EXTRACT FOR
Spare The Rod
(Terri Pray)

					Chapter One

      	

      "He doesn't deserve all those fancy clothes and nice food. All he ever thinks about is himself. Men like him are all the same. Nothing more than spoiled lump of nothing, born to wealth and power they don't deserve." Her fingers curled tightly around the bars. Tall, wrought iron and locked, the double gates called to her. It had always been that way with Eliza, put a locked door in front of her and all she wanted to do was find out what lay behind the locks. Normally she would have relished the challenge that they offered, but for some reason these gates were ones she had tried to ignore, shut off the call they sent her way.

      The challenge hadn't faded though; every time she walked past the gates and glanced beyond them along the wide white pebble path it would taunt her. Even so, for the past year she had steadfastly ignored the call from beyond the locked gates. Shut it out to the best of her ability. Even to the point of closing her eyes, or running past them. Anything that would help her in her desire to ignore the challenge they offered.

      That was until today.

      Her stomach growled its complaint, and ignored the press of her hands against her body. How long had it been since she had eaten? Two, three days now? It couldn't have been that long. 

      She frowned.

      Did the stale bread she'd pulled from the dump at the back of the Inn count? That turnip had tasted foul, but it hadn't given her the flux as yet. She scowled afresh at the thought, knowing that the man who owned this place would have been sat at his fancy table with more food than she might have seen in a month. 

      Selfish, that's what he was, just selfish, he should have shared the food, his wealth, but instead he kept it all for himself. Begging didn't help, she'd tried that, he just ignored the out stretched hands or yelled at them to find work instead of begging. Men like that all ways screamed at people like her to find work and stop being so lazy.

      Work, what work?

      Unless she was willing to sell her body there wasn't any work in the village, nor within walking distance, and people like her didn't have the luxury of a fancy horse or carriage to take them where ever they needed to go. He didn't think of that did he when he tossed out his hurtful words. No, of course not. Why would he? She doubted he had had to struggle a day to survive a single day in his life.

      Would it be so bad just to climb past those gates, hurry up the path and into the house? She could nip inside and just take a look around, maybe collect a couple of things before leaving the village for good?

       He'd never know, they never did and she had learned to be so very careful in her explorations. Just take a few things, items they might not notice at first, but things that might buy her a few days worth of food, or maybe more.

      The day was drawing to an end, the best time, and he'd be in the village still sharing a few drinks in the pub, playing at being a common man. If she was going to do anything about it, then she'd have to do it soon, before she ran out of time.

      Common man indeed. She snorted at the thought. He could buy the village twice over and still have money to spare. Did he ever even buy a round of drinks? 

      He must do, or else he wouldn't be so popular amongst the men. Yes, he'd spend money on drink, but nothing else for people who weren't members of his household. 

      Her jaw set, hands grasped the gate as the well worn boots found places to clamber upwards. It was about time he shared that wealth a little, even if it was just in her direction.

      Her all ready tattered skirts caught on the iron, tearing at the hem, but that didn't stop her from heaving her small body over the top. A shove and her boots landed on the small pebbles with a low crunching sound. The noise didn't matter, not this time and she doubted anyone would be around to hear her.

      All she had to do was move quickly, and she could be in and out before he came back and long gone with a full stomach for the first time in a month.

      Brown curls streamed backwards as she ran down the gravel path, cold air reaching past the thin blouse she wore, nipples already hardening beneath the cloth. The cold didn't matter and it wouldn't be long before she could hide in the warmth of his home. Perhaps for a few moments she would be able to pretend it was really her home.

      The main door was locked, as were the others she found as she crept around the outside of the house. Even from the glances she had caught of the place she would never have guessed just how large it was. It had to be equally the size of the entire village, and all the doors were locked.

      Well, locked would slow her down, but certainly wouldn't stop her.

      Slender fingers pulled the small pin from her hair...

      

* * * *

      

      "You know, there is nothing quite as tempting as a locked door." Her gaze followed his boots across the hardwood floor, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of her lips. She'd barely had the door unlocked before she'd felt his hand on her shoulder, spinning her around to stare into those dark eyes. 

      Without a word he had dragged her past the wide eyed stares of a maid before yanking her through an oak door. Now, instead of finding some food for her aching belly, she stood in a room grander than she had ever imagined existed, his eyes boring past her clothes into her very being.

      "And that is your excuse for trying to break into my home?" The coldness in his eyes matched that of his voice. "You cannot truly expect me to accept that? Do you think me such a fool then, girl?"

      "No, Sir. Of course not. I only meant that ??" that I gave into temptation." Keep calm - she had to keep calm. That would help. If she just kept calm he would get the dressing down over and done with. What did he know of how much temptation his home offered her? 

      "Sir? I see. Now you remember your manners, after the fact? After you've been caught and not before. Foolish wench." He rounded on her, gaze boring into her body. "Perhaps you think a simple 'Sir' will soften my anger? Lessen my resolve? Are you naïve enough to believe a smile and a warm body presented before me will change anything that has happened?"

      Had she been presenting herself to him? She frowned at the idea. Eliza glanced down quickly, heat touching her cheeks as his words sparked a few ideas. It might have been interesting to offer herself up for a night or two in his bed in exchange for breaking in. 

      At least then she'd have been warm and well fed. 

      Isaac Hayden, Lord and Master of the village, was not an ugly man by any stretch of the imagination. With dark flashing eyes and hair to match he might have caught the attention of many a young woman. Somehow she doubted he needed the company of a young would be thief in his bed when half the eligible women of the area cast longing looks his way. Well tailored suit, linen shirt, even without his looks the wealth his clothes displayed would have drawn attention from many. Enough to look past other faults if it meant a chance to share his gold.

      "No, Sir, I wouldn't dream of suggesting such a thing. I'm not like that. Truly I'm not." It would have been a waste of time, no matter how interesting the night might have been with him. Unless he was trying to get her to suggest that? She wasn't sure what to think with the way he looked at her.

      It was too late now. Not that he would have taken her up on the suggestion if she had made it. She'd be fooling herself to think otherwise. So why did it seem as though his gaze lingered a little longer than it should across the curve of her breasts?

      "I see, well at least that shows a little sense on your behalf." His hands folded in the small of his own back, the pacing finally coming to a halt fully. 

      "Can I go now?" The words were a mistake she realized that a heart beat after uttering them.  "I mean..."

      "You really think you are going to get off that easily? You break into my home, no doubt with the intention of trying to steal from me, and then think that simply being caught would be the end of the matter?" A single step, still it was enough to bring him close enough to feel his breath on her face. "For a moment I thought you had some trace of common sense lingering behind those sullen eyes of yours."

      Her jaw clenched, lips compressing as she fought to keep her comments locked behind her own teeth. Hands clenched at her sides, nails half digging into her own palms. Good looks or not, he had no right to insult her.

      She wasn't stupid. 

      So, she'd broken into the wrong house, but hunger had robbed her of reason and...

      "Is that anger I see in your eyes? You dare to be angry when you broke into my home?" His eyes narrowed, one hand grasping her by the shoulder, shaking her violently with each new word. "You think highly of yourself, don't you? Stupid girl. You're little more than a village brat, but you'd dare to give yourself airs that belong to those far better than you."

      "You - you arrogant bastard! You really think only your kind have the right to feel anything?" Hand snapped upwards, trying to knock his aside, her lips clamped shut too late to prevent the words from spilling forth. "I'm sorry Sir, I didn't mean..."

      Fingers clamped tighter on her arm, dragging her across the room. Her attempt to free herself from his grasp was a futile one, though it didn't prevent her from trying again. "A little private lesson before I turn you over to the constable."

      "What? I thought you didn't want that?" Eliza tried to dig her feet into the ground, find a way to stop him from dragging her, but he was the stronger. She wouldn't let him take her. Offering herself up was one thing, being forced another matter entirely especially if he still intended to turn her over to the Constable afterwards.

      The laugh that rang in her ears sent shivers down her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. "I think you have the wrong idea young lady. But you'll soon understand what I have in mind for you."

      Instead of the bedroom or couch, he took his place on a simple stool that sat by the fireplace. Firm hands pulled her across his lap, one tugging at her skirt pushing them up to her waist baring her ass with ease. Brown, unruly, curls fell across her face, small heels of her well worn ankle boots drummed quickly against the floor. "What, what do you think you are you doing?"

      "Giving you the hiding you should have got at an earlier age." Thin petticoat and bloomers ripped under his fingers, tossed into the living flame of the fire. "By the time I am finished with you, that fire will feel a lot cooler than your ass."

      It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about, but the first crack of his hand across her now bare ass pushed away all doubts.

      She kicked, fingers digging into his leg, trying to find a way free, but his free hand kept her pinned across his lap. Fear and pain pushed at her to struggle further even as the next blow landed.

      Crack!

      "Let me go!" Teeth sought out his leg, trying to find a place to latch into his skin, wanting free of his grip, away from the pain his hand offered her. "Oh, god, let me go please!"

      Crack!

      Fingers burned into her skin. She'd been hit before, the occasional swat in a bar, or dodged a blow in younger years from her Mother, but nothing like this.

      Crack!

      Teeth found his leg, latching on for a moment. His cry followed quickly on by a fresh torrent of swats. The second hard enough to loosen her grip on his flesh. Her own cry replacing his within the room.

      "That was foolish." Words hissed from between gritted teeth. "Very foolish indeed." 

      Had he expected her to just lay there and take it? Was he completely out of his mind?

      SWAT!

      The scream shocked her almost as much as the pain from the blow did. How could anyone hit so hard with just a bare hand? 

      Smack!

      With barely enough time to breathe a new blow knocked the breath from her body along with the choked cry of pain. 

      Crack!

      Her back arched, legs weakly kicked out, wanting nothing more than to yank free, but she lacked the ability to fight. 

      "You will learn both from my hand and that of the constable and warden to behave yourself. No more thieving, no more cheek from you. Just a few good lessons at the School."

      Crack!

      School, what school? She tried to think, tried to reason, but each fresh crack pushed her further into the well of pain. Heat, shock, fear, all mixed as one, tears stinging at her eyes. Shame building with each new swat to her skin.

      It couldn't get any worse, wouldn't get any worse. He would stop soon, he had to.

      "Please, no more. Please." Salt touched her lips but he didn't seem to notice either her tears or her words. "I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it!"

      Crack!

      Her hair caught across damp skin, her legs weakly scissoring with the new blow, hands hung limp above the ground. How could anyone be so cruel, she'd just wanted to take a few things, just a few, he wouldn't have missed them.

      Crack!

      Smack!

      "Please..." she whimpered, barely able to say anything more. Each new blow tore a cry from her lips as she was held in place, her buttocks burning from the punishment he inflicted on her.

      Crack!

      She wanted to plead further, but lacked the strength to do so. Each new wave of pain leaving her with barely enough to jerk her head up, utter a small cry and collapse back down before the next blow landed.

      Time lost meaning.

      He could have been doing this for hours, or only a few minutes. It didn't matter, wouldn't have lessened the pain. That's all she wanted, the pain to ease. Instead he continued with crack after crack against her skin, pushing her breath into gasping wet gulps.

      She didn't deserve this.

      No one deserved treatment of this nature.

      Crack!

      Her body braced for the next blow, but it never came. Instead light fingers traced over flaming skin, dancing a pathway across to the curve of her buttocks. "Such a nice color, though just the beginning. It will improve, with enough work, it will improve."

      Improve?

      One hand grasped her hair, tugging her from across his lap, skirt falling back over flaming skin a few shreds of cloth catching about her booted ankles. Her feet didn't want to move, but the grip on her hair left her no choice as he marched her across the room to a corner.

      "Put your hands on your head." The grip left her hair, skirts yanked back up, his hands encircling her waist long enough to tie her clothing about her body. "I said hands on your head, now wench. I'm in no mood to wait for you to remember how to behave around your betters." Fingers slapped still stinging skin, urging unwilling hands to rest on her head.

      What did he want of her?

      He pushed her closer to the wall, until her nose touched the paint. "Move from there without permission and I will blister that ass of yours without a moment's regret."

      Hadn't he already managed that?

      Her body felt as though she had had the skin blistered from her buttocks. Now shame added to the pain as her nose pressed against the wall, hands tangled in her own hair when all they really wanted to do was cover her stinging skin.

      What gave him the right to treat her like this?

      Footsteps moved away from her, a door opening, did she dare to move? No he could just be waiting by the door, watching for her to break position. After the spanking he had given her, anything was possible.

      The Constable?

      He wouldn't turn her over to him after what he had done? Surely that would be dangerous. He'd struck her, couldn't she report him for it, maybe distract attention from herself?

      Who was she trying to fool?

      Why would they take the word of a no name thief over Isaac? God, she had to be insane to even contemplate that. It wouldn't happen, better to focus on other ideas. A way of getting through the next few hours until she could break safe from his hold.

      Paint rubbed against her nose, legs trembled, hands itched to rub at her stinging skin. He had to let her rub away some of the pain. Surely he'd left hand imprints there, or welts?

      Why was he doing this to her?

      Cruel, just cruelty. She'd heard how the rich could be like this, so why did a small part of her almost feel at ease with her spanking?

      It had to be the lack of food.

      

* * * *

      

      Her arms ached, legs trembled, shoulders felt as though lead weights had been sat upon them. Still he hadn't given her leave to move, though the door had opened several times, accompanied by the sound of foot steps across the room. Eliza couldn't even be certain it had been Isaac who had entered and then left the room, not once had he, or whoever it had been, spoken. 

      Did he plan on leaving her here all night?

      It had to be night by now as the sun had been low on the horizon before she had tried to slip into his home unseen. Looking back on it, trying to break into the biggest house in the village had been a mistake from the beginning. Not one she would repeat, if she ever had the chance to be free again.

      Constables didn't take kindly to thieves, male, female, it made no difference. If she was lucky the beating Isaac had given her would be the worst of it. Maybe just six months in the workhouse, or some time working off her crime in the fields? They couldn't all be as heartless as Isaac. Could they?

      How much longer would she have to wait?

      Part of her wondered if her arms would even be able to move if she tried to disobey his instructions. She'd been standing there so long that the only things that seemed to be holding her were will power and her nose pressed to the wall.

      Another creak of the door seeped through her pain filled mind. Just another chance for him to check on her positioning. Did he secretly hope she had moved so he could add more color to her ass?

      "Well, I am surprised that you managed to stay in position. There might be some hope for you after all." Was that a hint of admiration in his voice, or just her imagination? She couldn't be certain, nor did she dare try and ask him.

      Her fingers wanted to clench, but they remained wrapped in her own hair, unable to move. Nothing more than a passing amusement, that's all she was to him. 

      "The Constable will be here shortly, I've arranged for him to escort you to Mr. Beckley's Reform School for young women. With luck they might be able to help turn you into a useful member of society." His hands touched her shoulder, tracing up into her hair, then down the length of her spine before cupping at the warmth of her buttocks. "Pity, I had hoped they would still be blazing, but no doubt I am out of practice. Perhaps I should visit you during your stay at the Reform School, and check on your progress."

      "I don't understand Sir. I mean, don't I go before the Magistrate to be sentenced?" He had to be trying to make her beg, panic, something. He couldn't be sending her away without a hearing, a trial, being brought before one of the robes. It just didn't make any sense. 

      Wasn't that against the law? Or rules. Or custom? She'd never heard of it happening this way before. 

      "Think I'd waste the time in disturbing the Magistrate over someone like you?" His fingers tapped against her ass and for a moment she feared he would add a few fresh spanks to her sore skin. "No, it would be better to send you where you belong. Mr. Beckley is an old friend of mine and I am sure he will take good care of you. You will be taught what you need to know in order to survive, and if you have any sense you'll take the lessons to heart. Is that understood, wench?"

      Care? Eliza wasn't going to lie and say she liked how that sounded. If he was a friend of Isaac's then he wouldn't be easy going. No flash of brown eyes, or dimpled smile would be able to save her. Just as it hadn't from the cruel spanking Isaac had seen fit to introduce her to.

      First time her smile hadn't been able to lessen the trouble she had found herself in, and she wasn't sure that she fully objected to that.

      "No, Sir, I just thought that... you're really sending me there? To that place?" Nothing good came from the Reform School. Rumors, just rumors that left her with a sick feeling. "I won't do it again, I swear, just don't send me there."

      Strong fingers massaged at her cheeks, rubbing her sore body, pressing her closer to the wall. "And you'd do almost anything to avoid being sent there, wouldn't you?"

      "Yes, yes Sir. Please don't." 

      "Almost anything isn't good enough. By the time you come back from there you will do anything. Then I'll see if I have a better place to send you to." His words sent her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach. "Or maybe I'll keep you here, once you're trained up."

      Trained for what?

      "No questions, or do you just fear the answer?" Squeezing fingers pressed into her skin, pushing her higher onto toes that did not want to respond. Her body, already ill used by her standards, shrieked in protest though she kept the sound locked firmly behind her teeth. Only pride kept her silent, he'd already gained far too much enjoyment from her and she was unwilling to offer him any more.

      "Stubborn wench, it will be interesting to see what improvements Mr. Beckley manages to wring from