A fortnight had passed since their wedding, and Cynny felt as if she’d finally settled into her new life. Lord Grayson was as gentle and kind as she could have hoped for in a papa, though he could be stern with her when she was naughty. However, if she were being honest with herself, she would have been disappointed if he let her get away with any sort of mischief.

Since she’d come to live at Grayson House, he had only had cause to punish her a handful of times. The first time, on their wedding day for her eavesdropping and spying on Miss Wickersham’s study. The other couple of times had been for minor infractions—such as stomping on the staircase when he’d ordered her to take a nap and she wasn’t tired, rolling her eyes when he’d wanted to inspect her kitty for any signs that she’d been touching herself, and for running down the staircase, which he’d spanked her the hardest for since he claimed she had endangered herself. Though his punishment spankings hurt, his firm but loving guidance helped her to feel secure in her new life. He cared about her—he told her he loved her every day at least once—and he only enforced discipline when she truly required a correction.

She also had grown quite fond of the anal training he’d imposed upon her. She had quickly worked her way to the largest of the plugs, and two nights ago he had finally claimed her hiney hole with his big hard cock. She flushed at the memory of how she’d obediently bent over the bed, spread her cheeks wide for her papa, and held still while he massaged the salve in and out of her rosebud, plunging three thick digits into her tightness until eventually replacing them with his rigid length. His steady thrusts into her bottom hole had set her body aflame, and when he’d reached underneath her to stroke her clitty, without missing a beat as he pounded into her, it had taken but moments for her to come as a thunderous release crashed over her. She smiled to herself, hoping he would claim her back hole with his cock again soon.

Two maids passed her in the hallway, carrying fresh linens up from the laundry, and she decided she had better cease entertaining naughty thoughts so frequently, or the servants might start to wonder why she was always flushing and smiling to herself.

She redirected her thoughts to her upcoming plans and excitement spiraled throughout her as she wandered down the wide corridors of Grayson House, happy that she no longer got lost in the spacious home. She had just come up from the kitchens after conferring with Cook about the menu for the upcoming week and in particular a luncheon she planned to host. The wives of two of Papa’s friends, Lady Tiffin and Lady Harding, had called upon her together recently and Cynny wished to repay their kindness with a luncheon. She had sent invitations to both ladies, as her first foray into polite society. She wanted to make sure all went as planned, in hopes that the ladies would speak favorably about her in the ton and when she attended her first ball with Papa she would be more quickly accepted by his peers. The menu for the luncheon would be perfect and she had already spent a great many hours thinking up proper conversation topics. She couldn’t wait, but what had her even more excited as she skipped toward Papa’s library, was that it was story time—the special time of day when Papa stopped whatever he was doing and cuddled her in his lap to read her stories.

Butterflies flitted in her tummy. Sometimes, after the story was over, Papa would be hard in his trousers. She would squirm around on his manhood and give him her most innocent look, pretending she had no idea what the hard thing in her papa’s trousers was, before he would roughly lead her to his bedchamber for a session of lovemaking. However, she recalled with a heated flush, yesterday he hadn’t even bothered to take her to his room. He’d shoved her over his desk, flipped her skirts up, and took her from behind, pounding into her cunny until she cried out her release and he spurted his seed into her depths. She’d had to take a bath then, because her papa’s essence was trickling down her thighs and making a mess, and during her bath time he’d stroked her to bliss yet again.

She knocked on his library door, pressing her legs together tightly as she stood waiting for him to call her to enter. Once she heard his voice, she opened the door, slipped into the room, and shut the door behind her with a click that echoed in the vast open space.

“Good afternoon, Papa,” she said, toying with one of her braids. To her utter astonishment, he’d styled her hair in two braids when he got her dressed in one of her new gowns this morning, and though she usually wore her hair tied in a ribbon behind her back, he had somehow managed to tame her curls into the girlish style.

His warm smile as he approached her lifted her spirits further, and she glanced at the large chair in the corner of his library, eager for their story time to commence. But when she noticed the book he was holding, her enthusiasm fled. It was a book she’d had in her bedchamber, and the very book in which she’d recently hidden Cammie’s letter that described what happened between husbands and wives, papas and little girls. While the explicit letter hadn’t made much sense to Cynny at the time, she now understood it to be quite detailed and naughty. What would he do if he found it? Her bottom cheeks clenched, because she’d intentionally hidden it and kept it as a secret from her papa. Even if he wasn’t upset by the contents of the missive, he wouldn’t approve of her stashing such reading material in a book.

“Is something wrong, little girl? You look awfully pale. Are you feeling ill?” Concern tinged his voice, making her feel even guiltier for her deception.

“Everything is fine, Papa. What if-if we went for a walk in the gardens now instead of having story time?”

He gave her a strange look. “If you don’t like this book, little girl,” he said, opening it partially and flipping through the pages with his thumb, “I will select a different one.”

Then it happened. The letter escaped from the pages it was hidden between and drifted to the floor. Oh no! She lunged for the missive, but Papa bent down and picked it up before she could reach it.

“That’s mine, Papa! Please give it back!”

He glanced at the letter and his expression soon hardened. “Hyacinth, go sit in the naughty chair. Now.” His tone was firm and she found herself walking toward the naughty chair—a new addition to his library that she didn’t much care for—that was situated in the far corner of the room.

She huffed and took her place on the seat, and felt tears pricking in her eyes when he sat down at his desk and spread the letter out, apparently intending to read it in its entirety. Oh, why hadn’t she burned the letter as Cammie had asked her to do?

Papa gasped—and she wondered which part of her friend’s letter had surprised him so. Then he made a tsking noise and pushed away from his desk, standing up and approaching her in a purposeful stride.

“Young lady,” he said, pinching her ear and hovering over her. “How long have you had this scandalous letter?”

“My best friend, Cammie—Lady Cavendish—sent it to me at Talcott House. I-I wanted to know what happened between husbands and wives.”

“Has anyone else seen this letter? Please tell me you did not pass this missive around to all the girls at Talcott House.”

“No one has seen it but me. I thought of showing it to my friends, but Daisy can’t keep secrets, so I decided to keep it to myself. I’m sorry I hid it, Papa.”

“You know I don’t wish for there to be secrets between us, Cynny. Are you hiding anything else in your room or around the estate that I should know about? More such letters or anything else of significance?”

“No, Papa, I swear it. I’m not hiding anything else. Just this letter.” A vision of the golden pocket watch hidden behind the leg of a couch in the drawing room flashed in her mind, but she dared not mention it. Not when Papa was already cross with her. She’d placed the watch there several days ago when Papa had gone to visit his solicitor, though it had yet to be found and now that she considered it, perhaps she ought to find a different hiding place. She wouldn’t be able to rest until it had been found and the cloud of her thievery no longer hung over her, threatening to destroy the foundation of her marriage to Lord Grayson.

He released her ear and straightened. Then he folded the letter and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “I appears I must pay a certain Lord Cavendish a visit. I doubt he will approve of his wife engaging in such scandalous correspondence. If you were writing such naughty letters to your friends, or anyone else for that matter, I would certainly wish to learn of your indiscretions immediately.”

Alarm rushed through her. Now Cammie would be in trouble, too. She grasped Papa’s arm and clung to him when he made to leave her side. “No, Papa, please! You mustn’t! Just let me burn the letter. You can spank me, if you must, but please don’t tell Lord Cavendish what Cammie’s done. She was only trying to help me, and despite her detailed letter, I confess I didn’t know if what she wrote was true, and I didn’t quite understand it anyway. As you will remember, I was quite innocent on our wedding day, and it was not an act, I swear it.” Tears cascaded down her face, her vision blurring as she peered up at her papa, praying he would change his mind about visiting Lord Cavendish.

“Cynny,” he said sternly, “You will remain in the naughty chair until I return. Don’t you dare move your bottom.” He extracted himself from her grasp and left her alone in his library.

She sniffled and stared at the converging walls in the corner, trying to decide what to do. Perhaps she ought to put the watch in a different place where it was easier found. Or maybe she ought to claim she found it herself, then he would be pleased with her and maybe he wouldn’t spank her. She waited until she heard his carriage pull away, trying to work up the courage to leave the naughty seat.

* * *

Lord Alexander Cavendish

Ashton Manor

Lord Alexander Cavendish sat at the desk in his library examining the stack of correspondence which required his attention. He was blissfully happy in his recent marriage to Cammie, but he had been so engrossed in the pleasures of her company — in and out of the marital bedchamber — that he had neglected his many other duties.

Determined to clear his desk, he had given strict directions to the staff that he was not to be disturbed and then had set about sorting through the pile of papers. Fortunately nothing had been overlooked to the point of disaster, though a couple of items did require immediate attention. He penned a letter to his solicitor and another to his banker, entered some notes in the estate ledger and then commenced to resolve his personal correspondence.

He made satisfactory progress. Much as he had enjoyed his time as a newly married man, it also felt good to get back to his usual habits and he determined not to let the pleasures of marriage to interfere with his duties as Lord Cavendish.

A soft tap on the door caught his attention. Since he had given clear instructions to the employees that he was not to be disturbed, he assumed Cammie had come to check on him and he looked up with pleasure. He had worked hard and deserved a break.

To his surprise, the butler cautiously stepped into the room. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but there is a gentleman here who is quite insistent upon seeing you. I informed him of your desire for privacy this morning,” the butler stepped forward and presented a silver salver with a calling card upon it. Alexander retrieved it and read the unfamiliar name of Lord Nathaniel Grayson.

“I have no knowledge of this man,” he said, looking at the butler quizzically. “Did he give any indication of the nature of his business?”

The butler, looking a bit uncomfortable, said, “My lord, he asked me to mention Talcott House to you.”

Alarmed, Alexander stood. What if there had been an emergency at Talcott House? Although he had found Miss Wickersham a bit stiff in demeanor, he could not fault her matchmaking abilities. And, he would forever have a sentimental attachment to the home which had given shelter, and a new life, to his beloved Camellia. He hated to imagine what his life would be like without the adorable little girl who called him Papa.

The butler showed Lord Grayson into the library and the two men introduced themselves to each other before being seated on opposite sides of Alexander’s desk. Despite the early hour, Alexander poured himself a drink and offered his guest one as well. When Lord Grayson accepted, Alexander wondered if that was an indication of the seriousness of the business which he wished to discuss.

“I understand that you have brought news of Talcott House, Lord Grayson.” Alexander’s pulse raced and he was surprised at the level of anxiety he felt waiting for Grayson to share the purpose of his visit.

Grayson sipped his drink and then set it down. “I apologize if I misled you, my lord. I do not have any news of Talcott House, but I do have a connection to that institution which has brought me here. I have lately wed a young woman named Hyacinth, I believe she and your wife were friends at Talcott House.”

“Ah yes.” Alexander relaxed. “Lady Cavendish has mentioned her often as her best friend at Talcott House. In fact, I had been hoping to arrange a visit as a special treat for my bride. I am sure she will be pleased to know her friend has wed. Has your bride accompanied you today?”

Lord Grayson finished off his drink and did not refuse when a refill was offered. “No, she did not accompany me today, though I hope we may all four become better acquainted in the near future. Right now, however, my little wife is at home spending some time in the naughty chair.”

Lord Cavendish chuckled. “No wonder our two wives were such good friends. They seem to have similar dispositions. Cammie has spent a fair amount of time in the naughty chair as well.”

The two men raised their glasses. “To the little ladies of Talcott House,” Lord Cavendish said.

“To the naughty chair,” Lord Grayson added.

“If I may be so bold, do you mind telling me what your wife has done to earn a long spell in the naughty chair?”

“As a matter of fact, that is the main purpose of my visit to you.” He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a letter. Even from across his desk, Alexander recognized the handwriting as belonging to his Cammie. After a recent infraction, she had been required to write I will not touch my kitty without permission until she covered numerous sheets of paper, so her unique script caught his attention.

Had she been writing to another? Lord Cavendish was not prone to enviousness, but Lord Grayson was a handsome man and Alexander felt the green haze of jealousy prick at him. However, that was quickly alleviated when Lord Grayson explained further. “I found this letter in my wife’s possession and felt it my duty as her spouse to read its contents since she had been quite surreptitious with it. The stationery contained your wife’s name and address, so I took it upon myself to call here today. I apologize for the intrusion into your privacy, but I believe it was incumbent upon me as a gentleman to alert you to its existence and turn it over to you for proper disposal. And wifely correction, if you so deem.”

Lord Grayson placed the missive on the desk between them. The paper was rumpled and the folds were quite defined, indicating the letter had been read repeatedly. Alexander opened the document and began to read.

At first, his eyes skimmed the page, but soon slowed to carefully take in every word that his very naughty wife had written.

* * *

Cammie lay beneath the soft covers of her bed in her special little girl bedroom. She was supposed to be taking a nap, but sleep would not come.

At breakfast Papa had informed her of his plans to get caught up on his correspondence and paperwork in his study and she did not expect to see him until later in the afternoon. He had suggested a mid-morning nap for her as they had tickets to the theater that night and she would need to be well-rested in order to stay up so late.

Papa had helped her to change from her morning dress into a soft lacy nightgown and then tucked her in and stroked the hair away from her face before kissing her on the forehead and wishing her a peaceful slumber.

Cammie had never been to the theater before and the thought of it had her too excited to sleep. All the ladies in their finest gowns and the gentlemen in top hats and long coats—what an affair it would be. She could not wait to see her papa in his best clothes...though she did enjoy seeing him without any clothes best of all.

Marriage to Papa had been even more wonderful than Cammie could have ever imagined. Who would have guessed that she would have fantasies about Papa’s naked body? She felt all wiggly thinking about the feel of his cock inside her kitty. Despite knowing it was against Papa’s rules, she slipped her fingers into her passage, though they were not nearly as thick and hard as Papa’s cock.

Although Nurse Lister and Miss Wickersham had endeavored to teach her what happens between married men and women, she had to admit that their explanation (and demonstration) lacked much of the detail which she had learned from her papa.

Papa was an excellent and patient teacher, showing her all the ways she could please him with her hands and her mouth. Or her kitty and her bottom hole. Papa was a fan of her bottom hole, that was for sure.

Cammie giggled into her pillow and told herself she needed to stop thinking about such naughty things, stop touching her kitty, and get to sleep. She did not want to doze off and miss any of the theater production. Or what if Papa thought she was too tired to go out at all? Reluctantly, she removed her hand and forced herself to concentrate on rest.

She scrunched up her eyes and told herself to go to sleep, but it did not work. Her mind was filled with naughty thoughts and her kitty had begun to purr. Cammie rolled over to her other side and pulled the blankets up over her head. Surely that would bring on sleep.

Inside her makeshift tent, the aroma of her arousal filled her senses. She was going to make a wet spot on her sheets and nightgown and she hadn’t even reached her climax.

Well, if it was the only way to get to sleep and she was already going to need clean linens, then what was the harm in taking the opportunity to indulge in one of her clandestine pastimes. Her hands returned to her kitty and she sighed with the pleasure of it.

She really ought to stop. If Papa caught her, her bottom would pay the price, either with the plug or Papa’s cock. Or, both.

She shivered in naughty anticipation, though she still did not want to disappoint her papa. He was such a good man and she ought to behave better. Determined to turn over a new leaf, she pulled her hand away from the moisture of her sex and rolled onto her side, closed her eyes and concentrated on falling asleep like a good girl. She counted sheep. She recited the alphabet backward, but nothing distracted her from the ache in her kitty.

It seemed she had no other reasonable option than to alleviate the urgency coursing through her and with a contented sigh she resumed her masturbatory activities with vigor. If she hurried, she could achieve her climax, change her nightgown and sheets, take a nap and meet Papa fresh and refreshed and still get an evening out at the theater.

The familiar coil in her core tightened and Cammie’s focus narrowed to the center of her pleasure, small fingers moved deftly over her clitty and slid in and out of the moisture of her kitty until she came in a triumphant spasm and collapsed against the mattress, panting to catch her breath.

Once she regained her composure, she rang for the laundry maid to bring fresh linens and a clean nightgown. Cammie had paid particular attention to the girl early in her tenure at Ashton Manor because she reminded Cammie of her friend Daisy back at Talcott House. And when it occurred to Cammie that access to clean laundry would make it easier for her to indulge in a forbidden behavior without leaving any telltale signs for her papa to find, she worked to cultivate the friendship further and often gave the girl a few coins which Cammie had saved from her own spending allowance.

When the door opened Cammie looked up expectantly only to see Papa walk in carrying a stack of linens with a fresh nightgown on top. The euphoria of her release vanished and Cammie’s heart sunk to her feet.

“P-papa,” she stammered, getting out of bed and rubbing her eyes as though she had just woken from a deep slumber, “how nice to see you. Have you finished your business for the morning?” She favored him with her most charming smile and hoped it would be sufficient to crack Papa’s stern demeanor. “Whatever are you doing carrying sheets? You look silly, Papa.” She giggled and attempted to take the items from him, but his hands held firm.

“Papa?” She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Why are you not answering me?”

Papa carefully walked to the bed and deposited the articles in his hands then turned to her. Cammie stared, heart pounding. She had never seen Papa act quite this way, even when she had done something exceptionally naughty.

“We will address your need for additional linens as well as your manipulation of the poor laundry maid in due time, but there is a more pressing matter I wish to discuss with you.”

How did Papa know about her reason for needing the linens? Or the laundry maid? Despite her efforts to appear placid, her eyes darted to the bed where a telltale circle of dampness dotted the sheet. And Papa had more pressing matters than addressing the fact that she had been touching her kitty...again?

This did not bode well for her backside. A hard lump formed in her tummy. She chewed her lip and Papa continued.

“I had an unexpected visitor this morning,” Papa said. “A gentleman by the name of Lord Grayson.”

Cammie remained silent. The name meant nothing to her and, not wishing to make matters worse for herself, she chose to stay quiet.

“Lord Grayson has recently married one of your friends from Talcott House— Hyacinth.”

Cammie gasped. “Cynny’s husband was here? Did she accompany him? Is he still below stairs? Oh, I would very much like to meet him and to see Cynny again. Did you invite them to dine with us soon?” Cammie’s trepidation vanished and she bounced up and down on her toes and clapped her hands with pleasure. “Did you meet Cynny? Is her husband handsome? Wait…” she paused to search her memory… “I thought she was to marry a man named Lord Kensington, but you said a Lord Grayson called upon you.” She tilted her head and looked at Papa with confusion. Papa reached into his pocket and handed her a calling card which confirmed it had been Lord Grayson who visited Ashton Manor.

“Did he say why she did not marry Lord Kensington?”

Papa held up his hands. “Camellia, no more. In time, I am sure you will be able to have all of your questions answered and I do expect we will become better acquainted with Lord Grayson and his bride. I found him to be a gentleman worthy of knowing and I am sure you would enjoy seeing your friend.”

“Oh, yes, Papa. I would. Very much.” Cynny! Oh, what delicious delight it would be to spend time with her dear friend, both of them married ladies.

“But first,” Papa reached into his coat and pulled out a letter, “I have a few questions for you.”

Cammie glanced at the letter and then stopped to stare. Was that her handwriting? The letter looked worn, as though it had been read and refolded numerous times.

“Papa,” she said, “I do not understand.”

“You will soon enough, my dear wife.” He handed her the letter and as she read the first few lines, a fiery blush engulfed her cheeks and just as quickly her face felt as though all color had drained from it. She swayed a bit on her feet. Is this what it feels like to faint?

“I should like for you to read this letter to me.”

Cammie gasped. “Papa! No. I could never do such a thing. ‘Tis too shameful.”

“If the words are too shameful to read to your husband, then they ought not to have been committed to paper in the first place. Let that be a lesson to you. One of many I expect you are going to learn this afternoon.”

Papa pulled up a chair and sat upon it, then nodded to her. “You may begin.”

* * *

Cammie’s bare toes wiggled on the carpet as anxiety rolled through her. She could not remember exactly everything she had said in the letter, but she knew it was naughty. Shamefully naughty.

She licked her lips and swallowed past the dry lump in her throat and commenced the reading of her own words.

“My dearest Hyacinth,” she said,

“Please speak up, Cammie, I cannot hear you.”

“Yes, Papa,” she said, dread swirling in her tummy. She cleared her throat and continued. “It was absolutely charming to hear from you. I apologize for not replying sooner, but my duties as Lady Cavendish are extensive and I am quite busy with household matters, balls and social calls, as a proper lady often is. However, as Lord Cavendish is away from home this morning attending to some of his many important duties, I am delighted that I finally have time to catch up on my correspondence.”

She glanced up at Papa. “You certainly sound like a busy lady,” he said. “Funny that I do not recall us attending any balls. Have you been going out without me?”

Embarrassed, Cammie looked at the floor. “No, Papa. I-I just wanted to impress my friends.”

“Hmm,” Papa said. “It would seem to me that the great benefit of friends is that it is not necessary to put on airs for them.”

“Y-yes, Papa,” she replied. “I should not have done that.”

“I agree. Please continue.” He nodded for her to keep reading.

“How are you and all my old friends at Talcott House? It seems ever so long since we have seen each other. Much has happened and I feel that it was ages ago when we were all spending time together in the gardens, though in fact it has only been a few weeks.”

Cammie sure wished she was back at Talcott House now. Her bottom clenched up, thinking about how this little session was likely to end.

“And now you are to be married too! How exceptionally lovely! I hope that we will be able to meet in person once you have married and left Talcott House. The door to Ashton Manor is always open to you and I hope you will not feel intimidated by my sudden ascension to the highest ranks of society as you will always be my own dear, Cynny.”

Hearing her words aloud, Cammie could not believe how snooty she sounded. She glanced from the letter up at Papa. “That does not sound very nice, does it?”

“No, Camellia, it does not. I am very disappointed that you would say something so condescending to anyone, let alone someone you claim as a friend.”

When Papa had instructed her to read the letter to him, Cammie knew she would be humiliated by the naughty things she shared with Cynny, but she felt utterly miserable at being mean and high handed with her friend. She missed everyone at Talcott House, even bossy Garland, but she had written to Cynny like she was beneath Cammie’s notice. She sniffled and ran to Papa, wrapping her arms around his waist. He relented and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close.

He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped away her tears. “Tell me why you are so sad, little Cammie.” His warm voice and caring touch made Cammie feel better and worse at the same time. Better because he made her feel loved and protected. Worse, because she realized what an ingrate she was and that she did not deserve a papa as wonderful as hers.

After a couple of ragged breaths, she told him. “Papa, I have been so fortunate in my marriage to you. You are better than I deserve and then to speak so atrociously to Cynny and, in a way, my other friends at Talcott House—Oh, Papa, I am the worst kind of hypocrite. And an even worse friend.” She buried her face in his shoulder and he rubbed her back, whispering calming words.

Once she had settled down, she looked up at him. “Papa, I need to make amends to Cynny.”

“Yes, I believe you do and I am proud of you for recognizing your poor behavior without me pointing it out. We shall discuss all of that later, but now there is the matter of reading the rest of your letter.” He set her back on her feet and gave her bottom a slap. “Back to your reading position.”

Cammie returned to her reading spot, determined to do as Papa instructed and to take any punishment he meted out without complaint. She wanted to be a better person. Truly she did. Papa would help her, she knew it.

Still, there was the matter of the humiliating letter. She cleared her throat and moved to the next paragraph. “Your curiosity about what happens between married men and women is understandable. I felt much the same way until my dear papa taught me so many exceptional and pleasurable activities.”

She looked up at Papa and smiled. He gave her a stern look and wound his finger in a circle to indicate that she was to get on with things.

“Have you had your special examination from Nurse Lister? I shall acknowledge I found the whole thing rather distressing and confusing until the very end when Miss Wickersham assisted in helping me to achieve my release.”

Cammie snuck a peek at Papa and he raised an eyebrow. “I may wish to hear more about that at a later time,” he said.

Cammie felt herself flush again, but warmth built in her kitty too. She found her voice and continued. “A release is another word for climax. A climax is the best feeling in the entire world and I hope your papa is able to give you many of them. It is hard to describe the exact sensation. It will build up—sort of like a kettle that is put on to boil—as the water heats up, the surface is sort of shimmery and quivery until a few bubbles break through. That’s how my skin feels, sort of prickly and tingly, then the bubbles get bigger and the water is covered with popping bubbles that keep getting hotter and hotter until the steam sets the kettle off in a blast of heat. And that is how your insides will feel as your climax builds up and up.”

“Is that true, little Cammie? Is a climax the most wonderful feeling in the entire world?”

“Yes, Papa,” she said, her voice catching with emotion. “You make me very happy.”

Papa smiled then, his first since entering her room. Some of the weight around Cammie’s heart lifted, but she still knew that the afternoon was far from over.

“And when it is over, your papa will wrap you in his arms and tell you what a good girl you are and you will drift off into the best sleep ever.”

She stole a glance at her papa. “That is true too,” she said, shyly.

“I like that part also, sweet Cammie.”

Cammie turned the page of the letter over to continue and as her eyes skimmed the first few words, a feeling of dread quickened in her. She looked to Papa again. “Do I really have to read this part?”

“Oh, yes, naughty girl. You absolutely have to read the next part.” Papa sat up straighter in his chair.

Cammie licked her lips and plunged forward. “Having a climax is so wonderful, you might be tempted to give yourself one when your papa is not around.” Cammie’s voice trailed off.

“I had trouble hearing that last sentence. Please repeat it.”

Cammie chewed her lip some more.

“I’m waiting.”

“Having a climax is so wonderful, you might be tempted to give yourself one when your papa is not around.” She glanced up and he nodded for her to continue. “To do that, you will need to touch your kitty with your fingers and at the very top is a little hard nubbin, that is your clitty. It is like the magic button for your release. Rub your fingers over it or maybe pinch it a bit and soon you will be like that kettle building up a big head of steam.”

“You seem to know a great deal about giving yourself a release, Cammie.”

Her bottom tingled. She had quite a punishment coming, there could be no doubt.

“I believe,” Papa said, “I should like for you to read the rest of the letter without any clothing. Please remove your nightgown.”

“Papa?”

“You heard me, Cammie. Do not pretend otherwise. Besides, the person who wrote this letter seems to have quite an extensive knowledge of the female body and therefore, has no reason to be shy.”

To her horror, Cammie felt her kitty heat up and a bit of moisture eased its way between her nether lips and onto her thighs. And now Papa would know it too. Moving slowly, though she knew there was no avoiding it, Cammie set the letter on her bed, then pulled the nightgown over her head and deposited it on the bed as well. She reached for the letter but Papa stopped her. “I would like,” he said, a naughty smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “a demonstration of that last bit you read.” Cammie gasped. “In fact, bring me the letter and I shall read it as you show me.”

With trembling fingers, Cammie retrieved the evil letter that had brought her nothing but problems, and slowly delivered it to her papa. When she moved as if to return to her reading spot, he halted her.

“It would please me,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire, “if you performed your part here, right in front of me.”

“Papa! I am too embarrassed. Please, Papa.”

“You ought to be embarrassed. Not only did you write a scandalous letter which revealed the most intimate details of our lives, but you confessed to doing something which I have explicitly told you not to do.”

“Oh,” Cammie said. She had not considered the fact that she had shared private information about Papa. What could have happened if someone other than Cynny had found the letter? Or if Lord Grayson had been an unscrupulous man?

Cammie had a feeling she would not be attending the theater that evening. Or if she did, it would be a most uncomfortable event being seated on a chafed backside for several hours.

Papa began reading. “... you will need to touch your kitty with your fingers and at the very top is a little hard nubbin, that is your clitty. It is like the magic button for your release. Rub your fingers over it or maybe pinch it a bit and soon you will be like that kettle building up a big head of steam.” When he finished reading, he looked up from the letter and watched as she touched herself.

Cammie did her best to follow along and repeat the actions described in the letter. Hearing him say those naughty words made her kitty especially wet and achy, so it was not difficult to want to give herself pleasure, though she was fraught with humiliation. When Papa finished reading, she stopped touching herself, expecting him to return the letter to her.

But, he continued reading. “Papas do NOT want their little girls to give themselves pleasure. Lord Cavendish says it is his right and privilege as my husband and papa to be the only one who brings me to climax.”

“I am glad you remember me saying that, Camellia, though it seems you did not heed my words. In fact, it would appear that you have come up with a scheme to completely disregard my instructions to you and you shared this with your friend quite proudly. He read more from the letter. “His possessiveness is quite endearing. However, sometimes I feel I must pleasure myself lest I explode from need. In those instances, I tell Papa that I have a headache and must rest. He usually is very concerned and puts me to bed himself in my own special bedroom. I close my eyes and pretend to sleep and when he leaves the room, my fingers get busy inside my drawers. After that, I usually do sleep so I do not feel it is a complete deception.”

“I am sorry, Papa,” Cammie said for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Have I given you permission to stop touching your kitty?”

“No, Papa. It is just that I thought you wanted me to read the letter.”

“I think I shall continue reading for another paragraph or two while you continue to show me how you touch your kitty and disobey your papa.”

Papa’s deep voice filled the room. “However, your kitty (which is also called a cunny or a quim) will get wet when you are aroused and ready for a climax. Sometimes there is so much moisture it dampens my undergarments. If your papa suspects that you have been touching your private parts without his permission, he will check your drawers for telltale signs of wetness.”

Papa paused in his reading and reached for Cammie’s kitty. “Since you are not wearing drawers, I shall check here. Hmmm. You are very wet, Cammie. Does reading your naughty words to Papa excite you?” His fingers plunged in and out of her core while Cammie continued to touch her clitty. It was becoming very difficult for her to hold still and she swayed toward Papa with a soft moan.

“Are you getting ready to reach your climax, little girl?”

“Yes, Papa.” She worked her nubbin harder, feeling the tide building inside.

Papa pulled her hand away and then positioned her over his knee.

“Wha—”

“You have a punishment coming and it is time for it to start. Naughty girls do not get to bring themselves to climax.”

He handed her the letter. “Please continue reading,” he said.

She whimpered at the halt in her progress. Frustration at being left unsatisfied compounded her aggravation with herself for being in such a predicament in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she balanced across Papa’s knee and focused on the contents of the letter. Papa stroked his palm over the flesh of her backside.

“Papas can be very strict and stern too, especially if they believe their little girls have violated their rules. My papa has reddened by bottom several times for touching myself. It is shameful and embarrassing. Worse than the naughty chair.”

Papa’s hand stopped caressing and began swatting. Though she knew it was coming, the sharp smack to her hind end surprised her and she nearly dropped the letter. She steadied herself and moved to the next shameful confession, while Papa’s hand raised and lowered all over her naughty bottom.

“But, I have become friendly with the laundry maid and slip her a few coins now and then and she makes sure I have plenty of fresh linens and underclothes so Papa is none the wiser and believes I have learned my lesson.”

Papa’s palm smacked hard several times in the very center of Cammie’s backside, but Cammie was so angry with herself, she welcomed the heat and sting and focused her attention there. After half a dozen swats, Papa reminded her she was to be reading.

“Oh dear, I fear I have gotten ahead of myself. The major activity of married people is called making love. Your papa will have a big shaft between his legs called a cock. It will get hard when he desires you and he will thrust it inside your kitty. Cock is another name for penis. It will get large and hard inside your kitty as your papa moves in and out. Your kitty gets ready for the cock by getting wet with desire, like I described already. Your papa will help you build up your desire to get nice and slick for his cock by kissing you or touching your ninnies with his fingers or sometimes with his lips or teeth. Sometimes my ninnies are sore the next day but it feels so good I do not care.”

Papa shifted her across his lap. “Do you feel my hard shaft now, little Cammie? Even when you are naughty, Papa desires you. Your naked body and your submission make Papa happy and makes him want you.”

The firm length of him pressed against her belly and she wriggled closer. Her need to complete her climax ached within her.

“None of that, Camellia,” Papa said, landing a stinging swat to the top of her thigh before moving her away from his cock. “You will get your pleasure when I give it. If I give it.”

Cammie mewled. She needed a release and she needed to be held in Papa’s loving arms afterward. This had turned into a horrible, awful afternoon.

Papa gave her several more swats on her hot bottom then set her on her feet in front of him. He took the letter from her hands and said, “Go get on your bed, Cammie, on your hands and knees.”

Cammie knew what that meant. Something was going to happen to her bottom hole. But, if it meant an end to the embarrassment of reading her letter, then that was fine by her. Papa had trained her rear hole with plugs so now she could take his big cock in her backend. That sure made Papa happy. She liked it too, though it was shameful when her papa made her open her cheeks so he could see her little pucker.

Papa dropped the letter on the bed between her hands. “I believe you have not finished reading this.”

Ohhh. She did not like the way this was going. Papa moved to stand behind her and she heard him open his trousers and lower them, then his hands gripped the globes of her rear end and pulled them wide. He put his fingers into her kitty and tsked. “You are very wet, little Cammie. I wonder why.” He gathered moisture from her slick folds and used it to lubricate her tight opening.

He paused long enough to land a swat on her left cheek. “Read,” he ordered.

She sighed. “If your papa is anything like mine, he will probably like to touch you and kiss you all over your body. Sometimes your papa might even put his mouth on your kitty. If he kisses your mouth after that, you will be able to taste your juices on his lips. It is a very naughty feeling, but I enjoy it. I like touching and kissing my papa all over his body too. Sometimes I put his cock in my mouth and suck on it until he reaches his climax. That makes my papa very happy and sometimes I get a new dress or hat the next day.”

Papa coughed several times but when Cammie snuck a glance at him over her shoulder, his lips were pressed together like he was trying to hold something back instead of letting a cough out.

“I hope this answers some of your questions. I am sure your papa will be happy to show you everything you need to know to be a good and pleasing wife.

Yours affectionately,

Cammie

P.S. Burn this letter as soon as you read it.”

She found the last line particularly galling. If Hyacinth had followed her instructions, she would not be in this predicament in the first place.

And then it dawned on her...Cynny’s papa had read the letter too. And brought it to her papa. “D-did Lord Grayson say whether Cynny got in trouble for this letter?” she asked, hesitantly.

“Oh, yes. As I understand it, she has been spending a significant part of the day in the naughty chair and I expect that Lord Grayson has some plans for her.” Papa continued to probe her back hole with his fingers while they spoke and Cammie had to pay close attention in order to say the things on her mind.

“This letter has caused a lot of problems hasn’t it, Papa?”

“I believe that is putting it mildly.”

“I-I am so very, very sorry, Papa.” Her heart felt like it had broken into a thousand pieces. She had caused so many problems for the people she loved best, Papa and Cynny.

Papa slid his shaft into her achy kitty and Cammie sighed at the pleasure of it, though it was short lived. “You are certainly wet, Cammie. So much better to get my cock ready for your bottom hole, do you not agree?” He pressed against her back opening and pushed into her well-trained pucker.

Cammie whimpered deep in her throat and gripped the bedcovers in her hands.

“I am curious, little miss letter writer, why you did not share with your friend how much you enjoy having your papa’s cock in your backside.”

Cammie gasped and swiveled her head around to stare at him. “Papa! Was what I written not shameful enough? How could I tell her about - about, this?” She braced and groaned after a particularly hard thrust from Papa.

“Well,” Papa gave her left cheek a hard swat while he pumped his cock in and out of her bunghole, “I believe I would like to hear you explain it now, as though you were writing a letter. It will be easier to describe as it is happening.”

“Papa! No!” she wailed, her face flaming with shame.

Papa swatted her bottom hard and continued his punishment. “I will stop spanking when you start talking.”

Ohh. He spanked with determination. With little choice but to obey, Cammie spoke, “My papa likes to put his c-cock inside my b-bottom hole.” She paused and held tight to the bed clothes as her papa jammed into her hard. “He will use the …” her voice trailed off.

Papa smacked her thigh. “Keep going,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You had better finish your explanation before I finish what I am doing back here.”

“But, Papa, it is too embarrassing to say out loud.”

“Say it,” Papa growled.

“Papa uses the m-moisture from my kitty to make his cock slick.”

“Good girl.” Papa’s breath was labored.

“Then he will push it into my bottom hole. It is important to keep your muscles soft and relaxed so he can get in without causing pain. Once he is inside you, your bottom hole feels so full, but it is most satisfying.” Cammie pushed back against Papa’s cock, trying to achieve the fullness she spoke about. A moan erupted from deep in her throat.

“Satisfying? Is that all?” Papa grabbed her hips and jammed into her little arsehole over and over.

“Papa,” she shouted as she achieved her climax, “it is wonderful!”

And he shot his hot seed into her before they both collapsed upon the bed.