by Zoe Blake
Alex ran his thumb over her wet bottom lip, the desire heavy in his gaze. “Submission, my dear Penelope.”
He released her chin and walked over to the sideboard to pour himself another brandy. Penelope did not move or make a sound, frozen by his words.
“I am going to teach you how to clear your mind so your body may be free. All your worries and fears are now on my shoulders. It is through submission you will learn to completely trust in me, in my strength. You will learn to trust me to take care of all your body’s needs.”
Penelope slowly rose, shaking her head.
“What if I don’t want to submit to you?”
Alex smiled, he was expecting that response.
“As I told you before, little one, you don’t have a choice.”
He could see the fight return to her eyes. No doubt he was about to be treated to some more of her colorful verse.
“Bloody hell! So I agree to get hammered for life so you can treat me like some little chavy or you toss me to the coppers?”
Alex put down his glass and stalked towards her. Penelope tried to back up but was prevented by the heat from the fire.
“Married to me or the cops? Again that implies you have a choice.” Alex placed both hands against the mantle, caging her in. Penelope was literally caught between the fire in the grate and the fire in his eyes.
He leaned in close. “You. Do. Not.”
Penelope opened her mouth to argue further.
“You are already getting punished for running away. Open your mouth to cross me again and I will double it.”
Punished? Did he truly mean to punish her? Penelope felt overwhelmed. He was correct on one score. She had no choice, at least not right at this moment. Badger had plenty of friends. It would only be a matter of time before word spread she was a female. She needed a place to hide out till she thought of plan. Besides, he could not possibly be serious about marrying a guttersnipe dipper like her. It was just a ploy to get between her legs.
“Fine,” she said weakly.
Alex chucked her under the chin and stepped away. She wasn’t fooling him for a moment, but she would learn.
“Fine, Papa,” he corrected.
“Papa?” she repeated, confused.
“You will address me as Papa.” He paused. “Say it.”
Unsure, she slowly relented. “Papa.”
Alex smiled; he loved hearing that name on her lips.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” Alex called.
A short, stout woman entered. She was dressed in a crisp blue dress and a white apron so stiff it looked like it would crack. She was far from attractive; a more accurate descriptor for this woman would have been ‘handsome.’
“Nanny is here to take you in hand. You need a bath and a good cleansing. I will see you later, for the punishment I promised.”
Before Penelope could object, the strong woman grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her out of the study.
CHAPTER NINE
The Nanny
Nanny pulled a resisting Penelope up the stairs and down the hall to the nursery.
“Stop! Where are you taking me?” screamed Penelope as she strained against the woman’s harsh grip.
“Why, to the nursery,” responded Nanny matter-of-factly, “where little girls belong.” She opened a door and pushed Penelope through.
Nanny greeted the maid waiting patiently inside. “I see Smither was thoughtful enough to send you to help me.”
“Yes, Nanny,” responded Rose, staring in wonder at the urchin in rags who was hissing and scratching at Nanny’s grip.
“Very good. First we must get our charge out of these dirty clothes.”
At that moment, Penelope broke free and ran across the room. Picking up the first object she could find - a doll - she began swinging it by its feet in a wide arch.
“Back off you haybag! I don’t know what kind of flummut flam this is but you won’t get the gammon on me!” Penelope backed into a corner, still holding the doll out in front of her like a weapon.
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Rose as her cheeks pinked at the strange vulgar language. “Nanny, what on earth is she saying?”
“Never mind the nonsense she is spouting,” said Nanny as she slowly rolled up the sleeves of her uniform. “This little girl is no match for the two of us. She will learn not to mouth off soon enough.”
Nanny approached Penelope like a general going into battle. She went right while motioning Rose to flank left.
In short order, Nanny had dispatched the doll and had a struggling Penelope firmly by one arm. Rose grabbed the other. With her free hand, Nanny gripped the collar of Penelope’s boyish attire and ripped downward. The threadbare material gave easily. Nanny did the same to the back, leaving Penelope’s coat in tatters, hanging limply.
Penelope pulled at her arms and tried to kick their shins. “Get off me…you…you…mollisher! No! No!”
Nanny ignored her outbursts. “Let’s get her on the changing table, Rose. Once we have her strapped down we will remove the rest.”
Penelope’s slight, undernourished frame was no match for the robust Nanny and her strong helper. Soon, she was placed facedown on a high padded table. A stiff leather belt was placed over her shoulder blades and buckled tight. Rose grabbed both Penelope’s arms and stretched them out, buckling her wrists to the top edge of the table.
“Grab a leg and a strap, Rose.” Nanny bent Penelope’s leg till her toes touched her bottom. She then wrapped another stiff leather strap around her thigh and calf close to the ankle. Rose did the same to her other leg.
Nanny looked at her charge with satisfaction. “Trussed like a Christmas goose!”
Rose giggled. “She looks like that awful frog dish the Frenchies eat!”
Penelope continued to curse and scream but they paid her no mind as they cut the rest of the clothes and chest bindings off her.
“Rose, go prepare the enema solution.”
Nanny grabbed Penelope by the chin and tilted her head back. “We will have no more of your nonsense. You need a good thorough cleansing and I cannot have you shifting about.”
“I don’t want an enema,” whined Penelope. She had heard horror stories from fellow pickpockets and urchins on the street about the enemas they received in the orphanages and workhouses.
Nanny snapped back, “You have no choice.”
Penelope was tired of being told she had no choice. She started to struggle again, raising her bottom and shaking the table.
Nanny had had enough. She whipped out the leather tawse she always kept in her apron pocket. Penelope had no warning before feeling the sharp sting on her vulnerable bottom.
“Ten to get your attention and another ten to keep it.”
Nanny was relentlessly efficient, focusing all her blows on the soft underside of Penelope’s bottom cheeks.
Each crack of the tawse caused a shock of pain which only got worse as her bottom heated under the blows. Penelope cried and begged, but Nanny did not stop till the task at hand was completed.
Looking at the cherry red bottom of her well-punished charge, Nanny told Penelope once again. “You will have your enema and you will be a good girl about it or you will get another twenty on your little bottom.”
A sobbing Penelope woefully nodded.
Nanny grabbed an unfamiliar object off a nearby table and held it up for Penelope to see. It was a large brass cylinder with a wooden handled plunger on one end and a nozzle on the other.
“This a Clyster syringe enema. His lordship is old school, none of those new-fangled rubber bulb enemas for his little one,” she announced proudly as Penelope stared open-mouthed at the evil looking device.
Rose brought over a basin filled with warm soapy water and placed it on the same table. Nanny placed the nozzle of the syringe into the water and pulled back on the plunger. The cylinder filled up with two quarts of water.
“Rose, please grease the nozzle wi
th lubricant, careful to not use too much,” admonished Nanny. Rose acknowledged her understanding and gripped the nozzle, smoothing a dollop of lubricant over the tip and shaft. “Very good.”
Nanny moved to stand at the other end of the table between Penelope’s awkwardly strapped down legs. Penelope whimpered as Rose moved to join her. Now that both women were out of her line of vision, she had no way of knowing what they were going to do to her until it happened.
Nanny nodded to Rose, indicating she should spread open Penelope’s bottom cheeks. Rose placed her fingers inside the seam between Penelope’s cheeks and pulled them wide apart. Her fingers bit into Penelope’s already heated flesh, causing more stinging pain.
Penelope gave out a startled cry as her little bottom hole clenched tight in fear. It was humiliating to feel the cold burst of air in such a hidden secret place, knowing both women were staring at her there.
“Very good, Rose,” smiled Nanny approvingly. With a much sterner voice, she addressed Penelope, “Now had you been a good girl, I would have massaged your little back passage to prepare it for the nozzle. Since you were such a naughty girl your poor bottom will have to take the nozzle unprepared. Remember this in a few days when you get your next cleansing.”
Penelope groaned at the thought this humiliation would be a regular occurrence in this household. She braced herself for the intrusion, forcing her bottom hole as tightly closed as she could. It was to no avail.
Nanny placed the stiff brass shaft against Penelope’s back passage. Although tapered, the long nozzle had no other give. Penelope hissed in pain as the nozzle breached her sensitive ring and slowly pushed deep inside of her. The thin, six inch nozzle met little resistance as it worked its way up her bottom. Penelope whimpered and squirmed but her movements were severely restrained by the straps, and also her reluctance to receive another harsh punishment from Nanny.
As the top of the warm brass cylinder enema syringe touched against her even warmer bottom cheeks, Nanny prepared Penelope for the next step.
“When I push down on the plunger, it will force the warm, soapy water deep into your bowels. The beauty of the Clyster syringe is that the enema solution will be pushed into your body with great deal more pressure, making it much more effective to my mind.”
Nanny firmly grasped the wooden plunger handle and pushed. Penelope immediately felt a rush of warm water enter her resisting body. She broke out into a flushed sweat as the pressure increased, her stomach cramping.
“You see, Rose. Our little charge will be in a great deal more distress as she lies flat on her stomach than she would be were she on her knees. The weight of her body is pressing down on the table while the increasing amount of water in her abdomen is pressing up. Isn’t that true, Dearie?” asked Nanny of Penelope.
Penelope’s only response was to groan.
“Please…Nanny….please make it stop,” begged Penelope through clenched teeth as her bowels constricted painfully against the soapy water intrusion.
“We must cleanse all the nastiness of the London streets out of you,” responded Nanny by way of explanation. “After this we will rinse you out and do at least two more enemas to be certain you are clean.”
Penelope broke down into sobs.
Over an hour later, a weak and exhausted Penelope was lifted onto the changing table by Rose and Nanny. This time she was placed on her back. She had endured three very painful enemas. Her whole body felt bruised, inside and out.
“Strap her down over her waist, if you please, Rose,” commanded Nanny, “and her wrists above her head.”
“Please don’t strap me down, Nanny,” whimpered Penelope. “I promise I will be good.”
“Oh, Dearie, it is for your own good,” said Nanny as she patted Penelope’s flushed cheek. “This next part is going to be painful.”
Nanny vigorously stirred something in a small bowl held over a candle flame. She added lemon juice and a splash of water.
Rose curiously looked over Nanny’s shoulder. “What is that?”
“It is a recipe for removing hair, taught to me by an old Chinaman. Once the sugar, lemon and water firm into a nice paste, we will press it to our little one’s cunny to remove all that unwanted hair.”
“What? You’re both mad as hops! You can’t do that!” cried Penelope, pulling at the binds that secured her wrists.
“Hush, now,” scolded Nanny. “Your Papa wants you to have a nice smooth cunny and a nice smooth cunny you shall have!”
Nanny rolled the mixture into a ball between her palms. She then placed the ball at the top of a restrained Penelope’s cunny. Nanny pressed down on the mixture till it was spread in a thin line down the seam of Penelope’s exposed cunny. “Now Dearie, I want you to take a nice deep breath and hold it.”
A fearful Penelope did as she was told. Nanny placed a firm hand on her stomach. She grabbed the end of the cooled mixture and tore it upwards.
Penelope’s tortured scream bounced off the walls of the nursery. It felt like her skin had been stripped to the bone. The whole area burned with throbbing pain.
Nanny inspected her work. She smiled when she saw smooth pink skin where downy hair used to be. “Very good. A few more strips and your cunny will be all pink and pretty for Papa.”
Rose wiped Penelope’s brow with a cool cloth as Nanny reapplied the awful warm sugar mixture again and again to her poor cunny. Penelope’s entire existence centered on the torment radiating from between her legs down to her bottom. The whole area pulsed with heated pain.
“Alright Dearie, you can cease your caterwauling. We are all finished. Honestly, you would have thought I was whipping you, you screamed so,” huffed Nanny indignantly. “Well if this is how you respond to a simple cleansing, then I fear you are in for a very long night once you receive your punishment.”
An aghast Penelope stared at the woman. “This wasn’t my punishment?” He had threatened her with punishment for running away, Penelope had assumed these women were sent to dole it out.
“Heavens no child,” laughed Nanny. “Your Papa will administer that once you are fed and bathed.”
Penelope, distracted by her own wracking sobs, gave no resistance when Nanny and Rose hustled her into the bathing chamber where a warm bath awaited. Her only thought was on what her punishment awaited later that evening when she was once again alone with the man she was told to call ‘Papa’.
CHAPTER TEN
Punishment
Alex wandered out of his study in search of Smither. He didn’t need anything in particular from the butler other than companionship. He felt restless, knowing Nanny was upstairs cleansing Penelope. The knowledge that she would soon be ready for her first punishment was driving him out of his mind. He needed a distraction.
As he walked into the parlor, he was greeted by the site of a pale, bare bottom thrust into the air as its owner lay slung over the padded seat of an armless chair. Smither was standing over her, holding a feather duster. As always, Smither was going to provide him with entertainment he thought with a smile.
“What have we here?” he asked.
“My lord,” said Smither by way of greeting. His demeanor far more formal than the scene should allow. “Did you require something?”
“Perhaps the easing of my curiosity, Smitty?” answered Alex as he looked once more on the raised bottom of one of his housemaids.
“Ah, yes,” responded Smither with a small bow. “Daisy here took exception to my selecting Rose to assist the new nanny with the little miss’ bath. In a fit of pique she chose to throw down her feather duster. I am about to place it where she is less likely to…ahem…drop it, shall we say?”
This was just the type of distraction Alex needed. “A just punishment, indeed,” he stated as he took the seat opposite poor Daisy, allowing him an unobstructed view. “Carry on.”
Kneeling behind a whimpering Daisy, Smither placed the point of the feather duster between her legs. Daisy gave a start when she felt the cool wood against h
er warm cunny. The handle of the duster was long and tapered, with a series of ridges that allowed for grip. The eight inch handle widened to close to two inches as it neared the feather base.
Smither ran the handle along the seam of her cunny. While this was a punishment, he knew Daisy became aroused from pain. He would not need any additional lubricant. Satisfied the handle was coated in enough of her juices, he placed the tip against her rosebud.
Daisy gave out a cry when the thin tip easily pushed inside of her. Smither kept up the steady pressure, watching as her bottom swallowed the handle inch by inch. About halfway up the handle widened dramatically, Daisy felt a sharp bite of pain as her tight musclular ring was forced over a ridged groove.
“Please, Sir! I’ve learned my lesson. I can’t take no more!” she cried.
“You will take it all, Daisy.”
Smither gripped her hip and pushed harder against her resisting back passage. Daisy sobbed in earnest as seven inches of the hard wood was shoved up her bottom. Her stomach started to clench and cramp at the foreign intrusion. Smither gave the handle a full twist before thrusting the final inch in deep. Daisy screeched and gripped the legs of the chair harder.
Alex rose to inspect Smither’s handiwork. She looked like a strange bird with her butt cheeks hugging the plumage from the feather duster. It actually gave Alex an idea for his little one.
“Nicely done, Smither.”
“Thank you, my lord,” answered Smither. “There is a second half to the punishment,” he said discreetly.
Catching the hint, Alex left the parlor.
“Come here my exotic little bird,” said Smither as he unbuttoned his trousers. “It is time for your feeding.”
She would have to misbehave more often, thought Daisy with a smile as she opened her mouth like a good birdie.
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Nanny led a naked and trembling Penelope by her upper arm into the master suite. Looking about the familiar room, she noticed a new piece of furniture placed in front of the fire. Nanny led her straight to the imposing piece.