by Maggie Ryan
Of course, since she had been such a naughty, disobedient little girl, she had been rolled onto her tummy first and spanked long and hard by the paddle that Mrs. Bremmer handed Edward. Only after her bottom was blazing and throbbing had she been flipped back over and all that awful heat had been trapped inside several layers of white swaddling. She had been sobbing with pain and shame when she had been lifted and placed in the crib.
And that was when her papa had informed her of his latest expectation. She had been mortified when she was told that she was to use her nappy during her nap like a good little girl. Mrs. Bremmer had simply stood at the end of the crib as if it were totally normal to hear the mistress of the manor being ordered to wet her nappy like a baby. Edward had given her a kiss on her tearstained cheek and whispered that disobedient dry little girls would soon find themselves wishing they obeyed their papas.
Chapter 2
Despite the memories so fresh in her mind and regardless of the warning and the fear of what would happen, Louisa had been unable to force herself to obey. Now, looking up at him from her crib and watching her husband’s smile fade as his fingers pushed inside her nappy, she knew she would soon be on her knees, her bottom aching and her mouth busy suckling while she made her penance.
Edward sighed heavily and, without a word, flipped her onto her back. Louisa was grateful that the housekeeper was not in sight even as Edward unpinned the cloth and pulled the bone dry fabric from beneath his wife’s bottom.
“I see you chose to be a naughty girl,” he said as he dropped the nappy onto the floor and then stripped her of her short nightshirt. Louisa had no answer. She had been given an order and had failed to obey it. She might have been allowed to act as Lady Wintercrest for several weeks when her twin had first come to live with them as Edward’s ward, but it was quickly becoming obvious that was no longer the case. Edward picked up his naked wife and carried her to the ottoman before setting her down on her feet.
She watched her husband stride to the pretty white cabinet painted with bright yellow daisies and purple forget-me-nots. Opening one of the doors, he reached into the interior and withdrew his choice. The falsehood of such a sweet piece of furniture’s intention was proven when he turned back. Instead of any book, stuffie, doll, or toy, he held a long, thin leather strap in his hand. When he doubled it and began to walk back toward her, she broke.
“Please no, Papa! Please don’t strap me! I’m sorry… I-I just couldn’t do it… please!”
“You can and, believe me, Louisa Michelle Wintercrest, you will. If you need a well- strapped bottom before you obey your papa, then you shall have one.” Gesturing with the strap toward the ottoman, he continued, “Climb up and get on your hands and knees. Lower your titties and shoulders down and stick that naughty, dry bottom well up in the air. Ask Papa for your strapping like a good girl.”
Louisa began sobbing even as she climbed onto the ottoman and forced herself into the position he required. Her nipples pebbled instantly the moment they met the cold leather, her eyelids closing as she pressed her cheek down and lifted her bottom high. She quivered as she felt his fingers splay against the small of her back.
“Don’t make me wait, Louisa, as your strapping will be much longer if you do.”
Sobbing, understanding the need for confession and the all-consuming shame of having to ask for him to help her atone for that naughtiness, she managed to choke out, “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… didn’t obey you. Please, may I have my strap… strapping?” He didn’t immediately speak, but she felt him lift the leather of the strap to lie against her upturned bottom. Though she couldn’t stop the instinctual flinch, she didn’t try to lower herself from the shameful position.
“If you fail in your diaper duties again, little lady, it will not be the strap the next time. I will use the cane against your naughty arse, and then you shall learn what penance is required for the use of such a severe instrument.”
Louisa felt her heart stutter at his calm warning. She instinctively knew that the penance she normally performed was not the one of which he was speaking. Though she had no idea what he could possibly mean, she knew she never wanted to discover what he would expect of her if he ever had cause to give her a caning. She found herself lifting her bottom even higher and saying, “Yes, sir, Papa. I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Words are easy to say, little one. It’s actions that will prove to your papa that those words are sincere.”
Before she could respond, Edward lifted the strap and she shrieked as it connected with her flesh. The blow almost had her flattening against the ottoman but she caught herself and pushed her bottom back into the air. The act was repeated again and again until a half-dozen welts marked her skin, each slightly below the previous one. Despite her efforts to accept the discipline with proper contrition, she was soon twisting and turning, attempting to avoid the strokes, but Edward kept his hand at her back, his aim never once off its target. Two additional strokes were given directly on the most tender area where her bottom met her thighs, and she wailed the loudest at these.
She continued to cry and then flushed hotly as she felt his fingers slide between her spread legs. She knew exactly what he would discover in her secret place. Her body had betrayed her again, her moisture flooding her sex even as her bottom received stroke after stroke of the strap. He removed his fingers from her after giving her little nub just the barest flick, dragging a soulful moan from her. Unable to look away, she watched as he rubbed his slick fingers together, giving her a look that had her tummy fluttering and her pussy contracting.
What was wrong with her? What sort of woman felt as if she was fighting a war each time her husband… her papa… punished her? How could she be so aroused, her body thrumming in need, even when it throbbed in pain?
Louisa was still sniffling when he walked back to her after returning the strap to the armoire. She felt her pussy clutch yet again at the sight of the bulge beneath the placket of his trousers. His cock was obviously rock hard. She gave a soft whimper as he lifted her easily off the ottoman and placed her on her knees between his spread thighs. Her face as hot as her bottom, she said, “May I make my penance, Papa?”
“Yes, little lady, you may,” he said, reaching to place his hand against the back of her head as he granted his permission.
She felt his fingers weaving into her hair as she unbuttoned his pants and carefully removed his cock from its confinement. His cock was indeed hard yet covered in skin as soft as velvet beneath her fingers as she stretched them as far as she could around his girth. Bending forward, the tip of her tongue slipped from her lips to take its first taste of the pearly drop that oozed from the slit on the ruddy head of his cock. Her stomach fluttered and her pussy convulsed as she closed her eyes and took him into her mouth. He was soon moaning as her small tongue worked to assure she was giving him pleasure. Her cheeks puffed in and out as she suckled him hard. The pressure of his hand was her silent guide. He’d press her forward until she’d taken more of his cock into her mouth than she’d imagined she could,. Then, as if assuring she knew he could make her ordeal go quickly but chose instead to lengthen her act of penance, he’d tug on her hair, pulling her back off his shaft.
Again and again she was pressed down and pulled back, her chest heaving every time she was allowed the chance to take a huge breath, filling her lungs even as she was pressed forward yet again. Each time she was forced to take a little more of his length, her throat losing each battle to repel the intruder that demanded entrance into the narrow channel. Louisa’s jaws were aching and her eyes watering as he claimed her throat, fucking her face as her tongue continued to lave the hot column of flesh covered steel.
It seemed like an hour had passed before she felt the fingers in her hair fisting, pulling and yet holding her in place.
“You will learn to take every inch of my cock, Louisa,” he said and she shuddered thinking of those last few inches she could still feel beneath her fingerti
ps being buried down her throat. “But you already know you are to swallow every drop Papa gives you, don’t you, little one?”
Her pussy contracted at his order and she managed an awkward bob of her head before taking a long lick against the vein bulging beneath the crown of his cock a moment before he filled her throat and mouth with his cream. She accepted his tribute as she had been taught, struggling to swallow as spurt after spurt filled her mouth, tightening her lips to attempt to keep every drop captive. It was several minutes after the last jerk of his cock before she pulled away, allowing him to slip from her mouth. Panting, cradling his cock in her palms, all evidence of his cum having disappeared with dozens of tiny licks of her tongue, she looked up to meet his gaze. An approving nod had her bending down to give a final kiss to his cock before tucking him back into his trousers. Edward helped her to her feet, led her to the changing table and lifted her onto it. The moment she was fully reclined, she felt her bladder clench.
“Please, Papa, please let me use the chamber pot,” she said, even knowing that it was useless. A little girl did not make the rules at Wintercrest. That duty belonged to its master and he was already reaching for the folded white cloth beside her.
“Hush,” her papa said as her placed the nappy beneath her still burning bottom. “You were a naughty girl, Louisa. If you had wet your nappy during your nap, you not only would have been allowed to make your necessary in your chamber pot, you would not have been diapered again today. However, you chose to defy your Papa and will remain in your nappy for the rest of the day, regardless of when you use it.”
Louisa finally accepted the fact that she would indeed be required to wet a nappy just like a small little girl. Her defiance had earned her nothing but a very hot bottom, a tummy full of his cream and the knowledge that she would remain in nappies for a great long time. Fastening the last pin in place, he helped her to sit and then lifted her off the table. She was still sniffling as he helped her to dress. She was so wrapped up in the fact that she was expected to use a nappy that she wasn’t truly aware of her clothing. It wasn’t until she was being led from the nursery that she looked down at her dress. It was a child’s dress and didn’t come close to reaching her ankles. Her face was shocked as she pulled away from his hold.
“Papa, no! I-I can’t go downstairs like this! I-I look… look like a baby!”
Edward chuckled and tightened his grip. “No, little lady, you look like my precious little girl.” He paused and smiled. “At least your outside clothing does. But we both know you do look like a baby under your dress. Your nappy will help remind you of the fact that you are to be a good little girl and obey Papa unless you wish to wear one all the time.” He led her down the narrow nursery stairs and along the long wide corridor to the landing at the top of the grand staircase. “Having to be punished and perform you penance has made it too late for you to have a proper tea, but you may play in the library until dinner.”
Louisa didn’t care about missing tea, nor did she have any desire to play. All she wanted to do was pull away and hide. She was terrified of being seen like this again. She had been dressed like a child before but that had been weeks earlier. Despite gradually becoming accustomed to the new wardrobe, once word that Lucille was coming to live at Wintercrest had reached them, she had begged her husband to allow her to assume the role of Lady Wintercrest. He had reluctantly agreed, allowing her to wear fashionable dresses even as he’d continued her lessons in submission and had punished her in the privacy of his bedchambers or behind the closed doors of his study when she’d forgotten his rules. With her current state of dress, it was obvious that he no longer would allow her to hide her status from her sister..
“But, Papa… please, what will Lucy—”
“It is time for Lucille to understand the ways of Wintercrest, my dear,” Edward said, cutting her off. “It has become crystal clear from your choices lately that I’ve been far too lenient and let my love for you cloud my judgment. You are my bride but, most importantly, you are my special little lady. No longer will you be allowed to hide the fact. You are to remember your earlier training or, little one, your poor bottom will be so well thrashed you won’t be able to sit upon it for days. Now, come along, I have work to attend to before dinner.” Ignoring her tears, he led her down the stairs.
Louisa didn’t dare raise her eyes as they moved through the house, but she was aware that they passed several servants going about their duties. Her shame increased, though she knew none would belittle her. Edward had chosen his staff well as not one had ever given her so much as a judging look when she first learned of her true role in the manor. While she’d never truly imagined anyone living such a life, it appeared that she was the only ignorant one at Wintercrest… or had been until her twin joined the household. Once they reached the library, she was led to a chair.
“Be my good girl. Mrs. Bremmer will be in to check on you soon,” Edward said, bending to pick her up before depositing her in one of the overstuffed armchairs in the library. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Yes, Papa.”
After kissing the top of her head, her papa left and she was deciding which book to pick off the shelves to pass the time. Or if she were truthful, which to escape into so she could forget what was expected of her though the nappy between her legs would most likely make that an impossible task. The toes of her shoes had just hit the carpet when she froze at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Yanking her legs up, she attempted to make herself disappear in the depths of the huge chair. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she prayed that whoever it was, their duties took them elsewhere in the large manor.
“Oh my, don’t you look precious, Miss Louisa. How are you feeling, little one?”
Mrs. Bremmer’s voiced dashed any hope that Louisa had of not being seen in her childish attire. All she could hope for now was that the woman would be satisfied that her charge was perfectly all right and would leave the library. Sighing, she managed a small smile. “I-I’m fine, ma’am.”
“I’m sure you’re better than fine,” the woman said, her smile far larger. “It’s about time this household got itself in order. Now, you’ve missed tea but I know that little girls are quite thirsty after their naps. I’ve prepared you a nice warm bottle. Do you need me to feed it to you, or can you be a good little girl and drink it yourself?”
Louisa’s face burned as she looked up to see a large baby bottle before her. The nipple appeared to be huge, one that would certainly fill her entire mouth. She wanted to run, to hide, but knowing her husband would instantly be informed of her disappearance, she lifted her hands and took the awful bottle. She had been given one before, and knew what was expected.
“Thank you,” she said with a sniffle even as she put the bottle to her lips.
Mrs. Bremmer didn’t respond until Louisa opened her mouth and began to suckle on the bottle. “That’s our good girl. Now, you just drink up, and I’ll be back to check on you soon. If that bottle isn’t empty, I’m afraid I’ll just have to take you on my lap and feed you.” The housekeeper began to walk away and then, as if in afterthought, turned and said, “Oh, and sweetie, I’ll be checking your nappy as well. It won’t do for our little one to sit in a wet, dirty diaper. We wouldn’t want your skin to get a rash, now would we?”
Louisa closed her eyes. No chair on earth was deep enough to hide her shame though she sank as far back against the cushions as she could. As she drank the milk the bottle held, she wished she had obeyed her husband and used the horrid nappy in the privacy of her nursery. That would have been awful enough but this… this was far more mortifying. Instead of being a little embarrassed, now she’d been given a bottle instead of a glass and knew that the housekeeper had been informed that her mistress was still in a nappy and was expected to wet it. When would she learn that to defy her papa only caused her more anxiety? She tried to think of how she could possibly explain all of this to her twin sister. She could think of no explanation that would be good eno
ugh. Lucille would be shocked and then ashamed of her sister for allowing herself to be treated like a child instead of a grown woman.
How could Lucy possibly understand that Louisa did not truly hate being her husband’s child bride? How could she ever explain that submitting to her husband satisfied something deep inside that she’d never known existed until he awakened it? That while her mind might fight against it, her body thrived on every command, every touch even when those touches included punishment that caused her pain? Louisa didn’t even understand her feelings—how would Lucy? What she hated was the thought of seeing her sister’s love disappear from her eyes when she discovered her twin’s true submission. Though she was terrified of what Lucy would think of her, she found she was far more worried about what would happen if she didn’t obey her husband… or, to be more honest, her papa. How would he up his ante in order to teach her that defiance was futile? As her mind whirled, she drew on her bottle, the sound of nothing but air alerting her that she’d emptied it.
She blushed as she admitted to herself that she actually enjoyed the comfort of the large nipple filling her mouth, the warmth of the milk spurting into her throat with every suckle. She found she only wished that she was curled up in her papa’s lap, cradled in his arms while he fed her the bottle as he had done the first night he had introduced it into her life. But, today she was being punished. She had been a naughty girl, had disobeyed her papa and, therefore, would not be allowed his comforting embrace for quite some time. At that thought, she buried her face in her hands even as the bottle fell to the floor and rolled across the carpet. Her heart was aching with emotion, her head was full of conflicting thoughts and she was mortified to feel the desperate need to release her bladder.
