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The Marquess and the Millennial by Viola Ain

Marquess and the MillennialWhen spoiled college girl Meg Wilson grows tired of pre-med classes that are ruining her social life, she makes a fateful wish. To her shock, she gets what she asked for—though not in the way she would have hoped—and is thrown back in time and into the life of another woman, the new bride of an aristocrat in Victorian-era England.

It doesn’t take long for Cyril Heathgrove—the man who is Meg’s husband in this very different reality—to tire of her rude, unladylike behavior and insistence that she is not his wife. To provide the constant supervision and firm-handed discipline that she requires, Cyril calls upon the aid of Miss Pritchett, a stern, no-nonsense governess who knows exactly how to handle recalcitrant young ladies.

Miss Pritchett wastes no time in taking control of Meg. Before she knows it, the sassy millennial has been stripped bare, spanked soundly, bathed thoroughly, and dressed like a child. But Meg’s humiliation is only beginning, and she soon learns that she will be sent back to the nursery until Cyril and Miss Pritchett are convinced that she can behave like a proper wife. Miss Pritchett is adept at using shame as a tool to teach obedience, and Meg quickly discovers that a bare-bottom spanking is not the only way to punish a little girl who has been naughty.

Though Meg is mortified by such treatment, she is surprised to find that being dominated so completely leaves her intensely aroused, and when Cyril takes her in his arms she delights in the pleasure of his skillful lovemaking. Soon she is calling him daddy and flourishing in her role as his little girl, but what if the opportunity arises to return to her own time? Will she leave behind the man she has grown to love?

Publisher’s Note: The Marquess and the Millennial includes spankings, sexual scenes, age play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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Author: Viola Ain

eBook Price: $3.95

Length: 36,900 Words

Excerpt

“Stand still.” Her tone was cold and commanding, and even angry Meg quailed. The naughty miss actually obeyed as Miss Pritchett retreated to the tiny kitchenette adjoining the schoolroom. She took out one of her favorite tools, an item she had planned to save for later. After this morning’s appalling performance, however, it was clear that more powerful measures were needed.

Miss Pritchett carefully peeled the skin of the ginger root, cutting away a generous finger and making sure to leave a thick, rounded top to one end. The pungent juices would enter the naughty little girl and teach her not to fight back. The combination of ginger and birching would leave even the most headstrong girl sobbing for relief. Best of all, Miss Pritchett could present a completely contrite, broken-down, and obedient charge to the master of the house.

When Miss Pritchett returned to the schoolroom, Meg lifted her head and gave a piteous moan. “What is that? What are you going to do? Please don’t…”

Miss Pritchett ignored the silly chatter. “We seem to have a misunderstanding, dear.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm on the last word. “Apparently, a good old-fashioned touch of the birch has not been sufficient to tame your sinful nature. We shall have to tame you from within. Spread your legs, and be quick about it.”

Meg paled, gulping and grasping the edge of the desk with white-knuckled hands. “I want to go home.” Her voice caught, and a tear shone in her left eye.

Much gratified at the response, Miss Pritchett stepped forward and applied a brisk hand spank across the upturned bottom. “Face forward, feet apart, and lean over as far as you can. You do not want me to repeat my order.”

When Meg sniveled without moving, Miss Pritchett picked up the birch. “I did warn you, dear.” She striped each cheek with relish until Meg, screaming with pain, doubled over and stretched her feet apart as far as they would go.

“Stop! Please, stop!”

Pleased, Miss Pritchett grasped the throbbing, reddened backside and thrust the moist root deep into Meg’s bottom hole. When Meg cried out and clenched in an effort to expel the foreign object, Miss Pritchett threatened another dose of the birch. With more tears and high-pitched whimpers, the naughty girl held still until Miss Pritchett forced the ginger root in as far as it would go.

“Take it out!”

When Meg’s formerly strident shout switched to a subdued, tearful pleading, Miss Pritchett smiled at last. If a single insertion of ginger caused this dramatic of a change in attitude, clearly she was on the right track. She would have to talk with Lord Heathgrove about his misguided desire for leniency. Clearly, this naughty miss needed good, firm, old-fashioned discipline, and Helen Pritchett was the woman to give it.

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