by River Belle
I felt my pussy beat hard against the plastic, and felt potent lustful energy build in me. Just as I had started to enjoy the feeling of the pain, Albert’s hand came down hard again on me. This time, he hit even harder, and I winced as the discomfort took hold. I gasped as he smacked me again, and again, bringing his hand down open on each cheek, one after the other. As he stung me with his hard hand, the sensation of sweet pleasure built again in me, the feeling of deserving to be told off, the feeling of being looked after, in a perverse way. This was for my own good, and I knew it. Finally, after many slaps, my bottom burned with pain, and Albert was done.
‘Oh baby, I hope that didn’t hurt too much,’ he said. He moved his hand over my cheek, stroking me tenderly. He turned me over onto the mat. Now my quim was fully engorged, and was totally covered in thick, silken fluid.
‘Mmmm,’ he groaned, ‘looks like baby enjoyed herself.’
Chapter 20
I lay on my back, my bottom still lightly stinging, as Albert moved away to a cabinet at the side of the room. I watched his perfect, muscular behind as he walked, noticing how beautifully his flesh rolled as he took each step. I carefully moved my hand up to my pussy, and lightly stroked the tight skin of my sex, sending darts of pleasure straight to the centre of my brain. I watched as Albert bent over, and removed something from the cabinet, then, before I had time to move my hand away, he’d turned back, and was staring at me with my hand on my pussy, guiltily staring back.
‘Baby!’ he said, sternly, ‘don’t start this again.’ He moved closer to me and I saw that he was holding a large, damp towel and a bottle of talcum powder in his hands. He put the items down, and took hold of my wrist, pulling my hand away from my hungry slit. The thrill of how close his hand came to my entrance sent a pulse of sweet anticipation through me. I wondered how much more of this teasing I could take.
‘Babies should not touch themselves!’ he said, his eyes burning. I’m sure that I saw lust in his face though this time, certain that I could see the way he was looking at my body. He came right up to me, and put his face against mine, his lips right next to my ear. He whispered.
‘I know that you were rubbing your quim and touching your nub while you were thinking about me when I caught you in that room. You were thinking of fucking papa, weren’t you, baby? You were thinking of getting that nice pussy all wet and hot and forcing papa’s dick into you, weren’t you?’ He was breathing heavily now, and I could feel the heat of his mouth against my face. ‘Or maybe you were thinking about letting papa fuck you in the bottom? Getting his cock all tight and wedged inside baby’s sphincter then making him spray his seed inside you, filling you up with his fat?’ I felt his hand gently caressing my inner thigh, slowly moving closer to my pussy. I willed him to move faster, to take hold of me, to do anything to relieve the incredible pressure that was now inside me.
‘Well, that’s not going to happen, baby, not when you’ve been so naughty, making a mess in your bed and all over the floor. Maybe when you’ve learnt to control your bladder, when paaa is happy that you’re not going to start peeing while you’re fucking me.’
I felt a different sensation now, and I knew that he was wiping my dirty legs with the towel.
‘It’s for your own good,’ he said, before planting a kiss on my my forehead. He continued to wipe my thigh, before using another cloth to clean my other leg. I was trembling at the feeling of the fresh fabric against my legs, and then, with care, he took hold of my pussy and started to wipe it with the cool damp towel. It felt so good to finally have some relief, and I felt pleasure take hold of my body.
Involuntarily, I started to grind my bottom down into the waxed sheet and started to rubbing my pussy into the towel, into his hand as he gripped me. I needed to be touched, I was desperate for it, and I was going to try everything I could.
Just as I started to feel the tension of an orgasm building in me, Albert pulled his hand away. ‘You’re clean enough now baby, time to get you in your nappy and ready for the day. My frustration was incredible, and for some reason, I felt it difficult not to screw up my face and start to cry. I knew it was what a baby would do, and probably what my new papa wanted, but I just couldn’t let go.
Albert was taking the bottle of talc, and started to liberally dust my groin with it. The powder felt wonderful, so cooling and with an amazingly light touch. I felt my body almost saying thank you for having this wonderful dust put onto it, and I squirmed in pleasure as I felt microscopic drops of the mineral soothing and cleansing my skin.
‘That’s nice, isn’t it?’ said Albert, smiling warmly at me. ‘You’re being very good, baby. I’m very proud of you. You must remember, that this is all for your own good.’ And with that, Albert walked toward the cabinet. When he returned this time, he was holding the same large nappy from earlier. This time though, I was desperate for him to put it on.
Chapter 21
Albert took hold of the massive, crinkly, floppy piece of towelling material and held it against my naked body. It felt wonderful. The sensation of it against my soft pussy sent shivers up and down my spine. There was a small mirror on the wall opposite me, and I looked at myself with the nappy. It looked weirdly, right, like this was how it was meant to be.
Albert positioned the nappy over my groin and cooed gently. It was so thick! I suppose it had to be to hold all of the pee that an adult would produce. Holding the nappy, Albert carefully knelt down on the carpet, before trapping the nappy underneath my butt. He pulled the two wings forward, and held them tight, before taking hold of the back tabs and bringing them forward over my body. The nappy was a good fit, and Albert pulled the tabs tight before peeling and affixing them in place with a large safety pin.
‘You look so pretty!’ Albert whispered, almost in awe. ‘Now, let’s see whether papa managed to get it on you right!’
Now, the moment of truth. The nappy felt snug enough, but maybe it would slip off somehow. I slowly rose to my feet and the nappy stayed exactly where it was meant to! It felt a little bulky on, and the extra material between my legs meant that as it was, I’d sort of have to waddle if I wanted to walk anywhere.
As I admired myself in the mirror, Albert stood behind me, looking as proud as I’d ever seen anyone looking. Was this the answer to my problems? I felt as though somehow, wearing a nappy during the day would mean that I’d gain control over my night-time problems. Maybe Albert looking after me was exactly what I needed. I waddled around the playroom, looking back over at papa, who smiled encouragingly. I felt my sex rubbing up against the soft, absorbent material of the nappy, and thought about how much had already happened in this summer holiday. I wondered what else might happen, and knew that if I played my cards right, it could be the most amazing summer of my life, and the most amazing gift my father had ever given me. I thought about going to the Pump Rooms with this nappy on under my stunning Italian dresses, of talking to Lords and Dukes without them having any idea just what I was wearing. Maybe I could even go in front of them, right there, in the ancient buildings of Bath.
‘Now baby, it’s time for you to go back to sleep,’ Albert moved over to the crib which stood in the middle of the room. ‘You have a big day tomorrow. You see, we’re starting a new diet,’ as he said that, he opened up a little cupboard in the corner, to reveal bottle upon bottle of thick-looking white liquid. ‘And I’m taking you into town, in your new nappy.’
An intoxicating mix of terror and lust filled my body. The nappy felt odd between my legs, but the snug feeling of security it gave me was incredible. As I lay down, Albert came over and started to stroke my head. As I felt the heady, deep feeling of sleep start to overcome me, I heard Albert start to sing, the sweetest lullaby I’d ever heard.
This was going to be a summer I’d never forget.
PART THREE
THE DUKE'S LITTLE DARLING
Chapter 22
‘Who’s there? Come out, you naughty thing. You’ve had your eyeful - now
it’s time for you to take your punishment!’
I stood completely still, not wanting to move an inch. I had known the moment I had seen what was happening in Duke Manning’s bedroom that if he caught me looking I’d be in serious trouble, but hearing his voice ring out in the night like that filled me with terror. I continued to peep through the keyhole, hoping against hope that the incredible man whose naked form I could now see plainly ahead of me would not be able to tell where the noise of my cough had come from.
My name is Rosie Silver, and for the last year, I had been a humble maid in the service of Duke Kingsley Manning. A hugely wealthy landowner, the Duke had a sizable estate, and was responsible for a staff of over twenty servants, who lived with him and his wife in their huge manor house in the idyllic Devon countryside. I was young - only eighteen in fact - and this was my first job of work, having been trained by Geoffrey Manton, the man who was now the head butler at the Manning estate.
When I’d first arrived, I’d been bowled over by the size and grandeur of everything. I had been used to living in abject squalor, and even my tiny little bed in amongst the junior servant’s quarters was utter luxury for me. The others groaned and grumbled about our lodgings, but I for one could not be happier to have a little corner of the world to call my own.
I’ll never forget meeting Duke Manning for the first time. He was there in the hallway on the day I’d arrived. Imagine that: a Duke, taking the time to meet a new, eighteen year old maid! I felt like the Queen of Sheba. Of course I’d never met a nobleman before, and seeing this strong, distinguished man greet me (as he did all of the new staff) had made me blush with embarrassment. I’ll never forget it for another reason too; it was the first time that I had truly felt desire for a man. Of course I’d had little fancies for some of the boys who were apprentices with me, but Manning was nothing like them. He was assured, he was refined, and he was mature. When he took my hand and kissed it, saying ‘Charmed, I’m sure. Rosie, is it?’ I felt an instant wetness between my young thighs. I must have blushed because he said, ‘Nothing to worry about my dear, welcome to your new home.’
I’d thought him so calm and so polite, so courteous and warm, nothing like I had expected. I had yet to see his stern side, of course. You see, Duke Manning, it turned out, could be quite the bruiser.
I’d settled into life at the hall reasonably well, and soon all of the chores of the various days blended into one blur of activity. I had been doing well, had barely broken anything or fallen over, or made any silly mistakes at all. It all changed on that day though. Everything changed on that day.
Chapter 23
It was around half past seven that Geoffrey, the head butler of the household, had called me into his chamber. He was extremely flustered, and started to talk to me quickly, without stopping for air.
‘Rosie, if you don’t mind, the Mannings are expecting visitors tomorrow morning on the shortest of notices, and the guest chamber needs preparing. It’s the Duke and Duchess of Dorcester: extremely demanding couple, extremely demanding. They’ll be arriving early, so we need to make sure that the room is absolutely spick and span, spick and span, do you understand? Of course I’d normally just ask Kimberley, but as you know she’s been stricken with that horrific Spanish influenza, and Margaret is busy preparing the geldings for tomorrow’s gala, and of course I would do it, but, but..’
I cut in.
‘Sir, don’t worry, I will be sure to do a very good job.’ I’d been hoping to be given a little more responsibility recently, and this was exactly the kind of thing I was after. Hopefully, I’d be trusted to dress the room appropriately, and wouldn’t have to spend quite as much of my time scrubbing bathrooms and peeling potatoes. I hurried along the long, stretching corridors towards the guest wing, a part of the house I didn’t often venture into.
When I neared the bedroom in question, I stopped for a moment. I thought I heard something, something which sounded a little like a human voice, low and rumbling and deep. Then, a moment later, I heard a cracking sound, and a dull whimper. For a crazy moment, I thought that it must be someone whipping a horse nearby, that someone must be riding a poor creature to within an inch of its life. But if that was the case, where were the sounds of the beast’s hooves, and why had it sounded as though the noise had come from inside the house? Then, a chilling thought struck me.
Could it be a ghost? Could there be a phantom, walking these corridors? No, there had to be a logical explanation, there was no way that I would allow myself to believe in the supernatural, in something as stupid and childish as ghosts! I was not a child after all, much as I still felt like one…
Then, I heard the noise again. It was clearly coming from up ahead, from a room past the guest room which I was meant to be preparing. A sudden surge of bravery swelled up in me; I was going to see exactly where this odd noise was coming from, and then I’d tell Geoffrey all about it. The preparation of the room would be quite lengthy, there were all sorts of dust sheets to remove, pillows to plump and, possibly sheets to iron. But all of that could wait for the time being.
I followed the sound down the corridor, further into the wing. There were no lit candles down here, so I carried my little three flame candelabra out in front of me like a mighty torch. Even though the light was dim, I could see that the décor round here was less opulent than in the rest of the house. In fact, it was positively drab, with wallpaper peeling and old paint flaking from poorly looked after surfaces. I tried to think of the last time I’d heard of anyone coming down this far. I couldn’t. Then, I realised, I was right at the end of the house. Ahead of me was a single door, at the very end of the corridor. The sound of the cracking and sighing was loud now, and it was obviously coming from the room ahead. Suddenly nervous, I leaned down and pressed my eye to the keyhole.
What I saw will stay with me ‘til my dying day.
Chapter 24
Flesh. Spread out vertically in front of me, stretched and strained bodies, pasted up on what looked like metal frames. I almost gasped with utter shock. They were female, these bodies, female and buxom, the likes of which I’d never seen before. There were two of them - both young, barely out of their teens - and strapped by many leather ties to the frames round the middle, round the ankles and round their wrists. They weren’t suspended quite straight, their legs were spread out so that I could see the parts between their legs and to my surprise I saw that both of the quims of the women I could see were positively dripping with moisture, as long strands of liquid oozed from them and dripped straight down to the ground.
The room was well lit; there must have been plenty of candles in there to provide such glowing illumination. The two women, one a brunette and one a redhead, writhed in their bonds.
‘Please,’ said the red head, ‘me next sir, please.’ Then, a man’s voice came from the left. It sounded stern and cold, more harsh than any voice I’d ever heard before.
‘Shut your trap, woman, you’ll speak only when spoken to, do you understand?’ The red headed woman nodded, silent now, and then looked down at the ground. Then, a figure emerged from the left. It was a man, as naked as the women. I saw him from behind and looked his body up and down. It was incredible to behold. He was muscular and tall, and there was something beautiful about his form, something elegant about the way he moved. That’s when I noticed that he was holding something. It looked a little like a riding crop, it was black and most certainly made from leather, I could almost feel it in my hand. The man played with the object, swishing it through the air a little, from side to side.
‘So, you snivelling wretch,’ he said, walking towards the red-headed woman, ‘you want me to do you next do you?’ He turned slightly to the right, and, although it was difficult to see because of the way the room was lit, I felt as though something long and hard suddenly jutted out from his stomach. Then he turned again and held the far end of the riding crop in his other hand. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘if that’s what you want.’
He brought the crop back and, with a cruel flick of his wrist, he slapped the flat leather into the inner thigh of the red headed woman. She screamed and then, as if trying to control herself, she was silent.
‘Good,’ he said, ‘you’re learning control so well.’ Then he hit her again. She moaned a high-pitched squeal, and she splayed her legs even further apart. She wanted this.
‘Please sir, your meat, push it in me,’ she started to say, but he whipped her flesh from side to side, leaving little red lines on the soft flesh of her thighs. Then he turned to look at the other woman. That’s when I realised - it was Duke Manning! Somehow I’d known it was him, but seeing him like this suddenly made me come over all funny. I pulled up my skirt and pulled down my undergarment and then, unable to resist, I pushed a finger up into myself. I pushed a second the next time he hit her. Then, every time he struck her, I fucked myself, feeling the raw sexual power of this room start to take over my good sense. Then, without meaning to, as my probing fingers explored the nub of tingling flesh at the top of my little cunny, I let out the tiniest, softest little moan.