Academy of Littles

by Allison West

  Leda ran past Philip, her fists pounding on the doors of the classrooms as she screamed at the top of her lungs. "He keeps us prisoner as littles for their enjoyment!" She darted from one door to the next, blatantly out of control, until she turned the handle and stepped into one of the classrooms, where the girls were carrying trays of tea and biscuits to a dining table situated in the center of the room.

  "We are not for your amusement!" Leda's voice echoed in the small space of the classroom.

  "That is enough!" his voice boomed, growing irritated with her display for attention.

  She skirted away from Philip, avoiding the girls with trays of food and drinks, but failed to see the teacher coming up behind her. The woman gripped the ruler in her hand and lifted Leda's skirt, smacking her bottom in front of the other pupils.

  Leda's eyes widened and she twisted away, trying to break free as Philip stalked into the room and lifted Leda, carrying her over his shoulder.

  "Put me down this instant!" She kicked and her arms flailed, trying to beat him as he walked toward the door.

  "Ladies!" The teacher clapped her hands, gathering the young girls' attention. "I apologize for the interruption, but it is back to work. Unless you would like to be the next girl with a ruler to her backside?"

  Philip forcefully carried Leda through the halls of the finishing school, back toward the door separating the two facets of the chateau. The moment he stepped into the littles' hall, he dropped her hard onto the floor.

  She winced, groaning, undoubtedly in pain. That would be nothing compared to the lashing she would get to her bottom.

  "Get up, now!" His words echoed through the long hall. He did not dare try and quiet himself.

  Nursery doors opened, including Etta's as she stuck her head out, her eyes heavy and filled with sleep. She must have been curious as to what all the fuss was about.

  "Go back to bed, girls," Philip said. He leaned down and pulled Leda to her feet, grabbing her by the arm as he swatted her bottom the entire walk back to his office.

  Both Nanny Mae and Nanny Vivian breathed a heavy sigh, most likely relieved to see the young woman returned.

  Philip shoved Leda into his office and slammed the door shut behind him. He wanted it known how angry he was at her for disobeying the rules. She had been at Ashby long enough to know that sneaking out was prohibited.

  "I do not want to be here anymore," Leda said, circling the chair, trying to keep away from the headmaster.

  "That is not your choice. You are betrothed to Francis, and he has paid handsomely for your attendance at this institution."

  "This place is unbelievable!" Leda shouted at Philip. "Requiring women to dress up as girls. It is insidious." She snarled at her headmaster, showing no signs of remorse for her behavior.

  "It is submission, child. You have proven time and time again that you fit right in as a child at Ashby. Perhaps you could learn from the other pupils, like little Gracie, who recognizes authority and submits to her papa. She will be leaving with him next summer, once she completes her committed time with us."

  "You cannot make me stay here." Leda headed for the window. From the second story, the windows may have opened, but there were no trees to grasp, no easy way down. Philip had considered every angle when he'd designed the chateau. The first floor housed the cooks, maids, and nannies' sleeping quarters.

  "Your guardian signed you over to our care, little Leda."

  "Stop calling me that! I am not little!" she shouted at him.

  "Perhaps I should bring in your papa. Explain to Francis about your recent behavior and outburst. We could let him determine your fate at Ashby."

  Leda shifted on her feet.

  "Or you could bare your behind and bend over with your bottom in the air, and accept your punishment like a good little."

  Philip was not letting her leave without some level of discipline. Her insubordination needed to be quashed. Whether he provided it, or Francis, she would learn her lesson for causing such an atrocious scene throughout the chateau.

  Without a word, Leda bared her little bottom and bent over, touching her ankles. Her dress fell forward, giving Philip a nice glimpse of her crimson backside. It seemed he was not the first one to discipline her this afternoon.

  He hated having to resort to the cane, but when girls such as Leda found it impossible to listen, he felt there was no other option. Opening his desk drawer, he removed the long thin stick. With a flick of his wrist, he swatted Leda's bottom, leaving a welt instantly on her bruised rear.

  She winced and jumped at the impact. What would teach the girl to behave? Did she need more positive attention from her Papa Francis? Perhaps Philip needed to sit down with the two of them and conduct a meeting to determine what the right course of action would be.

  His thoughts returned to Leda's sore backside as he caned her rear again, lower, over her bottom cheeks, near the tops of her legs.

  She yelped as the cane landed on her swollen buttocks.

  "How many more?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  "Until I decide we are done and you thank me for your punishment."

  "Thank you?" Leda let go of her ankles and moved to stand up and turn around, when the cane smacked across the tops of her buttocks and she swiftly dropped back to position. "I am sorry."

  Philip did not believe her words. He landed another blow to her arse, this one square in the middle of her cheeks. The welt formed as quickly as the cane made contact. "Do not clench," he said, trying to help. "You know it makes the sting last longer."

  Whining, she hung her head and started crying.

  He hated listening to the tears of the naughty girls, especially when he was not sure which ones were real, and which were an excuse to evade the remainder of their punishment. He would not let her trick him into getting any less swats than she deserved. A firm hand was needed to be a headmaster, and although he didn't always take joy in issuing discipline, it was part of his job, and one that he did not take lightly.

  "I am sorry!" she wailed, tears dripping down her face, along with snot.

  It was anything but pleasant. Philip gave her three more blows to her bottom before he guided her back up to stand.

  She reached down for her bloomers, pulling them back up. "I am sorry I was a naughty girl." Leda wiped the tears away.

  "And?" He waited for her to finish, tapping the cane against his palm.

  "Thank you for my punishment."

  "You're welcome, child." He pointed to a high-backed, wooden chair facing a corner. "Go sit in the corner on that chair, and think about what you did while I find your papa."

  Her eyes widened in fear. Was it sitting on her sore bottom that concerned her, or seeing Francis? Which was worse?

  He slipped from the office, locking her inside as he headed down the hall to find her papa.

  Chapter 11

  Etta found herself unable to fall back to sleep. After witnessing the display in the hall between Papa and Leda, her stomach was a flurry of butterflies.

  Did Papa discipline all the littles? She hated to feel the surge of jealousy that coursed through her tummy. She wanted him all to herself.

  Slipping out of the nursery, she wandered down the hall and paused as she watched Philip storm out of his office, heading the opposite direction.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. Curious as to what was going on, she crept toward his office until she could see through the frosted glass that someone was inside the room. It had to be Leda. Etta tried the door but it was locked.

  "Leda?" Etta hissed, giving a faint knock.

  "Who is there?" Leda asked.

  "It's me, Etta." She knew she would get into trouble if they were caught, but she wanted to hear what had happened from Leda. Would her papa tell her the truth?

  "Go away," Leda said, making no attempt to get up from her seat in the corner.

  Etta sat down, her back to the door. "I do not know what you did, but my papa is really mad at you."

  Le
da did not answer her.

  "I want you to stop being bad," Etta said. "My papa shouldn't be disciplining you. He should be paying attention to me."

  Leda laughed from the other side of the door. "You are jealous?"

  Yes. Etta did feel the strings of jealousy tugging at her insides, making her displeased.

  From down the hall, footsteps were fast approaching. She needed to head back to her room, or she could end up with her own bruised bottom.

  "It is a grave disappointment," Philip said as he came nearer.

  "Stop seeking attention!" Etta hissed at Leda, before rushing back into her room, shutting the door, and throwing herself under the covers in case anyone noticed. She pretended to be asleep. Etta shut her eyes and wished away all the bad things that happened in the world. Right now, her one main thought was of Leda. Why did she have to try and ruin Etta's happiness?

  The nursery door squeaked open.

  "Etta?" Nanny Mae's soft voice could be heard as she entered the room.

  "I am asleep," Etta mumbled, wanting to fall back to sleep. If it weren't for her papa waking her and Leda causing trouble, she probably would have still been asleep. She wanted to go back to dreamland, where everything was peaceful and she did not worry about disappointing anyone.

  "I know for a fact that is not true. I saw you in the hall just a few minutes ago."

  Etta had not seen Nanny Mae. Her eyes flashed open and she rolled over to face her nanny. "Am I in trouble?"

  "Well, that depends. What were you doing out in the hall on your own?" she asked.

  Lying seemed a bad idea, but could the truth save her? "Papa woke me when he was yelling at Leda." Perhaps that had been when Nanny Mae had seen her with the door open. Etta hoped she had not been caught sneaking down the hall to her papa's office.

  "I know, dear. Sometimes good littles do very naughty things. It is why they are here at Ashby, to help them remember that their papa is in charge, and they are to do as he says, always."

  Etta sat up in bed, pushing the covers off. Her room felt hot, or maybe it was the concern creeping up on her about being caught that had her flushed.

  "I need you to climb off the bed and pull your bloomers down."

  "What? Why?" Etta asked.

  "Your papa asked me to get you started on your training. No more questions." Nanny Mae waited for Etta to do as she was told.

  Etta climbed off the bed and slowly lowered her bloomers to the floor.

  "Good girl. Now lean forward toward the bed, with your bottom out in the air." Nanny Mae helped guide Etta into position. "Spread your legs further apart."

  "Nanny Mae?" Etta's voice caught in her throat, nervous after what she had been through with the doctor earlier. There were some things she had not liked about the exam and others she had found oddly satisfying. What did her nanny plan to do with her?

  The nanny grabbed a small black leather box and pulled from it a glass object, along with a jar of lubricant. "This will make you a little more comfortable, child." Nanny Mae poured a generous amount of wetness onto her fingers before she spread Etta's cheeks, sticking her finger into her pink pucker, just as the doctor had. "You need to relax." Nanny Mae lightly spanked Etta's pussy with her other hand.

  "What is that glass item?" Etta asked, enjoying the slight sting to her sex caused by the light pussy swats.

  Wetness seeped between her thighs, and her lips opened as she began to breathe more heavily, as her quim tingled. Her breasts felt fuller and weightier as Nanny Mae swiped her fingers over her folds, surely able to feel the heat radiating from her body.

  "It is a plug to stretch your arsehole for your papa," Mae said.

  "What?" Etta squeaked as she tried to hold back the moans of pleasure the spanking to her cunny caused.

  Just as she felt she may explode, the spanking stopped, and Nanny Mae coated the entire plug with the ointment before separating Etta's round rosy cheeks again. "Just relax. Imagine it is your papa claiming you, child," the woman said.

  Claiming her? Surely her papa would never put his… his member inside her there!

  Slowly, Nanny Mae inched the plug into her bottom.

  Etta panted, groaning as it stretched her tiny hole. Her quim pulsed from the insertion of the plug into her backside. She wanted Papa to cuddle her and feel his fingers enter her wetness again. "When will I see Papa again?" she asked.

  As the plug was pushed as far as it would go, Etta felt a sharp pain, and then a sense of relief once it had been seated snugly inside. Nanny Mae patted her bottom. "You can stand up now."

  Etta repositioned herself on the floor, dragging her legs closer together in slow methodical movements. She could still feel the plug in her behind, making her cunny ache even more. Her hips rocked and her fingers snaked down toward her clit, wanting to feel more than just a plug in her bottom. She craved a second release for that day.

  Nanny Mae did not appear pleased to see what her charge was doing. She smacked her hands away and pushed her back onto the mattress, pinning her down, hovering above her.

  Etta stared up at her nanny, her eyes as dark as night, the pupils looking huge. "You will not touch yourself again, is that clear?"

  Nanny Mae smacked Etta's quim.

  Etta moaned, finding it both satisfying and further arousing.

  Her nanny's eyes widened in surprise. "Did you just moan?"

  Etta nodded, she did not see the point in lying. Nanny Mae could see how excited her body was. Her breasts strained against the sailor outfit and her quim throbbed to be touched. Her sweet womanly odor poured from between her thighs, filling the room with the smell of sex.

  Nanny Mae slipped her fingers between Etta's legs. She leaned down until her lips were covering Etta's ear. "If you tell anyone, especially your papa about this, you will never be able to sit on your bottom again."

  Etta silently swore her promise. She gave a nod, all she could do to satisfy herself.

  Nanny Mae stroked Etta's sex, her fingers rubbing hard and with long strokes, pinching and pulling at her labia as her thumb circled her clit.

  Etta's lips parted and she threw her head back, her eyes slamming shut as the second orgasm began to rip through her body. She lifted her hips, grinding against Nanny Mae's hands, desiring and craving more, but that was all that could be offered.

  "Please," Etta begged, needing the aching throb to dull or fearing she might otherwise find herself with a knife-like pain through the heart. She leaned up, finding Nanny Mae's mouth, and placing her own over the woman's soft perfect cherry lips. The woman tasted exactly the way she smelled, of vanilla and spice. Etta's tongue pushed past Nanny Mae's lips as she shuddered in her nanny's arms.

  Collapsing against the mattress, Etta's heart felt as though it might explode.

  Nanny Mae climbed off the young woman's body, smoothed down her dress, and picked up Etta's bloomers from the floor. "Put these back on, along with your stockings and shoes. It is time to visit the playroom with the other littles."

  Etta did not want to go anywhere except back to bed. It took every ounce of strength to finish dressing.

  Nanny Mae waited by the door, avoiding Etta's stare.

  Once Etta was dressed, Nanny Mae took her by the hand and led her down the hall. Would her papa know what they had done? She did not want to get her nanny fired from Ashby. Etta found that she liked it—and Nanny Mae—very much.

  She scampered into the playroom, grateful to be among other littles and away from the nannies and papas for a while.

  Chapter 12

  It took Philip hours to settle down after Leda had put his heart into a state of fury. Reddening her bottom had been beneficial to both of them, but it had not eradicated the problem entirely. He would have Nanny Vivian keep a closer eye on Leda, and if she could not handle it, Vivian would be out of a job.

  He needed to calm down, and the best place to do that was to keep an eye on the nursery, watching his new little one playing amongst the others. From behind the glass, he stu
died her features. Etta's cheeks were flushed, far rosier than he had ever seen them before.

  Frowning, he headed in through the door and knelt down to her level as she sat on the floor. "Are you feeling all right, Etta?" The back of his hand shot out, feeling over her forehead. She felt warm to the touch, which explained her complexion. Undoubtedly, she was running a fever. During her exam earlier, her temperature had been slightly elevated, and he intended to check it again tomorrow. He kissed the top of her head before retreating to get a thermometer. Perhaps it was time to take her temperature again and make sure it was not as high as he thought.

  Philip returned after a few minutes, the glass tube in his hand. "Etta, I am going to need to take your temperature."

  "Here?" she squeaked with wide eyes as she glanced at the other littles.

  Yes, he knew it would probably embarrass her, but she needed to learn to submit to him, and feeling humility would help that process. What better way than to have her cheeks spread and her temperature taken for all to see?

  Philip took a seat on one of the wooden chairs that the nannies often used while the children were playing. "Come here," he said. His voice was stern and his tone showed no hint of humor as her feet remained planted firmly on the playroom floor. "If I have to get up, your bottom will not only see a thermometer."

  Etta swallowed nervously and inched closer, as slow as treacle. When she was within reach, he held out his arm, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her unceremoniously toward him. "Bend over," he said, offering his legs as support for her stomach.

  With slow abandon, she lay face down across his legs, her head pointing toward the floor. The warmth only seemed to further radiate from her body as he pushed her bloomers down to her knees. Surprised to find a plug already in her bottom, he did his best to hide the smile on his face and the swell growing in his trousers.

  "I see you have begun training with Nanny Mae." He spread her cheeks and slowly guided the plug out of her. That could not be the cause of her fever? No. Philip felt confident that something else was going on. Perhaps she had a touch of something she had picked up at her uncle's place. It had been covered in a sheen of dust and the weather had been damp.