Surrender Your Grace

by Maddie Taylor

  “Do you know why I chose the birch rod for your punishment?” He didn’t expect an answer so was surprised by her offhanded, “I don’t know, because it’s better than a burnt stick in the eye?” Andrew had a hard time containing his chuckle and had to bite his tongue. She really was very entertaining.

  “Cecilia, in your position can you really afford to be flippant?”

  “I’m sorry, My Lord, I’m just frightfully nervous.”

  “Mind your tongue, it is after all the reason you are in this position. And that’s four, by the way. Now then, where was I?”

  “The reason for the birch…”

  “It's quiet.” He flicked the birch rod through the air and it made a small swishing noise. “We have a house full of servants. With the birch, the only sound we have to worry about is that which comes from your beautiful lips. ” He came around the front of the bench and crouched before her. Cupping her soft cheek he angled her face so she could see him. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed so I have this strap for you to bite down on. I won’t go easy on you like the last time, Cecilia. Your behavior cannot go unchecked.”

  Easy? The last time she hadn’t sat comfortably for three days. He called that easy? Granted, some of the soreness had been from the taking of her virginity but that discomfort had originated from other intimate places. She remained silent, not wanting to test his patience further.

  Andrew leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her dry lips; then he offered her the leather bit. When she didn’t immediately open her mouth, he pressed her to take it. “Trust me; you’ll be thanking me for it before this is over.”

  An ill-advised eye roll was her immediate response and she regretted it instantly. “My Lord, you promised you’d be patient with me, remember?”

  “I did at that, Cici.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead after he slipped the thick leather between her teeth. “And I haven’t forgotten.” He stood and walked behind her adding, “That’s the reason you’ll be feeling the sting of the birch instead of the strap or the cane. However, you are up to five ‘My Lords’ now. So once the birching is complete and you have rested for a bit, you’ll feel the flat of my hand for that. Let’s try not to add anymore to the tally for now, hmm?”

  Ignoring her groan of protest, he stepped behind her and picked up the birch rod ready to apply it to her exposed skin. “This birch rod has been soaking in a brine bath which keeps the limbs supple and acts as a disinfectant.”

  The first brush of the birch rod landed and Cici was surprised at the negligible sting which was more like a mild scratching sensation. Cici relaxed, she could bear this.

  Andrew labored away behind her. The birch making a steady swishing noise as he applied the whippy branches across her entire bottom and upper thighs. “You’ve had about ten strokes now and your pale cheeks are beginning to take on a nice pink hue. As the rod strikes already tender skin you will begin to feel a different sensation soon enough.”

  As soon as those words left his mouth, she started to feel a heated, burning sensation. She mumbled around the leather in her mouth, “It's stinging terribly Andrew.”

  He paused to check her skin condition and found nothing to be concerned about, so he continued. “Bite down on the leather, Cecilia.” He landed another series of steady swishing blows; the intensity the same as the first stroke. “This rod consists of about a dozen limbs, the more limbs, the more spring as it lands against your cheeks which reduces the impact so you don’t bruise. I want you to feel the sting and heat, not bruise or injure you after all.”

  Biting down on the leather her response was mumbled gibberish.

  Leaning over, he removed the leather bit and asked her to repeat herself. Panting for air as her bottom blazed she shook her head, “I’d rather not.”

  “It wasn’t an option, wife. What did you say?” He slapped her burning bottom with his large open palm, one smack to each cheek. A tear rolled down her cheek, which he brushed away gently with his thumb. His firm tone belied the gentle caress. “I’m waiting.”

  “I said, how considerate of you, My Lord.”

  Sass, right in the middle of a punishment his wife was giving him lip. He couldn’t believe it but still he was amused. Reinserting the bit, he moved back to her bottom where she wouldn’t see his mirth. “Your audacity is overwhelming, and very imprudent. We aren’t through with your thrashing by half and yet you dare to sass me like an impertinent chit.”

  “I’m sorry, My Lord but I did say I’d rather not repeat it.”

  A chuckle of laughter escaped at that. “So you did, my dear. So you did. What is your tally up to now, Cecilia?”

  “What?”

  “The ‘My Lording’ continues. You are up to seven I believe. After the birch, a hand spanking is going to burn like fire, so I suggest you stop and call me Andrew as I have asked repeatedly.”

  Swish, swish, swish. He landed another ten lashes with the birch stopping when she had no more sassy remarks or comments. Instead he saw a remorseful and thoroughly punished young woman with reddened tear-filled eyes and a well-birched behind. Afterwards, when she started to stand he corrected her, “Uh, uh, uh, Cecilia. I want you to stay bent over the bench with your punished backside on display while I work on some correspondence. Then you shall come across my knee for the remainder.”

  “You can’t be serious, Andrew.”

  “Of course I can, and I am. Spread your legs wider.”

  “But my… uh, private areas will show and my knees are beginning to ache.”

  “You may stand then,” he said as he made allowances for her discomfort and helped her to rise. “But you will stand bent over the bench. I will enjoy your spectacle every moment as I work.” His hand gently grazed her heated skin, the warmth rising as if from a crackling hot fire in the hearth. He dipped his fingers between her thighs testing the moisture there and found she was sopping wet. He played there for a bit, smiling. Somehow chance had brought him a woman who matched his tastes exactly. “Spread wider, Cici.” He took his foot and moved hers apart until the drawers that were stuck at her knees were stretched to the limit. “Very good, now stay this way until I say you can move. I’m going to catch up on my personal correspondence in the meantime.”

  So Cici stood, bent over the bench with her bright red, swollen and burning bum on display and a persistent and tantalizing tingling between her thighs. After thirty minutes had passed and Andrew had not gotten an ounce of work accomplished, he decided to have mercy on her and himself. “You did quite well for your first birching. Your skin is a becoming rosy red but doesn’t have a single bruise or cut upon it, although it was a very mild punishment.”

  “I have to say, husband, your idea of mild contrasts greatly with my own.”

  “That is because you are new to this. The birch is a schoolroom punishment tool, Cici. Young children and ladies have been disciplined with the birch by old governesses for centuries. Surely if a child can bear it, then you can as well.”

  Rising from his chair, he crossed the room. “Let’s get your spanking out-of-the-way and move on to more pleasurable pursuits.”

  “Oh Andrew, surely I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” Andrew chided then proceeded to swat her seven times with his open palm as promised. He concentrated on her sit spots and thighs which he had avoided after the first round with the birch, knowing that a hand spanking was to follow. With each sharp smack, she yelped but held her position. Once he was done she was a uniform red from the top of her curvy hillocks to mid-thigh. He soothed her inflamed skin with a warm, gentle caress of his hand before asking, “Now then, Cici, which was worse - my hand or the birch rod?”

  “The birch husband, it was most impersonal and caused the most terrible stinging and burning.”

  “You can avoid it in the future by minding your naughty tongue. Now that we have that ugly business behind us, let’s see what I can do about this curious bit of moisture I see below.” He slipped two finger
s into her moisture and delighted in the grip of her muscles around him. “I believe you protested a bit much, Cici, you are drenched.”

  Moaning in mortification she hid her flaming face in her hands. She was just like the doxy he had compared her to. What decent woman became aroused by being bared and disciplined by her husband?

  She felt a gentle tap on her tender bottom and the heat of his breath along her skin as he crouched down behind her. “None of that now, what happens between us in private isn't anything for you to be embarrassed about. I love the way you respond to my touch. Let’s get these drawers off you.” She felt the material slide down her legs as he helped her out of the garment. “Now, spread your legs wider and I’ll see what I can do about this other burning, my love.”

  Despite the indignity of the position, she obeyed and when the coolness of the air reached her inflamed intimate flesh, she felt the warm lap of her husband’s tongue. She groaned as he soothed the ache, licking the throbbing hard bud then moving further up and inside her tight channel. “Oh Andrew, what you do to me?”

  The vibration of his chuckle against her sensitized flesh made her gasp in delight and she wantonly pressed back against him, searching for more. He played for another few minutes then she felt him rise and stand behind her. “I must have you this instant,” he declared in a husky voice and his length speared deep inside her. Clasping his large hands to her silken hips, he began to glide smoothly into her. He noticed that her arched back opened her up and she accepted every inch of him. The pleasure was almost too much to bear as he increased his pace.

  “Merciful heavens, Cici, you fit me like a glove.”

  “It's happening again, Andrew. The pressure is too much to bear.”

  “Let go then and come for me. Grip my cock with those tight little muscles as you take your pleasure.” Faster and deeper he plunged until he felt her intimate grip. As she climaxed she reached back and clasped her small hands around his wrists. Her nails dug into his flesh as she emitted a guttural groan and began to quiver and convulse beneath him. He quickly followed and his husky groan was the last sound before he collapsed on her back.

  “Thunder an’ turf wife, I am like a virgin with his first woman around you.” He ground his hips against her bottom savoring the feel of her before he softened and had to pull out. “We are going to have to practice until we can build up our endurance.” Standing, he looked down as he withdrew from her body. The sight of his shaft glistening from their combined juices was very erotic.

  He helped her to stand and turned her into his arms. She was a sight. Her long hair mussed and clinging to her tear-stained flushed cheeks. Her chemise had slipped off her shoulders further exposing her breasts and her nipples were still peaked in arousal. “You my beauty, look like a well chastened and well-loved wife. Do you think you learned a lesson?”

  “Oh yes, I learned that I am woefully uneducated in the marital act.” She then gave a dramatic sigh and leaned into him. “The sad thing is that you appear to be all used up and out of practice. So I should have married a younger man who can keep up with me.”

  She squealed as his hands dropped to cup her hot bottom and she was pulled up against her husband in a full body embrace. “I’ll show you what this old man can do my sassy little tease.” She didn’t mind the discomfort of his hands or the firm pressure of his desk against her aching derriere. All she cared about was his lips on her breasts and his hard length deep inside her as he tupped her on his desk until she was limp with exhaustion.

  “Not bad for an old man, eh?” he asked later. He said this smugly as he stared down at her body looking lovely and done in.

  “I’m not sure, Andrew,” she draped her arm across her eyes to block the mischievous expression she knew was on his face. “I may have dozed off there at the end, so I’ll have to ask for a repeat performance when you get your stamina up.”

  He stared at her incredulously. She had wrung every ounce of energy from his 28-year-old form and he had made her come no less than four times, yet she dared to tease him for more? He then burst out in laughter when he saw her bountiful breasts begin to shimmy and a giggle escaped beneath her arm.

  Unable to resist he glided his fingers up her rib cage and tickled her mercilessly.

  “No Andrew, stop. I am too ticklish.” Writhing and squirming she tried to avoid his torturous hands as she laughed until she cried. “Please, I yield. You are young and virile, the Casanova of London, the Don Juan of our time.” He scooped her up in his arms and sat with her in his lap. Tickling her ear with his tongue, his fingers danced along her sensitive sides. Wriggling and curling against him she was unable to get him to stop and begged some more. “Please Andrew, I’m sorry. I’ll wet myself if you don’t stop.”

  “Say it, my love; give me the words, an abracadabra, or hey presto. Give me the enchanted incantation that gives you power over your Lord.

  “I don’t know…” She laughed as he tickled. Then it dawned on her and she wailed the words he desired. “I surrender, Your Grace.”

  Finally, he stopped and cuddled her close. “Ah yes, there they are… the magic words.”

  Chapter Ten

  The footman assisted Cici and her maid down from the coach.

  “I’m not liking the looks of this neighborhood, Yer Grace.” Mary said this nervously as she looked up and down the street.

  Cici also scanned the street where Fortier’s Bookshop stood. Determined to get the special book on the Arrandale estate, she ignored the shady characters that loitered about. “We’ll be in and out in a moment. The proprietor at Hatchard’s alerted the owner to hold the book for me.”

  “I agree with Miss Mary, Your Grace. His lordship will have my head when he finds out I let you out here.”

  “His lordship never needs to know. This is a surprise for his birthday next week, so we must keep this to ourselves. Now, let’s hurry so we can get back to the safety of Grosvenor Square.”

  The old door creaked as they entered and bells jingled overhead. Someone called from the back. “Be with you momentarily.”

  Cici looked around and wrinkled her nose at the dust collecting everywhere. This was a far cry from Hatchard’s with its neatly lined shelves and tables. This shop had books piled haphazardly on tables and the tall shelves were extremely disorganized.”

  “Your Grace, let me get the book while you go back to the safety of the coach.” Henry, her footman, was getting quite agitated.

  “Nonsense, this will only take a moment. Besides, while we’re here, I’d like to take a look around.”

  Cici eyed the two other men in the shop. They stared at her, certainly shocked to see a lady of her standing in this establishment. Another man popped in off the street. He paused for a moment shifting nervously from side to side, then disappeared quickly between some shelves when she looked toward him.

  “Henry, maybe you can hurry Mr. Fortier along? Mary and I will just take a quick look around.”

  Henry looked skeptical, but nodded and did as he was bid.

  “But My Lady, this place is a mess. Your gown…”

  “I won’t touch anything, Mary. Look at how old some of these books are.” Cici wandered between two of the bookshelves browsing the faded titles on the spines. Many were first editions and quite old. She wished she had time to search through the old tomes, but that would have to be at a later date. Her servants would not be happy if she lingered.

  An hour later, the footman and her maid were helping Cici hobble up the walkway. She hissed in pain as she set her right foot down to test its strength.

  “I won’t be able to manage the stairs. Mary, please run in and see if my husband is at home. I think I am going to need his help.” The maid hurried inside to summon assistance.

  “I can carry you, My Lady. I don’t think His Grace will be pleased if I let you further injure yourself.”

  “Do you think you can manage, Henry?”

  “I am stronger than I appear.” With that said the footman who
looked no older than herself, scooped her up into his arms. He proceeded to carry her up the walk and the six stone steps and through the front door that Mary had left ajar.

  “Don’t forget the package, Henry. I left it in the coach. After all we went through to get that book; I’d hate to lose it.”

  “I’ll fetch it as soon as we get you inside, Your Grace.”

  Cici groaned in pain despite the young man’s gentle hold. Her shoulder ached as well as her bottom and her ankle throbbed terribly.

  “What in the hell is going on here?” The roar from behind them startled Henry so much he almost dropped her. He managed at the last minute to maintain the hold on her shoulders so only her legs flopped inelegantly to the floor.

  The jarring thud to her injured ankle sent pain racing through Cici and she cried out her discomfort. This got Andrew’s attention and he rushed to her side, pulling her to his chest and away from the fumbling footman. Turning with her in his arms, he carried her to the salon and set her gently on the settee. Unaware of her injuries, he was shocked when she howled in pain.

  “Someone better tell me what is going on, immediately.” His scorching gaze flew from his wife’s pain riddled form to her maid.

  “We were… in the book… shop… when a shelf… toppled over and near… killed Her Grace,” Mary said this in a stuttering tearful voice that was barely intelligible.

  “Andrew, you’re frightening the poor girl. I am fine, but I think I have sprained my ankle and have a bruised spot on my shoulder. Henry, please send for the physician as soon as you complete that errand.”

  “A book shelf fell on you? How could that be?” Andrew was instantly attentive, examining her bruised and swollen ankle.

  “I’m not sure. I felt books and shelving falling from above and I tried to run but tripped. It was quite and ordeal.”

  “This happened at Hatchard’s?”

  “Well, no it was at another shop.”

  “West Haven’s?”

  “No, another.”