Shelley’s cheeks flushed at her mother’s declaration and she averted her eyes to the hairbrush that rested menacingly on the table.
“No,” Shelley screamed as her mother lifted the device into her hand and reached for her wrist. Lady Annabelle’s strength surprised the girl as she was dragged across the room. Her mother maintained a tight grip on her arm as she yanked a straight-backed chair away from the table, sat down, and glanced up at her daughter.
Shelley had never seen her so angry. “Mother, I’m sorry. I’ll go to my room now,” she implored.
Lady Annabelle shook her head. “You had your chance earlier, but you chose to be disobedient.”
“I can’t believe that you think I am mature enough to get married, but still admonish me as if I were no more than a small child!” Shelley protested angrily, unable to break free of the iron grip of her mother’s fingers.
Lady Annabelle did not respond verbally, instead effortlessly tugging the abashed young woman unceremoniously across her lap. Shelley threw her hands out, fearing she might topple to the floor, and struggled desperately as her mother angled her forward so her hands touched the carpet beneath her head, and her legs dangled helplessly behind. Shelley kicked frantically, her distress growing as her mother raised her knee and tipped her further across the maternal lap.
“Shelley, you are to calm down this minute,” her mother ordered, giving her bottom a sharp slap. Shelley temporarily ceased her struggles and froze in place. “Your father is absolutely furious with you. It was his intention to spank you himself, which would be a good deal more painful and humiliating than a spanking from me, young lady.”
Shelley recalled the single stinging spank from her father and shook her head, unable to imagine the embarrassment and pain in receiving a proper spanking from a man. She was grateful that her mother ordinarily did not spank very hard, and that she suffered more humiliation than pain. She also knew she could conclude the punishment if she made a show of crying. She was concerned, however, about that lethal hairbrush in her mother’s hand.
“If you know what’s good for you,” Lady Annabelle scolded, “you’ll be obedient and accept this well-deserved spanking without any fuss. If you don’t behave, your father will be coming in and taking over. Do I make myself clear, missy?”
“No, Mother, please! You can’t do this to me. Let me go,” she begged as she pushed against the floor in an attempt to rise from her undignified position.
“Shall I call your father in?”
“No, please don’t!” Shelley pleaded, as her struggles to escape her indignity increased. It was unnerving to think her mother would consider handing her over to her father, and Shelley vowed she would not make that unthinkable action necessary.
“I’ve had enough of this nonsense. I told you to keep still. Your father has told me time and time again that I have spoiled you. Well, let me tell you, madam, it stops right now!” Lady Annabelle scolded. She cracked her palm down firmly on Shelley’s squirming bottom. Shelley yelped, immediately stopping her writhing.
“We can only hope the duke knows how to effectively deal with a badly behaved young lady,” her mother told her, as she held her across her lap and rested the hairbrush atop her daughter’s clenched buttocks. Shelley quivered, her hopes that her mother would not use the brush suddenly abandoned.
She felt the brush lift away from her bottom and tightly screwed her eyes shut. Her mother brought it down quickly and sharply on the centre of her right buttock, and Shelley screeched in pain. It was worse than she could have imagined!
“Mother, let me go now!” Shelley pleaded. “I’ll marry the duke tomorrow, if that’s what you really want.”
“We both know that you will agree to anything to escape this spanking, young lady. No, the lesson of obedience will be learned this time.”
Lady Annabelle tightened her grip around her daughter’s waist and cracked the brush against her bottom again, this time viciously stinging her left cheek. Shelley screamed “no more” and squirmed frantically in an attempt to break free.
“Not this time, my darling daughter. If I’d ignored your pathetic cries and given you the spankings you’ve deserved over the years, it would not be necessary for me to be so harsh with you now,” Lady Annabelle scolded as she continued to smack the brush down firmly on Shelley’s wriggling bottom. “This is for your own good. You’ll thank me one day.” Shelley doubted that very much.
She whimpered in pain and kicked her legs, tears smarting her eyes. Desperate to find some way to make her mother stop, Shelley released a breath of relief as, after two more stinging swats, Lady Annabelle dropped the brush onto the coffee table with a clatter. “I’m sorry,” Shelley sobbed, snatching the opportunity to try to stand. She was still held tightly and her heart sunk as she slumped dejectedly across her mother’s lap.
“Oh no, honey, we’re not finished yet. Stay right where you are. I’m not wasting my energy spanking your skirts.” Lady Annabelle grasped the hem of Shelley’s dress and swiftly tugged it up to lay it against her back.
“Nooooo,” Shelley yelled, her energetic struggles recommencing.
“Hold still, you disobedient girl,” Lady Annabelle scolded, slapping Shelley’s thighs sharply over her petticoats. Shelley shrieked and kicked her legs, the sting much sharper on the more tender flesh of her legs.
“This is your final warning. If I get any more nonsense from you,” Lady Annabelle said with frustration, “I’ll hold you down over the dining room table and invite your father to strap your bare bottom. That’ll quickly bring you to your senses, young lady, and it’ll be no more than you deserve.”
Shelley reluctantly settled down, more fearful of her father than her present predicament. She covered her face with her hands as her mother lifted her petticoats out of the way and unfastened her bloomers. When told to raise her hips, Shelley shamefully complied after a few seconds’ hesitation, whimpering as her undergarment slid down her long, slim legs.
The cool air brushed against her bare bottom and thighs, and Shelley shivered. “I’m sorry, Mother, please don’t. I’ll be good, I promise. Please, no more. I’m begging you,” she pleaded, her anxiety increasing as her mother showed no sign of mercy.
“This will be one lesson you will never forget, daughter. Plead as you must, but you have earned every stroke you receive this day.”
Petrified, Shelley resorted to begging for her mother to release her, promising that she would never be naughty again and would obey anything she was told to do. Her mother remained silent and held her in position, shaking her head unsympathetically.
“Are you quite finished?” she asked. “These crocodile tears won’t work this time. Maybe if I’d spanked you harder and more often when you misbehaved, you might not have such foolish notions about cancelling a wedding that has taken months to plan. A wedding made to provide you with a lifetime of comfort and security. What a selfish girl you are. That truly saddens me. You should be ashamed of yourself to have to be spanked on the eve of your wedding by your mother.”
Lady Annabelle rested her hand on her daughter’s bare bottom and patted gently. Shelley squirmed fearfully and lowered her head. She gritted her teeth, reluctantly accepting that nothing would stop what was about to happen. Shuddering, she found herself unable to imagine how horrible it would be for her father to take over and strap her. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted when her mother’s hand smacked down firmly on her bare backside, and she braced herself, determined not to let her mother break her will.
For the next few minutes, Lady Annabelle smacked her hand down on her daughter’s quivering cheeks alternately, as Shelley squirmed and whimpered but made no further attempts to escape. Eventually Lady Annabelle’s hand rested gently on the bare bottom perched across her lap, and Shelley breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it had not been too bad after all.
“Shelley,” her mother whispered, as she stroked her slightly pink behind. “I love you. This really is for your own good.”
Turning her head, Shelley gasped as she saw her mother lean forward and pick up the hairbrush.
She immediately shrieked with dismay, her voice reduced to a childlike plea, “No, Mummy!” Lady Annabelle raised the brush high in the air and cracked it down on her upturned bottom, eliciting a pained scream as it sharply struck her right buttock. Shelley kicked her legs, unable to catch her breath when a second stroke smacked her other cheek. Howls of distress rose as her angry mother quickly warmed to her task and cracked the brush from one quivering butt cheek to the other.
Shelley yelped in pain and her legs scissored non-stop in an attempt to escape the searing bites. Her entire bottom gradually turned from pink to a bright cherry red, and her tears flowed freely. The wails of despair had no effect on her mother, who continued to spank in a steady rhythm while holding her distraught daughter firmly in position.
“Bad, naughty girl,” Lady Annabelle chided. “Can you believe it, a young woman, about to be married, having her bare bottom soundly smacked by her mother? Whoever has heard of such a thing?” she mocked.
Shelley sobbed and kicked in mounting distress as she struggled to break her mother’s tight hold and rescue her backside from that awful brush. She had never felt such pain and her alarm grew at her mother’s untiring efforts.
“Mummy, no more,” Shelley squealed pitifully, as she clenched her burning buns and tried to squirm away from the hard wooden implement.
“No more?” said Lady Annabelle. She cracked the hairbrush down on her daughter’s tense behind. “I’ve hardly even begun.”
She adjusted Shelley’s position slightly, shuffled her head further toward the floor, and adjusted her arm tightly around the girl’s waist. Satisfied with the target before her, Lady Annabelle cracked the brush against Shelley’s sit spots in turn. Shelley yelled in agony, her frenzied cries intensifying when her mother stepped up the pace of her spanking and burned her sit spots with a sharp volley of smacks. Shelley wailed and writhed frantically, unable to avoid the relentless, punishing cracks of the hard wood against her stinging ass, her cries falling upon deaf ears.
“Let this be a lesson to you, young lady,” she scolded, as she brought the hairbrush down sharply on the back of her daughter’s tender thighs.
Lady Annabelle continued to crack the brush against Shelley’s butt, despite her daughter’s tearful pleas for leniency. “You should count yourself lucky your father isn’t doing this. You’d have good reason for all this nonsense if he was.” She cracked the brush once more against Shelley’s bright red sit spots before declaring, “Maybe I should hand you over to your father and let him finish you off.”
Shelley wailed in response to the threat and kicked her legs. “Mummy, please, I’m sorry. Please stop.”
Shelley whimpered pathetically as a few more smacks cracked down on each cheek before Lady Annabelle gently rubbed her daughter’s swollen behind with the back of the hairbrush. Shelley sobbed loudly, grateful when her mother finally put the hairbrush down and caressed her burning backside with her hand. At the realisation that her punishment was finally over, Shelley’s crying increased in volume, from both pain and total humiliation at her inability to stop her very vocal reaction.
“It’s all over,” Lady Annabelle soothed. “You can get up now and go to your room. I want you to think long and hard about your behaviour and how it led us to this.”
Shelley pushed herself to her feet, deliberately avoiding her mother’s gaze. Still sobbing, she pulled her clothing into place as tears rolled down her cheeks. As she wiped her eyes with her sleeves, she looked at her mother.
“I am truly sorry I had to do that, but you’ve had it coming for a very long time. You need to learn to do as you’re told, sweetheart,” Lady Annabelle said with regret as she opened her arms to her only child.
Shelley’s embarrassment suddenly turned to anger and she glared at her mother, whose smile quickly faded. “I hate you. I’ll never forgive you for any of this. Never!”
Shelley turned and ran from the door, nearly knocking her father over in the hallway as she hastened to put as much distance as possible between herself and her mother. As she fled, her footsteps on the tiled hallway echoed throughout the house, and Shelley started to sob once more as the motion sent jolts of pain through her stinging behind.
* * *
Closing the door behind him to ensure their privacy, Lord Frederick entered the lounge and cautiously approached his wife. He did not wish to upset her further, but their daughter’s behaviour had been unacceptable. “What on earth was all that about?”
Lady Annabelle looked up at him and shrugged resignedly. “I’m sorry, Frederick. I gave her the spanking we both know she deserves, and she hates me now.”
On impulse, she threw her arms around her husband and broke down in tears. Lord Frederick sat on the recently vacated chair and pulled his wife on his lap. She trembled in his arms, her sorrow pouring from her as she cried into his chest.
“She told me she hates me,” Lady Annabelle wept. “She’ll never forgive me. She told me so.”
Lord Frederick sighed as he looked at his weeping wife, and tried to keep a lid on his temper. His main priority was to calm her heart. “Annabelle, how many times have you said you’ll never forgive me when your bottom is sore? Yet, you always do,” he said calmly. A smile touched the corners of his lips as she gazed into his eyes.
Lady Annabelle nodded, her cheeks pale. “But I’ve never told you I hate you, nor would I ever say such an awful thing.”
Lord Frederick pulled her close. “I was listening at the door, and was pleased that you delivered a memorable lesson to our daughter’s behind,” he praised her, rocking her lovingly in his arms. He softly kissed her wet cheek. “Children often speak without thinking.”
“She is to be married. She is no longer a child. Her words…”
“Hush, my darling. When I get hold of that young lady, she is going to wish she had never spoken to you so disrespectfully. I promise that, before this night is over, our daughter will take back those hurtful words. If she does not, then that young madam will not sit comfortably through her reception or honeymoon. I will not permit her to treat you so appallingly.”
Holding her close, he sat in silence and allowed her to cry. Several minutes passed before she calmed herself and permitted him to help her rise to her feet. He guided her protectively up the stairs to their bedroom and laid her upon their bed, where he gently kissed her.
“Try to get some sleep,” he told her, tenderly caressing her cheek. “I’m going to look for Shelley. She’s a headstrong girl and she needs a firm hand, just like her mother does sometimes.” Pleasure adorned his face as his lady’s eyes lit up with love and she returned his smile.
As he kissed his wife softly on the lips and his hands caressed her curves, he pushed thoughts of what he would rather be doing at that moment to the back of his mind. He waited patiently for her to close her eyes and drift off to sleep before he reluctantly left to search for their errant daughter.
Chapter Three
Immediately after Shelley escaped her mother’s clutches, she ran quickly from the house, sobbing pitifully and rubbing her bottom in an attempt to ease the sting of the most painful spanking she had experienced in her young life. Embarrassment that her mother had seen fit to chastise her so thoroughly made her wish to hide away forever. She had been shamed, both from her mother witnessing her desperate struggle and the hearing of her pathetic begging and pleas. Her head spun in disbelief that her mother had humiliated her to such an extreme. She was a grown woman! A grown woman that had been forced across her mother’s lap, her bottom bared, and endured the most childish punishment possible.
Shelley berated herself, distraught that she had been unable to maintain her dignity and had demonstrated nothing but cowardliness throughout her terrible ordeal. Her face flushed at the thought that others, including her father and Dexter, had eavesdropped on her chastisement.
Looking for somewhere quiet,
where she could be alone to brood and lick her wounds, Shelley headed into the stables. Once inside, she launched herself face down on a bale of hay and reached under her skirts to resume rubbing the burn from her backside. Her cries were pitiful, and her self-pity rose in volumes as heat radiated from her tender globes. Exhaustion finally took over and she decided to return to her bedroom where she could grieve in private. She also needed to take some time to decide her next move, now she had no doubt that her parents were unwilling to cancel the wedding.
“Shelley!” She froze as her father’s voice echoed around the yard outside the stable block. “Get your backside into this house right now. You and I need to have a few words, young lady. If you think your mother spanked you hard, think again. What she gave you is nothing to what I’m going to do when I get hold of you. For starters, I’m going to take my belt to your disobedient behind,” he yelled angrily.
Shelley held her breath and stepped back into the stables, slipping into a stall with one of the horses. She ran her fingers through the mare’s mane, whispering gently so as not to startle the animal. She did not want to alert her father to her hiding place, especially when he was so furious. The horse was content with her human companion and stayed silent as Shelley moved soundlessly to the back of the stall. She cowered in the corner and quaked with fear as her father’s footsteps moved closer. Sensing his presence as he paused in the doorway, she peeked between the mare’s legs, biting her lip at the sight of his feet through a gap under the stall gate. She imagined he would be listening very attentively for any sound to give away her whereabouts. Crossing her fingers, she silently prayed he would not find her.
The Delinquent Bride Page 2