Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1)
Read Birching His Bride (Domestic Discipline 1) Online
Authors: Golden Angel
Birching His Bride
By G. Angel
Published
by G. Angel
Copyright
2012 G. Angel
Thank you
so much to all my fans who continue to support my writing endeavors.
A huge
thank you to AquaPrincess who helped me shape this new story, it wouldn’t be
what it is without you.
And, as
always, thank you to my husband who thinks it’s great that I write so much
dirty, kinky smut.
Table of
Contents
Prologue
Edwin Villiers, also known as Lord Hyde, was about to see his first female
birching. It was a highly anticipated event, for although the young man
was quite familiar with the birch from his school days, he hadn't realized that
such harsh methods could be used on the more delicate feminine sex. During
his school days he'd gotten into quite a few scrapes with his two best friends,
Lord Wesley Spencer and Lord Hugh Stanley. They were all sons of earls,
destined for positions of wealth and power, and had indulged in the usual wild
antics of the masculine rakish aristocracy. All good looking and charming young
men in their early twenties, they had a bit of experience with the feminine
sex, but both Wesley and Edwin had been astonished to learn that their good
friend Hugh Stanley, Viscount Petersham, had experience in an area they were
entirely unfamiliar with - that of feminine discipline.
It was
not unusual for brothers to watch their sisters being punished, in fact it was
quite often young boy's first glimpse at a girl's rounded bottom.
Unfortunately for Edwin and Wesley, they did not possess sisters. Edwin was an
only child and Wesley had three young brothers but not a single sister.
Until Hugh had begun telling them stories about his father's recent attempts to
bring his sister Eleanor to heel (as she had become rather spoiled and willful
under his mother’s care) they hadn't realized that young girls and ladies might
be punished in the same way that they and their brothers had.
Petersham's
father, the Earl of Harrington, was a strict taskmaster, although less so with
his son and heir than with his spoiled brat of a daughter, Eleanor. After all,
young men were expected to sow their wild oats and Hugh had never done anything
worse than most of his peers, certainly he didn't have the reputation of a
complete reprobate. Eleanor, on the other hand, was enough to make a
father despair.
At
eighteen years of age the young beauty should have been already presented to
Society, but her father had decided that she needed an extra year of polish. In
truth he had recently discovered that his wife had overindulged the girl to the
point of ridiculousness and now Eleanor was determined to get her own way in
all things, whether or not what she wanted was right or reasonable. She
and her mother had been living on their own in the family's house in Brighton
for most of the past six years while Harrington had attended to his business in
London and done what he could to raise his heir. Although he had visited
numerous times it wasn't until he'd spent a full summer in the company of his
wife and daughter, in preparation for her debut, that he'd realized just how
out of hand the situation had become and had made the decision to step in and
fulfill his neglected parental duties to his daughter.
Of
course he didn't blame her for her wild ways, he knew it was his wife's
indulgence that had created Eleanor's attitude, but he was quite determined to
correct it. Hugh's friends had been astonished to learn that his father
birched Eleanor as part of his corrective measures, his quest to curb her in
the shortest amount time possible so that she could be presented without
dishonoring the family. They'd been even more taken aback to discover
that Hugh had played witness to these birchings on more than one occasion, his
father deeming it necessary for him to learn how to tame a wayward woman.
Surprised by their interest, but acknowledging that they too might benefit from
such instruction, Hugh had offered to share this intriguing sight with his
friends, the next time they were on location when there was to be a spanking or
birching, they had immediately agreed.
Now,
finally, it was happening. They had come to Brighton with Hugh to visit his
family, and at first their presence had ensured Eleanor’s good behavior as
she’d been distracted by the presence of young, attractive men other than her
brother in the house. When she was younger she had followed them around
relentlessly, now Wesley and Edwin were doing their own following (much to
Hugh’s amusement and resignation). But Eleanor had been bucking her father's
decrees on matter of dress for months now and it had only been a matter of time
before she rebelled.
Today
Edwin, Hugh and Wesley had been escorting Eleanor and her friends through some
shops when Lord Harrington had happened upon them and seen that Eleanor had
snuck out of the house in a dress that he had already deemed inappropriate for
day wear. Truly, the neckline was too low cut for a morning outing, although of
course none of the gentleman remarked on it. Seeing the hint of Eleanor's splendid
bosom was not something Edwin or Wesley objected to, and her brother could be
understandably excused for not noticing his sister's breasts as he was more
focused on the other young ladies accompanying her. However her father was
enraged at this immodest sight and had immediately demanded Eleanor's return
home, promising her that she would be soundly disciplined.
Recognizing
his father's turn of phrase, Hugh had immediately asked his friends if they
wished to accompany him and see the promised sight. To which, of course, they
had quickly agreed.
Now
Edwin, Hugh and Wesley were quietly tucked into the gallery above Lord
Harrington's study, watching him lecture Eleanor.
"Are
you sure he's going to do it?" asked Edwin. In all his twenty four
years he'd never thought he'd see a sight such as Hugh promised, and he wasn't
entirely sure that it was going to be forthcoming today. He couldn't
imagine such a thing, especially not with a virginal young beauty like
Eleanor. All three men were quite successful with women, but they
confined their activities to widows, the bored married ladies of the
ton
and
the occasional ladybird. He had to admit to himself that he was quite as
excited about seeing young Eleanor's untouched body as he was of the promised
birching. Although he'd known her when she was younger, the older version of
Eleanor was much more attractive to him with her honey blonde hair and
sparkling blue eyes that looked at him so haughtily. She had the kind of
icy exterior that made a man want to see what he could coax from beneath
it.
"Absolutely,"
Hugh whispered back, his voice confident. "He's just making her squirm. He
says that anticipation makes it stick better."
"Then
why does she keep defying him?" asked Wesley, also keeping his voice
low. Hugh had assured them he didn't think his father would care about an
audience, but as he did not have actual permission, they were taking care not
to be heard. "You'd think that being birched would make a woman think
twice about her actions. God knows I did everything I could to avoid it."
Hugh
shrugged. "That's just Nell's way. Mother let her do whatever she
wanted and now she does as she pleases, no matter the effect on our family or
her reputation. Truthfully though, she's been shaping up the longer this
goes on. She just can't help herself some days."
The
three young men fell silent as Lord Harrington stood, waiting with baited breath
for the promised birching.
"Please
Father," her sweet young voice drifted up to their ears, pleading.
"This is really quite unnecessary."
"It's
not for you to decide what's necessary," said her father, gesturing
impatiently for her to get up. "If you hadn't worn that dress then it
would have been unnecessary. I'm burning it this afternoon and if you get any
more like it then you'll be punished even more harshly. You deliberately
disobeyed me, deceived your brother into thinking you were properly attired and
have brought shame down on our family. The number of people that saw you
so immodestly displayed, at such an early hour, is not to be thought of. The
Society matrons will pick you apart before we ever have a chance to present you
and then you'll never be wed."
Eleanor's
pretty blonde head was bowed, making her appear contrite, but the fists
clenched at her sides told the real story. The anger in her body only
intrigued Edwin more, he'd known that she had some fire beneath that haughty
exterior and now he was finally getting a chance to see some of it. His groin
stirred as he peered down at her, remembering the lovely, creamy swell of her breast
that he'd been privileged to see this morning.
"From
now on you'll present yourself to me before leaving the house, so that I can
ensure that you are never again so immodest in public. But for now, you will be
punished for knowingly disobeying your father and causing further talk about
town with your behavior. At this rate your reputation will be ruined before we
ever reach London. Now get up and get into position."
Her
movements jerky, Eleanor stood and walked around to the side of the chair, her
back to the three hidden witnesses. Slowly she gripped her skirts and
pull them up to her waist in back, extra fabric hanging down in the
front. Edwin stifled a low moan at the sight of her buttoned boots, knee
high stockings with garters and thin white drawers; it was all he could do to
keep from gasping as she leaned forward and it was revealed that she was
wearing the more old fashioned kind of drawers, the kind that lacked an inner
seam. The fabric parted as she bent over the broad, padded arm of the chair,
revealing creamy white buttocks and thighs, framed by the even whiter thin
fabric of her undergarments.
"All
the way in position, Eleanor," her father said sternly.
With a
little whimper that hardened Edwin's cock even further, she spread her legs,
pointing her toes inwards, which caused the blonde fringed shell of her cunny
to spread, leaving it as bare and vulnerable as her arse.
Edwin's
cock throbbed in his pants, fully at attention at this glorious sight and he
surreptitiously put his hand over the bulge at the front of his pants,
discreetly rubbing it as he watched his companions from the corner of his eye,
but they were paying him no attention. Wesley’s eyes were riveted to the scene
below him and Hugh was watching as well, although with much less interest than
Wesley or Edwin. He refocused his attention there as Lord Harrington nodded his
head approvingly and went to a side cupboard.
"He
says that position's the best for a spanking or birching, it keeps her from
clenching her buttocks," Hugh whispered in a lecturing tone, seeming to
think that it was his duty to provide his friends with the instruction that his
father had. That was something Edwin had known from school, although he
didn't stop Hugh from talking. He was too entranced by the sight below;
noticing that the position also seems to heighten Eleanor's vulnerability and
humiliation. Indeed, her entire upper body, which was laid over the seat of the
chair, seemed to declare her embarrassment to the young men, despite her
ignorance that she had an audience. Her little white fists were clenched on
either side of her head and Edwin thought he could see a pink flush on the back
of her neck, as if she was so red in her face that the color had traveled
across her pale skin to less usual locations.
The
birch that Lord Harrington pulled from the cupboard was tied with a red ribbon
and was much lighter looking than the ones that Edwin was familiar with from
school, although it looked plenty long and whippy. He felt a small sense
of relief that Eleanor wouldn't be subjected to the heavy rod that young men
were. After all, the pale glowing skin of her bottom looked much more delicate
than any man's rump.
"There
will be twenty strokes," Lord Harrington announced, ignoring his
daughter's protest.
"That's
more than he's ever given her before," Hugh whispered quickly. "The
last time it was fifteen."
"If
you move or try to cover yourself then we will start the counting over at one.
I hope this helps you learn your lesson daughter; I'm very disappointed in
you."
And
with that, he laid the birch across her cheeks with a hard slap.
Eleanor's body tensed but she didn't make a sound, despite the red streaks that
now spread across her creamy cheeks. Edwin rather felt like moaning himself.
Although there was nothing inherently erotic about what Lord Harrington was
doing, he found the sight of those creamy swells, marked with red, to be
extremely arousing. Another hard slap, this one higher up on her rump and
she jerked again. The third was applied firmly to her upper thighs, just
beneath her cheeks, and the young men heard the first feminine wail as red
streaks appeared on this more sensitive area. Two more strokes across her
buttocks, laying over some of the stripes that had already been applied, and
Eleanor's buttocks were turning a nice shade of pink even when red lines hadn't
appeared.
The
young woman was now gasping and crying, her legs obviously trembling with the
effort of remaining in place, as her hips moved up and down, wagging her rump
as she tried to escape the burning lash of the rod. Edwin had to grip his
hands to keep from actually reaching inside of his pants to grip his cock, it
was throbbing so hard inside of his breeches.
"Six,"
counted Lord Harrington as he landed another across the top of her rump, over
the first one that he had laid down. Eleanor shrieked.
"Please
Papa, please, I've learned my lesson!" she begged, her voice full of
tears.
"No,
you haven't, for you are still trying to get out of your punishment," said
her father, his voice weary, as if he despaired of his daughter ever learning
her lesson. Three more hard lashed landed across her rump and Eleanor
screamed, begging for her father to stop. Edwin was entranced by the sight of
her bum, which was now a nice, bright cherry red, her cheeks clenching and
dancing in between lashes. He rubbed his pego harder, feeling it throb
underneath his hand, the fabric of his breeches moving over it. Out of the
corner of his eye he saw Wesley doing the same, all of them were similarly
affected by this sight of domestic discipline. Hugh seemed both oblivious
and unaffected, watching with the critical eye of a student in a classroom. Of
course, since it was his sister perhaps he couldn’t see the appeal.