Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1) (2 page)

"Ten,
eleven, twelve," intoned Lord Harrington as he peppered Eleanor's thighs,
drawing new shrieks from her.  Edwin knew from experience that thighs were
more sensitive things than buttocks and he rubbed his cock harder as he watched
her legs start to come together, no longer under their mistress' control. 
Her father snapped two more lashes onto her inner thighs, forcing them back
apart as Eleanor sobbed and begged. 

"Please...
no Papa... that's enough..."

"Fifteen,"
said Lord Harrington, landing another one. "And last time fifteen was not
enough, so we will continue. Sixteen."

Eleanor's
choked screams echoed around the room, Edwin was tantalized to see that Lord
Harrington had laid the sixteenth stripe directly across Eleanor's sensitive
cunny, her delicate lips plumping and reddening from the hard, direct
hit.  She screamed again as the seventeenth landed so that the very ends
of the twigs snapped against her tender pink parts. Now her bottom was really
moving, squirming and bouncing, as she buried her face into the seat of the
chair and sobbed.  Lord Harrington finished the last three strokes across
her bottom. 

As he
returned the birch rod to its cupboard, the young men in the gallery were able
to stare unimpeded at the sight of the sobbing and chastened Eleanor, her
formerly creamy buttocks and thighs now hot and glowing, her cunny swollen and
reddened.  Edwin thought he might actually die from the intense state of
arousal he was in; it might be wrong but at least Wesley had also been effected.  

"Now
go stand in the corner," Lord Harrington ordered as he turned around.
"And keep your skirts up. I'll tell you when you can return to your
room."

The
Earl sat back down at his desk, returning to his ledgers as Eleanor minced her
way to the corner, holding her skirts around her waist.  Now the men were
able to see her tear-streaked face and red eyes as she moved to do as her
father directed. 

Leaving
the gallery quietly, Wesley asked Hugh why the corner.

"More
embarrassing. He'll keep here there until at least one person comes into the
room and sees her there."

"Do
you think we could go?" asked Edwin, feeling desirous of seeing Eleanor's
beaten buttocks closer. 

Hugh
thought about it and then shook his head. "He'll know I brought you there
for the purpose of seeing her and I don't think he'd approve. It's one thing if
one of the maid sees her, another thing if it's a young man of her
station."

Nodding
his head in understanding, Edwin hastily made his excuses and left to go into
town, feeling the insistent desire to find a willing woman and sink into her as
soon as possible.  Wesley left with him.

One
year later Edwin saw a very different Eleanor at her come-out ball than he had
before that fateful day when he'd witnessed her birching, in fact rather
different from that week that he’d spent with her family in Brighton.  She
looked every inch the presentable young lady, demure and well-mannered,
although Hugh said that she occasionally still received a spanking for minor
infractions. There seemed to be a spark in her pretty sapphire eyes though, as
she surveyed the young men of the ballroom like a huntress searching for her
prey.  Edwin found himself intrigued, and not just because of the memory
of her rosy, beaten buttocks, although of course that was part of it.

Since
that time he'd found one or two ladies that were intrigued by having a spanking
to their bare bottoms, and he'd found that it had aroused him more than ever
before. Once he'd caught one of his maids stealing from him and instead of
turning her out he'd let her stay on after receiving a personal birching from
him. The discipline had aroused both of them so much that he'd broken one of
his cardinal rules and taken her right then and there. Normally he left the
staff alone, having learned his lesson from the first time he'd made one of the
maids his mistresses and the disruption it had caused in the household.
Collette wasn't his mistress though, there had been that one time and she had
gone on to be married about a year later to a footman in a neighboring
household. Edwin rather envied the lucky man.  Still, neither Collette nor
any of the other women had quite satisfied the need that had risen in him that
first day when he’d witness Eleanor’s birching. He sometimes wondered if it was
because it was the first time he’d seen such a thing or if it had been Eleanor
herself.

Lately
his own thoughts had turned to marriage. His parents were ensconced firmly in
the countryside, but that didn't stop his mother from sending him constant
letters inquiring as to the steps he was taking to find a wife. After all, he
was her only child and if something were to happen to him then the title would
go to a distant cousin.  The last few letters his mother had sent had
hinted at coming to London herself to offer her assistance.  Considering how
much either of his parents hated to leave the country, he didn't want her to
feel as though that was necessary.

Now,
tonight at this ball, he realized what he had been waiting for this past
year.  The milk and water misses held no allure for him, despite the fact
that many of them were quite beautiful, they all bored him. He wanted a
different kind of marriage. Not one where with he would have to respectfully
knock on her door, request admittance, and then make boring, gentle love to,
but a wife that had spirit, sensuality, passion, and preferably the occasional
need to be disciplined. A wife like Collette's lucky husband had. Eleanor
would make a splendid future Countess; truthfully, she'd been hovering in the
back of his mind constantly ever since he'd seen her birched.  Of course,
her late debut had caused a bit of gossip but he didn't care about that.

Although they’d only
spent a week together during the previous year, and he had seen for himself
what sharp-tongued brat Eleanor had turned into during that time, he also knew
what she had been like before she turned spoiled.  He knew that she had
once followed Hugh, Wesley and himself around practically begging for
attention, trailing her doll Rose along with her everywhere she went. He knew
that she'd worn pink for two years straight and refused to put on a dress in
any other color. He remembered when she'd found some neighbors boys bullying
one of the village girls and had chased them off before offering up her doll,
Rose, for the little girl to play with.  At that point he'd kept a sharp
eye out in case one of the boys had wanted to retaliate against Eleanor, but
they’d had the wits enough to realize that it was best to leave the eight year
old and her new six year old friend alone. There was still that sweet, generous
spirit inside of her, he believed, it was just buried deep down under the
desire for silks, jewels and worshipful male attention.

Deciding
that he might as well get to know this new Eleanor so that he could make an
informed decision, Edwin crossed to her side of the room. Her debut dress
was white, of course, and it looked quite well with her complexion, emphasizing
the pink of her cheeks and lips, the bright gold of her hair and her shining
blue eyes. 

"Lady
Harrington," he greeted her mother with a slight bow, smiling his most charming
smile. "Lady Eleanor."

"Lord
Hyde, you rogue," Lady Harrington said with a smile. "You've been
staring at my Eleanor here for the past fifteen minutes and you're only just
now coming to talk?" Edwin winked at her teasing.

"I
was too arrested by the sight of her beauty," he said smoothly, "and
have only just now found my tongue again.  You are looking particularly
lovely tonight Lady Eleanor." The neckline of her gown was low but not
immodest, in fact it was almost demure compared to some of the gowns other
women in the room were wearing. He was quite sure that he had seen Eleanor
eying them enviously. Obviously still wanting things that her father said she
couldn't have.

"Since
you have found your tongue again, one would think that you would use it for
something other than the usual banal compliments," Eleanor said a little
waspishly.  He hid a smile. Not because he wasn't offended at her brash
remark, but because it was obvious she still had some of her spirit and that a husband
would have ample opportunity to discipline her if she couldn't get her own
tongue under control.

"Eleanor!"
said her mother in scandalized tones, fanning herself vigorously as if feeling
faint. "You are being quite rude. Please do forgive her, my Lord." She
fluttered her eyes at him. If this was an example of how Lady Harrington
reproached her willful daughter, Edwin could well understand how Eleanor had
become so spoiled under her care.

The
lady's mouth puckered mulishly, almost pouting in a way that made him want to
bend his head down and kiss her, despite the ire in her eyes. "It's just
Edwin, mother. We've known him forever." As if that excused her rude
behavior.

Smiling
genially at Lady Harrington, Edwin turned a more rakish look on Eleanor. One
that she wouldn't have seen on his face before, because he'd never turned his
flirtatious charm on his friend's sister. Looking at her through half-lidded
eyes, he leaned in closer and his smiled broadened as she inhaled sharply,
looking up at him in consternation.
In truth, Eleanor was quite intimidated by Lord Hyde, which is why she had
sharpened her tongue on him, feeling as if she had something to prove.  He
was very tall, very muscular and very good looking, and having him in such
close proximity to her, with her mother teasing him about staring at her, had
pushed aside all the society masks she'd created since her father had taken a
closer interest in her behavior.  The number of spankings and birchings
had subsided as she'd started bowing to her father's demands and wishes, no
matter how much she chafed over his unfair rules. After all, look at the number
of young debutantes here with much more bosom showing than herself, in finer
fabrics and with better jewelry! This was her coming out ball and she should
have shone; instead she was stuck in a dress that catered to her father's stupid
and old-fashioned ideals. 

Over
the past year she'd learned to keep her thoughts to herself, to pretend to be acquiescent
with her father's demands, and to show herself as the perfect little society
miss.  It was all part of her plan to remove herself from her father's
strict household as soon as possible, once she was a wife she could do as she
pleased, buy all the clothes and fripperies that she wanted, and her husband
would shower her with expensive jewelry. Eleanor knew exactly what she wanted
in a husband - a man who loved her to distraction. 

She'd
seen the way her parents' marriage worked; her mother loved her father
unconditionally and bowed to his every wish. They’d spent the last 6 years
in Brighton and she’d never managed to forget the day when she’d overheard her
mother asking her husband if he was sure he didn’t want her and Eleanor to stay
in London with him and he’d responded “For God’s sake, Penelope, go to
Brighton! If you aren’t there by next week I’ll make sure you regret it!”

And
they’d spent the last six years there, rarely going into London for more than a
weekend and her father had rarely come to visit them for more than a few weeks.
Although he did make the trip quite often, he spent the majority of his time in
London with Hugh.  Eleanor had felt more than a little neglected, not to
mention outraged on the part of her mother, and she’d vowed that such a thing
would never happen to her.

Although
she felt sure that her father cared about her mother, he obviously didn’t care
enough and he didn’t love her enough to keep her with him, no matter how much
Lady Harrington missed him.  Eleanor would not fall in love.  The person who
was not in love had the power and that's what Eleanor wanted, a comfortable
life with a man who would worship her and lavish gifts upon her. 

Already
she'd flirted with several young men who would do quite nicely. Lord Kilcairn
had practically tripped over himself to be the first to secure a dance with
her, the second son of the Marquess of Salisbury had begged to fetch her a
lemonade and the young Earl of Cawdor had promised to talk to his aunt, Lady
Cowper, about securing her permission to waltz.  There were plenty of
other men in the room looking at her with admiring eyes that she hadn't even
been introduced to to yet, although she knew she would be soon. Perhaps she'd
even let a few of them take her out on the terrace and kiss her.  After
all, her debut had come after most of her friends' and so she had some catching
up to do - all of 
them
 had been kissed at least once.

Lord
Hyde was certainly not on her list of possible husbands. He was too large, too
intimidating, too disturbing. The way he looked at her made her feel like he was
undressing her with those unfathomable dark eyes; they were admiring of her but
there was nothing puppy-like about it.  Tonight he was looking
particularly fine in a light grey coat that set off his dark hair and eyes and
emphasized his shoulders, breeches that molded themselves to his muscular legs,
and a charcoal waistcoat that hugged his masculine figure. The slightly amused
and yet somehow intense expression on his face did nothing to soothe her
anxiety around him; the roguish smile that he gave her only affirmed her
wariness of him, but it also made her insides tighten in the most inexplicable
way. 

"I
could never deny a request from you, Lady Harrington," he said, in that
smooth, deep voice of his. Shivers ran up her spine and she could feel gooseflesh
breaking out all over her body.  She didn't remember him ever having quite
this effect on her before. It was incredibly unnerving. Had he ever looked at
her quite that way before? "However, I do believe that apologies are more
appreciated coming from the source of the offense."

He
looked at her expectantly.  

A sharp
retort was on the tip of her tongue when she saw her father approaching out of
the corner of her eye. Immediately she bowed her head, knowing that her mother
wouldn't say anything to her father about her misbehavior if only she could
apologize and change the topic before he came within earshot. 

"Please
forgive me, my lord," she said in a mild, soft tone, giving a small
curtsy.  "I'm afraid that I am overly excited by the importance of
this evening and temporarily lost my manners."

"Of
course," said Lord Hyde. She peeked up at him through her lashes,
wondering at the tone in his voice. Was he amused by her? Fury pinked her
cheeks, but she couldn't say anything because her father had just reached their
group.  He exchanged greetings with Lord Hyde and asked if Edwin would
call on him the next day.  Having agreed to do so, Lord Hyde then turned and
asked Eleanor for a dance.

With
her father watching she couldn't do anything but say yes, as graciously as
possible.  Once on the dance floor she kept on her smooth social mask,
finding it the only defense she had against Lord Hyde's probing eyes and heated
glances. 

“So how
does it feel to be the most beautiful woman in the room?” he murmured as they
passed each other, his hand lingering in hers just a moment too long.

“Don’t
allow Miss Cuthbert to hear you say that to me or her heart will be quite
broken,” she retorted, having seen the way the pretty debutante had sighed
before, during and after her dance with Edwin. But he only laughed. Obviously
careless of what hearts he might be breaking and so Eleanor hardened hers,
knowing that he was a teasing rake. The kind of man her mother had warned her
about and the kind of man she already knew she wanted to avoid, not just
because of his reputation but because she could tell he would never be
malleable in the way she wished her future husband to be.

Yet
that didn’t stop her heart from pounding when he leaned over and whispered in
her ear. “Miss Cuthbert is quite beautiful, but a man always has his
preferences.

And his
eyes dipped down to observe the creamy swells of her breasts. Beneath the
fabric of her dress she could feel her nipples pucker and she found herself
suddenly breathless. His words were not inappropriate, but his meaning was
quite clear and made her glad, for the first time that evening, that her gown
had a modest neckline.