Reunion (Hunter's Ridge Book 3) (17 page)

"Oh, yes, Papa," she moaned, not understanding that her eyes shone and that her words, her softly moaned request, confirmed his earlier thoughts. Her submission was completely and willingly offered as he slowly sank inside her bowels, stretching her uncomfortably, filling her so completely, and when he began to thrust, to claim her, to accept her submission for the gift it was, she screamed as he pulled the clamps off, one by one. His cock pounded into her bottom, his fingers pulling, tweaking, and then massaging the blood back into her nipples and her clittie.

They moaned together as they climbed the stairs to the heavens and shattered into a million pieces like conjoined exploding stars, each knowing they'd catch every single falling ember to cherish until they flew among the stars again.

Chapter Eleven

"Stand still," Mrs. Harris mumbled around the mouthful of pins she was holding. Ettie obeyed for an instant and then started moving again, making it difficult for the seamstress to place the last pin in the hem. "Goodness, Henrietta, you're like a little puppy dog, wiggling all about before it piddles on the carpet. If you trip when dancing because your hem is uneven, don't blame me."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harris, but I'm just so excited. I'm going to my very first ball!"

Mrs. Harris nodded and stood from where she'd been kneeling. "I know, child, and understand why you are excited. Now, do you think you can walk slowly across the room? I want to make sure everything is perfect before I finish the alterations."

Louisa, Lucy, Bea and Franny also watched as Ettie moved at a snail's pace across the floor. The dress was beautiful. An underskirt of dark blue chiffon moved like water beneath the overskirt of the palest blue tulle. The bodice hugged her tightly, emphasizing her plump breasts. Despite the seamstress assuring her that it was perfectly acceptable to show just a bit of bosom during such an event, Ettie still blushed hotly every time she looked down and caught a glimpse of the pale tops of her breasts.

"You look beautiful," Franny assured her, smiling at her little sister. "I promise the dress is appropriate."

"Thank you," Ettie said as the dress was carefully removed. "It just feels quite risqué to have my breasts bare."

Lucy bit her lip, knowing that Ettie had no knowledge of exactly how risqué one could feel when completely bared to a man for nothing more than the fact that he enjoyed looking at his naked little one displayed for his pleasure.

Ettie's excited voice jerked her attention back to the room. "It's your turn, Franny!"

Franny's dress was a soft shade of violet. The moment it was pulled over her head and she turned to face her sisters, they all gasped. The gown fit her perfectly, the tops of her breasts framed beautifully in the square neckline. Sleeves covered her arms to end at her wrists, white lace draping across the backs of her hands. The back was more of a corset than anything Lucy could think of, the ribbons of the lacing allowing the dress to fit like a glove where it needed, and the fullness of the skirt swished about her feet.

"Oh, Franny, you look like a real princess!" Ettie said, clapping her hands.

Louisa had been surprised but admitted to being pleased when Edward informed her that she was to have a new gown as well. Since Mrs. Harris already had Lucy's measurements and had known her twin was going to be visiting, it only made good business sense to have prepared an additional gown. Besides, as she had explained quietly to Molly, if Lucy's sister's Papa didn't purchase the forest green velvet gown for the young woman, she was fairly sure Lucy's Papa would at some future point in time.

Helping Louisa into it, Mrs. Harris shook her head. "It truly is amazing how identical you girls are. I'm surprised your Papas can tell you apart."

Lucy giggled and was quickly joined by Louisa. They told the story of how they had often traded places in school or to trick their own parents.

"Did you ever get caught?" Ettie asked, her eyes wide with the telling of the stories.

"Yes, and believe me, we learned our lesson," Lucy confessed, rubbing her backside. "Uncle Edward didn't find it the least bit amusing. I'll never forget the feeling of that awful birch!" Realizing what she'd admitted, she looked around to see if their faces displayed horror. Seeing nothing of the sort, she relaxed. "It was a pretty stupid thing to do. I suppose I deserved it."

Giggles and laughter continued as stories were shared. Lucy slipped off her new beautiful burgundy velvet dress after Mrs. Harris had made the final adjustments. Bea was last; her gown a gold colored taffeta. Mrs. Harris, her mouth once more full of pins, made tsking sounds as she adjusted the fit yet again. As the dress was carefully pulled over Bea's head so as not to disturb the new pins' placement, Bea's eyes met those of the seamstress, her face flushed.

"You girls are all going to be the belles of the ball," Mrs. Harris said.

"If we are, it is only due to your talent," Lucy complimented, giving the woman a hug. "You are like the fairy godmother in Cinderella, changing our rags into beautiful gowns."

"Hardly rags, my dear," the woman said, though her face showed her pleasure. "But thank you. It is truly a pleasure dressing such sweet young ladies."

"Can you stay for lunch? We'd love to have you," Molly said, as she helped the girls back into their own clothing. Tying the last bow, she clapped her hands, instructing them to wash up for luncheon.

"Oh, that's very kind of you, my dear, but I must get to work right away. No rest for fairy godmothers, you know," Mrs. Harris replied.

The group walked her to the door, standing and waving until her carriage pulled away. Talk of dresses and the ball ended as they began to discuss the dinner party the next evening.

"You're going to love meeting Emmie, Louisa," Ettie said, as she slipped into her chair. "I've been waiting to go to their house for months. You know, her Papa let us choose a kitten for her birthday! He is so cute, I can't wait to see how much he's grown."

"I'm looking forward to meeting both Emmie and Socrates. I feel as if I know them already, as Lucy writes about them quite often. Do you know who else is attending?"

Ettie looked a bit flustered at the question. "I don't know. Bea, do you?"

Bea looked up from her bowl of soup. "It isn't necessary to share a guest list, Ettie. I'm sure that whomever Lord Northbridge has invited will be quite pleasant."

Ettie shrugged. "Well, I suppose, but I wanted to play with Emmie and not just eat dinner."

Franny gave her sister a look. "You need to remember to be on your best behavior. It's a formal dinner party and not like the ones they shared with us when they visited."

"I just hope it isn't boring."

The others laughed, and Lucy assured her that she doubted any time spent with Emmie would be boring. Her assurance seemed to settle the question as they finished their luncheon.

Molly sent Franny and Ettie upstairs for their naps and when Ettie pouted, stating that she wasn't tired and wanted to work on the jigsaw puzzle, Molly shook her head.

The men were gone, Lucas having taken Edward into town to meet another prospective business partner, and Frank was somewhere on the estate. "Your brother's absence leaves me in charge, young lady. Are you trying to see if I'll ignore your naughtiness? Whining little girls lose the privilege of attending parties; boring or not."

Ettie shook her head, her eyes widening, and Lucy wondered if they did so because she hadn't given a thought to being spanked by Nanny Molly, or if she was suddenly terrified that her pouting had just caused her to lose the invitation.

"No, Nanny Molly. I'll take a nap."

"I thought you might," Molly said with a smile. "I'll be in to check on you in a moment. I suggest you are snuggled in your bed by then."

Molly tucked the twins into their cribs, and did go to check on Ettie, who was pretending to already be asleep, her tightly clenched eyes giving her away. "That's a good little girl," Molly murmured, bending to kiss a soft cheek. She, too, was looking forward to the dinner party, and didn't care if it was boring. She'd most likely be eating her dinner in either the kitchen or one of the small parlors, and would have Bertha, Emmie's nanny, for company. Taking her basket, she returned downstairs to spend a few hours knitting and enjoying tea with Mrs. Mayes.

"Are you asleep?" Lucy whispered, looking across the distance to Louisa's crib.

"No. I'm not tired," Louisa whispered back.

"Me either. Papa talked to me about Ettie," Lucy admitted, and then told her sister what had been discussed.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens," Louisa sighed, turning onto her side, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Are you okay?"

"Just a bit sore." Louisa hesitated, then giggled. "Papa played pretty hard yesterday, and again last night."

Lucy giggled as well. "It's funny how play can still make one sore, isn't it?"

More giggles floated from the other crib. "Yes, but it's a very good kind of sore."

"What happened?"

"I'm not supposed to say," Louisa said quietly. At Lucy's huff of indignation, she explained. "Something about an experiment. When your Papa explains, then we can compare, okay?"

Lucy thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, but I don't like keeping secrets; especially between us. I'll accept that it's necessary for now. I sure don't want to get into trouble—especially not this close to Sunday."

When her twin remained silent, Lucy thought perhaps she'd fallen asleep.

It was several moments before Louisa spoke again. "Does that mean your Papa punishes you on Sundays like mine does?"

Lucy forgot all pretense of sleep as she sat up in her crib, her stuffed cat clutched to her chest. She smiled when her position was mirrored by her twin, her own stuffed horse in her arms. "Yes, every Sunday, even when I've not be naughty all week," she confessed. "He says is it to remind me to be his good girl. I am not looking forward to this week; I-I disobeyed Papa, and he's promised I'll regret that choice this weekend."

"Mine, too," Louisa admitted. "I wonder if your Papa and mine talk like we do. It's like they want to make sure we both experience the same things."

"I think they must. Emmie's nanny, Miss Bertha, shared all sorts of things with Nanny Molly. She's the one who showed her how to tailor my clothes, and now yours are tailored the same way. I think maybe there is some special club—well maybe not a real club—but somehow men like our Papas learn or share all sorts of ideas on how to tend to us."

Nodding, Louisa stroked the stuffed horse's mane. "I wouldn't be surprised. We know they've gone to Miss Summers' before. I guess men need to be able to consult with others just as we do. I know it makes it easier, knowing I can talk to you and the other little girls when I see them. Oh, I forgot to tell you about our new pastor!"

"New pastor? What happened to that awful Pastor Reed?"

Louisa spent the next several minutes talking about how the man had been sent away, and the new one who had taken his place.

Lucy gasped when she heard about how Louisa had actually attended one of the after service sessions. "Oh God, was it just awful?"

"No, and that's what surprised me. I mean, yes, he paddled me quite hard, but even when he bared my bottom, I felt like I was only receiving what I deserved. Both he and his wife hugged me afterwards. It really was rather amazing."

"I'm happy for you," Lucy said, and then burst into giggles. "I mean, not that you got paddled—Lord knows, we get paddled all the time—but that it wasn't too horrifying."

"What's horrifying is that I trusted both of you to obey me."

Both girls' heads whipped around to see Nanny Molly standing in the doorway that separated her room from Lucy's.

"Imagine my disappointment when I returned to my room for a skein of yarn and heard all that giggling? You were put to bed an hour ago, and yet not only are you not sleeping, you aren't even lying down," Molly went on.

"We're sorry, Nanny Molly," Louisa said. "We didn't mean to disobey."

Molly approached Louisa's crib, shaking her head. "Do you believe Nanny Bremmer would accept that excuse?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Neither shall I." Molly lowered the sides of the cribs and pointed towards the spanking bench. "Both of you go and bend over the bench. Perhaps nice hot bottoms will make lying down more desirable than sitting up and talking."

The twins walked towards the bench, their eyes on their feet, their small bottoms crawling beneath their nappies. The fact that the nanny hadn't taken a seat in a chair told them that this spanking wasn't going to be a few well-placed swats. Neither had any doubt that their backsides would be burning, the heat trapped inside thick nappies before they were allowed to return to their cribs.

At the bench, they both bent, their tummies supported as they reached out to grasp the opposite side. Without a word, their hands linked, their eyes on each other as they laid their cheeks down on the surface. Lucy felt her diaper cover being lowered and her nappy unpinned and pulled free between her legs. At Louisa's soft moan, she knew her sister was being prepared; her own bottom bared.

"We'll start with my hand," Molly informed them. "Fifty swats each, and then you may ask me to blister your naughty bottoms with the tawse."

"Oh, please, Nanny Molly, we were just talking," Lucy begged, no longer giggling and instead yelping loudly when she felt the first swat land on her left nether cheek.

"For over an hour!" It was evident that Molly considered 'just talking' to be quite the naughty choice as her hand began to pepper Lucy's upturned bottom.

Lucy grasped her twin's hand and couldn't help but remember the time they'd both been across Uncle Edward's desk, bare bottoms lifted as set after set was given. Even as her rear began to burn, she was grateful Nanny Molly hadn't left them in position as she prepared a birch rod.

Lucy's red bottom gave testament to the fact that her nanny had a very firm hand. She sniffled and accepted the tight grip on her own hand as Louisa was given her fifty swats. Both girls had cried but managed to maintain their positions—at least until the tawse was pressed against Lucy's bottom.