Effie

by Stevie MacFarlane

  “Ah, Effie,” Tempest sighed, brushing away a tear. “You are so lovely and so thin,” she said with chagrin. “Once I was the same.”

  “Ma Ma, you’re beautiful,” Amelia cried before Effie could respond.

  “Merci, ma angel,” Tempest replied, “but I will never fit in this lovely dress again. I am, how you say, puffed up,” she sighed, puffing out her cheeks and holding her hands on the sides of her hips.

  “I believe having those monstrous sons had something to do with it,” Effie laughed.

  “Oui, they were big bebes and with age, things begin to spread out,” she finished sadly.

  “Pa Pa adores you, and so do I,” Amelia insisted. “You’re still much more beautiful than you realize.”

  “It’s true,” Effie assured her. “I only hope I look as good when I am your age. You should celebrate and soon Amelia will give you beautiful granddaughters,” she teased.

  “Oui, there is that,” Tempest agreed with a smile. “And you too, Effie. Samuel and you shall have lovely bebes. Hurry up s’il vous plait.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait. Will I still be Aunt Grace, even though we all didn’t marry brothers like we planned?”

  “You will always be our sister,” Effie insisted. “Therefore, you will be Aunt Grace no matter what. Now help me get this dress off before something happens to it.”

  *

  Sam came to Effie’s room that night and every night for the next two weeks. He tortured her on a minute to minute basis. No place was safe. At the table, he stroked her thighs under the tablecloth, trailing his fingers up her leg until they encountered her damp pantalets. Patting them in approval he smiled and returned to eating his dinner.

  Each time he caught her alone during the day, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her until she was breathless. Then he would pat her bottom and walk away.

  Nights were the worst. He entered her room after everyone had gone to bed and she was near sleep, always bringing with him a salt cellar which he placed on her night table. It was his way of reminding her she was indeed eating her words.

  Some nights he undressed her carefully, on others he shredded her gown with his bare hands. Often he brought her a glass of wine, and she knew those nights were going to be especially difficult.

  His lips learned every inch of her body and its responses, knowing when to suck and lick her breasts and when to bite gently. He rarely spoke, other than to ask the whereabouts of the gun or to tell her to be quiet.

  That part was the most difficult of all. On days when he deemed she’d misbehaved, he had no compunction about pulling her over his knees or placing her on her tummy as he spanked her. Lying beside her on the bed, he forced her to look at him as his hard hand fell over and over. Twice she’d wandered off on her own and it took him hours to find her. On both of those nights he gagged her with a handkerchief, lest she wake his parents or the Blackthorns, and spanked her to tears.

  He didn’t scold; they both knew the danger having Remington and his cohorts around still presented. He punished, thoroughly and at times heartlessly, or so it seemed to Effie. Always, always he tempered pain with pleasure. It was galling to be crying one moment and pleading the next, but that’s exactly what she did.

  Not at first, of course. At first she was stoic, refusing to give him the satisfaction of voicing her needs, but that didn’t last long. Soon she was begging him for release, but Sam just smiled and tapped her ring finger meaningfully.

  Many nights Effie was tempted to take her gun out of its hiding place and shoot him on principle. She thought often about leaving, but couldn’t make herself buy the passage. What if he was telling the truth? What if no other man made her feel this way, ever?

  Sam was slow and methodical, as though he planned each night well in advance, calculating what would cause her the most pain, embarrassment or pleasure, depending on his mood or her behavior.

  Today, she’d ridden over to Amelia’s without telling anyone and tonight would likely prove to be one of those nights. He fetched her without a word and hardly spoke throughout dinner.

  Nervous and angry, Effie retired early, bolting her door and dragging a heavy chest in front of it. She was reading in bed when he came in through the window.

  “Hugh and I used these windows for many of our midnight escapades,” he informed her, setting a jar on her night table. “Locking your door won’t keep me out Effie, especially when you’ve been naughty as you were today. Put the book down.”

  “No!”

  “Wonderful,” he crowed. “Your defiance only makes what I am about to do to you more justifiable.”

  Effie slid across the bed and out the other side, making a dive for the window, but he caught her nightgown in his fist before she reached the handle. Reeling her in, he lifted her in his arms and strode to the bed. Sitting, he pulled her quickly over his lap and shoved her gown up, baring her bottom.

  “Lovely, you’d never know you were spanked only two nights ago,” he said, stroking her softly. “Your ass is as pristine as a child’s, a good thing with your attitude. You’ll come to be grateful you recover so quickly, my love. Now go and get your hairbrush and bring two handkerchiefs,” he ordered, giving her a sharp slap on her left cheek. “Hurry along.”

  Effie obeyed. Even if she screamed the house down, no one could get into her room, thanks to her brilliant mismanagement of the situation. Walking to her bureau, she opened the top drawer and retrieved two of his large handkerchiefs. He’d determined early on her dainty ones would not do. Her heavy mahogany hairbrush looked like a formidable weapon and she wondered how hard she’d have to hit him with it to knock him out. The idea she might somehow damage his brain was enough to stop her. While she could beat the spanking part out of his head cheerfully, she would be hard pressed to give up his other skills.

  “Please don’t use that on me, Sam,” she pleaded as she handed him the items.

  Hefting the brush in his hand he studied it and then placed it on the bed beside him.

  “Lift up your gown, Euphemia.”

  Effie obeyed. She didn’t take it off, he hadn’t told her to and they’d covered this ground before. Holding it above her breasts seemed to be all he demanded.

  Sam took the gown from her hands and slipped it around her neck, leaving it bunched behind her and tight on her arms.

  “Offer me your breasts.”

  Lifting her breasts with one hand under each she offered them, taking a slight step forward. She wished he would take off his shirt so she could press her skin against his, instead he grasped her hips. Pulling her closer he licked each nipple before blowing softly, bringing them to life.

  Effie squirmed, and Sam slapped her bottom crisply.

  “Stay still. We’re not going to discuss your antics today,” he sighed before he sucked a pouty nipple into his mouth and drew on it hard before releasing it. “Suffice it to say that by the time I allow you to go to sleep; my displeasure will be clearly expressed.”

  Effie nodded, her head dropping back as he drew the other nipple in firmly.

  Tracing a finger down her torso, Sam stopped at the juncture of her thighs and tapped once. Effie spread her legs.

  “Good girl,” he said approvingly as he slipped his hand between them and found her delightfully wet. “I wish you knew how hard this is for me, sweetheart.”

  Effie couldn’t help herself, she snorted.

  “What, you don’t believe me? You think it’s easy to come to your room each night and touch you like this?” he demanded.

  “You’ll pardon my saying so, but it seems much harder on me than it is on you,” Effie retorted.

  “You’re wrong, my love. It’s your innocence speaking, I know that. Whatever I do to your body causes me as much pain as it does you. Why do you think I never take off my trousers?”

  “I don’t know, I hadn’t thought about it beyond the obvious. I’ve asked you to take them off many times.”

  “I know, but I will not until we are wed. After
that I may never wear them again. I may stay stark naked and fuck you a thousand times before I can make up for what I’ve gone through the last two weeks,” he growled. “Now over my lap.”

  “Sam, why won’t you um… take me?” Effie asked as she allowed him to guide her into position.

  “I believe you said I was ‘all hat and no cattle’ my dear. I mean to show you that is not true. If I say you will be aching with need when you stand before the preacher, thus assuring your compliance, I will do so. I never again want you to doubt my word.”

  “Sam, I believe you. I’m aching now and have been for a long time,” she cried. “Please grant me release as you did that night in the kitchen. I’m sorry I said it. I was just angry,” she pleaded.

  “And so you shall learn to guard your words lest they come back to bite you in the ass,” he replied, spanking her bottom sharply five times.

  “I will, I promise,” she sniffed as she wiggled against his strong hold.

  “Good, then we are making progress. We are coming to an understanding as many husbands and wives do, with the lady over her husband’s knee.”

  “Please don’t spank me, love me,” she sobbed.

  “I fear I already do, my Effie. Much as it pains me, I’ve fallen under your spell. You’re a strong woman, you need a strong man. That’s why it’s so important to establish boundaries right from the start. I will not be manipulated or lied to, not now, not at any time in our marriage. I will be a good husband to you and you, Miss Euphemia Lane, will be a respectful and obedient wife. Well, as well as you’re able. When you are not, we will have a session. Now put your handkerchief in your mouth, you’re going to need it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam began spanking her in earnest, each series of smacks harder than the last. Effie hollered around the cotton in her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. Sam was right. She never should have ridden to Amelia’s alone without telling anyone. Had it not been for that, he would be torturing her in an entirely different way and while he never let her achieve that spectacular ending, she now knew he suffered too, which was no small consolation.

  While he often took off his shirt, boots and socks, he never removed his pants. To hear his reasoning was in itself a revelation. Had she not seen him with her own eyes, she would suspect he was deformed in some way, but he was magnificent naked. Her body grew wetter just thinking about the appendage between his legs and how it felt buried inside her. Even the pain of his hand could not stop the moisture from seeping onto her thighs.

  *

  Sam watched the color of her skin carefully as it went from creamy ivory to pink to vivid flaming rose. He couldn’t take the spanking too far as he intended finishing with that hairbrush come hell or high water. She deserved it for making him, as well as his mother, frantic with worry. Effie was lucky he didn’t cut a switch on the way home and wail the naughty right out of her.

  When her cries reached the level of a regular ‘you better be good’ spanking, he stopped and picked up the brush.

  “This is going to hurt like hell, Effie, and I want you to remember it. Keep your voice down, or I’ll add to this licking in a big way. You earned it and nothing will stop me from giving it to you. When I’m finished here, I have another surprise for you, one that will surely make you think twice about doing this sort of thing again.”

  Ten times his hand fell with the stout brush, five on each cheek, and all on the lower curve of her bottom. The welts he raised would make her cringe each time she sat and hopefully they would last until the wedding so this didn’t have to be repeated.

  Sam rubbed her back until her squeals died down to sporadic sobs. Reaching for the jar he twisted off the top and scooped a good amount of thick white cream onto his middle finger.

  “Take out the handkerchief, Effie. I want to hear your words.”

  Spreading her cheeks apart, Sam deposited a glob at the small opening to her rectum and waited for her reaction. It wasn’t long coming.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, looking over her shoulder.

  “I’m teaching you there are more ways than one to punish a naughty wife. Right now you’re thinking a spanking with the hairbrush is the worst thing that can happen to you, and I want to disabuse you of that notion. Believe me, my love, there are hundreds of ways to punish you and I’m not opposed to many of them. Hold still and don’t fight me and it will be over in a bit.”

  Prodding gently at her bottom hole, Sam began to make headway, pushing the cream in first. It melted quickly with the heat of her body and he scooped more from the jar.

  Effie squirmed, fought and begged but he would not be deterred. When he had his finger inside her tight channel to the first knuckle she froze as though in shock.

  Fearing he was causing her too much discomfort he slipped his other hand under her tummy.

  “Lift up,” he ordered in a stern voice. “I’ll be generous this time, but if you repeat the offence, I won’t be the next time. I hope this is making you suitably ashamed of yourself, you naughty little brat.”

  Effie complied, still strangely silent as she allowed him access to her folds. His thick finger settled on her clit, applying pressure and moving as much as her lower lips would allow. Withdrawing from her bottom he returned to the jar yet again and added a generous amount of goo to her slightly open hole. With determination, he worked his finger as deep inside as it would go, wiggling it he nearly groaned at the tightness of her dark passage. He could even feel her narrowing further as he thrust in an out, thinking it would be a long time before she disobeyed him again after this lesson.

  Then he felt it, the rhythmic clamping of her anal walls as she screamed out his name. Her hips wiggled frantically, her body a mass of quivering flesh as she spent over his knee, her bottom flaming red and his finger buried in her ass. Good heavens, it seemed to last forever and he stayed well-seated inside her until she hung limp as a noodle over his lap.

  The little brat had come, screaming like a banshee during one of the most humiliating punishments he’d been able to come up with. Sighing, he removed his finger and wiped it off with the clean cloth. His own cock was as hard as steel and begging for release and she was as contented as he’d ever seen her. Giving her a sharp crack on the ass, he helped her up and straightened out her nightgown. The silly smile she wore on her face was enough to give him the vapors.

  Yanking it down, he stared at her for several minutes, but could not think of a single thing to say. Finally she spoke.

  “Thank you, Sam,” she sighed, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. “That was wonderful. I feel oh so much better.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he snapped in reply. His trousers were uncomfortably damp, his head was beginning to pound and there wasn’t a soul in the world he could discuss this with. How did a woman manage to come under such circumstances?

  “Get into bed now,” he ordered gruffly.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied, crawling onto the bed, her little ass wiggling in such a tempting way he felt light-headed.

  “And don’t you dare do anything like this again. Oh, and don’t lock that door,” he said as an afterthought. Picking up the cream, he put the top on and turned to leave.

  “Where are you going with that?” she asked, sitting up, her blonde hair in such disarray she had to push it out of her eyes.

  “Why?” he asked suspiciously, although he expected he knew the answer. Sure enough the little witch responded with a grin.

  “I thought we might need it again sometime.”

  “Insatiable,” he murmured under his breath as he moved the chest away from the door.

  “And Sam?”

  “Yes,” he growled, unlocking the door and turning to glare at her.

  “Forget what I said about the cattle,” she giggled as she collapsed back on the pillows, throwing her arms over her head. “You have herds and herds.”

  Sam slammed the door, not caring who he woke and went to his room. H
e was furious, though mostly at himself. Naturally after being stimulated over and over again, Effie would take her release whenever she could find it. She obviously had no idea she could achieve it by herself. Lord help him when she found out. She would be one busy little bride with her appetites. Being fully aware it was his fault she’d been introduced to carnal pleasures didn’t help. He could have led her gradually to these activities, taking his time and slowly building their relationship up with trust and affection. Instead he’d ravished her like a madman, taking much and giving back very little of himself.

  At first he tried to find a way to blame her. If she wasn’t so innocent she would have insisted he stop. If she wasn’t so appealing with the frosting on her lips, or so warm and sleepy she damn near fell into his arms, he would have been able to control himself. It was delusional of course, and he knew it well. In fact, he couldn’t wait until they were in their own home where he would tie her to the worktable in the kitchen and take her again in much the same fashion, feasting on every inch of her body. He would ask his mother’s chef to make them a cake so he could scrape all the icing off, decorating Effie’s naked body like an elaborate French pastry. Hell, he didn’t even care for sweets, but he desired Effie in every perverted way that had ever crossed his mind.

  As a young man traveling in the Far East he heard of many strange practices. At the time he’d been appalled, now he wracked his brain trying to remember them all.

  Going into his bathing room he stripped, filled the tub with warm water and sank into its depths with a sigh. Twenty minutes later he collapsed on his huge bed, having drained both the tub and his body. After an hour of tossing and turning, he slipped on a robe and went down to the study where he proceeded to make good use of his father’s best brandy.

  *

  Effie hummed as she dressed. Ophelia buttoned the back of a pretty peach dress before attending to Effie’s hair.

  “You are in a cheerful mood this morning, Mademoiselle,” Ophelia remarked as she brushed the tangles from the long blonde curls.

  “Oui, I am,” Effie nearly sang. Smiling into her mirror, she giggled.