As the last drops left her, she moved her knees apart, trying to reduce the awful feeling of the warm wet cloth on her skin. Opposite her the man stirred as the carriage came to a halt.
"We are here," the man said, getting immediately to his feet and pushing open the door. "Welcome to your new home."
Chapter 6
Edward felt alive for the first time in months. A real challenge, a woman in need of his unique style of education who would most definitely benefit from becoming a little more than anyone who he had taught before. As he stepped down from the carriage he looked across at Laura. She looked utterly defeated, her nappy sagging visibly even through her dress.
It wasn't the defeat in her eyes that pleased him so much. It was the defiance that still flared in her, waiting for a chance to emerge at the right moment. That defiance, channelled in the right way, would send her back home a completely different person. He just hoped her parents were prepared for the change.
When he had got her into the carriage, it felt exhilarating, to have her completely in his power and yet still she looked unwilling to submit, like a caged animal who was still dangerous despite her confinement. He knew he had to play this carefully.
He had been glad when she had called him insane, giving him the perfect opportunity to show her who was in charge. Taking her onto his lap and exposing her posterior had been all about discipline but as her curvy buttocks came into view, a thought entered his head for the first time. She looked delightful in a way none of the other littles ever had. Was her defiant manner revealing itself through her very skin? Was that even possible? He did not know the answers, he just knew the sight of her bottom made him want to do far more than just spank her.
As he smacked her behind and watched it turn red, she screamed and squirmed and fought to escape him. Let her try, she would soon learn such defiance served little purpose. All she needed to know was that letting go of her anger would do her good, submitting to him would make her happy, though he knew she was not yet aware of that. No matter, that knowledge would come with time.
At one point during spanking her, he caught sight of what lay between her legs and a spark of desire developed within him. From nowhere he found himself wondering what it would be like to spank her there, to make her yelp with surprise at the sensation before sliding fingers into her and then …
He shook his head, forcing the thoughts away. It would never do to touch one of his littles in that way. The scandal that might ensue would end his career. Better to think only of her development, ignore the lust that had begun to whisper to him.
He thought back to how she had looked in her bedroom. That mixture of modesty and bratty behaviour when he had stripped her. Her body with its pale skin and the perfect curve of her hips. The way her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. The swell of her breasts as she had fixedly remained still. It had been hard not to stare at her but he had managed, having done this so many times before made it easier.
Holding her fighting form whilst tying the nappy in place had given him the perfect view between her legs. The swells and folds of soft pink flesh had called to him and he had the same thought he always had when starting them on their journey. What would it be like to touch her there? He never gave in to the primal thought that crossed his mind at that point. So many times a daughter of a Lord or Duke had been naked on their bed and he had been holding their squirming form whilst tying a nappy.
The contract had given him freedom over them and he knew he could take advantage of his strength if he wanted to. But he also knew he would never do it. It would not be worth the tactile sensation of touching them for the consequences. He would lose his power over them if they lusted after him, if he gave in to his primal desires would be the worst thing he could do whilst attempting to mould them into better people.
So he just glanced at them as he glanced at Laura, knowing he had control over her was enough. Especially as she looked so adorable with the nappy tied in place.
On the carriage he had enjoyed seeing her discomfort, even as he had slept through part of it but he had awoken long before she realised he was alert and watching her. Whenever she looked his way he kept his eyes tightly closed but the swaying of the lantern had worked in his favour, giving him man chances to glance across at her and watch her fight with herself. She was so wilful, unwilling to let go and yet until she did he knew she was still the old Laura, the daughter they struggled with, the brat. Wetting the nappy would be the first step on a journey to becoming a decent human being, to becoming a little.
He watched through half closed eyes as she squirmed and moved on her seat, her hands clamped between her legs, her knees squeezing together. As her feet jiggled he again felt the power he had over her growing, waking him up. It had been so long since he'd done this. The other littles were so good, they had long passed the babygirl stage. None of them were even in nappies anymore but when they had been, they had wet themselves readily and without shame, knowing it was for their own good.
Not her though, not yet at least. She was fighting herself, fighting against letting go of the brat and becoming the little she needed to be in order to grow as a person, to learn the joy of letting someone else take charge.
When she began to lose control at last, he realised he had felt her tension, his muscles straining as he managed to keep still but only just. He wanted to shout out, "Let go," but he kept silent, knowing she had to take this first step on her own, she had to do it willingly. Everything else would follow from this. She muttered under her breath as a hissing sound filled the air of the carriage and at that moment she visibly relaxed. Even as shame filled her features, he could see her body relaxing and he did too. He had not wanted to admit it but he had feared she might be able to maintain control for the entire journey. It would have made everything else much harder.
Taking her into the house with her nappy wet and her humiliation complete would make her far easier to train, to mould into a little. He had theatrically awoken and stepped down from the carriage, ignoring her shame whilst smiling inwardly. She was ready and so was he. Let her education commence.
Chapter 7
Laura looked up at the building before her, glad she was standing on grass and not gravel. It was an impressive house. Tall windows lined up either side of an imposing dark wood front door. There were three storeys in white stone, with statues either corner of the red tiled roof. Ivy crept tentatively upwards from the ground as if afraid of Westall, knowing he might beat their leaves as he had beaten her. The brute.
The carriage rolled away towards the nearby stable block as Westall took her hand and pulled her up the steps and through the door.
Inside a middle aged buxom woman was dusting a marble statue. She turned to face them as they entered. "Mr Westall, you're back already."
"We rode all night Mrs Flanders," he replied. "She had an accident though. Would you mind changing her whilst I go and see if breakfast is ready?"
"Of course Mr Westall."
Laura blushed deeply. How did he know she had wet herself. "Wait a moment," she said but she might as well have been talking to herself.
Edward turned to Laura and leaned closer to her, talking in a whisper. "You will obey her as you would me or you will suffer the consequences. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir," she gulped, unable to meet his eyes.
Mrs Flanders took her from Westall's grasp and gripped her hand even more tightly, bustling her along a thickly carpeted hallway and up a flight of stairs. "This way child," she said, pulling her through a doorway into a small room. "We'll soon have you cleaned up."
Laura found herself looking at a rectangular wooden table with straps and bonds at each corner. "Up you get," Mrs Flanders said.
"Must I?"
Mrs Flanders scowled at her. "It was not a request."
Reluctantly, Laura climbed onto the table. Almost at once, Mrs Flanders shoved her down onto her back, binding her wrists in the straps by her head. Laura looked up in time to see the woman picking up a square of cloth from a pile on the cabinet next to the table.
"Let me up off here!" Laura snapped, tugging at the bonds holding her wrists in place.
"Can't have you in that one all day," Mrs Flanders replied. "You'll get a rash." She untied the knots holding the nappy in place. "My, that is heavy. We'll get a fresh one on you and then you can have some breakfast. You must be pretty hungry by now. Lift your hips up for me, that's a good little girl."