The Nanny

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The Nanny Page 13

by Alta Hensley


  It was not that she disliked being little. She enjoyed the attention, the cuddling with her papa, especially during story time, but there were moments in which she wished that he saw her for the adult she was. They had just done something very adult-like and now, not ten minutes later, he was cutting up her food for her to eat dinner. It confused Gia.

  "I like it very much; I just do not understand why we engaged in an intimate activity that is not appropriate for a child, and yet you continue to treat me as little. It confuses me."

  Her papa sat down on the bed beside her, having finished cutting up the meal for her to enjoy. "I know it is a strange notion to accept, at first. I thought you knew what went on, since you were employed as a nanny here."

  "I was a nanny for a week." She had not learned everything, and since her charge Teresa had not acquired a papa, there was a great deal she had not witnessed or experienced until it was her own turn as a little. "I am trying to accept all that is happening," Gia said. "I enjoyed what we shared and I enjoy being little, I really do, but sometimes I wish to be older with you, so that we might share an intellectual conversation. Does that not bother you? Do you really wish to sit with me and read stories all the time, and watch me color?"

  "Do you not enjoy those carefree pastimes?" Papa asked.

  "I do enjoy those activities." She did not want him to think her ungrateful for all he had given her, but she desired more with him. Did he not want all of it with her, too? "I feel stuck." She could not voice the words more specifically, as they would not come.

  "I know it may seem strange, little Gia, but I love watching you color in the playroom. I had hoped you might have got along better with the other littles. Perhaps that is what this unsettled feeling you have is truly about?"

  She nodded. "Yes, that must be it." She did enjoy coloring, and the thought of playing with the dollhouse appealed to her, even though Teresa would not let her participate. She would have to find a way to make amends with the bratty girl—or put her in her place without the nannies discovering what happened.

  Papa fed her, bite after bite, until she had eaten all that she could without being sick. She did not dare stop him from feeding her, for fear that it would upset him. If he enjoyed making sure she ate all of her dinner, what was the harm in it? At least when she dropped a piece off the fork, she was not given blame—unlike at her home as a real child.

  "Giana, I swear, if you do not put that next bite into your mouth, I will mop the floor with your face!" her mother snapped.

  Georgiana, all of five years old, had been talking animatedly with her fork, at which the meatball had flown from the table and rolled across the floor. It had not been bad enough she had done it once, but then the second meatball had been too slippery and rolled right off her plate and table. She had not intended to upset her mother, but it was all too easy a task.

  "I am sorry," Giana whispered, bending down to pick up the mess she had made.

  "Sorry is not good enough, Giana. I will have to scrub the floor and the kitchen walls where you made a mess. It is not enough that I have to cook and clean, but now you are giving me more work to do. Are you happy about that? Get up from the floor. You will only dirty that dress."

  Giana had tried to help. Why could her mother not so much as acknowledge her attempts, even if they were not perfect? Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes watered as she pushed herself back up off the floor to sit down like a young lady should at the table.

  "Eat another bite of that meal and you will not eat another bite all week. I will not be cleaning up any more of your messes tonight, Giana. Go upstairs to bed."

  "I hate you!" Giana's nose twitched as steam seemed to rise from her body—at least it felt that way—as she grew angry with her mother, and her cheeks turned blotchy and red. Her mother was always mean, chiding her for making a mess in her room, at the table, in the kitchen. Her mother wanted a tidy house at all times, everything had its place, and Giana was not sure she fit into that perfect picture.

  Her only ally—and barely one at that—her father, was out on business, having missed the tears that followed and the loss of her appetite as she stormed up the stairs into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. She had sworn never to come out until she was married. Giana knew it was a long way away, but at least then a man would rescue her, protect her from the beast of a mother she had, and a nearly invisible father.

  "Would you like me to cut you up any more food?" Papa asked.

  Her stomach felt full and she shook her head. "I cannot eat anything more. Thank you for feeding me." He had been too kind, the feeling was strange for a girl who had not got along well with her parents while she was growing up.

  Papa quietly ate his own dinner, cutting up his meat as he took one bite at a time.

  The room was thick with silence, and she did not know whether to help, or just sit still so as to not disturb him. The memory of her family had made her more hesitant, and slightly uncertain as to what to do and how to properly behave. At times, she still did not know how to be little. The concept felt foreign but welcoming, a strange combination that she could not explain, even if she had wanted to.

  As he finished his dinner, Gia sat quietly, keeping him company. Papa stood and cleaned up the tray of food. "I will be back in just a minute."

  She watched him disappear from the room and stood, walking toward the window to stare out at the night sky. The moon had risen, and with it the stars sprinkled across the sky.

  The door behind her opened and she glanced over her shoulder at her papa. "It is quite beautiful outside. When I was a small child, I used to stare out at the night sky whenever I found myself locked in my room," she said.

  Papa frowned. "Why were you locked in your room?"

  "My presence did not seem to please my mother," Gia said. There was no point in lying about it. He would see right through that and besides, she already had one lie to harbor, she did not need an even bigger one to go along with it.

  "I am sorry to hear that. A child should never feel that way about where she comes from, her home. I promise, Gia, that when we leave Ashby, you will be happy about joining me at my estate, and pleased with our arrangements. I never want you to be dissatisfied with your life or those in it."

  Gia smiled politely and spun around in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You could never make me unhappy. My mother was a difficult woman. It was not her fault. She suffered from 'delire emotif', a disease of the emotions…" Her voice trailed off, not wishing to further elaborate on the specifics.

  "I am sorry. Perhaps it is for the best that she has passed. She will no longer find the struggle that likely encompassed her daily."

  "Yes, I am certain that she is at peace, now." Gia did not finish her thought that her mother's peace had come when she'd had her daughter thrown from the estate and banished from her home over a scandal that was not even remotely true. It sickened her how easily one could have their reputation ruined while being entirely innocent. No one seemed to care about her side of the story, or what she had grappled with during her time of need. Instead, she was shunned and thrown from her home like an animal that was no longer wanted.

  "Come," Papa said, taking Gia's hand as he led her toward the bed. "Tell me what is on your mind. I pray it is not your mother."

  She did not dare admit that was what troubled her, that and the lies she had to keep to ensure his happiness—and hers. Gia laughed softly under her breath, trying to break the spell of disappointment and heartache, wanting to feel light, carefree, and much like a child again. Theo had given her something she had never imagined possible. Making her feel young, youthful… it was truly the best gift for a girl who had had a difficult upbringing.

  "I cannot believe you are here, with me," Gia said. She smiled warmly, trying to ease any doubts or concerns he might feel.

  "Do you mean in the nursery? I spoke with Headmaster Philip, and he gave me special permission to keep you company and tuck you into bed."


  "Is it my bedtime yet?" It seemed too early. They had only recently eaten, and though the sun had set, it did not seem late enough for bed.

  "Not yet. We will give you a bath and then it will be time for a special treat and into bed."

  "What kind of special treat?" Her heart lifted at the mere mention of a surprise. He had a way of taking away her cares and heartache, erasing the pain for her.

  "You will find out after your bath. I know you will be good for me, won't you, little Gia?"

  "Of course, Papa. I will not disappoint you." She would do everything possible to shield him from the lies she had told.

  He placed a chaste kiss atop her head. "I have no doubt. I am going to fetch a maid to bring in hot water for your bath, and fresh linens. Undress for me so that you will be ready when the tub is full."

  Papa left, and Gia closed the curtains and turned up the lantern to brighten the room, leaving it on a stool beside the tub. She did not have the ability to remove the gown herself, the ties were much too tight and difficult to reach.

  Not wanting to disappoint her papa, she removed her stockings and bloomers, leaving the white garments folded neatly in a pile on the floor.

  Her papa returned a few minutes later and left the door open as the maid carried buckets of steaming water to pour into the bath.

  "Why are you not out of your gown?" he asked.

  Gia reached around, showing her papa that she could not loosen the ties properly. "I need help with the laces."

  "Right." He nodded, gesturing for her to come over to him.

  She stepped closer and turned her back, letting him untie the dress before she lifted her arms as he guided the gown from her small frame. "Thank you, Papa."

  He smiled, his eyes sparkling in the lamplight. "I will also remove your bottom plug. It would be best if you placed your arms on the tub and bent forward, with your legs stretched wide." He took her hand and led her to the tub.

  Her stomach was a flurry of butterflies once again. "All right." She knew the implement would have to come out eventually. Would it hurt, as it had when it had first been pushed past her pink pucker? When the nanny had inserted it earlier, Giana had instantly realized it was a larger size than the one before. The pain had eventually ceased, and instead it made her feel full and warm, a constant reminder of her papa.

  Papa's hands grazed her lower back and down across her cheeks before guiding her legs even further apart. "Good girl. I just want you to breathe and relax. It may feel a little awkward."

  The entire situation, with him staring at her bottom and touching her intimately, felt strange. Why would she expect anything different when it involved her papa?

  He gently guided the plug, tugging the handle as the shaft withdrew from her.

  She moaned at the movement and the intimacy, imagining it was his cock inside her there. Oh, the sinful thoughts that filled her mind! The disgrace for such an act, should anyone discover what she had been involved in doing!

  "That is my good little Gia. You should get into the tub." The maid had been filling it slowly, one bucket at a time. It was not nearly full enough for her to have a proper bath, yet.

  Was he in a rush to get her tucked into bed? As a nanny, she had always waited until the tub was filled, but she did not think it appropriate to correct her papa. He bent down to feel the temperature of the water before helping her into the porcelain bath.

  The water level was above her legs but did not cover her entire stomach. Perhaps, if a small child had been bathing, the amount would have been appropriate, but as a grown woman, she desired more water.

  Papa grabbed a small cloth and wet it, finding the bar of soap nearby, lathering it onto the cotton. He took it upon himself to bathe her. Unlike when she had been a nanny and squeamish about touching her charge, Papa appeared to have no trouble washing her.

  The wet soapy cloth, guided by his hand, moved down her neck and across each breast, paying careful attention to her nipples as he ran the rag in circles before dipping lower, over and across her stomach. His eyes stayed on her face most of the time. Was he watching her expression, or trying not to stare at her? Did he not enjoy what he saw?

  "Spread your legs, love," he whispered, before moving the washcloth down between her silky folds, rubbing and caressing the soft, sensitive skin of her quim.

  She rocked her hips against his hand, wanting and needing to feel that rush of euphoria again. What had he done to her to make her think solely of the intimacy they shared? Did every young woman experience that same feeling after being cared for and loved? Though it should have seemed sudden, for she had just met him, for Gia, it had been a lifetime of waiting for the happiness he brought her.

  "I want you," she said as his finger gently grazed her pussy folds and cleaned every bit of her skin, seen and unseen.

  "You will have me tonight, after your bath." He smiled and moved the washcloth lower, scrubbing gently at the skin on her thighs and then her legs. He reapplied more soap to the rag before working across her back and down to her bottom, applying the same pressure as he had to her cunny. Grateful the plug had been removed, she could feel her rosebud was extra sensitive from all the recent attention. She squirmed under his ministrations with the wet cloth, and after a minute of unbearable rough attention, he withdrew the rag. "Let me wash your hair." He guided her under the surface of the water as the maid finished emptying the last bucket into the tub.

  Gia did not remark upon the fact that she was almost done with her bath and that there was only now a proper amount of water in it. Instead, she leaned back and let the warm liquid rush over her head, closing her eyes and mouth as she did so. She held her breath for a moment before breaking the seal and coming back up.

  Theo's hands were filled with suds, and as he rubbed his palms together with the soap and worked the lather into her long, dark hair, she relaxed under his touch. It was nice to be cared for, loved, and to have someone else do for her what she had done for the littles. "Thank you," she said, truly appreciating all he had done for her and would likely do in the future. The doubts she had once had seemed to be lessening the more time she spent in his care.

  "Do not thank me yet. I have yet to rinse the suds and do not want to get any soap in your eyes. A challenge indeed," he said and she could almost hear his smile even with her eyes squeezed tightly closed.

  She dipped back under the water and could feel his fingers trailing through her hair, pushing the soap bubbles out and away as she lifted her head, the water dripping down her body. Although his decision to have her get in before the maid had finished filling the bath was unorthodox, the water had not chilled and was most comfortable. She had finished her bath but did not wish to get out of the tub just yet.

  Papa retrieved a towel and held it out, his arms wide for her to climb into his embrace. "You are done, Gia."

  She shook her head, her hands skimming through the water as she lay submerged almost up to her breasts. Gia sank down a little further to retain every ounce of warmth. The air felt cold and chilly, and she did not want to experience it any sooner than absolutely necessary.

  "I do not wish to be done," she whined. "The water is perfect. Feel it."

  "I did, while bathing you. Come on out. It is time to get you ready for bed. Do you remember that special treat we talked about earlier?"

  Gia did remember his mentioning a special present, but choosing between that and the warm water, was tough. Would her nanny give her extra time to play in the tub, or would she be just as quick to get her washed and done as her papa?

  "Papa, when I graduate from Ashby, will there be a nanny living with us?" She was curious to know whether this would be her life forever or just for the next few years. Either way, she would be pleased with the response, but she was curious all the same.

  "That is something that will be discussed later, when the time has come for your graduation. You have quite some time left here, my little Gia. A few years, if I am not mistaken."

  "Yes, although
I do like to think ahead." She could not help herself, even if she had wanted to.

  "Another reason why you should remain at the chateau for a little while. What becomes of your life when we are wed is for me to decide. Until that day comes, you must trust that Nanny Vivian, Headmaster Philip, and I will take good care of you." He leaned down toward the tub and grabbed Gia by the arm. "Bath time is over. If I have to tell you again, your bottom will receive a firm reminder that will stick with you until morning."

  She refrained from grumbling as she stood, the water dripping down her torso. Her nipples instantly hardened from the icy blast of cool air in the room.

  Papa wrapped the towel around her frame and helped her out, drying her off, rubbing the linen over every inch of her wet skin. He led her back into the nursery room and opened the dresser, retrieving a lavender nightgown. "This will look very pretty on you, Gia."

  She let the towel fall around her feet, and Papa guided her arms and then her head into the gown before letting the thin sheer material cascade down her curves, to hang just above the knee. It was short, and she could have sworn he could see her rosy nipples through the fabric.

  "It is time for your special treat," Papa said.

  Her heart raced and she nervously chewed her lip. What would her papa have got for her that she would like? Her hands twitched as she sat perched on the edge of the bed in wonder, her brown eyes wide and full of excitement.

  Chapter XV

  Theo struggled to contain his jubilation at the prospect of the special treat he had planned for her. He had been generous this afternoon, caring for his little Gia, letting her find his touch satisfying as he had brought her over the edge.

  Now it was his turn to feel her tongue on his cock. Would she willingly accept his gift, or shy away from such an act? If she was nervous, he would find it necessary to convince her that it would do nothing to sully her reputation.

 

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