by Golden Angel
The contrite expression on Edwin's face - or, as close to contrite as the expression on his face every became - subsided under a much sterner mien. "I apologized Nell, I know I hurt your feelings but I won't tolerate insults."
"Like the way you just insulted me?" she spat at him, not at all mollified. "Get out. If you think I could do that with another man... well... maybe I should! That would show you, you bloody bounder!"
With a growl, Edwin grabbed hold of her wrist again and yanked. Eleanor shrieked as she was pulled forward, and then yelled out in fury as she realized that he'd pulled her over his lap. Ignoring her screeching, Edwin ripped the gossamer gown from her body, leaving her gasping as he rent the fabric up the center and bared her. Not that it would have been any protection anyway.
Shifting himself so that his legs were off the bed and Eleanor was hanging over them, Edwin sighed. He did feel a bit guilty about what he'd suspected of his wife, not to mention the fact that he had insulted her, but that had been in all innocence whereas she was deliberately being as outrageous as possible. Not to mention the cursing. Her threat that she would go find another man to be intimate with had his blood boiling, even though deep down he knew she didn't really mean it. At least he hoped she didn’t.
But either way, such a threat was not to be tolerated.
"If this is what comes of allowing you to take the lead, you won't be allowed such a privilege again," he growled, landing a hard blow to the center of her bottom without any preamble or warm-up. Eleanor shrieked and kicked, forcing him to shift the position of his arm slightly to make sure she didn't slide right off his lap.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"I apologized. I explained."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"You didn't have to accept the apology if you were still angry, but continued insults will not be tolerated."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"And do not ever try to order me from our bed again. It will not work and you'll get this and worse."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Eleanor was howling now, her bottom turning a bright, roasted red as Edwin's voice calmly intoned over her furious yells. Tears dripped down her face and onto the floor as she wore herself out struggling, to no avail. Hanging limply over his lap, she wished she could shut her ears to his lectures about proper conduct and threats to lock her in their bedroom morning, noon and night if she even thought about intimacies with another man, all the while Edwin continued to pepper her burning bottom with further chastisement.
It was the longest spanking she'd ever endured, her legs kicking long after she'd thought her muscles had turned to water as occasional strokes landed sharply against the tender crease between her cheeks, her wrinkled bottom hole, or the plump swell of her pussy lips. That last elicited particularly pained cries from her, something that Edwin noted because the contact from his palm increased after that.
He spanked her entire bottom, from the upper curve down to her sit spot and then continued down to mid-thigh, with occasional hits in between on her tender quim. She was burnt up, seared, all over her bottom and in between. And yet she knew that every time his hand connected with the plump lips of her womanhood, he could feel the wetness that was trickling out there. Shame, which she never became accustomed to, welled up inside of her and just made her wetter.
Finally he pulled her back up and cuddled her on his lap, letting her weep onto his shoulder as he used the cravat she'd blindfolded him with to wipe her face clean. The press of his hard thighs against her bottom was painful, but the comfort and warmth of his arms was too much to resist.
"I'm sorry," she said, weeping more tears as he gentled her. "I was just so incensed that you would think... I didn't want to listen to your apology. I just wanted to hurt you."
"And you did, brat, but not because you called me names. I hurt because I hurt you."
It was the sweetest thing that he'd ever said, the most revealing of what might be his true feelings for her, and it nearly took Eleanor's breath away.
"Now then," Edwin continued, his hand wandering down to the hot red flesh of her poor bottom as he looked at her tear streaked cheeks. His cock was rock hard, pressing against her hip, although she hadn't been paying attention to it a moment before. The look in his dark eyes was intensely aroused and she realized that her punishment had had its usual effect on him. Indeed, it was a wonder he'd stayed his desires in order to comfort her. "It's been far too long since I've properly spanked you wife and I think I will mount you from behind so that I might best enjoy my handiwork."
Eleanor's face flamed. "Oh Edwin...."
"Oh Eleanor," he murmured back, stealing a kiss from her swollen lips as he caressed her breast with one hand, squeezing her bottom, and enjoying her small cry and wince, with the other. While he could not explain his obsession with a well punished bottom, the fact was, a woman's erotic pain incited the most incredible lust in him without fail. Even when he would have killed any other man that caused her the slightest hurt in any way.
When he placed her on the bed, the rounded cheeks of her bottom high in the air, Eleanor didn't protest. The cool air felt good against her hot cheeks and thighs, and especially across the swollen, wet flesh of her pussy. Fingers trailed over her sensitized skin and she shivered, knowing that Edwin was looking his fill at the aftereffects of her punishment. What she didn't understand was why it excited her so, both the discipline and his scrutiny.
With his wife bent over so submissively, so easily, Edwin couldn't help but reflect upon how far they'd come since the first days of their marriage. Back then she would still be fighting him at this juncture, and he doubted she would have accepted the cuddling, although he rather enjoyed it. Still, he appreciated her submissive posture even more.
Nell would always have a fiery spirit, but he wanted that. Perhaps, in some ways, she'd felt the need for a harsher spanking tonight.
Sliding his fingers up her sides, he fitted his body over hers, groaning with pleasure as her hot arse and thighs pressed against the front of his body, his cock nestling easily between those rounded cheeks as he squeezed her breasts. Beneath him, Eleanor gasped and bucked slightly as he pinched her nipples, whimpering with the need that he had built inside of her. His cock slid between her hot cheeks as her hips moved, making her squirm even more as her sensitive skin rasped against the rough hair of his body.
Pressing her face firmly into the sheets, Eleanor moaned, long and loud, as her fingers dug into the mattress beneath her. Curled over her knees as she was, with Edwin's weight on top of her, she couldn't move an inch even though she wanted to try and flatten herself on the bed. Edwin's fingers plucked and twisted her nipples as the pleasure and pain mingled in her center; his body felt like sandpaper against the flaming skin of her bottom and yet it did nothing to dwindle the flames that were heating her insides. With each tug of her nipples, she felt her need grow stronger, higher, and she bit her lip to keep from begging.
It didn't shame her when Edwin gave her a pleasurable spanking, but she could not understand her body's reaction to being disciplined by her husband. At the very least, she didn't want him to know exactly how aroused being punished by him made her - it's not as if the man needed any encouragement.
When she thought she might actually start begging if he didn't fill her emptiness soon, Edwin finally shifted, drawing his hips and body back. She sighed with relief and then pleasure as the cool air trickled back across her poor bottom and then the hard tip of Edwin's cock nudged against the entrance to her pussy. When he pushed into her, hard and fast, stretching her so quickly over his thick cock, she cried out. His body slapped against hers, stinging her red cheeks and thighs and she gasped and wriggled, her walls tightening instinctively around him as the pleasure and pain zinged through her.
"Damnation Nell... you're so tight and hot... hot all over," Edwin said, groaning appreciatively as he pulled back his hands and body, allowing him to lift her lower body further upwards. The sight of his cream coated cock s
lamming into her hot red quim, surrounded by the jiggling red flesh of her ass and thighs, was the stuff dreams were made of. Every inch of her had been spanked and he could hear Nell's panted breathing as she squirmed and adjusted to the hard fucking from behind, her pussy tightening with pleasure despite the sting.
With her legs pressed together, she was even tighter than usual, gripping his cock with her vaginal walls so that the friction was almost painful even for him. He could feel the heat emanating off her backside even when he pulled away before thrusting forward again. Fingers digging into her hips, he smoothly pulled her back onto his cock every time he thrust forward, increasing the force of his movements.
From the soft, muffled moans and the way her pussy convulsed around him, he knew she was enjoying it more than she'd ever admit.
But there was one more topic that he wanted to address while he was deep inside of her, claiming her, taking her in the way that only he had a right to.
"Nell..." he said, between thrusts as he grit his teeth to keep from spewing too soon, like an immature youth - but that was how much she aroused him, so it was difficult. "If you ever again threaten betray me with another man... I will do things to you that you can’t even imagine."
And as he said that, he popped his thumb in his mouth for just a moment and then lay his hand on her red bottom, the heat searing his palm as he placed his wetted digit against the crinkled hole of her anus and pressed. Although he'd never intended to use the dilators that Wesley had provided him with in their wedding gift, if using Eleanor in such a base and dark way was what would get her attention, then he wouldn't hesitate. And Edwin knew from his school days and the canings he'd received just how humiliating and painful certain items inserted into that orifice could be.
His cock hardened even further at Nell's outraged cry as his thumb burrowed deep into that forbidden hole; it was hot and tight and dry, clasping him to tightly that he thought it might cut off the blood flow to his thumb. Before he could remove it, Eleanor screamed her ecstasy and, as the velvet grip of her pussy rippled around him, he realized that the introduction of his thumb into her virgin anus had caused her to climax. Or had she climaxed despite it?
Either way, the sound of her culmination during such a lewd act, as he fucked her soundly from behind, was Edwin's undoing. Crying out her name, he thrust hard into her grasping cunt, allowing her body to milk him of every last spurt of his seed.
******
Later, Eleanor woke in the middle of the night with a pressing need to use the chamber pot. She'd fallen asleep almost immediately after Edwin had laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms and sleepily kissing her. When she returned to the bed, she whimpered as she rolled onto her stomach. Almost immediately, Edwin reached out and pulled her into his body, nestling her sore bottom against his groin in his sleep.
She wriggled for a moment and then settled, trapped by his arms even if she had wanted to get away. But she didn't.
Thinking over his reactions tonight, she felt more sure than ever that he must have feelings for her beyond mere affection. That she meant more to him than just being an extension of Hugh, more than a playmate that he thought he could rub along well enough with in marriage. And hadn't Lady Montgomery said that Edwin had been waiting for her to grow up? Perhaps she could trust her ladyship's perceptions, if she couldn't trust her own.
Maybe she could be content with this. Maybe she didn't need a verbal declaration.
Shoving aside the little pit of doubt in her stomach, the whispering worry that his attentions wouldn’t last forever, Eleanor clutched his arms closer to her body and fell back asleep.
Chapter 6
Steadily working through his correspondence, Wesley spent Thursday morning shut up in the study of his mother's house. The sounds of servants, his mother, and his ward were pushed away and put out of mind while he attended to his responsibilities. When Cynthia poked in her head to request permission to visit the nearby shops, he grunted an affirmative, not paying much attention and just wanting her away so that he could concentrate. The steward for his estates needed his time, his partner in shipping needed his time, as did his allies in Parliament who were writing to him about the latest bills.
So when he finally reached the short note that had arrived from Edwin that morning, warning him about the rogues that had been importuning Cynthia for intimacies that, while they wouldn't get her with child, would absolutely ruin her for any kind of respectful marriage - and that the impertinent chit had been brazen enough to suggest Eleanor pleasure Edwin with her mouth, Wesley was in no mood for it. He would have gone roaring through the house looking for his ward, and had been standing to do just that, when he remembered that she'd gone off to the shops. Sitting back down, he thought darkly about what he was going to do to her bottom when she and his mother returned.
How could his mother be so lax in her chaperonage? Or perhaps the problem wasn't that his mother was lax, perhaps it was just that she couldn't anticipate Cynthia. After all, she'd never had to watch over a young lady before, particularly as difficult a one as Cynthia was turning out to be.
On one hand, Wesley couldn't entirely blame the men of Bath. With the Season going on in London, Cynthia must be the most enticing young miss in the entire area. And she didn't at all dress or behave like a proper young lady. She was temptation incarnate, with those firm curves and that pouting mouth. Hell, what he wouldn't do to have her use his mouth on him.
Wesley groaned as he realized that thoughts of his ward had given him yet another impressive cockstand; an occurrence that happened far too often for his peace of mind. He absolutely needed to find a willing woman, perhaps tonight at the Assembly after he looked over the field of possible husbands for Cynthia. Strangely, he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of another man sampling her charms first... but it's not as if he was going to marry her, so if he wanted her then he would have to wait. While she certainly was a funny little thing and he enjoyed her intelligence and personality as much as her sensuality and attractive exterior, when he did finally marry it was going to be to a woman who enjoyed the same proclivities as he did.
Although... perhaps she did? The thought inserted itself into his mind as if it had been hovering there all along, just waiting for the right time to make an appearance. She certainly hadn't reacted to the spanking the way he'd expected. Just a bare hour later she'd behaved as if nothing had happened. Not at all what he'd anticipated.
A short rap on the door broke through his thoughts and he sat back up straight in his chair, scowling down at the bulge in his trousers before he looked back up.
"Come in."
"Actually, I was hoping you would come out," his mother said as she opened the door wide. "You've been shut up in here all morning."
"Ah. If I had realized you were back I would have come out already. Where's Cynthia? I need to speak with her."
His mother blinked at him. "She's at the shops, she said you gave her permission to go."
Now it was Wesley's turn to stare back at his mother, completely flummoxed. "I thought she meant to go with you."
"I wasn't feeling up to a trip out."
"Then who did she go with?" He could feel his temper rising and reminded himself that he shouldn't become angry with his mother; somehow he was quite sure that she didn't have half the idea of what Cynthia got up to. If she did, she would have probably had vapors on a daily basis.
"Her maid, of course."
Which would cover the bounds of propriety, but Wesley was absolutely certain that Cynthia would easily run right over any maid. His temper snapped.
"Dammit Mother, she's not allowed to leave the house unless accompanied by you or me or... or... Lord or Lady Hyde. Otherwise, the damned chit's confined!"
"Wesley!"
Ignoring his mother's outraged gasp at his language and intemperate tone, Wesley stalked right past her and out into the hall. He felt a bit bad about snapping at her, but really! After all the complaints that she'd sent him over
Cynthia's behavior and she didn't keep a closer eye on her? Intellectually he understood that propriety was met since she'd taken her maid, and that his mother wouldn't look beyond that - she would trust that the usual measures would suffice. But Cynthia wasn't a usual young women.
No, she was a brazen hoyden, a sensual temptation, and soon she was going to be a very sorry young woman with a very red bottom. And to make his temper even worse, his damn cock twitched again at the thought.
******
It hadn't taken very long for Cynthia to realize which shops the maids found interesting and which they didn't. She picked up some ribbons first thing, lingering there long enough over the colors that she was sure even the maid was losing interest, before moving on to search out a new bonnet, new gloves, and see the new fabrics at the modiste's. Only after that did she finally make her way to the bookstore, where there was a very convenient bench outside. By now they'd been about for several hours, and she knew the maid would have no interest in going into a bookstore.
Which was good because Cynthia didn't want her there.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Worthing," she said as she swanned into the shop after giving her maid permission to sit on the bench and enjoy watching the people who were passing on the street.
"Good afternoon, Miss Bryant," the shop owner said with a little leer. She gave him a dazzling smile in return. As a much older man with a portly belly, he didn't seem to need more than a smile or two and a flash of her ankles and calves on occasion to keep him satisfied. And in return, he let her have free run of his shop.
Cynthia wasn't interested in most books, it was true; she certainly wasn't a bluestocking. Romances interested her only so much, and only on rainy days when she couldn't go outside anyway. Anything that required her to sit for any length of time - other than playing the pianoforte - wasn't high on her list of enjoyable activities.
But Mr. Worthing had a collection of quite interesting books on a high shelf in the very back of his store. She didn't think he realized that she knew they were there, as she'd found them completely by accident and had hurriedly pretended to be engrossed in something else when she'd heard him approaching. Since then she'd come back on several occasions, hoping to get another glimpse at the interesting pictures that she'd barely seen. Maybe even read some of the passages. So far she hadn't been able to, as there were usually other people in the store, but she never lost hope.
