‘All young ladies need training,’ he said, still staring at her intently.
Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. She could feel his eyes boring through her. ‘Well, I’m about to do some instruction,’ she managed. ‘So if you will excuse me?’
‘Actually, I think I’ll join you,’ he said. ‘You don’t have any objection, I take it?’
‘Um, no, if you wish. It will only take a minute or two.’
She walked ahead of him into the sitting room, the slim cut of her dress accentuating the sway of her shapely hips and bottom. She could feel his eyes upon her as she moved, and suddenly wished she was walking beside him, rather than in front. She quickened her pace, hurrying to get out of the uncomfortable situation, and as soon as she entered the sitting room she stood with her back to the fireplace.
Grace was standing demurely in the centre of the room, hands clasped in front of her, staring at the floor. She was obviously very uncomfortable.
‘Now, Grace,’ Elizabeth began, ‘last night it occurred to me that I wanted a bath.’
‘Yes, miss,’ Grace said, clearly unsure of what she had done wrong this time.
‘Don’t speak until I say you may, you rude girl,’ Elizabeth snapped, ‘just listen to me.’
‘Sorry, miss, I try to do things right,’ Grace blurted. ‘Honest I do.’
‘Be quiet and let me finish!’ she snapped again. ‘From now on, every night, you must draw my bath whether or not I tell you to. Can you understand that simple instruction?’
‘Yes, miss,’ the maid answered, visibly cowering, her voice tremulous.
‘Well thank goodness for that. And make sure there’s plenty of scented oil. I checked this morning and you’ve allowed my supply to dwindle. Now then, tell me what you’re to do in future, beginning with this very evening.’
‘I’m to draw your bath every night, whether or not you tell me to,’ Grace said, a small sob escaping her lips, ‘and make sure there’s plenty of oil of jasmine, or milk of roses, or scented oil of some kind, for you, miss.’
‘Excuse me.’ Lord Michael’s voice startled them both, interrupting Elizabeth’s flow. ‘Surely that’s a bit extravagant? All that water possibly going to waste, and the cost of heating it? I’m sure your father would not approve of such a wasteful habit. It’s one thing if you decide you want a bath, but to have Grace draw you one just in case, well now, Elizabeth, I do not think that’s acceptable. No, not acceptable at all.’
Elizabeth’s face began to turn red again, but this time with simmering anger. ‘Lord Michael,’ she said resolutely, ‘forgive me, but this does not concern you.’
‘Actually,’ he calmly countered, moving to the centre of the room, giving the impression of supporting Grace, ‘your father asked me to keep an eye on things here, and my eyes do not approve of what they are seeing.’
Grace’s mouth fell open; never had she seen Miss Elizabeth spoken to in such a manner.
‘Well, in that case your eyes can just look at something else, because this is how I want it, and this is how it’s going to be!’ Elizabeth spat, in complete disbelief that the man of her dreams would address her so.
‘Grace,’ said Lord Michael, ignoring Elizabeth’s outraged response, ‘I suspect you work very hard here, do you not?’
Grace realised her mouth was still open, and closed it, casting her eyes down. ‘I do my best, sir, yes,’ she replied.
‘I am sure you do,’ he said compassionately. ‘Now, I have a question for you, and when I ask you this question you must promise to answer truthfully.’
‘Yes, sir, I always tell the truth,’ she replied, daring to look up at him, a scrap of confidence returning.
‘Excuse me,’ Elizabeth interjected indignantly, ‘but if you don’t mind, this is my house! What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Noisy, isn’t she?’ said Lord Michael, winking at Grace.
Elizabeth was furious, and the way he was ignoring her, talking about her rather than to her – and to one of the staff, to boot – was making her even more furious by the second. And then to have the audacity to call her noisy!
‘I am going to whisper the question in your ear,’ he went on to the maid. ‘Is that all right, my dear?’
Grace looked up into his eyes, and saw kindness and strength there. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said quietly. ‘Of course, sir.’
Then Elizabeth watched in horror as Lord Michael leaned closer and whispered something to the maid, and Grace broke into a broad grin and then laughed out loud!
‘Oh, Lord Michael, no sir,’ the servant girl giggled. ‘Never. I think I’d die from shock.’
‘Fine, Grace,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘That’s what I thought. You may take the rest of the day off. Your mistress will not be needing you. Have a lovely time, and return to your duties promptly tomorrow morning.’
‘You’ll do no such thing!’ Elizabeth exclaimed heatedly, but Lord Michael merely took Grace gently by the arm, guiding her to the door.
‘Thank you ever so much, sir,’ she said, clearly amazed at this turn of events, clearly confident that she would be all right as long as she did as Lord Michael said.
He smiled at her kindly, and closed the door behind her.
‘How dare you?’ Elizabeth demanded, stamping her foot in fury.
‘Elizabeth,’ he said calmly, ignoring her tantrum, ‘would you like to know what I asked Grace?’
She hadn’t expected a question in response to her indignation, and it caught her off guard.
‘Elizabeth?’ he prompted, his tone insistent.
‘I couldn’t care what you asked her,’ she spat back at him. ‘You have no right to interfere with how I utilise my staff.’
‘I asked her,’ Lord Michael continued, easily, ‘if you ever said please or thank you. And you heard her response, didn’t you?’
‘She’s my servant, and I shall treat her as I please,’ she stated vehemently.
Lord Michael crossed his arms and frowned, then after a moment he clasped his hands behind his back and wandered about the room, ending up at the desk by the bay windows, overlooking the landscaped gardens.
‘What staff is here today?’ he asked, staring out at the view.
‘Excuse me?’ Elizabeth replied, genuinely perplexed by the odd question.
‘Are you deaf?’ he said sharply, making her jump slightly. ‘What staff is here today?’
‘Everybody’s off today except the cook and Smithy, the footman,’ she answered, still wondering why he would care.
‘Wasn’t that Smithy I saw, driving the cab for your father?’
‘Oh, yes it was,’ she acknowledged. ‘The usual driver has the weekend off. Only cook, then. Downstairs.
‘Excellent,’ he mused, his eyes still scanning the lovely grounds, and Elizabeth realised she was being distracted. Was that what the questions were about? Just to get her mind off his interference?
‘Now look here, Lord Michael,’ she said. ‘What’s the point of all this? I want to talk about Grace—’
‘Elizabeth, you really are a very spoiled and ill-mannered young lady, aren’t you?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ she gasped in shock. ‘Oh, you… you…’ she blustered, trying to think desperately of an appropriate response.
‘Now, the thing is, Elizabeth,’ he continued, ignoring her childish protestations, ‘I do not think it’s entirely your fault. You’ve not received the proper education for a young female of your means and bearing.’
He moved closer to the oak desk and carefully pulled out the armless desk chair. It was straight-backed with a wide, beautifully padded seat, upholstered in burgundy velvet. He placed it facing the windows.
‘Lord Michael,’ she replied, shaking with rage, ‘I have been very well educated indeed, thank you. I have even attended a finishing school in Paris. How dare you suggest such a thing? You don’t know what you’re talking about, so I would thank you to mind your own—’
‘That’s
not exactly the education I was referring to,’ he said, cutting her short, standing next to the chair. ‘Come here, young lady.’ His tone and demeanour were unwavering, not to be argued with, and she found herself almost mesmerised by them. But no, she thought determinedly, she would not do as he said.
‘I am quite happy here, thank you,’ she replied loftily, raising her chin, ‘and I wish to discuss this matter about Grace. It needs to be sorted—’
Again he prevented her from making her point. ‘It would be wise to do as I say,’ he warned ominously, and a voice in her head told her to move, but her stubbornness won out. She stood perfectly still, challenging him.
‘Oh dear,’ Lord Michael sighed. ‘Very well, if you must behave as you do, then I suppose you must. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.’
The pace with which he moved across the room shocked her, like a striking snake, but what shocked her even more was the ease with which he grabbed her by the wrists with one hand, produced a long piece of black satin from his pocket with the other, and in seconds had both her wrists crossed and bound together.
‘Lord Michael,’ she gasped, ‘what on earth do you think you’re doing?’
‘You continue to be noisy, don’t you?’ he said. ‘So I’m afraid we’re going to have to do something about that.’
Elizabeth launched into a tirade of insults and protests, which he calmly ignored whilst pulling a crisp white handkerchief from his breast pocket, and then the ascot from around his neck. ‘Now then,’ he said assertively, ‘this should shut you up.’
‘What?’ she wailed, but with deft timing the handkerchief was stuffed into her open mouth, and he spun her round and placed the longer ascot scarf across the gag and tied it behind her head, amused by her now muffled protests.
‘And although we are fairly well alone, just to make sure we are not caught unawares and interrupted by someone unexpectedly…’ he said, moving quickly to lock the door.
He turned sharply and returned to where she stood, shocked and staring at him over the gag with wide, bewildered eyes. With one arm he picked her up by the waist, lifting her easily, and carried her to the waiting chair.
‘It would have been much easier if you had just come to me when I said,’ he stated as he stood her back down, and unable to answer, Elizabeth stamped her feet, letting out a muffled screech.
‘Be quiet at once!’ he barked. ‘If you stamp those feet again I’ll tie your ankles together as well!’
Though frustrated and angry, not to mention a bit scared and bemused, Elizabeth suddenly realised Lord Michael was to be listened to. At least at this juncture, so she stood still.
‘That’s better,’ he went on, speaking in a stern but quieter voice. ‘Now then, I’m going to tell you exactly what I intend to do with you. First, until I know you won’t talk back or question me in any way, the handkerchief is going to remain in your mouth. If I take it out and you misbehave, it will go back in immediately. Nod your head if you understand me.’
Elizabeth stared at him in stunned astonishment. She made a funny sound and Lord Michael frowned. He reached down and lifted her skirt and she let out a muffled squeal and recoiled, stepping sideways. But he grabbed her arm, yanking her back.
‘Stand still!’ he commanded, his eyes penetrating hers.
Once again he lifted the skirt, holding it up with one hand. With the other he slapped the side of her stockinged thigh, hard, making her squeal through the gag and wince.
‘I asked you a simple question,’ he continued. ‘When I ask you a question, simple or otherwise, you will answer me immediately. If you do not you will be punished. Now, do you understand what I said about the handkerchief? Nod if you understand. Shake your head if you do not.’
Once again his tone was controlled, calm, not angry at all, and she nodded her head furiously, her slightly dishevelled locks spilling around her face.
‘Good,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘Now, I am going to sit on that chair. Look at it, Elizabeth. Look at the chair.’
She didn’t really understand why he wanted to her stare at the desk chair, but she did as he ordered, the sting in her thigh suggesting strongly that she obey.
‘As I said, I am going to sit on that chair, and then lay you across my lap, face down. I’m going to lift your dress above your waist, and your petticoat as well. Then I am going to pull your drawers down, exposing your bare bottom.’
Elizabeth felt her face turn scarlet and her eyes grew wider still.
‘And do you know what I’m going to do then, Elizabeth?’ he asked mildly, and she shook her head from side to side, terrified of what he was about to say. ‘Well, then I’m going to spank you, Elizabeth, with the lovely gardens as a delightful backdrop. And when my hand gets tired, my dear, do you know what I’ll do then?’
Elizabeth gasped through the gag in apprehensive disbelief.
‘I asked you a question, Elizabeth,’ he said firmly. ‘Answer me. Do you know what I’ll do when my hand is tired?’
Utterly befuddled and overcome, Elizabeth shook her head again.
‘I will take off one of my shoes, and spank you with the sole of that. I think, for the first lesson of the day, that should do very nicely. Now then, young lady, your true education is about to begin.’
Chapter 3
Try as she might Elizabeth was no match for Lord Michael, and within seconds of his lecture she was indeed stretched across his lap. He balanced her perfectly, her feet and hands just touching the floor, and held her securely by the waist waiting for her endearing struggles to cease. He knew she would tire quickly, a few minutes passed, and then her wriggles began to subside.
‘Really, Elizabeth,’ he scolded, ‘that was quite a demonstration, and for that you must also be punished. From now on, when you require discipline you will lift your own skirt and petticoat, lower your own panties, then place yourself across my lap for your spanking.’
She couldn’t imagine such a thing, and she never intended being in such a situation ever again!
He reached down and slowly lifted the hem of her dress. As it passed over her thighs she cringed, mortified at the pending exposure. Slowly he pulled on the fabric, sliding it over her hips, causing her to release a muffled squeal. When he had trailed it up past her waist he folded the material under itself, so it would not slip back down.
Lord Michael stared at the rounded contours nestled beneath the satin petticoat. He placed his hand on the smooth fabric, letting it rest there, and Elizabeth felt her face burn.
‘Feel this hand?’ he said. ‘Think about it, Elizabeth. In just a minute I will be laying it upon your bare bottom with stinging smacks. And whilst I’m doing so I want you to think about why I am spanking you. Do you understand?’
The feel of his hand on her virgin cheek, even though it was through fabric, dominated Elizabeth’s thoughts, and it was all she could focus on. Then the warmth of his hand was gone.
He smacked her hard on the back of her thigh, saving her bottom until it was naked. Her head jerked up and she let out a muffled wail.
‘I asked you a question, you rude girl,’ he said sternly. ‘Answer me!’
She tried to remember what the question was, but she couldn’t. All she could think about was the sharp stinging in her thigh, and the heat of the embarrassment surging through her.
‘Elizabeth,’ said Lord Michael, sensing her confusion, placing his hand back upon her tingling buttock, ‘you must pay strict attention. When I speak, regardless of the circumstances, you must be listening intently. Do you understand?’ He trailed his hand to the bright pink spot on her thigh and her head bobbed up and down. ‘Good. You are to think about why you are being spanked. Do you understand?’ He squeezed the area of the slap and felt her wince. She vigorously bobbed her head again. ‘Very well, then we shall continue.’
Elizabeth felt her petticoat being drawn up, and was mortified that at any moment she would be laying with just a single layer of fine silk covering her nakedness. Oh, wh
at had she done to him to deserve such mortifying treatment? Why was he being such a brutish beast?
She felt his fingers play with the tie around the top of her most private of undergarments, and thought she would die of humiliation. Using both hands he undid the bow, then let his fingernails lightly scrape the fine skin of her cheeks as he slowly pulled the panties down. She gasped in horror, her face burning with embarrassment.
Soon the flimsy silk underwear was dangling unevenly from her thighs, just above her knees. Lord Michael smiled; her clothing was in disarray, but she looked exquisitely attractive nonetheless. He feasted his eyes upon her splendid derrière. So delicious was it, it just begged to be spanked, so white and virginal. He caressed the skin with his hands, pinching lightly, watching the blood come and go. It would please him indeed to witness the white flesh turning crimson under his discipline. The rudeness with which she treated those unfortunate enough to have been born below her station was cause for discipline alone. Not to mention her lofty airs and graces. Oh, she was going to be spanked for certain, as she should have been many times before.
Though horrified at her forced nakedness, Elizabeth was being strangely calmed by the soft caresses of his hand upon her smooth skin. She also felt a peculiar excitement moving through her nether regions, and began to breathe a little easier. Perhaps it had all been a big bluff…
But to her astonishment and dismay his hand suddenly swept down, twice, landing with fire. She kicked out, the hot sting sparking through her like an electric shock. He had spanked her on each cheek with significant force, and her involuntary scream sounded odd through the gag. She waited, breathing heavily through flared nostrils, tense.
‘Those were just the first two of many, Elizabeth,’ Lord Michael said severely. ‘You’d better relax your body or you’ll be totally exhausted when we’re done, and you have a long day ahead of you. I won’t allow you to slack off for one minute either, young lady. Now calm your breathing.’
Attempting to do as he said she took several deep breaths, in an attempt to compose herself as much as the circumstances would allow. His hand landed again and she gasped, and then his open palm continued to rise and fall on her tender flesh.
Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust) Page 2