by Ava Sinclair
Penelope managed a smile. “Of course I can,” she said. “But a governess?” Her eyes welled with tears. “My maid…”
“…understood completely.” Alton finished Penelope’s sentence for her and then took her hand, placing it the large, outstretched hand of the portly governess.
The governess cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind my saying so, a fit of nerves over a sudden change is often a health problem. When was her last cleansing?”
“She’s not had one,” Alton replied.
The governess’ face was one of shock. “Not had one?” she said. “That won’t do! The thorough and regular cleansing of a young lady’s bottom is most important to her health and attitude!”
“Alton…” Penelope began but when she saw the governess’ expression, she quickly corrected herself. “Papa, no. I don’t need…”
“Nonsense,” he said. “Nurse Ryan is right.” Lord Westcott nodded to the governess. “It’s off the nursery quarters. The butler will show you up. I’ll be up, too. To supervise.”
“Come along, child.” Nurse Ryan, obviously satisfied with the situation, turned, pulling Penelope after her. As they left, she glanced back mournfully. Lord Westcott watched the door shut behind them.
Being a papa was going to have its difficult moments, he realized. But he told himself he had to do what was in his little one’s best interest.
Chapter Twelve: Her One and Only
Wasn’t it what she wanted? She’d said so herself. She’d asked her husband to return her to status as his ward. She’d been stripped of control, and now lived entirely by his leave.
In the parlor, when he’d given her leave to call him papa, her pussy had throbbed in response. Papa. To submit herself to a man at this level gave Penelope a delicious thrill, but there was also fear now. She’d envisioned all the control she’d longed to feel coming from her husband, not from someone else. But Lord Westcott handed it over now to this tall, broad woman with hands nearly as large as his own.
Her first glimpse at the beautiful nursery was not with her husband by her side, but a stranger.
“Your papa must love you very much to fashion such a room,” the new governess said. “I’ve worked in many a house, and have never seen so fine a nursery.”
Penelope walked around, marveling at the beauty of it. It was another surprise, these quarters that encouraged her to immerse herself in a world of safety, order, and care.
“There will be a strict schedule now,” the nurse was saying as she fussed about the room tidying things that didn’t need to be tidied. “You’ll arise at eight, take breakfast at 8:30, and be dressed to meet your papa at nine.”
“He and I always have breakfast together at eight,” Penelope said.
“Not anymore. I don’t believe women in your arrangement should take meals with adults unless invited. Time with your papa will be scheduled. When he is busy, you will be instructed on moral matters.” Nurse Ryan walked over to a carpetbag she’d brought with her and opened it.
“I have several books here on proper comportment for young ladies. You’ll be required to read and recite passages from these books. I also have several maple paddles and will not hesitate to warm your naughty bottom.”
Penelope blanched. Moral instruction? Spankings? From someone other than her husband? She wanted to tell Nurse Ryan that she had no desire for such training, but Lord Westcott entered the room before she could speak.
“So, is my little one all settled in?” he asked. He was smiling broadly, and Penelope’s heart leapt just to see him. As she saw the way he looked proudly around the room, she realized that all he was doing—the nursery, the governess—was his way of giving her the life she wanted, the life they both wanted. She had to make the best of it, she told herself. For him.
She smiled back. “Yes,” she said. “The room is beautiful… papa. I love it.”
“And I love you,” he said.
“Enough of that,” the nurse barked, drawing the attention of the couple. “I’ve been telling little Lady Penelope what to expect now that I’m her governess. It will be a strict regimen for her, with two hours of education a day on morality and comportment. She’ll be well spanked if she defies me. Bedtime is with the close of day, unless you request her presence.”
Lord Westcott was quiet for a moment. “Well,” he said. “It seems you are most thorough, Nurse Ryan.”
“And of course, there’s the cleansings,” the nurse continued. “Those will be done weekly, starting now. Come along, both of you. Lord Westcott, if you’d like to disrobe your wife, I’ll prepare the cleansing mixture.”
“Papa, please,” she asked when the large woman walked into the room off the bedchamber. “I don’t want my bottom cleansed.”
“You heard your governess,” he said. “It’s for your health. You’re not going to defy me so soon, are you?”
“No, papa,” she said quietly.
His fingers deftly worked the buttons as he spoke and soon Penelope was naked. But her heart fell again when her husband walked her into the room off the bedchamber. The imposing nurse had hung a bag of fluid from a stand by the table across from the bathtub. She was rolling up the sleeves of her dress, her expression one of efficient purpose. Penelope blinked back tears. She knew what was coming, but did not want this stern woman to touch her bottom.
“Help your little one up on the table and we’ll begin,” the governess said, turning to unloop a coil of tubing that hung from the bag. On the end was a tapered nozzle already glistening with some sort of lubricant. “Face down,” she added. “Bum in the air.”
Once beside the table, Penelope was too nervous to move, but she didn’t have to. Alton lifted her up and turned her over to get her in position. She was glad her face was turned away so that he could not see the tears pooling in her eyes.
“Nurse Ryan.” Lord Westcott had walked over to the other side of the table. Penelope held her position so as not to disobey, but listened as he spoke. “I would like to administer the cleansing myself.”
Penelope’s heart leapt at the words. As embarrassed as she was, it was somehow comforting to think of her husband doing this rather than the scary governess. But Nurse Ryan was resistant.
“Whatever for? This is a governess’ job. It’s unheard of!”
“Are you in my employ, Nurse Ryan?”
For a moment there was silence before she reluctantly answered, “Of course.”
“Then guide me as I give my little one a cleansing.”
The hand Penelope felt pulling aside one cheek was not the cold, broad hand of a stranger, but the strong, warm hand of the man she loved. Abject fear turned to apprehension laced with forbidden excitement as his deep voice urged her to relax. He began to work the greased nozzle into her bottom hole, pressing gently against the urging of the nanny to simply push it in. When it was finally seated, Penelope looked back to see Alton following the nurse’s direction to open a little valve on the bag hanging from the pole.
“Oh!” she cried as a rush of warm liquid began flowing into her. She bit her lip as she imagined how she must look to him, her bottom hiked up and plugged with the nozzle, her pussy underneath now starting to throb and glisten with arousal in spite of what was happening to her. The touch of his hand, the sound of his voice, the pressure building inside her, her helplessness to what was happening—it was all combining to reinstate the feelings that had fled as soon as the governess had taken charge.
Nurse Ryan was instructing Lord Westcott to remove the nozzle now. Penelope felt it slide out and groaned. Her bowels had started to churn, and she looked back, fearful that she may not be able to hold in the contents of the enema. But her papa saved her by pushing a lubricated plug into her bottom. He leaned over, whispering that she was such a good girl as his hands gently massaged her stomach.
“When this is over, I’ll give you your privacy,” he said. “You can empty yourself and then you’ll feel cleaner and so much better. Won’t that be nice? Oh,
my little one. You’re making your papa so proud.” His hands were still on her bottom, running up and down the seam of her cheeks and then lower to brush her shaved pussy. Penelope shuddered with need, the juxtaposed feelings of discomfort and arousal playing out inside her.
A sheen of sweat broke out along her naked back. She felt both flushed and cold and dug her short nails into the thin mattress of the examining table.
“I have to go!” The words were strained as she spoke them.
“Ask properly,” he said, and her pussy clenched.
“Please, papa. I have to go.”
“Good girl.” Alton removed the plug and helped Penelope down. A chamber pot sat on a low bench. He led her to it.
“Nurse Ryan, I’d like a word with you while my little one relieves herself.”
This time, Penelope was happy to see him go. He was right; after she’d released the contents of the enema she felt much lighter and cleaner. But dread filled her heart once again when a moment later the nurse came back in.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and back to your papa,” the older woman said tersely. “And then I suppose I’ll be on my way.”
“On your way?” Penelope wasn’t sure she’d heard right.
“Yes,” Nurse Ryan said, her face grim. “It seems that I am not a good fit here after all.” She grumbled something under her breath. “Let go no sooner than I began, it seems. At least it’s with good pay, though. Stand up!”
Penelope obeyed, relief flooding through her as Nurse Ryan helped her into a fresh gown and affixed a bow in her hair. “I suppose I’ll have to return to Dr. Baker until I can find another assignment.” Taking Penelope by the arm, the brusque woman led her from the room.
“I’m off,” Nurse Ryan said, lifting her carpetbag from the floor and walking away. “Good day, young lady.”
Penelope watched her go and then sank into a nearby chair, wondering what had just happened. Had she somehow offended the woman? She’d tried to obey; even though she didn’t want the governess, she’d tried not to make it so obvious. She’d obviously failed, she thought miserably. Was her husband going to be angry with her now?
The door opened then and Penelope wasn’t surprised to see Alton. But she was exceedingly nervous in the wake of what had just happened.
“Nurse Ryan left,” she said.
“I know.” He shut the door.
Penelope was quiet for a moment. “Did I do something wrong? If I did…”
“No.” He walked over to her and tilted up her chin. “No, my little dear. You did not. I did.”
“You?”
He pulled a chair over and sat down beside her. Taking her hands, he looked into her eyes.
“Sometimes, you don’t see a situation clearly until you’re in it. I brought Nurse Ryan here to give you the constant structure and oversight you deserve—the kind your heart and body craves. But as I watched her with you, as I saw your reaction, I realized something—something wonderful. You don’t want that from anyone else, do you? You only want it from me.”
Tears of happiness slipped from Penelope’s eyes. He did understand, after all!
“Are you very disappointed?” she asked.
“Disappointed?” He chuckled. “My dear, I am as relieved as you are. I realized as soon as she told you to disrobe that I could not abide having someone under my roof touching you daily, spanking you, or otherwise tending to your little bottom. You belong to me, and I have discovered myself possessive of you.”
“But how did you know?”
“I could see you try to be good,” he said. “But you were trembling. And when you were up on the table, your little pussy did not respond until I touched you. Your body cries out for control, but from only one person. I am so pleased to be that man, your one and only.” He leaned over and kissed her gently. “And besides,” he continued as he broke the kiss. “I realized that Nurse Ryan, for all her efficiency, was far too much like the stern nuns who ruled over you at the convent. In fact, I believe Betsy may have figured as much and tried to warn me.”
Penelope brightened. “Does this mean…” Her eyes and voice were full of hope.
Lord Westcott smiled. “Yes,” he said. “You may have Betsy back as your maid. I trust you’ll be good enough to not need someone to mind you all the time.”
“Oh, I promise I’ll be very good,” she said. “And Betsy is so like a sister to me, even if she is a maid. I never had a sister, you know. And I do love her.” Penelope threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “You have made me so very happy.”
Chapter Thirteen: Downstairs Revisited
“Her ladyship’s maid?” The valet lifted the curtain of red hair from Betsy’s shoulder and dropped a kiss on the white skin. “Who’d have thought such a hot little piece would procure that position permanently?”
“Oh, really?” Betsy turned to the handsome young man whose hands now moved to her waist, even if his eyes remained fixed on the bountiful breasts with light pink nipples. “And this coming from a valet to his lordship with as keen a taste for pleasure as my own.”
He pulled her roughly to him. “Now, now, my sweet Betsy,” he said. “We both know what’s fine for the gander is not fine for the goose. Men are allowed their dalliances. It’s frowned upon for women.”
“Not in this house,” Betsy said. “In fact, I believe it may have helped me secure my position as a proper maid. In fact, I think my example brought the two of them together.” She giggled. “His lordship so much as told me so.”
“Well, now that he’s promoted you, you’ll need to be thinking of other ways to be a proper maid.” Tom moved his hands up to cup her breasts. “I’ve loved our adventures, sweet Betsy. I’ve had you alone and with a friend. But I grow jealous of sharing you, my sweet. I want to make you mine.”
“Do you now?” she asked, a saucy smirk on her face as her heart pounded at his words. “Well then, Tom, perhaps you should take a leaf from his lordship’s book.”
The valet spun her around, forcing her to grasp the iron railing of the footboard.
“And how so?” Tom ran his hand across the rise of Betsy’s ample bottom cheeks and then between her thighs, his fingers playing now in the damp red curls. She pushed back against him and smiled.
“Well,” she said. “It seems a woman only truly loves the man who masters her. Only that man can tame her, and it matters not whether she’s lady or maid.”
“Is that so?” Tom raised his hand and brought it down on Betsy’s wide bottom. She cried out and then moaned as he rubbed away the light imprint of his palm that had started blooming on her fair skin. “I’ve long suspected that this is the case with you, which is why I’ve secretly fallen in love with you. But it will take a fair amount of discipline to tame such a bold and adventurous girl as you, my headstrong Betsy.”
“Indeed it will.” She looked back at him, but her eyes had softened, for while she was a lusty woman indeed, her happy-go-lucky heart had been Tom’s all along. He’d always been the kindest of her lovers, the one she pictured when she was alone and there was no one to soothe the ache between her legs.
She’d never thought of settling down with just one man. Given her open enjoyment of sex, she thought no man would want her. That this man did thrilled her—and all the more because he was doing and saying all the right things to increase her longing for him.
“I’ll tame you all right,” he said. “His lordship’s not the only one capable of playing master. I may not have a title or lands, but I’ll cherish and protect you as surely as if you were a lady. But I’ll guide you, too, sweet Betsy. You’ve been allowed to run wild too long. You need the feel of a man’s hand on your bottom, not just for pleasure, but for honest correction. You need to learn to mind, and that will take a man who can give you patient, consistent correction. And this…”
He pushed into Betsy then, and although she was more than slick, the fullness of his cock thrilled her. It felt different now, with the tall, elegant valet leaning ove
r and whispering in her ear that it was time she settled down, as his wife, with him. It felt better, right.
“No more roaming for you, my kitten,” he said, pulling his cock nearly out of her before thrusting back in. “From now on, you’re one woman for just one man. And I intend to drive thoughts of all others from your mind. And from what you’ve told me of his lordship’s unique relationship to Lady Penelope, won’t it be nice to relate to her, knowing you face the same thing at home…” He thrust into her again, hard. “With me?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, Tom!” She was pushing back against him now, her heavy breasts bouncing, her lush curves warm and soft under her lover’s hands. Betsy’s pussy gripped Tom’s cock tightly; the contractions now drew moans that mingled with hers as the pair continued to consummate their new relationship.
When they came, Betsy felt more than the usual release. She felt claimed, fulfilled, and happy. And when Tom gently raised her to standing and turned to enfold her in his arms, she smiled. She now had her own handsome guardian. Her ladyship had been right; happy endings were possible for everyone.
Epilogue
Eight months later
“Part your legs.” Lord Westcott raised his gaze from the glass in his hand to study his wife’s position. She was leaning over the sofa, but her stance, in his opinion, was wanting. “Wider.”
She looked back, her expression a mixture of saucy defiance and lust.
“Wider,” he repeated. “Or do I need to redden your bottom again?”
This time Lady Penelope Westcott obeyed, spreading her legs to better expose herself to his view. Between her thighs, her bare pussy lips were forced slightly apart by the engorged folds of flesh dripping with arousal. Above, the rosebud of her bottom twitched in anticipation of his touch.
He smiled. That this was the same woman who’d prepared to take vows of celibacy less than a year earlier seemed impossible to fathom. Since sinking himself into her lush body, he’d had no desire for any other. Ever curious and nearly insatiable, Penelope was all he would ever need.