by Zoe Blake
“Obey me or be dragged over my lap for a harsh spanking, little one.”
Opening her mouth on a gasp of dismay at the mere thought of another spanking, he forced his cock through.
Her scream of shock and outrage was muffled. Pushing the bulbous head deep into her mouth, his cock pressed against her tongue. She could feel the thick ridge as it scraped along her smooth tongue. Her teeth lightly touched the silky skin under his shaft.
Placing both hands on either side of her head, Archer readjusted his powerful stance till he was practically straddling her prone form. On her knees, she was at the perfect height to have her throat violated by his thrusting shaft. Pulling back a moment to allow her to catch her breath, he slid back in, inching in further. Using his hands, he tilted her head back at a harsher angle, opening her throat. He slowly edged in till he felt the tip of his cock bump against the narrow tunnel at the back of her throat.
Winnie scratched at his thighs but nothing dislodged him. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she choked on the offending object being forced down her throat.
“Breathe through your nose,” he growled.
Winnie tried but it didn’t help. The room was filled with her soft whines and harsh gags as his cock moved back and forth. Her lips felt bruised and swollen as they were stretched to an alarming degree around the thick, wide girth of his shaft. The tip of her tongue was smashed against the back of her teeth. Tasting the tin, metallic taste of blood, she panicked. Once again she tried to scream.
The vibrations from her cries sent stimulating tremors up his shaft. Goading him on. Archer felt the clenching embrace of her throat around his cock as he thrust deep. Despite her untouched state, she was taking on at least seven of his nine inches. With more training she should be able to swallow his whole cock. The thought of her cute nose touching his stomach as she took him deep within her small mouth almost rushed his release. Pushing his hips back, Archer eased out all but the head of his cock.
“Swirl your tongue around the head.”
Her tongue felt swollen and heavy but she did her best to obey. Tasting his rich, masculine essence. Archer pulled free. Winnie felt suddenly empty and cold.
Reaching down, he placed his hands under her arms and lifted her up. Cradling her in his arms, he carried her over to the bed. Winnie started to cry again. The trauma of the event, the confusing arousal from being overpowered, held down, forced, making her body shake.
Archer stroked her back in wide soothing circles. “Don’t cry, baby doll. You know that is how you really wanted it.”
Winnie looked at him with reproachful eyes. Denial on the tip of her abused tongue.
Archer laid her back on the bed, letting the sheer nightgown ride up around her tummy. Forcing her clenched knees open, he looked down at her recently shaved cunny. “I can see your cunny glisten with your own excitement.” Grabbing her hand, he pushed her fingers between her legs. “Feel,” he ordered.
Winnie’s fingers slid along her silky skin, feeling the damning moisture between her lower lips. She tried to snatch her hand back but he would not allow it. “Touch yourself,” he commanded. His eyes glowed with banked desire. Watching as she tentatively stroked her soft skin, Archer fisted his own shaft, trying to ease the building pressure.
“Use your fingers to spread open your cunny lips.”
Mesmerized by his dominating presence, Winnie was like a small animal caught in the clutches of a bird of prey. She spread her fingers a small amount.
“Wider,” he barked.
Winnie scissored her middle fingers open as wide as she could, pressing into her own delicate flesh.
“Good girl.”
Archer placed the head of his cock at her tight, untried entrance.
“Wait…” pleaded Winnie. Taking in the leashed tension radiating from him from his tight chest to the muscle flicking at the corner of his mouth from how tightly his jaw was clenched, she knew this was like keeping a thunderstorm in a bottle. “Will it hurt?” she squeaked.
“Yes,” he answered. His tone unapologetic.
Archer shifted his hips back and drove forward. His cock tore into her, using his weight to powerfully drive into her resisting body. Her slick passage wrapped tightly around him. He could feel every tremor, every shudder, and every ripple against the sensitive skin of his shaft. Plunging in deep, Archer pushed till he felt her maiden barrier. The sweet rush of primal instinct took over. He was no longer a cultured, titled peer of the realm. He was a man claiming a woman.
Using his own flesh to tear hers, Archer broke through her barrier, burying his shaft to the base in her wet heat.
Winnie cried out. The burning pain tearing through her body. It was too much. Her inner thighs ached from being forced open by his hips. Her cunny felt torn and bruised. The pressure of him moving inside of her both fascinated and terrified.
“Please…” she moaned, not sure if she was begging him to stop or never stop.
Archer slowed his thrusts to a steady rhythm. Leaning over her with his left forearm, he latched on to one of her nipples. Pulling the delicious berry into his mouth, gently scraping it with his teeth. Winnie moaned again. This time pushing her hips up, grinding against his throbbing shaft.
“Do you like that? Or am I being too lenient with my little pain princess?” he breathed harshly against her throat. “Should we see?”
Archer placed several open mouth kisses across her chest, before latching on her other breast. This time when he pulled the delicate nub into his mouth, he devoured her. Sucking. Biting. Gripping the soft curve and crushing it against his eager lips.
Trembling with barely suppressed aching new awareness, Winnie screamed in pain as she clutched the back of his head, pulling him closer to her breast. All the while his unrelenting thrusts pounded into her.
Pinning her with the possessive intensity of his gaze, Archer leaned up on both arms, caging her in. Using the leverage, he increased the power of his thrusts, shifting her whole body back along the bed linens as it tried to absorb the impact.
Feeling the telltale shivers ripple through her cunny, Archer knew she was close to release. Reaching between them, he grasped that tiny pliable bundle of nerves and viciously pinched.
The sudden sharp sting of pain shattered Winnie’s senses. Arching her back, Winnie opened her mouth in a silent scream, unable to even draw breath as her whole ravished body was racked with sweet convulsions. Her head spinning Winnie felt like she had just been dipped in warm honey.
Archer gave one more robust thrust before moving to straddle her head with his thick thighs.
“Open.” The simple command filled with dark promise.
Winnie mindlessly opened her mouth. Her dove gray eyes clouded with sated desire staring up at him.
Archer vigorously worked his shaft till he felt the rising tempest. Rising on his knees, he leaned over her prone form, placing the head of his cock against her bottom lip. Watching with primitive pleasure as his thick cream coated her lips and tongue. Watching as she was forced to swallow his seed, swallow a part of him. His possession of her body complete.
~
Limp and worn, Winnie felt him guide her body under the warm bed covers. Cradling her against his side, she could feel him press a kiss to her forehead. “You did very good, little one,” he whispered.
Winnie smiled as she snuggled closer. Pleased to have pleased him.
~
Sometime later, she was awakened by a kiss on her slightly swollen lips. Winnie slowly opened her eyes to meet the gaze of the powerful lord who had taken over her thoughts, her body.
“Wake up, my little pain princess,” he grinned. “I need to get you back to the nursery soon and you still have to be punished.”
Punished? Winnie sat straight up, clutching the linens to her naked breasts when it slipped down.
“Why?” she asked in wonder, tears starting to form.
“You didn’t think you would not be punished for disobeying me did you?” he teas
ed as he flicked the cute tip of her nose. “Out of bed,” he ordered as he pulled the covers from her clinging grasp.
“When did I disobey?” she desperately challenged.
His large hands easily spanned her tiny waist as he swung her from the bed. Her knees buckled the moment they touched the floor. She would have stumbled if not for his strong arm. Archer led her to a plush chair placed near the fire. Placing his hand between her shoulder blades, he pushed Winnie over the padded arm. Her face buried in the chair cushion. Her bottom upturned and vulnerable. Archer flipped up the ruffled edge of her nightgown so he would have complete access to her smooth behind.
Reaching for the thirty-inch maple caning rod he had set aside, Archer tested its light weight in his hand before responding. “After this punishment, you will know not to hesitate when I tell you to open that small mouth of yours.”
“Oh…no…no! Please, I didn’t meant it!” cried Winnie.
Archer pushed the rod into her creamy, white flesh. Watching as her bottom curves swelled around its length.
Winnie was even more confused. Afraid to lift her head, she was not sure what was being pressed against her bottom.
Swinging his hand back, there was a sickening hissing sound as the rod swung through the air before connecting with her soft cheeks.
Winnie howled in pain. “Oh god, what is that?”
Archer swung the rod again. The sharp stinging pain unlike the spanking from earlier confused and alarmed Winnie.
“Please, stop!” She desperately wanted to turn her head to see what he was punishing her with but did not dare.
With each contact of the stiff punishment tool, her skin showed a thin crimson line before it burst into a deep blush that suffused her whole bottom cheek. The press of the rod, deep into the vulnerable skin, helped intensify the pain. Tormenting its intended victim with its narrow focus.
Gripping the fabric of the cushion, Winnie openly sobbed into its tapestry depths. Her bottom felt like it was on fire. The skin burned and twitched with each stinging kiss of the rod. Clenching her cheeks against the impact only made the hot, flaming skin itch and burn more.
When her cheeks were a bright, cherry red interlaced with the occasional still visible stripe from the rod, Archer stopped the punishment. Letting her cry, Archer strode over to the mantle and yanked on the bell pull that would summon the nanny. Returning to Winnie, he drew her up into his arms, then took the seat, cradling her on his lap. Winnie yelped in displeasure the moment her swollen and sore bottom came in contact with his naked skin. Any pressure against her own skin was agony. She tried to rise but one stern look from him settled her back into place.
“What will my little doll do the next time her papa tells her to open her mouth?” he asked in a placating tone.
Struggling because her lips were trembling from her sobs, Winnie opened her mouth.
Archer stroked her tear stained cheeks. “Good girl.”
Just then, there was a discreet knock at the door. Nanny had arrived to take her back to the nursery.
~
Taking in her red cheeks both above and lower, Mrs. Bishop scolded Winnie for displeasing her papa and earning a punishment as she dragged the now docile girl back to the nursery.
“Up you go,” instructed Mrs. Bishop, indicating the large changing table next to the cradle after she had removed Winnie’s nightgown.
Feeling vulnerable and exposed as she laid naked on its thinly padded surface, Winnie looked about the room to see what Mrs. Bishop was doing. She was mortified when she saw the nanny return with a bowl full of sudsy hot water and a bathing linen.
“Raise your legs up high,” she said, her lips tight.
“I can wash myself,” offered Winnie shyly.
Mrs. Bishop responded by grabbing the girl’s ankles and raising them straight up herself. Holding tight, she reached for the wet bathing linen.
Starting at the impact of the soft, warm cloth on her still sensitive cunny, Winnie clenched her fists tight as she endured the humiliating wipe down.
Sprinkling the area with some talc which would help with the redness, Mrs. Bishop lowered Winnie’s legs and ordered her to raise her hips. As soon as Winnie complied, Mrs. Bishop slipped a plush nappy under her bottom. Pulling the corners up between Winnie’s legs and sides, she secured it with several pins.
“What…no…I…please nanny,” implored Winnie. “Don’t put me in a nappy!”
“Do you want another spanking, little miss,” she responded sternly.
Winnie shook her head no.
“I didn’t think so,” said Mrs. Bishop with a firm nod of her head. Taking Winnie by the hand, she helped her off the changing table and in to her cradle.
“Can I have a nightgown?” Winnie asked weakly.
“No. You will sleep with your little titties out and only in your nappy tonight.”
Pulling Winnie’s arms above her head, her hands were once again secured within the mittens and strapped to the headboard. The nanny then left and did not return for several minutes, leaving Winnie to squirm to try to get comfortable. Mrs. Bishop returned with a bottle full of milk and just a touch of brandy. She placed the tip against Winnie’s lips. Winnie tried to speak around it, to let her know she was not thirsty, but was not able. The bottle was thrust into her mouth.
“Drink every drop. No nonsense.”
Winnie obeyed. Forcing the tepid milk into her stomach.
When the bottle was finished, Mrs. Bishop brought over the trainer.
“Oh please. Don’t make me put that in my mouth! My lips are so sore from…from what…Papa,” begged Winnie as she started to cry.
“That is precisely why you need this trainer. So your mouth can become accustomed to the demands of your papa and not feel so sore afterwards,” admonished Mrs. Bishop as she pushed the cock-shaped pacifier past Winnie’s resisting swollen pink lips. After buckling it securely behind Winnie’s head, Mrs. Bishop told her to sleep before turning off the light and pitching the nursery into darkness.
Winnie softly cried herself to sleep as she thought of Madame Minerva’s and wondered if she had made a terrible, terrible mistake.
Chapter Eight
“Wake up, my sleepy little miss.”
Before Winnie could even open her eyes, she felt a hand smooth over her stomach and reach between her legs. For a moment, she thought it was him. Cooing at the soft touch on her cunny through the fabric, Winnie opened her eyes to see Mrs. Bishop, staring down at her in disapproval.
“Your nappy is still dry,” she accused as if it was Winnie’s fault. “There will be no getting out of this cradle until you have used your nappy.”
Winnie started to protest but realized she still had the thick trainer secured to her mouth. She tried to communicate her displeasure by shaking her head.
“No nonsense! Your papa will be here soon. Do you want him to see you still abed like a naughty girl?”
Horrified, Winnie again tried to talk around her trainer. She desperately needed to use the necessary, especially after that large bottle of milk nanny had forced on her the night before but she would die before using a nappy like a baby! Stubbornly she laid in her crib, refusing to obey Mrs. Bishop’s order.
“Stubborn are we? Well, I have ways of dealing with that,” said Mrs. Bishop crisply. Once again placing her hand on Winnie’s exposed stomach, she gently pushed down, applying pressure to Winnie’s already full bladder.
Winnie shook her head and whined around the trainer, but Mrs. Bishop would not relent. Winnie tried to hold out. Tried to clench. Tried to hold it. In the end she lost, tears ran down the sides of her face as she felt the mortifying warmth of her own failure.
“Finally!” groused Mrs. Bishop, before releasing her from the wrist restraints and removing the trainer.
“Oh, how could you!” burst out Winnie, mortified.
Mrs. Bishop paid her no heed as she walked Winnie to the changing table. Seeing no other option, Winnie relented to the degrading
ministrations of the nanny. Once the nappy was removed and Winnie was cleaned up, Mrs. Bishop instructed her to roll on to her side, facing the wall. Winnie reluctantly did so. Hoping the sooner she complied, the sooner she would be allowed to put on clothes.
At that moment, Archer walked into the nursery. Taking in the beautiful slope of Winnie’s back as it crested over the curve of her bottom cheeks leading to her shapely thighs and calves, he said in a deeply admiring tone, “That is a lovely sight for the morning.”
Astonished, Winnie turned on to her back to see Archer standing nearby. With a squeal of shame, Winnie tried to cover herself by bringing her knees up to her chest while she pulled her arms over her breasts.
“Such nonsense!” balked Mrs. Bishop as she pulled on Winnie’s knees, forcing her back into position on her side. “Please accept my apologies, my lord. The little one is very fussy this morning.”
“Quite all right, Mrs. Bishop. What are you about here?”
Winnie’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as the nanny said, “Well, she just finished using her nappy, and now I was going to take her temperature. Health is important as you know, my lord.”
“I would like to assist,” he stated gamely.
“Of course, my lord. Here you are,” said Mrs. Bishop.
Expecting to be pulled onto her back so he could place a thermometer in her mouth, Winnie was surprised when she felt his warm fingers, prying between her bottom cheeks. “Oh!” she exclaimed.
“Hold still. Papa needs to take your temperature,” he calmly stated.
“But…but…you are…you’re,” she fluttered to a stop.
Archer chuckled at her obvious flustered state. She was so adorable he thought as he placed the cold, metal tip of the thermometer at her tight, back entrance.
Winnie could feel something being pushed into her bottom. Unlike the enema nozzle or Papa’s fingers, it was very small and thin. It did not hurt as much as it was uncomfortable both in deed and thought.
Giving the thermometer a twist for good measure, he released her bottom cheek, admiring the lush curve as he did. Stroking her long smooth hair as he waited for a reading, he whispered, “I love watching my little one’s cute bottom being forced to open for me.”