But the way he’d said it makes me think it means something to him, and I have no idea what.
Little Betty.
A Nanny.
My Daddy.
The words swirl around my head, the pain radiating out from my bottom making it difficult for me to think. To understand.
“Alright, little Betty,” Mrs. Fairfax says, coming around me. I feel her tug at the laces on my dress. “Let’s get you ready for your Daddy.”
Not ‘the duke’ anymore.
My Daddy.
Who was very upset that I had not read the contract.
Even though he read it out to me, I’m having trouble remembering exactly what he’d said. It had not been easy to concentrate while I was over his knee and his hard hand was coming down on my already burning nates.
I’m to be treated as a child.
The thought makes me huff as I realize this is what Madame Atout meant when she said the duke has particular tastes. She knew! And she did not warn me!
But it is worth the money, no?
Is it?
I’m humiliated and my bottom hurts and I’m still a virgin…
But there is no way to back out either. Madame Atout will not take me back if I break the contract. It is my own fault for signing before having her read it to me or asking more questions. Now I understand what my mother meant when she said greed leads to regret.
My dress drops away from my body, pooling around my feet. Mrs. Fairfax comes around to my front and tugs my chemise over my head. My shoes and stockings are next to go.
It is odd to be undressed by someone else like this, but it soothes me too. Surely things cannot be too bad when I have someone attending to my every need like this? Lords and ladies have dressers. The Duke called her my Nanny, but she is currently acting like my servant.
Which ends the moment I am naked.
“Onto the bed, little girl,” she orders, giving me a short slap on the bottom to get me moving.
I squeal, jumping forward, as the little smack has a much smarter effect on my already chastised cheeks than it had back at Madame Atout’s. Heat flushes my face as the fantasy of being undressed by a servant is immediately diffused. The spot throbs and I can feel the warmth of my skin under my palms, still hot from the previous spanking.
Biting my lip against retorting that the swat hadnotbeen necessary, I hurry over to the bed and climb onto it. It is very high, high enough that I feel small… and I feel even smaller once I am on it.
This is the largest bed I have ever seen, and being atop it makes me feel utterly tiny. It stretches out wide on either side of me and the canopy is so high above. I do not feel like I belong.
The sensation of being utterly out of place adds to the disturbance already curdling my stomach.
“On your back, little Betty.”
Hastily, I flop down on my back before Mrs. Fairfax can swat me again – of course, when my weight lands on my bottom, I squeal again anyway. The throbbing increases tenfold with any weight on it, even when I lay out so that it’s not all on my poor arse.
“Hands above your head.” The bed dips as Mrs. Fairfax climbs up beside me, although she is kneeling rather than laying on her back. I obey, and startle as she closes something soft around my wrists.
“What is that?”
“These will help hold you in place for your Daddy.”
That is no explanation. I twist my head around, trying to look up. It feels like leather and there is a short chain between the leather bands that clinks gently as Mrs. Fairfax stretches my hands up and attaches them to a hook that was hidden within the headboard carvings. I am not sure I would have seen it if were not for being in this position.
