Penelope's Punishment (8 page)

The Nanny

Nanny pulled a resisting Penelope up the stairs and down the hall to the nursery.

“Stop! Where are you taking me?” screamed Penelope as she strained against the woman’s harsh grip.

“Why, to the nursery,” responded Nanny matter-of-factly, “where little girls belong.” She opened a door and pushed Penelope through.

Nanny greeted the maid waiting patiently inside. “I see Smither was thoughtful enough to send you to help me.”

“Yes, Nanny,” responded Rose, staring in wonder at the urchin in rags who was hissing and scratching at Nanny’s grip.

“Very good. First we must get our charge out of these dirty clothes.”

At that moment, Penelope broke free and ran across the room. Picking up the first object she could find - a doll - she began swinging it by its feet in a wide arch.

“Back off you haybag! I don’t know what kind of flummut flam this is but you won’t get the gammon on me!” Penelope backed into a corner, still holding the doll out in front of her like a weapon.

“Good gracious!” exclaimed Rose as her cheeks pinked at the strange vulgar language. “Nanny, what on earth is she saying?”

“Never mind the nonsense she is spouting,” said Nanny as she slowly rolled up the sleeves of her uniform. “This little girl is no match for the two of us. She will learn not to mouth off soon enough.” 

Nanny approached Penelope like a general going into battle. She went right while motioning Rose to flank left.

In short order, Nanny had dispatched the doll and had a struggling Penelope firmly by one arm. Rose grabbed the other. With her free hand, Nanny gripped the collar of Penelope’s boyish attire and ripped downward. The threadbare material gave easily. Nanny did the same to the back, leaving Penelope’s coat in tatters, hanging limply.

Penelope pulled at her arms and tried to kick their shins. “Get off me…you…you…mollisher! No! No!”

Nanny ignored her outbursts. “Let’s get her on the changing table, Rose. Once we have her strapped down we will remove the rest.” 

Penelope’s slight, undernourished frame was no match for the robust Nanny and her strong helper. Soon, she was placed facedown on a high padded table. A stiff leather belt was placed over her shoulder blades and buckled tight. Rose grabbed both Penelope’s arms and stretched them out, buckling her wrists to the top edge of the table.

“Grab a leg and a strap, Rose.” Nanny bent Penelope’s leg till her toes touched her bottom. She then wrapped another stiff leather strap around her thigh and calf close to the ankle. Rose did the same to her other leg.

Nanny looked at her charge with satisfaction. “Trussed like a Christmas goose!”

Rose giggled. “She looks like that awful frog dish the Frenchies eat!”

Penelope continued to curse and scream but they paid her no mind as they cut the rest of the clothes and chest bindings off her.   

“Rose, go prepare the enema solution.”

Nanny grabbed Penelope by the chin and tilted her head back. “We will have no more of your nonsense. You need a good thorough cleansing and I cannot have you shifting about.”

“I don’t want an enema,” whined Penelope. She had heard horror stories from fellow pickpockets and urchins on the street about the enemas they received in the orphanages and workhouses.

Nanny snapped back, “You have no choice.”

Penelope was tired of being told she had no choice. She started to struggle again, raising her bottom and shaking the table.

Nanny had had enough. She whipped out the leather tawse she always kept in her apron pocket. Penelope had no warning before feeling the sharp sting on her vulnerable bottom.  

“Ten to get your attention and another ten to keep it.”

Nanny was relentlessly efficient, focusing all her blows on the soft underside of Penelope’s bottom cheeks.

Each crack of the tawse caused a shock of pain which only got worse as her bottom heated under the blows. Penelope cried and begged, but Nanny did not stop till the task at hand was completed.

Looking at the cherry red bottom of her well-punished charge, Nanny told Penelope once again. “You will have your enema and you will be a good girl about it or you will get another twenty on your little bottom.”

A sobbing Penelope woefully nodded.

Nanny grabbed an unfamiliar object off a nearby table and held it up for Penelope to see. It was a large brass cylinder with a wooden handled plunger on one end and a nozzle on the other.

“This a Clyster syringe enema. His lordship is old school, none of those new-fangled rubber bulb enemas for his little one,” she announced proudly as Penelope stared open-mouthed at the evil looking device.

Rose brought over a basin filled with warm soapy water and placed it on the same table. Nanny placed the nozzle of the syringe into the water and pulled back on the plunger. The cylinder filled up with two quarts of water.

“Rose, please grease the nozzle with lubricant, careful to not use too much,” admonished Nanny. Rose acknowledged her understanding and gripped the nozzle, smoothing a dollop of lubricant over the tip and shaft. “Very good.”

Nanny moved to stand at the other end of the table between Penelope’s awkwardly strapped down legs. Penelope whimpered as Rose moved to join her. Now that both women were out of her line of vision, she had no way of knowing what they were going to do to her until it happened.

Nanny nodded to Rose, indicating she should spread open Penelope’s bottom cheeks. Rose placed her fingers inside the seam between Penelope’s cheeks and pulled them wide apart. Her fingers bit into Penelope’s already heated flesh, causing more stinging pain.   

Penelope gave out a startled cry as her little bottom hole clenched tight in fear. It was humiliating to feel the cold burst of air in such a hidden secret place, knowing both women were staring at her
there
.

“Very good, Rose,” smiled Nanny approvingly. With a much sterner voice, she addressed Penelope, “Now had you been a good girl, I would have massaged your little back passage to prepare it for the nozzle. Since you were such a naughty girl your poor bottom will have to take the nozzle unprepared. Remember this in a few days when you get your next cleansing.”

Penelope groaned at the thought this humiliation would be a regular occurrence in this household. She braced herself for the intrusion, forcing her bottom hole as tightly closed as she could. It was to no avail.

Nanny placed the stiff brass shaft against Penelope’s back passage. Although tapered, the long nozzle had no other give. Penelope hissed in pain as the nozzle breached her sensitive ring and slowly pushed deep inside of her. The thin, six inch nozzle met little resistance as it worked its way up her bottom. Penelope whimpered and squirmed but her movements were severely restrained by the straps, and also her reluctance to receive another harsh punishment from Nanny.

As the top of the warm brass cylinder enema syringe touched against her even warmer bottom cheeks, Nanny prepared Penelope for the next step.

“When I push down on the plunger, it will force the warm, soapy water deep into your bowels. The beauty of the Clyster syringe is that the enema solution will be pushed into your body with great deal more pressure, making it much more effective to my mind.”

Nanny firmly grasped the wooden plunger handle and pushed. Penelope immediately felt a rush of warm water enter her resisting body. She broke out into a flushed sweat as the pressure increased, her stomach cramping.

“You see, Rose. Our little charge will be in a great deal more distress as she lies flat on her stomach than she would be were she on her knees. The weight of her body is pressing down on the table while the increasing amount of water in her abdomen is pressing up. Isn’t that true, Dearie?” asked Nanny of Penelope.

Penelope’s only response was to groan.

“Please…Nanny….please make it stop,” begged Penelope through clenched teeth as her bowels constricted painfully against the soapy water intrusion.

“We must cleanse all the nastiness of the London streets out of you,” responded Nanny by way of explanation. “After this we will rinse you out and do at least two more enemas to be certain you are clean.”

Penelope broke down into sobs.

Over an hour later, a weak and exhausted Penelope was lifted onto the changing table by Rose and Nanny. This time she was placed on her back. She had endured three very painful enemas. Her whole body felt bruised, inside and out.

“Strap her down over her waist, if you please, Rose,” commanded Nanny, “and her wrists above her head.”

“Please don’t strap me down, Nanny,” whimpered Penelope. “I promise I will be good.”

“Oh, Dearie, it is for your own good,” said Nanny as she patted Penelope’s flushed cheek. “This next part is going to be painful.”

Nanny vigorously stirred something in a small bowl held over a candle flame. She added lemon juice and a splash of water.

Rose curiously looked over Nanny’s shoulder. “What is that?” 

“It is a recipe for removing hair, taught to me by an old Chinaman. Once the sugar, lemon and water firm into a nice paste, we will press it to our little one’s cunny to remove all that unwanted hair.”

“What? You’re both mad as hops! You can’t do that!” cried Penelope, pulling at the binds that secured her wrists.

“Hush, now,” scolded Nanny. “Your Papa wants you to have a nice smooth cunny and a nice smooth cunny you shall have!”

   Nanny rolled the mixture into a ball between her palms. She then placed the ball at the top of a restrained Penelope’s cunny. Nanny pressed down on the mixture till it was spread in a thin line down the seam of Penelope’s exposed cunny. “Now Dearie, I want you to take a nice deep breath and hold it.” 

A fearful Penelope did as she was told. Nanny placed a firm hand on her stomach. She grabbed the end of the cooled mixture and tore it upwards.

Penelope’s tortured scream bounced off the walls of the nursery. It felt like her skin had been stripped to the bone. The whole area burned with throbbing pain.

Nanny inspected her work. She smiled when she saw smooth pink skin where downy hair used to be. “Very good. A few more strips and your cunny will be all pink and pretty for Papa.”    

Rose wiped Penelope’s brow with a cool cloth as Nanny reapplied the awful warm sugar mixture again and again to her poor cunny. Penelope’s entire existence centered on the torment radiating from between her legs down to her bottom. The whole area pulsed with heated pain.

“Alright Dearie, you can cease your caterwauling. We are all finished. Honestly, you would have thought I was whipping you, you screamed so,” huffed Nanny indignantly. “Well if this is how you respond to a simple cleansing, then I fear you are in for a very long night once you receive your punishment.”

An aghast Penelope stared at the woman. “This wasn’t my punishment?” He had threatened her with punishment for running away, Penelope had assumed these women were sent to dole it out. 

“Heavens no child,” laughed Nanny. “Your Papa will administer that once you are fed and bathed.”

Penelope, distracted by her own wracking sobs, gave no resistance when Nanny and Rose hustled her into the bathing chamber where a warm bath awaited. Her only thought was on what her punishment awaited later that evening when she was once again alone with the man she was told to call ‘Papa’.

Punishment

Alex wandered out of his study in search of Smither. He didn’t need anything in particular from the butler other than companionship. He felt restless, knowing Nanny was upstairs cleansing Penelope. The knowledge that she would soon be ready for her first punishment was driving him out of his mind. He needed a distraction.

As he walked into the parlor, he was greeted by the site of a pale, bare bottom thrust into the air as its owner lay slung over the padded seat of an armless chair. Smither was standing over her, holding a feather duster. As always, Smither was going to provide him with entertainment he thought with a smile.

“What have we here?” he asked.

“My lord,” said Smither by way of greeting. His demeanor far more formal than the scene should allow. “Did you require something?”

“Perhaps the easing of my curiosity, Smitty?” answered Alex as he looked once more on the raised bottom of one of his housemaids.

“Ah, yes,” responded Smither with a small bow. “Daisy here took exception to my selecting Rose to assist the new nanny with the little miss’ bath. In a fit of pique she chose to throw down her feather duster. I am about to place it where she is less likely to…ahem…drop it, shall we say?”

This was just the type of distraction Alex needed. “A just punishment, indeed,” he stated as he took the seat opposite poor Daisy, allowing him an unobstructed view. “Carry on.”

Kneeling behind a whimpering Daisy, Smither placed the point of the feather duster between her legs. Daisy gave a start when she felt the cool wood against her warm cunny. The handle of the duster was long and tapered, with a series of ridges that allowed for grip. The eight inch handle widened to close to two inches as it neared the feather base.

Smither ran the handle along the seam of her cunny. While this was a punishment, he knew Daisy became aroused from pain. He would not need any additional lubricant. Satisfied the handle was coated in enough of her juices, he placed the tip against her rosebud.

Daisy gave out a cry when the thin tip easily pushed inside of her. Smither kept up the steady pressure, watching as her bottom swallowed the handle inch by inch. About halfway up the handle widened dramatically, Daisy felt a sharp bite of pain as her tight musclular ring was forced over a ridged groove.

“Please, Sir! I’ve learned my lesson. I can’t take no more!” she cried.

“You will take it all, Daisy.”

Smither gripped her hip and pushed harder against her resisting back passage. Daisy sobbed in earnest as seven inches of the hard wood was shoved up her bottom. Her stomach started to clench and cramp at the foreign intrusion. Smither gave the handle a full twist before thrusting the final inch in deep. Daisy screeched and gripped the legs of the chair harder.

Alex rose to inspect Smither’s handiwork. She looked like a strange bird with her butt cheeks hugging the plumage from the feather duster. It actually gave Alex an idea for his little one. 

“Nicely done, Smither.”

“Thank you, my lord,” answered Smither. “There is a second half to the punishment,” he said discreetly.

Catching the hint, Alex left the parlor.

“Come here my exotic little bird,” said Smither as he unbuttoned his trousers. “It is time for your feeding.”

She would have to misbehave more often, thought Daisy with a smile as she opened her mouth like a good birdie.

##

Nanny led a naked and trembling Penelope by her upper arm into the master suite. Looking about the familiar room, she noticed a new piece of furniture placed in front of the fire. Nanny led her straight to the imposing piece.

“This is traditionally called a ‘whipping horse’ but in this household your Papa prefers the ‘punishment bench’,” said Nanny in her no-nonsense manner, as if she had not just uttered something terrifying.

Penelope had a hard time taking it all in. He had said she would be punished for putting herself in danger, but she assumed he would pull her over his lap for another spanking. This was more alarming.

She started to pull back on her arm but was no match for Nanny’s superior strength. Against her will she was dragged over to the terrifying bench. It was made of scarred polished oak with a tapestry cushion on top and was just high enough for Penelope to be bent at the waist over it. Nanny secured her wrists with thick leather cuffs. Penelope could feel Nanny’s strong grasp wrap around her ankle, pulling the leg wide as she secured it with another leather cuff. Penelope started to panic and tried to kick out, but with her arms and one leg shackled, it was useless. Nanny grabbed her other flailing ankle and stretching Penelope’s legs wide, secured it.

“Please…please…Nan…Nanny,” whispered Penelope, still not used to having to call a woman her nanny. “Please don’t leave me like this.”

“Don’t be silly child,” scoffed Nanny. “You were naughty and you need to be punished. That is the only way little girls learn. No fussing or whining,” she scolded. “Wait for your Papa quietly.” Nanny left and took the candle with her.  

Penelope was left in the room lit only by the glow of the nearby fire, feeling trapped and vulnerable. She could feel the heat of the fire warming her naked backside. She tested the wrist restraints, but was truly and helplessly locked in.

The worst part was the forced stillness that gave her time to think.

What had she done?
Her mind spun when she tried to take in all the twists and turns her life had made in the last few weeks. She wanted to think she’d been doing just fine on her own on the streets, but she knew that was a lie She had not been doing fine. She had been barely surviving. And now this enigma of a man has swooped in and taken over. Having no real experience with men, she could not explain why he frightened and fascinated her all at once. He offered safety and security but at a very high price - her independence. Could she really just hand herself over to him like that? Allow him to control every aspect of her life? To treat her like a child? He said she had no choice, but she could always run again, although a part of her knew instinctively he would find her. If she were deeply honest with herself, it was almost a relief, to not have to scratch and claw for every crust of bread, to not have to always be alert to danger, to not have to keep up the exhausting disguise. But even with all that, could she do it? Could she submit?

Her thoughts were interrupted when he walked in.

Penelope gasped. Gone was the gentleman who cradled her when she was hurt, in his place was every inch the strict disciplinarian. He exuded power and confidence. Changed mostly out of his day attire, he wore only his black trousers. With wide eyes, she stared at the impressive expanse of chiseled muscle peppered with black hair. Pulling her gaze away from his flat stomach, she focused on the object dangling from his strong grip. It was a thick, leather strap.

“Bloody hell,” she cursed, desperately pulling at her tight restraints.

With a swift grace she thought only animals possessed, he was standing in front of her. Bent at the waist, with her head straight forward, she had a close view of his thick arousal straining against the fabric of his trousers. She gulped back the curse she knew would anger him further and refused to look up.

“Penelope, look at me,” he commanded, his voice deep and rough.

Craning her neck back, she lifted her gaze. Penelope could see desire mixed with fierce determination in his dark, hooded eyes. Knowing it was foolish, but unable to stop herself, she went on the offensive.

“You ain’t prigging me with that lobcock!” she said in a snarky tone, hoping calling his obviously large cock a limp penis would throw him off.  

“One punishment at a time, little one,” he said, gripping the folded leather strap harder. “I will correct that impertinent mouth of yours later.” Alex leaned down on his haunches so he was eye level with her. “Right now, we need to correct your dangerous decision to run from me.”  Penelope wisely kept quiet, struck numb from his intense words and stare.

Alex rose and stepped behind her. A shiver of awareness coursed through Penelope, knowing that behind her, he was staring at her bare bottom. After several tense moments, she jumped when cool, smooth leather softly touched the heated skin between her shoulder blades. He traced the length of her back with the strap, running it over the curve of one globe. Penelope felt of rush of moisture between her thighs. She was lightheaded with fear, and something else she feared to name.

“My lord…”

“Tsk…tsk…tsk, naughty girl,” crooned Alex, lightly tapping her bottom with the strap on each word. “That is not what you’re supposed to call me.”

Penelope wet her lips and tried again, “Papa…I’ve…I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this.”

Alex leaned close to her ear and whispered, “You have no choice.”

She shrieked and pulled wildly at her wrist binds. “Let me go, you bugger…you…you…wanker!”

Alex placed a restraining hand on her lower back. “Cease!” he ordered. Penelope instantly stilled.

“It is this wild, rash behavior we need to correct. You act with no thought to your safety. You open your mouth with no care to the consequences. You need this punishment more than you know.”

Penelope shook her head as tears coursed down her cheek, still denying what she knew deep down to be true.

“Ask for your punishment, Penelope.”

She shook her head, stubbornly pressing her lips into a tight line.

“Ask for your punishment or face a much harsher one,” he said with more menace.

Still she remained mute. She would be damned if she asked him to punish her!

“Very well,” said a resigned Alex. “Your punishment was to be ten straps to your bare bottom. You will now receive those in addition to a more exacting punishment.”

Penelope opened her mouth to release another stream of colorful, guttural language. Alex closed his open hand over her mouth and once again leaned in close to her ear.

“You have already opened yourself up to a more painful discipline than I had intended this eve. I suggest you hold your tongue before you truly anger me and make your situation even worse.” Her eyes widened in horror but she remained silent.

  “Let us begin.” 

Alex slowly wrapped one end of the well-oiled strap around his right hand, leaving two feet excess. Anchoring one foot behind him, he leaned over and placed his left hand on her lower back. Arching his arm, the strap swung through the air with a hiss before landing with a loud crack in the center of her pale, vulnerable buttocks.

Penelope’s surprised shriek was cut short as she ruthlessly clenched her jaw, determined to show no reaction or pain. Alex smiled…that would change.

He aimed the second swat lower, over her sit spot. She was so tiny that the three inch wide strap easily covered large areas of her delicate skin with every contact. By the third smack, Penelope could no longer contain her pain.

She howled in agony as the fourth hit her sit spot again. Her bottom, already warmed by the heat from the flames, now felt as if it were truly on fire. The pricking, stinging sensation was almost too much to bear. She went up on her toes and braced for another hit. She did not have to wait long.

Alex continued the assault on her unprotected bottom till it glowed a harsh angry red. By the time it was over, Penelope was choking on her own sobs.

“What am I looking at Kitten?” he demanded as he caressed her heated bottom.

Penelope did not even think to ignore his question. “My…my punished bottom.”

“And why was this cute bottom punished?” he persisted.

“Because I ran away,” she sobbed.

“Not just because you ran away,” Alex corrected. “You put yourself in grave danger.”

Penelope started to cry harder as the pain from the strapping settled in.

“Let yourself have a good cry, little one. I shall prepare the next punishment.”

Penelope’s eyes were practically swollen shut. Curls of hair stuck to her wet cheeks. Her fingers ached from clenching them into fists as she fought the pain. She was barely aware when Alex returned with a large, wooden box. He pulled up a small ottoman and sat directly behind her. If she wasn’t lost in such painful misery, Penelope would have been humiliated at his close position to her bottom.

Alex could see the moisture glistening off her smooth cunny. Running his middle finger down the seam and pressing gently, he was beyond pleased her body had responded with a mixture of pain and pleasure to his punishment.

The movement sent shock waves through Penelope. The pain had heightened her awareness of her own skin. His single finger had caused a jagged rush of conflicting sensations.

Alex sighed in disappointment. “It is shame this is a punishment, Kitten. I would have loved to lick your cream,” he said with a wickedly seductive purr.

His words were lost on Penelope. She was too lost in her own misery as a fierce throbbing had settled over her bottom and thighs. So it was with shock when she called out as his thumbs pushed between her tender cheeks and pried them open.

“Oh god! Stop! Stop!” she cried.

“Silence,” he ordered with a quick smack to her already stinging bottom. “You were warned. You chose to have this additional punishment.”