by Lucy Wild
“Please don’t go,” Carrie said, appearing at her shoulder. “I fear for you being sent to a strange place with a strange man.”
Amelia managed a laugh. “I’m sure I don’t know what is worrying you,” she said. “I will return no different to how I left and then I shall garner an apology from my father for this ludicrous expedition alongside a doubling of my allowance in recompense.”
A coach and horses pulled up on the gravel as they waited together and Carrie gave her one last squeeze of the hand before lifting her case onto the top of the coach. “You Amelia?” the driver grunted.
“I am Miss Amelia Carrington, daughter of Lord and Lady Carrington, yes. And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“It’s whom Lady Muck, even I know that,” he replied. “Get onboard. We have a long enough journey ahead of us.”
Amelia had hoped her parents would see her off but as she climbed into the coach she realised it was not to be. So be it, they’d soon regret sending her away, she was certain of it. Not only that but she intended to milk their guilt for all it was worth upon her return.
“Where is Mr Jenkins?” she asked the driver as he readied the horses.
“Business,” came the curt response. “He’ll meet you at the house soon enough. Now get on!”
With a twist of the reins they were moving and Amelia took a last look at the house behind her as it shrank into the distance, wondering how she would feel when she saw it again. “Just seven days,” she said out loud to herself. “Only a week, anyone can last a week after all.”
Chapter 4
The coach stopped an hour for lunch and to gain fresh horses before continuing on far into the country. It was almost dark by the time they stopped for the night, taking refuge in a coaching inn by roadside. Amelia protested at the condition of her chambers but the landlord merely roared laughter in her face and left her alone to complain to an empty room.
It was her first night without a maid to help her undress and yet she wondered why she should as she had nothing to change into in her suitcase. Shuddering at the thought of wearing the same drawers two days in a row, she climbed into the rough blankets of her bed and thought she would never sleep on so lumpy a mattress.
She was more tired still the next morning when the driver roused her as the sun rose, insisting they be on their way immediately.
“But I have yet to eat,” she whined as he hefted her suitcase out of the room.
“Should wake up earlier,” he replied.
“I will not leave here until I have eaten,” she snapped, folding her arms.
“I was warned about you,” he snarled, taking a step towards her, the door creaking shut behind him. He towered over her and she felt her vehemence falling away like a cracked eggshell leaking yolk.
“I must eat,” she said, her voice quieter.
“I have something you could eat,” he replied, leering at her. “Would you prefer to eat what I have to give or get moving little Lady Muck?”
“I…I’m not that hungry,” she stuttered, feeling her cheeks darken. She thought dark thoughts as she followed him downstairs and out to the coach, her mind still fermenting as they drove on for another half day. As her stomach growled with hunger they turned off the main thoroughfare onto a far more rutted and potholed track, the horses slowing whilst they climbed up a gentle slope to the top of a hill.
Looking out of the window Amelia observed a dark house in the valley beyond, smoke twirling from one of the chimneys the only sign of life down there. Surrounding the house were a few fields of green shoots and beyond those a wood that climbed up the far side of the valley. The coach skidded slightly down the hill before coming to a stop at the front of the house.
“Off you get then Lady Muck,” called the driver.
Amelia opened the door and stepped out. “Who’s to help me with my case?” she asked, looking around her for any sign of the servant class.
“Let me,” said the driver, unhooking it and flinging it down onto the grass. He laughed at her shocked expression before turning and driving the horses back up the hill.
Amelia dragged the suitcase over the doorstep and looked at the house from close up. It was of a dark stone, pitted with age, the windows tall and shuttered. If it wasn’t for the chimney smoke it would have been easy to think the place abandoned. There was a bell pull beside the door and she yanked at it, hearing an echoing jangle from the hallway beyond.
It was almost half a minute until the door scraped open and a haughty woman in a long black dress peered out at her. “Yes?” she asked, her voice icy.
“I am Miss Amelia Carrington, daughter of Lord and Lady Carrington. I am to stay here a week.”
“Jenkins has another client then. I hope you do better than the last. She ran away after three days.”
“Oh my.”
The woman sighed. “You better come inside and I’ll prepare the nursery.”
“Nursery? Am I to look after a child?”
The woman let out a titter of mirthless laughter. “It will all become clear soon enough. Follow me.”
They walked together down a long hallway, the interior of the house far more welcoming than the foreboding outside. The walls were freshly papered, the carpet thick and luxorious. Turning a corner they ascended a flight of stairs before the woman stopped. “This will be your room for the duration of your stay. Did you bring a case?”
“I did. I left it outside.”
“It will be stored for you. Anything you need from it, you must ask permission. Make yourself comfortable and you will be called upon when Mr Jenkins returns.”
She stepped aside and Amelia walked into the room, jumping as the door slammed shut and locked behind her. She rattled the handle and called out for release but the only answer was a set of fading footsteps in the corridor beyond.
Looking around Amelia saw that this was indeed a nursery although there were elements within which confused her. The cot was far larger than necessary for a babe in arms, long enough in fact for an adult to sleep within. There was a chair and table, crayons and paper piled neatly on top. The window was tall, unshuttered at least, and allowing a view of the rolling fields beyond. A chest of drawers and wardrobe took up either corner surrounding the fireplace which was heaped with dry wood. A rocking horse was in the centre of the room but Amelia frowned as she noticed something sticking up from the seat. Carved out of the same wood of the horse was a cylindrical protuberance that felt smooth to the touch. She winced at the thought of who might desire such an object directly where one might sit to ride the horse. Other toys littered the floor and she spent the time alone tidying them in an attempt to alleviate her boredom.
An hour or so later the door was unlocked and the stern woman stuck her head round, holding out a paper parcel wrapped with string. “You best change into your uniform,” she said, tossing in the package before again locking Amelia inside. “Be sure to remove your knickers if you don’t want to incur the wrath of Mr Jenkins.
Calling after the woman did no good so eventually Amelia picked up the parcel and untied the string. Within were items of clothing more suited to a child than to a nineteen year old woman. A short black pleated skirt, a white shirt, blue and red striped tie, straw hat, long white socks and plain black shoes. Running through each item again, Amelia began to wonder just what sort of place she’d been brought to.
There was a mirror by the window and Amelia undressed quickly, wishing she had matches to light the fire. Her skin puckered in the cold air as she draped her dress over the bed and quickly pulled on the skirt. She blushed at the length of it for her knees and a good portion of her thighs were exposed, the long socks doing little to secure her modesty. The shirt seemed a size too small, the buttons straining across her chest and a gaping hole which revealed a portion of her bare breasts within. Topped with the straw hat, she sat and wrapped the tie round her neck just as the key turned in the lock and the woman stood there again. “Knickers off?” was all she said
.
“Certainly not,” Amelia replied. “The impertinence of even suggesting such a thing!”
“Well Mr Jenkins is here ready to see you, he’ll soon sort you out. Come on then.”
She marched down the hall and Amelia followed, the new shoes rubbing her ankles as she tugged at the hem of her skirt, wishing it were longer. They descended a flight of stairs and then travelled along another passage before stopping by a closed door. The woman turned to face her.
“Once you pass this threshold you are our property until the day you leave. You must agree to whatever is asked of you or the chastisement will be severe. Do you understand?”
“I…I think so but what…?”
The woman opened the door and shoved her through, slamming it shut behind her. Amelia looked around, finding herself in an approximation of a schoolroom. There was a desk and chair in the centre, a taller table at the end before a blackboard. Standing by it with his arms folded was Mr Jenkins. He nodded at Amelia as she entered. “Take a seat,” he said. “Wait, hold on. Do I detect you are wearing knickers?”
“Yes sir for I…”
“I expressly forbid the wearing of drawers did I not?”
“You did sir but…”
“Off with them this instant. Young girls like yourself often have accidents and I would not wish for soiled knickers to clog up my laundry. Come on girl.”
“Excuse me Mr Jenkins but must I do this?”
“You are in my charge for a week and you will obey me without question or it’ll be the worse for you. I intend to give you the discipline which you lacked in your childhood, set the boundaries you need and give you the rewards you are due. I will not ask you again.”
He began tapping his foot impatiently as Amelia tensed up, her hands shaking as she slid them under her skirt and pulled down her knickers, stepping out of them and holding them in the palm of her hand, unsure of what to do next.
“Pass them here,” said Mr Jenkins, taking them and placing them inside a chest of drawers at the side of the room. “Now sit.”
“Yes sir,” said Amelia, perching on the edge of the chair, observing a notepad and pencil on the top of her desk.
“Open your notebook and take heed of my lesson. We will begin with the alphabet.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. He couldn’t be serious. Taking her back to the lessons of her earliest years would bore her senseless.
“Something to say Amelia?”
“I know my alphabet sir.”
“All my charges start at the beginning. That way I begin your education from scratch but I am afraid that counted as speaking out of turn so I must ask you to step up here.”
Amelia reluctantly crossed the room, feeling Mr Jenkins’ smouldering eyes upon her for the entire time. “Bend over this desk,” he said and to her surprise she found herself obeying his command without pausing for thought. He lifted her skirt to expose her bottom, landing a firm spank upon it which made her yelp with pain. As the stinging sensation subsided she realised his hand had remained on her bottom, roughly squeezing it before sliding his way down to the back of her thighs. “We’ll made a good girl of you yet,” he said. “Now it’s time for your morning drink.” He rang a small bell and in walked the stern woman carrying a tray with a baby bottle stood upright in the centre.
“You’re jesting?” Amelia said as the woman placed the bottle on her desk and left without another word.
“Thank you Miss Fisher,” he said as the door closed. “Now take your bottle like a good girl.”
“I will not, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Either you drink from that bottle or you earn another spanking.”
Amelia sighed, picking up the bottle and staring at it.
“You may sit on my lap whilst you drink,” said Mr Jenkins.
He patted his thigh and Amelia felt a strange sense of relaxation wash over her as she climbed onto his lap and shuffled into a comfortable position. “Let me help you,” he said, holding the bottle and leaning her back slightly. He slid it into her mouth as she felt a hardness pressing into her from his lap. Glancing down, she realised what it must be, blushing wildly at the thought that he was undeniably aroused by what was taking place. Eager to please him she began to gulp down the contents of the bottle, squirming slightly in his lap so her buttocks pressed down against that hardness she knew was a result of her presence before him.
“Good girl,” he muttered, stroking her forehead as she drank, seemingly oblivious to her movements on his lap although his voice was quieter than before. “Goodness, you were thirsty. You drank it all.”
He took the bottle from her and set it aside. “Now you must need to use the facilities after so long a drink. You’ll find the toilet in the corner. Make use of it and then return to your desk.
“Excuse me?”
Go on girl. We’ve a lot to get through today.”
“You want me to…?”
He nodded. “Punishment will ensue if you do not do as you are bid you bad little brat. Get over there and use the damn thing!”
In the corner of the room Amelia found a varnished wooden bowl. She was only too aware of his eyes on her as she squatted over it, keeping her knees clamped together to maintain at least some sense of decorum despite the surreal situation she found herself in. To her surprise it took only a moment for a gushing torrent of pee to hiss from her and splash down into the bowl below.
“Good girl,” muttered Mr Jenkins as she finished peeing. “Now back to your seat.”
The rest of the evening was spent reciting and writing the alphabet over and over again until Amelia began to yawn.
“Tired girl,” said Mr Jenkins. “Time for bed I believe. Miss Fisher will find you your sleep attire and I’ll see you in the morning. Be proud of what you’ve achieved on your first day of a proper education.”
Amelia nodded to him and found Miss Fisher waiting in the corridor for her. They made their way back to the nursery where on the bed was a large square of cloth. “Let’s get you undressed,” said Miss Fisher, beginning to undo Amelia’s tie. She tossed aside her hat before undoing her shirt one button at a time. Amelia blushed as her breasts came into view, embarrassed by how hard her nipples appeared. Miss Fisher knelt to pull down her skirt and Amelia’s skin tingled as she felt hot breath on her thighs.
“Lie down,” Miss Fisher said.
“I’m sure I can last the night without an accident.”
“It is the rules of the house. Our charges wear these overnight. Lie down.”
“I will not.”
“Very well.”
Miss Fisher grabbed her arm with surprising strength, flipping her onto her front and raining down blows on her bottom. “Bad girl!” she snapped. “You must learn to do as you are bid.”
Amelia could have sworn that Miss Fisher groped her pussy but it was over so quickly she felt too ashamed to mention it. The pain in her buttocks made her submit to the command to lie down and as the cloth was tied in place she felt that strange sense of relief again, a feeling that no longer was she having to take charge or give orders, instead she could relax and just submit to what she was told.
“You may ride the rocking horse for one minute as a reward for behaving,” Miss Fisher said.
She watched as Amelia walked over to the horse, straddling it but unable to sit properly due to the protruberance sticking garishly upwards. It rubbed between her legs through the cloth, making her throb as she rocked back and forth. Finally she could resist no longer. Tugging the cloth to one side she lifted herself enough to be above the length of smooth varnished wood, nudging it towards her hole. It was just sliding into her when Miss Fisher strode over. “One minute’s over. Bedtime.”
“Oh but…”
“You should have been quicker shouldn’t you?” Miss Fletcher said, lifting her into the cot whilst calling her a good girl before kissing her forehead and blowing out the candle, leaving her locked in darkness. To Amelia it felt odd
being naked except for a piece of cloth but as she closed her eyes and thought of the firmness of Mr Jenkins whilst sat in his lap, a smile flickered across her lips. Six more days to go, she thought, her clit continuing to ache as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 5
The next few days passed in much the same way although the rocking horse was nowhere to be seen. They moved on in the classroom from the alphabet to basic sentences, intermittently paused for spanking if Amelia spoke out of turn or misspelled any words. Mr Jenkins didn’t invite her onto his lap and she wondered if he was worried about keeping control over his arousal. Finally on the morning of day five she was told she had earned the chance to wear her knickers again if she could demonstrate enough self control during the first lesson of the day.
“You’re a fast learner,” Mr Jenkins said as he observed his student sitting bolt upright in her chair, eager to begin. “I think you should be able to control yourself but we will see won’t we?”
He rang the bell and Miss Fisher was by his side a minute later. “You must submit to an examination first,” he said, loosening his jacket. “We will check you are ready to enter the world of adults again and I very much hope you will not disappoint us. Please stand.”
Amelia did so and waited nervously, having no idea what was about to happen. “Undress her please Miss Fisher,” Mr Jenkins said, leaning back against the top table.
“I have not been undressed before a gentleman before,” Amelia blurted out as he raised his eyebrows at her impertinence. “I do not think it would be proper.”
“It must be done,” he replied as Miss Fisher loosened her tie before moving to the buttons of her shirt, ignoring her muttered protest. As her breasts came into view, she flushed with a mixture of shame and excitement, watching Mr Jenkins face closely. He was clearly interested in her and yet he maintained the appearance of indifference. The slight shuffling of his feet suggested more than he said and as her skirt slid down she saw a bulge begin to appear in his trousers.
