Page 4 of Papa's Desires
“Oh, please, ma’am! I’m sosorry!”
“No amount of pleading will sway me, little girl. This freshly carved ginger root is going into your hiney hole, whether you like it or not. Now, be a good girl and reach around to pull your bottom cheeks apart. Be sure to draw them nice and wide forme.”
It took a combination of scolding and encouragement from her guardian before Cynny finally complied and reached around to pull her cheeks wide for the ginger root. Her face burned as she did so, but at least she’d stopped crying. She was too surprised by what was transpiring to possess the energy fortears.
When Miss Wickersham first pressed the cool tip of the carved ginger root to her tight hole, Cynny let out a loud gasp, but the older woman ignored her slight squirming and her noises of protest and pushed the tip of the object inside her, breaching her snugpassage.
The only other thing Cynny had had in her bottom hole before was a thermometer, and she flushed at her memories of the few times she’d been sick while at Talcott House and Nurse Lister had taken her over her knee—the best position, she’d claimed—then rubbed her bottom to help her relax before parting her cheeks, caressing a bit of salve over her hole and then sliding the thermometer deep insideher.
This, however, felt much different than a thermometer. For one, the carved ginger root was substantially larger and the pressure of it filling and stretching her caused her to become more aware of everything below her waist, particularly a strange throbbing sensation between her thighs that kept growing and growing. If she were alone right now, she would reach for her nether folds to discover what was the matter with her, but as her legs were still spread and her kitty still shamefully exposed, she was helpless to the feelings that were surging throughher.
“Oh, please, Miss Wickersham. I don’t think it willfit.”
“Don’t be dramatic. It’s almost all the way inside your tight little rosebud, Cynny. Just one more push. There, all done. Now, you will remain in this position for several minutes. Once I surmise the ginger root is having the proper effect on your insides, I will administer the final eight strokes you havecoming.”
The proper effect on her insides? Cynny wanted to ask what Miss Wickersham meant by that, but she couldn’t find her voice. But when a heated tingle began to fill her bottom hole, understanding started to dawn. She released a shaky breath and braced herself on the naughty chair, lest she give into temptation and stroke her aching privates or reach behind her to extract the ginger root, which was slowly beginning toburn.
“Oh, oh,” she gasped, peering over her shoulder. “I swear I will never misbehave again, if only you would take it out. Oh,please!”
A strange look of satisfaction glimmered in the depths of Miss Wickersham’s eyes as she walked closer, tapping the ruler on her palm, with her gaze intent on Cynny’sbackside.
“I will be happy to remove the ginger root, my dear, but only after you’ve taken the last eight strokes.” With that, Miss Wickersham raised the ruler and brought it down smartly across Cynny’s already tenderbottom.
“Oh!” Cynny couldn’t help but clench, and then she gasped at the unbearable increase of burning in her most private hole. Clenching made the burn even worse! Terrible realization set in. If she wished to avoid the sharp sudden burn in her bottom, she would have to force herself not toclench.
Thwack! Thwack!Two more blows descended upon her cheeks in quick order. In her surprise, Cynny clenched on the second one, then cried out in pain. She tried to stand up, but Miss Wickersham kept a firm hand on her lower back, preventing her fromrising.
The last five strokes came quickly. A small mercy, Cynny supposed. She somehow managed not to clench again, though her bottom hole still burned somethingfierce.
Tears coated her face and she sniffled, awash in misery and shame. Though the thrashing with the ruler was over, there was still the matter of the plug of ginger root shoved up her private hole. Would Miss Wickersham remove it, or would she allow Cynny to pull itout?
She remained bent over the naughty chair, her legs weakened and her entire body spent of all energy, except for the odd sensations that kept increasing between her thighs.What was that?shewondered.
“Cynny, your punishment is over. I hope you learned your lesson, and I hope that I must never be so severe with youagain.”
“Oh, I promise I learned my lesson, ma’am! You’ll never have to spank me again. I swear it! I’ll be oh so well-behaved, just you wait and see.”I’ll be good enough for a papa. I’ll be good so you won’t break my betrothal to Lord Kensington. I’ll be good so Talcott House doesn’t fall intoruin.
“I’m going to remove the plug from your bottom hole now, but you must stay bent over for a bit longer. The petals of your little kitty are moist and I will have to clean you up before you go tobed.”
Cynny’s head spun. A few seconds later, the headmistress deftly pulled the ginger root from her bottom, though the sting lingered, along with a phantom pressure of the fullness she’d felt until momentsago.
“The sting will gradually fade. You’ll feel back to your normal self shortly, my dear, though I have no doubt you’ll have a difficult time sitting down. I do believe I know a certain little girl who will be sleeping on her stomach tonight, that’s forcertain.”
To Cynny’s mortification, Miss Wickersham urged her legs open wider, then wiped a cloth through her nether folds. With her bottom hole still burning, her behind aflame from her spanking, and the pulsing heat between her thighs, it was a struggle for her to remain pliant as her guardian cleaned her up. Of course, Cynny didn’t quite understand why she was being cleaned up. She hadn’t had an accident, yet apparently her kitty had become wet. It didn’t make any sense to her, but she was too embarrassed to ask Miss Wickersham for an explanation. The sooner she got out of this study and back to the quiet safety of her bed—hopefully Daisy and Rosie, the friends who shared a bedchamber with her, had already fallen asleep—the sooner she could put this painful and humiliating experience behindher.
“You may stand up now and right yourskirts.”
Cynny obeyed, and when she turned to face Miss Wickersham, the older woman gave her a sympathetic look and pressed a handkerchief to her face, drying hertears.
“Thank you, ma’am. I-I hope you’ll believe me when I say I am trulysorry.”
“I hope this is a new beginning for you, Cynny.” Miss Wickersham raised one eyebrow, appearing thoughtful but also stern. “In regards to the moisture I had to clean away from your privates, I hope you will remember the rules about touching your kitty, young lady. You will refrain from touching yourself, no matter how tempted you might be. If I suspect you’ve been debasing yourself in such a manner, there will beconsequences.”
Cynny gave Miss Wickersham her most innocent look. “I would never touch my privates, ma’am. I know my kitty is a special treasure I must save for my papa.” But even as she said it, she wondered why her papa would want to touch her privates and why it mattered if she’d already touched them herself. Of course, she doubted the headmistress was in any sort of mood to entertain such questions, and Cynny wisely keptsilent.
Miss Wickersham patted her back and then grasped her hand, leading her out of the study and toward the hallway that housed the older girls. “Time for bed, little girl. I will help you change into your nightdress and tuck youin.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Though she’d just been soundly punished by her strict guardian, Cynny’s spirits rose at the prospect of being tucked in and having Miss Wickersham’s undivided attention during a time when she wasn’t being scolded orpunished.
She imagined it would be wondrous to have a husband soon—a papa who would shower her with attention every single day. A papa to bathe her, dress her, snuggle her, read her stories, and guide her to be the very best little girl she could possiblybe.
Of course, she needed to know why she must save her special treasure—her privates—for her papa. She needed to know what happened between husbands and wives, and she resolved to write Cammie a letter soon asking for the details Miss Wickersham hadomitted.
She supposed her papa—Lord Kensington—would see her naked frequently because he would give her baths and dress her. But was that the only time he would touch her kitty? When he was bathing her? Hm. Fiddlesticks. Her tummy flipped, for having thought the naughty word in prim and proper Miss Wickersham’s presence, among other inappropriate ideas, but luckily the woman didn’t seem to suspect the naughty turn Cynny’s thoughts hadtaken.
A few minutes later, Cynny found herself snug and warm under the thick covers of her bed, having been efficiently tucked in by Miss Wickersham, who had again reminded her not to touch her privates. Though her kitty still pulsed and she thought she was wet down there once more, she obeyed her guardian’s orders and closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. Lying stomach down, ofcourse.
