by Maggie Ryan
Lucy watched as the experienced groom fought to control the huge animal. When he opened a stall and led Diablo inside, she was about to make a break for the door when Jasper stepped out again. Jasper spoke softly to the prized stallion, stating he'd return to groom him soon. Then he went into the tack room. Praying he would remain inside the room, she stood up and chanced sliding along the wall, freezing like a statue with every sound she heard.
The barn door looked an impossible distance away as she tried not to think about what would happen if she were seen. Hearing some rather colorful words coming from the tack room, accompanied with the sound of jangling harnesses, she held her breath and darted towards escape. At the door, she glanced back to see Diablo looking straight towards her. When the stallion lifted his head and whinnied loudly, as if to alert Jasper to the presence of the naughty girl, she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp and flew out the door.
Lucy released her pent up-breath only to moan again at the onslaught of the wind. She hadn't thought to put on any boots, and her slippers were soaked through. It seemed to take twice as long to reach the kitchen door. A horse's neigh had her twisting around, her heart pounding as she looked back towards the barn as if to find Diablo chasing after her. Instead, she saw Jasper was leading Samson into the barn. That meant only one thing; the men had returned. Her eyes darted about—where was Papa? Gasping, she pulled the kitchen door handle and whimpered when it refused to budge. Had she been discovered? Had someone locked her out of the house? Panicking, she pulled again, harder, before remembering she needed to push the door open. When she did so, it flew open and she stumbled into the warmth of the kitchen—and the hard slab of her Papa's chest.
"Lucy! What in the hell?" he said, as he caught her around her shoulders.
"Hello, Papa," she said, her teeth chattering even as her mind whirled. "Is everyone okay? I mean, the people you visited? How is little Jenny?" She realized she was babbling, but was willing to say anything to keep his mind off the questions she knew would be forthcoming. "Is she recovered from her illness?"
"We'll discuss Jenny at a later time. Right now, explain to me exactly what you were doing outside when you've been expressly told to remain in the house."
"You said I could go outside when the weather cleared," Lucy attempted, turning to point out the window only to see that fat flakes had begun to fall again. "Oh. Um, it had stopped snowing."
Lucas shook his head. "Lucy, you know I meant when the weather had completely cleared, not just a brief pause. Not only did you disobey me, you have caused your nanny and your sisters to worry."
"I only wanted to give Delilah a treat. I didn't know that Diablo—"
"You were in the barn? You are telling me that you not only snuck out of the house, but you also deliberately disobeyed my rule that you never step foot near the barns without me?"
"But, Papa, I didn't know! Diablo is usually in the outer stable. I swear, I didn't go near him. I only wanted to give Delilah a few carrots." Lucy's heart was pounding, the look on her Papa's face one she very rarely saw.
"You are well aware that not only are you forbidden to visit the barn unescorted, you are expected to keep Nanny Molly informed as to your whereabouts. It is a privilege you have abused, but I assure you that that can be corrected with the simple rule that you shall no longer be allowed out of her sight."
"I didn't mean to worry anyone. I wanted to—"
"Nor is this about what you want. We both know why you chose to keep your destination a secret. You are to go upstairs and wait in your naughty corner for me."
"But, Papa, I'm freezing and it's cold upstairs!"
"You'd prefer to present yourself for your spanking right here, before this fireplace?"
The naughty little voice prompted her to answer that she'd rather not have a spanking at all. However, Lucy wasn't a stupid girl, and she most certainly understood by his phrasing that she wasn't going to have her skirts lifted and her drawers lowered for a few swats against her bottom. Her Papa's steady gaze as his eyes held hers made it easy to push the voice aside as she shook her head.
"No, Sir. I'll go upstairs." Her attempt to back pedal, to pull from his hold, failed as he nodded.
"Yes, you will, but not quite yet. I promise you won't be cold much longer. Don't move."
Mrs. Grover had entered the kitchen and though she didn't say a single word, Lucy heard her disappointment as the woman tsked, tsked as she began to putter about as she prepared tea. Lucy felt another rush of guilt as her feet shuffled on the floor, droplets of water dripping onto the stone flooring as the snow melted off her cape. When Molly entered as well and stood, arms crossed and the toe of her boot tapping against the floor, Lucy could not meet her eyes.
"And where exactly have you been, Lucille?" Molly asked sternly. "Your sister and I expected you in the library an hour ago!"
Before Lucy could answer, her Papa returned. "She's been outside and in the barn but will soon be in her corner," he said. Lucas picked her up, only to plunk her down onto the heavy oak table that was used as a work surface.
Seeing what he held in his hand, she moaned. "Oh, Papa, please no."
"Oh, Lucille Rose, yes." Placing the fat, knobby ginger root onto the table, he removed her ruined slippers and her stockings, passing them to Molly before giving her legs and feet a brisk rubdown until they no longer felt like ice. Removing her cape, he rubbed her arms before taking her face between his large palms. "You will not only find yourself nice and warm as soon as I heat your naughty backside, you'll be nice and warm inside as well. As for your trip to the barn, you'll pay for that on Sunday."
Blushing hotly, she was set on her feet, a loud swat applied to her backside. Louisa's hand was taken by her nanny, and she was led at a brisk pace through the house.
Ettie stood at the entry to the library, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. Molly gave the girl a nod as she continued towards the stairs. Once upstairs, Louisa was pulled into her husband's bedchamber and walked towards the corner before her hand was released.
"Don't make me tell you what your Papa expects," Molly said.
Lucy nodded and pressed her nose against the unforgiving wall, putting her arms on top of her head, feeling the skin of her bottom crawling as her skirts and petticoats were lifted and secured to the buttons on her shoulders. She mewed as her drawers were pulled down to her ankles.
"I suggest you not move a single muscle," Molly said, as she ran her palm across Lucy's bottom. "This little rear might be chilly now, but by the time you've answered for your foolishness, I'm sure it will be quite hot indeed."
Lucy didn't answer; nothing needed to be said. Instead, she heard the door closing as her nanny left her alone to wait for her very disappointed Papa to join her.
*****
Lucas accepted a cup of tea from Franny. "Thank you," he said as he sat back in his favorite chair.
He sighed. He'd been looking forward to coming home, getting out of the weather and enjoying his family, his little one curled on his lap as they talked about their day. Instead, his lap was empty, and the corner upstairs full of his trembling naughty girl. God, she was a stubborn little thing, and though her attempts at getting around some of his rules could make him smile, he found nothing amusing when she did anything that might jeopardize her health or her life.
He thought of Jenny. She was a sickly child, and had come within a hair's breadth of death. Lucas had made sure she was seen regularly by his own family doctor. Her parents, Johnathon and Marietta Davis, were good people. Both had grown up at Hunter's Ridge. They were the second generation of tenant farmers; their love of the land obvious in the small, well-tended garden behind their home and the condition of the fields surrounding it. Lucas appreciated their loyalty, and would do all he could to ensure that little Jenny recovered fully.
Setting his cup aside, he realized that Ettie and Franny were watching him, concerned looks on their faces. "Don't fret so," he said with a weary smile. "It's not
the first time your sister has made a choice that lands her in trouble, and I'm sure it won't be the last."
"We know," Franny said with her own soft smile. "It's just that you look so tired."
"I'm fine," Lucas assured her, standing and then squatting in front of the settee where both girls sat. "I am never too tired to take care of anything my girls need—be it to apply a much needed spanking, a shoulder to cry on, or ears to listen. I promise, Lucy will be just fine." He stood and bent to kiss their cheeks before leaving the library. It was time to deal with his little one. The faster he took care of her discipline, the faster she'd be forgiven and the household could return to normal. It still amazed him that no matter which girl under his roof was facing discipline, the others were always sympathetic to the miscreant's welfare.
Opening his door, his eyes immediately went to his left. Lucy was standing as required, her pale bare bottom pushed out into the room. It wouldn't be pale long. Removing his coat and vest, he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, all without speaking. Looking at the wardrobe that housed the many implements he used on his naughty girl, he shook his head. He wouldn't open the doors today.
Sitting on the leather chair in front of the fire, he readied himself. "Come here, Lucy." She appeared before him, her hands twisting in the fabric of her skirts, her bare toes curling into the carpet. He helped her step from the drawers puddled at her ankles. "Go into the water closet and bring me your hairbrush."
As she turned to obey, Lucas couldn't help but smile. It was a dichotomy of innocence and guilt. From the front, she looked like a properly dressed young lady. However, the moment she turned, her bare bottom was presented, and he could see she was clenching and unclenching the plump globes. She returned to stand before him, the heavy wooden brush in her hand. Lifting it, she held it out to him.
"I'm sorry, Papa." Her voice was soft. "I shouldn't have gone outside. I shouldn't have gone to the barn. It was wrong."
"Yes, it was," Lucas agreed as he took the brush, and used his free hand to take one of hers, guiding her down across his knee. Lifting his other leg, he crossed both of hers in a silent communication that the spanking was going to be having her kicking her legs unless they were contained. "Give me your hands."
Once her hands were behind her back, he gripped them in one of his. "Let's heat this bottom up, shall we?" He didn't expect an answer and didn't wait for one. Placing the brush on the table by the chair, he began with his hand.
Smack…smack…smack… resounded again and again as his palm connected to her backside. He continued, each smack crisp and distinct as he covered the entire surface of her bottom, not pausing until her skin was flushed pink and her soft mews had turned into louder moans. Picking up the brush, he rubbed it against her flesh. "I am extremely disappointed in you. You were well aware of what I meant, and yet tried to twist my words around to justify your actions. You knew that when the weather clears, I would escort you to see Delilah. Instead, you made a conscious decision to disobey your Papa. A decision that might have had horrid consequences if Diablo had got away from Jasper. I will not tolerate deliberate disobedience, Lucille."
"I'm so sorry, Papa."
"Then let this lesson remind you what happens to little girls who don't wish to be obedient." The brush lifted and landed with a solid thwack, bouncing off her bottom, leaving a white oval that quickly turned red. Thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack…
Each stroke left its mark, her bottom quickly turning from pink to red, her tears flowing as she began to wail and sob. The brush delivered a much harder stroke than his hand, and her bottom was soon bucking and churning over his lap.
"Be still, Lucille. Prove you are sorry by accepting your paddling. Relax your buttocks and push your naughty bottom up for your Papa," he said.
Lucy's sobs filled the room even as she loosened her clenched buttocks. He continued to rub the brush against her hot flesh until she pushed her hips up. Thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack…thwack! Ten swats were delivered rapidly to her left cheek, followed immediately by ten to her right.
"Please, Papa, please, it hurts!"
"I suggest you stop your pleas and be thankful you are not even now upstairs on your pony. Come Sunday, you'll think this paddling is nothing but a few love pats."
Another ten painted the back of her left thigh, her right receiving the same. When the brush stopped falling, her entire backside was a bright apple red, the skin radiating the warmth he'd promised. Tipping her forward, he gave each of her sit-spots their own spanking, her bucking body challenging the hold he had on her wrists and her legs. A final solid swat was given in the center of her bottom before the brush rested.
"It would be a shame for your sister and Uncle Edward to arrive only to find you restricted to your nursery," he told her. Though she had been sobbing before, this threat had her wailing. Lucas waited until she had calmed a little before continuing. "If you ever leave the house or enter the barn again without asking permission to do so, you'll spend a week in your crib in nothing but your nappy and a gown. You'll take every meal through a bottle, and you'll get this hiney spanked every single day. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Papa, yes," Lucy wailed, her body wilting over his knees, her braids brushing the floor. "Please, Papa, don't do that. I-I am so sorry."
"Think about that as you stand in your corner. Keep that bottom pushed up and out. I don't want to have to remind you how you are to present your spanked arse." Setting her on her feet, he placed the brush on the table as she swiped her cheeks. Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her face and held the cloth to her nose as she blew it. Patting her hot bottom, he asked, "Still cold?"
"No, Sir," she said, her face flushing.
"Good, go now."
Lucy walked back to her corner, pressing her nose hard against the wall, her aching rear pushed up and out. Lucas sat before the fire, his eyes on his wife. He had no doubt that she was not thinking about her hot bottom—she was far more likely to be thinking about the price she'd pay on Sunday, as well as the possible loss of time with her twin. She'd been looking forward to this visit for months, but if that was what it took to teach her that it was pure folly to disobey simple rules, he would restrict her to her nursery. An entire day was probably not necessary to make his point, but it would be up to his little one to decide if a single hour was worth being naughty.
He stood and walked over to his jacket to retrieve the ginger root. Then, returning to his seat by the fireplace, he used his knife, slowing peeling the ginger, flicking the skin into the flames. The room begin to fill with the distinctive scent of it, and he heard Lucy make a soft moan—yet her bottom remained high in the air. Once the root was peeled, he spent several minutes shaping it into a plug. He left the end small and tapered, cutting away the flesh for a bit before shaping a large bulge that would be difficult for her to accept and make it impossible for her to push the plug from her bottom. His knife cut lines across the surface to ensure the irritating juices would be able to seep from the root to be absorbed into her sensitive tissues. Once he was satisfied with his carving, he called to his wife.
Lucy came to him, her eyes flicking to the large root in his hand before dropping to her feet.
"Turn around, bend over and open your cheeks," he said.
She did as he instructed, her small hands pulling apart the hot globes of her arse to expose her tightly puckered bottom-hole. Lucas put a hand on her hip as he placed the tip of the bulb against her opening. "Push back, Lucy."
He ignored her mew as he began to press the root into her bottom. Though she had accepted larger items into her passage, the cold, slippery root's insertion was something her mind had a difficult time accepting.
"Papa, please. Papa, it's cold!"
"Hush, it will be warm soon enough. Push back and open your bottom."
She let out a sharp cry as he gave it a firm push, until the root was successfully inserted and her bottom-hole closed tight
ly around the flange he'd left unpeeled. Patting her backside, he guided her to stand at the side of his chair. "You'll make your penance now. Instead of kneeling, you'll bend over the arm of the chair. I wish to see not only your red bottom, but to ensure your root remains deeply inside."
Lucy nodded, and didn't resist as he positioned her. Once her head was hovering over his lap, her abdomen on the thick, cushioned arm, her legs spread, and her tiptoes taking her weight, she lifted her bottom, reached to unfasten his trousers, and pulled his cock free.
Placing his hand on her hip, his fingers running across her hot skin, Lucas watched her hands encircle his shaft and her head lower as her mouth engulfed his cockhead.
As her head bobbed up and down his shaft, his hands ran across her backside, his fingers pressing against the ginger root. He knew it the moment the juices began to seep from their home to move into her tissues. Her bottom began to twist, her mews audible despite her mouth being filled with his cock.
"You are to focus on making a proper penance, Lucille, not on your discomfort. Stop squirming and start suckling. I want you to swallow my cock as you've been taught."
It took another few minutes before he felt her throat muscles working around the head of his cock, accepting it inside the slim column of her throat. He didn't push up, didn't attempt to seat himself further. This was her penance, and her responsibility to perform to the very best of her abilities. They'd spent months improving her skills until she was capable of obeying his desire, her nose buried in the wiry hairs of his pubis, her throat working to bring him to pleasure.
