Disciplining The Thief - Complete Series (Historical Victorian Forbidden First Time Steamy Romance)

by Georgia Fowler

  Peering into the richly decorated study, she saw Colette sitting on the large leather sofa, dressed impeccably in a deep blue gown. The elegant head raised as the door opened. “Come in, Abigail,” she said, her voice clear and resonant. Abigail had no doubt as to why Colette was so renowned as a singer. Never had she heard a voice so pure and true in sound.

  Abigail shyly entered the room and stood before the woman. A covered basket lay mysteriously at Colette’s feet. A beat of silence passed as Colette seemed to be collecting herself and organizing what she would like to say. Finally, she raised her piercing ocean blue eyes, freezing Abigail in place.

  “Although we’ve known each other in person a short time, I feel as if I have known you much longer. You may not know this but Jeremiah is a masterful writer and can recount the most vivid tales through letters. I feel as if I have been in this house since your very arrival.” Colette smoothed her skirts. “But I realize the feeling is not yet reciprocated. Understandably so. I am very much still new to you and I am sure Jeremiah has been scant in details about myself. His descriptive nature seems to exist only in written form.” Colette smiled wryly. “So I found myself in quite the quandary. I so wish for a closeness between us but I also feel I must impress upon you the expectations I have of you not just as Lord Brynwood’s ward but also as my own. I will soon become just as responsible for you as Jeremiah and I refuse,” she declared, narrowing her eyes, “to have any ward of mine act as unbecomingly as you did this afternoon with Mr. Oglethorpe.”

  Abigail’s own eyes widened. Her heart sank immediately as she realized that her tantrum had not been as private as she thought it had. Truthfully, she should perhaps be glad it had been witnessed by Colette. Perhaps it would induce her to urge Lord Brynwood to rid himself of such a troublesome ward. Yet Abigail could see a gleam of determination and resignation in the woman’s eyes that was too similar to one she often saw in Lord Brynwood’s eyes. It was a kind of gleam that made her pulse race and her palms sweat.

  “So I’ve decided that we will grow close through your first punishment. Remove your skirts,” she said calmly.

  Abigail felt her breathing grow more shallow by the minute. So Colette was aware that she wore separate a skirt and bodice. What else had Lord Brynwood told the lady? She felt a nervous rush that was completely and uniquely different from the one she felt in Lord Brynwood’s presence. Being dressed down so and punished by a woman seemed more intimate and familiar. And more humiliating.

  Seeing her frozen form, Colette’s eyes darkened in disapproval. “I do not like to repeat myself, poppet. Remove your skirts.”

  Abigail felt desperate tears springing to her eyes. She knew she had brought this onto herself, intentionally at that. But realizing she was facing punishment from such an elegant woman made her feel so incredibly small and foolish. “Oh please, Miss Colette! Please! I promise to behave! Please!” Abigail begged.

  Colette’s cold eyes showed no mercy. “What a naughty and stubborn child! I can see a punishment is long overdue for you!” She reached out with a long arm and roughly turned Abigail around. Quickly unbuttoning the short skirt, Colette pulled it and her drawers down, leaving Abigail nude from the waist down, save for her stockings.

  Abigail cried out in surprised humiliation and tried to cover herself. But Colette only slapped her hands away in irritation. “What kind of child tries to hide herself from her betters? Now show you know true contrition by laying yourself down on this sofa,” Colette ordered, moving down to make room for her.

  Shameful tears began to fall down her cheeks. Abigail felt somehow more naked in front of Colette than she did in front of the earl. “Oh please, Miss Colette,” Abigail begged, sniffling. “I truly do promise to be a better little girl!”

  Long fingers gripped her waist and turned her about. A firm hand landed in a loud smack against her already reddened bottom. Abigail cried out, more in shame than pain. “Now, are you going to do as I say or do I need to further redden that bottom of yours?” Colette replied coolly as she turned Abigail around.

  Now openly crying, Abigail shook her head, too shamed to further fight. Gingerly she sat on the smooth leather couch, trying to take care to keep her legs closed. “Lie back,” Colette ordered. With a moan of humiliation, Abigail pulled her legs up and laid back against the couch. In such a position, there was no way to hide anything from Colette but regardless, Abigail kept her knees bent and legs together, futilely trying to hide what she knew was already clearly visible.

  Satisfied, Colette leaned down and picked up the covered basket. “Now personally,” she started, as she lifted the cover off the basket, “I don’t like to mete out corporal punishment. Not because I have a distaste for it, mind, but just because I feel a male hand can give more of an appropriate wallop than a female’s can.” Colette’s lips twitched as she looked over Abigail’s vulnerable prostrate form.

  “So it is quite difficult for me to properly punish someone. In a recital, if I see a young girl exhibiting poor attitude, a quick pinch of the nipple and a harsh word normally puts them in their place. But I can see that that would clearly not be enough for our little Abigail.” Colette pulled something out of the basket and set it on her knees. Abigail tried to strain her neck to see what it was but couldn’t catch a good look over her bent knees and Colette’s thick skirts.

  Suddenly grabbing Abigail’s delicate ankles in one hand, Colette leaned forward. “If you choose to behave as a little child too ignorant and young to understand good manners, than as a young child you shall be treated!” With that, she jerked Abigail’s ankles up, lifting her legs high above her so that her waist actually lifted off the sofa. Crying out in surprise, she tried to wriggle away but was held in too awkward a position for her to get much leverage. She saw Colette push a thick cloth beneath her before lowering her bottom back onto the sofa.

  With her feet back on the sofa, Colette firmly pushed her hands between Abigail’s knees, opening her legs wide. Abigail’s hands immediately shot down to cover herself but Colette’s long fingers pinched her exposed clit hard, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from Abigail. “Little ones are always open and exposed to their betters,” she lectured, still pinching the tiny nub of sensitive flesh.

  Tears gathered at Abigail’s lashes as the pinch increased in strength, making her howl in pain. When Colette finally released her, Abigail lay back on the sofa, limp and sweaty from the struggle. Colette quickly and efficiently pulled the cloth up between her legs. It was only as she watched Colette fastening it did she realize what was happening. She was being put into a diaper!

  “Mi-Miss Colette! Wh-what are you doing?” she whispered, her eyes growing wide in horror.

  Colette kept her eyes focused on pinning the sides of the thick diaper. “I think it should be quite clear what I am doing. You are being treated as the age you are acting as, which essentially is infantile. Why should you get the honor of dressing as a respectable girl when clearly your behavior is that of a petulant child?” Finished pinning Abigail into the diaper, Colette sat back and admired her handiwork. “Now stand for me.”

  Sniffling, Abigail stood up on shaky legs. With the thick padding awkwardly sitting between her legs, she was forced to stand a bit bow-legged, making her instantly feel like the silly infant she was dressed as.

  Colette clapped her hands together and pressed them to her chest, a pleased smile playing against her full lips. “My, my, you do make a pretty baby, little poppet!” Colette’s laugh was musical and gay. Catching Abigail’s face, she gave a mock frown. “Now, now. You have no right to pout. I saw how you utterly terrified Mr. Oglethorpe this afternoon with your wildness.”

  Terrified! Abigail thought. The man had blistered her bottom for her shenanigans!

  “Now, go on upstairs and tell your maid to ready you for dinner,” Colette ordered, picking up Abigail’s skirts.

  Abigail paused, thinking Colette was about to help her step back into her dress. When she made no move to hand over the
skirts, Abigail stuttered, “Miss Co-Colette, my skirt....”

  Colette sat nonplussed. “Naughty little children get sent up to their room in their diaper,” Colette said, voice clearly serious.

  The horrifying realization that she would have to walk out of the study and down the hall in nothing but her bodice top and a diaper sank in. Tears ran anew down Abigail’s cheeks. So completely bared and humiliated, Abigail felt a new level of vulnerability in front of the elegant woman.

  “Now, hop to!” Colette said, clapping her hands to gather Abigail’s attention. Seeing the firm set in the lady’s brow, Abigail had no choice but to turn around and head out of the study. Peeking her head out the door, she checked to make sure no maids were anywhere to be seen. But before she could completely reassure herself that she was safe from peeping eyes, a hard smack landed square on her diapered bottom.

  “I said, hop to!” Colette’s voice rang from behind her.

  Abigail quickly scurried out of the office, feeling the diaper rub between her legs every step of the way.

  Five

  As she reached the top of the stairs, Abigail tried not to drag her feet. Dinner had been a dismal affair for her and the evening still hadn’t yet ended. She had been ordered to bring down her report from Mr. Oglethorpe as per usual. Abigail couldn’t understand why she was being made to observe this formality. Lord Brynwood knew how she had behaved. For goodness sake, he could see it!

  Abigail had been floored when her maid had entered her room, announcing that she had been ordered by Miss Livingston to only help Abigail wash her face and comb out her hair for dinner. No skirts allowed. She was to come back downstairs wearing just her bodice and diaper, nothing else. Not even her shoes.

  Thinking back to when she entered the dining room, Abigail shuddered remembering Lord Brynwood’s stony gaze. He had clearly been filled in on Abigail’s afternoon antics and her subsequent punishment. The tiny flame of hope that Abigail had been harboring for Lord Brynwood to be appalled by her diaper punishment disappeared in a puff of smoke. It was evident the earl completely endorsed the punishment.

  Grabbing the sealed report, Abigail slowly marched back down the steps to the earl’s study. Although she was mortified to be standing in the hallway in hardly anything but a cloth diaper, she was even more reluctant to enter the study where both Lord Brynwood and Colette waited. But she had no choice.

  Taking in a deep breath, she opened the door and peered in, waiting to be acknowledged.

  “Come in,” the earl intoned. He sat in one of his leather chairs facing the fireplace while Colette reclined on the sofa. Abigail entered and stood in the middle of the room, facing both the lord and his lady.

  Lord Brynwood took a slow meditative sip of his brandy. Abigail felt her heart thud with each passing second of silence. “You know, my dear,” he finally said, addressing Colette, “I had so wished for you to meet the charming girl that had flourished under my care while you were in Paris.” Abigail felt icy cold shame and guilt flood her stomach as she heard the regret in the earl’s voice. But it’s okay, she thought, trying to console herself. If he was regretful, maybe he was preparing himself to rescind his legal guardianship.

  “But it looks like I had been fooled by our little hoyden’s progress. A wild and brutish little urchin is still behind those doll eyes and I am grateful to you, my love, for taking a quick and decisive hand in nipping her outlandish behavior very much in the bud today.” Lord Brynwood raised his glass slightly in a toast to his beautiful fiancée.

  Colette inclined her head in acknowledgement. “Dearest, I know you tried your best with our little Abigail. But it is clear she needs a firmer hand if she is to properly thrive under our care.” Colette’s dark blue eyes, nearly purple in the dim study light, roved across Abigail’s diapered form, only humiliating Abigail further. Colette looked stunning in her blue gown and pinned hair while Abigail knew she must make a pitiful sight in stockinged feet and a diapered bottom.

  “Bring me the report,” Lord Brynwood commanded, a hand extended for the note. Afraid of immediately being seized and spanked, Abigail quickly placed the sealed note in his hands before hoping back to the middle of the floor.

  Instead of opening it, Lord Brynwood gave Abigail a thoughtful look that made her feel ominously nervous. Not taking his eyes off of Abigail, he asked Colette, “What shall we do, darling, to show our disappointment and displeasure in our little one?”

  Colette tilted her head to one side thoughtfully, as if weighing different options. “Well, didn’t you tell me that you’ve been ending most of her nights on the training dildo?”

  Lord Brynwood nodded as he took another sip of his brandy. “I did.”

  “And did all her rides end happily?”

  Lord Brynwood’s eyes narrowed against Abigail as if regretting the truth of his answer. “They did.” Abigail cringed. It was true. She had come hard with every ride.

  “Then, my love, why not show her how deep our frustrations run tonight? Show her how grateful she should be for all she has been blessed with,” Colette said sweetly, smiling lovingly at the earl.

  Lord Brynwood’s eyes darkened in anticipation. “A capital idea indeed,” he murmured. After taking another sip, Lord Brynwood put down his glass and her unopened report with a decisive air. Pointing a long finger at her diaper, he ordered, “Unpin it and take it off.”

  Abigail sucked in a shaky breath. She could feel the tension crackling in the air between all three of them. There was a tangible energy within the room and Abigail knew that one wrong step and the tension would explode in a storm of sparks and fire. Feeling her lips trembling already, she unpinned her diaper and placed it neatly, pins and all, on the ground next to her.

  “Now come here,” Lord Brynwood ordered. Abigail obediently stepped forward. Lord Brynwood turned her around by her shoulder and began quickly undoing the buttons to her bodice. As Abigail realized she was about to be stripped completely, she tried to grab onto the top futilely as it came down. Lord Brynwood jerked it off and tossed it aside. She was now completely nude, save for her stockings.

  “Turn around and look at me,” Lord Brynwood ordered, his voice low with authority and lust. With tears at her lashes, Abigail turned. Despite his anger, Lord Brynwood murmured in approval at her slight and petite frame. Lightly handling a tiny breast, Lord Brynwood remarked, “Does she not have the most delicate chest, my love?”

  “Very. And so sweet looking as well,” Colette murmured, her voice warm with arousal. Through her tears, Abigail looked towards Colette in confusion. She had sounded sincere in her praise. But how could a woman say that about another woman’s breasts?

  Lord Brynwood lightly slapped Abigail’s bottom. “Go show Colette your gratitude for her kind words about your delicate tits, little one.” When Abigail stood frozen, he grabbed both nipples and pinched hard. Abigail cried out as pain and pleasure shot directly down to her pussy like an arrow to a bullseye. “Now.”

  As soon as Lord Brynwood released her, Abigail fell towards Colette, not wanting to test the earl’s patience any further. She caught herself right before tumbling into Colette’s lap. Standing in front of the beautiful woman naked, Abigail had no idea what was expected of her. But her worries were soon brushed away when Colette’s long fingers wrapped themselves around her arms, pulling her naked body closer.

  “Those sweet little rosebud lips have been calling out to me since the day I arrived,” Colette murmured, her dark eyes glowing. “Let’s have a taste, shall we?” And before Abigail could prepare herself, Colette’s soft full lips took complete possession over her own. Running her tongue along Abigail’s lips, Colette teased and flirted with her mouth.

  Abigail felt her head spin and her heart race as a wave of overwhelming lightness and pleasure flooded her entire body. She had never been kissed by a woman. She had never felt such softness, such intimacy, such sweetness within a kiss before. It was intoxicating and Abigail felt herself growing dizzier with each passi
onate plunge of Colette’s tongue.

  “Colette, let our little one show you how truly sorry she is for being less than what she is capable of,” Lord Brynwood said thickly from behind them.

  Colette’s eyes darkened and her cheeks were stained a beautiful rose blush. With deliberate hands, she began pulling up her heavy skirts and petticoats. She pulled till the fabric bunched around her waist, revealing her own cunny to Abigail’s wide eyes. “Kneel,” Colette whispered, her voice aching with need.

  Abigail, stunned and entranced by the sight of Colette’s neatly trimmed cunny, fell to her knees. Colette gently pressed her hand to the back of Abigail’s head as she leaned against the couch, bringing Abigail head along with her. Only mere inches away from Colette’s womanhood, Abigail could smell the earthy musk of Colette’s arousal.

  Feeling the gentle pressure of Colette’s hand on her head, Abigail knew what was expected of her. With a hesitant tongue, she lowered her head and had her first taste of woman.

  Feeling herself just as aroused and needy as the woman above her, Abigail felt herself driven mad by smelling and tasting Colette’s arousal. Tasting another woman’s need only seemed to strengthen her own. She lapped at Colette’s cunny with a hunger she had never known before, reveling in the clean musky sweetness that poured from her.

  Colette moaned above her. Abigail could feel her cunny pulse underneath her tongue. Abigail moaned as well, hers muffled against the soft wetness. She was just as needy if not more and was dying to receive some kind of release.

  Above her, a rustle of fabric disrupted her hair. Not taking her tongue away, Abigail looked up to see Lord Brynwood passionately kissing his beautiful, delicious fiancée. Abigail felt a surge of heat bloom within her as she listened to the couple kiss each other above her. She realized she was only servicing them for their pleasure. She felt completely owned and possessed. Although she did feel a tinge of shame from her degrading position, she also felt an aching need the likes of which she had never experienced before. It felt incredibly arousing to know that she was a part of their lovemaking yet some how below.