Becoming His: The Teaching of Rebecca (10 page)

Patrick bent close and said, “Keep your gown up and off your bottom, Becca.  Whenever you’ve been spanked Rebecca, you will display your bottom, apologize for being naughty and thank me for the discipline.” 

She obeyed without thinking, pulling her gown off her hot skin, the sight of her obedience causing Patrick to almost groan.  He nodded and said, “Turn your bottom to me little one and make your apology.” 

She blushed but didn’t protest as her husband turned her to face away from him.  His eyes took in her punished bottom as she stammered,  “I’m sorr… sorry I was naughty.  Th… thank you for span… spanking me.” 

Patrick felt his heart swell.  “Very good, Becca, but you need to properly thank whoever it is that roasts your little bottom.  Try again.”  She repeated,

“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mr… Mr. McGavin.  Thank you for spanking me.” 

Patrick chuckled.  “There is no need to be so formal Mrs. McGavin, after all, I am your husband.   You will call me sir most of the time but when I have tended to your bottom or elsewhere, you will call me Papa.  You also need to be specific about what area was spanked or paddled.  One more try or I’ll have to turn you back over my knees, give you another spanking and then you may try again.” 

Trembling and terrified of another spanking, she sobbed, “I’m sorry I was naughty Pa… Papa.  Thank you for spanking my bot… bottom.”

“That’s my very good little girl.”  He turned her back to face him and brushed his lips across hers in her first kiss. 

She felt her heart leap inside her chest. 

Meaning to take just the smallest taste, Patrick couldn’t help but kiss her again, his tongue tracing over the very luscious lips he had admired earlier.  He bit back his own groan.  He needed to get this little one home and in his bed and the quicker the better.  He took her hands in his, allowing her gown to fall to cover her nakedness.  He stood and Rebecca attempted to get control of her senses. 

Her bottom burned, her heart pounded and her blood rushed through her body.  Her stomach was tingling and some sort of ache throbbed between her legs where he had touched her. This time, her hand lifted to touch her lips, pressing on them as if she missed the pressure of his kiss.  Rebecca wondered if being spanked bare bottomed over your husband’s knees was a common occurrence in households.  Surely not?  However, she knew only the barest facts about relations between a husband and wife.  Not being allowed to have any suitors, neither of her parents thought it appropriate to discuss the matter.  Neither had she been included in the whispered conversations of the other girls at the school.  What she had overheard was embarrassing and confusing, so if husbandly discipline has been discussed, she had not been privy to it. 

Rebecca found herself regretting for a moment that she had been too shy to attempt friendship.  Perhaps if she had not chosen to isolate herself with her books, she might have learned something relevant to what she was now experiencing.  She was lost in her thoughts when Mrs. Andrews returned.  When she realized that the woman intended to dress her, Rebecca didn’t rebel, she no longer had the strength.

“Poor little bottom, it looks just like a very ripe tomato,” Mrs. Andrews commented as she turned Rebecca around and lifted the gown over her head. “I see your Papa has a very hard hand.  I hope you don’t make a fuss anymore tonight.” 

Rebecca looked at her feet, her shame intense and did as she was told, her aching bottom warning enough. 

Patrick stood in the downstairs hallway waiting for his bride. 

Eleanor was smiling as she piled yet another box on top of the rather large stack beside the door.   “If you find I’ve forgotten something, please let me know.  I’m sure we forgot something.  This is just all so quick.” 

Patrick looked at the large stack.  “There can’t possibly be something you’ve forgotten.  In fact, are you positive she is going to need all this?” 

Eleanor laughed and squeezed his arm, “Oh believe me, Patrick, she will need every item.  And,” she grinned, “Who says they are all for her?  I tucked in a few of my special items just for you.  I know you’ll find a good use for them.” 

Patrick laughed and had to agree.  When it came to anything have to do with adult little girls, Eleanor was the professional.  The house she ran was a special school where she had raised many of the little misses.  Men often came to her to either find their own little girl or brought their wives for training.  In fact, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t seen any of the sweethearts around.  “Where is everybody anyway?” 

Eleanor laughed.  “Patrick, it is late.  All the little ones are in bed.  You know they go down at eight.  It is almost eleven now.  I’d be surprised if your little one’s wails didn’t wake them though.  How was her first trip across your lap?” 

Patrick looked startled and then recognized that it was indeed far later than he thought.  He grinned and admitted, “Absolutely wonderful for me.  I’m sure Rebecca would disagree.  Her little bottom must be quite painful by now.” 

Eleanor smiled knowing that Rebecca had just received her first dose of many to come.  Patrick would be a very strict Papa.  She patted his arm as he looked back towards the stairs and mumbled as he wondered what on earth was taking so long.  Eleanor laughed.  “She’s fine.   It usually takes a bit longer at first to properly outfit a little one.  It would have been far easier for you Patrick if you had chosen one of my girls.  Your Rebecca is exhausted and confused now.  I dare to predict that inside that tiny little thing lays a demon that even you might find difficult to contain.  I’m sure Catherine has her hands full.” 

Patrick grinned, “She is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.  I knew it the moment she stood up to Danvers.  She has a great deal of fight in her and, my dear, that will make her surrender all the more delicious.” 

Eleanor smiled knowing exactly what he meant.  She reached out and patted his cheek.  “Then stop fussing.  Why don’t you start loading the carriage?” 

Patrick nodded and called the driver to help him.  Some of the boxes fit into the interior but a great deal had to be handed up to be lashed to the carriage roof.  The driver didn’t complain either about the lengthy wait or the extra work.  He knew Mr. McGavin paid very well for good service and he was glad to have been available this evening. 

“We should be ready in just a few more minutes, Henry.” 

The driver nodded and tipped his cap.  “No hurry sir.  I’m yours for the evening.” 

Patrick absentmindedly nodded as he walked back into the house pulling out his pocket watch.  It was going on towards midnight.  He had one foot on the first stair in preparation of hurrying up the process, when he heard a noise.  He looked up and his breath caught in his throat. 

Rebecca stood beside Mrs. Andrews, her hand captured in the older woman’s.  She blushed as she saw Patrick looking her up and down.  She felt embarrassed to be seen as she was but after getting her third spanking of the evening, she had finally relented and gotten dressed.  She felt ridiculous.  Her dress was short, barely reaching below her knees.  It was sticking out because of the layers of stiff petticoats that she had been put into.  Her feet were clad in slip-on shoes, her black stockings replaced with white ones that were held up by pink ribbons.  Her hair was brushed out to hang down her back, a large pink bow holding it away from her face.  She shifted her feet, the knowledge that the lace edging the hem of her bloomers was visible below the hem of her dress humiliating in itself.  She had been mortified when Mrs. Andrews had told her to step into the horrid things.  Only after the threat of her fourth spanking had she stepped into the frilly bloomers which seemed to be a size too small even for her.  The material pressed against her sex and against her bottom which was still throbbing and burning making her long for the split crotch drawers she had grown accustomed to wearing. 

Her breasts were unbound inside her dress, she was no longer allowed any undergarments.  Mrs. Andrews had explained that little girls did not need chemises or corsets.  Rebecca had insisted that her breasts needed to be bound, that it wasn’t proper for them to bounce about.  Mrs. Andrews had laughed as though Rebecca’s concern was silly and simply pulled the dress over the naked breasts without another word. 

Rebecca knew she looked like a very little girl instead of a newly married eighteen year old woman.  This was definitely not what she had thought a new wardrobe would consist of and was hoping that her husband would insist she be allowed to change into something more appropriate for a wife.  Seeing herself being dressed brought many questions into her mind but she was too tired and too confused and too afraid to voice them.  Instead, she was now standing here with her brand new husband staring up at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

He held out his hand, “Come here Rebecca.  You look absolutely perfect.  Come to Papa.” 

She blushed at the command realizing he not only approved but was pleased at her childish appearance.  Going to him wasn’t her choice either.  Mrs. Andrews led her down the stairs and placed her hand in Patrick’s.  Rebecca looked down at his huge hand that engulfed her own and realized she had been led around and passed hand to hand all evening. 

Her attention was brought back when Patrick spoke.  “What do you say to Mrs. Andrews, Becca?” 

Wondering how he knew she’d gotten another spanking, she blushed and said, “I’m sorry I was naughty, Mrs. Andrews.  Tha… thank you for spanking my bo… bottom.” 

Patrick smiled but wasn’t really surprised his little one had gotten another spanking.   “I meant for you to thank her for helping you dress.  However, we will discuss why you were spanked yet again.”

Rebecca blushed furiously and wished she had not mentioned her spanking.  She nodded and stammered, “Th… thank you for helping me dress.” 

Mrs. Andrews bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  “You are very welcome sweetheart.  I’m sure you’ll come back to visit.  I hope the next time I won’t have to redden your poor little bottom so much.” 

Rebecca felt as if she would constantly have a red face as well as a throbbing red bottom.   

Patrick chuckled and thanked the woman himself.  He picked up a pink wool cape that was hanging over the banister and drew it over Rebecca’s small form.  He tilted her head back and tied the silk pink ribbon under her chin after drawing the fur edged hood over her gleaming head. 

Eleanor handed the girl a small fur muff and watched as Rebecca placed both of her hands into it as if seeking comfort. 

Patrick turned to Eleanor and after thanking her and kissing her goodbye.  Then he simply bent and scooped his bride off her feet.  She yelped and one hand came free as she clung to his coat.  Patrick smiled, holding her tightly in his arms as he walked down the porch to the waiting carriage. 

If Henry noticed the extreme difference in Rebecca’s appearance, he was smart enough not to say a word.  He had been to Miss Eleanor’s establishment many times and knew what type of business she ran.  Though he didn’t understand the needs of the men that favored this type of life, his wallet certainly appreciated the need.  He simply opened the carriage door and then closed it after Patrick lifted Rebecca inside and then followed. 

Rebecca had seen the look on the driver’s face and seen his knowing smile and her mortification returned.  She attempted to pull her dress down to cover her legs but the petticoats wouldn’t allow it.  She looked up to see Patrick grinning at her.  She blushed and looked way.  She gaped at all the boxes that took up most of the room. 

Patrick grinned.  “They are all for you sweetheart.  Papa bought you many presents for your new life.” 

She didn’t know what to say but found herself terrified to even think about what they might contain though she sincerely hoped more age appropriate clothing filled some of the boxes. 

By the time the driver stopped the carriage, Rebecca was sound asleep, her head resting against the pile of boxes.  Patrick enjoyed just watching her.  She looked so young and innocent in her sleep, her face soft.  He certainly enjoyed her new attire.  He had thought she was a beauty but seeing her dressed as she was, her slim little ankles tucked up underneath her—the lace of her bloomers covering most of her shapely legs—confirmed it.  He continued to gaze at her.  Her breasts were much fuller than he had originally thought even covered as they were now.  He remembered the sight of her little nipples puckered against her nightgown.  Her bottom was absolutely the most beautiful sight in the world, full and round, the cheeks bouncing wonderfully under his hand. She had the palest skin, almost translucent.  He grinned knowing that it would give him endless pleasure in watching the alabaster turn to crimson again and again. He suppressed a groan of need.  He watched as she squirmed a bit as if she had heard the sound of need in his voice.  She didn’t waken.  She was obviously exhausted in more ways than one. It wasn’t long before the carriage rolled to a stop. 

Henry opened the door and also smiled.  “She is a little beauty, sir.” 

Patrick climbed out of the carriage and passed a large stack of bills to Henry.  “Thank you Henry.  She is my wife.” 

Henry’s face didn’t show his surprise.  He tipped his hat, “Congratulations sir, I wish you and the missus a lifelong of happiness.” 

Patrick couldn’t contain his smile.  He patted Henry on the shoulder and then reached inside the carriage to pick up his bride.  She turned her face into his neck, never even waking.  “Thank you Henry.  I guarantee I couldn’t be happier.  Just bring the boxes inside the door.  I’ll carry them upstairs tomorrow.  I think it’s time this little one got to her bed.” 

Henry doffed his cap again and watched as the man carried the woman into the house.  Once they had gone inside, he shook his head.  It wasn’t for him to judge, but why on earth a young man like Mr. McGavin wanted a wife that looked like a child confounded him.  He shrugged his shoulders, pocketed his earnings and had quickly unloaded the carriage finding himself anxious to return home to his own wife.