. A situation he’d orchestrated, and it weighed heavily upon him. But it was the only way to be certain that if she had taken an interest in him that it wasn’t due to his title or wealth. And although the possibility of Ettie falling for him was slight, he’d always been a betting made and wouldn’t miss the chance to win her over.

  He looked over at the stout, wide black belt he’d extracted from his chest of drawers in his suite of rooms. The alcohol and quiet atmosphere were all part of the mental preparation for the mandated punishment of his naughty girl.

  The harshness of the belt and meting out a whipping for stealing didn’t settle well with him at all. But, neither did the prospect of her spending the duration of the summer in prison. Given a choice, the belting was the lesser of the two evils.

  If keeping her warm, fed, and under his thumb and command meant he had to stripe her little arse, then so be it. The disparity between caring for her well-being and thrashing her backside wasn’t lost on him. And neither was the difference between hating to hurt her and being painfully aroused at the thought of disciplining that plump bottom.

  It was then the door to his den creaked open, and a vision walked through looking as angelic as a possible. Ettie had a white nightgown on, the high lace trimmed neck resting just under her chin. Her blonde curls draped in spirals alongside her round face, the length past her shoulders. The l
ong flannel sleeves also trimmed in lace rested at her wrists fastened with small pearled buttons that matched the buttons along the front of the gown. The length ended just below her knees, more than likely showing more ankle than she would have preferred. And the scandalousness of it all excited him.

  But if he knew Nanny Tillie, this had been done purposefully, keeping Miss Henrietta uncomfortable, forcing a modicum of humiliation, aiding in her submission.

  “Come, Henrietta, stand before me.” He unfolded his legs, spreading them wide and setting his drink down on the nearby table.

  Miss Henrietta shuffled slowly toward him wringing her hands in the crisp white flannel gown, her peach areola and nipples faintly visible.

  His cock stirred behind his pants; he cleared his throat doing his best to dispel his sexual fantasies, focusing on the exquisite woman standing before him. Lightly grasping her hand, he gently tucked her between his knees, not letting go of her. He stared up, her azure eyes sparkling in deep contrast to the bright white of her nightie.

  Who would have guessed a bath could transform the little urchin he’d spanked today into this magnificent woman. It made him wonder exactly how long it had been since she’d dipped into some water.

  “Was she a good girl, Miss Matilda?” He tore his attention away from Ettie, fixing his eyes upon the stern nanny he grew up with.

  “Well, she had a moment of sassiness, Sir, but it was nothing for you to worry about or I would’ve called you to handle it. I put a bit of suds on her tongue and spanked her wee wet backside, and she’s been without incident since. She’s a good girl, Master Williams.” Tillie winked at him, obviously enjoying the alias and deception more than he couldn’t have thought.