Surrender Your Grace (11 page)

He slipped the gown over her shoulders and removed her two petticoats by untying them at the waist. This left her in her corset, chemise, drawers and stockings. “Kneel on the bench, please.” He waited until she settled on the kneeler which was about a foot above the floor so her feet were without leverage. Andrew had been eager to try out the bench since James had shown it to him. He knew that when she bent forward her full bottom would be at the perfect height for his attentions.

“We’ll leave the corset on with a few adjustments.” He pulled her chemise down baring her breasts. They sat atop her corset like an offering to him. Unable to resist he caressed each mound and tweaked the nipples firmly. “So lovely, my dear, too bad we have to spend our precious time together engaged in discipline instead of pleasure. Now, bend over.”

After she took her place, he adjusted her position so the upper platform of the bench supported her rib cage and abdomen. Her breasts were left to hang over the plank, free to play with or chastise as necessary. She wasn’t ready for the latter yet, but he enjoyed looking at her nearly naked and positioned submissively before him. Next, Andrew pulled her chemise up over her bottom and left it bunched at her waist. This revealed her loose drawers and her black stockings. Making quick work of the drawers which now sat around her bent knees, her bare bottom was prettily framed by the remaining silk stockings. Unable to resist the tantalizing display, his warm hand caressed her wide hips and buttocks. She wiggled and adjusted her position under his hand. SMACK!

“Stay still, Cecilia. Move your knees apart and get your balance.”

Obediently she spread her knees apart and found the position much more comfortable and stable. Hearing his footsteps crossing the room she glanced over her shoulder to see what he was doing. Surely the one smack was not the extent of this punishment.

“Eyes forward, and stay in the position I have placed you in.”

She heard a splash and then a whippy noise through the air. Confounded by the sounds she still kept her position, reluctant to add to her upcoming punishment. Heavy footsteps sounded and momentarily he was standing beside her.

“Look at me, Cecilia.”

She instantly turned her head in compliance then gasped in alarm when she saw the tied bundle of sticks he held in his hand.

“Do you know what this is?”

She shook her head negatively, but as she stared at the ominous looking punishment tool a feeling of dread crept over her.

“This is a birching rod, something that I’m afraid you will become overly familiar with until you curb that tongue of yours. You sound more like an East End harridan than my duchess.” He began to lecture again. “Although I understand your anger toward your sister, I cannot tolerate such language from your lips. As my wife, your actions must always be above reproach. Although I don’t often heed town gossip, the scandalmongers can be vicious toward ladies and I won’t have your name bandied about as the latest
on dit
over afternoon tea. We already have our impromptu marriage to deal with.”

“I’m sorry My Lord,” she murmured not noticing she had reverted to formal address. She found it ironic that he was so concerned about her creating a scandal. How much gossip would it cause if it became known that her new husband had taken up with his old paramour within days of his marriage? Cici would be a laughing stock. Not to mention if she found it to be true, she would be devastated and wouldn’t know how to forgive him.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes My Lord.” Cici had no idea what else he had rambled about, and she bowed her head, nervously gripping her fingers around the edge of the bench hoping he wouldn’t ask. She was prepared to wait patiently until he finished his lecture and was ready to pronounce sentence. Andrew always waxed long when he was teaching her a lesson.

“That’s twice now so we’ll add that to your tally as well.” He patted her bottom gently when she sent him a confused look. “You do realize that you use my formal title when you are worried or anxious, don’t you?”

“I do?”

“Yes, you have been ‘My Lording’ me since we entered the study. Maybe during punishment it seems most appropriate to you since I am enforcing my authority over you. And at times like these Lord and Master indeed sounds applicable, but I still don’t like.”

Cici inhaled sharply. Was he serious? She absolutely refused to call him master no matter the cost to her bare bottom.

“Are you ready for your chastisement then, Cecilia? The birch rod is famous for its sting.”

“Have you ever been birched, My Lord?” She simply could not call him master.

“That’s three, and yes I have felt the sting of the birch. In fact, my father took the rod to me often as a lad. Once I took one of his guns on a hunting expedition and he lathered me good. Over a hundred strokes if I remember correctly.”

Upright instantly upon hearing that ridiculously high number she begged him, “Oh Andrew, please. I am sorry for my behavior and I understand the need for punishment but one hundred strokes, that many would surely kill me.”

Putting a large hand between her shoulder blades, he gently guided her back over the bench. “Remain in position or I will bind you. You are going to have to trust me, wife. I am your husband and have no intention of harming you. Understand that when I give correction it is to provide guidance for your wellbeing and the good of our marriage. The birch will raise a good bit of fire on your skin, but I will be careful not to cut you and the way I employ it, it very rarely bruises.”

He paused to caress her exposed skin. Soft, smooth and pale, it was flawless considering her last spanking had been their first night at Arrandale which was over a week ago. He had gone easy on her then being new to his discipline.

“Do you know why I chose the birch rod for your punishment?” He didn’t expect an answer so was surprised by her offhanded, “I don’t know, because it’s better than a burnt stick in the eye?” Andrew had a hard time containing his chuckle and had to bite his tongue. She really was very entertaining.

“Cecilia, in your position can you really afford to be flippant?”

“I’m sorry, My Lord, I’m just frightfully nervous.”

“Mind your tongue, it is after all the reason you are in this position. And that’s four, by the way. Now then, where was I?”

“The reason for the birch…”

“It's quiet.” He flicked the birch rod through the air and it made a small swishing noise. “We have a house full of servants. With the birch, the only sound we have to worry about is that which comes from your beautiful lips. ” He came around the front of the bench and crouched before her. Cupping her soft cheek he angled her face so she could see him. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed so I have this strap for you to bite down on. I won’t go easy on you like the last time, Cecilia. Your behavior cannot go unchecked.”

Easy? The last time she hadn’t sat comfortably for three days. He called that easy? Granted, some of the soreness had been from the taking of her virginity but that discomfort had originated from other intimate places. She remained silent, not wanting to test his patience further.

Andrew leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her dry lips; then he offered her the leather bit. When she didn’t immediately open her mouth, he pressed her to take it. “Trust me; you’ll be thanking me for it before this is over.”

An ill-advised eye roll was her immediate response and she regretted it instantly. “My Lord, you promised you’d be patient with me, remember?”

“I did at that, Cici.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead after he slipped the thick leather between her teeth. “And I haven’t forgotten.” He stood and walked behind her adding, “That’s the reason you’ll be feeling the sting of the birch instead of the strap or the cane. However, you are up to five ‘My Lords’ now. So once the birching is complete and you have rested for a bit, you’ll feel the flat of my hand for that. Let’s try not to add anymore to the tally for now, hmm?”

Ignoring her groan of protest, he stepped behind her and picked up the birch rod ready to apply it to her exposed skin. “This birch rod has been soaking in a brine bath which keeps the limbs supple and acts as a disinfectant.”

The first brush of the birch rod landed and Cici was surprised at the negligible sting which was more like a mild scratching sensation. Cici relaxed, she could bear this.

Andrew labored away behind her. The birch making a steady swishing noise as he applied the whippy branches across her entire bottom and upper thighs. “You’ve had about ten strokes now and your pale cheeks are beginning to take on a nice pink hue. As the rod strikes already tender skin you will begin to feel a different sensation soon enough.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, she started to feel a heated, burning sensation. She mumbled around the leather in her mouth, “It's stinging terribly Andrew.”

He paused to check her skin condition and found nothing to be concerned about, so he continued. “Bite down on the leather, Cecilia.” He landed another series of steady swishing blows; the intensity the same as the first stroke. “This rod consists of about a dozen limbs, the more limbs, the more spring as it lands against your cheeks which reduces the impact so you don’t bruise. I want you to feel the sting and heat, not bruise or injure you after all.”

Biting down on the leather her response was mumbled gibberish.

Leaning over, he removed the leather bit and asked her to repeat herself. Panting for air as her bottom blazed she shook her head, “I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t an option, wife. What did you say?” He slapped her burning bottom with his large open palm, one smack to each cheek. A tear rolled down her cheek, which he brushed away gently with his thumb. His firm tone belied the gentle caress. “I’m waiting.”

“I said, how considerate of you, My Lord.”

Sass, right in the middle of a punishment his wife was giving him lip. He couldn’t believe it but still he was amused. Reinserting the bit, he moved back to her bottom where she wouldn’t see his mirth. “Your audacity is overwhelming, and very imprudent. We aren’t through with your thrashing by half and yet you dare to sass me like an impertinent chit.”

“I’m sorry, My Lord but I did say I’d rather not repeat it.”

A chuckle of laughter escaped at that. “So you did, my dear. So you did. What is your tally up to now, Cecilia?”

“What?”

“The ‘My Lording’ continues. You are up to seven I believe. After the birch, a hand spanking is going to burn like fire, so I suggest you stop and call me Andrew as I have asked repeatedly.”

Swish, swish, swish. He landed another ten lashes with the birch stopping when she had no more sassy remarks or comments. Instead he saw a remorseful and thoroughly punished young woman with reddened tear-filled eyes and a well-birched behind. Afterwards, when she started to stand he corrected her, “Uh, uh, uh, Cecilia. I want you to stay bent over the bench with your punished backside on display while I work on some correspondence. Then you shall come across my knee for the remainder.”

“You can’t be serious, Andrew.”

“Of course I can, and I am. Spread your legs wider.”

“But my… uh, private areas will show and my knees are beginning to ache.”

“You may stand then,” he said as he made allowances for her discomfort and helped her to rise. “But you will stand bent over the bench. I will enjoy your spectacle every moment as I work.” His hand gently grazed her heated skin, the warmth rising as if from a crackling hot fire in the hearth. He dipped his fingers between her thighs testing the moisture there and found she was sopping wet. He played there for a bit, smiling. Somehow chance had brought him a woman who matched his tastes exactly. “Spread wider, Cici.” He took his foot and moved hers apart until the drawers that were stuck at her knees were stretched to the limit. “Very good, now stay this way until I say you can move. I’m going to catch up on my personal correspondence in the meantime.”

So Cici stood, bent over the bench with her bright red, swollen and burning bum on display and a persistent and tantalizing tingling between her thighs. After thirty minutes had passed and Andrew had not gotten an ounce of work accomplished, he decided to have mercy on her and himself. “You did quite well for your first birching. Your skin is a becoming rosy red but doesn’t have a single bruise or cut upon it, although it was a very mild punishment.”

“I have to say, husband, your idea of mild contrasts greatly with my own.”

“That is because you are new to this. The birch is a schoolroom punishment tool, Cici. Young children and ladies have been disciplined with the birch by old governesses for centuries. Surely if a child can bear it, then you can as well.”

Rising from his chair, he crossed the room. “Let’s get your spanking out-of-the-way and move on to more pleasurable pursuits.”

“Oh Andrew, surely I couldn’t bear it.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Andrew chided then proceeded to swat her seven times with his open palm as promised. He concentrated on her sit spots and thighs which he had avoided after the first round with the birch, knowing that a hand spanking was to follow. With each sharp smack, she yelped but held her position. Once he was done she was a uniform red from the top of her curvy hillocks to mid-thigh. He soothed her inflamed skin with a warm, gentle caress of his hand before asking, “Now then, Cici, which was worse - my hand or the birch rod?”

“The birch husband, it was most impersonal and caused the most terrible stinging and burning.”

“You can avoid it in the future by minding your naughty tongue. Now that we have that ugly business behind us, let’s see what I can do about this curious bit of moisture I see below.” He slipped two fingers into her moisture and delighted in the grip of her muscles around him. “I believe you protested a bit much, Cici, you are drenched.”

Moaning in mortification she hid her flaming face in her hands. She was just like the doxy he had compared her to. What decent woman became aroused by being bared and disciplined by her husband?