The Reformer

by Breanna Hayse

  The villagers were delighted with the odd girl and her strange accent, helping her with her English as they introduced her around. Aryanna lost track of time as she immersed herself in the simple pleasure of exploring the town. She was sitting on a porch, sipping tea with the wife of the local butcher when the sound of pounding hooves reached their ears. Both women looked up as Ryan tore towards them, rage painted across his face.

  Aryanna paled. She glanced at the woman next to her whose face held a similar color.

  “Your Lordship,” the other woman stood gracefully, “it’s a pleasure to see you. Would you care for some tea?”

  “No, thank you, mistress. I am here to collect my ward.” He glared at Aryanna angrily.

  “What a sweet child she is. You have done a remarkable job in her reform. She is very polite, pleasant, and is working very diligently to learn our language to please you.”

  “You have no need to defend her, madam. She failed to follow my instructions and wandered from the house unchaperoned. Apparently, she does not share my concern for her safety.”

  “She might not have understood your orders, sir…”

  “Aryanna? Why did you leave the house?”

  “I no like reading book. Outside is nice. I walk.” Aryanna answered quietly, facing the ground.

  “Did you have my permission to leave?”

  “No, Lord Ryan.”

  “I think this will put some ease in your new lady-friend’s mind about your ability to understand. Madam, if you will please excuse us, I must take her home now.”

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Aryanna. Please come and visit me again.”

  “I would like much. Lord Ryan? May I visit?”

  “Yes, but not anytime soon. You must learn how to follow rules. Up you go, young lady,” Ryan said firmly, hoisting her upon the back of his horse and not caring that her long, slender legs were clearly visible to all. He tipped his hat and climbed up behind her, steering the animal back towards his home. Aryanna closed her eyes as the cold wind brushed her face and pressed her back against Ryan’s chest as he galloped down the dusty road. She could feel his tension in his arm as he held her tightly, knowing that she had upset him greatly. He lifted her off and handed the mare to the stable boy, then turned to escort her inside.

  “Lord Ryan? I am sorry,” Aryanna said ever-so-softly as he closed the door behind them.

  He looked at her sadly. “I am too, Aryanna. Go up to your room and wait for me, please.”

  Aryanna wrinkled her brow and turned to obey. The pain on his face confused her. He should be angry, not dejected… She had frightened him and had disobeyed. She sat on the straight-backed chair, smoothing the wrinkles in her dress as she waited his arrival. Several minutes later, Ryan arrived, sans overcoat. His chin was set, and a frown creased his brow. He pulled out a second chair to sit in front of her.

  “I’m very disappointed in you, Aryanna. Very disappointed,” he said quietly, watching her reaction.

  She glanced at the ground, tears welling in her eyes. “I am sorry, Ryan. Please, no be angry.”

  “I’m not as angry as I am hurt that you didn’t think it was important enough to obey my wishes. I’ve allowed you much freedom as you healed and became comfortable in your new home. It seems that I’ve given you too much, and it’s time to set some rules and enforce consequences.”

  “You send me back to Headmistress?” Aryanna asked fearfully.

  “No, dove. Sadly, you have earned yourself a spanking. And I intend to have you remember it.”

  “No… Lord Ryan is good reformer!” Aryanna looked frightened, the abusive events coming to her mind. “Please, no spank.”

  “Yes, I will spank you. I will not harm you, but you will be disciplined. Ary? Do you trust me?” he asked softly, watching as her eyes darted to seek an escape from the room. She hesitated before nodding, her eyes widening as he held out his large hand for her to take. Trembling, she inserted her slender fingers into his palm, biting her lip as he squeezed them gently. “Tell me what you did wrong today and why.”

  “I no like read English. Too hard. I took walk and saw place with houses…”

  “That's the village.”

  “Yes, village. People nice there, talk to me and show me things.”

  “Why do you think I'm upset with you?”

  “You said read. I not read. You lost me. I wrote note!”

  “My darling, I don't read Russian. You know that. What did your note say?”

  Aryanna looked into his eyes, her remorse growing. “It say, I go out.”

  “Nothing more? Where you were going? When you would be back? Hmm, so even if I could read your note, it told me nothing, correct?”

  “I am sorry, Lord Ryan.” Aryanna began to cry again. He held her in his arms closely, stroking her back. He did not have to talk. His actions worked to send her into a blubbering mess of sobs as guilt overtook her. Without asking, she positioned herself across his lap and pulled up her skirts to expose her split bloomers. Ryan hid a smile, parting the material and viewing her beautifully shaped, plump globes. He was pleased to see that she was filling out a bit.

  There were no more words to be shared. Ryan sighed and raised his hand, taking a breath before he lowered it with a sharp whack to the chubbiest portion of Aryanna's exposed backside. She stifled a yelp as she gripped his trouser leg, clenching her teeth to the searing smack. A second landed in the same spot, and Aryanna grappled with her instinct to struggle. She deserved this punishment. She knew she had done wrong and, more so, had hurt her reformer. He was a kind, loving man and did not deserve her disrespect. She shoved her fist into her mouth as Ryan's hand picked up the pace and the impact of his slaps intensified. She did not see the expression on his face as her bottom began to redden and blotch, or as the pudgy mounds jiggled enticingly under the weight of his hand. His anger had turned to fascination, and his fascination turned to desire. He knew now, as he spanked the young woman and held her under his control, that he would never willingly give her up. She was his.

  Aryanna, no longer able to maintain herself, released a loud wail speckled with distorted words promising to mind him and follow his rules. She began to beg for mercy, her longs legs kicking frantically to try to avoid the biting blows to her back end. Ryan grinned as her pink privates neatly showed themselves, and he ached to touch her. No, he reminded himself, this is neither the time nor the place. I will not take advantage of a woman under my hand!

  The spanking continued with Ryan focusing on the upper parts of her thighs, turning them into a lush rose red. Aryanna muffled her sobs in her hands and her kicking lessened as she exhausted herself from her efforts. With a hearty final smack to the crown of her cheeks, Ryan completed the hard lesson. He rested his hand on the small of her back, rubbing softly as she continued to cry helplessly. When her tears subsided, he lifted her to stand before him, smoothing down her skirts and taking her hands in his.

  “Please do not disobey me again, dove. Next time, I will be forced to use a strap. You already know how uncomfortable that is on your little bum.”

  “Lord Ryan, please… no hate me. No send me away,” Aryanna begged, launching herself into his arms and climbing upon his lap. Ryan held her against him, his lips resting on the side of her wet face. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent and enjoying her softness.

  “You know I don't hate you, silly girl. Nor will I send you away. Ever. I promise,” Ryan assured her. “Now go wash your face and meet me in the study. You have lessons to finish.”

  With a loud sigh, Aryanna nodded, standing. On an impulse, she reached forwards and kissed boldly, pressing her lips against his and opening her mouth slightly to allow access to his tongue. Ryan was unable to resist her sweetness and devoured her mouth hungrily. He had been with women before, especially when he had gone over to America, and had learned many different ways to pleasure them. They had all said that his mouth was his gift, and by the way Aryanna groaned as he kissed her, he believ
ed it to be true. She melted in his embrace and felt like she had become part of him. His cock rose solidly, wanting her closer. He gently pulled away and touched her crushed mouth with a finger.

  “No more distractions. Let's get to work,” he said, clearing his throat. Aryanna blushed, pulling away in embarrassment over her unladylike behavior. She did not see the ‘interest’ that bulged from his pants or that his own breath had quickened with want. She scurried to the basin, partly to cool off her heated face and partly to hide her shame. She had thrown herself at him like a wanton woman! But he had kissed her back. Aryanna groaned, realizing her dilemma. She was falling in love with this handsome, stern man and desired nothing more than to make him love her back. How? She would learn! That was important to him. She lifted her chin and looked at her reddened eyes in the mirror. Yes, she would show him that she was everything he wanted her to be.

  Ryan rubbed his temples, waiting for Aryanna to return. He had broken the golden rule of reforming. Don't fall in love. And he had fallen. Hard.

  * * *

  Eliza smoothed her dress nervously as she waited for the arrival of The Lord and Lady Remington. Martha had warned her that the lady was as skilled with a wooden spoon as she and advised the young women to watch her manners and her tone of voice. The Lady had no patience for petulance, either, so Eliza was advised to remain pleasant and cooperative. Eliza's eyes widened when she discovered Brigit was ever stricter than the earl!

  “Sit straight, girl, and do not even think about sassing back again,” Brigit ordered as the three sat for their evening meal. Eliza had already tried to argue that she preferred to eat apart from the Remingtons since she was being treated as a child still in the nursery. Brigit would hear none of her reasons or excuses to avoid their presence.

  “I told you that as long as you are in our home, you will be treated as a member of this family. My own son sat at the table with us for all our meals, and that is the way it shall be done.”

  “Madam, propriety…”

  “Eliza, you heard what Mama said. Not another sound. Now eat,” Gerard scolded. Eliza lowered her face to stare at her plate. She hated how they treated her. It was so demeaning and vulgar! She flushed, realizing that Aryanna, the young Russian girl who she had sent away, was probably receiving the same type of care. Well, at least that saucy brat didn’t have to deal with the likes of Lady Brigit! Martha was many years her senior and the earl was an older man, so it was proper to submit to his authority. But the Lady Remington… Eliza disliked the pretty woman immensely. She had never felt so intimidated by someone before.

  “Respond to Papa, Eliza, or I will be forced to be stern with you,” Brigit ordered, her green eyes firmly planted as she stared at the young woman before her.

  “Yes, Papa. I apologize,” Eliza muttered.

  “Martha? Tell me, has this child been sulky like this all day?”

  “No, ma'am. We had some difficulties this morning, but her behavior improved immensely after we had a good long talk.”

  Brigit frowned, eyeing Gerard knowingly. “Tomorrow we will deal with this attitude. I am too tired from our trip and want to spend some time with my husband. Eliza? Help Martha with the dishes and then go to bed.”

  “Dishes? But…” she noticed Gerard's dark look and gulped. “Yes, Lady Remington.”

  Gerard nodded with approval and stood, offering his hand to his wife. “Come my dear, let's go talk. Sleep well, child,” he leaned over to kiss Eliza on the forehead. Brigit did the same, holding the younger woman's face in her hand.

  “You really are a beautiful girl, but we need to remove this sourness. We'll spend some time together tomorrow. Maybe a good night's sleep will help you not be so surly, yes?”

  “I'm not surly…” Eliza grumbled under her breath.

  Brigit raised her brow, somewhat amused but the woman’s stubbornness. She was so much like the way Brigit has been when she first began her training! “After tomorrow, you certainly won't be. Good night, Martha. Thank you for a wonderful meal.”

  “My pleasure, missus. You, clear the table,” Martha ordered. Eliza slowly rose, her face scrunched in a frown. Martha snatched her arm, turning Eliza to face her. “What bee got caught in your bonnet, missy?”

  “I don't know. I don't like her. She's bossy! And I will not call her mama! She can’t be more than ten years my senior!”

  “Do you need another spooning to teach you manners, girl? Lady Brigit is a reformer, just as her husband and son. Don't look so surprised. You know that she was one of the first to be taken through this training and knows better than any of them what is required.”

  “I don't care. I don't like her.” Eliza stomped her foot.

  “Your pouting is very unbecoming, young lady. I'll wash, you dry,” Martha ordered, hiding a smile. The woman was finally starting to regress and exhibit childlike behaviors. Good, once that happened, then she could be molded.

  Eliza grumbled some more as she helped the old woman with her chores, finding that the task were not difficult or distasteful. She also found herself to be exhausted, yawning uncontrollably as they completed the job at hand. She barely remembered Martha changing her for bed or tucking her into the bed with a bottle of cool water. With a contented smile, she drifted into a deep sleep, finding solace in the protective confines of her bassinet.

  * * *

  Gerard chuckled as he slowly unbuttoned Brigit's dress, caressing her silky shoulders as it rustled to the floor. “I missed having you in my bed, my dear. Your skin is so soft and tastes so sweet,” he murmured, bringing his lips to the back of her neck. Brigit shuddered with anticipation and turned towards him, still dressed in several layers of undergarments. One by one, like unwrapping a gift, he peeled them from her until she stood naked before him. He released her long, red hair from its pins and draped it over her pale flesh, smoothing it over her delectable breasts. The years had matured her, making her figure more womanly and desirable. Despite having given birth, she still maintained a firm, flat abdomen, and her full breasts and pebbled nipples continued to look up to greet his eager mouth.

  “How much have you missed me?” Brigit teased, pulling away from his caress impishly.

  Gerard's eyes twinkled, “Enough to know I will have you and will not allow you to resist me.”

  “And what if I should resist you? What if,” she purred, increasing their distance, “I wish to go to sleep and not be touched?”

  “Your body belongs to me, wife, and I shall have it as I please,” Gerard announced, familiar with her 'cat and mouse' game. It meant she was in a rowdy mood and wanted things to be a little courser than usual. He was more than happy to oblige.

  “My body is my own, Lord Remington. And I have decided that you are not to seek pleasure in it this evening,” Brigit commented, strolling towards her bureau and pulling out a nightdress. Gerard yanked it from her hands, tossing it out of reach before grabbing her wrists. He pressed her against the piece of furniture, holding her arms roughly above her head and looking down into her grinning face.

  “This body is mine!” he growled, unhitching his trousers with his free hand. “And I will take it as I please.”

  “I think not, sir,” Brigit cooed back, already feeling her body moistening with excitement. “I have not given say that you may have me. Sir! What are you doing to me?” She yelped as he dragged her bodily to the bed, pushing her over the side with her bottom in the air.

  “I am claiming what is mine, woman,” Gerard stated, sending a harsh smack across the smooth, white peaks of her bottom. Brigit groaned in pleasure, making him repeat the gesture several times in continuum. Her bottom began to sting, and she wiggled it desperately, begging for more, while offering false protects and halfhearted attempts to disengage herself from his solid hold.

  “You must stop this, I… OH!” Brigit exclaimed as she felt his pulsing organ suddenly plunge into her from behind. Gerard held her hips firmly in both hands, rocking his cock into the deepest recess of her womanho
od. Brigit cried out in both pain and pleasure as he took her from behind, her senses heightening as his pelvis ground against her stinging backside. Harder and harder he lunged, his eyes shut with feral pleasure. Brigit clutched the bedclothes, her legs spread wide for his encounter, and whimpered in delight as he exploded his hot seed through the depths of her body. She reached between her legs and touched her swollen clit, clutching his manhood with her inner muscle as she quickly brought herself to orgasm. Gerard moaned as she tightened her grip around his spent manhood and spasmed around the sensitive head of his buried cock.

  He collapsed over her back as they both caught their breath. Brigit slowly turned her body under him after he slid from her and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “You’re still dressed, Gerard. You devil,” Brigit whispered huskily, nipping his neck with her tiny, white teeth. He groaned, feeling himself beginning to grow once again.

  “I need to be twenty years younger to keep up with your needs, my darling.”

  “Hmm, maybe if I remove these restrictions from you, you will have more energy to play?” Brigit asked roguishly, hurriedly removing his clothes until he stood, naked and majestic before her. She sighed, running her hands over his body. Hard work kept him fit, as did not indulging in excess liquor or smoking. He had even adopted the healthy eating habits of the far east, with many vegetables, lean meat and fish, and very little lard. He was even more handsome now than the day they met, and her desire for him never ceased.

  “What are you doing?” Gerard asked, hands on his hips and very amused as his wife studied his body with eagerness.

  She looked up at him, her eyes glittering like emerald pools. “I was just thinking how nice it would be to ride you as one would a horse.”

  “Would it now? Perhaps I should gather a bridle and a crop to assist you in this curiosity,” Gerard questioned, his manhood lifting as he became more aroused. Brigit nodded and watched as he removed a long jute rope from his chest of drawers. “Stand up. I learned this when I was visiting King Edward. It’s called Kinbaku.”