Laura: An Age Play Romance Read online

  By the time the clock chimed in the entrance hall she had an idea. The sonorous tones were still echoing as she leapt from her bed and ran down the backstairs. She wondered why she had not thought of it sooner. If she were to find Robert, the gardener who often flirted with her, despite the age and class gap between them, she might be able to prove to her father the dangers of crossing her, the things she might do in revenge.

  She found Robert amongst the rhododendrons, pulling out the few weeds that had managed to survive in the gloom underneath. “Afternoon miss,” he said, standing up and inclining his cap. “Looking as beautiful as ever today.”

  She looked at him. Late forties or early fifties, once handsome, though those looks had now faded somewhat, his hair showing hints of grey, his beard flecked with white. His arms were still thick with sinew though, his folded up shirt sleeves revealing his muscle to her gaze. Father will be furious, she thought.

  “Would you take a walk with me Robert?” she asked. “There is a flower I have found which I wish for your help in identifying.”

  “Of course miss. I am your servant.”

  “Yes, you are aren’t you?” She began to walk across the lawn with Robert following. “If I were to tell you to do something, you would do it, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course miss.”

  They reached a mossy path which led into a copse of birch trees surrounding a fish pond. Beyond the pond there was a clearing and it was here that Laura stopped.

  “Is this where the flower is miss?” Robert asked.

  “You’ll see it in a minute,” she replied, stretching up on her tiptoes and planting a soft kiss on his lips.

  “What are you doing miss?” he asked, blinking as he pushed her away from him. “You’ll get me in trouble with your father.”

  “I won’t tell him if you won’t,” she replied, grabbing his arms and kissing him again.

  She had never kissed anyone in passion before but she’d read about it in countless books and felt certain she knew what to do. She thought of her father’s face when he found out she had kissed a gardener. And of course he would find out for she was going to tell him right now.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as Robert slid his arms around her, holding her body against his. “Unhand me at once.”

  “Not yet,” he replied, pressing his lips back against hers. As his tongue plunged deep into her mouth, she felt him stiffen against her, a firmness digging into her from his trousers which alarmed her.

  “I must get back to the house, father will be looking for me,” she said, pulling her head back from him, though she remained unable to wriggle out of his arms.

  “You have a flower to show me first,” he said. “You cannot go until you have shown me.”

  Laura felt suddenly terrified. She had gone from being in charge of the situation to feeling totally out of control in the blink of an eye. She looked into the eyes of the gardener and decided there was only one course of action open to her.

  “I have wanted to kiss you for a very long time,” he said, still holding her in place. “Now I have something to show you if you are willing?”

  She nodded but as soon as he loosened his grip on her arms she brought her knee up hard between his legs. As he fell to the ground, he groaned in pain but Laura ignoring him. Instead she turned and ran, sprinting out of the wood with her hair streaming behind her. She could hear Robert crashing through the branches and when she looked back he emerged with a snarl on his face. “You shouldn’t start what you can’t finish,” he called out, one hand between his legs as he winced at the effort of running.

  At that moment a figure stepped in front of Robert, holding out his foot. Robert tripped straight over the foot and stumbled to the ground, rolling to a halt as Laura slowed, wondering who on earth that was.

  “Quite right,” the figure said. “You shouldn’t start what you can’t finish.”

  The figure turned to face Laura and she frowned, looking into the eyes of a man she had never met before in her life. He was around thirty years old though his eyes suggested in those years he had seen many things, not all good. He did not smile, indeed he looked angry at the very sight of Laura. She felt a tremble pass through her as his eyes seemed to bore deep into her soul. He wore a greatcoat despite the heat and his top hat seemed so solidly affixed to his head as to be part of his hair rather than a removable object.

  “Good day to you Laura,” he said, stepping over the prostrated gardener and walking over to her. “My name is Edward Westall. You will call me Papa.”

  Chapter 4 - Edward

  When Edward arrived at Rothsfield House he did not expect to encounter Laura straight away. Passing through the gates, the carriage slowed to a stop and he rapped on the roof. “Move on will you?”

  “There is someone heading into the wood over there,” his driver called back. “Might be your student.”

  Edward opened the door and looked out in time to see a young woman vanishing into the distant treeline. Behind her a man followed. Interesting, he thought. That could be no one other than Laura. From the description given in the letter he had a rough idea how she looked but the haughty way she walked into the wood as if she were in charge of the entire world. It could only be her. Well she would soon learn.

  “I’ll walk from here Gerald,” he said, stepping down onto the grass. “Wait by the house for us. Be ready to leave at short notice. I feel they may protest.”

  “Very good sir.”

  He watched the carriage roll away before making his way across the lawn towards the copse of trees. Just as he reached them, the young woman came running out, her cheeks dark with embarrassment. He was about to speak to her when the man followed, dark machinations at work on his mind. Without pausing, he held out his foot and tripped the man, bringing him to ground in seconds. He introduced himself as the man stood up and faced him. “I would unclench those fists if I were you,” he added as the man glared at him.

  “She kissed me,” the man said, pointing across at Laura.

  “Did she now?” Edward replied. “Naughty girl.” He turned to the girl. “Laura, come with me.”

  “I will do no such thing,” she replied, turning and storming away across the lawn, cursing and complaining as she went. The man rolled his eyes and turned to Edward.

  “Robert Barker,” the man said, holding out a hand. “Been gardener here twenty years and that’s the first time I felt like leaving my post. She’s done some damage to me, I swear it. Kneed me right here.” He rubbed between his legs and winced.

  “You’ve seen her grow up then,” Edward said, ignoring his complaint.

  “I have that. She were a difficult child and she’s only got worse. If you ask me, she needs a firm spanking to put her right.”

  “Oh I could not agree more. Do not worry though, by the time I’m done with her, she will be good as gold.”

  Robert raised his eyebrows. “Who are you?”

  “I’m going to be her papa.”

  “Papa? But she already has a father.”

  “Ah, this is something quite different. Now if you’ll excuse me I am expected at the house.”

  “Of course. I’ll leave you to it. Might just sit here and recover for a minute anyway.”

  Edward left the gardener behind him and strode towards the house. Walking around the edge of the building he noticed the back door was open. No doubt she had left it open.

  “Hello there,” he called out as he walked into the hallway within. An answering voice came almost at once.

  “I say, who’s there?” It was a man’s voice. A second later a gentleman stepped out into the hallway, followed closely behind was a woman at least ten years younger than him, possibly more. “Is that you Mr Westall?”

  “It is,” he replied, walking across and shaking the proffered hand. “I have come to assess your daughter Laura.”

  “Of course, come through, come through. You are quite the unconventional fellow to enter by the back door.”
>
  “It is how everyone in Amsterdam does it.”

  “Is it really?” Lord Rothsfield said, shaking his head. “I did not know that.”

  They settled in the parlour, Edward in an armchair and Lord and Lady Rothsfield together on a sofa opposite him, looking much as if they were about to be interviewed for a job, which Edward found most amusing.

  “I read your letter with great interest Lord Rothsfield,” Edward said.

  “You did?” he replied. “Do you think you can fix the girl?”

  “Fix is not a word I like. I prefer to think of it as bringing out what is already inside them. Girls like Laura do not mean to be bad. They have merely had it too easy in life.”

  “I told you,” Maria said, nudging her husband who turned and scowled at her.

  “She is a wilful one,” Lord Rothsfield said. “Since her mother died…”

  “Spare me the details,” Edward said. “They all have a sob story behind them. I have heard them all. No story is bad enough to excuse the sort of behaviour I have just observed in your daughter.”

  “You have met her already?”

  “I have. She is rude, impolite, obnoxious. In short, she is a brat.”

  “Oh dear. Is it really that bad?”

  “It took seconds to see the issue. A lack of discipline at home. You have a child attempting to act as an adult. You need an adult allowed to act as a child.”

  “I am not sure I follow you.”

  “It matters not. What matters is whether I agree to take her on and I am in two minds over that particular decision.”

  “Oh tell me you will take her. Money is no object. My wife tells me you do the finest work.”

  “Your wife is too kind. I do my best and what more can anyone do?”

  “Indeed.”

  Edward leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “I am in two minds because I am not certain what you will think of my methods. I am strict, some have even called me cruel. I will not spare the girl punishment if I think she deserves it. Could you handle that? Would you take her back if she posted you a sob story of her own about her mistreatment at my hands?”

  Lord Rothsfield turned to his wife. “Perhaps we should reconsider.”

  She glared back at him. “I will make it very simple. Either she goes with Mr Westall here or I leave this house and never return.”

  Edward glanced across at Lady Rothsfield. Interesting that she should be the one demanding they let Laura go. “I can promise she will come back a different person. You just may not like who she becomes.”

  “It can be no worse than who she is now,” Lord Rothsfield admitted. “If you will take her, I will let her go.”

  “You would ignore her pleading to come home if you receive such a missive?”

  “I would.”

  “And if she ran away from my establishment and came back to you, begging that you let her stay at home?”

  I would escort her back to you myself.”

  “You would not visit until such time as I say she is ready to rejoin society again?”

  “I will await your word sir and not move from this house until then.”

  Edward allowed himself a quiet smile. This was perfect. He had the challenge he needed and best of all ,these two did not seem the type who would interfere. He had free reign to choose the treatment she needed and he already knew exactly what that was. “We will begin at once,” he said, standing up. “Where is her bedroom?”

  Chapter 5 - Laura

  Laura awoke from her nap to find a strange man towering over her bed. She looked up and frowned. She recognised him. “Awake at last,” he growled as she realised who he was. “Come on. My carriage is waiting.”

  It was the man she had encountered in the grounds. The one who had told her to call him papa as if he had any say over her whatsoever.

  “Who are you?” she asked as she sat up. “How did you get in here?”

  “I am your papa,” he replied. “And you shall wear this.” He tossed a square of thick towelling fabric towards her. “We have a long journey ahead of us and I shall not be making stops for your convenience.”

  “What is this?” she asked, holding the cloth up to the light.

  “You are an imbecile aren’t you? Do you not recognise a nappy when you see one?”

  “A nappy? You would bid me to wear a nappy? I am not an infant.”

  “That is not what I hear from your parents.”

  “That woman downstairs is not my parent.”

  He waved away her protest. “Irrelevant. Now I shall ask this one time only. Will you put that thing on yourself?”

  “I will not.”

  “Very well.” He threw her back onto the bed, pulling the blankets off and tossing them behind him. “I shall do it myself.”

  “Let go of me this instant,” she said, protesting vehemently and attempting to scramble away from him.

  “Stop your wriggling or it will be the worse for you,” he replied, grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her back towards him. He pushed her chest down with one hand, surprising her with his sheer strength. He yanked at her nightdress with his other hand, ignoring her legs as they lashed out towards him. “By God you will be still or you will pay the price.”

  He twisted her onto her side and she caught a glimpse of his hand as it moved through the air and then she felt a solid smack on her buttocks. “Ouch!” she yelled. “Father, come and help me! He is beating me to death!”

  “Your father knows you need this,” Edward replied, spanking her again. “By the deuce, it is well overdue.”

  He continued spanking her as she struggled to free herself. She felt her buttocks burn with heat as his hand descended again and again. Soon she felt nothing but the pain which grew from embarrassing to overwhelming in under a minute as he continued to spank her until he was panting for breath. At last he stopped, looking at the tears streaming down her face, the colour in her cheeks as she glared up at him with a mixture of defiance and fear visible in her eyes. ““How could you do that to me?” she asked, tugging her nightdress back over her bare buttocks. She was so shocked by what had happened she barely knew how to react. Why had her father not come to her rescue when she called?

  “You needed that,” Edward said, picking up the square of cloth. “There will be plenty more where that came from if you do not behave. Now you will lay on your back and I will tie this in place. You will not struggle else I will make you so sore you will be unable to sit down for the entirety of the journey.”

  She looked at his face and saw there was no room for negotiation. She either did what he said or he would cause her pain. What choice did she have? Slowly she turned onto her back, wincing as her reddened buttocks touched the bed sheet.

  “Good little girl,” he said, a flicker of a smile appearing on his lips.

  Despite her discomfort, something inside Laura sparked at the thought of pleasing him. She shook the thought away, knowing she hated him more than anyone else in the world, more than her stepmother in fact.

  With little ceremony, he lifted her legs and shoved the cloth under her posterior. With one hand he yanked her left leg sideways, revealing the core of her body to him as she felt utter humiliation. He seemed not to notice the sight, his attention entirely focussed on gathering the corners of the cloth and tying them around her hips. Only when he was done did he allow her to stand up.

  She slid down the bed and stood before him, feeling the cloth thick and heavy between her legs. She went to move the knot by her right hip and he growled at her. “I warn you that if you cross me you will pay the consequences.”

  “You will be the one that pays for this,” she replied. “When father finds out what you have done.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “Are you so sure?”

  She watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The writing that covered it was so small as to be barely legible but she clearly recognised her father’s signature at the bottom.
“What is this?”

  “A legally binding contract that makes me your papa and you my little. Until I deem you ready, you are under my jurisdiction. I have full say over everything that happens to you. You will be punished if you disobey me and your father has agreed to my terms in full.”

  “He wouldn’t…”

  “He would and he did. Now get dressed for the day draws on and we have wasted enough time as it is.”

  “Get dressed? With you standing there watching me?”

  “You will get used to far more. Modesty is for adults. You have proved yourself a selfish brat, not an adult. As such you are not to be trusted on your own.”

  “I will not change with you in the room.”

  “Very well.” He grabbed her wrist in an insanely firm grip and dragged her over to the wardrobe, ignoring her protests. Reaching inside he pulled out the first dress he found, a light summer frock that she had not worn in years. “Let go of me,” she snapped, attempting to pull away from him.

  He turned towards her, leaning closely towards her face. “You will stand perfectly still there and not make a sound.”

  She felt utterly terrified by the sound of his voice. It was cold and yet full of anger, rage that seemed to tremble just below the surface, and heaven help anyone who was around when it erupted. Her heart pounded as he stared unblinking at her, his teeth bared just enough to make her wonder if he might bit her like a wild animal if she chose to disobey him.

  She did as he asked, standing perfectly still even after he had let go of her wrist. He pulled her nightdress up her body and off her shoulders, watching her closely as he did so.

  Fighting to keep her emotions in check, she did her best to avoid thinking about the fact she was naked in front of a virtual stranger. He did not seem to care for the sight of her though, pushing her head through the frock and sliding it down her body a moment later as if he were dressing a mannequin, not a human being.