by Sue Lyndon
“Papa?” She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Why are you not answering me?”
Papa carefully walked to the bed and deposited the articles in his hands then turned to her. Cammie stared, heart pounding. She had never seen Papa act quite this way, even when she had done something exceptionally naughty.
“We will address your need for additional linens as well as your manipulation of the poor laundry maid in due time, but there is a more pressing matter I wish to discuss with you.”
How did Papa know about her reason for needing the linens? Or the laundry maid? Despite her efforts to appear placid, her eyes darted to the bed where a telltale circle of dampness dotted the sheet. And Papa had more pressing matters than addressing the fact that she had been touching her kitty...again?
This did not bode well for her backside. A hard lump formed in her tummy. She chewed her lip and Papa continued.
“I had an unexpected visitor this morning,” Papa said. “A gentleman by the name of Lord Grayson.”
Cammie remained silent. The name meant nothing to her and, not wishing to make matters worse for herself, she chose to stay quiet.
“Lord Grayson has recently married one of your friends from Talcott House— Hyacinth.”
Cammie gasped. “Cynny’s husband was here? Did she accompany him? Is he still below stairs? Oh, I would very much like to meet him and to see Cynny again. Did you invite them to dine with us soon?” Cammie’s trepidation vanished and she bounced up and down on her toes and clapped her hands with pleasure. “Did you meet Cynny? Is her husband handsome? Wait…” she paused to search her memory… “I thought she was to marry a man named Lord Kensington, but you said a Lord Grayson called upon you.” She tilted her head and looked at Papa with confusion. Papa reached into his pocket and handed her a calling card which confirmed it had been Lord Grayson who visited Ashton Manor.
“Did he say why she did not marry Lord Kensington?”
Papa held up his hands. “Camellia, no more. In time, I am sure you will be able to have all of your questions answered and I do expect we will become better acquainted with Lord Grayson and his bride. I found him to be a gentleman worthy of knowing and I am sure you would enjoy seeing your friend.”
“Oh, yes, Papa. I would. Very much.” Cynny! Oh, what delicious delight it would be to spend time with her dear friend, both of them married ladies.
“But first,” Papa reached into his coat and pulled out a letter, “I have a few questions for you.”
Cammie glanced at the letter and then stopped to stare. Was that her handwriting? The letter looked worn, as though it had been read and refolded numerous times.
“Papa,” she said, “I do not understand.”
“You will soon enough, my dear wife.” He handed her the letter and as she read the first few lines, a fiery blush engulfed her cheeks and just as quickly her face felt as though all color had drained from it. She swayed a bit on her feet. Is this what it feels like to faint?
“I should like for you to read this letter to me.”
Cammie gasped. “Papa! No. I could never do such a thing. ‘Tis too shameful.”
“If the words are too shameful to read to your husband, then they ought not to have been committed to paper in the first place. Let that be a lesson to you. One of many I expect you are going to learn this afternoon.”
Papa pulled up a chair and sat upon it, then nodded to her. “You may begin.”
Cammie’s bare toes wiggled on the carpet as anxiety rolled through her. She could not remember exactly everything she had said in the letter, but she knew it was naughty. Shamefully naughty.
She licked her lips and swallowed past the dry lump in her throat and commenced the reading of her own words.
“My dearest Hyacinth,” she said,
“Please speak up, Cammie, I cannot hear you.”
“Yes, Papa,” she said, dread swirling in her tummy. She cleared her throat and continued. “It was absolutely charming to hear from you. I apologize for not replying sooner, but my duties as Lady Cavendish are extensive and I am quite busy with household matters, balls and social calls, as a proper lady often is. However, as Lord Cavendish is away from home this morning attending to some of his many important duties, I am delighted that I finally have time to catch up on my correspondence.”
She glanced up at Papa. “You certainly sound like a busy lady,” he said. “Funny that I do not recall us attending any balls. Have you been going out without me?”
Embarrassed, Cammie looked at the floor. “No, Papa. I-I just wanted to impress my friends.”
“Hmm,” Papa said. “It would seem to me that the great benefit of friends is that it is not necessary to put on airs for them.”
“Y-yes, Papa,” she replied. “I should not have done that.”
“I agree. Please continue.” He nodded for her to keep reading.
“How are you and all my old friends at Talcott House? It seems ever so long since we have seen each other. Much has happened and I feel that it was ages ago when we were all spending time together in the gardens, though in fact it has only been a few weeks.”
Cammie sure wished she was back at Talcott House now. Her bottom clenched up, thinking about how this little session was likely to end.
“And now you are to be married too! How exceptionally lovely! I hope that we will be able to meet in person once you have married and left Talcott House. The door to Ashton Manor is always open to you and I hope you will not feel intimidated by my sudden ascension to the highest ranks of society as you will always be my own dear, Cynny.”
Hearing her words aloud, Cammie could not believe how snooty she sounded. She glanced from the letter up at Papa. “That does not sound very nice, does it?”
“No, Camellia, it does not. I am very disappointed that you would say something so condescending to anyone, let alone someone you claim as a friend.”
When Papa had instructed her to read the letter to him, Cammie knew she would be humiliated by the naughty things she shared with Cynny, but she felt utterly miserable at being mean and high handed with her friend. She missed everyone at Talcott House, even bossy Garland, but she had written to Cynny like she was beneath Cammie’s notice. She sniffled and ran to Papa, wrapping her arms around his waist. He relented and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close.
He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped away her tears. “Tell me why you are so sad, little Cammie.” His warm voice and caring touch made Cammie feel better and worse at the same time. Better because he made her feel loved and protected. Worse, because she realized what an ingrate she was and that she did not deserve a papa as wonderful as hers.
After a couple of ragged breaths, she told him. “Papa, I have been so fortunate in my marriage to you. You are better than I deserve and then to speak so atrociously to Cynny and, in a way, my other friends at Talcott House—Oh, Papa, I am the worst kind of hypocrite. And an even worse friend.” She buried her face in his shoulder and he rubbed her back, whispering calming words.
Once she had settled down, she looked up at him. “Papa, I need to make amends to Cynny.”
“Yes, I believe you do and I am proud of you for recognizing your poor behavior without me pointing it out. We shall discuss all of that later, but now there is the matter of reading the rest of your letter.” He set her back on her feet and gave her bottom a slap. “Back to your reading position.”
Cammie returned to her reading spot, determined to do as Papa instructed and to take any punishment he meted out without complaint. She wanted to be a better person. Truly she did. Papa would help her, she knew it.
Still, there was the matter of the humiliating letter. She cleared her throat and moved to the next paragraph. “Your curiosity about what happens between married men and women is understandable. I felt much the same way until my dear papa taught me so many exceptional and pleasurable activities.”
She looked up at Papa and smiled. He gave her a stern look and wound his finger in a circle
to indicate that she was to get on with things.
“Have you had your special examination from Nurse Lister? I shall acknowledge I found the whole thing rather distressing and confusing until the very end when Miss Wickersham assisted in helping me to achieve my release.”
Cammie snuck a peek at Papa and he raised an eyebrow. “I may wish to hear more about that at a later time,” he said.
Cammie felt herself flush again, but warmth built in her kitty too. She found her voice and continued. “A release is another word for climax. A climax is the best feeling in the entire world and I hope your papa is able to give you many of them. It is hard to describe the exact sensation. It will build up—sort of like a kettle that is put on to boil—as the water heats up, the surface is sort of shimmery and quivery until a few bubbles break through. That’s how my skin feels, sort of prickly and tingly, then the bubbles get bigger and the water is covered with popping bubbles that keep getting hotter and hotter until the steam sets the kettle off in a blast of heat. And that is how your insides will feel as your climax builds up and up.”
“Is that true, little Cammie? Is a climax the most wonderful feeling in the entire world?”
“Yes, Papa,” she said, her voice catching with emotion. “You make me very happy.”
Papa smiled then, his first since entering her room. Some of the weight around Cammie’s heart lifted, but she still knew that the afternoon was far from over.
“And when it is over, your papa will wrap you in his arms and tell you what a good girl you are and you will drift off into the best sleep ever.”
She stole a glance at her papa. “That is true too,” she said, shyly.
“I like that part also, sweet Cammie.”
Cammie turned the page of the letter over to continue and as her eyes skimmed the first few words, a feeling of dread quickened in her. She looked to Papa again. “Do I really have to read this part?”
“Oh, yes, naughty girl. You absolutely have to read the next part.” Papa sat up straighter in his chair.
Cammie licked her lips and plunged forward. “Having a climax is so wonderful, you might be tempted to give yourself one when your papa is not around.” Cammie’s voice trailed off.
“I had trouble hearing that last sentence. Please repeat it.”
Cammie chewed her lip some more.
“I’m waiting.”
“Having a climax is so wonderful, you might be tempted to give yourself one when your papa is not around.” She glanced up and he nodded for her to continue. “To do that, you will need to touch your kitty with your fingers and at the very top is a little hard nubbin, that is your clitty. It is like the magic button for your release. Rub your fingers over it or maybe pinch it a bit and soon you will be like that kettle building up a big head of steam.”
“You seem to know a great deal about giving yourself a release, Cammie.”
Her bottom tingled. She had quite a punishment coming, there could be no doubt.
“I believe,” Papa said, “I should like for you to read the rest of the letter without any clothing. Please remove your nightgown.”
“Papa?”
“You heard me, Cammie. Do not pretend otherwise. Besides, the person who wrote this letter seems to have quite an extensive knowledge of the female body and therefore, has no reason to be shy.”
To her horror, Cammie felt her kitty heat up and a bit of moisture eased its way between her nether lips and onto her thighs. And now Papa would know it too. Moving slowly, though she knew there was no avoiding it, Cammie set the letter on her bed, then pulled the nightgown over her head and deposited it on the bed as well. She reached for the letter but Papa stopped her. “I would like,” he said, a naughty smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “a demonstration of that last bit you read.” Cammie gasped. “In fact, bring me the letter and I shall read it as you show me.”
With trembling fingers, Cammie retrieved the evil letter that had brought her nothing but problems, and slowly delivered it to her papa. When she moved as if to return to her reading spot, he halted her.
“It would please me,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire, “if you performed your part here, right in front of me.”
“Papa! I am too embarrassed. Please, Papa.”
“You ought to be embarrassed. Not only did you write a scandalous letter which revealed the most intimate details of our lives, but you confessed to doing something which I have explicitly told you not to do.”
“Oh,” Cammie said. She had not considered the fact that she had shared private information about Papa. What could have happened if someone other than Cynny had found the letter? Or if Lord Grayson had been an unscrupulous man?
Cammie had a feeling she would not be attending the theater that evening. Or if she did, it would be a most uncomfortable event being seated on a chafed backside for several hours.
Papa began reading. “... you will need to touch your kitty with your fingers and at the very top is a little hard nubbin, that is your clitty. It is like the magic button for your release. Rub your fingers over it or maybe pinch it a bit and soon you will be like that kettle building up a big head of steam.” When he finished reading, he looked up from the letter and watched as she touched herself.
Cammie did her best to follow along and repeat the actions described in the letter. Hearing him say those naughty words made her kitty especially wet and achy, so it was not difficult to want to give herself pleasure, though she was fraught with humiliation. When Papa finished reading, she stopped touching herself, expecting him to return the letter to her.
But, he continued reading. “Papas do NOT want their little girls to give themselves pleasure. Lord Cavendish says it is his right and privilege as my husband and papa to be the only one who brings me to climax.”
“I am glad you remember me saying that, Camellia, though it seems you did not heed my words. In fact, it would appear that you have come up with a scheme to completely disregard my instructions to you and you shared this with your friend quite proudly. He read more from the letter. “His possessiveness is quite endearing. However, sometimes I feel I must pleasure myself lest I explode from need. In those instances, I tell Papa that I have a headache and must rest. He usually is very concerned and puts me to bed himself in my own special bedroom. I close my eyes and pretend to sleep and when he leaves the room, my fingers get busy inside my drawers. After that, I usually do sleep so I do not feel it is a complete deception.”
“I am sorry, Papa,” Cammie said for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“Have I given you permission to stop touching your kitty?”
“No, Papa. It is just that I thought you wanted me to read the letter.”
“I think I shall continue reading for another paragraph or two while you continue to show me how you touch your kitty and disobey your papa.”
Papa’s deep voice filled the room. “However, your kitty (which is also called a cunny or a quim) will get wet when you are aroused and ready for a climax. Sometimes there is so much moisture it dampens my undergarments. If your papa suspects that you have been touching your private parts without his permission, he will check your drawers for telltale signs of wetness.”
Papa paused in his reading and reached for Cammie’s kitty. “Since you are not wearing drawers, I shall check here. Hmmm. You are very wet, Cammie. Does reading your naughty words to Papa excite you?” His fingers plunged in and out of her core while Cammie continued to touch her clitty. It was becoming very difficult for her to hold still and she swayed toward Papa with a soft moan.
“Are you getting ready to reach your climax, little girl?”
“Yes, Papa.” She worked her nubbin harder, feeling the tide building inside.
Papa pulled her hand away and then positioned her over his knee.
“Wha—”
“You have a punishment coming and it is time for it to start. Naughty girls do not get to bring themselves to climax.”
He handed h
er the letter. “Please continue reading,” he said.
She whimpered at the halt in her progress. Frustration at being left unsatisfied compounded her aggravation with herself for being in such a predicament in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she balanced across Papa’s knee and focused on the contents of the letter. Papa stroked his palm over the flesh of her backside.
“Papas can be very strict and stern too, especially if they believe their little girls have violated their rules. My papa has reddened by bottom several times for touching myself. It is shameful and embarrassing. Worse than the naughty chair.”
Papa’s hand stopped caressing and began swatting. Though she knew it was coming, the sharp smack to her hind end surprised her and she nearly dropped the letter. She steadied herself and moved to the next shameful confession, while Papa’s hand raised and lowered all over her naughty bottom.
“But, I have become friendly with the laundry maid and slip her a few coins now and then and she makes sure I have plenty of fresh linens and underclothes so Papa is none the wiser and believes I have learned my lesson.”
Papa’s palm smacked hard several times in the very center of Cammie’s backside, but Cammie was so angry with herself, she welcomed the heat and sting and focused her attention there. After half a dozen swats, Papa reminded her she was to be reading.
“Oh dear, I fear I have gotten ahead of myself. The major activity of married people is called making love. Your papa will have a big shaft between his legs called a cock. It will get hard when he desires you and he will thrust it inside your kitty. Cock is another name for penis. It will get large and hard inside your kitty as your papa moves in and out. Your kitty gets ready for the cock by getting wet with desire, like I described already. Your papa will help you build up your desire to get nice and slick for his cock by kissing you or touching your ninnies with his fingers or sometimes with his lips or teeth. Sometimes my ninnies are sore the next day but it feels so good I do not care.”
Papa shifted her across his lap. “Do you feel my hard shaft now, little Cammie? Even when you are naughty, Papa desires you. Your naked body and your submission make Papa happy and makes him want you.”
