by Maggie Ryan
Rebecca found she couldn’t even look at the woman and kept her eyes down, tears welling, her humiliation consuming her entire being. A large towel was wrapped around her and she was dried almost as roughly as her bottom had been washed. Rebecca was led back into the larger room and placed on a small stool before the fireplace. She was grateful for the warmth.
Mrs. Andrews walked to a wardrobe and returned. Rebecca was almost dozing when she was pulled to her feet, her towel tugged away, and told to raise her arms. She obeyed, the fight seeming to have disappeared from her. She shivered in the very short, very thin garment and then blushed hotly when she realized it was the only item she was offered. Never before had she wanted her split drawers as much as she did at this very moment. However, she didn’t have the courage to ask for anything.
Mrs. Andrews was soon brushing her hair free of all the tangles. As Rebecca yelped when her hair was pulled, Mrs. Andrews said, “If you hadn’t been naughty you wouldn’t have been thrashing around while you got your heinie spanked and your hair wouldn’t be so tangled. Sit still while I brush your hair and think about your naughty behavior.”
Rebecca clenched her hands and didn’t make another sound, not wanting to give the woman the satisfaction.
Mrs. Andrews just smiled. She was used to little ones and Rebecca’s behavior was nothing new. She finally set the brush aside and stood. “Stay by the fire and let your hair finish drying Rebecca. I’ll be right back.”
Rebecca waited until the door closed before she jumped up. She raced into the washroom intending to grab her clothing and escape. She slid to a stop when she realized her clothing was gone. She looked in the cabinet but other than some sort of bag and, oh God, a bunch of paddles, it didn’t hold her clothing. She turned to look in the other room and ran smack dab into Mrs. Andrews. The woman didn’t look happy.
Rebecca stuttered and said, “I…I need to use the necessary.” Mrs. Andrews didn’t look convinced.
“Did you think the privy was in the cabinet Rebecca?”
Rebecca blushed, “Umm, no but I was…was looking for a chamber pot.” She was turned around and directed towards the wash stand and she saw the chamber pot beneath it. Rebecca discovered that she did need to use the bathroom after all. She turned, “Um, thank you Mrs. Andrews. I’ll be out in just a moment.”
The woman smiled and said, “Don’t be ridiculous. Little ones don’t use adult facilities. Little girls who need to potty use the little potty chair. We wouldn’t want you to fall in would we?”
Rebecca was shocked. She found she had nothing to say. She watched as another door was opened and saw a large chair with a chamber pot underneath. I looked almost like an outhouse would but instead of just a bench seat, this was an actual chair. The largest chair Rebecca had ever seen. She would have to climb up to even sit on the huge piece of furniture. This was the little chair? No! I could never! She blushed and said, “I don’t need… I’m... I’m fine, thank you.”
Mrs. Andrews looked down and said, “Lying is a very naughty thing missy. Either you lied about having to go potty or you are lying now. Either way, you will find your bottom spanked when you lie.”
Rebecca began to cry, the events of the day suddenly too much for her to handle. She ran out of the room and threw herself down onto the floor by the fire. She sobbed as if her heart would break. She didn’t even hear the door open.
Patrick looked at the small woman kicking her feet and having a tantrum in front of the fire. The short gown had hitched up and barely covered the curve of her bottom. The thin fabric did nothing to hide the redness of her bottom, the view enchanting to the man. He grinned over at Eleanor who grinned back.
They remained silent until Rebecca stopped kicking her feet and lay still but still crying softly. Suddenly realizing she was practically naked, Rebecca sat up to pull the discarded towel back around her. As she did, she heard, “Don’t bother Rebecca. You won’t be needing that for now. Little girls who throw such tantrums need to be punished though from the condition of your little bottom I can tell it won’t be your first spanking tonight.”
Rebecca was humiliated, in pain, exhausted and still desperately needed to go to the bathroom. She looked up at her new husband and shocked them all by running to him. She threw her arms around his waist and sobbed harder against his chest. Patrick reacted by simply picking her up. He motioned for the two older women to leave. Eleanor smiled and nodded as she and Mrs. Andrews left the two alone. Patrick walked to a nearby rocker and was soon rocking the small woman.
She sobbed for a long time against him and sounded as if her heart were breaking.
“Shhh, shhh, Becca. You are safe. You are just fine. Go ahead and cry, baby. I’ve got you, you are safe.”
His words didn’t truly register but the tone of his voice and the comfort of his arms did. No one had held her in such a very long time. Rebecca gradually calmed, the fight leaving her. She relaxed against him and he continued to rock her. Once he was sure she was calm enough to listen, he said, “Tell me what happened. Why did you get your little bottom spanked?”
She blushed and buried her head in his chest, her shame intense. Patrick gave her another moment but when she continued to be silent, he turned her up just a bit and gave her a swat to her thinly clad bottom.
Rebecca shrieked as if he was killing her.
“Answer me Rebecca or it will be more than my hand on your bottom.”
Rebecca felt his hand move and grabbed his wrist. “Noooo! Please….”
Patrick looked down at her tear stained face and the tiny hands clasping his wrist. His eyebrow rose and she gulped but quickly released him.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at his face, but told him about the awful bath and that Mrs. Andrews had spanked her when she had asked to wash herself.
Patrick chuckled and knew that must have been quite a scene and he was sorry he had missed it. Hearing him chuckle, Rebecca was ashamed and seemed to also realize she was practically naked on this man’s lap. She sat up and tried to get off his lap. He chuckled again and simply tightened his grip. “No little one. You are fine right where you are.”
She was humiliated and whimpered. “I need…need to use the bath…bathroom. Please let me go.”
“Do you mean you need to go potty?” Patrick asked, his voice low but his tone firm. He watched her face suffuse with color and her bottom lip being held by her tiny white teeth.
She squeezed her eyes shut but slowly nodded. Realizing he still hadn’t moved, she finally whispered, “Ye…yes sir.”
Wanting to make sure his new wife understood who exactly was in charge, Patrick responded harshly. “Yes what, Rebecca?”
She wished she could disappear. Being extraordinarily shy, she felt tears fill her eyes but also felt her bladder threatening to release. With a voice so small that it was almost inaudible, she managed to answer, “Yes, sir… I need to go… go po... potty.”
Patrick smiled and then stood and carried her into the bathroom. He saw the door open to the water closet and saw the blush on her face. He sat her down onto her feet but only long enough to pull up the lid over the chair seat. Rebecca saw a hole centered directly over the chamber pot below. Patrick lifted her, easily pulling the short gown to her waist, baring her bottom. He sat her down onto the chair, her little bottom almost falling through the large opening. She gasped but then had to grab the arms of the chair to steady herself and was amazed at the stretch that required. This was the largest chair she had ever seen, much less sat on.
Patrick chuckled. “Sweetie, spread your legs. Open them wide so Papa can make sure you are in the proper place.” Her face flamed and she hesitated. The hole was enormous and it was taking all her concentration to keep her bottom from falling through. Terrified at that thought, she very slowly opened her legs trying to achieve a sense of balance. “That’s good sweetie. Spread a bit wider please.”
She shut her eyes and whimpered in shame. She felt his hands on her legs as he pulled them fu
rther apart. She looked up at him imploring him with her eyes, tears leaking down her cheeks.
Patrick reached out and wiped them away with the pad of his finger.
She moaned, “Ple… please sir. Please…” He saw the intense shame on her face but had no desire to give in to her plea. He said nothing.
She saw he was watching her every movement and that he was enjoying her humiliation. She moved one hand to cover herself but he snatched it and placed it back where it had been.
“No little one. You will never touch yourself without permission. You aren’t allowed to cover any part of your body in front of me. Now, go potty because we have something else to attend to don’t we?”
She was confused but her bladder defied her and released. She had never gone to the bathroom in front of another soul since she was a small child. Patsy had thought it rather silly when she refused to use the chamber pot in their room unless Patsy left but Rebecca was far too modest. She finished, tears running down her face.
Patrick tore off a piece of tissue and reached down to wipe her. Her hand met his and it took another look at his eyes and a nod of warning before she released his hand and put it back on the arm of the chair. She felt him wipe her and also felt a bolt of something in her stomach. She felt him wipe her again, pressing his hand hard against her sex. She blushed and quivered, her heart racing. She didn’t see his grin through her tightly clenched eyes.
But Patrick saw her reaction and felt her body shudder. He dropped the tissue into the pot below but then returned his finger to her opening. She whimpered loudly as he pressed his finger gently through the lips of her sex. She was desperate but for what she wasn’t sure. He moved his finger slightly until it rested on the swollen nub hidden in its little hood and covered by the red hair of her mound. He delighted in her gasp as well as the pulse of her clit against his fingertip. He watched her face as he pressed just a little harder. Her teeth caught her bottom lip and a small moan escaped, her knuckles white with their grip on the arms of the potty chair. He grinned, patted her once more and then removed his hand. He picked her up off the chair and carried her to the adjoining room. She pressed her face against his chest, unknown feelings rolling through her. She didn’t protest as he sat again until he spoke.
“You were a very naughty girl for Mrs. Andrews. It was naughty making her spank you and then you threw a tantrum didn’t you, Rebecca?” She shuddered but had to nod. She felt his hand against her bottom and remembered his rule.
“I’m not…I’m not a little girl.”
He grinned knowing she was in complete denial of what he intended. “Yes, Becca, you are. Big girls do not throw temper tantrums and kick their feet. You did throw a tantrum didn’t you?”
She felt shame course through her as she remembered her fit in front of the fireplace. She was an honest person and finally stammered, “Y… yes. But... but—”
Patrick interrupted her.
“What sort of person throws tantrums, Rebecca,” he asked.
She blushed hotly. “Lit… little ones.”
Patrick patted her bottom gently. “That’s good honey. Little girls throw tantrums, little girls fight their nannies, little girls break the rules. Since you, my dear, have done all of those things, what does that make you, Becca?”
She shuddered, his firm but even tone somehow made her feel even guiltier. “Li... little?”
“Correct again. And Rebecca, what happens when little girls are naughty? What happens to their little bottoms?” He patted her own bottom again and she flushed.
“They… they get span… spanked.” She sobbed but answered so softly he could barely hear her.
“Good girl. I’m proud of you Rebecca. Naughty little girls need to learn to behave. Adults need to teach them that disobedience is not tolerated. You admit you were a naughty little girl and, as your Papa, I’m going to begin teaching you that you will be spanked any time you are disobedient.”
Rebecca sobbed, she was so confused, so exhausted and so ashamed. In her head she knew she should continue to argue, to demand he release her. However, her heart felt guilty and ashamed of her behavior. She had acted so inappropriately and had thrown the tantrum witnessed by her husband. She looked up to see him gazing intently at her, his blue eyes seeming soft and kind yet his intention remained clear as he patted her bottom. “Please… you... you are my husband. Why does everyone call you my Pa… Papa? Why… why do you want… want to spank me?” Rebecca’s voice broke at her question but she was so scared.
Patrick saw the confusion and fear in her eyes and reached out to stroke the tip of his finger down her cheek, following the path of the quiet tears that were falling before moving his hand to settle on the curve of her bottom. “Our marriage will not be as others. You are my wife and, yes, Rebecca, I am your legal husband. However, I have no desire for a traditional marriage and you will learn what it is that I expect from you. Right now, I expect you to answer my questions. Now, tell me why I’m going to spank this bottom, Becca.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes from his though her breath caught in her throat. His finger continued to stroke her bottom and her stomach was flipping wildly. He didn’t speak again but continued to capture her eyes. Rebecca didn’t even seem to realize she answered, “Be... because I was… was a naughty little girl.”
He smiled and bent forward to press his lips against her forehead. “Good girl.”
Before she could react to the feel of his lips on her skin, Patrick lifted her as if she weighed nothing and turned her over his knees. She didn’t fight him, there was no reason to. He was going to spank her, he was so much bigger, so much stronger and he was her husband. She had just admitted to having acted horribly and knew she deserved a spanking. He could spank her whenever he desired and she was learning quickly that she could do nothing to prevent him.
“That’s right, Becca. They get spanked and their little bottoms get red and swollen and very hot and hurtful. It would be good for you to learn this lesson well.”
She began to sob as he lifted her gown, baring her already bruising bottom. He then began to spank her and she was soon begging for him to stop even though part of her understood she had earned one in his mind. His hand was as hard as the paddle that Mrs. Andrews had used and this spanking on top of an already sore posterior was truly horrid.
Patrick spanked his new wife until her bottom was practically glowing and not a single spot remaining that hadn’t felt the full weight of his hand. His cock was rock hard under her stomach but he knew she wasn’t even aware of that fact. He loved watched her little bottom bounce and jiggle under his hand and found himself wondering how it would react under other implements. He had to clench his jaw to avoid moaning at the images in his mind. He had indeed found the perfect wife though she was to learn she was to be treated far more like a little girl. He listened to her sob and by the time he was done roasting her bottom as well as down the back of her slim thighs, she was promising to be a good girl over and over again not even aware she was speaking.
She lay heaving over his knees not aware that his hand had stopped the spanking. He drew a finger between her legs and up into her sex. She shuddered but didn’t resist. He found what he was looking for and smiled at the discovery. While it wouldn’t really affect his plan to train his new bride, the fact that she was soaking wet against his fingertips did offer additional scenarios. He tapped her little clit lightly causing her to finally shift a bit as if unsure what it was she wanted…to get away from this finger or to follow it with her body. Patrick grinned and removed his hand. He lifted her to stand before him. She tried to reach back but evidently remembered his earlier words. She lowered her arms to her sides though her hands wanted desperately to soothe her burning bottom.
Patrick bent close and said, “Keep your gown up and off your bottom, Becca. Whenever you’ve been spanked Rebecca, you will display your bottom, apologize for being naughty and thank me for the discipline.”
She obeyed without thinking, pul
ling her gown off her hot skin, the sight of her obedience causing Patrick to almost groan. He nodded and said, “Turn your bottom to me little one and make your apology.”
She blushed but didn’t protest as her husband turned her to face away from him. His eyes took in her punished bottom as she stammered, “I’m sorr… sorry I was naughty. Th… thank you for span… spanking me.”
Patrick felt his heart swell. “Very good, Becca, but you need to properly thank whoever it is that roasts your little bottom. Try again.” She repeated,
“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mr… Mr. McGavin. Thank you for spanking me.”
Patrick chuckled. “There is no need to be so formal Mrs. McGavin, after all, I am your husband. You will call me sir most of the time but when I have tended to your bottom or elsewhere, you will call me Papa. You also need to be specific about what area was spanked or paddled. One more try or I’ll have to turn you back over my knees, give you another spanking and then you may try again.”
Trembling and terrified of another spanking, she sobbed, “I’m sorry I was naughty Pa… Papa. Thank you for spanking my bot… bottom.”
“That’s my very good little girl.” He turned her back to face him and brushed his lips across hers in her first kiss.
She felt her heart leap inside her chest.
Meaning to take just the smallest taste, Patrick couldn’t help but kiss her again, his tongue tracing over the very luscious lips he had admired earlier. He bit back his own groan. He needed to get this little one home and in his bed and the quicker the better. He took her hands in his, allowing her gown to fall to cover her nakedness. He stood and Rebecca attempted to get control of her senses.
Her bottom burned, her heart pounded and her blood rushed through her body. Her stomach was tingling and some sort of ache throbbed between her legs where he had touched her. This time, her hand lifted to touch her lips, pressing on them as if she missed the pressure of his kiss. Rebecca wondered if being spanked bare bottomed over your husband’s knees was a common occurrence in households. Surely not? However, she knew only the barest facts about relations between a husband and wife. Not being allowed to have any suitors, neither of her parents thought it appropriate to discuss the matter. Neither had she been included in the whispered conversations of the other girls at the school. What she had overheard was embarrassing and confusing, so if husbandly discipline has been discussed, she had not been privy to it.