“I do not need this; I can hold still.” I jerk my arms, but there is no give. Mrs. Fairfax grabs one of my ankles and pulls it toward the foot of the bed.
“You will not need to worry about that,” she reassures me, patting the top of my foot before she attaches another leather band around my ankle. Panic is starting to rise up inside me.
“I do notwantto be restrained to the bed.” I try to kick at her with my free foot, since the other is already attached to another chain coming from the bedpost.
Easily dodging my kick, Mrs. Fairfax gives my pussy a short, brutal slap that makes me shout with pain. If I thought being spanked was agonizing, it is nothing compared to the shooting sting that goes straight through my core from my most tender bits.
“Ow!”
“Behave, little Betty,” she says firmly. “Or it will be ten more of those, to your pretty little titties and your pussy, and I will tell your Daddy about how you misbehaved. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have the opportunity to discipline you again.”
Utter horror is my reaction.
Despite my desire to fight her, self-preservation wins out and I let her attach the cuff to my other ankle without protest. I whimper as she spreads my legs wide, giving me almost no room to wiggle about because of how I’ve been laid out and secured.
Once I’m in position, she looks down at me critically, using nearly the same gaze she examined me with at Madame Atout’s.
“Hmm.” Reaching down, she plumps my breasts, which feels rather nice, and the sensation of throbbing from my backside – which had already been receding – seems to fade even more as pleasure trickles through me. Then she gives my nipples each a little pinch, bringing them to further hardness as I gasp. “There we go.”
Patting the top of my pussy mound, she gets down from the bed and then returns a moment later with a white towel that she works beneath my hips. The textured surface rubs against my sensitive bottom, reigniting some of the sting, but it feels different now… better. Good, almost.
I bite my lip against making any noises because I do not want to give her the satisfaction.
Not after she threatened me.
“Be a good girl for your Daddy, little Betty,” she said, climbing off the bed and giving my thigh a little pat in farewell. “He will be here soon to deflower you and then I will take you to your own room afterward.”
When I do not respond, she reaches over and gives my thigh a harder pat.
“Say, ‘Yes Nanny’.”
“Yes, Nanny.” I cannot entirely keep the resentment from my voice, but she does not seem to notice. Or if she does, she does not care.
“Good girl.” Humming under her breath, she exits the room with her usual sweeping, swishing stride.
The moment she is gone, I burst into a frenzy of movement. Tugging, pulling, twisting, jerking my arms and legs…
None of it is any use.
The bed is far stronger than I and so are the restraints she put on me.
Panting for breath, ignoring the way the throbbing in my bottom grew because of the way it rubbed the towel beneath it, I try to look up at my wrists again. She used a hook to secure them, maybe if I can inch my way up high enough to get my wrists out of the hook…
And then what?
I already know I will stay. I want my money. With that one spanking, I feel as though I have earned it. If I leave now, I will get nothing and I will have been spanked for nothing.
Squirming in place, I try to relax. Staring up at the canopy only helps so much. Nothing in this room is like Madame Atout’s.
Nothing in this room is what I imagined.
Especially not being tied in place.
I’d imagined my own house. Which was what Madame Atout had told me to expect. Noblemen did not want their mistresses in their homes.
Except this duke.
Letting out a long, slow breath, I wriggle my fingers. The restraints are not too tight, but twisting my hands back and forth and trying to pull them free slowly yields no results. They might not be tight, but they’re secure. There is nothing to do but wait for the duke to come and deflower me. Even the soreness in my bottom has muted and my mind drifts.
