Chapter 8: Hard Lessons Begin

Before Netty knew what was happening she was married and watching Papa and Mr. Stent transfer all of her possessions into Mr. Stent’s wagon. The hugs and good bye’s to her little sisters were painful, but she did her best to not make it any worse. She told them she loved them, gave each a hug, and promised to write them once she was settled in at her new home. Mama gave her the most brief perfunctory farewell she could manage, then Papa hugged her and helped her into her seat.

Netty focused on keeping her tears inside as they bumped along the road that lead north towards Mr. Stent’s ( Josiah, she reminded herself) home. She didn’t try to talk to her new husband or so much as look at him over the hours. Everything felt very wrong sitting in that strange vehicle next to a man fifteen years her senior who had threatened not only her life but those of the people closest to her.

And to what end had he bothered with such a threat? What did it matter to him what they had been up to? She thought of the way he had looked at her over the fire and all the sideways glances here and there, thinking for the first time he may have made the threat as a way to get her away from Papa and Rand.

To get me to himself, she thought, her dislike for the man deepening until she reminded herself, Even so, Papa wouldn’t have sent me with him if he didn’t think it was for the best. He wants me to get better and he thinks Josiah can do it.

Netty gritted her teeth and decided to put Papa’s advice over her own bad mood.

“How far is it to your house, Mr. Stent?” Netty asked in the most conversational voice she could manage.

“About a day and a half drive from here, Mrs. Stent,” Josiah replied, adding a jovial lilt to the way he addressed her by her new title. “My land is three miles from the next town. We’re far enough from town to have peace and quiet, but near enough to get supplies whenever we need them. We will need to sleep on the trail tonight, but by early afternoon tomorrow we should be home.”

The thought of this place she had never been being home made her stomach sink.

“Do you keep any animals or a garden?” she asked to take her mind off her discomfort.

Josiah nodded. “There are some animals I keep for food, and there’s a cultivated plot and a smaller garden, but I don’t manage either endeavors. I’m not good with animal care and I can’t care for plants well enough to get any to grow, so I leave that to my stableman.”

Netty’s eyes grew large. “You’ve got a man to do all that work for you?”

“Oh yes!” Josiah said with a smile. “I do all my money-making by building and repairing guns, knives, farm tools, and other such things. Incredibly lucrative business out here where a man is about the only thing standing between his family, his property, and whatever outlaw wants to take it from him. You won’t see quite as much of me as you may have expected even with me usually working there on the property since I’m kept up to my ears in work, but I’m sure you’ll be glad of that.” He winked at her over the last part.

“I suppose the time alone will give me room to figure out how to be a proper housewife,” Netty pondered. “Mama always said I was hardly worth having underfoot when it came to keeping a house.”

“Don’t worry yourself about that, I’ve got a housekeeper who does all the cleaning and cooking, I visit the tailor in town to have my clothes made, and as yet I don’t have children who need taught,” Josiah said, “What I want you to focus on is self-improvement for your little problem.”

Finally the subject had risen. Netty’s nerves tingled at the reminder. “When will we be starting those lessons?”

“No time like the present. We’ve been going for a while and I’m sure the horses could use a rest,” Josiah replied, steering the horses to the side of the trail. Once they were parked and he had given the horses their water and feedbags he returned to Netty and had her follow him into the covered area of the wagon.

Inside was a cot, a few chests, some food and water, and Netty’s own few things. Josiah opened a chest and pulled out a drawstring bag and an odd looking corset which he handed to Netty.

“Put this on,” he ordered lightheartedly, taking a seat on the bed as if intent to watch.

Netty blushed, stammering, “We haven’t even had our wedding night yet! I can’t undress in front of you-”

“You had no such qualms of virtue when letting your own family molest you,” Josiah interrupted matter-of-factly. With a more teasing tone he said, “Now put it on, unless it would make you more comfortable to consummate our marriage first.”

Netty didn’t respond to his mocking. With her face on fire she unbuttoned her bodice and untied the skirt of her dress. She quickly tried to undo the strings of the corset she was already wearing only for her shaking fingers to tangle them. She was becoming flustered when Josiah gently turned her around and unlaced her himself. With her back to him she removed the garment and went to wrap the new one only to find part of it missing.

“Um…” she said, baffled. “There’s no bust in this corset.”

“I know,” Josiah answered. “It was made that way. It fits under your breasts instead of over them.”

Netty held the curved places of the corset under her bosom but felt so awkward to still be exposed. Again, Josiah reached forward, and within a minute she was tightly laced in. The sight of how the garment pushed her tiny breasts up and together gave her a shiver. It was the first time she could recall them looking anything like proper adult breasts. She reached for her dress only to find another one in its place. She peaked over her shoulder at Josiah who only nodded towards the dress, so she lifted it to put on only to find it was almost sheer.

“I can’t wear this, Mr. Stent; it’s see-through!” she protested. “What if we meet another person out here? They’ll be able to see right through my clothes!”

“This is part of your training, Netty, a lesson in humility. Put it on.”

Reminding herself that Papa wanted her to do as she was told, she put the dress on. Where the body of the corset and her petticoats covered her the fabric looked mostly like a normal dress. If someone wasn’t paying close attention, they would think it was just a light cream color, but if they happened to look further up they would have no trouble seeing her breasts jutting upwards with the force of the corset. Even the color of her nipples was on full display as the hardened peeks pushed against the thin tight fabric.

Josiah turner her to face him, and he took a long time appraising what he saw. As he stared in silence she began to feel her heartbeat throbbing between her legs. He reached forward and brushed his thumbs over the hard tips, studying how she shuddered and turned even more red.

“I need to understand things that trigger you, and help you to learn to control those triggers. Your father admitted to me that your chest is extremely sensitive and easily brings out your lecherous issues, so we will start there.”

Josiah cupped her chest in his hands and flicked his thumbs over the points methodically, one after the other, until she was panting. His serious face stared into hers as over and over he flicked the little points, eliciting little jolts with each touch until her legs shook. Only when she was shaking and had to hold his shoulders because her knees didn’t want to keep her up did he finally relent.

He reached under her petticoats and pulled her underwear down, then, one hand at her chest, Josiah ran his thick fingers along the soaked trench under her skirts. She couldn’t stop her hips grinding against his hand, a few quick motions bringing her rapidly near to orgasm before he snatched his hand away, leaving her to hump empty air.

She managed to open her eyes halfway and look at her husband through a haze as her hips bucked involuntarily.

Josiah gave a sigh. “The first step is learning self control, and you’re far far worse than I’d expected.” He  inspected his own hand, the evidence of her indecency dripping from his fingers. He held it in front of her face.

“Clean it off.”

When she looked about for a towel he elaborated, “With your mouth.”

“How…will that help?” she asked, the scent of herself on his fingers causing her fuzzy brain to bring back images of last night. Even with that fond memory, the thought of that fluid in her mouth turned her stomach.

“It will teach you that such a mess is unbecoming of a woman,” he answered in a good-natured tone. “You can either lick my hand clean, or take a different punishment.”

Netty was more than willing to take anything else, and immediately agreed. Josiah cleaned his hand on a rag, then opened the drawstring bag and produced two round metal hoops with little bars in the middle that connected to springs. “Wear these the rest of the day, and we will try again tonight to train you in self control.”

“Okay,” Netty mumbled, wary of the deal.

Josiah pulled the bars of one hoop apart with the springs, fitted it over one nipple, and gently released the springs so the bars pressed snugly against the little protrusion. With the little clamps her nipples were pushed far away from her chest into lurid points. If before she had been scandalized to think of anyone seeing her in the sheer dress she was now downright mortified. At least before she could have hoped for the points to lay flat if she weren’t excited, but now not only were they forced out hard and attention-seeking but the clamps themselves were perfectly visible.

Without preamble Josiah buttoned her up and declared he was ready to eat. They sat in the shade under the wagon’s covering to eat, though Netty could hardly focus on food for the torturous throbbing between her legs.

“Why are you sitting like that?” Josiah asked, gesturing to how Netty was sitting with her legs a bit apart.

“Um… if I- if I close them… um,” Netty tripped over her words, face reddening again.

“Out with it,” Josiah commanded, not unkindly, but his voice left no room for disobedience.

Netty stared at her shoes as she forced out the words. “I’m worried if I close my legs too tightly the pressure will make me climax.”

Josiah studied her from his seat on the bed with a bemused expression. “That is serious, considering you’re trying to curb such desires, but you must learn to function as a normal person as though those desires we not there. You must keep your knees together, and that is that.”

Her face was a stricken mask of discomfort as she put her knees together as lightly as she could. Josiah watched her, could clearly tell she was doing the bare minimum, but didn’t say anything.  He waited until they were getting ready to go again to bring out a long thin length of rope.

“Lift your skirts for me, please,” Josiah requested in a tone as if asking her to hold open a door.

Slowly she did as he asked, and he tied her legs tightly together at the knees. Immediately the pressure on her clit heightened so that the throb pulsed in her entire body, a groan escaping before she could stop it.

“You will soon learn to do what I command in the proper way on your own, or I will make sure you do it in a much less comfortable manner,” Josiah said conversationally. “I want you to hold your legs together so that you can learn to control your lust when it is at its worst, and so you shall.”

When he was done he had tied her legs from hip to knee tightly, and any movement up or down caused the achy hard nub to rub between her own thighs. She had to remain perfectly still and focus all her attention on how uncomfortable the rope was or she would cum right there. He left her gasping on the bench seat as he hitched the horses, and by the time he was in the seat next to her she had managed to calm herself a few steps back from the edge of tipping over. When the horses lurched forward the jostling rubbed her against herself, bringing the arousal up again. Each pitching motion vibrated up the seat and into her flesh maddeningly. She focused as hard as she could on breathing and ignoring that ache until at last it was dispersed into a low roar.

“It’s better now,” she said in relief.

“Good, I’m glad you’re learning to control it,” Josiah praised. He laid an arm across her shoulders, draping it down so that the tips of his fingers dangled dangerously close to her protruding breast. “Now we will work on endurance.”

His fingers lightly bumped over her trapped nipple, straining against the tight bodice. Her spine arched into the touch and her hips bucked, clit rubbing between her wet thighs. He tried to pull his fingers back and she grabbed for his hand before she could stop herself. In punishment he tied her arms behind her back, feeding the end of the rope between the bench’s seat and back, and securing it to the seat leg so that she was tightly pulled backwards and could not move forward at all.  This done, he took up the reins again in one hand to drive, while with the other he lightly teased her chest.

“I-I-I’m g-g-g-g-gonn-na cum,” she muttered, brain barely capable of working her lips enough to get the jumbled words out.

Josiah’s fingers stopped the gentle teasing, and a moment later she felt the sharp pain of a horribly hard pinch to the side of her breast. She shrieked in pain and tried to twist away from it but the rope held her firmly in place and he continued to pinch her sensitive skin and twisted it hard.

“STOP!” she screamed, thrashing, and thankfully he let go.

“It was only to help you not climax,” Josiah said. “You were far too close to have stopped otherwise. Very good of you to let me know so that I could help you abstain from it.”

Even with the pain still fresh in her bruising skin a weird warmth fluttered in her chest at the praise. It reminded her of the many times Papa had praised her during their stolen trysts. To her surprise, she found that indeed she was no longer on the brink of orgasm. In fact she was nearly as far from it as she’d been before they stopped for lunch.

“Th-thank you,” she muttered quietly, not looking at him.

Several minutes later, Josiah again reached over her shoulder to toy with her chest. Soon his tugging and rolling fingers brought her arousal back up, and within a few minutes she was getting closer to what promised to be a mind-shattering orgasm. She considered letting it take her, not voicing how close she was, taking that bliss for herself, but then Papa’s plea for her to get better came back to her.

“C-c-c-lose,” she gasped, eyes rolling up in the first wave of orgasm reaching towards her.

Again, the awful twisting pinch came again. She screamed, trying to bite back the sound and focus. Josiah was no more merciful than before. He pinched hard and long, twisting her skin into a bruise until all the desire for an orgasm was thoroughly wrung out of her. Tears dripped from her chin and onto his hand before he let go.

No more than a minute passed and his fingers were tugging at her nipple again as if he would coax her soul out through it. She noted the skill his fingers had at the task. Josiah seemed as if he had trained long and well in the subject and didn’t have any trouble at all getting the response he wanted. This time the rising crest of pleasure was so strong she couldn’t speak. Her head drooped backwards, muscles taut and shivering in anticipation of unimaginable relief. A vision of Papa helper her try to make a noise that sounded more like a mew, but was enough to return the awful pinch.

“Such a good girl,” Josiah praised, immediately returning to the nerve-wracking teasing as she slumped in the seat. “You’re doing so well to keep telling me when you’re close so I can help you deny those devilish desires.”

The praise gave her over-wrought brain a somewhat twisted glee. It gave her just a bit more ability to keep going. All that afternoon Josiah alternated teasing her nipples to the brink of what she could withstand, then savagely pinching to draw her back to the starting point. The sides of her pale breasts were marred with dark bruises while her nipples stood out long and red from the unforgiving attention. She was barely thinking of anything but how good it would feel to finally cum. She wasn’t able to speak at all, only her body language, which was far beyond her control by then, conveyed to Josiah when she was about to tip over. With each orgasm he snatched away from her he lavished her with praise for enduring so much and being such a good girl. Somewhere in her addled state the praise began to be it’s own sort of pleasure, or at least it eased the torment enough to be bearable.

At some point in the afternoon he had untied her legs as a reward for holding back so many times, and instead tied a short bar between her knees to keep her from rubbing her legs together to cause the friction needed to orgasm. With her legs spread open he found he could play with her for far longer and keep her on the very brink of an orgasm for minutes on end without her being able to tip over. She had to have some sort of pressure or friction between her legs to cum, and he took full advantage of that need.

In the late afternoon they made camp under a large shady tree. She was a shaking soping wet mess as Josiah untied her numb arms and legs. Her nipples ached from so much activity and the rings clamped around them. Everything between her legs was flowing with wetness and throbbed painfully. She washed her flaming nethers in the cold water of the stream, changed into clean undergarments, and gathered firewood while Josiah tended the horses and unpacked food.