Miss Summers' School (Lessons in Submission Book 1)

by Maggie Ryan

  "That may be, but this girl is not of your class. I assure you that your intention of marriage is not necessary to keep your promise. Place her in the school until you decide if she can be trusted to join your household staff. Perhaps you'll find she is better suited to be a governess, or perhaps a nanny. The other girls seem to look up to her. I think—"

  "I think you are all deaf," Alexandria shouted, slapping her own hand on the rail in front of her. "I have no intention of returning to school, and I most certainly will not be forced into marriage!"

  Max grinned and looked towards her. Her eyes were flashing as if she was furious that she'd been silent for even a brief moment. He wasn't the least bit surprised when she stomped her foot and spoke again.

  "I don't care what you decide! I am not some horse that you are considering purchasing! I can..."

  "Can what, Miss Bannister?" the judge asked sternly. "Tell me, please, what can you do to support yourself? What skills do you possess that will keep you fed? Your manners are atrocious, your character questionable..."

  "My manners! My character!" She lifted her chin, her eyes turning a dark blue as her defiance continued. "Well, pardon me, gentlemen, if you find me so... so revolting. I'm sure there are plenty of men who—"

  "Don't finish that statement, young lady," Max warned, in a tone that froze her speech. "The only place for a harlot is in her husband's bedchamber. You've been instructed to remain silent by myself, as well as Judge Deardon. Unless you wish to feel my hand against your bottom, I suggest you obey."

  "You wouldn't dare!" Alexandria gasped, her hands moving behind her as if to make sure her bottom was quite safe. "You have no right to speak—"

  "I have every right, Miss Bannister," Max assured her, ignoring the others as he focused all his attention on the girl. "Your father gave me the right to speak to, or to spank you. Now, which is it to be, child?"

  "I'm not a child! I'm eighteen…"

  "And yet you refused to admit to your majority for months. Months, mind you, in which you could have begun the life you suggested. Your lack of, shall we say, dedication to your trade speaks of your preference to remain a child."

  "I—that's preposterous! I simply wished to remain a chi—I mean, remain with the other girls."

  Max sighed heavily as he shook his head. "Miss Bannister, the fact remains that your honesty is now in question. Adults do not conduct themselves in such a manner, most especially not in the middle of a court of law. You're a disrespectful little girl who lies, curses, interrupts adults, and throws tantrums. Your need for guidance has already been proven by your choices. I assure you that, while I abhor dishonesty, in this instance, your decision to remain at the orphanage is the only thing that is going to save you. However, open your mouth again and you'll find out exactly what happens to naughty little ones."

  Alexandria appeared not to have heard a word he said. Instead of closing her mouth, she screeched, "My father would never—"

  With a single step forward, Max had the small door of the box open, the girl's arm in his grip, and easily pulled her to him. Ignoring her squeals of protest, he turned and bent her over the rail and slapped his hand hard against her backside. Her accompanying scream was even louder as he continued to swat her bottom, his hand able to completely cover first one buttock and then the other, easily capturing both her hands in one of his as she fought.

  "Your father would've thrashed you the moment you opened your mouth to spew vulgarity, Alexandria. Your spanking will stop when you stop screeching and behaving like a banshee," he calmly informed her, his hand swatting down again. "You'll find I'm a man of my word, and, little one, my word is your new absolute law."

  The Judge, his clerk, and Peter watched, all shaking their heads but none interrupting the scene. After another dozen swats, the girl's screeches ended and her pleas began.

  "Please stop, no... no more. Ow, please, it hurts!"

  Max pulled her up and turned her to face him. "Spankings are meant to hurt, young lady. It would be a waste of time and energy if they did not. Tell me, are you ready to behave? Are you quite ready to make your apology to the court like a good girl?"

  Her answer was to scream, "You can bloody well go to hell! Let me go!" Alexandria had obviously found the energy to begin her fight anew. Kicking out, she connected with his shin. She pulled desperately against his hold when he easily turned her around and bent her over the rail once again, her hands reaching out to grab the opposite rail in an attempt to keep herself from falling down into the box, her feet no longer reaching the floor behind her. Her hair was the only part of her that was free to do what it would, coming free of its hood, the loose braid unraveling, the strands whipping about and becoming tangled with her efforts.

  "I'll take that as a no," Max said with another sigh. "Remember, you were given every chance to end your punishment, little one." With that, he raked her cloak and thin shift up onto her back. When his fingers hooked into the waistband of her bloomers, Alexandria twisted and bucked but was not capable of stopping him from pulling the thin fabric down until her bottom was bared.

  "Wait! No!" she screamed once more, as his hand returned to crack again and again against her pale bottom.

  Within seconds it had turned a dark pink, and was moving towards crimson by the time she finally submitted. Max felt the fight leaving her body as she stopped kicking, her head dropping in submission.

  "I'm sorry! Please... oh, please, stop."

  He gave her another three swats, all lifting her small red cheeks as they landed against the crease where her bottom met her thighs. Each swat drew a soft cry, but all fight had left the girl. Pulling her to stand, Max turned her to face him, her tear streaked face causing his heart to melt. "Shh, it's over, little one." He pulled her to him, and his heart stuttered as she pressed her face against his chest, her small hands gripping her bottom, rubbing furiously in an effort to relieve the heat he'd placed there. He knew he shouldn't allow any modicum of relief, and yet adored the picture she made. Forcing his eyes away from her backside, he asked again. "Are you ready to apologize?"

  When she didn't answer, he set her away from him, though all he truly wanted was to wrap her in his arms, lift her up and carry her away. His desires would have to wait. She needed to understand from the very beginning that she would always need to follow his instructions.

  "Alexandria, look at me," he said softly, helping her to obey by lifting her chin with his fingertips. "You were a naughty girl and got a spanking. If you don't wish for another, you'll make your apology." Her eyes resembled the ocean even more now they were filled with tears, the color deepening into an almost purple hue. Max bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, the feel of her skin against his lips making the need to possess her burn into his soul. "Your father told me you could be stubborn but, little one, he also told me how you always made him proud. Show me he wasn't wrong. Show me you can do this."

  Chapter Three

  Alexandria's world was spinning as she stood in the arms of a man she didn't know. How had this happened? Why did she feel like her stomach was full of butterflies, and why was her body so hot—not just her bottom; her entire body was flushed and tingling as one arm held her close, one hand gently holding her chin. Who was he that he believed he had the right to bare her bottom and set it afire? She'd never been spanked so thoroughly, not even by her father. And what did he mean that her father had given him that right? How did he know her father? When his eyes began to lose their look of sympathy, she realized that he meant what he had said. If she didn't want to be bent across the rail again and have his hand returning to punish her aching backside, she must obey his order. Deciding to think about the reasoning later, she took the safest path and nodded.

  "Good girl, though you need to say your answers aloud," the man said.

  Briefly considering that speaking had been what had caused this humiliation, Alexandria's eyes began to flash again. However, when he turned her from him to face the room and she remembered the
other men, her face heated and her need to argue evaporated.

  "I'm sorry," she said softly.

  At the men's nod, she was addressed again by the one who had spanked her. "You are forgiven." He opened the door to the box and gestured for her to enter.

  She moved to do so and then stumbled. Even as he reached out to take her arm, she was bending to pull up her drawers, which were tangled about her ankles.

  "Leave them. It will make it more convenient if I have to take you from the box again to spank your bottom."

  She blushed hotly but shuffled into the box. When he turned her to face away from the court, she didn't understand why, but was grateful. At least she'd not have to look at the three men who seemed to be in total agreement that she had deserved the spanking. With a last look up to find the man watching her closely, she dropped her gaze as he closed the door.

  "Lift the back of your clothing to your waist. You'll stand with your red bottom on display to remind you that it's naughty to interrupt and throw tantrums."

  "What? Why? I-I never..."

  "Because you were instructed to do so."

  His answer had her body stiffening, and she wished looks could really kill—for he'd surely be dead from the daggers she was attempting to direct his way. The position reminded her of one from her youth, but that had always involved facing a corner or a wall. However, she'd never before been made to display her bottom, and the thought of doing so had her quivering.

  "Do you need me to pin your skirts up, Alexandria? Of course, if I do, it will be after freshening the color of your backside." When he began to open the door, she gave a soft whimper but grasped the back of her clothing and lifted it to her waist, her cheeks heating to rival the color of her buttocks.

  "Good girl."

  Her heart stuttered as he bent forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. The gentleness of the gesture confused her, and made her feel…

  "Little ones who get spanked need to learn that naughtiness will always be brought to light, and that red bottoms will be displayed as evidence of the lesson received. You are to remain exactly in this position while the matter of your future is settled."

  Alexandria's heart stopped stuttering at his words. She looked up, but her glare was pointless as he'd already moved to address the other men as if his duty had been done, the naughty girl attended to and now sure to keep quiet. She turned around, her foot stomping once in indignation. How dare this ogre treat her like a two-year-old? Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard him speak.

  "Excuse the interruption, your Honor. You were saying?"

  Judge Deardon simply shook his head. "I was saying that you appear quite prepared to take Miss Bannister in hand." He chuckled as he looked at the girl, her bottom glowing like a beacon. "I'll repeat that it isn't necessary to wed the girl, but if that is your wish, I will prepare the license today. Of course, such a special license requires a higher fee… but it does give you the freedom to sign the document when and if you decide to do so, Lord Hollister."

  "You... you are Lord Hollister?"

  The men turned to see that Alexandria had turned around in the box and was staring at them.

  "Turn around, you haven't been released," Max said sternly.

  "No, wait!"

  "Turn around now, unless you wish to feel my hand across your backside again."

  When she turned around, her feet once more tangling in her drawers, she wanted to scream.

  "Clothing up, Alexandria."

  With a growl, she yanked her skirts up and begin thinking of different scenarios starring this monster, all of which included him squirming in agony. Alexandria's thoughts of agony had her thinking of her bottom and how much it burned.

  So this was Lord Hollister. The name was one she knew, and yet he was nothing like she had imagined from her father's letters. She'd always pictured an old man, stooped and fatigued from the battles he'd experienced. Instead, this was the tallest man she'd ever met. His hair was black as coal, and his eyes... they were green flecked with gold, the colors bringing forth an image of the first blades of grass in the spring, kissed by the sun's rays. His hands were huge, his fingers long with neatly trimmed nails. He might be a man of title, not required to use his hands to make a living, yet they were not soft. No, they had been hard as iron when they'd landed against her bottom. And yet, they'd also been gentle as they pulled her to his chest after spanking her. The light brush of his lips had made her heart jump in her chest. Oh God, what was she to do? She felt torn between wanting to beg him to tell her of her father, and wishing him straight to a hell where his body would burn as hot as her bottom!

  Hearing the murmur of voices, she momentarily abandoned her attempt to understand her feelings as she strained to hear what they were saying. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, she saw Lord Hollister at the bench. It sounded as if he and the judge were discussing some sort of paperwork. The judge asked Mr. Jones if he had the necessary license, and she watched as the man dug through the papers overflowing from his satchel. She took a tiny step backwards in an attempt to better hear, but even that slight movement caused Lord Hollister's head to turn towards her. The moment his eyes met hers, she whipped around.

  Her head dropped, her bottom clenching at being caught out of position. Would he see fit to spank her again? And if he did, would he then hold her close, soothing her and telling her she was forgiven? Shocked at the direction her mind was going, refusing to think of the first comforting embrace she'd felt in a year, she forced herself to remember the arrogance of the man.

  Her heart was pounding, the beating too loud to allow her to hear the quiet conversation behind her. What were they saying? Was a license required to put her into a workhouse? Had they decided that her small fib about her age made her too untrustworthy to go into service? She didn't mind working hard, but the stories of what happened to women without someone to protect them had her blood going cold. She hadn't meant to say she'd be able to make a living on her back—it was simply that Mr. Mueller had threatened to—no! Surely, the man her father had written about, the one he'd obviously given permission to tend to his only child, would never allow something so unthinkable to happen… no matter if she had been naughty. He hadn't meant that statement... he didn't think she was a harlot—right?

  Behind her, Mr. Jones had finally found the proper form and passed it over. Max watched as Judge Deardon completed the necessary information and then looked up at him.

  "Your signature and mine are all that are required, but again, let me say that I hope you don't come to regret this."

  Max didn't blink as he scrawled his name across the bottom of the page. "Life is very bland without a bit of spice. I'd think you would be the first to offer your congratulations, Jacob."

  The Judge signed it as well and chuckled. "Oh, I do, Max, but don't blame me when you have heartburn."

  Max grinned. "I'll leave you to finish the details with Mr. Dodgers. I'm sure my wife would appreciate the opportunity to refresh herself before we take our leave." They all glanced again at the box to see the tangled mass of her hair whipping around yet again.

  Max's grin widened. "It doesn't appear as though she understands she is to be considering her own behavior, and not others'. It's obvious the quicker I get her enrolled in her new school, the faster she will learn how to behave as expected." Turning again, he withdrew his wallet and passed a large sheaf of notes to Peter. "We shall be waiting in the carriage." Without waiting for a response, he walked to the box and opened the small door. "You may come out of your naughty box now, Alexandria."

  She stepped out, her eyes still flashing despite the spanking she had received. "It's not a 'naughty' box!" she hissed.

  "It is today, and I suggest you watch it, young lady," Max said softly. "I promise you can't strike me dead with your gaze unless you are a descendent of Medusa." He reached out and took a strand of her hair between his fingers, drawing it towards him. "And I promise that you are far too lovely to be of such a
bloodline. Now, if you are ready, you may pull up your drawers. There is no need to advertise the fact that your bottom is as red as your hair—unless, of course, you choose to continue to be disrespectful." He released her hair and looked down at her. "Is that your choice, Lexie? Is your wish to prove your spirit so strong that you wish to leave here with your skirts at your waist and your bloomers at your ankles?"

  Gasping, Alexandria immediately shook her head. God, how could she have forgotten the state of her clothing? "No, I-I don't. I'm sorry."

  "Oh, I doubt that you are," Max countered with a smile. "But Alexandria, I promise you will learn I mean business. I have no doubt of your strength, you are your father's daughter after all. If he were able, he could tell you that I am just as stubborn. Go ahead and cover yourself, though I must admit I fear it won't be long before you are bared again."

  She felt her stomach flutter at the look in his eyes. He spoke so softly she knew his words could only reach her ears. Who was this man? How could he appear so at ease; not only conversing in a stern manner that brooked no nonsense, yet also able to speak in an almost teasing tone? He'd spanked her, but comforted her as well. Why did he act as if spanking her would be something he'd do quite often?

  How did he know that her father had called her Lexie? Her heart clutched as she thought of the man she had adored but lost, and she tore her eyes from this stranger's. Bending, she tugged her drawers up and prayed he didn't notice her trembling fingers as she tied the ribbon at her waist. Her hands smoothed the back of her thin cloak over her tender backside. When her hand was taken, she gave a slight tug as if to test what would happen, but stilled when he simply tightened his grip and shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. The memory of what that hand could do had her walking beside him as he led her towards a future she had never imagined.

  *****

  Max led her to the water closet. "You may refresh yourself if you wish." When her cheeks flushed but her eyes darted about the room once he opened the door, he chuckled. "I'll be waiting, Lexie. I suggest you don't waste time. I assure you that even if you do somehow manage to escape through the window, I will find you. And you know what will happen if you make that choice, don't you?"