Free LORD BRAMBLE'S REHABILITATION by Damon Peters

his own age. Disagreeable as the maid's unavailability was, Isabel now worried the girl might let out a confidence and then everyone in the house would know the uses she put the girl to. Isabel cringed with the thought while dutifully eating her breakfast. How different things might have been, she thought.
    "May I?" she asked, seeing her father had finished with the newspaper.
    "Certainly," John answered for him and passed it to her. "You father also wishes to discuss your recent behaviour with you," he added.
    "My behaviour?" she asked, unable to stop her eyes from darting towards Sir Oswald.
    "Yes, you know, that thing that could be either good or bad but never indifferent," John smiled coldly.
    "I don't see it's any business of yours," she told him, and looked towards her father who was now also watching her, dark eyes holding his old intelligence hidden behind them. "Father is nearly fit again, and you can then all leave us in peace one again," she told him, and opened the paper in an attempt to bring the subject to a close.
    "You father has made it my business, and has persuaded me to remain here as his steward," John told her.
    "Daddy!" Isabel cried, aghast at the thought that this tall and gangly man would be running the house and estate from now on.
    "Which brings us back to your recent behaviour," he told her.
    Isabel licked her lips and looked towards Sir Oswald, hoping to find some support there, but it was clear from his expression as to which side he was on and all she could do was softly groan and nervously swallow.
    "I'm going to leave and stay with friends in London," she told them, her mind suddenly made up for her.
    "And compete with Rolland's liking for dressed up boys?" John asked. "I think not," he chuckled.
    "Dressed up boys?" she whimpered. She remembered his liking for her small and tight bottom, his attention on her anus, the way he had bent her over. She rushed her hands to her cheeks in an effort to hide their flaming surface and saw them all grin at her, even her father. They knew! They all knew!
    "Oh, we thought you knew. But obviously not," John murmured, and glanced at her father to take note of the old man's expression and waving hand.
    "No, you'll not be going to London, or anywhere else soon," he told her. "You'll remain here until you satisfy me that you are an appropriate emissary of this family and fit to be seen in public," he explained.
    "You can't do this!" she screamed, throwing down her serviette and standing from her chair to glare at the horrible ex-soldier.
    He smiled, an infuriating smile. "You have also earned yourself a feel of my hand, girl. Twenty; ten to each naked cheek, to be administered under the supervision of the nurses and Sir Oswald," he told her, his smile sliding away for him to stare firmly back at her, just waiting for her next outburst.
    Isabel looked from her father's unforgiving stare to Sir Oswald, catching the man glancing at her midriff, no doubt wondering how quickly her small buttocks would colour under the man's brisk hand-strokes. Seeing no support from anyone, Isabel wailed and rushed from the room, blinding running all the way to her room where she flung herself across the bed to weep.
    John sat and found himself shaking. Debora was there, calming him with softly spoken assurances while her hands deftly opened his trousers and extracted his penis. "Stay with me John. Stay with me," she murmured, her touches awakening his organ, a fresh and new sensation that drew him from memories of conflict.
    "That's it John," she murmured, dropping her mouth over his erection to bathe it in her hot saliva, tongue slipping around it to have it jerk in response and swell that little bit further.
    The man groaned and let the tension and anxiety flow out of him, pleasure taking their place. The others watched as Debora's head was forced to rise by the lengthening of his manhood, and Sir Oswald softly excused himself, off to find Lilly again while Penny, grinning