"Well, obviously, we have to go straight to the constables and inform them that Lord Thompson and Sir Starfellow are both in need of being clapped in irons," Marci said, frowning as she adjusted her suit jacket with her hands -- the rest of the house staff was bustling about in a mad, tearing hurry. "And we should cancel their invitations to the fox hunt...."
"No, we can't!" I said, hurriedly, as behind me, Abby finished scrounging up some ladies gloves that would be good for riding around on a horse. She held one up to my hand, her eyes narrowing as she made a tiny 'hmm' noise and leaned in close, clearly working to compare my fingers to whoever had owned the lady's glove. I figure Albert's mom? Either way, I tried to ignore her and focus on Marci -- which was easy because Marci was turning around to narrow her eyes at me.
"And why is that? You said yourself that they're both up to something nefarious -- possibly
murderous
," she said.
"Because..." I paused, then looked down at my hands. "Because I...I realized...if they involved Albert, and we don't know, and that means, they can go and tell the constables about whatever it was Albert did, and me being Lucy wouldn't matter, cause either I tell them the truth and then I'm not your mistress anymore, and...or I don't, or, I do and they don't believe me...and...then..." I whispered. "Then you'll be all alone again..."
I'll be all alone again.
Marci sighed, slowly. "We can't simply allow them to do whatever it is they're planning. If it involves the Most Honorable Royal Machine Company-"
"That's just it!" I said, nodding. "We have to stop them! But we can't get the constables involved until we know that
I
won't go to jail for it too! We have to get more evidence, find out what they're doing, and then put a stop to it." I grinned, shyly. "Besides...it'll be a fun adventure, right?"
Marci rolled her eyes. "Georgette, what
are
you teaching this young miss?"
Georgette, who was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the sitting room (which, hey, made sense, sitting rooms were for sitting), looked up from the book she was reading and narrowed her eyes. "I've been cramming her for the dance and preparing her to entertain any future husband she might get...I didn't have time to teach her much else." She sighed. "And the husband training is seeming fairly unlikely...you didn't meet anyone at the dance, did you?"
"Oh, uh, I did meet a Mr. O'Neill..." I said, biting my lip as my entire belly suddenly exploded into butterflies, thinking about Amanda. Guhhh. A cis girl with he/him pronouns did funny things to my brains. Turned them gooy. Into sexy brains. Sex brain. No brain, only sex. I blushed, then realized that I was, um, tenting my pants a little -- and that Georgette was looking shocked.
"A Mr. O'Neill? Well!" She said, standing up, huffing. "I had been thinking we wouldn't need to train you in certain arts...but..." She walked over. "As the materials for your bottom surgery are still a few days off, we'll need to get you prepared." She took my arm and spoke over my head to Marci. "We have...how long until the guests arrive for the fox hunt?"
Ah yes. The fox hunt. It had been a bit of an unpleasant shock to find that my social calendar involved a fox hunt with the two grotty old dudes that I was pretty sure were planning something evil as shit and fucky as hell. It had all been set up way before I'd ever swapped with Albert -- and canceling it was possible...but also
super
rude, and...I had to do my social niceties, and...well...the only nice thing about the whole affair was that apparently, it was with holographic foxes rather than real ones. Oh, also, I managed to get Ami in the guest list.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
"Three hours. And, hopefully, the Maria will arrive before them, I do want to get her at least a little acclimated..." Marci said.
Jenny stuck her head into the room. "Yo!" she said. "The cargo rocket is here, and the boxie is on her way."
"Excellent," Marci said. "...say...the skiff you took back from the surface seemed a mite banged up, you didn't break the speed limiters did you?"
"...no..." Jenny said as Georgette started to escort me away.
"Young miss, did Messenger break the speed limiters?" Marci asked, turning to face me. I froze -- and Georgette turned me to face Marci and I blushed. Okay, Lucy. Don't be a narc. Everyone hated Narcs. I gulped, then said.
"Noperino!" I said, nodding.
"She's lying," Georgette said, her eyes narrowing.
"What? No!" I exclaimed.
"We'll deal with this
later...
" Marci said, glaring at Jenny, who looked as innocent as it was possible for a spunky robot girl to look. "Georgette, get young miss through whatever it is you wish to teach her."
Georgette's palm fell on my shoulder. She leaned in. She whispered. "Young ladies do not
lie
."
...I was even harder now.
Georgette took me to the tutoring room then sighed. "I was originally planning to do this gently, young miss. But since you decided to be a little
fibber,
I suppose that I can let myself go..." She chuckled, quietly.
"W-What's going to happen to Jenny?" I stammered, my cock throbbing and eager, my fingers playing against one another before my skirts as I blushed. Hard. Georgette's eyes flashed.
"Something quite similar to what is about to happen to you. Your dress. Remove it." Her voice held no room for me to say no. My fingers went to my collar and I started to undo the buttons and ties, blushing and shivering as my dress started to slide off my shoulders. I wriggled and the dress puddled around my ankles, leaving me in my underclothes -- my petticoat (it was a real thing, and not just a fake made up word, which I had always assumed before wriggling into one) and my stockings. The bits of skin that were now exposed felt almost painfully sensitive, tingling in anticipation of what was about to happen.
Without the outer layer, my hardon was even more obvious.
Georgette sighed, then grabbed onto my chin from behind. She jerked my head backwards, drew me against her, her voice husky and harsh in my ears. "You do not simply allow your
dress
to crumple onto the floor, like some kind of animal..." She growled, her metal fingers caressing my skin, my throat as she spoke, and I whimpered.
"S-Sorry, mistress Proctor," I stammered.
"Sorry is not sufficient for a young lady that is so uncouth...but I suppose if you wish to be so uncouth and slovenly, I have no reason to treat you like a lady at all." Georgette shoved me forward, pressing me against the wall. My palms slapped against the wood and my cheek mashed up against the wood paneling as she grabbed onto my petticoat and yanked upwards, revealing my rump, my balls, my throbbingly hard cock. "What a whore you are, to be so aroused ..." She smacked my ass with her teak colored hand, her golden tresses tumbling around her head as she loomed above me.
The sting of it was almost less shocking than the noise -- harsh and loud. My eyes widened and I gasped, then felt the sting turn into a buzzing throb. Georgette put a hand on my shoulder, rooting me into place, then smacked my ass again. Her fingers didn't quite hit the same place -- and so, new flesh on my ass began to sting and tingle, while the part that had been smacked before
throbbed
. It hurt. But it felt...
good
. Pain traveled along my body and my nipples became puffy and hard and eager.
Smack!
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! "Little whore, absolutely disgraceful!" Georgette snarled. "Utterly unkempt..." Smack! My ass was
burning
now -- she was alternating palm and cheek, using the back, then the front of her hand, and each time, she left a new stinging palm print. My tingling crawled along my spine and each impact caused my body to rock forward -- and my achingly hard girldick was
