Lord Michael observed with satisfaction as the spanking caused a deepening red glow to spread across her deliciously round bottom.
‘You are a rude, thoughtless, petulant, and arrogant young lady,’ he said as he continued to spank her, ‘and you are totally without humility.’
Elizabeth couldn’t believe this was happening to her as her muffled cries kept pace with his smacking hand. His words stung almost as much as his slaps.
‘You are disobedient,’ he went on, ‘and you are disrespectful. Not to mention wasteful and wilful. And you treat the servants poorly.’
She twisted and wriggled but he held her securely, never missing a beat. Soon tears were squeezing from her tightly shut eyes, and with each smack she felt the sting more acutely. Then just when she was sure she could take no more, the punishment stopped. Her heart was pounding, her breathing ragged.
Lord Michael gazed out at the picturesque garden. The early-autumn sun was casting its mid-morning glory across the lush green lawns. The spoiled girl was attempting to regain some kind of control, so he waited until her writhing became less so, and when finally he felt she could pay him attention, he cast his eyes back down upon her ruby-red bottom.
‘Now Elizabeth, pay attention,’ he said clearly and precisely. ‘I am going to remove your gag, but it is under the following conditions. One, you are not to speak unless spoken to. Two, you will not answer a question with a question. Three, when I resume your spanking you must do your best to stifle your outbursts. If you make too much noise the gag will be replaced. Do you understand me?’
The thought of losing the gag filled Elizabeth with relief, so she nodded her head fervently.
‘Good. All right, be still now.’
He reached down and undid the knot nestled in her hair, removing the ascot. He then placed his hand under her mouth and slowly pulled the wet handkerchief from between her lips. Elizabeth could still taste the laundered cotton, but to feel the release of the gag around her head brought great relief.
‘Take it in your hands, Elizabeth,’ he ordered, ‘so you will remember that if you disobey those conditions it will be smartly reinserted.’
Carefully balancing across his lap, she raised her bound hands to take the damp material from him, but he pulled it away and she furrowed her brow, confused.
‘Don’t you have anything to say?’ he demanded, and she thought furiously, trying to understand. ‘Aren’t you grateful for the removal of the gag, Elizabeth?’
‘Y-yes,’ she stammered.
‘Yes what, Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, I am.’ What was he driving at now? She didn’t understand him at all.
‘Wrong answer, Elizabeth.’
His hand smacked again, two more times, helping her remember the edict, and though the smacks hurt terribly she didn’t cry out as she wished she could.
‘Let’s try again,’ he persisted. ‘Yes, what?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, feeling foolish and cross that she hadn’t thought of it before.
‘Good girl,’ he said, his voice suddenly gentle as he tenderly stroked her stinging cheeks, and his words, in conjunction with his soothing caress, sent a strange thrill through her, penetrating her sorry state.
‘Elizabeth, when one is grateful what does one say?’ he pressed, as if addressing a simple child.
She thought for a moment, trying to control her panting, encouraged by his sudden change in demeanour.
‘Thank you?’ she replied, hopefully.
‘Thank you, what?’ he asked patiently.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she answered, finally understanding him now. She was to address him as ‘sir’ at all times.
‘Good girl,’ he responded warmly, and offered her the handkerchief.
She accepted the damp gag in trembling hands, so pleased she had gotten it right, and wondered what strange phenomenon was taking place.
‘Now, we shall continue,’ he said, ‘and when I ask certain questions you’ll know the correct answers, won’t you?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, suddenly filled with renewed dread of what was to come.
‘Are you rude?’ he began, the next smack landing on the last word.
‘Yes, sir, I am rude,’ she cried.
‘Thoughtless?’ he continued, the palm of his hand underlining the question.
‘Yes, sir,’ she wailed. ‘I am thoughtless.’
‘Are you petulant and arrogant, Elizabeth?’ he asked, two slaps hitting on each cheek.
‘Yes, sir,’ she cried, her sobs growing louder.
‘And disobedient?’
‘I am very disobedient, sir,’ she sobbed.
‘And the bath, Elizabeth, are you wasteful?’ His hand landing one more swat on her scarlet skin.
‘I am wasteful, sir,’ she cried. ‘Yes, I am wasteful.’
‘And how do you treat your servants, Elizabeth?’
‘Badly, sir,’ she admitted, knowing through the pain and tears it was true.
‘Yes, you do, Elizabeth,’ he confirmed, landing one more sound slap. ‘But you answered all the questions correctly, didn’t you? Good girl.’
Once again Elizabeth felt a strange sense of satisfaction at his words, though her flesh was smarting and she was mortified at the turn of events. Then as his hand travelled over her skin she heard him say, ‘Think about everything you’ve just acknowledged, Elizabeth, and what it is I’d like to hear next.’
He listened to her sniffles as he caressed her burning cheeks. With continued training she would become and remain pliable, obedient, and worth the time and attention of a gentleman. And she would have to be spanked regularly; such spirit as hers needed to be kept in check. Then at last he heard the words he’d been waiting for.
‘I’m sorry!’ she suddenly blurted. ‘Please, sir, I’m so sorry!’
He smiled with satisfaction. ‘That took you long enough,’ he said. ‘But perhaps the people you mistreated are the ones who deserve your apologies.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, happy to agree with anything he might say.
‘Starting with Grace. When you see her tomorrow morning you’re going to apologise to her, aren’t you, Elizabeth?’
The suggestion shocked her, and she hesitated fatefully.
‘My hand is quite tingling,’ Lord Michael stated, then reached down and pulled off his leather shoe. She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, and for a moment she thought he had been distracted. But then a shockingly sharp pain reverberated through her bottom and she shrieked pitifully.
‘That was too loud,’ he admonished ruthlessly. ‘Do we need the gag again, Elizabeth?’
The terrible sting of the shoe left her breathless, and she shook her head miserably.
‘N-no, sir,’ she stammered through ragged breaths. ‘S-sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.’
‘I should think not. Now, I asked you a question, Elizabeth, and you didn’t answer me so I shall repeat it for you. You’re going to apologise to Grace, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said, her voice wavering, ‘I am going to apologise to Grace.’
‘Good. And then you will apologise to your father, and your brother, and Smithy. In fact, everyone to whom you have ever been rude. Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?’
‘Y-yes, s-sir,’ she spluttered.
‘Excellent.’ He smiled contentedly. ‘Now, just to even things up, and so you will definitely remember what will happen to you should you decide to disobey me…’ The shoe leather hit her other cheek with a scorching slap and she hissed, clenching her teeth, but she did not shriek as she had previously.
‘All right, Elizabeth,’ he concluded, ‘I am going to let you up now. You are to step out of your underwear and you are to keep your garments raised by holding them up under your elbows. Then you will stand by the window until I tell you to move. You may cry, you may sigh, but you may not talk. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said, stifling a sob.
‘Good girl
. Up you get now.’
He helped her up from his lap, and then stood to steady her as she stepped out of her fine silk drawers, which had been, much to his delight and entertainment, flapping as she helplessly kicked the air during her chastisement. Then obediently holding up her lacy petticoat and skirt, she walked shakily to the window and stood, head bowed, sniffling quietly.
As she studied the floor she knew she had been rude and wilful and unkind to the servants, but as the minutes ticked by the throbbing sting began to abate, she regained her composure, and she found herself wondering if her past behaviour, so unacceptable to Lord Michael, was her right. Wasn’t she born to it? It wasn’t her fault if she had been blessed by wealth and station. The servants belonged to her family. She may have been unkind from time to time, but they should consider themselves lucky to be even employed!
She wished she was anywhere but there. Suddenly she hated him – sort of. Actually, try as she might it was impossible to hate him, and the truth was she didn’t know what she was feeling. Except for the smarting of her bottom and the unexpected wetness between her legs.
She thought about turning and speaking to him, but knew if she did she would be disobeying him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. He would surely spank her all over again, and she was sore enough, thank you. No, she would stand there as long as he wanted. That would be that, and then she would go to her room and rest for the remainder of the day.
Lord Michael viewed his handiwork. Her bottom was a lovely blotchy shade of pinks and reds. Undoubtedly she would need some more hearty smacks from him before the day was out, and definitely more in the days and weeks to come, but she was fixable, he was sure of it. She was a very naughty young lady; even more so than he had at first thought. He knew it would take more than one sound spanking to teach her the error of her ways, and he was more than up to the task. Indeed, he was looking forward to the challenge immensely.
Chapter 4
Long after she had stopped sobbing and the scalding pain had turned to a dull throb, Elizabeth was still standing, holding her dress, staring at the floor. She could hear Lord Michael moving about the room, and wanted desperately to speak to him, or to simply drop her dress and walk out.
She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and her bound wrists were really starting to annoy her. Twice she had an itch on the tip of her nose, but she couldn’t reach to scratch it without running the risk of dropping her skirt. The situation was starting to make her angry again, and her lesson in wilfulness was fast being forgotten.
Lord Michael was well aware of this. He knew it was only a matter of time before her spoiled nature would get the better of her and she would utter a petulant word, or drop her skirt, or worse. Then her education would continue.
But he decided to expedite the process. Initially he only had the rest of the day, and there was still much to accomplish. So, addressing her from across the room he announced, ‘Elizabeth, I am leaving the room for a minute. You are to stay exactly as and where you are.’
With that he unlocked and opened and closed the door, but rather than leave the room, he quietly moved back and stood by the fireplace. It was a deception, but necessary.
Elizabeth heard the door close, then listened intently. Her arms were aching from holding up the dress, and she really had taken enough. She listened again, cocking her head to one side. She could race up the stairs and lock herself in her room. He wouldn’t be able to get in there. Yes, that’s what she would do, and she’d better do it while she had the chance.
A wry smile crossed Lord Michael’s lips. He could almost hear her considering all the possibilities and options. It wouldn’t be much longer now. The atmosphere in the room grew more tense…
Only a few moments more passed and Elizabeth dropped her skirt, turned, started for the door, and stopped abruptly as she saw him standing by the fireplace, hands behind his back, watching her.
‘Going somewhere?’ he asked.
She froze, shocked and dismayed, and stared into steely brown eyes.
‘So, it appears you are still a disobedient young lady.’
‘And you are a cheating beast, sir!’ Despite her awful predicament she could not suppress the unwise outburst.
He moved with surprising stealth, grabbed her bound wrists and threw her down into a large armchair. Then nonchalantly he reached down and took off his shoe again. ‘Do you have anything to say in your defence?’ he asked.
Her heart was hammering and she felt completely furious, but the continuing burning in her bottom and the menacing shoe in his hand were keeping her fury in check. She may have been rebellious, but she wasn’t stupid.
‘I’d just had enough, that’s all,’ she began, ‘and I thought I’d—’
‘Elizabeth, stand up,’ he snapped, ‘lift your skirt, turn around, and bend over.’
Her eyes grew wide.
‘You just admitted you were disobedient because you felt like being so. Do you think that’s acceptable behaviour?’
Swallowing hard she studied the carpet, and frantically searched for a rational explanation.
‘I asked you a question, Elizabeth,’ he persisted. ‘Was your behaviour appropriate?’
She sighed, resigned to her fate, and shook her head. ‘No, sir,’ she said quietly, ‘I suppose it was not appropriate.’
‘And do you think you should be punished?’
‘Yes, sir, I suppose I should be punished.’
‘Very good, young lady, perhaps something did sink in after all. Come here, lift your skirt and bend over.’
Standing, head bowed, she did exactly as he instructed. He stood for a moment, staring at the beautiful young lady holding her skirt up, bent over at the waist, waiting for her punishment. It was a most pleasing and satisfying sight. He moved closer and positioned himself so he was facing the opposite direction to her, then wrapped his left arm solidly around her waist, his right hand firmly holding the shoe.
‘Do not make one sound, Elizabeth,’ he warned. ‘Do you understand me? Since this is a lesson in obedience, we’ll see just how obedient you can be when you put your mind to it.’
Elizabeth could not believe she was in such an awful predicament again. How could she have been so stupid? If only she had done as she’d been told. He was rubbing the cold sole of the shoe across her right buttock. She clenched her teeth and waited… and waited. She felt the leather leave her tender behind, and assumed the smack would be just another second longer. She cringed, but nothing happened. Then the rubbing commenced again, caressing, moving softly. She couldn’t bear it. Why didn’t he just spank her and get it over with?
‘Do you deserve a punishment, Elizabeth?’ he asked, continuing to rub the leather over her skin.
The question made her think about her deliberate act of disobedience. ‘Yes, sir,’ she answered, hoping she sounded repentant enough.
‘Why is that, Elizabeth?’
‘Because I disobeyed you, sir.’
‘That’s correct. Ask me to punish you.’
She winced at the humiliating decree. She actually had to ask to be spanked!
‘I’m waiting, Elizabeth.’
‘Pluh-please, sir, will you punish me for disobeying you?’ she blurted.
‘Yes,’ he mused, ‘I most certainly will.’
Lord Michael swept the shoe down hard and flat against her flesh, still tender from the spanking. She felt the pain considerably, the burning smack loud against her delicate skin, but she made not a sound. He moved the shoe to the other cheek, caressed it for a moment, and then smacked it hard. Again there was not a sound from her lips. He repeated the treatment twice more on each cheek, leaving plenty of time between each strike for the sting to penetrate and absorb.
When finished he removed his anchoring hold from around her waist and ordered her to remain bent at the waist. Then moving around in front of her he offered her the article of punishment.
‘Elizabeth, take my shoe and kiss it,’ he said, ‘and t
hank me for your castigation.’
Utterly defeated, she took the leather item in her bound hands and pressed her lips to it. ‘Thank you for my punishment, sir,’ she sniffled.
‘Kneel down,’ he instructed, ‘elbows on the floor, bottom raised, place the shoe back on my foot, and stay there.’
She did as he said, albeit a little clumsily. Her wrists were still tied and her hands still held the damp handkerchief. When she was done she stayed perfectly still, maintaining her submissive posture.
‘Good,’ he said, and then just stood there gazing down at her. Though it was only a few minutes to Elizabeth, in the pervading silence it seemed a very long time.
‘Stay,’ he said softly.
He walked across the room, removed the key from the lock, opened the door, walked out and closed it behind him. Standing in the hall he could feel her complete stillness and obedience within the room. He knew she would not move. He locked the door and went to his room to change.
Lord Michael was gone for about twenty minutes, and just as he knew she would be, when he unlocked and opened the door he was greeted by the sight of his petulant young charge still kneeling, her naked bottom raised, red, and exposed. It was a very satisfying sight.
Upon hearing his return Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. Her neck was aching and she was miserable, but she was determined not to move, no matter what.
‘Stand up.’
The order was like music to her ears, so still holding her skirt she struggled to her feet. The muscles in her shoulders protested and she found her knees were quite sore, but she didn’t complain. In fact she barely noticed the discomfort as she faced him.
‘Have you thought about anything since I’ve been gone, Elizabeth?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir,’ she admitted. ‘That I wasn’t to move.’
He laughed. It was perfect. It was the only thought she should have had. ‘What would you like to do now, Elizabeth?’ he went on.
‘I’d like to lay down for a rest, sir,’ she said.
Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust) Page 3
