Enrolling Little Etta (8 page)

Etta stood stark naked in the lonely bathroom. Papa and Nanny Mae had left her alone, but for what reason? Were they going to discuss what had happened between her and Nanny Mae after her nap?

The door creaked open, and Etta stared at Papa as he stalked into the room, looking displeased.

"Where is Nanny Mae?" she asked.

"Gone." He gave her no hint of anything further.

Etta's brow furrowed and the first hint of tears surfaced in her eyes. She had not been fond of Nanny Mae at first glance, but the woman had worn her down, and she respected her. "Where did she go?"

"That is not for you to worry about," Papa said. "You will have a new nanny looking after you by tomorrow. In the meantime, I am going to take care of you."

Her heart skipped a beat. She would much rather have Papa look after her. "Do I have to have a new nanny?" She'd even be pleased to have Nanny Mae back. She was not so bad, and Etta did not have the slightest clue who else Papa would hire. Would it be someone worse, with harsher discipline and a stricter hand to her bottom?

"Yes, child. I cannot watch over you and the entire chateau without a little help." He kissed the top of her head. "Your fever seems to have broken. Let's get you into your nightgown and climb into bed."

"I am not tired," Etta said, whining. It was nearing dinner time and her stomach grumbled for food. She didn't dare remind him that the bottle had been forgotten.

"Do not disappoint me," Papa said, his tone stern and sharp. He walked into the nursery and found a light pink nightgown for her to wear to bed. "Arms up."

Etta did not fight him. Perhaps if she did as she was told, he'd see that she did not need another nanny, that she could be trusted to be on her own. She was a grown adult, even if he seemed to forget that about her. Lifting her arms into the air, she let him guide the soft pink nightgown over her head and arms.

"Come." Papa guided Etta to the bed and pulled back the covers. "Lie on your tummy," he said, instructing her on what to do.

She climbed atop the mattress, burying her fingers under the pillow as she laid her head down, her bottom facing the ceiling.

"Seeing as you are not ill as we first thought, I think it is best to leave the cold bath away."

"What is wrong with me?" Etta did not understand why she felt so warm. Her quim burned and the clothes felt too hot and restrictive, even just a simple nightgown.

"You are aroused, Etta. Nanny Mae should not have done what she did, but I hear you were a naughty girl, touching yourself. Is that what started it?"

Etta did not answer.

Papa lifted the hem of her gown, exposing her round bottom as his fingers moved over the plush curves. "Naughty girls get paddled."

Etta snapped her head around to study Papa's stern expression. "Paddled?"

Papa reached for the drawer of the dresser beside the bed and opened it. Etta gasped when she watched him pull out a wooden paddle.

"What happened between you and Nanny Mae deserves a punishment. You are not to touch yourself, and you most certainly are not to allow anyone to touch you unless I say so."

Without hesitation, he laid the paddle on her backside so she could feel the cool wood against her heated bare flesh. Etta had never been paddled, but undoubtedly this experience was not one she would enjoy. But before she could plead for mercy or even come up with an escape plan, the paddle raised and then came crashing down on her arse with a stinging blow.

"Ow! Oh, Papa!" Another searing swat landed on her bottom. "It hurts!"

"Yes, my little love, I'm afraid a proper paddling is indeed going to sting."

He continued to paddle her bottom without pause, and Etta could do nothing more but wail in pain. The thud of each spank almost took her breath away, as her papa delivered a paddling she would not soon forget.

"I am so sorry, Papa. I will never do such things again!"

The paddling continued.

"Yes, little Etta, I will make sure of that."

The paddling continued.

"Ow! Ow! I cannot take anymore. I simply cannot!"

The paddling continued.

"I do not like punishing you so harshly," he said as he landed two more swats on each cheek and then stopped. "But it is my duty, as your papa, to do so when it is deserved. You nearly cost a woman her job, Etta. Her livelihood is not a game."

Etta sniffed and tried to dry her tears. She knew she indeed deserved her paddling. Her behavior had not been that of a lady.

Papa put the paddle down and caressed her bottom gently. "Do you understand why you are at the Ashby Chateau, Etta?"

"I am to find a suitable man to marry." That was why her Uncle Jack had sent her away. He did not seem to know anything about girls or young women, so he had pushed her out of the door as fast as she had come into his home.

"You are to learn to submit, Etta. I want you to recognize the power and give it up entirely to me. I am going to claim you as my wife when the time comes, my little love."

Etta swallowed nervously. "You wish to marry me?" Had he lost his mind? She had suspected as much because of the talk from Nanny Mae, but she had pushed it aside and could have sworn that he would never want someone like her.

"Everything about you is perfect, except your submission. Please me, and I will do everything in my power to make you pleased. Now relax," he said. From the corner of her eye, she could see Papa pull out a jar of ointment from the same drawer the paddle had been in, which made her tummy do a flip. His hands came to separate her cheeks before he dipped a single digit into her bottom. "Take it in, imagine it is me inside you."

Softly she moaned, her eyes slamming shut as he stirred the strange desire she had never felt before arriving at Ashby. Since then, her body had come alive in ways she never knew possible, and it happened more than once a day.

"That is a good girl. You are still so tight, though," he said, pushing a second digit inside her tight hole.

Etta shifted her hips and he removed his fingers, opening the drawer of the nightstand beside the bed. Taking out an item that Etta already recognized, he added some ointment before sliding a new plug into her bottom. This one felt bigger and stretched her as it eased inside her rear. Whimpering, she wanted the pain to stop.

"Relax," he said. "It will not hurt any more than it already does."

The pain was mixed with pleasure and as she felt her bottom completely full, he rolled her onto her back. "Spread your legs, Etta."

Licking her dry lips, she followed his command. Whatever he said, she would do. She wanted to please him and, more importantly, she did not want a replacement nanny tomorrow.

Wetness coated her quim and Papa bent down to her level, examining her folds as he spread them apart.

It felt strange to have someone staring so intimately at a place that no one had ever examined before today.

"I am going to kiss you," Papa said.

She expected him to climb up her body and cover her lips with his own, but instead his mouth descended onto the heat and fire down below. His breath tickled her bare skin as his fingers separated her folds further, licking her swollen nub.

Etta's bottom tightened on the plug, her cunny pulsating as he licked and sucked her bead of nerves that sent her shuddering on the mattress.

He guided two fingers into her wetness, stroking her as she trembled beneath him.

Her breathing grew in intensity, her heart slammed against the walls of her chest, begging to break free, as if her heart and emotions were imprisoned. She moaned, and her papa did not try and silence her pleas. Wetness coated his fingers and dripped from her pussy as he licked and sucked, drinking all of it in.

Etta's toes curled and her quim clenched around his digits. She wished there was more to fill her, not just the plug in her bottom but his cock in her quim. Would he ever give her what she desired? Was he waiting until they were actually married? He had seen she was still a virgin, her maidenhead being intact during the examination. What was he waiting for?

"I want you," she said, her words thick and filled with longing. Her fingers clung to his shirt, pulling it from his trousers, ready to undress him and pin him beneath her, though she doubted he would ever let her be in control.

Climbing back up her body, he gently guided the gown down past her exposed quim and kissed her cheeks and nose, staring down at her with a smile. She softly moaned when she could smell her own essence on his breath.

"Good."

Etta did not know what that meant. Was he pleased with what had happened? He took a deep breath, pulled the covers up around her, and then lay down on the mattress atop the blankets, his hand draped across her waist.

Her eyes shut and she did not bother to ask about her next meal. She had no desire to drink from a bottle and felt that if she climbed from the bed, her legs would give out. Etta knew she would collapse, feeling wobbly as she needed her rest.

"Goodnight, my little love," he said, whispering the words into her ear. "I shall wake you for dinner."

There was no clock and the sky had darkened, but it was winter. It was much too hard to tell the hour. She drifted off to sleep, needing the rest, whether it was for twenty minutes or two hours. Feeling his strong arms surrounding her, Etta felt safe, comforted, and pleased.

How could Nanny Mae have betrayed him? As Etta fell asleep in his arms, the silence enveloping them only seemed to stir his anger and hatred for what she had done to his little one. Etta was
his,
and though he may not have claimed her yet, no one was supposed to bring her to her knees and make her quiver in ecstasy but him.

Philip hated himself for letting Nanny Mae get that close and not noticing. How many other littles had she taken advantage of? Though she claimed it had been consensual, had it really been, or had Etta felt she had no other choice?

Etta mumbled in her sleep and as he moved to pull away, he changed his mind and stroked the blonde tresses out of her face instead. Beneath the blankets, she was warm, nearly sticky from sweat. Was she having a bad dream? He tried to soothe her, his hands caressing her cheeks and down her back.

"Papa?" she whispered, her eyes slowly opening as she wiped away the few remnants of tears. He had been correct, she had been having a bad dream. Usually the little's nanny took care of such rare occurrences, but it was his job this evening.

"Do you want to tell me about your dream?" he asked, sitting up in bed.

Etta pushed the covers down to her waist, sitting up with him. Sadness crept over her features like a dark rain cloud from above. "It was awful." She stared down at the quilt, her fingers caressing the delicate pattern.

Philip lifted her chin to meet his gaze. "What was awful, Etta?"

"Watching my father die."

He understood the severity of her pain and the fact that the dream was more real than she would have hoped. "I am sorry about your father," he said, his eyes staring longingly into her ocean blue gaze.

"Me too." Her bottom lip trembled and as she tried to avoid his stare, her face found the crook of his neck, her tears soaking through his shirt. She sobbed and unleashed a fury of tears that had been stored in her heart for the loss of her family.

Philip had known this day would come. That sadness and grief would meet her head on. He was not fond of watching girls cry, but he would comfort her, shoulder her pain, and help her move on, hopefully with him. He wanted to make her happy and prayed she desired the same.

His large hands stroked her back over the gown.

She pressed into him, tighter, her fingers clutching his shirt as if it were her life preserver and she were in a rough sea, struggling to survive. Etta gasped, finding it hard to breathe, as if water choked her lungs as the waves lapped above her head, drowning her.

He pulled her into his lap, his arms strong and warm as he tried his best to comfort her. Rocking her softly, he cradled her like a child in his embrace and listened as she hiccupped, her breathing slowly returning to normal. His touch calmed and soothed, his kisses soft and gentle against her neck as he kept her pressed close to him. He wanted to erase her pain, ease her suffering and her loss. He did not know what else to do. Many of the girls who came to the chateau had a history of difficulty and troublesome behavior, but few had lost one parent, and none except for Etta had lost both.

She was his special little. Unlike the other girls who struggled to fit in, Etta's only clash was with her past. It would always be there, a reminder of a life that she had lost. She would need to move on, let go of the pain and accept her place at Ashby. He'd yet to decide what to do with her upon her graduation. It was still quite some time away, but he'd need to develop a plan for Etta that would keep her happy. Part of that meant knowing who she was, what she loved, and what she needed. He needed her submission, it was what Philip craved, but what did she desire? What would keep her loyal only to him?

"Thank you." Her soft voice broke the silence.

He did not release his hold on her yet, keeping her in his arms a moment longer before feeling her struggle.

"What's wrong?"

She glanced at the door to the washroom. "I need to—"

"You need to what?" he asked. She had not finished her sentence, and he was not waiting until tomorrow for her to answer.

"I need to use the potty."

He helped her down from bed and walked with her into the washroom where the chamber pot sat. "Do I need to help you?" Philip was not sure what Nanny Mae did when it came to using the potty. There were some aspects of being a little that he preferred to let the nannies handle. This was one of them.

Etta smiled politely. "I can handle it."

He nodded and stepped out of the washroom, heading for the door. Philip's stomach protested that he had not eaten dinner yet. "Get dressed again, in the clothes you were wearing earlier today. I shall be outside your door in ten minutes." He gave her plenty of time to change while he checked to see if dinner was ready. She would need a nanny, since he had dismissed Nanny Mae from her responsibilities as Etta's caretaker. Nanny Vivian was still new and learning the trade, but perhaps she could step in until he found someone else. Who, though? That was always a difficult question, since he tried to keep his school of littles and their discipline discreet. Perhaps bringing one of the young women from the east wing to the littles' hall would be best. He'd have to choose someone who had instilled discipline in the girls, and yet also knew how to keep her hands to herself when appropriate.

Yes. He knew just the person. Elizabeth had been a governess for a private household before coming to Ashby Chateau. She was the first introduction most girls had to a teacher, every new pupil spent several hours with her, getting acquainted with the rules before being placed in the appropriate class. Her job, though undoubtedly important, would serve her well to keep his littles in line. For Elizabeth, the ruler was practically attached to her hand, another appendage that she found it necessary to keep on her at all times. She scared even him, her stern gaze, rough accent, and thick-bodied proportions made him feel inadequate. She was the nanny that no little would want but all would submit to. At least, that was what Philip hoped.

He headed down the hall, unlocked the door to the east wing, and went to find Elizabeth. Would she be willing to join the littles and keep them in line? Her direction and guidance were a valuable asset that the chateau had, and removing her from the finishing school would be a great loss, but a necessary one.