Authors: Alta Hensley,Allison West
Little Secrets
Little Secrets
By
Alta Hensley & Allison West
©2016 by Blushing Books® and Alta Hensley & Allison West
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Hensley, Alta
West, Allison
Little Secrets
eBook ISBN:
978-1-68259-519-0
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the Author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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Ready to succumb. Preparing to surrender. Grooming to be the perfect
little
wife—pure submission. Grown women training to discover their child-like innocence. Day and night, every day, she trained. All for one purpose… and yet…
Eliza Stead had spent six months at the Ashby Chateau, becoming 'little' to please her betrothed, Preston Abbott. She could not remember when she had last laid eyes on him. It had been far more than a week, and though she knew he was a powerful and busy man, that did not aid in mending her broken heart or feeling of abandonment. A week was not long, but something deep inside Eliza's soul told her something was not quite right. Things between her and Preston were not what they had been—or what they should be.
Eliza did, however, feel loved by those at Ashby, by Mr. Philip Hartley, the headmaster and her Nanny Agnes, who always paid her special attention. Late at night, when she and the other littles were tucked up in bed, her nanny would come read her an extra bedtime story. Had the older woman known what was happening, that Preston was pulling away from Eliza? She felt it in her heart, the drift as the current tugged her lifeless body away. Was there another woman he desired more than her? Preston had paid for her tuition at Ashby. It was no secret that he came from wealth and could afford the hand of any wife he chose, not needing her dowry to satisfy him financially. Had he decided that Eliza was not worth the burden? Not worth the cost any longer? Did they all know, and were just not sure how to tell her the crushing news? Was the special attention from those at Ashby not love, but pity instead?
Staring out the window, she noticed the trees and flowers were in bloom in the garden. She desired to spend the day out among the fragrant flowers, the birds chirping, and the fresh air. But it was always out of the question and against the rules of the Ashby Chateau. Leaving was forbidden without express permission. Without her betrothed, Papa Preston, there was no one to escort Eliza on a lovely spring stroll outdoors.
"Eliza." Little Clara ran over to her friend and peered out the window. "What do you see?" she asked, pressing her button nose against the pane, squishing it with a laugh. Her blonde hair fell down past her shoulders, spilling out from the clips, which her nanny had used to secure the long tresses. A few of the loose strands of hair hung forward, drawing attention to her pert, but ample, breasts. They were barely concealed in her pink, lacy dress—fit for a little princess.
"Nothing at all." Eliza had been foolish in hoping to catch a glimpse of his warm chocolate eyes and thick dark hair. She wanted so very much to see Preston, her papa, again. It had taken her quite some time to get used to the idea of calling a man 'papa'. The idea seemed quite perverse at first, and highly inappropriate for a young woman to be doing so. However, she found it much easier to address him as such than having her bottom bared and spanked. He had been warm, yet demanding. She often craved to see another side of him, the one that little Addie whispered about when she had time alone with
her
papa.
Eliza could not help the feeling of jealousy, wishing that she, too, could have a papa who cuddled her and comforted her. Preston had done nothing of the sort, and had only kept a very cold distance. What could be considered as displaying proper manners also stabbed a deep wound into Eliza's insecurities. Why had Preston been pulling away? Had it been her fault? She did as her nanny told her and certainly there were outbursts, but she always tried to be the good girl she was training to be. Eliza wanted desperately to please him. Did he not realize that?
Little Clara grasped her hand and pulled her from the window, out of the young woman's nursery and down the hall to the playroom. "Your papa will come back," Clara said. "I am sure he is busy or away on business." She let go of Eliza's hand and stepped closer, whispering the words into her ear. "Wealthy papas require a lot of time away from the chateau. They always come back for us," Clara said, sounding confident, but Eliza could not take the uncertainty any longer.
Eliza did not feel the strength of Preston's affection. Certainly he had paid her tuition, but that did not mean he would not abandon her. Worse, what if something had happened to him? She picked at her fingernails, her hands trembling as she rushed out of the room, her heels clicking over the marble floor, and knocked briskly on the headmaster's door. "Headmaster Philip…" She knocked again, in case he had not heard her.
Footsteps trudged over the floor and to the door. The handle turned and Mr. Philip Hartley pulled back the door, surprise evident on his face when he saw Eliza on the other side.
She had not come to him often. In fact, she had not ever knocked on his door, afraid of the gentleman who could have easily been her father. Eliza had just turned nineteen and still felt intimidated by older men, especially those in great power. Headmaster Philip had always been kind to her and polite, but it did not discount her fears.
"Little Eliza, please come in," he said, stepping aside as he granted her entrance into his office.
It had been nearly six months since she'd last sat on that very sofa, signing the papers with her betrothed. She shuffled into the room and clasped her hands together in front of her, nervously. "I have not heard from my papa in nearly two weeks," she said. "Tell me, you must have heard something from Preston?" Her brow furrowed and her heart raced with worry.
"Come, have a seat." Headmaster Philip patted the sofa and waited for her to sit down. He emitted a soft sigh and she saw the same frown that she felt, settle across his face.
"What is it, Headmaster Philip? Has something terrible happened to my papa?" Eliza could not contain the worry as her voice trembled and her legs bounced as she sat. "Please, you must tell me what you know."
He ran his hand through his hair. His eyes, the color of the sea, were trained on Eliza, unwavering. "Preston came and paid me a visit."
"When?" she asked, leaning forward, her eyes wide, desiring to know every detail. Yet she feared his reply at the same time.
"I need you to know that you are doing very well at Ashby, little Eliza. Nanny Agnes and I are very proud of your continued growth at the chateau. However, it has come to my attention that your betrothed, Preston Abbott, may not be the best husband—or the most suited—for you."
Eliza gasped, shaking her head, not wanting to hear a word of what the headmaster had to say. "No. That cannot be." There was a roaring in her ears, and she had the sudden urge to flee. "Preston asked that I enroll here, for him." Did he not realize how much she cared for him? "He was the one who wished for me to be his little, and he to be my papa."
"Since your admission into the chateau, Preston has admitted that he does not feel as though he has connected with you emotionally," Philip answered softly. He leaned back against the wooden desk, his dark suit matching the richness of his hair. "Your tuition is paid through to the end of the semester, but we will have to discuss with your guardian whether you will continue your studies at the Ashby Chateau to seek another husband and papa."
Eliza's eyes burned as tears threatened. "How can you say that? Does he not wish to marry me? Is he such a coward that he cannot tell me the news himself?" She folded her arms across her chest, trying to calm the raging panic beating its way out of her body. The injustice of such a thing almost took the breath right out of her.
"I shall send a letter by courier to your father. We will discuss your future, and should you need to leave, I will give you advance warning to say goodbye to the girls."
How could Preston abandon her like that? They had been betrothed since they were children, and even though she did not know him well, she had gone along with his desires of making her little, so that they could reminisce on when they first met. At least that had been what she had thought being little would be like. Instead, he had run, like a coward, unwilling to tell her the news himself—that he would not marry her. Preston had turned his back on her, leaving her without so much as a goodbye.
Eliza's eyes continued to burn and she began to find it even more difficult to breathe. She did not wish for her friend Clara to see the tears and hear the truth, that she had been forsaken. "May I take a walk outside, Headmaster Philip?" She realized it was against the rules, but she also needed air and a bit of perspective. "Please. I feel as if the walls are closing in on me. Please, sir."
Philip sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I shall walk you out. Stay around the gardens, for I cannot have you disappearing on me. Nanny Agnes will come and check on you within the hour. I see no reason why you cannot spend a few minutes outside. It has been a difficult day." He pushed himself off the desk and rested a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "I do not usually let the littles out on their own, but you have been here for six months, so I trust that you will behave. I believe it would do you good to enjoy a bit of sunshine."
"Thank you, Headmaster Philip." She stood up from the sofa and followed him out of his office and to the left, heading down the hallway to a locked door. Eliza had only been through the hallway downstairs once before, when she had arrived at the chateau. Her heels clicked down the steps. To her left and right were several locked doors, behind which the nannies and staff lived.
Wordlessly she strolled outside, the door behind her clicking shut as he led her out into the yard. Eliza did not know why the girls were not allowed to come outside more often when the weather was nice. A small garden sat on the opposite side of the chateau. Quietly she walked along the stone path, enjoying the sound of birds chirping and the feel of the wind grazing her cheek. Eliza missed the world, the people, and life outside of Ashby. She had given it all up for Preston, and for what? She was now alone, with an uncertain future in store.
Stepping off the path and onto the grass, she spun around in a circle, allowing the pale yellow dress trimmed with lace to twirl around her. The hem stopped at the knee, revealing white stockings that rose up her thighs, showing no hint of skin. It did not make the ensemble any less revealing or scandalous. Eliza had nothing to worry about. There were newly mounted gates surrounding Ashby. She had seen them being installed when she first arrived at the chateau. Secrecy was of utmost importance, and quite evident in every way.
The wind rustled the trees and Eliza headed toward a stone bench, taking a seat on the cool surface, staring at the garden, her back to Ashby. She did not want to leave; her time had been short but not unpleasant under the strict care of her nanny. She could not understand why Preston had pulled away from her. Had his desire for a little not been what he thought it would be? Did she not please him? Or perhaps had he found another woman whom he felt more content marrying?
They may have known each other since they were young children, but in truth she hardly knew anything about him. The sadness she felt, the heaviness in her heart, was despair at the thought of having to return home. That was not to say she did not love her family, but she had thought to have finally found her rightful place, happy and comforted by those at the Ashby. The contract which Preston had signed and broken must have meant very little to him. Her signature had been more of a formality just to please the man she was to marry.
Eliza closed her eyes and let a few stray tears fall, where no one could see them or judge her. Being little had been difficult in her first few weeks. She finally felt as though she fit in, had gained acceptance and friends, only to worry now that she would be returned home. Did her father even know the truth about the littles' school? Surely Mr. Hartley would not confide so much detail to her guardian. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and she was suddenly concerned for her reputation. If she did not marry a gentleman who wanted a little, she would be ruined, surely? After all, who would want her now?