Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust) (4 page)

She felt his fingers play with the tie around the top of her most private of undergarments, and thought she would die of humiliation. Using both hands he undid the bow, then let his fingernails lightly scrape the fine skin of her cheeks as he slowly pulled the panties down. She gasped in horror, her face burning with embarrassment.

Soon the flimsy silk underwear was dangling unevenly from her thighs, just above her knees. Lord Michael smiled; her clothing was in disarray, but she looked exquisitely attractive nonetheless. He feasted his eyes upon her splendid derrière. So delicious was it, it just begged to be spanked, so white and virginal. He caressed the skin with his hands, pinching lightly, watching the blood come and go. It would please him indeed to witness the white flesh turning crimson under his discipline. The rudeness with which she treated those unfortunate enough to have been born below her station was cause for discipline alone. Not to mention her lofty airs and graces. Oh, she was going to be spanked for certain, as she should have been many times before.

Though horrified at her forced nakedness, Elizabeth was being strangely calmed by the soft caresses of his hand upon her smooth skin. She also felt a peculiar excitement moving through her nether regions, and began to breathe a little easier. Perhaps it had all been a big bluff…

But to her astonishment and dismay his hand suddenly swept down, twice, landing with fire. She kicked out, the hot sting sparking through her like an electric shock. He had spanked her on each cheek with significant force, and her involuntary scream sounded odd through the gag. She waited, breathing heavily through flared nostrils, tense.

‘Those were just the first two of many, Elizabeth,’ Lord Michael said severely. ‘You’d better relax your body or you’ll be totally exhausted when we’re done, and you have a long day ahead of you. I won’t allow you to slack off for one minute either, young lady. Now calm your breathing.’

Attempting to do as he said she took several deep breaths, in an attempt to compose herself as much as the circumstances would allow. His hand landed again and she gasped, and then his open palm continued to rise and fall on her tender flesh.

Lord Michael observed with satisfaction as the spanking caused a deepening red glow to spread across her deliciously round bottom.

‘You are a rude, thoughtless, petulant, and arrogant young lady,’ he said as he continued to spank her, ‘and you are totally without humility.’

Elizabeth couldn’t believe this was happening to her as her muffled cries kept pace with his smacking hand. His words stung almost as much as his slaps.

‘You are disobedient,’ he went on, ‘and you are
disrespectful. Not to mention
wasteful and
wilful. And you treat the servants poorly.’

She twisted and wriggled but he held her securely, never missing a beat. Soon tears were squeezing from her tightly shut eyes, and with each smack she felt the sting more acutely. Then just when she was sure she could take no more, the punishment stopped. Her heart was pounding, her breathing ragged.

Lord Michael gazed out at the picturesque garden. The early-autumn sun was casting its mid-morning glory across the lush green lawns. The spoiled girl was attempting to regain some kind of control, so he waited until her writhing became less so, and when finally he felt she could pay him attention, he cast his eyes back down upon her ruby-red bottom.

‘Now Elizabeth, pay attention,’ he said clearly and precisely. ‘I am going to remove your gag, but it is under the following conditions. One, you are not to speak unless spoken to. Two, you will not answer a question with a question. Three, when I resume your spanking you must do your best to stifle your outbursts. If you make too much noise the gag will be replaced. Do you understand me?’

The thought of losing the gag filled Elizabeth with relief, so she nodded her head fervently.

‘Good. All right, be still now.’

He reached down and undid the knot nestled in her hair, removing the ascot. He then placed his hand under her mouth and slowly pulled the wet handkerchief from between her lips. Elizabeth could still taste the laundered cotton, but to feel the release of the gag around her head brought great relief.

‘Take it in your hands, Elizabeth,’ he ordered, ‘so you will remember that if you disobey those conditions it will be smartly reinserted.’

Carefully balancing across his lap, she raised her bound hands to take the damp material from him, but he pulled it away and she furrowed her brow, confused.

‘Don’t you have anything to say?’ he demanded, and she thought furiously, trying to understand. ‘Aren’t you grateful for the removal of the gag, Elizabeth?’

‘Y-yes,’ she stammered.

‘Yes what, Elizabeth?’

‘Yes, I am.’ What was he driving at now? She didn’t understand him at all.

‘Wrong answer, Elizabeth.’

His hand smacked again, two more times, helping her remember the edict, and though the smacks hurt terribly she didn’t cry out as she wished she could.

‘Let’s try again,’ he persisted. ‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, feeling foolish and cross that she hadn’t thought of it before.

‘Good girl,’ he said, his voice suddenly gentle as he tenderly stroked her stinging cheeks, and his words, in conjunction with his soothing caress, sent a strange thrill through her, penetrating her sorry state.

‘Elizabeth, when one is grateful what does one say?’ he pressed, as if addressing a simple child.

She thought for a moment, trying to control her panting, encouraged by his sudden change in demeanour.

‘Thank you?’ she replied, hopefully.

‘Thank you, what?’ he asked patiently.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she answered, finally understanding him now. She was to address him as ‘sir’ at all times.

‘Good girl,’ he responded warmly, and offered her the handkerchief.

She accepted the damp gag in trembling hands, so pleased she had gotten it right, and wondered what strange phenomenon was taking place.

‘Now, we shall continue,’ he said, ‘and when I ask certain questions you’ll know the correct answers, won’t you?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, suddenly filled with renewed dread of what was to come.

‘Are you rude?’ he began, the next smack landing on the last word.

‘Yes, sir, I am rude,’ she cried.

‘Thoughtless?’ he continued, the palm of his hand underlining the question.

‘Yes, sir,’ she wailed. ‘I am thoughtless.’

‘Are you petulant and arrogant, Elizabeth?’ he asked, two slaps hitting on each cheek.

‘Yes, sir,’ she cried, her sobs growing louder.

‘And disobedient?’

‘I am very disobedient, sir,’ she sobbed.

‘And the bath, Elizabeth, are you wasteful?’ His hand landing one more swat on her scarlet skin.

‘I
am
wasteful, sir,’ she cried. ‘Yes, I am wasteful.’

‘And how do you treat your servants, Elizabeth?’

‘Badly, sir,’ she admitted, knowing through the pain and tears it was true.

‘Yes, you do, Elizabeth,’ he confirmed, landing one more sound slap. ‘But you answered all the questions correctly, didn’t you? Good girl.’

Once again Elizabeth felt a strange sense of satisfaction at his words, though her flesh was smarting and she was mortified at the turn of events. Then as his hand travelled over her skin she heard him say, ‘Think about everything you’ve just acknowledged, Elizabeth, and what it is I’d like to hear next.’

He listened to her sniffles as he caressed her burning cheeks. With continued training she would become and remain pliable, obedient, and worth the time and attention of a gentleman. And she would have to be spanked regularly; such spirit as hers needed to be kept in check. Then at last he heard the words he’d been waiting for.

‘I’m sorry!’ she suddenly blurted. ‘Please, sir, I’m so sorry!’

He smiled with satisfaction. ‘That took you long enough,’ he said. ‘But perhaps the people you mistreated are the ones who deserve your apologies.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, happy to agree with anything he might say.

‘Starting with Grace. When you see her tomorrow morning you’re going to apologise to her, aren’t you, Elizabeth?’

The suggestion shocked her, and she hesitated fatefully.

‘My hand is quite tingling,’ Lord Michael stated, then reached down and pulled off his leather shoe. She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, and for a moment she thought he had been distracted. But then a shockingly sharp pain reverberated through her bottom and she shrieked pitifully.

‘That was too loud,’ he admonished ruthlessly. ‘Do we need the gag again, Elizabeth?’

The terrible sting of the shoe left her breathless, and she shook her head miserably.

‘N-no, sir,’ she stammered through ragged breaths. ‘S-sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.’

‘I should think not. Now, I asked you a question, Elizabeth, and you didn’t answer me so I shall repeat it for you. You’re going to apologise to Grace, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she said, her voice wavering, ‘I am going to apologise to Grace.’

‘Good. And then you will apologise to your father, and your brother, and Smithy. In fact, everyone to whom you have ever been rude. Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?’

‘Y-yes, s-sir,’ she spluttered.

‘Excellent.’ He smiled contentedly. ‘Now, just to even things up, and so you will definitely remember what will happen to you should you decide to disobey me…’ The shoe leather hit her other cheek with a scorching slap and she hissed, clenching her teeth, but she did not shriek as she had previously.

‘All right, Elizabeth,’ he concluded, ‘I am going to let you up now. You are to step out of your underwear and you are to keep your garments raised by holding them up under your elbows. Then you will stand by the window until I tell you to move. You may cry, you may sigh, but you may not talk. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she said, stifling a sob.

‘Good girl. Up you get now.’

He helped her up from his lap, and then stood to steady her as she stepped out of her fine silk drawers, which had been, much to his delight and entertainment, flapping as she helplessly kicked the air during her chastisement. Then obediently holding up her lacy petticoat and skirt, she walked shakily to the window and stood, head bowed, sniffling quietly.

As she studied the floor she knew she had been rude and wilful and unkind to the servants, but as the minutes ticked by the throbbing sting began to abate, she regained her composure, and she found herself wondering if her past behaviour, so unacceptable to Lord Michael, was her right. Wasn’t she born to it? It wasn’t her fault if she had been blessed by wealth and station. The servants belonged to her family. She may have been unkind from time to time, but they should consider themselves lucky to be even employed!

She wished she was anywhere but there. Suddenly she hated him – sort of. Actually, try as she might it was impossible to hate him, and the truth was she didn’t know what she was feeling. Except for the smarting of her bottom and the unexpected wetness between her legs.

She thought about turning and speaking to him, but knew if she did she would be disobeying him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. He would surely spank her all over again, and she was sore enough, thank you. No, she would stand there as long as he wanted. That would be that, and then she would go to her room and rest for the remainder of the day.

Lord Michael viewed his handiwork. Her bottom was a lovely blotchy shade of pinks and reds. Undoubtedly she would need some more hearty smacks from him before the day was out, and definitely more in the days and weeks to come, but she was fixable, he was sure of it. She was a very naughty young lady; even more so than he had at first thought. He knew it would take more than one sound spanking to teach her the error of her ways, and he was more than up to the task. Indeed, he was looking forward to the challenge immensely.

Long after she had stopped sobbing and the scalding pain had turned to a dull throb, Elizabeth was still standing, holding her dress, staring at the floor. She could hear Lord Michael moving about the room, and wanted desperately to speak to him, or to simply drop her dress and walk out.