Her Lord's Claim (The Forbidden Saga #4) - Maggie Ryan Page 0,37

the act. She began to whimper, her eyes filling as she saw Molly step from the water closet and saw what her maid was holding.

A large, bulging red bag was in one hand while a length of tubing was coiled in another. Lucy gave a strangled cry. She had not been given an enema since she was a very young child, and her mother had administered one when she had been very ill. She’d crooned softly, giving her daughter words of comfort and encouragement. Lucy wasn’t naïve enough to think this enema was going to be the same.

She continued to whimper as Anna took the bag from Molly and hung it from a hook Lucy had never noticed before on one of the four bedposts, understanding someone had installed it for the express purpose of holding the bulging bag. Watching the tubing uncoil, Lucy shuddered, her fist going to her mouth to stifle her cries of distress as the length of hose touched her hip. It felt like a serpent slowly slithering up her body

When Anna nodded at Molly, the younger woman removed the top of a large jar. Lucy’s nose crinkled at the unfamiliar medicinal aroma of the jar’s contents and her tummy flipped when her maid who had become her friend gave her what appeared to be a look of sympathy.

“Pay attention, Molly,” Anna said. “Let’s not try to make a mess of things.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” Molly said, returning her attention to the jar in her hands. She held it steady as the housekeeper picked up something from the bed and dipped it into the jar.

After several twirls of her wrist, Anna pulled it from the jar, rotating it as if to assure herself that every single inch of the horrid thing was covered with whatever unpleasant smelling unguent the jar held.

“Ohhh… ohhh, please no,” Lucy begged, her eyes seeing not a nozzle, but the glistening weaving of a serpent’s head. It was huge, and her bottom clenched tightly in frightened anticipation of where the snake would take its bite. “I-you… it… it’s too-too big,” she stammered and then again attempted to rise only to feel Anna’s fingers splay across her lower back, pressing her into place as she turned to address Molly.

“Go ahead and put a small dollop on her bottom-hole,” she instructed. “You will not normally allow the additional lubricant, especially when giving a punishment enema, but since this is Lucy’s first, we may be a bit more lenient.”

Molly nodded and setting the jar onto the night table, she dipped her fingers into the ointment and moved toward the bed. Lucy squealed and despite Anna’s hand, managed to roll off the pillow, only to feel her leg captured and herself being hauled back over the pillow. Molly froze and then accepted the nozzle from Anna as the older woman reached into her pocket. Before Lucy could even think, her already-tender bottom was being smacked again and again with the tawse Anna had pulled from her pocket. Lucy was soon screeching and attempting to roll, swim, crawl and everything else she could think of to get off the pillow and away from the hated leather.

“I warned you, young lady,” Anna said calmly as she used her strength built up from years of daily labor in keeping the manor spotless to easily pull Lucy back into position. Climbing up onto the bed next to her naughty charge, she again planted her hand against Lucy’s back, her superior weight effectively keeping Lucy pinned in place over her punishment pillow. “If you want to have your enema only after having your bottom thrashed, so be it.”

Lucy was promising to be good, to be still, the entire time Anna spanked her. Despite her promises, and evidently wanting to assure her point had been made, Anna applied two dozen strokes with her tawse before allowing it to come to rest on Lucy’s now intensely throbbing derrière.

“Are you going to behave, or shall I call for your papa to assist me?” Anna asked.

“No, please… I’ll behave. I-I’ll be goo… good,” Lucy hiccupped her answer, knowing she would die if Lucas were to see her in this position, nude, her bottom striped and pointed up and out into the room, an enema bag over her head, the awful nozzle waiting to be inserted into her bottom-hole.

“Move an inch, and I shall send for your papa,” Anna warned, before returning the tawse to her pocket. “Spread your knees wider, if you please,” Anna further