Abigail looked up at the tall earl, feeling completely drained. Yet the pulsing hunger of her cunny had never stopped. It was stronger and more demanding, if nothing else. Feeling as if she could hardly stand, Abigail pulled herself up once more before plunging hard onto the thick leather shaft. She couldn’t help but utter a loud moan. So needy had she become, all sense of shame had left her. Again she rode the dildo and again she moaned.
This time with no cruel order to stop, Abigail rode to her pussy’s content, plunging the dildo into herself hard and deep. The rising wave of pleasure soon began to overtake her. It was close. It was near. With one final satisfying plunge, Abigail sat upon the dildo, crying out in guttural pleasure as her body exploded in a burst of ecstasy. She shuddered and shook as ripples of pleasure coursed down her body in an orgasmic aftershock. She put her head down on the desk, unable to support herself after such a consuming orgasm.
Lord Brynwood’s eyes darkened in pleasure.
“What a good girl,” he murmured.
Two
Abigail watched the sun fade across the rolling green lawns of Brynwood Manor. She had just a few weeks, a handful of days, to find a way to leave Lord Brynwood and his reach for good. She remembered Pinzer’s promise.
“I will let it be known that he is sheltering a whore, a common doxy. I will let it be known he has adopted a thief, a criminal. A man of his rank does business solely on reputation alone. And how will he do, do you think, when he is known to be the harborer of ill moral and crime?”
She shuddered, recalling his long face and slimy voice.
“Find a way to come back to me with enough money to make it worth my time not to ruin your goodly prince there. Then,” he said smiling, “I shall be merciful and take you back into my good graces and allow the good prince to carry on with his reputable life.”
Abigail shook her head. She refused to let the man who had not only healed her but had also educated her and awakened her to her body’s deepest needs be harmed.
But it seemed as if with every passing day, matters were becoming more and more complicated. She needed to find a way to return to Pinzer to prevent Lord Brynwood’s ruin while ensuring that the earl would not come after her. His coming after her would only negate everything she was sacrificing for him.
This was already a difficult situation to figure out but now there was the added obstacle of Colette Livingston, Lord Brynwood’s intended. “I suspect she’ll be arriving within the week,” Lord Brynwood had informed her at dinner last night. “She was most eager to arrive home and meet you.”
Colette Livingston. Abigail never had many female friends growing up as an orphan but even with her limited experienced, Abigail judged Colette to be the most peculiar female in all the world. Every night, Abigail would relive each intimate moment she had had with the earl. She would shudder as she thought about his thick fingers stroking her privates, his large hand spanking her bottom, or the large leather dildo as it plunged deeply into her while he watched. According to Lord Brynwood, Colette was fully apprised of Abigail and her journey into the manor. But how could that be? Does that mean Colette was aware of the intimacy that had grown between Lord Brynwood and herself? Surely if the woman knew, she would not be so cavalier and calm about it.
Perhaps that was why Colette was in such a hurry to return home from Paris. Perhaps she wanted to face the wench who had dared to lay claim on her man. Although it gave her a sinking sensation of despair and grief, Abigail wondered if perhaps Colette was the answer to her dilemma. If Colette forced her out and kept Lord Brynwood to herself, she could return to Pinzer and leave Brynwood Manor behind as a mere blip in her memories.
So distracted with worry had Abigail become that she lacked the energy or focus to misbehave. She knew it had been a weak strategy to begin with but she had been desperate.
Regardless Mr. Oglethorpe and the earl were pleased with her recent docility. Abigail had asked hesitantly if perhaps that meant that the dildo desk could be removed. But Lord Brynwood shook his head. “It will not do for you to slip back into your old ill mannered ways. I want you to be presentable for Colette, not some little hellion. We will keep the desk so that you will remember your place.”
Lord Brynwood had also been good on his word about readdressing Abigail’s wardrobe. A whole new set of dresses had been ordered where the skirt and bodice were separate pieces. Now when Abigail entered the classroom, she immediately had to remove her drawers and undo her skirt, folding these items beneath her chair. Then, completely nude from the waist down save for her stockings, she would slowly lower herself onto the training dildo. No matter how often she performed this ritual, Abigail never felt a lessening in the stinging shame that accompanied each plunge of the thick leather shaft.
Abigail thought about the training dildo. Lord Brynwood had become more physical with Abigail since becoming her legal guardian. True to his word, things had certainly begun to change. One night after dinner, Lord Brynwood had the training dildo mounted onto a low step stool. Abigail was quickly ordered to remove her skirt and lower herself onto the thick shaft. Moaning from shame, Abigail nervously undid her skirt and pulled down her drawers. Without making eye contact, she squatted over the dildo and slowly sat down, letting the leather member plunge into her. She noticed that with every session with the training dildo, the faster her cunny became wet.
“Now show me how much you have improved upon your training dildo,” the earl murmured huskily as he stood in front of her, his eyes darkened from lust. Feeling the heat of shame and arousal course through her body, Abigail slowly began riding the phallus, each deep plunge sparking a new fire of pure lust within her. She moaned aloud, unable to keep in the intense sensation within her.
Lord Brynwood ran a rough thumb across her lower lip. Abigail paused in her ride, instead slowing to just a grind as she felt the tingle of having the earl touch her. A thick finger plunged into her mouth. Abigail instinctively closed her lips around the invasive intruder. Lord Brynwood made a murmur of approval. “Good, good. What a good girl.”
He shoved in another finger and then quickly added one more. Each finger being so thick, all three made Abigail’s jaw ache as she opened wide to accommodate them. “Now suck and ride, little one,” he ordered. And driven to the brink of want, Abigail did as she was told. She rode hard against the dildo as she sucked the earl’s thick plunging fingers.
Lord Brynwood’s hand pushed deeper down her throat, making her gag a bit as she tried to keep her lips tight around his fingers. She moaned against his hand as she felt herself peaking. Lord Brynwood quickly grabbed a nipple through her bodice front and pinched hard. Abigail’s screams of ecstasy were muffled against the still plunging fingers. She felt as if with each orgasm, she could never come any harder than what she had just experienced. And yet, each time Lord Brynwood put her through her paces, she found herself coming harder than she ever thought possible.
As she sat panting on the stool, Lord Brynwood gently brushed back her sweat dampened locks. “I look forward to taking you soon, little one,” he murmured, his eyes still dark with passion. Abigail felt her pulse race as she thought about the earl’s own thick shaft within her. “But I will wait until Colette is home. And it won’t be long now.”
Abigail felt confused and unsure, as usual, upon hearing Colette’s name. But so exhausted from her ride, all she could do was close her eyes and enjoy the gentle strokings of the earl.
Three
“Are you sure this is what Lord Brynwood wanted me to wear?” Abigail asked for a third time as the maid finished buttoning her dress. It was the most juvenile dress out of all her clothes. A light pink, the bodice had a high waist with childish cotton lace trimming the sides. The skirts were short and rode just above her stockinged knees. The maid had arranged her free flowing mahogany curls down her back with a white bow. Dressed so, Abigail looked in the mirror to find herself resembling a young daughter of a very well-to-do man.
“Yes, miss. His lo
rdship was quite adamant that you be dressed in this gown for Miss Livingston’s arrival,” the maid said as she tied on Abigail’s white pinafore, completing her childish ensemble.
Finally, the day had arrived. Colette Livingston would be arriving today. Word had been sent two days ago that she had reached an inn not too far away and would be arriving at the manor within an evening or two.
Abigail had no understanding as to how she should prepare for Colette’s arrival. She couldn’t understand how a fiancée of a man as wealthy and respected as Lord Brynwood could be comfortable in knowing that he had intimate knowledge of another woman’s body. Abigail sighed as she looked back at her childish reflection. Not quite precisely a woman perhaps but still intimate knowledge nonetheless.
From outside, she heard the distant calls of the grooms and the muffled sounds of horse hooves. Abigail felt her heart race as she realized that, ready or not, Colette Livingston had arrived at Brynwood Manor.
Abigail finished dressing and clambered down the stairs just as Lord Brynwood was escorting in his intended. Standing on the last step, Abigail stood in awe of the woman. Tall and beautiful, Colette Livingston exuded an air of regal elegance. Nearly as tall as Lord Brynwood, Colette wore her long black hair in a chic chignon which only emphasized her porcelain skin and classically sculpted features. She was clad in a beautifully rich gown of burgundy red that flattered her slim figure and her flawless complexion. Never had Abigail seen such a woman as Colette Livingston before.
The beautiful face broke into a serene smile as her dark blue eyes glittered in pleasure. “Ah, so this must be our infamous little Abigail,” she said, her voice smooth and sweet as dark honey. Abigail gaped, feeling incredibly gauche and common. Even standing on the step, Abigail had to crane her neck to look up at the beautiful goddess.
Lord Brynwood’s eyes narrowed. “We have worked hard to improve your manners, little one. Show Colette what you have learned,” he reprimanded sharply.
Abigail’s attention snapped into focus. Feeling incredibly foolish in her childish outfit, she nervously curtsied. The smile never left Colette’s face. “Oh how darling,” she cooed watching Abigail rise from her bow. Her eyes, dark as the midnight sky, searchingly probed Abigail’s face. “I can see why my dear Jeremiah has become so taken with you, my little poppet. And from his letters recounting your adventures under his care, I too have become just as attached. I hope now that I am here we will soon become as close as I have imagined us to be all these many weeks.”
Every word rang with sincerity. Abigail hardly knew how to respond and could only give a wobbly nod in reply. Whatever reaction she had been expecting from Colette Livingston, it certainly had not been this. Colette seemed to be aware of Abigail’s surprise and confusion, which only seemed to make her smile deepen.
“Jeremiah, let me change and prepare myself before dinner. I want to truly get to know Abigail tonight,” Colette said as she took Lord Brynwood’s arm and was lead up towards her own suite of rooms, leaving Abigail standing in her magnificent wake.
At dinner that evening, Colette did exactly as she said she would. She asked about every detail of Abigail’s life since entering Brynwood Manor. But each question was asked with only the truest voice of sincerity and care. She seemed eager to know that Abigail was truly adjusting to life at the manor as Lord Brynwood’s ward.
When Lord Brynwood described Abigail’s recent revival of tantrums, Abigail blushed under Colette’s disapproving eye. “Abigail, you will soon learn that the one thing above all else I detest most is an ill behaved little girl,” she said. Abigail had a sudden urge to shout that she wasn’t a little girl but a full-grown woman of eighteen! But she was still wearing her short pink dress and white pinafore. She looked no more a woman than Colette did a child. “I will hope to see your manners only improve with my presence now here.”
“Well, darling, she has improved a bit since we altered her disciplining,” Lord Brynwood said, sipping his wine.
“Oh?” Colette said, her delicate black brow rising in question as she speared a mushroom with her fork.
“Yes, I had commissioned a training dildo to be used during her lessons. So far I have seen much improvement since it’s implementation,” Lord Brynwood said calmly.
Abigail could have choked on her food in shame and embarrassment. How could the earl so casually mention such a private and, frankly, vulgar topic in front of this gloriously elegant woman? And if there had been any hopes of Colette’s blindness as to the nature of Abigail’s relationship with the earl, they were now all destroyed by Lord Brynwood’s frank admission.
But Colette only nodded as she gracefully sliced a piece of wild turkey. “Very good. I am glad to hear of it,” she said feelingly, flooring Abigail once more with her reaction. “In opera houses and theaters, young girls who debut will soon learn the folly of ill manners, no matter how sweet their voices are. I personally take it upon myself to teach these young girls the proper etiquette for novice singers. And I expect no less from you, little poppet.”
Abigail could only nod in stunned shock as she watched Lord Brynwood smile lovingly at his beautiful fiancée. Colette’s dark eyes sparkled as she gazed warmly over the edge of her wine glass, her look blatant with love and contentment. Obviously neither were put out by her arrival or presence. On the contrary, they seemed quite pleased to have her under their care. Abigail wondered if confusion would be a permanent element of her life in the manor.
But permanence was something that Abigail could truly not allow for herself at Brynwood Manor. Every day, she remembered the haunting voice of Pinzer echoing in the back of her mind. And having seen now the warmth and true adoration that existed between Lord Brynwood and Colette, Abigail refused to let it be destroyed by her past. Although she had never enjoyed any spanking and shame still poured through her every time she stripped nude in front of the earl or her tutor, she had learned so much and gained so much during her time at Brynwood Manor. She refused to pay back Lord Brynwood’s generous deeds with his complete ruination.
Although having Colette now in the manor did make Abigail a little more self-conscious about her behavior, she buckled her courage and forcibly reminded herself of the consequences if she let herself weaken. With no other strategies or plans, Abigail decided to try again the next day in playing the incorrigible brat. Perhaps with Colette present, Lord Brynwood would feel enough frustration and shame at her lack of progress to turn her out. She only hoped she’d have enough time on her way out to swipe something of enough value to appease Pinzer.
When morning came, Abigail bolstered her flagging courage. Although it wasn’t much of a plan (since every day of ill behavior thus far had brought her nothing but a sore bum), it might perhaps sow the seeds of discontent within the happy couple in regards to her presence in the manor. Colette sounded sincere in her concern for Abigail but once she hears of her insolence and disobedience, perhaps she’d rethink her affections.
Entering the parlor that doubled as her classroom during the day, Abigail strode in with a glint of determination in her eye. Mr. Oglethorpe, who had spent enough time with his recalcitrant student to recognize trouble when he saw it, immediately narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Remove your skirt and position yourself over your seat,” he said authoritatively, pointing at the leather dildo that stood erect on her chair.
Abigail took a deep breath before knocking over both her chair and desk. Mr. Oglethorpe’s eye bulged at her rebellion. “Wh-what do you think you are doing, you little hellion?” he sputtered in anger.
Abigail grabbed her newest slate and threw it hard against the wall, watching it crack into several pieces. “I am a grown woman and I refuse to be treated like some child in your perverse games!” Abigail cried loudly to cover her shaking voice. It was an odd feeling to throw down her desk and chair. She never looked forward to riding the leather dildo yet she couldn’t deny the obvious pleasure it always gave her.
“Young lady, if yo
u do not compose yourself, I will strip your hide raw! Now pick up your desk!” Mr. Oglethorpe ordered, his face red and his jowls quivering.
“No!” Abigail cried kicking a defenseless book towards the tutor. Thinking about the times Mr. Oglethorpe did tan her hide, Abigail began to feel a queer pleasure in suddenly causing a racket in his classroom. He had always been so strict with her and she still had yet to grow used to sitting in a seat for hours at a time. And she had seen how much he had enjoyed her humiliation when Lord Brynwood had introduced the training dildo.
“I won’t compose myself! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!” Abigail chanted as she kicked any nearby book and stomped on any loose pages. Mr. Oglethorpe grew purple in the face as he watched her unbridled barbaric behavior.
From outside the slightly open door, Colette Livingston watched as Lord Brynwood’s charge ran amok in the parlor. She watched with deep disapproval as Abigail kicked books and tossed slates. Colette had meant what she had said at dinner: she truly detested ill-mannered girls. A young girl’s purest virtue was her sweetness in disposition. And she could see that this girl was doing everything she could to deny her nature.
Colette turned and stopped a passing maid. “I will need a few things from the housekeeper, if you will, Ellie. And once you have collected those items, please bring them into Lord Brynwood’s study as well as Abigail once she has finished her...” Colette turned and watched as Abigail kicked at her desk “...lessons.”
The maid nodded and hurried away to fetch the requested items. Colette turned from the parlor and headed towards Lord Brynwood’s study. Abigail would need to learn to heed the commands of her guardian. Both of her guardians.
Four
Abigail tentatively opened the door to Lord Brynwood’s study. A maid had told her that her presence had been requested by Miss Livingston as soon as her lessons had been completed for the day. This would be the first time she would be alone with Colette. She wondered what the reasoning was for such a meeting.
Disciplining The Thief - Complete Series (Historical Victorian Forbidden First Time Steamy Romance) Page 6