Welcome to a Wip it Up – the chance to share a work in progress. I’ve written a historical spanking romance and I hope it will be out at the beginning of February.
Royalist Hester has surrendered her family home to Roundhead Captain Daniel Hasard and his troop of dragoons. Within a day of their occupation the kitchen boy has been caught attempting to poison the well. Hester has offered to take the punishment instead of the boy, but Daniel suspects she might have been the mastermind….
She stood before him, her eyes darting about nervously.
“Tell me the truth, Hester. Were you out there last night?”
Her eyes stopped roving and rested on him, widening in surprise. “I don’t know what you mean—”
“Don’t lie to me. A boy, of what eleven years, with a bottle of poison? This was your idea and Hodge came along out of loyalty. You pleaded for him with your life. You look guilty, don’t deny it.” He drummed his fingers on the armrest.
Hester bowed her head. “Yes. It was my idea.”
“Why didn’t you step forward?”
“I’m ashamed to say, I didn’t want to take the blame. Now, I accept I should and I will.”
“How do think I should punish you, Hester?” He ran his finger up and down the armrest.
She shuffled her feet about on the floor, fiddling with laces of her petticoats. “A whipping?” she said softly.
“Indeed, that is what I shall do.”
He sent for his sergeant, instructed him to cut down small branches from the nearby trees and fashion a switch. She listened, her face flushed and her hands trembling at her sides.
Left alone with Hester, Daniel rose to his feet. She shot backwards, her eyes widening. “I’d rather you weren’t afraid of me,” he said.
She snorted. “You’re about to beat me, I think I’m entitled to feel whatever I want.”
“True. However, you brought this upon yourself. I asked for co-operation and you have shown me disdain and rudeness.”
“We are enemies, sir.”
He leant back on the edge of the table. The paleness of her complexion told him she was nervous. He followed the line of her chin, observing the thinness of her neck and below her collarbones, the opening of her gown, which displayed the top of her cleavage. Her chest rose and fell, lifting her bosom and the skin flushed pink. Afraid of the whipping she might be and probably mortified by his need to punish her, but something else lurked beneath the fine figure of a young woman. He shook his head, dismissing the notion that she might hold some other feelings towards him. He leapt off the table, determined to find a means to control his urges , those ridiculous yearnings to know her intimately, which had come close to exciting his manhood. She was right, they were enemies and while he couldn’t deny her attraction, he would have to find a way to keep those thoughts at bay.
“You should prepare yourself” He strode around the table and stood on the other side, creating the necessary distance. “I suggest you stand facing the fireplace and contemplate your actions. Do not move or speak.” He waved a dismissive hand.
She frowned and stomped over to the fireplace. With an audible huff, she stood motionless with her arms crossed.
Daniel bowed his head and gripped the back of nearby chair. She seemed resolute in undermining his authority. He had to stamp it out before she become unwieldy. “Mistress Cavell, I wish you to show remorse for you actions and all I see is defiance.”
“So be it,” she shouted over her shoulder.
“Place your hands behind you back, then kneel on the floor.”
“What?” She spun on the toes to face him, her jaw lowering.
“Kneel on the floor and hands behind you back, now,” he re-iterated his command in an unwavering tone. It masked his real emotions, which remained hovering between annoyance and an irrational urge to lose his self-control. If she wasn’t prepared to show her submission with appropriate words, then he would contain her, make her appear humble and small. The grip on the chair tightened as she narrowed her eyes.
The petulance showed in the slowness of her compliance. She inched down onto the floor, shuffled about and tucked her hands behind her back.
“Good.” He sighed and loosened his grasp.
The sergeant returned with Matthew. Upon seeing Hester knelt on the floor, his lieutenant glanced back and forth between them. Crossing the room, he whispered into Daniel’s ear. “She’s a lady, sir. Is the sergeant an appropriate—”
“I am well aware of her status. I shall conduct the punishment myself. She may keep her smock down for decency.” Daniel discharged his sergeant and asked him to leave.
Matthew led her to the end of the table. “Bend over. Please, miss.” He tapped her shoulder, then stepped away.
Hester placed the palms of her hand on the wood and hesitated. Matthew scowled and moved forward. “I don’t want to have to force you.”
Daniel held up his hand. “Give her time, Matthew.” The lieutenant edged away and out of the periphery of Daniel’s vision.
She slid her hands forward, reaching out across the table to some unknown object. Bent over, she retracted her arms and rested her head on them.
Daniel picked up the switch, fashioned by his sergeant and he checked for rogue thorns or splinters. As he swished it through the air, she jumped, peering up from where she’d hid her face.
Stooping, he took hold of the hem of her petticoat and raised it up over her bottom, allowing the fabric to settle on her back. The white smock lay beneath, covering her naked bottom. A thinner fabric than he anticipated and he could see the outline of each lobe, rounded and symmetrical, he admired her curvaceous form.
He leant forward and nearly touched her ear with his lips. “Make a fuss. I want your servants to know I mean business.”