“No, Camellia, it does not. I am very disappointed that you would say something so condescending to anyone, let alone someone you claim as a friend.”
When Papa had instructed her to read the letter to him, Cammie knew she would be humiliated by the naughty things she shared with Cynny, but she felt utterly miserable at being mean and high handed with her friend. She missed everyone at Talcott House, even bossy Garland, but she had written to Cynny like she was beneath Cammie’s notice. She sniffled and ran to Papa, wrapping her arms around his waist. He relented and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close.
He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped away her tears. “Tell me why you are so sad, little Cammie.” His warm voice and caring touch made Cammie feel better and worse at the same time. Better because he made her feel loved and protected. Worse, because she realized what an ingrate she was and that she did not deserve a papa as wonderful as hers.
After a couple of ragged breaths, she told him. “Papa, I have been so fortunate in my marriage to you. You are better than I deserve and then to speak so atrociously to Cynny and, in a way, my other friends at Talcott House—Oh, Papa, I am the worst kind of hypocrite. And an even worse friend.” She buried her face in his shoulder and he rubbed her back, whispering calming words.
Once she had settled down, she looked up at him. “Papa, I need to make amends to Cynny.”
“Yes, I believe you do and I am proud of you for recognizing your poor behavior without me pointing it out. We shall discuss all of that later, but now there is the matter of reading the rest of your letter.” He set her back on her feet and gave her bottom a slap. “Back to your reading position.”
Cammie returned to her reading spot, determined to do as Papa instructed and to take any punishment he meted out without complaint. She wanted to be a better person. Truly she did. Papa would help her, she knew it.
Still, there was the matter of the humiliating letter. She cleared her throat and moved to the next paragraph. “Your curiosity about what happens between married men and women is understandable. I felt much the same way until my dear papa taught me so many exceptional and pleasurable activities.”
She looked up at Papa and smiled. He gave her a stern look and wound his finger in a circle to indicate that she was to get on with things.
“Have you had your special examination from Nurse Lister? I shall acknowledge I found the whole thing rather distressing and confusing until the very end when Miss Wickersham assisted in helping me to achieve my release.”
Cammie snuck a peek at Papa and he raised an eyebrow. “I may wish to hear more about that at a later time,” he said.
Cammie felt herself flush again, but warmth built in her kitty too. She found her voice and continued. “A release is another word for climax. A climax is the best feeling in the entire world and I hope your papa is able to give you many of them. It is hard to describe the exact sensation. It will build up—sort of like a kettle that is put on to boil—as the water heats up, the surface is sort of shimmery and quivery until a few bubbles break through. That’s how my skin feels, sort of prickly and tingly, then the bubbles get bigger and the water is covered with popping bubbles that keep getting hotter and hotter until the steam sets the kettle off in a blast of heat. And that is how your insides will feel as your climax builds up and up.”
“Is that true, little Cammie? Is a climax the most wonderful feeling in the entire world?”
“Yes, Papa,” she said, her voice catching with emotion. “You make me very happy.”
Papa smiled then, his first since entering her room. Some of the weight around Cammie’s heart lifted, but she still knew that the afternoon was far from over.
“And when it is over, your papa will wrap you in his arms and tell you what a good girl you are and you will drift off into the best sleep ever.”
She stole a glance at her papa. “That is true too,” she said, shyly.
“I like that part also, sweet Cammie.”
Cammie turned the page of the letter over to continue and as her eyes skimmed the first few words, a feeling of dread quickened in her. She looked to Papa again. “Do I really have to read this part?”
“Oh, yes, naughty girl. You absolutely have to read the next part.” Papa sat up straighter in his chair.
Cammie licked her lips and plunged forward. “Having a climax is so wonderful, you might be tempted to give yourself one when your papa is not around.” Cammie’s voice trailed off.
“I had trouble hearing that last sentence. Please repeat it.”
Cammie chewed her lip some more.
“I’m waiting.”
“Having a climax is so wonderful, you might be tempted to give yourself one when your papa is not around.” She glanced up and he nodded for her to continue. “To do that, you will need to touch your kitty with your fingers and at the very top is a little hard nubbin, that is your clitty. It is like the magic button for your release. Rub your fingers over it or maybe pinch it a bit and soon you will be like that kettle building up a big head of steam.”
“You seem to know a great deal about giving yourself a release, Cammie.”
Her bottom tingled. She had quite a punishment coming, there could be no doubt.
“I believe,” Papa said, “I should like for you to read the rest of the letter without any clothing. Please remove your nightgown.”
“Papa?”
“You heard me, Cammie. Do not pretend otherwise. Besides, the person who wrote this letter seems to have quite an extensive knowledge of the female body and therefore, has no reason to be shy.”
To her horror, Cammie felt her kitty heat up and a bit of moisture eased its way between her nether lips and onto her thighs. And now Papa would know it too. Moving slowly, though she knew there was no avoiding it, Cammie set the letter on her bed, then pulled the nightgown over her head and deposited it on the bed as well. She reached for the letter but Papa stopped her. “I would like,” he said, a naughty smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “a demonstration of that last bit you read.” Cammie gasped. “In fact, bring me the letter and I shall read it as you show me.”
With trembling fingers, Cammie retrieved the evil letter that had brought her nothing but problems, and slowly delivered it to her papa. When she moved as if to return to her reading spot, he halted her.
“It would please me,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire, “if you performed your part here, right in front of me.”
“Papa! I am too embarrassed. Please, Papa.”
“You ought to be embarrassed. Not only did you write a scandalous letter which revealed the most intimate details of our lives, but you confessed to doing something which I have explicitly told you not to do.”
“Oh,” Cammie said. She had not considered the fact that she had shared private information about Papa. What could have happened if someone other than Cynny had found the letter? Or if Lord Grayson had been an unscrupulous man?
Cammie had a feeling she would not be attending the theater that evening. Or if she did, it would be a most uncomfortable event being seated on a chafed backside for several hours.
Papa began reading. “... you will need to touch your kitty with your fingers and at the very top is a little hard nubbin, that is your clitty. It is like the magic button for your release. Rub your fingers over it or maybe pinch it a bit and soon you will be like that kettle building up a big head of steam.” When he finished reading, he looked up from the letter and watched as she touched herself.
Cammie did her best to follow along and repeat the actions described in the letter. Hearing him say those naughty words made her kitty especially wet and achy, so it was not difficult to want to give herself pleasure, though she was fraught with humiliation. When Papa finished reading, she stopped touching herself, expecting him to return the letter to her.