Ready To Obey

by Melinda Barron

  Maisie stumbled to the kitchen and, instead of sitting in a chair, lay down on the floor. She closed her eyes and grabbed her stomach. “What was I thinking?” she asked herself. When Elvin had died she’d done this exact same thing, and swore it would never happen again.

  Yet here she was, feeling as if her insides were going to pop out of her body at any moment.

  “You’re not going to die, you know, and all those moans won’t make you feel better.” Aldis’s voice sounded so far away. “Give me a moment.”

  She heard him moving about, but she couldn’t see anything because she had her eyes squeezed shut so tight. A moan escaped her mouth.

  “I’m almost ready,” he said.

  Ready for what, she wanted to ask. Instead of speaking, though, she tried to sit up. The room spun as she did, and she found herself sitting, grasping a chair for support. Before she could tumble back down he grasped her and pulled her into his arms. He handed her something with a sharp odor to hold, and then he picked her up.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as they started to move.

  “To your room,” he said. They started down the stairs and she prayed she kept what was left of her stomach contents inside her. She put her head on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “You’ve had a busy few days, so having a few pints isn’t that bad,” he responded. “But given your reaction to the alcohol, I would think you should avoid it in future.”

  “Definitely.” They were in her room now and he placed her on the bed. She collapsed, and when he stroked her forehead she sighed.

  “I’ve brought some bread for you to eat, to help settle your stomach,” he said. “And I have a tonic. I’m going to mix it with water and you’re going to drink it before I leave.”

  She heard him move about, and then there was a cup in front of her face. “Drink it all.”

  Maisie sat up and took a sip. “Oh, that’s awful,” she said.

  “Drink it all,” he said.

  “No.” She pushed it away.

  “Drink it or face the consequences. If you don’t drink it you’ll feel much worse tomorrow morning. Trust me on that.”

  Now was not the time to ask how he knew the information. With the hope he was right, she took the cup and drained it in one swift motion.

  “It might make me vomit again,” she said.

  “Keep it down,” he said. “Now, lay down and go to sleep. I’m sure Mrs. Beale will be here in the morning to check on you.”

  “Hmm,” Maisie managed to say. And then everything turned black.

  The next morning she felt much better than she thought she should, given the events of the previous night. She needed to remember to find Aldis—no, Mr. Cummings—and thank him for whatever it was that he’d given her the previous evening. It had worked wonders.

  She was still in bed, though, when she heard footsteps in the corridor. She lifted her head, ready to greet Mrs. Beale. Instead, the imposing figure of Mr. Cummings filled the doorway.

  “I trust you’re feeling better,” he said.

  “I am,” she replied. “Thank you. I’m a little embarrassed.”

  “Just a little?” he asked with a tinge of humor.

  “That’s not a nice thing to say,” she replied.

  “I’ve come to tell you I spoke with Megan. She insists that you’re a liar.”

  “Of course she does,” Maisie said. She put her hand on her forehead.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” she said.

  “I believe you,” he replied.

  “She also swears that she knows nothing about where Vanessa is,” he said.

  Maisie closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Are you listening? Last night you were adamant about taking part in the search for her.”

  Maisie opened her eyes wide enough to look at where he still stood in the doorway.

  “I want to find her,” she said as she closed her eyes once more. “Throckmorton made threats against us both.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  She didn’t sit up and she heard him sigh heavily. “You need to be paying attention I would think you felt well enough today to express a little more gratitude,” he said.

  “My head still hurts,” she said. “When I’m better I’ll get down on my knees and kiss your boots.”

  “My boots? If you’re on your knees, there are other things you can kiss that I would enjoy much more than having your lips on my boots.”

  Maisie opened her eyes and looked up at him. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I think you’re smart enough, and experienced enough to figure that out, he said. “If you would be so kind as to get up and dressed. They are holding a lunch tray for you.”

  “Lunch?” She sat up suddenly, before wooziness forced her to lay back down.

  “Get up, clean up, eat and then come to my office.”

  “But my sewing,” she said.

  “It can wait.”

  After a few moments, Maisie got up and did her ablutions. She sat on the side of the bed, fighting sickness, then thought that maybe putting food in her stomach would help. She struggled up the stairs and found a tray of bread, soup and tea on the table. Megan was nowhere to be seen.

  Maisie ate slowly, and found that she felt a little stronger after the food was in her belly. She drank two cups of tea, and then made her way to Mr. Cummings’s office.

  “Better?” he asked when she knocked. He didn’t even look up.

  “Yes, thank you,” she said.

  “Good. Have a seat, please.”

  Somehow the chair she now sat in had become hers. He continued to work, dipping his quill in ink and writing furiously as she watched him. She thought back to his comment this morning about her being on her knees. What did he mean by that? Stop being stupid, she said to herself. You know exactly what he meant.

  If she were truthful with herself, she would admit that she found herself more than a little attracted to him last night. If he had tried to kiss her she probably would have let him.

  The kiss would have complicated matters that were already very complicated. She tried to remember what it felt like to be held by a man. Much like it felt last night when you rode behind him on the horse, she thought. His arms might not have been around you but his strong back had been pressed to your breasts, and the wonderful scent had teased you. If you had not been intoxicated things might have been different.

  No, she thought, they wouldn’t have. He had not made any kind of advance toward her, and if she hadn’t been in her cups she wouldn’t have made one on him. She hadn’t done it even though she’d been drunk.

  “What have you learned this morning?” she asked. It seemed like the safest course to take, so that she didn’t further embarrass herself.

  “There is a party at a house in Morton-on-Mare,” he said. “I have spoken with a friend of mine in town, who knows the person hosting the event. He is seeking an invitation for me.”

  “You mean for us,” she countered.

  “This is not the type of party you would enjoy, Mrs. Glover,” he said. “You will stay here while I search for Vanessa.”

  Maisie had started to shake her head even before he’d finished his sentence. “I have a stake in this now. Not only am I promised a ticket to America, plus a thousand pounds, but last night Mr. Throckmorton threatened us, the both of us, with prison. I will not stay here and wait to see if he is going to follow through on his threat.”

  He put down his quill and clasped his hands on his desk. “I appreciate your concerns, but this will not be a pleasant party for you. You are upset about the things we teach the ladies here, but that is exactly what would be happening at the party. You would be expected to take part.”

  “I would find a way out of it,” she said.

  His laughter made her angry.

  “I would!” she said.

  “Remember this morning when I said you could find things to do on your knees that would b
e better than kissing my boots?”

  Was he a mind reader? Had he somehow known that she was thinking just that while he was sitting there working?

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Let me put this quite plainly, Mrs. Glover.” He stared at her, and she swallowed hard under his assessment. “These parties are orgies, and the ladies who attend enjoy them just as much as the men. To put it quite bluntly they are fucked, and they suck, and they are spanked, and they have things stuck up their bums while men and women play with their quims. You will not be attending.”

  While his words shocked her, she was frightened to stay here without him with the threat of the barrister so close.

  “We can rent a room in town and I can stay there while you go to the house,” she said.

  “Not to anger you, Mrs. Glover, but I don’t really trust you,” he said. “You are quite headstrong, and the men who attend these types of parties would take it as an invitation to punish you. Have you ever stood in the corner? Have you ever been spanked? Have you ever been in front of a group of strangers, naked, while being flogged?”

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “No, you haven’t.” He had sounded angry earlier, but his tone was not as stern now. “You will stay here.”

  “You have a week to teach me,” she said.

  He had turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. Now he stared up at her. “Excuse me?”

  “You could teach me,” she repeated. “I can learn to stand in the corner. I can learn to take a spanking. How hard can it be?”

  She thought back to the night when Vanessa had been cropped. She wasn’t sure she could take that.

  “Very well. Let’s test your words, shall we? I will take you over my knee and spank your bare bottom. Right now.”

  She didn’t respond, and his next words made her heart seize. “Come across my knee, Mrs. Glover.”

  He hadn’t even started the spanking and she had already started to cry.

  “Could she do this? Or should she trust him to go to Morton-on-Mare and search for Vanessa, and the missing object, on his own? She knew she couldn’t do that. There was too much at stake for her to remain passive.

  “Are you going to obey?”

  “Do I have a choice?” she asked.

  “Not if you want to attend the party,” he replied. “If I take you and you can’t participate, they will become suspicious. It will be hard enough for my friend to get me an invitation when I don’t know the people hosting the event.”

  Resigned to her fate, Maisie moved toward him.

  “This side,” he said, pointing to his right. She stood where he’d indicated. When she was in place he said, “Lower yourself over my lap.”

  When she was in place she closed her eyes to brace herself for what was about to happen. He gathered her skirts and lifted them over her hips. Then he tugged her pantalets down to bare her bottom.

  She hadn’t been naked in front of a man since Elvin died, and she wanted to get up and run for the door. Remember the ticket, her mind said, remember the money, remember the threat of prison.

  His first touch was not a swat, but a caress.

  “We need to come to an understanding, Mrs. Glover,” he said.

  The utter embarrassment at being over his knee, with her bare bum under his hand, stilled her voice.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “If you want to take part in this, you need to know that the ladies are submissive to the men,” he said. “You will wear a black lace collar, which will identify you as my sexual servant. But if another man wants to play with you, it would be in my purview to allow it. How could you handle that, Mrs. Glover?”

  “Truthfully, I don’t know,” she said. “I would hope that I would recognize the seriousness of the situation and control myself.”

  “We shall see,” he said.

  Maisie thought she was doing very good just being across his lap with her bum bare.

  The first smack landed, and the loud noise filled his relatively small office.

  Maisie bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  He smacked her bottom three more times.

  “Can you do it, Mrs. Glover?” He landed two more swats on each cheek.

  Maisie groaned.

  “Answer me!” He swatted her three more times.

  “I understand,” she said.

  “Tell me what you understand.” Three more swats on each cheek.

  Her bum started to ache, the burn seeping into her skin.

  “If I attend the party I have to obey you, and there will be—sex—involved,” she said.

  He swatted her again, slowly, almost as if he wanted to draw it out as long as he could. This time there were four swats on each side.

  After that, much to her surprise, he started to caress her bottom, rubbing his hand in circles. The gentle touch was in sharp contrast to the swats, and it almost bothered her more than the actual spanking had done.

  Just when she’d thought he was done with the punishment he started swatting her again, faster this time, one slap on each bum cheek. She prayed it hurt his hand as much as it hurt her bottom.

  Maisie remained silent, although she felt tears fill her eyes as he swatted her repeatedly.

  “Repeat it!” he said.

  “Repeat what? Ouch!” This time the swats were harder than before. He slapped her ass six times on each side. “You are the master of the servants and I am a seamstress!” she screamed. “If we go to the party you are in charge! I can do it, I swear it!”

  He swatted her harder, and now he increased the tempo and intensity. Tears stung her eyes but she didn’t try to wiggle away. Surely if she didn’t react he would stop sooner. Wouldn’t he?

  No, it seemed she was wrong. He kept on spanking her. When he slowed, and then rubbed her bottom again, she prayed that was the last of it.

  “Are you finished?” she asked, sniffling after she’d spoken.

  “Say it one more time,” he said as he continued to rub her bottom.

  “Please, not again,” she said.

  He ordered her to speak the words and she did.

  “Now, stand up and straighten your clothes.”

  “How do you feel, Mrs. Glover?” he asked.

  “Embarrassed,” she said.

  “That was an easy spanking,” he said. “If you cannot take that without feeling uncomfortable there is no way you would be able to convince the people at the party that you are an experienced sexual submissive.”

  “I can,” she said. “I am not a virgin.”

  “You’ve sucked a man’s prick before?”

  “Of course I have,” she whispered.

  Mr. Cummings shook his head. “You’re redder than the carpet in the library. Mrs. Glover, this is a bad idea and we will not go any further with it. Go back to your room.”

  “No!” Maisie put her hand on his crotch and cupped his prick. It was hard. She hadn’t felt a hard prick in more than a year. She massaged him, and when he groaned she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Prove it to me, Mrs. Glover,” he said. “Drop to your knees, take my prick out and then put it in your mouth. Suck me to completion and then swallow ever bit of my cum. If you can do that, then you can go to the party with me. But there will be more training before the event.”

  The test was harsh for their first time together, but Maisie refused to let him intimidate her. She wanted to attend the party, despite the nature of it.

  “I signed papers today that made me a partner in searching for Vanessa,” she said. “I have a stake in this. I will not let you shut me out!”

  “I won’t!” He slapped his hand on the desk. “You have my word.”

  Maisie laughed. “I don’t trust you. How do I know you are not setting me up to take the fall for your scheme? You know what is happening. When the bored lord’s father shows up for his property I may be the only one here to take the blame!”

  “You ar
e spouting nonsense.”

  “Am I? You made sure Throckmorton saw me tonight.” She shook her finger in his face. She didn’t care if it made him angry or not. “When he cries out that he’s been robbed, I may well be the only person left for him to blame.”

  The thought of spending the rest of her life in Newgate made her turn cold.

  “You may grab my cock right now, but you would react differently in front of a group of people you don’t know,” he said. “I understand your concerns, but you have to stay here and let me handle this.”

  “No,” she said. “I will go with you, or the moment you leave I will run to Throckmorton and tell him you have his money, and are running.”

  It was a bluff, and he probably knew it, but Maisie stared at him, praying he would see she was serious.

  “Very well, Mrs. Glover, as I said, prove to me you can take part in the type of party we will be attending. Suck my prick. Now.”

  Maisie knew she had no other recourse but to do as he said. She dropped to her knees and started to undo his breeches.

  Chapter 8

  Her hands trembled as she undid the stays on his breeches. His cock popped out; it was longer and thicker than she remembered one being. Elvin had taught her how to please him this way, and even though it had been a while, she was sure she could remember.

  She licked the head. His moan of pleasure emboldened her and she moved her tongue down the shaft. She had forgotten the salty, male taste of a man and she wanted to attack his length with abandon.

  And so she did.

  She put her hands on his hips and sucked him as deeply as she could take him. He put his hands in her hair and massaged her scalp as she sucked him. Back and forth, back and forth she went.

  It took her a moment to remember what Elvin had told her brought him the best pleasure.

  She released his cock and said, “Spread your legs.”

  He did as she asked, and she saw him put a hand on his desk, probably to steady himself.

  Maisie grasped his cock and stroked it a few times before taking him back in her mouth. Then she moved her hands from his hips to his sac, and she traced a finger over it as she tightened her mouth around his hardness. Mr. Cummings shivered, at the same time he flooded her mouth. She swallowed it just as she’d done with Elvin, and she found she was actually enjoying herself.