so flattering or kind to her.
"My school of littles is kept a secret from the finishing school to help quash any suspicions that might be cast upon someone entering the chateau. I have worked diligently to ensure the protection and anonymity of the men who join us for our exclusive school. We do not wish to soil anyone's reputation here."
Etta challenged him in every way possible. "Why do they need to keep what they are doing, what you are doing, a secret?"
Philip's eyes narrowed. "That is enough, Etta. I do not care for your tone." The conversation was over, and just in time, as breakfast was brought to the table. "Eat your eggs." He stood, moving closer toward her at the table.
With fork in hand, she nibbled on the scrambled eggs. They were seasoned and spicy, making her mouth water as she gobbled up as much food as she could. Her mouth hung agape as she stared up at him. Was he coming over to spank her?
He reached for his knife and grabbed her extra fork, cutting the sausage into small, bite-sized pieces.
She paused, stabbing her fork into one of the small pieces of sausage. She held it in the air as she spoke. "Why are you cutting up my food?"
Philip nodded toward the utensil in her hand. "Put that down when you speak. It is impolite to toss food around."
Sheepishly she placed the fork on her plate. She asked the question again. "Why do I not get a knife?" Did he think she'd use it as a weapon? She was not exactly being kept against her will, but she did not know what was being required of her at the time she signed the contract, either. Though, in truth, Etta had nowhere else to go, no trade, no job, or prospects of a husband.
"At the Ashbury Chateau, you are a little one. Everything will be provided for you. You need not have a care in the world, my little love. Do you remember when I told you it would be like going on holiday?"
"Yes."
"Was I wrong?" Philip asked.
It did not feel like a second home, or a trip to the ocean with the waves crashing on her feet and the sand sticking in her toes. However, she also felt free. In a way, he was right, and Etta hated to admit it, especially aloud. For years she'd spent her days caring for a dying man. Now she had someone who was interested in caring for her. She did not feel like she belonged though, did he not see that?
"I do not know how you want me to be," Etta said, her voice whiny. If she was supposed to please him, she was at a loss as to how.
"Just be yourself," Philip said. He kissed her forehead and sat back down at the table. "Now finish your breakfast, and if you are a good girl, you can go play in the playroom when you are done."
Chapter VIII
The questions were tiresome. Philip wanted to take Etta over his knee just to silence her, but he vowed only to use strict discipline when it was necessary. Her inquisitive mind was exactly like that of a child; questioning and curious over everything. He could not fault her for that.
Once they had finished breakfast, Philip had Nanny Mae take Etta to the playroom to meet the other littles.
His stomach gurgled at the thought of Etta and Leda plotting their escape from the chateau together. No. Leda was a good little one. Etta would take some time to accept her role as submissive, and there was no reason to believe otherwise.
He pushed all thoughts aside and stood, walking from the dining room out into the hall. The school was quiet, exceptionally so for an afternoon when classes were in session, though he knew the girls were busy in their classes, learning proper etiquette and behavior. Their afternoon break was often met with rowdiness and unruly young girls who needed a reminder to their bottoms about the proper way to behave.
Perhaps he should have gone to the eastern wing to check on the other girls, but he felt drawn toward the playroom. He wanted to watch Etta and see how she interacted with the other littles.
The wall between the playroom and the hall was made of glass, allowing him the
"My school of littles is kept a secret from the finishing school to help quash any suspicions that might be cast upon someone entering the chateau. I have worked diligently to ensure the protection and anonymity of the men who join us for our exclusive school. We do not wish to soil anyone's reputation here."
Etta challenged him in every way possible. "Why do they need to keep what they are doing, what you are doing, a secret?"
Philip's eyes narrowed. "That is enough, Etta. I do not care for your tone." The conversation was over, and just in time, as breakfast was brought to the table. "Eat your eggs." He stood, moving closer toward her at the table.
With fork in hand, she nibbled on the scrambled eggs. They were seasoned and spicy, making her mouth water as she gobbled up as much food as she could. Her mouth hung agape as she stared up at him. Was he coming over to spank her?
He reached for his knife and grabbed her extra fork, cutting the sausage into small, bite-sized pieces.
She paused, stabbing her fork into one of the small pieces of sausage. She held it in the air as she spoke. "Why are you cutting up my food?"
Philip nodded toward the utensil in her hand. "Put that down when you speak. It is impolite to toss food around."
Sheepishly she placed the fork on her plate. She asked the question again. "Why do I not get a knife?" Did he think she'd use it as a weapon? She was not exactly being kept against her will, but she did not know what was being required of her at the time she signed the contract, either. Though, in truth, Etta had nowhere else to go, no trade, no job, or prospects of a husband.
"At the Ashbury Chateau, you are a little one. Everything will be provided for you. You need not have a care in the world, my little love. Do you remember when I told you it would be like going on holiday?"
"Yes."
"Was I wrong?" Philip asked.
It did not feel like a second home, or a trip to the ocean with the waves crashing on her feet and the sand sticking in her toes. However, she also felt free. In a way, he was right, and Etta hated to admit it, especially aloud. For years she'd spent her days caring for a dying man. Now she had someone who was interested in caring for her. She did not feel like she belonged though, did he not see that?
"I do not know how you want me to be," Etta said, her voice whiny. If she was supposed to please him, she was at a loss as to how.
"Just be yourself," Philip said. He kissed her forehead and sat back down at the table. "Now finish your breakfast, and if you are a good girl, you can go play in the playroom when you are done."
Chapter VIII
The questions were tiresome. Philip wanted to take Etta over his knee just to silence her, but he vowed only to use strict discipline when it was necessary. Her inquisitive mind was exactly like that of a child; questioning and curious over everything. He could not fault her for that.
Once they had finished breakfast, Philip had Nanny Mae take Etta to the playroom to meet the other littles.
His stomach gurgled at the thought of Etta and Leda plotting their escape from the chateau together. No. Leda was a good little one. Etta would take some time to accept her role as submissive, and there was no reason to believe otherwise.
He pushed all thoughts aside and stood, walking from the dining room out into the hall. The school was quiet, exceptionally so for an afternoon when classes were in session, though he knew the girls were busy in their classes, learning proper etiquette and behavior. Their afternoon break was often met with rowdiness and unruly young girls who needed a reminder to their bottoms about the proper way to behave.
Perhaps he should have gone to the eastern wing to check on the other girls, but he felt drawn toward the playroom. He wanted to watch Etta and see how she interacted with the other littles.
The wall between the playroom and the hall was made of glass, allowing him the
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