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Prologue
Edwin Villiers, also known as Lord Hyde, was about to see his first female birching. It was a highly anticipated event, for although the young man was quite familiar with the birch from his school days, he hadn't realized that such harsh methods could be used on the more delicate feminine sex. During his school days he'd gotten into quite a few scrapes with his two best friends, Lord Wesley Spencer and Lord Hugh Stanley. They were all sons of earls, destined for positions of wealth and power, and had indulged in the usual wild antics of the masculine rakish aristocracy. All good looking and charming young men in their early twenties, they had a bit of experience with the feminine sex, but both Wesley and Edwin had been astonished to learn that their good friend Hugh Stanley, Viscount Petersham, had experience in an area they were entirely unfamiliar with - that of feminine discipline.
It was not unusual for brothers to watch their sisters being punished, in fact it was quite often young boy's first glimpse at a girl's rounded bottom. Unfortunately for Edwin and Wesley, they did not possess sisters. Edwin was an only child and Wesley had three young brothers but not a single sister. Until Hugh had begun telling them stories about his father's recent attempts to bring his sister Eleanor to heel (as she had become rather spoiled and willful under his mother’s care) they hadn't realized that young girls and ladies might be punished in the same way that they and their brothers had.
Petersham's father, the Earl of Harrington, was a strict taskmaster, although less so with his son and heir than with his spoiled brat of a daughter, Eleanor. After all, young men were expected to sow their wild oats and Hugh had never done anything worse than most of his peers, certainly he didn't have the reputation of a complete reprobate. Eleanor, on the other hand, was enough to make a father despair.
At eighteen years of age the young beauty should have been already presented to Society, but her father had decided that she needed an extra year of polish. In truth he had recently discovered that his wife had overindulged the girl to the point of ridiculousness and now Eleanor was determined to get her own way in all things, whether or not what she wanted was right or reasonable. She and her mother had been living on their own in the family's house in Brighton for most of the past six years while Harrington had attended to his business in London and done what he could to raise his heir. Although he had visited numerous times it wasn't until he'd spent a full summer in the company of his wife and daughter, in preparation for her debut, that he'd realized just how out of hand the situation had become and had made the decision to step in and fulfill his neglected parental duties to his daughter.
Of course he didn't blame her for her wild ways, he knew it was his wife's indulgence that had created Eleanor's attitude, but he was quite determined to correct it. Hugh's friends had been astonished to learn that his father birched Eleanor as part of his corrective measures, his quest to curb her in the shortest amount time possible so that she could be presented without dishonoring the family. They'd been even more taken aback to discover that Hugh had played witness to these birchings on more than one occasion, his father deeming it necessary for him to learn how to tame a wayward woman. Surprised by their interest, but acknowledging that they too might benefit from such instruction, Hugh had offered to share this intriguing sight with his friends, the next time they were on location when there was to be a spanking or birching, they had immediately agreed.
Now, finally, it was happening. They had come to Brighton with Hugh to visit his family, and at first their presence had ensured Eleanor’s good behavior as she’d been distracted by the presence of young, attractive men other than her brother in the house. When she was younger she had followed them around relentlessly, now Wesley and Edwin were doing their own following (much to Hugh’s amusement and resignation). But Eleanor had been bucking her father's decrees on matter of dress for months now and it had only been a matter of time before she rebelled.
Today Edwin, Hugh and Wesley had been escorting Eleanor and her friends through some shops when Lord Harrington had happened upon them and seen that Eleanor had snuck out of the house in a dress that he had already deemed inappropriate for day wear. Truly, the neckline was too low cut for a morning outing, although of course none of the gentleman remarked on it. Seeing the hint of Eleanor's splendid bosom was not something Edwin or Wesley objected to, and her brother could be understandably excused for not noticing his sister's breasts as he was more focused on the other young ladies accompanying her. However her father was enraged at this immodest sight and had immediately demanded Eleanor's return home, promising her that she would be soundly disciplined.
Recognizing his father's turn of phrase, Hugh had immediately asked his friends if they wished to accompany him and see the promised sight. To which, of course, they had quickly agreed.
Now Edwin, Hugh and Wesley were quietly tucked into the gallery above Lord Harrington's study, watching him lecture Eleanor.
"Are you sure he's going to do it?" asked Edwin. In all his twenty four years he'd never thought he'd see a sight such as Hugh promised, and he wasn't entirely sure that it was going to be forthcoming today. He couldn't imagine such a thing, especially not with a virginal young beauty like Eleanor. All three men were quite successful with women, but they confined their activities to widows, the bored married ladies of the ton and the occasional ladybird. He had to admit to himself that he was quite as excited about seeing young Eleanor's untouched body as he was of the promised birching. Although he'd known her when she was younger, the older version of Eleanor was much more attractive to him with her honey blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes that looked at him so haughtily. She had the kind of icy exterior that made a man want to see what he could coax from beneath it.
"Absolutely," Hugh whispered back, his voice confident. "He's just making her squirm. He says that anticipation makes it stick better."
"Then why does she keep defying him?" asked Wesley, also keeping his voice low. Hugh had assured them he didn't think his father would care about an audience, but as he did not have actual permission, they were taking care not to be heard. "You'd think that being birched would make a woman think twice about her actions. God knows I did everything I could to avoid it."
Hugh shrugged. "That's just Nell's way. Mother let her do whatever she wanted and now she does as she pleases, no matter the effect on our family or her reputation. Truthfully though, she's been shaping up the longer this goes on. She just can't help herself some days."
The three young men fell silent as Lord Harrington stood, waiting with baited breath for the promised birching.
"Please Father," her sweet young voice drifted up to their ears, pleading. "This is really quite unnecessary."
"It's not for you to decide what's necessary," said her father, gesturing impatiently for her to get up. "If you hadn't worn that dress then it would have been unnecessary. I'm burning it this afternoon and if you get any more like it then you'll be punished even more harshly. You deliberately disobeyed me, deceived your brother into thinking you were properly attired and have brought shame down on our family. The number of people that saw you so immodestly displayed, at such an early hour, is not to be thought of. The Society matrons will pick you apart before we ever have a chance to present you and then you'll never be wed."
Eleanor's pretty blonde head was bowed, making her appear contrite, but the fists clenched at her sides told the real story. The anger in her body only intrigued Edwin more, he'd known that she had some fire beneath that haughty exterior and now he was finally getting a chance to see some of it. His groin stirred as he peered down at her, remembering the lovely, creamy swell of her breast that he'd been privileged to see this morning.
"From now on you'll present yourself to me before leaving the house, so that I can ensure that you are never again so immodest in public. But for now, you will be punished for knowingly disobeying your father and causing further talk about town with your behavior. At this rate your reputation will be ruined before we ever reach London. Now get up and get into position."
Her movements jerky, Eleanor stood and walked around to the side of the chair, her back to the three hidden witnesses. Slowly she gripped her skirts and pull them up to her waist in back, extra fabric hanging down in the front. Edwin stifled a low moan at the sight of her buttoned boots, knee high stockings with garters and thin white drawers; it was all he could do to keep from gasping as she leaned forward and it was revealed that she was wearing the more old fashioned kind of drawers, the kind that lacked an inner seam. The fabric parted as she bent over the broad, padded arm of the chair, revealing creamy white buttocks and thighs, framed by the even whiter thin fabric of her undergarments.
"All the way in position, Eleanor," her father said sternly.
With a little whimper that hardened Edwin's cock even further, she spread her legs, pointing her toes inwards, which caused the blonde fringed shell of her cunny to spread, leaving it as bare and vulnerable as her arse.
Edwin's cock throbbed in his pants, fully at attention at this glorious sight and he surreptitiously put his hand over the bulge at the front of his pants, discreetly rubbing it as he watched his companions from the corner of his eye, but they were paying him no attention. Wesley’s eyes were riveted to the scene below him and Hugh was watching as well, although with much less interest than Wesley or Edwin. He refocused his attention there as Lord Harrington nodded his head approvingly and went to a side cupboard.
"He says that position's the best for a spanking or birching, it keeps her from clenching her buttocks," Hugh whispered in a lecturing tone, seeming to think that it was his duty to provide his friends with the instruction that his father had. That was something Edwin had known from school, although he didn't stop Hugh from talking. He was too entranced by the sight below; noticing that the position also seems to heighten Eleanor's vulnerability and humiliation. Indeed, her entire upper body, which was laid over the seat of the chair, seemed to declare her embarrassment to the young men, despite her ignorance that she had an audience. Her little white fists were clenched on either side of her head and Edwin thought he could see a pink flush on the back of her neck, as if she was so red in her face that the color had traveled across her pale skin to less usual locations.
The birch that Lord Harrington pulled from the cupboard was tied with a red ribbon and was much lighter looking than the ones that Edwin was familiar with from school, although it looked plenty long and whippy. He felt a small sense of relief that Eleanor wouldn't be subjected to the heavy rod that young men were. After all, the pale glowing skin of her bottom looked much more delicate than any man's rump.
"There will be twenty strokes," Lord Harrington announced, ignoring his daughter's protest.
"That's more than he's ever given her before," Hugh whispered quickly. "The last time it was fifteen."
"If you move or try to cover yourself then we will start the counting over at one. I hope this helps you learn your lesson daughter; I'm very disappointed in you."
And with that, he laid the birch across her cheeks with a hard slap. Eleanor's body tensed but she didn't make a sound, despite the red streaks that now spread across her creamy cheeks. Edwin rather felt like moaning himself. Although there was nothing inherently erotic about what Lord Harrington was doing, he found the sight of those creamy swells, marked with red, to be extremely arousing. Another hard slap, this one higher up on her rump and she jerked again. The third was applied firmly to her upper thighs, just beneath her cheeks, and the young men heard the first feminine wail as red streaks appeared on this more sensitive area. Two more strokes across her buttocks, laying over some of the stripes that had already been applied, and Eleanor's buttocks were turning a nice shade of pink even when red lines hadn't appeared.
The young woman was now gasping and crying, her legs obviously trembling with the effort of remaining in place, as her hips moved up and down, wagging her rump as she tried to escape the burning lash of the rod. Edwin had to grip his hands to keep from actually reaching inside of his pants to grip his cock, it was throbbing so hard inside of his breeches.
"Six," counted Lord Harrington as he landed another across the top of her rump, over the first one that he had laid down. Eleanor shrieked.
"Please Papa, please, I've learned my lesson!" she begged, her voice full of tears.
"No, you haven't, for you are still trying to get out of your punishment," said her father, his voice weary, as if he despaired of his daughter ever learning her lesson. Three more hard lashed landed across her rump and Eleanor screamed, begging for her father to stop. Edwin was entranced by the sight of her bum, which was now a nice, bright cherry red, her cheeks clenching and dancing in between lashes. He rubbed his pego harder, feeling it throb underneath his hand, the fabric of his breeches moving over it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wesley doing the same, all of them were similarly affected by this sight of domestic discipline. Hugh seemed both oblivious and unaffected, watching with the critical eye of a student in a classroom. Of course, since it was his sister perhaps he couldn’t see the appeal.
"Ten, eleven, twelve," intoned Lord Harrington as he peppered Eleanor's thighs, drawing new shrieks from her. Edwin knew from experience that thighs were more sensitive things than buttocks and he rubbed his cock harder as he watched her legs start to come together, no longer under their mistress' control. Her father snapped two more lashes onto her inner thighs, forcing them back apart as Eleanor sobbed and begged.
"Please... no Papa... that's enough..."
"Fifteen," said Lord Harrington, landing another one. "And last time fifteen was not enough, so we will continue. Sixteen."
Eleanor's choked screams echoed around the room, Edwin was tantalized to see that Lord Harrington had laid the sixteenth stripe directly across Eleanor's sensitive cunny, her delicate lips plumping and reddening from the hard, direct hit. She screamed again as the seventeenth landed so that the very ends of the twigs snapped against her tender pink parts. Now her bottom was really moving, squirming and bouncing, as she buried her face into the seat of the chair and sobbed. Lord Harrington finished the last three strokes across her bottom.
As he returned the birch rod to its cupboard, the young men in the gallery were able to stare unimpeded at the sight of the sobbing and chastened Eleanor, her formerly creamy buttocks and thighs now hot and glowing, her cunny swollen and reddened. Edwin thought he might actually die from the intense state of arousal he was in; it might be wrong but at least Wesley had also been effected.
"Now go stand in the corner," Lord Harrington ordered as he turned around. "And keep your skirts up. I'll tell you when you can return to your room."
The Earl sat back down at his desk, returning to his ledgers as Eleanor minced her way to the corner, holding her skirts around her waist. Now the men were able to see her tear-streaked face and red eyes as she moved to do as her father directed.
