by Zoe Blake
Already knowing the truth, he placed her on her stomach over his lap.
"Oh please don't spank me," she begged.
"Shhh…you silly girl," he admonished. "I am not going to spank you."
He gently pulled down her pantaloons, exposing her pert little bottom. Although the crimson blush from her earlier birching had faded, there were still some faint scratch marks. He traced one with his finger. Angeline inhaled, her awareness of him evident.
He ran two fingers down the seam of her bottom, over her wet cunny. His adorable little pain submissive! He rocked his middle finger and thumb back and forth over the sensitive skin between her clit and puckered rosebud. Slowly increasing the swiftness and pressure. Angeline began to moan and squirm about on his lap.
As he rubbed her clit in small, quick circles with the pads of his fingers, he slowly pushed his thumb, wet from her own arousal, into her bottom. Angeline gasped and arched her back.
"Ow…ow…I…I..." she stammered.
"You cannot come without a kiss of pain, love," he whispered. "Papa understands what you need little one. There is no shame in giving your body what it craves. Now, I want you to learn to cum with your bottom painfully stretched."
Still ashamed but learning the truth of his statement, she settled back on his lap and let the sharp, stinging ache in her bottom bring her to release.
* * * * *
Several hours later, the carriage finally pulled up to his estate. Blackhurst emerged with a sleeping, sated Angeline in his arms. He was greeted by his butler, Baxter.
"Good evening, Baxter. There was a change of plans," he announced sardonically.
"I see that, my lord. There is no cause for alarm. The nanny has the nursery all in readiness."
"I knew you would have everything in hand. I will take her there now."
When Angeline awoke the next morning, her world would never be the same again.
Chapter Nine - Forced To Become His Little One
Angeline opened her eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room. The walls were painted a pretty light blue. Massive windows were draped in reams and reams of ivory silk fluffed into soft billows making them look like floating clouds. Sitting up in bed to get a closer look, she could see petite furniture throughout the room. There was an adorable table and chair set with a beautiful silver tea service on it. A small chaise filled with stuffed bears and dolls. Even a large dollhouse more detailed than anything she had ever seen. Before she had a chance to get out of bed to get a closer look, a voice broke through the morning silence.
"It is about time you awoke."
Startled, Angeline turned to see a severe looking older women staring down at her from the other side of the bed. She had on a crisp, white apron over a satin black dress. The only adornment, a small watch pinned to the lapel. The tight chignon hairstyle for her salt and pepper hair matching her tight lipped frown.
"Who are you?" asked Angeline. "Where is Lord Blackhurst?"
"Lord Blackhurst?" repeated the indignant woman. "Lord Blackhurst! I see we certainly have our work cut out for us," her words dripping with disapproval. She grabbed Angeline by the ear and dragged her out of the bed. "It is Papa to you, little miss, not Lord Blackhurst. Don't you ever forget it?"
The stern woman did not release Angeline's poor ear till they were both standing in a large bathing room. While Angeline had been introduced to the luxury of indoor plumbing at Lady Shackelton's, this bathroom was especially extraordinary. First, it was enormous. Floor to ceiling jade tile, mahogany shelves which held squares of linen and jars of scented oils, to one side a massive club footed tub and to the other a large table that Angeline thought would be more suited in a kitchen. It was a large, rectangle oak table with two curious holes cut in the center towards the one end. It was towards this table the stern woman gave her a shove.
"Do not dawdle. We do not have all morning," she admonished.
Angeline padded over to the table in her bare feet noticing the tile floors were nice and warm, helped by the cheery fireplace. Once there, she stood expectantly, not sure what more the woman wanted of her.
"Good lord, you are a muddled headed one this morning," she scolded. "Arms up."
Angeline obeyed. It not occurring to her to do otherwise. The stern woman quickly whisked her nightgown over her head. Before Angeline could think to cover her nudity, the woman took hold of her upper arm and hoisted her onto the cold, hard wooden table.
"Up you go. Do not make me spank that bottom of yours red before breakfast. Lay flat on your tummy. Put your arms through the holes," the stern woman instructed.
At the threat of a spanking, Angeline moved much faster. Still confused as to what was happening and who was this thin-lipped woman. She laid down on the hard surface of the table and dangled her arms through the holes. She started to panic when she felt thick leather straps being placed over her calves.
"What are you doing?" Angeline asked as she tried to rise.
The stern woman pushed her down between her shoulder blades.
"Strapping you down of course, silly girl. Your Papa was unsure if you have ever had an enema, judging by your erratic disobedient behavior I should say not, but we cannot take any chances. You will be strapped down till we know you can behave during one," she said matter-of-factly.
"An enema?" asked an alarmed Angeline. "But I don't want an enema!"
"Well it isn't up to you now is it?" answered the stern woman smugly as she belted a strap across Angeline's shoulder blades.
"I want Lord Black…I mean I want Papa!" she whined. "Where is Papa?"
"Hush, silly girl. Cease your prattling on this instant, I say. Such a fuss over a simple bottom cleaning! Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."
Angeline's cheek rested against the cool surface of the smooth wood as she listened to the sounds of the woman moving about the room preparing the unwanted enema. She started when she felt warm fingers prying open her bottom cheeks.
"Please," she cried out. "Please, don't this."
"Stop your sniveling."
Angeline's bottom cheeks were spread wide. She felt a lubricated finger push its way past her puckered hole. Unlike with Papa, this felt cold…impersonal. The finger swirled around once, twice, three times before pulling out with a grotesque popping sound.
Angeline burned with humiliation. She could not contain a sob when a hard, narrow nozzle was shoved deep into her bottom. She had heard about enemas but had never had one. The whole idea horrified her.
"Well, look how easy that slid in. Looks like your Papa has been working on loosening up your little bottom hole I see," the woman said cheerily.
"Please don't talk of such things," Angeline begged, her face cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Before she could say anything further, her mortification deepened to new levels.
"I see we are ready to begin, Mrs. Chapel," said Blackhurst by way of greeting.
"Indeed, my lord."
Angeline turned tortured eyes up to meet his amused silver ones. That he should see her naked and strapped to a table about to receive an enema. It was too much degradation.
"And how is my little angel today?" he asked, stroking her cheek.
"I…I..." Angeline could not form the words to express how she was feeling in that moment.
Blackhurst leaned in close to whisper into her ear. "We are going to clean out that little bottom of yours so we can stretch it open with Papa's cock."
Angeline's eyes grew wide at his words.
"Oh yes, mon amorette, my thumb was just the beginning," he said with a grin. Looking up at Mrs. Chapel, he said, "Nanny, if you would proceed."
"Yes, my lord."
With that, Angeline heard a click, moments later she felt warm water pushing into her body. At first the sensation was odd but not wholly unpleasant. All too soon the sensation changed. The water was rushing in too fast. Her body could not hold it. The pressure started to build. Lying flat on her tummy as she was, the weight of her body pressed down, increasing the press
ure. Angeline began to moan and shift from side to side as much as the restraints would allow. She fisted her hands together below the table in distress.
Mrs. Chapel watched with an approving eye. "It really was ingenious, my lord, to consider using a birching table for an enema procedure," she said with true appreciation.
"Thank you, Mrs. Chapel," he said. "It has been in my family for generations. My great, great uncle picked it up in Saltmarket, Scotland from some Prison. It is marvelously versatile."
Having only met Mrs. Chapel last evening, he approved of Baxter's choice in hire. She was a solid woman from good country stock. The women in her family had been special nannies to gentile woman for generations. He explained that Angeline would need additional discipline and a strict schedule given she was not raised within the ton but rather as a commoner and without the guiding influence of a strong male in her early life. He felt Mrs. Chapel would be more than equal to the task.
A long, plaintive wail brought him out of his musings. Angeline was rocking on her hips and trying to raise up on her knees to relieve the pressure in her bowels.
"Oh god, please, make it stop."
He placed a hand on her naked backside and rubbed it in circles. "You still have half a bag of warm, soapy water to take up that little bottom of yours. Then you must hold it for a good twenty minutes."
Angeline started to cry. "But it hurts!" Her stomach would not stop cramping and clenching.
"I know, baby. I know," he said as he stroked her hair. "But you must do this for me."
"Why," she whispered.
"I told you, love. I'm going to use your bottom hole like I use your mouth and your tight cunny. You must trust your Papa. It will bring you pleasure. I promise."
Angeline did not respond but closed her eyes as another punishing cramp wrenched her whole body. A thin sheen of sweat made her ivory skin glisten. After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Chapel unstrapped her from the table and allowed her to run to the privacy of the water closet. When she emerged weak and shaking, she was immediately hurried into a warm bath.
Blackhurst sat in a plush chair by the fire, observing Angeline in her bath much as he had observed her in the parlor the night of the party. She was not allowed to wash herself. Mrs. Chapel used a soapy linen cloth to gently stroke up and down each limb. She even brushed over her breasts and between her legs making Angeline blush even further.
After she was dried off from her bath, Mrs. Chapel led her by the hand back to the birching table, Angeline resisted. The stinging slap to her backside took her completely by surprise. With a yelp, she turned to see an angry scowl on Blackhurst's…Papa's face. Without any more defiance, she allowed herself to be laid out on the table, this time on her back with her knees up.
"Lift up your bottom," instructed Mrs. Chapel.
Angeline obeyed. She felt something soft being slid underneath her.
"Do you have any instructions regarding her cunny, my lord?"
Angeline whimpered in humiliation as they both stared down at her exposed cunny. Blackhurst reached out and brushed a knuckle over the soft, downy hair.
"Given what we have planned, I think it best we shave it. Get the straight razor ready and I shall do it myself before her daily enema tomorrow morning," he said.
Angelina's mind whirled with all the horrible things wrong with what he just said. What was happening?
"Very good, my lord," responded Mrs. Chapel as she drew the fabric beneath Angelina up between her legs. She pulled a pin from her apron pocket and secured a corner of the fabric before repeating the same to the other side. "Okay, up you go." She helped Angeline off the table.
"No! No!"
Angeline tried to tear at the diaper that was just put on her. What was happening?
Blackhurst grabbed at her wrists. "Remove that diaper and I shall strap you down to that table and show you its original birching rod use. You remember the sting of the birch rod don't you, little one?" he asked fiercely.
"I am not a child! Why am I in a diaper?"
"Because I will it so," was his only response. He did not intend to always keep her in one, but an early harsh lesson would make a strong, lasting impression.
He turned to Mrs. Chapel. "Get her dressed and bring her to the morning room." With that, he left.
* * * * *
Blackhurst thought his little Angeline was a vision the moment she was led through the door of the morning room. Finally, he was seeing her dressed appropriately.
Her hair hung loose in large sugar-curls framing her beautiful heart-shaped face and secured with a dark blue ribbon that matched her eyes. She wore a white pinafore dress that ended mid-thigh with an under blouse of dark blue. Her legs were bare except for white knee socks that ended in black slippers. Her sweet, high cheeks were tinged the prettiest pink in her embarrassment at being so childishly displayed.
"Turn around."
Angeline reluctantly did so.
Blackhurst loved the ruffles that covered the bottom of her little bloomers as they peeked out from the high hem of her innocent dress. She looked like a living, angelic doll. His doll baby.
"I don't understand what is happening. Why are you treating me like this?" she whimpered.
He reached up to brush a tear away from her cheek, then picked her up and cradled her in his arms as he walked to sit at the head of the small morning room table.
"Tell me, love, were you pleased with Lady Herrington's son?"
"Wh…what?" asked Angeline confused.
"Were you pleased with Lord Herrington? It is a simple question. Did he meet your girlish expectations of what a charming lord in attendance should be?"
"No," she whispered.
"I didn't hear you, love."
"No, he ignored me and was mean," she answered only marginally louder.
"I see," he said with a look of calm understanding as he played with a lock of her hair. "Did you know he planned to make sport of you by taking your maidenhead in front of the guests later the first evening of the party?"
Angeline was too shocked to answer so Blackhurst continued.
"And your escapade in Lady Shackelton's maze?"
"Stop!" cried Angeline as she tried to place her hands over her ears.
"I believe when I found you…you were making a new friend." His voice was calm and smooth but his words were ruthless. "Shall we discuss the excessive wine next?"
Angeline grabbed the lapels of his jacket as she buried her face against his neck. "No, no. Please don't!"
He stroked her back as he pressed kisses against her hair. "My love, in the few days I have known you, you have proven time and again that you not only need a firm hand to find pleasure but also to guide your actions."
Angeline wrenched herself out of his arms and off his lap, stumbling back. Her wanton, wicked need to feel pain in order to feel pleasure was a source of great embarrassment for her. She refused to come to terms with how it made her feel to be held down by his strong arms. The very memory of how her body betrayed her in the carriage ride to his estate brought tears to her eyes. She shouldn't enjoy being treated in such a way let alone crave it.
"It's not true." She sniffed, backing away. "It's not!" she yelled, stomping her foot.
Blackhurst slowly rose to tower over her small frame.
Angry that she should still be questioning his judgment, he abruptly seized her by the shoulders and bent her over the table. "I will show you the truth of my words, little one."
Flipping her short skirt up, he yanked her bloomers and cloth diaper down to her knees. Freeing his cock from his trousers, Blackhurst pushed the blunt head between her closed thighs, relishing in the tight feel.
"No! I don't want this!" screamed Angeline as she struggled to rise.
"Yes, you do," he rasped as he kept a restraining left hand on her lower back, using his right hand to position his cock at her entrance as the tip slid against her wetness.
He thrust his hips forward, driving his shaft inside o
f her to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Angeline gasped at the burning pain as her body struggled to accommodate his girth. She moaned as swells of intense sensation rippled up her spine.
"Stop," she breathed, overcome.
"No." He raised his right hand and gave her a stinging slap on her bottom just as he thrust forward. He continued the dual assault. Spanking her bottom to a throbbing bright red while tearing into her tight passage with each thrust of his cock.
The warm heat from his punishing spanks matched the growing heat building inside her. She held her breath, anticipating his next hit…his next thrust.
Against her will, she felt the light-headed rush of a release. Her head tilted back as her breath rushed back in short gasps. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt the dizzying warmth overtake her. Moments later, she felt his hand in her hair, pulling her off the table and on to her knees.
"Open your mouth."
She whimpered, stubbornly keeping her mouth shut. He yanked on her hair harder. Angeline submitted, watching as he fisted his erect cock, pumping it close to her open mouth. Finally, he came with a roar. Spurts of warm cum dribbled onto her tongue.
Blackhurst fell back into his chair. "Keep your mouth open. Don't swallow."
She reluctantly raised her gaze and held his as the taste of his cum slowly dissolved on her tongue. Tasting the truth of his words.
* * * * *
Later when she was permitted to rise. Blackhurst explained her new situation in his household.
"I am taking over your care," he stated bluntly. "It is my prerogative to treat you like a child. Since your actions over the last few days have shown you to have the petulant foolishness of one, I would say my instincts are not far off. You have already met Mrs. Chapel. You must call her Nanny. She will be responsible for bathing, feeding and schooling you, under my direct supervision of course. You will receive daily special training from me as well as any discipline that may be required."
"What if I don't choose to be under your care?" she asked petulantly, still smarting from the lesson he just gave her.