An Unacceptable Arrangement (9 page)

She gave a start as she felt his fingers
stroking her there. “He... he aimed repeatedly for that spot,” she
hissed. She wondered what his reaction would be. Would he be
outraged that she’d been struck, angry that her father had birched
his grown daughter? Would he disapprove of the corporal punishment
of females? She got her answer immediately.

“I’m afraid that is necessary in the
disciplining of females,” her new husband murmured. Cassandra had
her answer. It sounded like Frederic was a knowledgeable and
experienced disciplinarian. She now strongly suspected that she
would be bending for correction from him, perhaps even more often
than her father had required. Frederic noted the involuntary
clenching at his implied threat and smiled knowingly.

“Sometimes females are restrained during
correction. Did your father restrain you?” He didn’t think he could
get any harder as she hesitantly confided the details of her
birching to him.

“No... no Sir,” she spoke, in a little girl
voice.

“You were required to hold position during
the entire session?”

“Yes, sir. If I had risen or tried to cover
myself, he would have just started over.”

“You are a very courageous girl. And how many
strokes of the birch were you given?”

“I... I lost count,” she moaned. Her new
husband would think her to be very naughty indeed.

“The two of you were alone, in his study?” he
guessed.

“No my Lord, my mother was there
watching.”

He closed his eyes, letting a small sigh
escape as he envisioned his little wife bent over – a desk, a chair
– bottom bared, submissively awaiting her upcoming chastisement. He
could not wait to have her bow before him and submit to his
discipline. He once again squeezed one of the larger wheals and she
jerked and cried out. He let his fingertips travel over the
landscape of where the twigs had fallen. Even the skin on the
inside of her cheeks, close to her little pucker was marked. She
must have suffered extensively. The birching has been severe.

Frederic helped her to her feet and then
moved a pillow half way down the bed. He arranged his bride over it
so that her colorful bottom was elevated. He placed her hands on
the iron headboard and encouraged her to grab hold of it tightly.
He once again arranged himself between her thighs and leaned
forward running his lips over her welts. She whimpered and squeezed
the headboard, unnerved that her battered behind seemed to be of
such interested to her new husband.

He raised his head. “I have not hurt you,
have I darling?”

She waggled her bottom to his amusement and
whispered, “No... no, Sir,” in response. Frederic was pleased. The
young lady knew to answer when she’d been spoken to and was being
respectful, even under these trying circumstances. He lowered his
head and began once again to trail his lips along the more
pronounced welts.

Cassandra could not keep quiet. She had to
know. “My... my husband?” she asked with trepidation.

Frederic once again raised his head and
replied “Yes, my Dear?”

“The collection in your study - the canes,
the strap, the switches. I could not help notice. What is it all
for?”

Frederic smiled, delighted that she’d asked.
He’d noticed her studying his implements with morbid
fascination.

“They are to keep domestic order, darling
girl. If a servant misbehaves they must be corrected and if a
naughty wife should misbehave she too will bow for correction.
Don’t worry, darling. When circumstances merit correction, I may
allow you to choose which one you’d like to have me use upon
you.

Cassandra’s voice trembled. “I will strive
not to displease you, my Lord so that I will not become acquainted
with any of those items.”

Frederic chuckled and patted her on the
flank. “That is not hardly possible, my darling. I can be a rather
strict taskmaster and have many rules in place that are not to be
broken. I am certain that you will learn at least some of those
rules the hard way.” He grinned as she moaned at this and gave a
wriggle. He began to stroke her flank.

“There, there. Settle down my little filly.
Don’t worry; I will be gentle with you.” Frederic’s new wife was
indeed a Thoroughbred - skittish and highly-strung. He knew that
this one would require a lot of stroking but would no doubt soon be
eating out of his hand. He’d had her lineage traced when he first
noticed her at the tea and found out that she was descended from
Henry VIII himself and further back to Charlemagne. In some ways
she was more royal, more British, than Queen Victoria herself.

Frederic inserted his tongue in her cunny and
tasted her cream. She had become quite stimulated by the discussion
of her naughtiness and the resultant punishment, not to mention his
collection of implements. She tasted exquisite. Frederic raised his
head and tapped her most private opening and she gasped.

“Here too, my love, here too I will one day
claim you and make you mine.” He slowly entered her love tunnel,
leaving the other opening for another time. Cassandra rose to her
knees. “Remember your hands, Cassandra. Don’t let go of the
headboard.” He grabbed her breasts from behind and began to knead
them as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. Cassandra moaned and
pushed back against him over and over, enjoying the friction
igniting between them. She began to pant as he reached around front
and slid his fingers on either side of her clit rubbing it in the
copious juices that were escaping around his shaft as he drove into
her. Cassandra threw her head back and screamed out her pleasure,
which triggered his release and he fell on top of her.

Cassandra spoke in a shaky voice. “I would
say our marriage is well consummated, would you agree my Lord?”
Frederic again laughed as he nuzzled his little wife’s neck.

“I would whole heartedly concur, my love.
There is no doubt; you are really and truly mine.”

Two weeks later
Cassandra sat her in London home looking out the window. She longed
for something to do. She was happy enough in her marriage. She and
her new husband spent a great deal of time in his rooms exploring
the ways of love. There may not have been a wedding trip but they
were definitely on a honeymoon. She sighed with contentment. She
was enjoying getting to know this man she’d been bound to for all
time and eternity. His predictability had become a lifeline to her.
She knew his morning routine and what time he liked to eat and then
leave the house. She knew approximately when he’d return. When he
walked into the house at the end of the workday, her heart would
soar as she looked into his amazing eyes.

She had come to trust his even temperament.
He was not volatile, unlike her father, and so far he had shown an
amazing amount of patience with her moods. Her ups and downs did
not seem to create even a wave in his calm demeanor. They were
actually very well suited to one another, truth be told, although
she’d never admit that to her father.

It was the time alone while he was gone
during the day that she struggled with. She’d read the few books in
the “library” – a bookcase in his study - that were in English.
Most were in German. She had a tutor who came daily to teach her
German and the history of Bavaria but it was slow going. She did
not have a natural aptitude for languages. She struggled with the
accent and was slowly but surely memorizing words. But she feared
she’d give a terrible showing when they reached home. She was
certain that everyone in her new life would think her ignorant and
laugh at her.

Her husband ran a rather tight household and
she was not needed much. At first she’d kept busy with the
needlework project she’d brought from home, but it was quickly and
efficiently finished. Perhaps if she had some more needlework or
learned to crochet, that would be a constructive use of her time.
She could embroider pillowcases or sew her husband’s shirts. She
didn’t want to spend any money though. Their life was far from
lavish. Frederic had never produced wedding rings and there was no
talk of a wedding trip. They frequently ate leftovers. She would
just have to adjust to life with little pocket money. She’d had a
trust fund of her own left to her by her grandmother but she
supposed her father had given it to her husband as part of her
dowry. There was no way to get to it without going through her
husband or her father. She would not have wanted to squander it for
spending money anyway. She would prefer to invest it sensibly.
Cassandra sighed, and then had an idea. Perhaps she could ask her
tutor if she had any unfinished craft projects that she could help
her finish.

More and more frequently the butler would
appear at her elbow with calling cards. She instructed him to turn
away all callers. She was not interested in opening her life up to
gossipmongers, and really she had no answers for the questions they
would ask. She had no amusing stories about how she met her
husband, nor fancy wedding rings to show off. She was not about to
disclose the details of her hurried little wedding and was
embarrassed to admit that there had been no wedding trip. She
certainly did not wish to discuss her brother’s upcoming
wedding.

Then the day came when Helmut stood at her
elbow anxiously explaining that the callers were her mother and her
brother. Cassandra was puzzled. Her parents had wanted her out of
the way and she had strived to remain so, so why were they
attempting to keep in touch? She suspected it had something to do
with her brother’s wedding. It would be socially awkward if she did
not attend. Perhaps they should have thought of that before they
banished her to a foreign country. Oh well, soon people would
forget she was still in residence in London and then she really
would be gone to live in Bavaria. Everyone in her parent’s social
circle would forget that there had even been a fifth child at one
time.

She instructed Helmut to turn them away with
the explanation the Baroness was not accepting callers. Helmut
would soon learn that she was especially trying to avoid her family
members. As far as Cassandra was concerned, her future lay in
Bavaria at her husband’s side. She would reside with his family and
in time they would make new friends, married couple friends.

Cassandra thought little more of the matter
until Frederic called her into his study one evening after dinner.
This was ominous; usually he sat with her in the parlor and enjoyed
crudités and wine before dinner. She was nervous as she climbed the
stairs. What had she done wrong? She wracked her brain but her
conscience was clear. She’d strived to please her demanding
spouse.

She knocked on the door and he called to her
to enter. She walked into the room and found him sitting behind his
desk. As she nervously stood before him, she tried not to stare at
the cane collection on the wall behind his head. She hoped she
would never be called upon to select one of
those
to be used
on her tender posterior. Her bottom had only just fully healed from
her pre-wedding birching.

“My darling,” he began. “It has been brought
to my attention that you are not accepting callers. May I ask
why?”

“Who... who told you that?” Cassandra had
never suffered from a stammer before, but her husband could be
quite intimidating.

“That is not the question here, my wife. The
question is why are you not accepting callers, even your own
family?”

It was her family! Her blasted father must
have told her husband that she’d sent away her mother and her
brother. Now she’d been put into a most difficult position of
honestly telling her husband why she didn’t want to take
callers.

“I... I...” her hands began to twist in her
skirt and her cheeks developed two red spots. “I am trying to put
my past behind me, my husband. I am looking to the future, to our
life in Bavaria.”

“We are not returning to Germany for several
months, Cassandra. And we will return to London often as I attend
to business matters. It would behoove you to maintain your
friendships and to foster good relations with your family here.
Also, you must realize that it shames and upsets your family when
you refuse to see them.”

“I owe nothing to my family!” She was angry
now and stomped her foot.

Frederic raised one eyebrow. He did not
appreciate this show of temper that his little wife was exhibiting
in his presence. “I have accepted a dinner invitation. We will be
going to your family home for dinner this very evening.”

Cassandra felt her anger begin to build. “I
would appreciate your not accepting invitations on my behalf
without consulting with me first. You will have to go dine alone. I
have no intention of ever, ever setting foot in my family home
again.”

Frederic was taken aback. He knew that
Cassandra had left home on their wedding day under less than ideal
circumstances but he didn’t realize that the situation was this
dire. He would question her carefully and get to the bottom of this
but first she needed a reminder of who was the boss in this
household.

“Cassandra, you will obey me and accompany me
to your parent’s house this evening.”

“I won’t!” she cried and turned and ran from
the study. Frederic was appalled. He had not dismissed her. She had
thrown what amounted to a temper tantrum, even raising her voice to
him. She would have to learn that this kind of behavior was not at
all acceptable. He preferred to correct her in the privacy of his
study, which was in a part of the house rarely visited by servants.
However, if she preferred to be disciplined in her bedroom where
various servants would be within earshot, he would be glad to
oblige.

He chose a small, wispy cane and swished it
through the air experimentally. He had last used this cane on a
naughty parlor maid who had ruined a fine table by using the wrong
cleaning solution. The little maid had been scarlet with shame as
she’d been ordered to bare herself to her employer and bend for
correction and she’d squealed and wriggled about like a little
piglet as he’d laid down her stripes. It had been most
satisfactory, and she hadn’t made any careless mistakes like that
again.