Delia's Debt Read online

  “You will follow my instruction and remember to answer me as poppa. Failure will result in a strict and obedient punishment to your precious bottom.”

  “Will you spank me?” Delia asked.

  “Yes. That is just one type of punishment that your bottom will be met with, among other treats.”

  She gasped, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Had he managed to turn her on?

  He let his hands slowly drop from their position around her, as he took a step back, letting her decide if this was what she wanted to do. If she felt the urgency to run, he was not going to chase another young woman down and beg her to reconsider the request. She had to find the desire within her heart as well.

  “When do we begin?”

  Charles felt his cock harden at her words. He most certainly did not expect her to be onboard with his request. Most women begged him to reconsider, how they liked one aspect but not another of being little. Delia seemed open to the experience which only further electrified his body into craving her tonight.

  “Undress,” he commanded, staring at her body, enjoying the sight as she slowly worked her hands behind her.

  “I need help, Poppa,” Delia said, showing him the back of her gown.

  His fingers graced her neck and down her back as he loosened the ribbons of the garment. “Such a fancy dress is not appropriate for my little one to wear to bed.”

  Charles stepped back, letting her slide out of the gown as he walked to the armoire, retrieving a sheer purple gown. “Put this on,” he said, instructing her on what to do to please him.

  Delia wordlessly stood naked in front of him, her cheeks and chest blushing crimson as she waited for him to hand her the gown. It did very little to cover her rosy nipples as they poked through the fabric.

  He smiled, pleased that she had listened to him. Charles walked to his dresser, opening the bottom drawer, he jostled several clothes around before retrieving a small black box.

  “What do you have there?” she asked.

  “A present for my little Lia,” Charles said. Removing the lid, the light from the fireplace offered a glimpse of the contents inside the box. His eyes shined with mirth as he patted the bed. “Come sit. I want to show you the gift I have for you.”

  Delia sat down, her eyes peering at the contents of the glass object, a curious expression on her face. “What is it?”

  “A plug, for your bottom.” The end was round like a nipple, but far narrower. As the glass extended it thickened in size and girth, with a rounded shape that fanned out and widened until it narrowed just slightly before jutting out with a rectangular handle.

  “Why?” Delia asked, scooting back on the bed, further from Charles.

  “I want you to experience pleasure as I claim every part of you as my own.” His fingers grazed her lips and moved to her chest, lingering on her heart as the tips of his fingers grazed a nipple. “More importantly though, I want your heart as I make you mine,” he said, his fingers moving down between her thighs. Already her quim was coated in a sleek wetness, revealing her arousal to him. “Then last, I shall take you here,” he said, running his fingers over the soft downy skin of her bottom. He waited to probe and separate her cheeks until she relaxed, wanting to make the experience good for her as much as him. “You will only come when I tell you to, when I give you permission to touch yourself or to touch me. Is that understood?”

  Delia obediently nodded. “Yes, Poppa.”

  He did not know whether fear forced her to do as told or her desire to please him.

  “Tonight we are going to start slow. I want to see how tight you are for me. I already have experienced your cunny. Now I want to experience another part of you, a piece more intimate that I pray I am the only man to have touched. Roll over and climb onto all fours. I want your bottom in the air and your legs spread.”

  She made no attempt to fight or dismiss him of his ideas for her. Delia turned around, shifting her weight onto her hands and knees as she positioned herself on the bed for him. “What now, Poppa?”

  Charles removed the glass plug from the case and a wooden jar of lubricant that he had specially made for this very occasion. “I am going to go slow. Tell me if it is too much for you.”

  Rather than start directly with the plug, which he knew would stretch her beyond limits, Charles dipped his finger into the lubricant and coated his digit before separating her bottom cheeks.

  Her cunny glistened and swelled. Did it pulse to be touched? He listened to her breathing and heard the unmistakable gasp as he pressed one hand on her lower back and his other allowed one finger to push past her pink pucker.

  Delia groaned and though he could tell she was trying to keep quiet, she squirmed uncontrollably. “Tell me what you feel.”

  “Pain,” Delia said, gasping as her breathing intensified.

  He slid his single digit out, hearing her exhale a heavy breath.

  “I need you to relax, Delia. Nothing I do will hurt you long-term. Doesn’t your bottom feel better now?”

  Delia nodded. “Yes, Poppa.”

  “I have to stretch your bottom hole in order to accommodate for when I take you. We do not want any tearing or intense pain, right?”

  “Yes, Poppa.” She agreed quickly.

  “Good. Now I am going to use two fingers.” Without warning, his fingers were quickly lubed and pushed back at her bottom hole.

  She did not tell him to stop or insist she could not take any more of him. Was she trying to please him? Most women who he had tried this type of play with always insisted that they had enough.

  “More,” Delia said, demanding for him not to stop.

  Though Charles had been the one in charge, he did not wish to deny Delia of her desires. She squirmed with two fingers as he pushed deeper past her tight ring, stretching her beyond capacity. He would use the glass plug on her bottom, insist she sleep with it, and reward her in the morning for her good behavior.

  “Oh,” she gasped, as his fingers slowly withdrew and she exhaled a heavy breath, her head hanging forward.

  Charles could swear he heard her heart pounding as he greased the plug, ensuring it would slide easily inside without causing pain. It was wider than his two fingers by far, but it was the smallest plug he had in his drawer.

  He leaned down, kissing the small of her back, his breath teasing and tickling her skin as he moved his lips down her bottom and then toward her quim, licking and tasting the juices as they dripped and flowed freely from her succulent source of arousal. His tongue swiped across her rosebud and her hips instantly bucked from the contact.

  Delia moaned and he knew what he was doing, intentionally arousing her further, rewarding her for asking for more, though he intended fully on giving her the plug to sleep with either way. He liked that she was not fighting him on it.

  “Please, Poppa!” Delia’s voice grew louder and though he wanted to silence her and warn her to be quiet for fear his children might hear, he did not find the words. His tongue swiped over her clit repeatedly, feeling her body trembling in his embrace. With one hand steadying her hips, the other reached for the plug, sliding the lubed end toward her pink pucker, pushing in, guiding the glass past her entrance.

  She gasped as the glass poked slowly inside and he was forced to turn the handle, further guiding the material inside her warmth.

  His tongue tasted the sweet nectar as she quivered and moaned, gasping for air while he pushed the plug fully into her bottom hole. His hand holding her steady moved inside the warmth and wetness of her cunny, stroking her, teasing her to submission.

  “Oh!” The loudest moan fell from her lips as the material expanded her bottom and her insides clenched around his digits as she came.

  Her body, coated in a thin sheen of sweat as the purple gown clung to her.

  “Lay down and climb under the covers,” Charles said, waiting for her to do as told.

  Delia wasted no time in rolling around and getting comfortable. “What about you?” she asked.
“Can I do something for you, Poppa?”

  His cock throbbed and twitched. Though he wanted her to ease his suffering for tonight, he wanted his little one to get her much needed rest.

  Charles kissed the top of her head. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Get some rest. I will be in bed shortly.” There was no nursery for his little one, she deserved the comforts of his room and him for bed. He stripped down and climbed under the covers, cuddling her.

  Chapter 7

  Delia rolled onto her back, staring up at the ornate ceiling as she began to stir. The morning sun seemed to be peeking its head into the room, shining as the night turned into day.

  “I believe it is time to get up,” Delia said, rolling onto her side as her hands came down to smooth over Charles’s warm skin.

  Smiling she was surprised to find him completely naked beneath the covers. Was this how he always slept?

  She had found the whole scenario of being a little one for him odd, yet exhilarating. Pleasing him made her happy and yet he had ensured she had been satisfied last night as well. Could she marry Charles? It seemed she was going to and maybe things would be unconventional but Delia did not care. The excitement and the fact what they were doing seemed forbidden only made her heart race with delight. She could not wait until tonight when the girls were in bed yet again.

  “Good morning,” Charles said, yawning as he rolled onto his back, the covers keeping him decent. “Were you my good little one?”

  Her fingers smoothed over the soft hairs on his chest, smiling as she laid her cheek on the pillow beside him. “I am always good,” Delia said.

  “Hmmm,” he mused, running his hands beneath the covers and under Delia’s nightgown feeling the plug still nestled securely in her bottom. “Seems you will not be receiving a morning spanking. You have been a very good girl.”

  Delia grinned. Is that what it took to get spanked by Charles? She did not dare admit she felt tempted to consider removing it tomorrow morning, should the night repeat itself.

  Charles leaned in, brushing his lips over Delia’s for a morning kiss, his fingers dipping between her folds, caressing her quim as his tongue pushed inside of her mouth.

  She rolled onto her back as he climbed atop her, taking control, straddling her small frame.

  “If we are to wed, when do you intend to tell your father about us?”

  His question caught her by surprise. She had not truly thought much of her father over the past twelve or so hours, since news of the engagement. “After the wedding.” Delia worried that if her father knew a moment sooner of her plans, that he might change Charles’s mind, persuading him to let her go.

  “You do not wish to see him walk you down the aisle?” he asked. His breath hovered above her, teasing and waiting for an answer.

  “I fear his disappointment.”

  Charles squinted slightly as he stared down at Delia, before rolling away and onto his side.

  Already she missed the warmth of his body and rolled onto her side, curling into him. “What is it?” she asked, sensing his displeasure.

  “It would be rude of me to not ask for your father’s permission to marry you.”

  Delia’s eyes widened and her heart pitter-pattered with anxiety. “He may not be pleased to see you. When I took the job of governess, I left him a note and snuck out before he woke. I worried he would try and talk me out of leaving.”

  “Would he not be pleased of your prospects for marrying?” Charles asked. “I am not looking to inherit your dowry. Your father may keep it. Should that not show my true intentions?”

  Delia did not remind him that his true intentions had more to do with keeping his secret safe than anything else. She had realized that she was okay with that small fact, enjoying the attention he bestowed on her as a little. However, she did not dare ask if he had requested the same of Nanny Ida previously. Delia suspected not, but her curiosity still itched at her to find out. “What are your true intentions, Charles? That you love me?” She laughed, her cheeks blushing at the mere words that she knew were too soon to be true.

  “Why not?” Charles shrugged. “We should be honest with him. I pride myself on my reputation, Delia, and I have not gotten it by hiding or lying to grown men. You will accompany me to your home in London, where we will sit down with your father and discuss the arrangement of marriage.”

  The insistent pounding of her heart refused to cease. A thin sheen of sweat coated her skin as the room sweltered. Delia pushed the covers from her body and sat up, nausea forcing her stomach to churn. “Yes, I agree we should be honest, but I worry what happens if he does not give you his blessing.” Would he still demand Delia marry him? She knew how important the marriage was to him right now. He would do anything to keep his secret and in a strange way protect Delia from his cousin. Why hadn’t he just dismissed her into Edward’s care? It would have proved easier for him.

  “It will not come to that, Delia.”

  How could he be so certain? Did Charles ever not get what he desired? Wealthy men had a knack for getting what they wanted, but there had to be an instance where it proved troubling. She did not want to be on the receiving side of that trouble. “In fact, on Saturday I suggest that we pay a visit to The Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations with the girls and afterwards we stop at your home to discuss the engagement with your father.”

  Her mouth had grown dry and she nodded, accepting his terms. A day at The Great Exhibition sounded exciting and she knew it would be a great experience for the girls to attend with them.

  “Very well, roll over and onto all fours, so that I may remove your plug,” he said, patting Delia’s bottom.

  She breathed a sigh of relief as the glass handle tugged from her bottom, feeling as though her insides were clenching around the shaft. She exhaled and allowed Charles to remove the device, her bottom feeling empty yet relaxed as she slumped down on the bed.

  “Not so fast,” Charles said, swatting her bottom. “I did not tell you we were done.”

  Delia whimpered and climbed onto all fours. “May I be done?” The insides of her bottom trembled, and her breathing hitched with fear that he would want to plug her again for the entire day as governess.

  “Yes,” he said and helped her off the bed. The gown fell around her waist and back down toward the floor, as Charles stood completely naked, with his morning wood, in front of her. “Get dressed and then check on the girls. It is time for them to be up for breakfast and then to begin their studies.” Charles leaned in toward Delia, his hands wrapping around her waist as his lips met hers again. “I want all of you,” he whispered as his hands smoothed down her back toward her bottom.

  Under her breath, Delia moaned, desiring more than just his tantalizing touch. Her body began to crave contact with his cock, wanting to taste and tongue his shaft. She dropped down onto her knees, her hands caressing his bottom as her mouth descended down onto his manhood, licking and sucking his rock hard cock, as her right hand came around to caress his balls.

  His fingers tangled in her dark hair, gripping her closer, pulling her in tighter as he slid his cock down her throat.

  She gripped his buttocks firmly, and dipped her neck back as his shaft forced its way past her mouth. She refrained from gagging, struggling to breathe through her nose, as he stretched her and pulled back only so far as the head of his cock grazed her lips.

  “Too much?” he asked, allowing her a moment to speak.

  He always seemed caring and thoughtful. “You are perfect, Charles. Do not stop.” She took him in past her lips and down her throat as his hips bucked and he thrust into her mouth.

  She stroked his balls, one finger dragging upward along the ridged base as he pulsed in her mouth, spilling cream down her throat and past her lips. She drank every drop possible, licking and sucking him dry before he pulled away from her embrace.

  The moment she no longer touched him, she missed the warmth of his caress and craved contact with him. “When will I see you
again?” It seemed such a silly question but she knew he had work and she had to tend to the girls.

  “Dinner tonight. You will tell me how the girls were and we shall begin the arrangements for our wedding. If you have any attendees you wish to invite, please give their name to Margaret. I will insist she handle the invitations and I will have them delivered on horseback to each attendee. In the meantime, leave Margaret your father’s address. I will suggest she pen a letter to him so that he might anticipate our arrival on Saturday.”

  “Yes.” Delia nodded, it was all she could do, feeling more than slightly overwhelmed at the prospects of not only marriage but informing her father the cherished news. No doubt Delia did feel excited to be marrying Charles, there were far worse men she could be betrothed to, but it was the fact he chose her that she found strange and unsettling. Of all the women he could choose, given his status in society, why her? Had it all been a stroke of luck because Edward had wanted Delia? What had made Charles protect her, so much that he had announced his engagement to her?

  “You look troubled,” Charles said, turning his back as he glanced through the armoire for appropriate attire to wear to work.

  “It is just the thought of wedding a man I hardly know,” Delia said. There was a bit of truth to the confession. Though they had been intimate, there was much she did not know of him. “Not that I wish to delay it, but I am nervous how my father will take the news.”

  Charles turned around. “We shall tell him together. Do not trouble yourself with such matters of the heart. I will take care of you, Delia. No matter what.” He slipped his shirt over his head and leaned in, brushing his lips over hers. “Get dressed and go look after the girls. They need your attention.”

  “Yes, of course.” Delia changed from the nightgown into a simple green satin dress with laced short-sleeves, over a linen chemise. She brushed her hair and tied the long strands up, twirling them to secure at the back of her head.