Lord Brynwood’s jacket brushed across Abigail’s head as he moved behind her. A large ottoman was shoved underneath her so that she was lying on her stomach with her hips hanging off the edge. Abigail earnestly kept her lips against Colette’s pussy, feeling as if she couldn’t part from her lovely juices for even a moment. She felt him kneel behind her and grab her hips. “Remember, little one,” his voice echoed from behind, “this is punishment. This is to give you a taste of the frustration we fill with your constant rebellion.” Abigail heard the rustling of his trousers and then the press of hard manhood against her bottom. “There will be no relief for you tonight.”
And with that, he thrust his thick cock fully into her tight cunny. Abigail screamed against Colette’s wet pussy as she felt her body shudder in pleasure and acceptance. Even with all the dildo training, her pussy had not been stretched enough for Lord Brynwood’s cock. It was massive and stretched her beyond her limits. Although the initial pain of invasion was still humming through her core, it was quickly dissipating into plumes of pleasure.
In all the time they had been alone, Lord Brynwood had never taken Abigail with his own cock. And now the first time he finally claimed her, it was in front of his own fiancée. The knowledge made Abigail’s head spin and her pussy drip.
“Ah such a sweet, sweet cunny,” groaned Lord Brynwood. “Still tight, I see. That may just be something you will have to live with, my ever so little one.” He groaned again as he pulled out the warm vise like pussy, enjoying the slick slide of sensitive tissue against sensitive tissue. Then gripping Abigail’s small hips, he drove himself in again, hard. He felt himself nearly explode hearing her gasp then groan at his driving thrust.
Abigail felt her juices flow freely down her legs as she felt totally owned by her new guardians. With her tongue belonging to Colette and her cunny belonging to Lord Brynwood, Abigail somehow felt suprisingly complete. It was as if she had been missing crucial pieces to her personhood that she realized now could only ever have been completed by Lord Brynwood and Colette.
Colette’s hips began undulating against Abigail’s tongue. The moans above her were growing more shallow and rapid. Abigail could tell she was close. And with Lord Brynwood’s frustratingly slow thrusts, she was aching to join Colette in the same final throes of pleasure. Redoubling her efforts, she began to lap and lick with renewed vigor. Colette moaned loudly.
Lifting up her head, Colette looked across at her handsome lover. “Together, Jeremiah,” she breathed. “Come with me. Together.”
Lord Brynwood’s eyes darkened in lust as he nodded and grunted as he thrust himself hard again into Abigail’s tight cunny. Abigail moaned, feeling herself close and yet so frustratingly far from her own peak of pleasure.
Suddenly, Colette arched her back and screamed as she came hard, her juices flowing faster than Abigail could lap. Simultaneously, Lord Brynwood plunged his hard shaft into Abigail one final time, groaning deeply as he released his seed deep into her warm yet still aching cunny.
The trio remained in their positions, pausing from exhaustion and satisfaction. Except Abigail. She felt the flooding of her aching pussy as she tried to clench against Lord Brynwood’s still inserted cock. The earl groaned from the sensation and pulled out, leaving Abigail’s hole feeling open and desperately empty. Abigail gently licked against Colette’s still engorged clit. Colette moaned softly and pulled away, letting her skirts fall down, blocking her sweet pussy from Abigail’s hungry lips.
Lord Brynwood stood and redid his trousers. Collapsing onto the sofa next to Colette, he kissed her deeply, enjoying her deep breaths of sated pleasure. Together they looked down at the bent over form of Abigail, mouth still slightly agape while her cunny dripped with need.
“The frustration you feel is the same frustration we felt today, little one. Remember this as you go to bed tonight without any relief,” Lord Brynwood explained, his eyes dark with spent pleasure.
Abigail looked up at the couple, hoping one or both would soon break and be merciful towards her pitiful needy form. But instead the pair only held hands as they enjoyed the calmness after a stormy release.
Realizing she truly would be left frustrated and aching, Abigail began to cry. She began to cry realizing how calm and determined both Colette and Lord Brynwood were regardless of her outrageous behavior. She began to cry because she had been made to wear a diaper. She began to cry because she had never felt such total completion within herself before. And she began to cry because her pussy was so very, very hungry.
And as her tears fell, Lord Brynwood and Colette kissed each other in loving and sated pleasure.
Six
In the following days after that night of frustrated pleasure, Abigail began to see subtle but significant shifts within her relationships with Lord Brynwood and Colette. It became quite clear that both took their roles as guardians quite seriously. Though not yet married, the couple shared nearly everything--their bodies, their hearts, and their minds. Although Abigail was unsure on high society’s dictates on appropriate engagement conduct, she was quite sure what Lord Brynwood and Colette Livingston engaged in was nothing short of scandalous.
And yet it worked.
With the two of them each providing such different chemistry for Abigail, she constantly felt off balance and too unstable to fight back like she knew she should. Her lessons continued with Mr. Oglethorpe under Lord Brynwood’s command and Abigail was made to continue wearing her diaper until she could prove herself mannered enough for her drawers. But she was allowed to wear her skirts again, thankfully. Abigail ruefully thought about how she had initially balked at the frilly drawers and how childish they had seemed. And now, wearing diapers, she could not think of anything more she’d rather wear.
Colette proved to hold as strict a hand as Lord Brynwood. When Abigail had made a half-hearted attempt to rouse Mr. Oglethorpe’s ire, Colette was immediately notified. Without any hesitation, she pulled Abigail to her feet and stood her in the corner of the classroom, letting her know that she would not be allowed to move from the corner till she had used her diaper and wet herself like the child she was behaving as. Abigail had stood horrified in the corner and stubbornly refused to let her bladder go.
But she had had two large glasses of milk during lunch and standing only made her need worse. With no other alternative, Abigail eventually released her bladder, letting shame and urine flood her thick diaper. Colette made sure to let Abigail feel the full weight of embarrassment by making her ask a passing maid to change her diaper.
As terrible as punishments were, the praise was just as intensely felt. Colette had decided that Abigail should also supplement her education with music lessons. Immediately a pianoforte tutor was brought in and Colette herself tutored Abigail in voice. Upon her first notes sung, Colette was delighted and thrilled to find that Abigail had nearly perfect pitch. She encouraged Abigail’s pianoforte lessons and praised her quickness in talent and skill.
In the evenings, when Abigail had gone the day with nearly no incidents, she played the short tunes she had learned for Lord Brynwood and Colette in the music parlor. As she would finish striking the last key, she would look up to find the warm eyes of both the earl and lady shining upon her as they clapped and cheered for her performance.
Every milestone she accomplished seemed to genuinely please the two. When she had one day written a small poem that Abigail felt she could put to music, she quietly sat at the pianoforte, softly playing the melody over her own words, trying to listen for the right harmony between music and lyric.
It was during this songwriting session Abigail had looked up to catch the warm smile of Colette beaming at her from across the room. Colette’s tall and slim figure leaned against the doorway as her eyes glowed in proud pleasure. “Is that a song you wrote?” she asked softly.
Abigail nodded shyly.
Colette’s smile deepened. “Sing it for me, poppet.”
And Abigail did. Carefully pressing down on the rig
ht keys to release the right chords, Abigail softly sang her words. When she had finished, she looked up to see Colette with tears shining in her eyes. The tall woman rushed over and pressed Abigail’s head against her ample bosom.
“Oh you sweet, darling little thing! What joy you are!” she cried, pressing a kiss on the top of Abigail’s head.
It was sweet moments like these that made Abigail wonder if she had somehow stumbled into a kind of family. She had always wondered what it would have been like to have had a mother and a father. And Colette and Lord Brynwood were the closest she had ever come to having such parental figures.
Even in their lovemaking, which they still partook in, they were the ones who guided Abigail through the new waters of group lovemaking. Whether they took her roughly or gently, she felt comfort in knowing that all she had to do was follow their lead.
So entrancing was life with her two guardians that Abigail was surprised to find how many days had passed in nearly idyllic tranquility. She now only had a week and a half left before Pinzer would be hunting her down!
Thinking of Colette’s soft hands and sweet cunny and Lord Brynwood’s strong arms and thick cock, Abigail knew it would be harder than ever to wrench herself away from the only family she had ever known.
“The Hall has asked if I would do them the pleasure of performing there next week,” Colette announced wryly one evening at dinner.
Lord Brynwood shared in the wry smile. “Colette, stop making it sound as if it is ridiculous for anyone to feel honored by your voice. It would be a great honor for such a small space as The Hall,” he replied, sipping his glass of wine.
Colette shrugged in the most graceful of manners. “Honor or no, I think I shall,” she said. Looking across the table, she smiled at Abigail. “I’d much rather be home now than touring. But the idea of giving up performing would be heartbreaking. The Hall couldn’t have asked at a better moment. I think I can start maybe performing more locally so I can stay nearer to home.”
Lord Brynwood’s eyes warmed at Colette’s words. He reached out for Colette’s long fingered hand. Grasping this, he looked softly at Abigail. “I think that is a marvelous idea,” he said, his eyes warm with contentment at having both the ladies of his heart near his hearth and home. “Finalize the dates for next week and I will make sure little Abigail and I are sitting in the best box in The Hall!”
Abigail blushed at such attention. She couldn’t believe that Colette would mean to stop touring just to be near her! She was taking a sip of watered down wine to cool her blush when the realization of what Lord Brynwood had said hit her. He would be taking her back to town next week! Surely it would be easier to slip away from Lord Brynwood in a crowded performance hall than in an isolated country manor. Lord Brynwood had unwittingly provided Abigail with her escape!
Swallowing the mouthful of diluted wine, she felt her heart ache terribly as she realized the end was nearer than she had dared to realize. She looked at beautiful Colette and handsome Lord Brynwood. She knew she should just be thankful for the time that she had already been allotted. Many girls in her situation would never have even dreamed of such a miracle, even with the punishments.
And yet...
And yet...
Abigail quickly hid her tears behind her glass of wine.
Seven
A muffled set of footsteps hurried past the study door. Abigail froze. Standing behind Lord Brynwood’s desk, she paused, waiting to hear if the footsteps were returning. Holding her breath, Abigail listened. No, they trailed off down the hall. Expelling the trapped air all at once, she continued rifling through earl’s desk drawer.
It was the night of Colette’s first performance at The Hall and all day Abigail’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking. She couldn’t believe the day had finally arrived. And just a few days short of Pinzer’s deadline. It was cutting it very close.
Colette had already left early to prepare at The Hall. Before leaving, she had pressed a loving kiss on Abigail’s forehead and asked that she listen to a certain part of her aria for it will be a piece that she will expect Abigail to learn in the future. Abigail nodded, hiding her trembling lips behind a pinned smile.
She had hoped to find a few loose shillings maybe in the earl’s drawer. But all she had found so far were loose leaf sheets of legal looking documents for his business ventures. As her fingers blindly groped in the dark study, she suddenly felt a familiar fabric in a dark corner of the drawer. Hooking her fingers around it, she pulled it out. It was her thief’s pouch! It was the pouch that had been inside her pocket the day she had run into Lord Brynwood’s horse. Pulling it open, she found everything still in there--three pairs of pearl cufflinks, a gold watch chain, four shillings, and a pink ribbon. Seeing those familiar items all still in her old pouch made Abigail well up with tears. She wanted to laugh at seeing the ridiculous hodgepodge of goods but then also cry at remembering how far she had come since that fateful day.
Pocketing the pouch and its contents, she looked around the desk for any other valuables. She knew Pinzer would be disappointed with such a meager return. Her eyes caught the dull gleam of Lord Brynwood’s solid gold penknife. It was small and thin but had a heft to it that spoke of its genuine weight in value. Abigail quickly added that to her pocket before gently closing the desk drawer and tiptoeing out of the study.
Dressed in a light blue satin dress and cape, Abigail looked every inch a young princess ready for an evening in town. Her white stockings glowed and her matching blue satin slippers looked soft and rich. Yet looking into the mirror, Abigail felt completely hollow inside. This would be her last night at Brynwood Manor. She had cried and laughed and learned within these walls. It was here she had found the hidden corners of her body’s pleasures and had learned to return it tenfold to her partners. Never again would she be able to sing for the earl and his lady. Never again would she be able to passionately kiss Colette while Lord Brynwood took her roughly from behind. Wiping her tears away, she hurried out of her room and down the stairs to the arms of the waiting Lord Brynwood.
As they rode into town in Lord Brynwood’s handsome carriage, Abigail tried to soak up every moment she had remaining with him. She tried to commit every feature to memory, storing it against the nights of future loneliness.
As if feeling her carefully scrutinizing gaze, Lord Brynwood turned his gaze from the window towards Abigail. A slow lazy smile sprawled across his unusually tanned face. “My, don’t you look lovely, little one,” he said quietly.
Abigail felt her lips tremble and tears ready to flow. She took a slow breath in to calm herself. She couldn’t give herself away when she was so close to town!
“Thank you, sir,” she murmured, looking down at her small gloved hands.
Lord Brynwood looked over his little charge. He felt a warmth surge within him as he realized with pride and delight that this little joy incarnate was his and his alone to protect. He knew that Colette shared in his happiness at having Abigail in their lives.
“Little one, I want you to know,” Lord Brynwood said, his voice rough with sincerity, “I’ve never been as happy for as many days as I have since the day you ran into my horse.” He grinned thinking of the dirty street urchin that day, comparing her to the lovely little flower that sat before him in the swaying carriage.
Abigail tried to hide her face within her bonnet. Tears shined in her eyes and she knew if she were to blink, they would never stop falling. She should feel thankful for what she’d been fortunate enough to have had! But no matter how thoroughly she tried to berate herself into detaching from the situation, she couldn’t. Her heart belonged nowhere else but between Lord Brynwood and Colette.
“Me too, milord,” she murmured thickly. “Me too.”
Arriving in front of The Hall, a large crowd of society’s elite mingled and gathered as they prepared for a performance by the famous Colette Livingston. Lord Brynwood stepped down from the carriage and picked Abigail up and set her down on the cobbled streets.
Furtively, Abigail looked around to see any potential escape routes. The crowd was too thick to get a good view of the street but she could see the empty corners and the dark alleyways. As a lifelong orphan and pickpocket, she knew she was never more than a half hour away from Pinzer. And conversely, Pinzer was never more than a half hour away from her or the town centre.
Putting his arm around Abigail’s shoulder in a paternal fashion rather than pulling her arm through his like a gentleman, Lord Brynwood guided her through the crowd and into The Hall.
An usher quickly led them up the grand staircase and to Lord Brynwood’s private box. Inside, Abigail found herself seated on a plush velvet chair with a prime view of the wide stage. The hall was beautifully lit and the gilded carvings of The Hall gleamed dimly like a luminous dream. But Abigail had no eyes for that. Instead she felt her palms sweat and her heart race as she watched Lord Brynwood’s every move.
Seated next to her, he blocked the only exit out of the box. Abigail wondered if she could contrive a good enough reason to leave on her own for a time. But it would be better to slip away when Lord Brynwood was unaware. It would buy her a few extra precious minutes to put some distance between herself and the earl.
As Abigail sat trying to reluctantly strategize her escape, a booming voice called out from outside the box. “Well if it isn’t Lord Brynwood, out to grace us lowly townfolk with his presence!”
Abigail recognized that voice. Her head snapped up and caught sight of Lord Anthony Sutton’s handsome profile. Lord Brynwood smiled and stood to greet his friend. Abigail watched with a racing pulse to see if the men would move out of the box doorway.
Disciplining The Thief - Complete Series (Historical Victorian Forbidden First Time Steamy Romance) Page 8