by Wild, Lucy
“Take them out,” he replied curtly. “I better get her back.” He did not add that his reasoning was that if he watched her moaning and grinding on the cylinders any longer he would have to take her there and then and to hell with decorum.
“No,” Laura begged. “Not yet.”
The doctor smiled. “I do not take orders from littles,” he said. “I take them from adults.”
She screamed with frustration as the cylinders were cranked back out of her. As the doctor untied her she looked as if she were awakening from a daydream, blinking slowly several times and looking down at her body before standing up and blushing deeply. She remained frozen in place as the doctor tied the nappy back in place between her hips and then she mutely followed Edward from the examination room.
Edward walked out of the surgery and gulped several times at the fresh air, attempting to dispel the urgent need he felt to ravish her that very moment. The entire walk back to his home, he insisted she walk behind him, unable to look at her for fear that lust would overrule the reasoning part of his mind and compel him to take her without caring who saw. He stopped when they reached the house and turned to face her. “I must ask you something,” he said.
“Yes papa,” she replied, staring placidly back at him.
“Will you give me your hand in marriage?” he asked, watching closely to see how she reacted. “I would very much like to become both your papa and your husband.
Chapter 13 - Laura
Laura was in a daze as she walked back into Westall’s house. She knew he had proposed, that she had said yes, and yet it was still like a dream to her. She had left the doctor’s with her body sore and her mind full of pent up emotion. Lust filled thoughts had taken over her whilst she was being examined, she knew that now. It was not her that had growled out, “More,” it was the sinful desires deep within her that had taken over.
She shuddered as she thought of the two cylinders deep inside her, a sensation she felt she would never forget for as long as she lived. She had felt in pain, stretched wide by their intrusion, yet also more alive than ever before. The feeling of fullness they had provided had brought something bubbling to the surface within her, something she had long kept buried, afraid of it, terrified by what it might mean. It might mean she was not a respectable woman. For what respectable woman would enjoy having both her holes filled at the same time?
It could only be the confused state of her mind that had led her to say no to Westall’s proposal. What other reason could there possibly be for such madness? He had asked, she had immediately said no, feeling her heart sink as she did so. But now, just a short time later, she was already regretting it. She was beginning to realise she needed a papa. Not only that but she had just been given the chance to spend her life with the perfect one for her. And she had turned him down.
As she walked into the hallway of Westall’s house, she stopped dead. Standing before her was the last person she wanted to see. It was her stepmother.”
“Lady Rothsfield,” Mr Westall said, walking towards the furious looking woman. “How good it is to see you again.”
She waved away his hand. “Do not attempt pleasantries with me you depraved pervert. I have come to retrieve my stepdaughter from this cesspit of sin.”
“I am afraid I do not understand.”
“She is stood there in a nappy, as naked as the day she was born, for all the world like some penny dreadful version of an infant and you do not understand me? You will burn in hell for this Mr Westall, mark my words.”
“I assure you madam, my techniques have the firmest possible basis in science. I could guide you to several periodicals which discuss in great detail…”
“Enough. I had my doubts when you were first touted as a solution to her problems. But to find out what goes on here, I am shocked sir. Laura, get dressed this instant. We are leaving.”
Laura took a step away from her. “But I do not want to leave.”
“What did you say?”
“I do not want to leave. I want to stay here with Mr Westall. He is a great man.” She was rewarded by a look of disgust on her stepmother’s face.
“A great man? What kind of man dresses grown women up in nappies? I saw one just now with a dummy in her mouth. It is disgusting.”
“Please, I beg you to reconsider.”
“I will not hear another word on this matter. We return home this instant, whether you are willing or not.”
Maria stormed past Mr Westall, grabbed Laura by the arm and began dragging her outside, ignoring her protests.
“Please, papa,” Laura called out. “Save me papa.”
“Papa?” Maria gasped. “Saints preserve us. She has gone insane.”
Laura could only look behind her as she was shoved into the waiting carriage. “Drive on!” Maria shouted before the door was even closed.
“No!” Laura cried out, reaching for the handle.
Maria grabbed hold of her, pulling her over her lap. “By the heavens, you will maintain some sense of decorum my girl.” She grabbed the nappy and roughly pulled it loose, tossing it aside whilst Laura squirmed to escape her lap. “Your father may dote on you but I see only a spoilt brat who needs more than fads and snake oil to set her on the straight and narrow. You need a bloody good thrashing.”
Laura could hardly believe what was happening. One minute she was beside her new papa, the next she was on the lap of this harridan whose hand was lifting into the air. How was she so strong as to hold her in place with one hand in the air like that?
Maria’s hand came slapping down onto Laura’s naked posterior, causing the poor girl to shriek in pain. “Stop it!” Laura cried. “You are hurting me.”
“Good. Perhaps you will begin to learn.”
Laura continued to shriek as Maria’s hand landed on her rear again and again. She did not stop until she was quite breathless and by then Laura could do little but slump to the opposite seat, wincing as her battered posterior pressed into the thin cushion beneath her, little protection from the hard wood underneath.
She began to weep as her stepmother sneered at her. “You are pathetic,” Maria said. “Do you know that? Cannot even take the spanking you deserve without whining like the brat you are.”
Laura glared back at her but said nothing. All she could think about was Mr Westall. Her papa would make it all okay, she knew that. But would he come for her after she turned down his proposal of marriage? Her body hurt but her mind was in agony. She felt that she was in the thrall of a thoroughly wicked woman, like the stepmother from the old fairy tales. Could she win out against such a villain? “I hate you,” she said as her tears finally stopped falling.
“I care not.”
“I will tell my father what you have done and he will want nothing more of you.”
“I doubt you will be telling anyone anything.”
Laura felt suddenly terrified. Something in the coldness of Maria’s tone of voice was far more threatening than the beating she had just doled out. “What do you mean?” she asked, afraid of what the answer might be.
“You will see soon enough. Now you will be silent and sit still like a respectable woman. I have a headache.”
Laura sat in silence, her fingers trembling with fear and cold, her flesh white as a draught blew through the edge of the carriage door seemingly headed straight for her. She had no idea how much time had passed since she last spoke but as the sun began to set, she grew increasingly afraid. They should have reached Rothsfield House by now. Where were they?”
Maria looked up and smiled, a cold smile that lacked any warmth. “This will do,” she called out and the carriage stopped.
“What is this place?” Laura asked, glancing out into nothing but darkness.
“The place I shall forever remember,” Maria said, opening the carriage door. “The place where I got rid of you for good.”
Laura gasped as a pair of rough hands reached in and grabbed her. She caught a glimpse of the carriage driver’s fac
e as he dragged her out and tossed her to the ground.
She fell into thick mud and as she rose to her knees, she saw the driver climbing back into place. “What are you doing?” she cried, already beginning to shiver.
“You freeze to death,” Maria called back as the carriage rolled away. “I gain your inheritance. Isn’t marriage a wonderful institution?”
The driver lashed at the horses and the carriage raced away leaving Laura alone in the darkness. “Come back!” she screamed but only the wind heard her, taking her words and whipping them away into the night.
She wrapped her hands around her body which was shaking uncontrollably. Her teeth began to chatter as she looked around her for any kind of landmark. She could see nothing beyond the road the carriage had raced away along. She attempted to follow its tracks but as she set off it began to rain and within minutes the wheelmarks had faded into the thick mud of the poor quality trackway. She stopped, her feet numb, her hands burning with cold. “What do I do now?” she asked out loud.
Chapter 14 - Edward
Edward rode as fast as he could. He had expected to catch up with the carriage containing Laura and Lady Rothsfield but he had not done so by the time he reached Rothsfield House. He cursed his stable boy for the time it had taken to prepare his horse. They must already be inside.
By the time he had set off, he was worried. It was not just the fact that someone had provided Lady Rothsfield with detailed information as to his teaching methods. That was a concern and something to be dealt with at the first opportunity. But far more importantly was the fact that Laura was being taken from him, perhaps never to return. He could not allow that.
All his life, he realised as he rode, he had wanted a perfect little to be his wife. Someone who would submit to him willingly but keep their spirit, a paradox he felt no one could ever reconcile. His last partner had tried but her defiance had led her to cheat on him. But with Laura, he felt, it was different. She would not cheat. He could see it in her eyes. She loved him. He knew she did.
Once he reached the house, he tied up his horse and ran up the steps, pulling at the bell several times before it was answered by an ancient butler. “Yes sir?”
“I must see Lord Rothsfield at once.”
“I am afraid his Lordship is not seeing visitors at the moment. If you would like to leave your calling card, I shall…”
“Oh, to hell with you!” He shoved the butler aside and marched into the house. Striding through the hallway he found his quarry in his study, writing at his desk.
“Lord Rothsfield,” he said, stepping inside. “I must speak to you.”
“If it is about my daughter, she is your problem now. I have paid for the treatment and it is your concern if she rebels, not mine.”
“No,” Edward said, shaking his head. “It is nothing like that. I will be blunt sir. I love your daughter. I would respectfully like to request her hand in marriage.”
Lord Rothsfield leaned back in his chair. “Good God sir. Do you know what you are letting yourself in for?”
“I do.”
“Then I accept. There will be those that grumble but none of them would want her so they can whistle as far as I am concerned. I thought no one would ever take her on. Now, I suppose you will want to get back and give her the news that I have accepted?”
“Get back?”
“To Laura.”
“She is not here?”
Lord Rothsfield blinked in surprise. “Here? Of course she is not here. She is with you.”
Edward reacted quickly, doing his best to keep his expression under control. “Of course she is. Well thank you my Lord for your consent in this matter. I will let you know once her treatment is finished.”
“Good man.”
Edward shook the outstretched hand of Lord Rothsfield before walking out of the house, passing by the butler who still appeared to be recovering from being pushed out of the way. Once the horse was untied, Edward climbed on and rode away, thinking hard. If Laura was not at the house then where on earth was she? Lady Rothsfield had given him to believe she was going home. Where else would she go?
Turning his horse out into the countryside, he rode back home, arriving shortly after nightfall. He walked into the house and called for Mrs Flanders, asking if she had seen Laura.
“No Mr Westall, I assumed she had returned home.”
“As did I. I must go look for her. Tell the littles there will be no bedtime story from me tonight.”
“Of course.”
As he left the house it began to rain, his horse grumbling as it was pulled away from its evening meal. “Where to go?” he said out loud as he rode out of the grounds. Where would Lady Rothsfield have gone?
He spent half the night searching the surrounding villages, calling into each tavern he passed to see if any had seen her or the carriage. It was all to no avail. The rain grew steadily heavier as he travelled further into the countryside until not a single pinprick of light could be seen.
He was slumping down in his seat, the rain running down the back of his neck, when his horse stopped dead. He flicked the reins and nudged its sides with his feet but still it did not move. “What is it girl?” he asked, looking around him. “Come on, get moving.”
The horse whinnied but made no attempt at motion. Cursing it, Edward stepped down and glanced at its feet. Was it injured?
“You are the most stubborn of creatures,” he snapped as he saw no sign of any injury.
At the sound of his voice a moan rose up behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he turned, wondering if the ghost stories about the moors were true after all. The moan came again and he sought out its source. “Who’s there?” he called out.
“Papa?” a weak voice replied. “Is that you?”
He ran to the side of the road and there in the mud was Laura laid on her side. He knelt beside her as she lifted her head. Touching her cheek he exhaled heavily. “You are like ice,” he cried, pulling off his coat and wrapping it round her.
“Is it really you?” she replied, her voice weak.
“It is,” he said, lifting her onto the horse, no easy task as she was coated in mud. “What happened? No, do not speak. Let us get you home first. You will freeze to death if we remain here any longer.”
He held her in place in front of him as he turned the horse and headed home. He shook in head in wonder. His horse had known. Lord only knew how but the beast had known she was there.
When they reached the house, he carried her inside, yelling for Mrs Flanders. “Prepare my bath,” he said. “She needs heat at once.”
“I have your bath ready. I thought you would want it when you returned. The maids have kept it topped up with hot water.”
“Well done.” He walked towards the stairs, carrying Laura’s prone figure in his arms.
“What happened to her? Is she all right?”
“We will discuss it later Mrs Flanders. For now I must warm her.”
Chapter 15 - Laura
Laura had given up any chance of rescue when Edward found her. She had walked along the road for as long as she could, the view never seeming to change. All the while the rain continued to fall and she grew colder. Her entire body felt numb as she stumbled and slid through the thick mud.
When she fell the first time she was able to get up after some effort but the second time she tripped, she remained down for some time, weeping at the injustice of it all. To think that Maria would do all this just for money. Leave her to die in the middle of nowhere.
It was fury that got Laura up again, kept her moving forwards long after she should have succumbed. But even fury cannot overpower the elements. Eventually she stumbled for a final time, her eyes closing. She lay barely conscious in the mud, rolling onto her side and letting out a low moan of despair. Go to sleep, her mind whispered to her. It will all be well after you have had a little nap. You will be warm if you sleep.
She did her best to ignore that whispering voice
but her eyes slowly closed nonetheless. She did not hear the horse approaching until it stopped and whinnied loudly. Blinking mud from her eyes she lifted her head and glanced towards it just in time to hear a voice cursing it for stopping.
“Papa?” she asked, seeing only a dark shadow against the even darker night.
When Edward had swept her up into his arms, she was certain it was the last dream of her tortured mind, a fantasy to bring warmth to her heart even as she froze to death. It was long after the journey home had begun that she realised she was alive. Not only that but he had saved her.
When they reached the house, she was still as cold as ice and the sight of the bath was like manna from heaven to her eyes. She barely noticed she was in Edward’s bedroom, caring only to thaw her frozen body.
Slowly Edward lifted her into the tub, watching her closely as she sank under the surface of the water. To think how close she came to death terrified her and she made herself focus on Edward to distract herself. He seemed a different person. Gone was the anger and fury that seemed ever present in his eyes. It had been replaced by concern, as if his emotional barriers had fallen in the face of the peril she had faced.
At first the water seemed to burn her skin, the heat being barely above lukewarm but to her freezing limbs almost intolerable. She groaned as Edward knelt beside her, a cloth in his hand.
“Do not attempt to speak,” he said, “just lie still.”
She did as he asked, wondering again if this might be a dream. The cloth was dipped in the water and then he lovingly stroked her face with it, teasing the mud from her hair with infinite patience, smiling warmly at her all the while.
“You cannot be Edward,” she whispered whilst he continued to remove the thick mud from her cheeks.
“Oh?” he replied. “And why not?”
“You are smiling.”
“I am smiling because you are alive.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to my horse. He would not let me ride on though Lord knows how he could see you in that darkness.”