The Submission of Little Emmie (2 page)

Bath Time

"Come along, ducky. You poor thing," cooed Mrs. Weatherby. "Let's get you into a warm bath. That will fix you up!" She grasped Emily's upper arm, the one not clutching the stuffed bunny, and led her into the house.

Emily had barely caught a glimpse of the sprawling house with large Grecian columns before being ushered inside into an imposing black marble entry hall. A massive central staircase covered in red velvet carpeting led to a second floor, where it branched off in different directions. Emily had scant moments to take in the valuable antiques and artwork before being hustled up the staircase and to the right by the ever-efficient Mrs.
Weatherby. She had expected to be brought to a suite of rooms adjoining his Lordship’s. Instead she was ushered up a smaller staircase at the end of the hall to the third story.

Her heels clicked on the polished wood floor as she followed Mrs.
Weatherby to a pair of double doors at the end of a second hallway. The doors opened on their approach, and Emily came face to face with a severe-looking woman in a serviceable gray gown with long sleeves and a high collar. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore no jewelry save for a small silver watch fob pinned over her left breast. 

"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Pew,” Mrs.
Weatherby said. “I have your new charge here. Isn't she precious?"  Mrs. Weatherby beamed, her ample motherly appearance standing in sharp contrast to Mrs. Pew's expressionless countenance and thin frame. 

"Bring the child in." Mrs. Pew turned into the room, barely sparing a glance for Emily. 

All thought of protest died on Emily's lips the moment she crossed the threshold.  Up till this point her confused and sleep-deprived brain was not fully processing the strange conversations taking place around her. Her main focus had been on a bath and some food. She figured there would be plenty of time to address how she was being treated once she had an actual conversation with her new husband. However, such thoughts fled from her mind the moment she saw the room before her.

It was a spacious room with numerous floor-to-ceiling windows down the one side. Lace curtains diffused the sun's rays and bathed the room in soft light. The walls were covered in beautiful cream wallpaper with a delicate pink rosebud pattern and the polished wood floors were covered in large Persian rugs displaying a similar delicate floral pattern in cream, pink and light green. To the left of the entrance was a cozy nook with its own circular rug, a small wooden table and two chairs in pale pink. In the center was a tiny, delicate china tea set, and seated in the chairs were an adorable white teddy bear and a beautiful doll with long, silky blond hair and a frilly lace dress. Against the wall, was a white bookcase filled with books, smaller dolls and various other toys. Further into the room, Emily noticed a large, expensive-looking rocking horse with a real leather saddle.  Again, it looked to be just a little too big for a child. Across from the rocking horse on the right was a sturdy looking desk with various schoolbooks and a large, vicious looking wooden ruler on
top. In front was a row of three small school desks. At the end of the long, open room there was a raised dais framed with the same lace curtains that covered the windows. Just beyond them, Emily could see a small, single bed with a cream coverlet and pale pink canopy.  On the bed, propped up against the pillows were more stuffed animals and more dolls. To the left of the child's bed, was a large white dresser.  To the right was a small door that led into another room. There was also a cheery fireplace with two plush chairs settled in front.  

Emily had never seen such a beautiful nursery. Obviously, her new husband had a little girl. She felt a sudden pang of jealously for this fortunate child she was yet to meet. She had never experienced such luxury as a child.

"Do not stand around gaping with your mouth open like a fish," Mrs. Pew snapped. "Follow me. Mrs. Weatherby, I will probably need your assistance."

With a nod, Mrs.
Weatherby propelled Emily forward beyond the bedroom.

This next room was far less welcoming. The floor in the small, square room was covered in white, marble tile. Against the far pale pink wall was a large, club-footed tub filled to the rim with steaming water. In front was a wide mahogany bench and to the left, was what looked like an over-sized changing table in the same dark mahogany. The shelves below contained various ointment jars, thermometers, some thick, oblong objects in various shapes and sizes and
cloth diapers. To the right, was a low table covered in what looked like a rubber pad. Above it on the wall was a polished, brass hook. 

Expecting to meet the young girl who lived in these rooms, Emily was once more confused as she surveyed the empty bathing room. 

"Alright, little one, it's time to get you out of these inappropriate adult clothes and into a hot bath. You have had an exciting day and what you need is a good scrubbing and a nice, long nap,” Mrs. Pew said in a no-nonsense tone. Emily looked about the room for a child, for certainly this woman could not be addressing her! It wasn't until Mrs. Pew turned her around and roughly began to unlace her gown that Emily’s body and mind finally reacted.

"What do you think you are doing?" Emily raged. "I am not a child! Take me to my proper rooms immediately before I report your strange behavior to Lord...um
...," 

She realized in that moment that she still did not know her husband's name or title, nor by extension, her own. "Before I report you to my Lord," she finished lamely.

‘Now, now,” Mrs. Weatherby scolded. “We will have none of your back talk little lady! His Lordship commanded you to bathe and rest and that is what we shall do."

"But why am I in this nursery? Why not in my rooms?" Emily asked.

"These are your rooms.” Mrs. Pew appeared at Emily’s side, her voice low and stern. “And I will thank you to adjust your tone, young miss! His Lordship went to great expense to prepare these rooms. They are fit for a princess and I will not have you stick your pertinent little nose up at his generosity!" Mrs. Pew pushed the now unlaced gown past Emily's hips.

Emily crossed her arms across her ample breasts. She had never in her life been undressed in anyone's presence, and she was not about to start now. But with a nod from Mrs. Pew, Mrs.
Weatherby grabbed both of the girl’s arms and held them away from her body as the other woman began to work on the tight corset strings. 

"Let's get this off you. You won't be needing one of these again." Mrs. Pew's statement was lost on Emily as she experienced the rush of freedom and pleasure she always felt the moment her corset released her from its confining grasp.  The open corset was forced passed her hips and fell to the floor on top of her dress to be quickly followed by her petticoat. Within the blink of an eye, Emily found herself in only her threadbare camisole and drawers. She broke free of Mrs.
Weatherby's hold and ran across the room. Placing her back against the wall, she held up one restraining hand.

"You both need to leave me alone or I shall start to scream!" Emily exclaimed.

Both women laughed.

"Go ahead and scream all you want,” Mrs. Pew replied with terrifying calmness. “We are on the top floor of the house for a reason. No one can be disturbed by the screams of the little ones from up here. Now are you going to let us finish undressing you so that you may take your bath and be put down for a nap, or
must I redden that naughty bottom of yours for your disobedience?"

Emily's widened eyes moved from one woman to the other to determine if they were jesting. What she saw in their depths terrified her. They were serious! Emily sucked in a large breath to release a blood-curdling scream. She never got the chance.

"Alright then. A reddened bottom it is," said Mrs. Pew as she approached Emily and with startling swiftness threw the girl over her knee. Emily kicked and raged like a petulant child, desperately trying to push herself off Mrs. Pew's lap. 

"Enough!" commanded Mrs. Pew as she delivered a sound smack to Emily's cotton-covered bottom. The harshness of the action momentarily stunned Emily, allowing Mrs.
Weatherby to slip behind her now-still legs and whip off her drawers. At the same moment, Mrs. Pew ripped Emily's chemise in half from the bottom hem up, pushing the two halves down her arms and wrapping the torn fabric around her wrists, effectively securing them.  

"You will very quickly learn that misbehaving little girls get their bottoms spanked! Since this is your first time, I will only use my hand but continue to misbehave and you will not be so lucky."  With that, Mrs. Pew gave Emily her first spanking. 

Emily was reeling from too much stimuli. She was nauseous and light-headed from being draped over Mrs. Pew's lap. Her cheeks were aflame with abject humiliation over having her naked bottom exposed to the gaze of these two strangers. Her bottom still had a warm, stinging sensation from the smack Mrs. Pew had just given her. She did not realize that was just the start of her misery.

"You will soon learn the proper way to ask for your punishment and the proper position to assume while receiving that punishment,” Mrs. Pew said sternly. “But for now we will concentrate on adjusting your insolent behavior."

She felt a cool rush of air as Mrs. Pew swiftly raised her arm over Emily's vulnerable bottom. There was a short pause and then Mrs. Pew's hand came down with cruel efficiency on the center of her right cheek. Another stinging smack followed, this one landing on the girl’s left buttock. Emily howled with pain and indignation as Mrs. Pew continued to abuse her virgin bottom, peppering both the seat and her upper thighs with a string of stinging smacks. With each blow, Emily’s bottom grew hotter with a painful stinging itchy sensation that quickly increased to an unbearable level. She desperately tugged on her arms in an effort to shield her bottom from further abuse, but Mrs. Pew held strong to the rolled-up torn chemise wrapped like a vise around Emily's wrists. Emily screamed herself hoarse.

"Please, please stop!” she wailed. “Please, I beg you! Stop!" But the blistering punishment continued, and it was only after Emily's bottom glowed a satisfying red that Mrs. Pew let up.

"Now, into the bath with you," she told a distraught Emily, who gingerly raised herself off of Mrs. Pew's lap with a little assistance from Mrs. Weatherby. Her big, beautiful green eyes overflowed with tears that streamed down her hot cheeks. Her wrists were still secured with the torn chemise, preventing her from trying to sooth her aching bottom.

"Do not make me repeat myself, little lady. Into the tub!" barked Mrs. Pew.

Emily looked at the steaming water and gave a pitiful moan. The tub, which a moment ago looked so appealing, now looked like a torture device guaranteed to further torment her reddened bottom.

"But
..," Emily started. 

"Not buts, into the bath. Now! Unless you want another discipline session over my knee."

Emily most definitely did not want a repeat of the humiliating experience. With a great amount of trepidation, she placed a foot into the water and shuddered at its heat. Suddenly, she felt strong hands under her arms, lifting and placing her into the tub. 

"There we are dearie," said Mrs.
Weatherby in a soft motherly tone, completely ignoring the pained screech Emily emitted the moment her overheated bottom made contact with the hot water.  She immediately surged upward in an attempt to escape the scalding water, but felt another strong hand on her shoulder forcing her down. For such a slight woman, Mrs. Pew had a surprising amount of speed and strength.

"Thank you, Mrs.
Weatherby. I shall ring if I require more assistance," said Mrs. Pew. 

Emily was numb with pain and shock and barely felt Mrs.
Weatherby stroking her hair.

"I am so glad you are here dearie. It will be so nice having a little one back in the house!" With that, Mrs.
Weatherby departed to oversee the staff and dinner.

Mrs. Pew grabbed a bathing cloth and generously lathered it with a strong-smelling soap. She then picked up Emily's left arm and began to vigorously scrub, switching to the other arm, only after Emily was sure an entire layer of skin had been rubbed off. She then turned her attention to Emily's breasts
, wiping the cloth across the top and then circled around the underside, briefly testing the weight of each breast in her hand.

"These are beautiful my dear," she said as she tweaked a dusky pink nipple. "His Lordship will be very pleased." Emily blushed even more furiously, not sure how to react to either the handling of her private body parts or the blatant language. When Mrs. Pew reached between her legs, Emily used both hands to grasp Mrs. Pew's wrist and looked at her pleadingly.

"Oh, please not there! It isn't right to wash me there!" Emily exclaimed with weak desperation.

"Don't be silly. Little girls are not entitled to such considerations! There is not an area of your body, both inside and out, that will not be subject to examination and cleaning, among other things, from now on. His Lordship expressly instructed that you be vigorously scrubbed to wash away any vestige of that awful place you were forced to endure." The thought gave Emily pause. While
their methods were unorthodox, when was the last time someone tried to care for her? Not since her Mother’s passing. She was still shocked they had spanked her, but maybe if she had not been so stubborn and just gotten into the tub she would have avoided the punishment. And yet….