The Inheritance (29 page)

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Authors: Maggie Carpenter

Tags: #domination and submission, #maggie carpenter, #elizabeths education

BOOK: The Inheritance
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Saturday
September 21st

7:30 p.m.

Residence of
Captain

Mansfield
Manor

 

In addition to
the card was a list of instructions outlining how he was to prepare
Elizabeth for the tests she would need to pass in order for them to
be inducted. He read them through again. There weren't many, but he
could imagine them in the minutest detail. It would all begin on
her wedding night.

He had
contacted one of the Directors, who also happened to be a dear
friend, and informed him of his plans to marry during his time in
London. His invitation into the circle was to be expected. Whether
or not Elizabeth would get them there was another matter
entirely.

Placing the
card back in the envelope and locking it away, he set pen to paper
replying to correspondence that had been awaiting his return.
Glancing at his pocket watch he discovered it had been twenty
minutes since he had taken Elizabeth to her corner.

"Time!" he
called, and watched as Elizabeth turned and walked back to him,
eyes downcast just as they should be. Reaching his chair she
kneeled in front of him and placed her hands behind her back.

"And what is
it you'd like to say to me?"

"Master. Thank
you for punishing me. I deserved each and every painful stroke of
your fearsome rod. I honestly am deeply ashamed. I cannot believe
what I did. You made it perfectly clear that I was to stay away
from that beastly man. I didn't listen to you. I don't know why my
head convinced me he was all right. He wasn't. But that shouldn't
have mattered anyway. You told me to keep my distance and I didn't.
I disobeyed you. Utterly disobeyed you. I can only ask that you
will forgive me."

Her apology
was deeply heartfelt and he could see she was once more near tears
with her regret.

"I believe you
have come to your senses and yes, I do forgive you. Now you will
return to your room and continue your punishment. Recite to me your
task at hand."

"I must sit my
naked bottom on a towel at my desk and write out one hundred times,
I Must Obey My Master. When I have finished I must stay in my room
until dinner time," she said, then added, hesitatingly, "How will I
know when to come to dinner, Master?"

"Grace will
knock on your door in time for you to dress," he replied. "And
Elizabeth, I trust you understand you must keep your door locked
and admit no one."

"Yes,
Master."

"You are
dismissed, but you will open the drapes before leaving," he
ordered, and though he was abrupt and his tone curt, he longed to
wrap his arms around the remorseful young woman and kiss her
gently, but it was too soon to show her any tenderness.

She rose to
her feet, walked gingerly to the large windows and pulled open the
first heavy curtain, bathing the room in the afternoon sunlight.
Gazing out at the beautiful day she saw Roy cantering Zeus across
the front lawns towards the forest.

What on earth possessed me?
she
wondered, as she moved to the opposite drape and pushed it
aside.

She wished she
could go outside, she wished she could stay and talk with her
Master, she wished she could play the piano for Lydia, she wished
her bottom wasn't on fire - and oh - how she wished she could turn
back the clock.

Promising
herself she would never, ever make the same mistake ever again, she
walked slowly to the double doors. As she opened them to leave she
glanced over her shoulder at Lord Michael. His head was buried in
his papers. Sighing heavily she left the room and made her way to
her quarters. It was a hard lesson and one she would never
forget.

Much later
that evening, after dinner was long finished and the house was
quiet, carrying his small lantern Lord Michael made his way to her
bedroom and entered softly. Standing at her bedside he looked
lovingly down at his bride.

The bedclothes
had been pushed back and her curvaceous body was covered by a thin
cotton night dress. The locks of her hair were falling in long
curls around her shoulders, her lips were parted expectantly, and
her body was bent sideways at her waist, no doubt a position she
had discovered in her sleep to keep her sensitive behind from
touching the mattress.

Settling on
the edge of the bed he placed the light on her nightstand, then
traced his fingers around the curve of a breast, trailing them down
to lightly pinch the sharp point of her nipple. She moaned and
threw an arm above her head as if inviting more attention. Wrapping
his hand around the full mound he squeezed gently, and listened as
she moaned in sleepy pleasure. Moments later her eyes fluttered
open.

"Master," she
breathed, then recalling her instruction immediately rolled on to
her stomach.

Smiling at her
obedient gesture, recalled so clearly even in her dozy state, he
pulled her nightie above her beautiful backside. She wore no
undergarments, as was her habit when she slept, and he gazed
contentedly at the red striped rump. Opening his palm he travelled
it across her cheeks.

"Still sore,
young lady?" he murmured.

"Oh yes,
Master," she whimpered, then added, "and if I may say, deservedly
so."

"You most
certainly may. Where are your writings?"

"On my desk,
Master."

He gave each
cheek a good squeeze, eliciting a significant ouch for his
pleasure, and standing up made his way to the small desk at the
window. He found the papers and carried them back to her bed.

"I see you
wrote them in sets of ten," he remarked, seeing a space left every
ten lines.

"Yes, Master.
It made it easier to keep track so I would know when I reached one
hundred."

Lord Michael
shook his head. Little did she know she would be doing a similar
count in the not too distant future.

"I'm pleased
you did not let your handwriting deteriorate as you continued.
Should you have done so it would have required you start over, with
a fresh sting as you did so."

"Thank you,
Master. I wanted it to be perfect."

"It appears to
be!" he exclaimed. "I shall take these with me, as I will the
papers you finish tomorrow. And you should know, I've spoken to
James. When you ask Lydia to ride in the morning she will accept
your invitation."

"Yes, Master.
Thank you."

Her lips and
breasts were calling to his mouth. Her bottom was inviting his
hands, asking to be clutched and squeezed, and her cunt, peeping
between her thighs glistening up at him, begged for his sword to
lance its way home.

He considered
taking care of himself - shooting across his handiwork - but
suppressed the thought. When her punishment was complete he would
take her to their chamber and ravage her mercilessly. But as he
pulled down her nightdress and bade her goodnight, he did allow
them both the sweetness of a light kiss on the lips.

 

The following
morning, Elizabeth astride Constance and Lydia settled calmly on
Mindy, Elizabeth rode at a walk around the front field. Her bottom
was most uncomfortable and it was enormously frustrating to walk in
endless circles around the flat terrain. It was driving Constance
mad, who would prance every now and then causing the scratchy
discomfort to transform into a serious zing, but at least she was
outside and there was just the rest of the day to go, then things
would be back to normal.

Much to her
dismay, Lydia was having such a nice time they were out on the
field for over an hour. By the time she returned to the stable
Elizabeth wasn't sure if she'd be able to sit through lunch. What
she didn't know was that Lord Michael had expressly told James that
Lydia was to keep Elizabeth on her horse for at least that
long.

After
freshening up and changing, when Elizabeth met Lord Michael on the
outside terrace for lunch, he was very happy to see how carefully
she planted her bottom on her chair. Throughout the meal she
shifted constantly, and on more than one occasion stood up,
stretching her arms above her head, saying she needed to so do due
to a kink in her shoulder.

When the meal
was finished and she rose to return to her room, Lydia frowned and
crossed her arms.

"But
Elizabeth, you spent all yesterday and last night in your room
because of your headache. I thought you were feeling better. I
thought you could play the piano for me this afternoon so I might
sing," she complained.

James had
already surmised Elizabeth was paying the price for her
disobedience and part of that price was room confinement.

"Lydia,
perhaps Elizabeth has something she must do," he said, rather
firmly, hoping his betrothed would get his message.

"But can't it
wait?" she pressed. "We had such a nice time riding the field this
morning."

Elizabeth
stared down at her companion.

Maybe you did
, she thought.
Your bottom wasn't stinging like mad and your mare
wasn't jigging and dancing and making it worse
.

"Surely we can
spend a little more time together this afternoon," Lydia continued.
"James will be busy working with Lord Michael."

"I'm afraid
James is right," she answered. "I'm terribly sorry. I'm working on
- on," she paused, trying frantically to think of something to say
that would make sense.

"What can be
so important that you have to take the entire afternoon?" Lydia
pressed.

"Lydia!" James
said sharply.

"She's working
on something for me," Lord Michael interjected, wanting to help
Elizabeth's awkward situation. "It's a surprise for our wedding
guests. She's been sworn to secrecy."

"How
mysterious," Lydia giggled. "It does sound exciting. Can't I help
you with it, Elizabeth?"

"Lord Michael
just told us she's been sworn to secrecy," James said curtly.

"Yes, absolute
secrecy," Elizabeth chimed in, grateful for the fabrication. "But
it will take me all afternoon - and this evening too," she added
quickly. "But I'm hoping I'll be finished tonight. Hopefully
tomorrow I'll be able to join you and we can do whatever you might
wish."

"Very well. I
will find something to entertain myself," she answered, finally
accepting her friend would not be joining her.

"Now I really must go," Elizabeth said, leaving the table.
"I'll see you all at dinner,"
on those
wonderfully padded seat cushions
, she added
silently.

As she headed
back to her room to sit upon the scratchy towel and write out her
next one hundred lines, as uncomfortable as she was, and as much as
she didn't wish to put pen to paper, she thought she had the most
marvellous Master in the whole world.

Lord Michael
remained behind for a few minutes, finishing his coffee and staring
out at the rose garden. It was a handsome home and he was looking
forward to spending his remaining days there with his dearest
Elizabeth. As he rose to make his way to the study, James promised
to follow shortly. Lord Michael knew exactly what James needed to
attend to before joining him for the afternoon's work. His young
lady was in need of a serious talking to.

As soon as
Lord Michael had left and the servants had cleared the table, James
turned to Lydia and took her hand.

"Young lady,"
he began, in a stern voice, "did you not see how Elizabeth was
struggling? Why did you insist on pressing her?"

"I - uh -
didn't quite see it that way," she whined. "I just wanted her to
spend the rest of the day with me."

"But it was
clear she couldn't. You made her most uncomfortable."

"I did?"

"Yes! You did.
You were demanding. When someone tells you they're busy, that means
they're busy, and whatever it is they're doing is none of your
business," he scolded.

Lydia felt her
cheeks flame and she stared at the strong hand holding hers.

"I'm afraid
you must be punished," he declared.

"Oh James. Not
again. Please. I'm frightfully sorry," she whimpered.

"As you should
be," he replied, then taking a page from Lord Michael's book he
added, "You are to stay in your room for the rest of the day and
think about your behaviour just now. At dinnertime when I come to
fetch you I will spank you quick and hard. You will have to sit on
your sore bottom all through the meal. Perhaps that will teach you
to listen to me - and be far more respectful. My goodness! You
really can be quite impossible," he finished.

"Yes, Sir,"
she whispered.

"To your room,
young lady. I shall see you in a few hours. And Lydia."

"Yes,
Sir?"

"No
undergarments for the rest of the day, and when I enter your room
you will raise your dress and lay yourself across your bed for your
spanking."

"Ooooh... yes,
Sir," she moaned, and hurried away.

Leaning back
in his chair James sighed heavily. While he was angry with her for
placing Elizabeth in such a sticky situation and not listening to
him, he was greatly looking forward to applying his hand to her
robust bottom and having the opportunity to glimpse her virgin
sex.

And he did
just that.

At precisely
six forty-five p.m., the rapid fire hand-spanking made Lydia gasp
and squirm. James had sat next to her as he slapped his hand upon
her naked backside, his smacks raining down hard and fast, swiftly
turning her pale white skin a bright pink, and much to his
pleasure, each time she writhed in his direction he could clearly
see her perfect little pussy.

Just a short
while later it was Lydia who shifted uncomfortably in her seat at
the dinner table; it was Lydia who was demure and quiet; and it was
Lydia who rose more than once to fetch a fresh serviette or to
stretch out a kink in her calf.

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