Penelope's Punishment

by Zoe Blake

  Alex groaned as her innocent thrashing brushed his already straining cock. He reluctantly removed his hands from her warm cunny and picked up his discarded walking stick. Without a word, he pulled Pip from the alcove and dragged her across the walkway to the curb, where he hailed a waiting hack. She was no match for his strength as he forced her into the carriage.

  Taking advantage of his distraction as he gave directions to the driver, Pip reached across the tight confines of the small carriage to try the handle of the other door. She felt a rush of cool air as the door swung open but before she could make good her escape, there was a strong grip on the back of her coat. Hauling her back into the hack and depositing her on the seat across from him, Alex gave the signal for the driver to go. He settled back onto the hard, cracked leather seats, stretching out his long legs and observed the woman staring daggers at him. It was hard to believe anyone would mistake someone with her obvious delicate features for a mere lad. He could easily picture those expressive green eyes hazed over with arousal as he put that soft, full mouth to better use.

  “Tell me your name,” he demanded.

  That same soft mouth formed a rigid line as she stubbornly crossed her arms and averted her face, refusing to answer.

  Reaching across the small space, he fisted a swath of her coat and hauled her off the seat till she fell to her knees before him, precisely how he imagined. With a cry, she raised frightened eyes to clash with his determined ones.

  In a casual tone that belied their position, he stated, “I’m not known for my patience, Kitten. Tell. Me. Your. Name.”

  Pip had never been more terrified in her life. Now that he knew she was a female, she had a good idea of his intentions. True, he had not truly harmed her…yet. She needed to bide her time while looking for an opportunity to escape.

  “I’m the Queen of England,” she quipped, knowing the answer would anger him. She preferred his anger to his arousal.

  “We can talk,” he responded in a low tone, “or you can entertain me in other ways.” His eyes skimmed her prone position with an eyebrow raised suggestively. She was breathing heavily in her fright and with every exhale he could feel her warm breath caress his cock through his trousers. He didn’t question why he wanted the little spitfire guttersnipe. He already knew why. Now it was just a matter of controlling the urge to take what he wanted.

  “Pip!” she shouted. “My name is Pip.”

  Alex tightened his grip on her coat, as he felt the carriage slow to a halt. He leaned in close till they shared the same breath. “Your real name.”

  Caught in his powerful grasp, all thought of lying fled.

  “Penelope,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  He smiled, the small movement transforming his features.

  “Welcome to my home, Penelope.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Gambler’s Winnings

  Alex exited the carriage while still keeping a hold of her garments. Her slight frame, made tossing her over his shoulder almost effortless. He did not want to risk her trying to run off.

  Beating her fists against his back, Pip shrieked, “Let me go you nackle-ass lobcock!” A swift stinging slap to her bottom quickly silenced her…briefly.

  “We are definitely going to have to do something about that mouth of yours.”

  He strolled to the front entrance of his London town home as if it were a daily habit to have a squirming angry female dressed as a boy in his arms. The door opened the moment he reached the first step.

  “Welcome home, my lo…” The footman’s welcome died on his lips as he stared slack-jawed at the curious site of his lordship.

  “Evening, John,” greeted Alex. “Would you be so kind as to ring for Smither?” He handed the stupefied footman his top hat and walking stick.

  Pip momentarily ceased her struggles as she stared at the opulence about her; marble floors covered with thick carpets, grand landscape paintings, silver candlesticks with real beeswax candles rather than foul-smelling tallow ones. It was not her first time in a fine home; she had been a back slang it for a couple house-breaking crews in the past, but the nature of her job had been to watch the back door, and not enter too far in.

  Pip could not help but exclaim, “La, you really butter the bacon here don’t you!”

  “I will take that to mean you like my home,” Alex replied sardonically.

  “Good evening, my lord.” His lordship’s butler, Smither, entered the hall and greeted his lordship as if nothing was amiss. “Has White’s gambling tables decided to deal in urchins as opposed to coin now?”

  Pip gave an indignant shout at being called an urchin. She was a pickpocket and a damn good one! She didn’t laze about all day simply begging like the urchins. She worked for her money. Unfortunately, defending her honor cost her another stinging smack to her bottom.

  “Very humorous, Smitty,” responded Alex, using his childhood nickname for his butler. He readjusted Pip’s squirming weight on his shoulder. “Help me get this little baggage upstairs and ring for the maids. I need a bath prepared.”

  It was now Smither’s turn to be indignant. “How many times must I ask you not to call me by that dreadfully inappropriate nickname, your lordship?”

  “Twice as many times as I ask you not to call me ‘your lordship’, I suppose,” came Alex’s smart reply. “Good god man, we’re the same age!”

  Smither’s father had been Alex’s father’s butler. They both spent their childhood on his father’s estate, playing and getting into mischief as boys do. When Alex inherited the title upon his father’s passing, Smither joined him in London to run his household. Butlers were supposed to be old, bald and dignified. If they walked with a slight shuffle all the better. Smither was none of these things. Equal in height to Alex’s tall frame, he was handsome with a full head of black hair. He did however make attempts at the dignified part. Insisting on calling Alex ‘his lordship’ was one of those attempts.

  With a resigned sigh, Smither continued, “The maids are a bit tied up at the present. I will draw the bath. Shall I ask Cook to prepare some food and perhaps a pot of tea?”

  “Capital idea! Make sure it is simple fare but warm.”

  Pip, who had been ignoring the conversation in favor of trying to scratch through the back of Alex’s evening coat, perked up when she heard the word food.

  “Very good, your lordship.” The last was said with undue emphasis and a very unbutler-like smirk. Smither disappeared through the servant’s entrance as Alex made his way to the grand staircase that led to the upper bedchambers. Making quick work of the stairs, despite the added burden of Pip’s weight, he crossed to the massive double doors that led to the master suite.

  A fire had been lit in anticipation of his return, so the room was cozy and warm. Against one wall, a reclining sofa sat beside a mahogany table topped with crystal decanters holding a variety of amber liquors. A massive four-poster bed covered in lush, midnight blue velvet dominated the other side of the room. It was on this bed Alex unceremoniously deposited Pip. The moment her bottom sunk into the soft bedding she scrambled off and stood defensively to the side as she watched Alex move about the room.

  He removed his evening coat as well as his dress coat and waistcoat, leaving him scandalously attired in just his shirtsleeves. He really was an amazing specimen of a man, moving with a fluid grace. Pip could see the shadow of well-muscled arms through the thin fabric of his shirt. The bloated, dirty drunkards of the East End were nothing compared to this clean-shaven male in his prime. Pip’s heart began to race. She was in real trouble. Despite her male attire, she had a few close calls over the years but usually the men were so drunk they were easily out-maneuvered. She did not think it would be the case with this man.

  Alex kept a close eye on the beautiful little baggage as he poured himself a brandy. Those wide, mesmerizing green eyes were a window into her every emotion. He knew she was frightened and wary. He also knew that his intentions, while not pure for
the long run, were quite honorable in this moment. He only wanted to see her properly bathed and fed. Alex felt a spark of anticipation when trying to imagine what color hair framed her small, delicate features since it was currently tucked up into a dirty cap pulled low on her head.

  “Would you like a sip of my brandy, Kitten?” While the deep-timbre of his voice was low and rich, Pip jumped as if physically struck. She shook her head no and then went on the offensive.

  Grabbing the first object she laid eyes on - a glass on a bedside table - she threw it at his head. Alex easily ducked and turned as the tiny glass shattered against the marble fireplace. Before he could respond there was a quiet knock on the door, then Smither entered.

  “Has the amusement already started?” he asked with a smile as Alex let out a bark of laughter. “The bath is drawn, my lord, and Cook is preparing a tray.”

  Pip mistook the men’s merriment. One man she could possibly defend against but not two. Fearing the worst, she lashed out.

  “You have no collie shangles with me! I will give you a bloody cop a mouse if you think you’ll lay hands on me,” she threatened as she slowly backed up against the wall.

  “What the bloody hell?” exclaimed Alex.

  Smither cleared his throat. “If I may, sir? I believe the miss is saying you have no quarrel with her and furthermore if you should try to approach her she will give you a black eye.”

  “Good god man! How the devil do you know what she is saying?” quizzed a shocked Alex.

  “I do not spend every waking moment in this household, my lord. I do have a life,” said an indignant Smither without further explanation.

  Pip had enough of their banter. “I am no dollymop and there will be batty-fang to wake the neighbors if either of you try!” she said as her eyes searched for another weapon.

  At Alex’s questioning gaze, Smither helpfully translated. “She is not a lightskirt, a prostitute, and she will give us what I believe is a thrashing should we…ahem…try.”

  “Well, my little kitten, you can sheath your claws,” reassured Alex. “Smither already has his hands full.” This was said with knowing wink to his butler. “Besides, his taste runs more to the robust.”

  Despite the danger the masculine attire she had been forced to wear for survival, Pip was still a woman. It still hurt to have her feminine charms called into question. Had her circumstances been different, she may have attracted a man like this great lord. But Alex’s next words showed she should not have doubted her appeal.

  “No, my dear, you do not have to worry about Smither. It is me you have to worry about,” his tone heavy with sexual awareness.

  Breaking the tension in the room, Smither cleared his throat. “If I may have a word, my lord?” He indicated with a slight turn of his head that privacy was required. Keeping a close watch on the little harridan, Alex led Smither to the opposite corner of the room out of earshot.

  “While she is doing an admiral job with the colorful language, I believe it is an act,” Smither mused.

  “How so, Smitty?” asked Alex.

  “Her elocution is too pronounced. The words are correct but lack the proper guttural accent. While I have no doubt she presently lives on the streets, her circumstances have not always been so. It would be my guess she has received some education.”

  Alex looked at Penelope with new interest. While the amount of education she had received did not matter to him, it did make his plans for her easier.

  “I believe she is deliberately bating you, my lord,” offered Smither. “Keeping you at bay with her sassy mouth.” The last comment elicited a raised eyebrow from Alex. He excused Smither and once again, leaving him alone with Pip.

  Alex took a sip of brandy, letting the warm liquor calm and soothe him. When he spoke his tone was low and even. “You tried to rob a peer of the realm.”

  Her knowing hunger and the warmth of the room had lulled Pip into a complacent state. At his accusation, she was once again alert and wary. There was no point in denying it. Besides, no one would believe her over a rich and powerful lord. Pip played with the tattered cuffs of her threadbare coat, avoiding his eyes.

  “Penelope, I am talking to you.”

  “Don’t call me that!” she objected. “My name is Pip.”

  “Your name is Penelope. There is no need to return to your, how should I say…life of crime?” said Alex, his mouth twisting wryly. “You intrigue me. I intend to see to your care.”

  She had been on the streets long enough to know that no one did anything purely out of kindness. They always wanted something in return. She had a very good idea what this lord wanted.

  “What if I don’t want to be in your care?”

  Alex’s dark eyes narrowed as he considered the little baggage boldly trying to stand up to him. She was perfect for his needs. He carefully put down his brandy and quickly advanced upon her. Pip was slammed against the wall and caged under his arms before she had a chance to draw breath to scream. The warm heat of his body carried the clean masculine scent of sandalwood. She resisted the urge to breathe deeply.

  His eyes swept over her face before peering down. She knew he was searching for a hint of curves but would find none. Pip painfully bound her breasts flat with strips of linen to aid in her disguise.

  While never taking his dark gaze off her, Alex snatched the cap from her head. A riot of chin-length auburn curls tumbled out. Pip’s eyes widened in alarm as she desperately tried to wrench her cap from his grasp. He held it at arm’s length while he studied his new find. If possible, the burnished red color of her hair made her green eyes even more vivid. Even with all the dirt smudges and ill-fitting clothes, she was beautiful. She awoke in him a primal need to protect and master.

  “Oh my sweet little Penelope, you have no choice.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bath Time

  “You’re a nob, what do you want with a low pickpocket? How come you ain’t threatening to rat me to a copper, to throw me in durbies and send me on the boat?”

  “You are going to have to forgive me, love. I don’t have Smitty’s unique interest in the local vernacular,” quipped Alex. “I am guessing from context you are worried I will call the magistrate. Fairly certain the boat is a reference to the convict boats.” Alex could tell from the light of wary recognition in her eyes that he was close. “Now I must confess, ‘durbies’ has me stumped.”

  With a sigh of annoyance, Pip pushed her wrists together by way of illustration.

  “Handcuffs!” Alex couldn’t help feeing quiet proud of himself for deciphering the indecipherable. “Well, now that I cannot promise,” he said with a roguish wink.

  Pip was not amused, crossing her arms defensively she snapped back. “I don’t need some podsnapper like you. I can take care of myself just fine.”

  Alex placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head back. “I want you to listen very carefully to me, little one,” he said, capturing her gaze with the intensity of his own. “You are far from just fine. Ignoring the obvious deficiencies in your wardrobe, you are desperately in want of a hot meal and a bath. A lesser man would not have taken the time to appreciate the feminine charms laying hidden under the boyish garb.”

  Alex shuddered to think on the fate that may have awaited this precious little thing had another been her mark. He did not want to scare her, but severity was needed. Leaning in close, he said harshly, “You could have been beaten or worse, then left for dead in that cold alcove. If by some miracle your identity had not been discovered, it certainly would have once you had been thrown into the gaol to be made the sport of guards.”

  Alex felt a small twinge of guilt when he saw those same beautiful green eyes fill with unshed tears but he was resolved. He did not know how long she had survived on the streets with her charade, but if he saw through her disguise it was only a matter of time before someone else did as well. She needed him.

  “Surely my offer of protection and care would be preferable to death from dis
ease and misuse in a London prison?” he finished sharply.

  Pip resented his high-handed tone as much as she resented the fact he was right.

  Sensing her body tensing for another fight - no doubt filled with colorful language - he decided to take the situation in hand. Enough talking. Alex determined to see if she responded better to action over reason.

  “It’s time for your bath. Take off your clothes.”

  Pip’s cheeks flamed with humiliation. “Just cause I’m a poor dipper you think I just give my crinkum crankum away. That I’ll just open my quail-pipe and give your tallywags a tickle like some dirty puzzle?”

  Alex grabbed her chin more forcefully this time pushing her head back to meet his stern scrutiny.

  “You will learn to speak to me with a civil tongue, little one. I will have no more of your gutter ramblings. You are sorely in need of a bath, a meal and a well-deserved spanking. Not necessarily in that order. Which shall it be?” he challenged.

  “Go bugger yourself,” she sneered recklessly as she pounded her small fists against his chest.

  “Right.” With a determined glint to his eye, Alex grabbed her upper arm and dragged her across the room to the reclining sofa. “I see you chose the spanking first.” He sat down and placed a resisting Pip across his lap.

  “Don’t you dare spank me!” Her voice shook with anger as she struggled in his grasp.

  “You have needed this spanking from the very first moment I met you.”

  Alex ruthlessly pulled down her britches exposing her pert, little bottom. He marveled how dark his skin looked compared to the soft paleness of hers. Gently caressing one cheek, his large hand easily engulfed the supple curve. He raised his hand to start her punishment.

  The moment he made contact with her vulnerable flesh, Pip arched her back and screamed, more from the humiliation then from any real pain. As the spanking continued, she clawed at his trouser leg, her body racked with choking sobs. With each successive spank the hot stinging sensation warming her bottom increased.