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Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust)

Page 12

by Carpenter, Maggie


  Chadwick feasted his eyes as Lord Michael placed a chair at the foot of the bed, but to one side. It would give him the best possible view. He gestured for his guest to sit down, and quietly the elderly man did so, looking almost dizzy from the vision of the voluptuous submissive lying before him.

  ‘Hello, Elizabeth,’ Lord Michael said, looming over her vulnerable form. ‘Have you had enough time to think about how best you can please me?’

  The unseeing girl moved her head in the direction of the voice, and hesitated a moment, running the unexpected question through her mind. ‘To obey you, sir, in all things,’ she eventually whispered.

  He nodded with satisfaction. ‘Very good, my dear, but you haven’t exactly done that today, have you?’

  She gulped, her lips glistening moistly in the firelight. ‘No, sir, I suppose I haven’t.’

  ‘I know how much you want to enjoy an orgasm,’ he said bluntly, ‘and I know if I do this…’ Lord Michael moved his hand between Elizabeth’s legs, teasing her, and Chadwick heard her longing sighs, but she did not ask for release. It was clear she knew she would only have her moment when her tormentor decided. He nodded approvingly.

  ‘I know I spanked you earlier today, but that was just an appetiser,’ the standing man went on. ‘Now you will be properly punished for not obeying me as you should have.’

  Elizabeth groaned, aching to rub her thighs together, and wondered exactly what that punishment would involve.

  ‘Up and over on all fours, Elizabeth, and move down the bed a little.’ She struggled up on her hands and knees and edged backwards as Lord Michael took up his position, the long crop at the ready, and as she reached the foot of the bed he ordered her to stop.

  He caressed her bottom with his free hand. The touch made her sigh, then he drew his hand back and the sound of a loud smack resounded about the room. Elizabeth yelped, his hand rose and fell again, and again she yelped.

  Chadwick leaned forward a little and peered at the perfect red smudge of a handprint adorning her lovely bottom. Lord Michael glanced at him, and knew the old man was thoroughly enjoying himself. ‘Are you ready for the next stage of your punishment, Elizabeth?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Elizabeth replied fearfully, wondering what would follow.

  Lord Michael gripped the crop even tighter. ‘Now then,’ he said, his voice firm, ‘is there a reason why you continue to lapse into disobedience, despite my time and efforts to eradicate such waywardness? Is there something wrong with your hearing, perhaps?’

  ‘N-no, sir,’ she stammered. ‘There is nothing wrong with my hearing. Sometimes I just… I just think too much.’

  ‘From now on, Elizabeth, you will obey first,’ he insisted, ‘and if you must think, you will do so secondly. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said meekly. ‘Obey first, think second.’

  ‘Good girl. Now, I have something here that will help impress that lesson upon you in no uncertain terms. The sting you will feel is not one you’ve experienced before.’

  ‘I’ll be good, I promise,’ Elizabeth murmured, feeling goose bumps crawl across her bare flesh.

  ‘Yes, you will,’ Lord Michael said sternly. ‘Now be quiet and take your punishment.’

  Stepping back, he traced the knotted leather tips of the crop across Elizabeth’s bottom. He glanced at Chadwick, who gazed intently at the placement of the stinging ends, then nodded. Taking his cue, Lord Michael began flicking his wrist, making the switch whistle in the air, swishing it back and forth. It accelerated rapidly and Elizabeth started crying out, wriggling her bottom as the crop worked its magic. He watched as her bottom began turning a gratifying scarlet, and he did not have to whip her for very long for it was, as Chadwick had claimed, a very effective instrument indeed.

  Interrupting the beating for a moment, Lord Michael moved closer and ran his fingers over Elizabeth’s red and welted flesh.

  ‘Oh, that stings so much!’ she cried, the two men exchanging a knowing glance. ‘I’ll be so good, sir. I’ll be totally obedient, I promise.’

  ‘That is the general idea,’ Lord Michael mused. ‘Your obedience, or you suffer the subsequent punishment. I think that’s easy to comprehend.’

  ‘Yes, sir, my obedience at all times,’ she cried again.

  Her crimson flesh was indeed very hot, and he waited a moment then slipped a finger inside her. She groaned and he continued to tease her, bringing her to the edge, all the while stroking her scalded bottom.

  He looked over at his elderly companion, and offered him the whip. Chadwick raised his eyebrows in surprise and delight, and standing, took the exquisite instrument. Lord Michael stood to the side, giving the elderly man plenty of room.

  Chadwick stepped forward and ran the tips of his fingers across Elizabeth’s tensed buttocks, eliciting a delicious hiss of breath from her parted lips.

  ‘One more session with this marvellous instrument of discipline, and in future you will be obedient, won’t you, Elizabeth?’ Lord Michael said sternly, watching his cohort enjoy Elizabeth’s charms.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she whimpered, unsuspecting, tensing her bottom.

  ‘No matter what the circumstances?’

  ‘Yes sir, just obedience.’

  The stinging of the whip had eased somewhat but her skin was still on fire, and as Chadwick adjusted his position slightly, laying the dangling leather strands against her buttocks, Elizabeth gripped the bedcover tightly in readiness.

  He began to flick the ends back and forth, very lightly and slowly. Elizabeth squirmed. The slower action caused a sting and an itch at the same time. She was shifting her cheeks in a most lascivious manner, almost as if inviting his discipline. He increased the speed of the tormenting whip, and splicing it through the air with a degree of skill borne from hours of use, he brought it across her posterior in all manner of artful angles.

  The man’s talent impressed Lord Michael. The knotted tips could not be seen for the alacrity with which they moved, and the whip was horizontal one second then vertical the next. Elizabeth was squealing and writhing, but the hissing whip ignored her cries and continued its merry dance across her raised hindquarters.

  Then gradually Chadwick slowed the punishment, making it tickle rather than sting, and moving closer still, slipped it between Elizabeth’s pussy lips. She gasped and writhed desperately, her wails of pain becoming desperate pleas for release as he slid the crop deeper into her.

  Elizabeth could hardly bear it. Her bottom felt like a thousand bee stings, and her pent up orgasm filled her with frustration. She pushed back, trying to make the teasing more substantial, but it made no difference. She moaned into the mattress, desperate for relief.

  Clearly pleased with the girl’s responses, the old man withdrew the crafted implement and handed it back to Lord Michael.

  ‘Have I made my point?’ he asked, replacing Chadwick and teasing her glistening wet sex lips with his crafty fingertips.

  ‘Yes, definitely sir,’ she gasped. ‘Most definitely.’

  ‘Good.’ He slid his fingers into her, frigging her for a moment and coaxing her clit. She moved against him, her body aching for attention and release.

  Chadwick returned to the chair. It had been several years since he’d had the pleasure of whipping such a fine young bottom, and he’d enjoyed it immensely. The feel of the strict rod as it danced its discipline upon her wriggling behind was tremendously fulfilling, and so with an erection the likes of which he’d not managed in recent memory, he was happily watching the gorgeous girl being teased. She was on fire, her body betraying its dark desires.

  Lord Michael, satisfied with her desperate sighs, ordered her to move forward a little. He then stripped quickly, and as he climbed behind her, cock in hand, he noticed Chadwick extricating his own stiff penis from his trousers.

  He smiled knowingly, and then holding Elizabeth’s hips he placed his bloated tip at her glistening wet entrance, sank into her hot tunnel, and began to fuck her avidly. He m
oved his taunting thumb to her rear entrance and she mumbled incoherently, pressing back against his hand and onto his cock. She’d been held at bay for so long she was quickly at the brink, but Lord Michael was not yet ready.

  He fucked her powerfully, watching her beaten red cheeks squirm before him, pushing back, asking for more, and every now and then he’d reach down to tickle her clit, keeping her on the very edge.

  ‘Do you recall lying here, waiting for me, Elizabeth?’ he asked through clenched teeth, ploughing into her, feeling his moment building. ‘Do you recall aching for my erect cock inside you?’

  ‘Yes… yes sir,’ she gasped deliriously. ‘I was desperate for you, aching for your erect cock inside me.’

  ‘And now?’ he coaxed. ‘What are you craving now, Elizabeth?’

  ‘To come, sir,’ she sighed, then quickly added, ‘but only if it pleases you, sir, if you think I deserve it.’

  ‘That’s what I like to hear, my dear,’ he grunted, beads of sweat forming on his brow and at his temples. ‘And so in that case…’

  He thrust deeply home, accelerating his increasingly ragged movements, and then told her that she could come as she chose. She rode the wave, felt it rising inside, and moments later it crashed over her, leaving her panting and spent. She lay still as he continued to thrust, feeling her cunt tight around him, and suddenly he erupted, groaning loudly as he let himself go.

  He rested a moment, and then let himself slip out of her wondrous confines. He looked over at Chadwick. The man was red-faced, breathing heavily, his shrivelled penis still in his hand, the cream from his orgasm seeping over his inert fingers and soaking into the handkerchief he’d spread over his lap to protect his suit.

  ‘My dear fellow, what a splendid instrument,’ Lord Michael gratefully praised his accomplice, a little time later as he showed him to the front door. ‘Thank you, sir, for sharing it with me.’

  ‘Lord Michael, the thanks are all to you,’ Chadwick said enthusiastically. ‘I’ve not had an evening like this in many years. I shall have one of these made for you,’ he added as he carefully returned his crop to his case.

  ‘That’s most generous,’ Lord Michael said gratefully. ‘I shall be in touch upon my return to London.’

  ‘I’ll be looking forward to it,’ Chadwick replied, and then thanking him again, shook his hand and left.

  Lord Michael locked the front door and started back up the stairs. The chance meeting with the old master had proved to be far more satisfying than he could have hoped for, and he had no doubt the elderly gentleman could prove to be a veritable fountain of corporal punishment knowledge in the future.

  He entered the bedroom, quickly got undressed again and climbed into bed. Embracing the weary Elizabeth he removed her blindfold, and she curled up, snuggling against him.

  ‘How’s your bottom, my dear?’ he asked comfortingly.

  ‘Stinging, sir,’ she whispered ruefully. ‘Really stinging.’

  ‘Your obedience or a punishment, yes?’

  ‘Yes sir, I understand. I’ll be so good you won’t have any cause for complaint. None whatsoever, I promise.’

  He smiled to himself. Though she meant every word, he knew it would not be long before her bottom would once again be subjected to his discipline.

  On the last morning of their brief break Lord Michael was the first to stir. He gazed at Elizabeth, admiring her beautiful face and tousled hair. She had woken something in him for which he’d long been searching. Every challenge he presented her with she not only undertook, but also embraced. He was extremely pleased with her. He glanced at the clock. It was already past eight and time to rise.

  He kissed Elizabeth’s forehead, whispered it was time to wake up and rise, then got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He started a bath for her, took care of his own needs, and then returned to the bedroom where she was still under the covers.

  ‘Come along, my dear,’ he told her. ‘You have some work to do before we head back to the station. Meet me downstairs.’

  She sighed and yawned prettily, but then smiled up at him and did as she was told. Finding the bath ready she bathed, then dressed quickly and made her way downstairs. She found him in the dining room, the remains of his breakfast on the table before him.

  ‘Mrs O’Grady has the day off, dear girl,’ he stated. ‘I therefore want you to clean up the table and stack the dishes in the scullery.’

  Elizabeth eyed the dirty plates and cutlery, but his training stood her in good stead, especially her recent whipping, and she immediately found her way to the kitchen. He strolled in behind her and put the kettle on to boil, so as to make them some tea.

  She set about her chores quietly and diligently, scraping any scraps into old newspapers she found, and then folding them into a neat package. The food she felt could still be eaten she covered with clean brown paper and placed it in the pantry.

  With the dining room table cleared she washed the crockery and cutlery and stacked them in the sink. Lastly, she found a clean cloth and gave the table a good wipe over.

  Lord Michael watched with a sense of triumph. Not once did she complain, or whine, or suggest that she was too good for such menial work, and when she was finished he passed her the cup of tea he had actually made for them, the gesture of great significance to her because gentlemen of his standing simply did not do such things. She was proud of herself and the job she’d done, but even more so when it was obvious that he was happy with her too.

  In the sitting room, drinking their tea together, her bottom still glowing from the nights before, she felt enormously content.

  It wasn’t long before it was time to leave, and Lord Michael walked her back upstairs to gather their things. He reminded her to check that she’d not forgotten anything, and instructed her to make the bed. This too she did obediently as he packed his own bag.

  And so it was she found herself in a carriage heading back to the train station, and she felt a little sad, for after such a short stay they were already headed home again.

  And it was an even more dejected Elizabeth who stepped elegantly down from the carriage outside her home, for she could see her father’s carriage in the yard. He was back, and that meant Lord Michael would soon be leaving them. How would she ever be able to stand it without him?

  The man of her thoughts took her arm and guided her up the steps to the house. He talked to her in low tones, telling her he expected her to behave in a polite and gracious manner. She was to be respectful to her father, polite to her brother, and considerate to the servants. Her stomach knotted and her face flushed, as the familiar warmth spread between her legs, and she wished he were taking her up to her room to do all manner of unspeakably wonderful things to her.

  She let out a deep sigh, and when her father met them in the hallway she bobbed, said hello respectfully, and told him how much she had missed him. Her brother, coming down the stairs, raised his eyebrows in surprise at her gracious manner.

  The four of them enjoyed an agreeable lunch and Elizabeth remained on her best behaviour throughout, but all the while she could not stop thinking that Lord Michael would soon be leaving them, and it wasn’t an easy task to remain cheerful.

  After lunch the men disappeared into the drawing room, and Elizabeth took herself to her room, pondering what she might do to ease her feelings of despondency.

  She sat at her dresser, running a brush through her hair. The very same brush he had spanked her with when she recovered from her heavy cold. How she wished she were over his knee at that very moment, her buttocks turning cherry-red under the smarting smacks of his hand.

  She was embarrassed that this was what she yearned for, but alone with her thoughts there was no reason to be coy or untruthful. She didn’t know why she ached for his discipline, but she just did.

  Sighing, she laid the hairbrush down and flopped on her bed. No doubt he would be off to London in the morning, and she was very deflated by that prospect indeed.

  A knock on her
door made her jump, and thinking it was Grace she called for her to enter. But it was not the maid it was Lord Michael. She caught her breath, and was about to rush to him when he held up a warning hand. The house was full again, and such behaviour was no longer permitted.

  ‘Since you’ve been such a good girl,’ he said, entering the room but leaving the door ajar, ‘I’ve convinced your father to allow you to join me for dinner in London, tomorrow evening.’

  Elizabeth stood up excitedly. ‘Oh sir, how wonderful!’ she squealed in delight. ‘Thank you, sir, so much!’

  ‘Now, now, settle down,’ he warned. ‘Ladylike behaviour at all times, if you please.’

  She took a deep breath and attempted to control her glee.

  ‘We’ll have a very pleasant time together, I’m sure,’ he went on. ‘Now pay attention.’

  She thought about letting out another squeal of delight, just to ensure a spanking took place during the following evening.

  ‘Your father was very impressed with your countenance at lunch, and believes my company is doing you the world of good.’

  ‘Oh, sir, if only he knew,’ she giggled mischievously.

  ‘Elizabeth!’ he barked, and immediately she settled herself down.

  ‘Now, as I was about to say, I’ll be leaving shortly but you will be permitted to take your father’s carriage into London, then spend the night at my house under my charge.’

  This was wonderful news indeed. Spending the night at his residence. Could it possibly get any better?

  ‘I think you should thank your father now for his generous gesture of trust and goodwill.’

  ‘Yes, sir, of course,’ she replied, and skipped past him as he ushered her out the door. ‘I shall do so immediately.’

  When Lord Michael left that afternoon, Elizabeth was so thrilled at the prospect of the following evening every ounce of her earlier depression had evaporated. She would spend the rest of the day deciding which clothes to wear and what to pack, and have Grace play with her hair until a style worthy of the occasion could be decided upon.

 

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