A Thief for the Duke

by Megan Michaels

  “Tell Agnes and Nanny what my finger is doing, girl.”

  “Oh, no!” She bleated in response.

  With his free hand, he slapped her hip with enough force that he quickly had to brace her with his leg for fear she’d topple over. “That’s not the answer, girl. Again—tell Agnes and Nanny what my finger is doing?”

  Choking on a sob, she quickly replied. “Your finger is in my puckered hole.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “N-No, Sir.” Her chest hitched.

  Poor girl. Charles ignored the tug on his heartstrings. It’d serve no purpose to coddle her, especially with a volatile reaction such as this. This punishment needed to be memorable for the benefit of both parties.

  “When my finger is in your dark hole, it reminds you that I’m in charge. I command, and you obey. If I so desire, I can walk you through the house dragging you with my finger in your little bum. I’ll be kind and gracious to you, girl, that won’t happen today. But I’ll not promise what will happen if you decide to exhibit such impertinence again.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice was small and pitiful, sounding more like a child’s than a grown woman who deserved a harsh punishment for her deeds.

  He slid his large finger through her labia while pumping his other finger in her anus. “You’re sopping wet girl; it seems Miss Henrietta may enjoy a bit of public shaming.”

  “N-no, Sir. I don’t, please. May I rise?”

  “Mmmm. No, not yet.” Exiting from her dark channels, he wiped his fingers on each hip. He quickly adjusted his pants, glad he wore them baggy, not like the tight gas pipe trousers some men wore these days, these at least afforded him some modesty since his erection was undoubtedly obvious to all in the room.

  Backing up a couple of steps, he stared appreciatively at the decadent display before him, wishing he could just plow into her. “I believe further chastisement is required, and more importantly, discipline from your headmaster.”

  “Ohhhhhh, no!”

  “Hush! Reach between your feet and grab the switch, sliding it to me from between your legs.” Her shaky hands pried the stick curing her feet outward to release it from the arches. As instructed, she shoved it between her legs, the stick quivering as much as her body, placing it in his waiting hand. Her pale, rosy skin was now goose bumped on almost the whole of her.

  “You will not throw food.” He swiped the switch across the meatiest part of her buttocks, swiping the plump globes in a forehand and backhand pattern, a snicking rhythm accompanied by her keening wails with each lash of fire drawn out on her trembling backside

  “You will respect Nanny, Agnes, and Randall and be punished for any ill repute. Am I clear?” He had focused the brunt of his swipes now on her sit spots and thighs. Her cries had become a continuous sob.

  “You will be switched for violence of any sort. These stripes will remind you of the consequence for insolence.” He whipped her calves, leaving angry red scratches on the tender muscles, easing the strength dramatically.

  “I’m …s-sor…sooo…sorry…”

  He tossed the switch aside, watching her bawl, her chest heaving with her weeping. Addressing the nanny, Charles whispered, “Tillie can you please grab the healing balm for my girl?”

  Ettie’s sobs had almost ceased, her hiccups breaking the silence in the small kitchen. He stroked her back, running his hands down over her inflamed flesh, hoping to soothe her abraded cheeks. “It’s all over now, moppet. You’ll be a good girl for breakfast now, won’t you?”

  “Y-yes, Sir.”

  He gently unfolded her from her position, turning and drawing her to rest against his chest. Her hair still smelled of lavender from yesterday, he stroked the silky strands, kissing her forehead, murmuring and swaying with her.

  Ettie’s cries renewed, and her small hands fisted his shirt, her tears wetting through to his chest, and he swore they hurt more than if he’d been switched himself.

  Poor girl.

  Toeing a chair away from the table, Charles sat with his girl, easing her gently to straddle his lap, keeping her bottom off his thighs. “That’s a girl. Isn’t that better, your little backside isn’t rubbing.”

  “Yes. B-but…it’s a bit obscene, Master. I mean…my…I’m bare, Sir.” Her face was pink with her blush, and he thought it made her absolutely adorable.

  “Yes, my dear, I’m fully aware.”

  It was then Tillie bustled into the room with the arnica balm. “Here ya be, Master.”

  Thank you, Nanny, and you too Cook. I’m going to take my moppet to her room, rubbing some of this on her bottom and prepare her for a nap. I’ll be down in a bit.”

  “I can do that for you, Sir. It is, after all, me job.”

  “No, I’d like to care for my Ettie and show her I’m not upset with her any longer. She needs to see both sides of me, isn’t that right, my girl?” He tilted her chin up.

  The crystal blue eyes stared intently at him, and she nodded silently, tucking her nose into his neck, and wrapping her legs around his waist when he stood to leave the room.

  He carried the very sore and contrite girl up the stairs, caressing her back as he sauntered down the long hall to their wing. His chest swelled with her quiet submission to his desires, no longer whining or fighting him.

  Opening her door he entered her large suite, the bed made and pillows fluffed by his staff already, depositing her on the bed, she gasped when her backside met the bedspread, and he quickly turned to shut the heavy door, locking it against any unwanted eyes or visitors.

  “Lie on your belly, sweetling, and I’ll rub this cream into your skin.”

  Her eyes widened, but quickly she did as instructed, her red striped rump clenching and unclenching he assumed in anticipation of his actions.

  He carefully and lightly worked the liniment into her scraped skin, and although initially, she would sigh a breathy “ow” or “ouch” after a few swipes, she’d relaxed into the bed, her eyes closing finding relief with the cream.

  “Moppet, I need you to get up. I think it would be best to work it into your stretched flesh, allowing it to seep into all the crevices and scratches from the branch.” He sat on the bed, her naked form standing before him. Her nipples were soft and plump, no doubt warm from resting on the bedspread. He ached to draw the supple, creamy skin into his mouth, suckling her deep. “Straddle my thighs, placing a knee on either side of me, and push your arse out.”

  Her plump, pink lip was between her little teeth, and she hesitated—only briefly—before complying. She paused her breasts were almost eye level in this position, and she looked like she may skitter off his lap, quickly retreating.

  He gripped both her hips, and he swore he wanted to throw her onto her back, rutting her like a wild animal. Clearing his throat, he averted his eyes from her breasts, making direct eye contact with her. “Rest your head on my shoulder, and stick your bum out.”

  Charles cock throbbed incessantly, and his balls ached with the need to release his seed—preferably into her, but truthfully, he didn’t care where his ejaculate ended up, the pain in his bollocks was more than he could bear.

  His large hands cupped a small buttock in each one, massaging and working in the lotion, her small moans almost undoing him every time one would bubble from her throat.

  Those small, firm hips began swaying and rock with his movements, he expertly slipped his finger into her sex while his thumb pressed and teased her hard clit, and her spicy scent filled his nostrils.

  “Jesus, Ettie, you’re so fucking soft…and tight…and sexy.” He nibbled on her earlobe positioned hear his mouth, his tongue dipping into her ear canal, licking the sensitive channel.

  “Oh, William.” She ground herself on his hand, her juices dribbling from her sex, coating him with her excess.

  Undoing his breeches, he slipped his cock out, the hot length of him stiff and hard, bobbing with its new-found freedom. In a very forward manner, Charles pressed his girth between her labia, sliding
along the sheath of her sex.

  “Oh! Oh!” She stiffened pulling away enough to stare shocked into his eyes, but not leaping up to leave either. “I…I’ve never been with a man, Master William.”

  “I assumed, Henrietta. Many your age have you know. There are ways we can …er, play without risking you’ll become with child.” He continued to slide along her plump lips, bumping against her clit.

  “Oh. Oh, bloody hell!” Ettie shuttered her eyes, her cheeks, and chest a rosy pink with her arousal.

  “I’ll ease into you, and then before my seed spills forth, I’ll pull out, spilling my semen into my lap instead, and thereby protecting you.” His finger pumped into her depths, bumping into her hymen, reminding him he’d be the first to take her, which in his mind was okay because he couldn’t imagine her being anyone else’s, she belonged to him.

  Even if she doesn’t know it yet, I do!

  He swirled his finger within her, plying the surface of her innocence. Fishing his finger out, he grabbed the girth of himself, maneuvering the tip into her.

  “Henrietta, I need you to listen sweetheart. When my cock goes all the way in, there will be a pinch, and it will hurt, but kiss me hard to hide your cries. We won’t move until it diminishes, and I promise I’ll have you writhing and screaming in ecstasy shortly. Okay?” He felt his eyebrows raise waiting for her to answer.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “That’s a good girl.” He kissed her on the nose, and he knew there was no need in delaying any further, forestalling would do neither of them any good. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, covering her mouth with his, he thrust upward, breaking the barrier between them, the warmth of her now broken hymen dripping over him.

  She screeched into his mouth, and he gripped her head, shoving his tongue into her mouth, exploring every bit of her, until her breathing resumed and she grabbed his head frantically, delving her tongue into him as well. Her hips slowly moved, and she lifted minutely, bobbing over his hard-as-steel member.

  Charles smiled to himself, pleased to see his girl so brave and resilient, he expected no less. She was ready for more. He pushed into her, slowly thrusting, guiding her hips, and smiling at her in reward for her cooperation and following his lead.

  Ettie tossed her head back, the arching of her back forcing her breasts into a prominent position, level with his mouth.

  Sucking furiously, he pulled her hardened nipple into his mouth. Her hips jerked in response, and her keening cries took on a fevered pitch.

  Pounding into her, she screamed with her release, milking his cock. Quickly he pulled out his seed spurting rope after rope between them, coating each with his come.

  Ettie collapsed against him, her gasps for air and the heaving of her chest filling him with pride. He hoped it would be pleasant to her, wanting her to see, on her first experience, that sexually joining with him would be an event to look forward to, not dreaded as many of his friends said their wives viewed sex.

  He stood with her still tangled around him, laying her carefully on the bed. “I’ll be back, Ettie, and I’ll wash you up.”

  “Oh, God. No. No, please. I’ll take care of that.” She attempted to rise, but he pressed a hand between the plump globes of her chest.

  “You’ll stay in place, just as I directed. It’s my pleasure to care for you, enjoy it, girl; I’m pretty demanding the rest of the time. Let me coddle you, without your sassy tongue being a bother.”

  A hint of pink tinged her cheeks, and she bashfully smiled, nodding her head.

  After wetting a cloth at washstand and basin, he then walked over to her, gently washing her thighs and the inflamed lips of her pussy.

  He stood back staring at her. Those long ringlet blonde curls framing her face with those large blue eyes blinking at him.

  Charles wondered how it was even possible to have fallen in love with a woman in this short time, but knew with complete certainty he’d become smitten. And now that he’d taken her virginity, made her innocence his, he swore he’d never let her go.

  He slid into her bed, tucking her against him, and leaning upon his elbow he stared at her closely, wishing he could hear her thoughts, wondering what was running through her mind.

  Chapter Eight

  “I didn’t see you bent over as a human tripod today, so one would assume that means you choked down your porridge like a good little girl.” William plucked a curl from her head, staring at the length letting it spring back, amazed as always.

  Ettie found herself annoyed by his fascination with her unruly, messy hair. Sitting behind her uncomfortable wooden desk in the classroom, she pulled her head away from him and reached up to assure her hair hadn’t been mussed. She found herself wishing she could cut these blonde curls off more days than not.

  And now to add to her grumpy mood, he thought teasing her about her public humiliation the day before made sense. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she stared at him in the most ill-tempered manner she could muster.

  “Girl.” He dragged out the term of endearment, resting his hip on the hardwood in front of her, assuring he sat away from the inkwell. “If you’re attempting to raise my ire with your petulance, you may succeed in biting off more than you wish to chew.”

  She had no doubt this was probably more truth than she wanted to deal with. Straightening her face and clearing her throat, she responded politely. “Yes, Sir, I choked down my porridge. It was very nutritional.”

  Headmaster William tossed his head back laughing, and dimples showed in his cheeks that she didn’t even know existed.

  She fought smiling back, not sure she liked being the brunt of his joke. And as much as she’d fought it, she’d grown fond of this classy man…the man of apparent wealth and stature in society. Not that it mattered to her she supposed. As a thieving urchin, as he called her, she’d come to the conclusion that she’d never find herself as a person of interest to such a gentleman.

  But she wished…and even hoped last night before they fell asleep tucked into each other’s arms that he’d be someone she could share her life with. The girls she’d played with as a child had talked once they’d slept with men—some who became husbands, and some who had not—and they said it was painful and not enjoyable in the least.

  However, Ettie had indeed enjoyed the romp. His hard cock bumping against the mouth of her womb had been enough to make her gasp and clench, and her release had surpassed any session with her hand alone in her bed at night. Her clit sparked to life at just the memory, and Ettie fought the urge to press the heel of her hand against the pouch of her sex, rubbing until she had found completion.

  But even that solitary act of sexual delight would pale to the union of their bodies—and souls. She watched and felt a fondness and gentleness during their clutch with the stern headmaster that she’d not witnessed before. His tender fingers stroked her face, and the sweet, soft kisses he’d placed on her cheek once he thought she’d fallen asleep had torn her heart apart.

  What if I never see him again after summer? Am I to spend the rest of my life wishing for the Headmaster of The School for Wayward Women?

  Ettie took solace in the fact that she may indeed spend the rest of her life as a spinster who’d lost her virginity to a headmaster friend of the Duke of Norfolk, but she’d have a memory to last her a lifetime. It’d be a memory to fuel the fire of desire, consuming her during the manipulation of her crinkum-crankum.

  “My sweet girl, what is wrong? Are you ill? Your face is so red.” William reached out touching the back of his palm to her cheeks and forehead. “Shall I call the doctor for you?”

  “Oh. Oh, no, Headmaster. I’m…I’ll be all right. It’s warm, right? Isn’t it warm in here?”

  His eyebrows furrowed and he eyed her suspiciously, narrowing his gaze in her direction. “It’s been quite cool this year, and the windows are closed. I’ll open them for you, but you’ll inform me if you begin to feel worse. Yes?” He walked to the tall windows, using a long pole to push up the window, a
llowing some fresh air into the classroom.

  “Yes, Sir. I will.”

  He slapped his hands together. “I’d like to see my handiwork from yesterday. After all, we missed your first day of schooling for your wayward ways and correction.” William snapped his fingers. “Up! Up!”

  Her heart leaped in her throat, and she scurried out of her seat, standing on trembling knees before him.

  “Draw up your gown and bend over the desk.”

  She stared at him, unsure she wanted to bare herself without any way of hiding her muff. It was one thing to show him her arse, but her quim was quite another, after all, there were rules for decency.

  “Good Sir, I’ll not show you my …private area, but will draw up my gown after I’ve lain over the desk.” She inhaled deeply, steeling herself for a battle of wills.

  Williams deep green eyes narrowed. “My dear.” His low voice taking on a sinister tone. “You’ll do as I say, when I say and not delay. Pull. Up. Your gown. Now. Front and back, just so there is no confusion.”

  His tall, lithe form sauntered to his desk, plucking a teacher’s cane, his long slender fingers sliding gracefully along the length, like a violinist with his bow.

  Her eyes welled with tears, his countenance blurring with the evidence of her sadness. Knowing when she’d been bested, her trembling hands grasped the soft flannel hem, slowly hauling it up, stopping at the apex of her thighs, and turning her gaze toward her headmaster, she pleaded silently, a small sob escaping.

  “Continue, girl.” He tapped the long length of wood on his palm in obvious warning.

  Shuttering her eyes, she tugged the gown up, the material brushing against her bottom, catching momentarily on the curve of her ass before resting on the small of her back. Her hands fisted the material at her belly, leaving the whole of her bottom half revealed to his wolfish gawking.

  His hard length clearly visible behind his trousers, the coveted, delicious intruder of her, pouch curving toward his left hip, and Ettie remembered how hot the silky penis felt in her palm, and how it twitched and seeped its semen on the tip.