Ready To Obey

by Melinda Barron

  Maisie shrugged. “We had an incredible encounter,” she finally said. “I’ve never felt such pleasure.” Her gaze was trained on the floor, and she felt strange talking about it with a woman she barely knew, but if Sylvia had experienced what Maisie was feeling now, maybe she could help.

  “I’ve been a widow for some time,” Maisie said. “Mr. Cummings is not going to settle for marriage. Plus, I don’t love him. I’m afraid what I’m feeling is nothing more than a desire for, well, to put it quite bluntly, him to fuck me.”

  The words made her blush, but Maisie smiled when Sylvia laughed.

  “There is nothing wrong with that,” Sylvia said. “If there is one thing Mr. Leslie taught me it is that talking with your lover is very important. You, and I’m using a general term here, think the worst of things. Sometimes you misinterpret things. You need to discuss how you’re feeling, and remember not to hold anything back. Trust is important in a relationship.”

  Maisie felt as if Sylvia were lecturing her, but she knew the woman’s words were true. She and Elvin had always talked about things. They had been friends for so long that life was easy for them. They talked about everything, and she felt as if she could tell him anything.

  “I know Mr. Cummings told Mr. Leslie that the two of you were here to explore the lifestyle,” Sylvia said. “We know now that is not true. You are here to find a stolen item.”

  “Yes,” Maisie said. “I’m sorry we deceived you.”

  “It’s been intriguing,” Sylvia said with a smile. “And whatever the men are planning for later will be fun, I’m sure, even if it is in the guise of finding information. But tell me, are you planning on staying with Mr. Cummings when this puzzle is solved? I mean when you are back in Bath?”

  Maisie shifted in her seat. The change caused a twinge in her bottom, which ached from the spanking she’d received. But the pain wasn’t what was bothering her. It was Sylvia’s question. It pulled at something in her mind, and then all of a sudden it hit her: finding Vanessa in the wardrobe, as if she were hiding. But the woman hadn’t been hiding, she’d been hiding something, and then she’d gone about the ruse of looking for it in Mr. Cummings’s office.

  She shot up quickly and gasped.

  “What is it?” Sylvia asked. “Have I upset you with my question. I am so sorry if I have, but it is something you need to think about.”

  “That’s not it,” Maisie said. “Well, it is.” She sat back down and cringed, moving around until she found a spot that didn’t cause too much pain. “When we came here I packed all my belongings, which do not number many at all. I found Vanessa in my room at one point, near my valise. She told Mr. Cummings that I had the item in question. What if she hid it in my satchel?”

  “We need to look,” Sylvia said, her excitement evident. “Where is it?”

  “In our carriage,” Maisie said. “We switched when we arrived at the gate, and it’s still there, hopefully. Mr. Cummings does not know I brought everything. I should have told him. What if someone has stolen it?”

  “The carriages are in a safe place,” Sylvia said. “But I think when the men return we need to tell them immediately.”

  “If it is gone I will never forgive myself,” Maisie said.

  “It wouldn’t be your fault, you didn’t take it,” Sylvia said. “Other than that, I think you should focus on why you brought all your things with you. I’m sure Mr. Cummings will be curious.”

  Oh yes, he’ll be more than curious, Maisie wanted to say. “We may not have come here to learn about the possibility of a relationship between ourselves, but…” Maisie let her words drift off. But what? Had she developed feelings for Mr. Cummings that would make her leaving difficult? Sylvia was right when she said they needed to discuss their feelings, or at least hers.

  Maisie knew the moment Mr. Cummings found out Maisie had brought everything she owned to Morton-on-Mare for what was supposed to be a weekend trip he would demand an explanation.

  Maisie wasn’t sure she would have one, because what had seemed so obvious before was very clouded now.

  “I’ve sent one of my most trusted employees,” Mr. Leslie said.

  Maisie kept her gaze trained to the floor. When Mr. Cummings and Mr. Leslie had returned from setting up their plan for this evening, she’d told them about her valise, and the idea that the item they were looking for might be inside. Mr. Cummings had frowned, but it had been a deep one, as if he were thinking about something that bore deep inside his body. But he hadn’t said a word to Maisie; not about her bringing all her belongings or about her plans to leave from Morton-on-Mare. The only thing he’d said was about their plans for the evening.

  “Peyton has offered to help, if we need him,” he’d said. “He’s next door right now, watching our captive.”

  “You mean watching our thief?” Mr. Leslie asked. “One of my closest friends is going to take care of things downstairs for us, so Mr. Braxton can lend us a hand, so to speak.”

  The men laughed, and Maisie wanted to ask exactly what they had planned. What would she be required to do? Or Sylvia? She looked at her new friend, who was smiling. Obviously, Sylvia didn’t need to be in on the planning. It seemed she would just be happy to take part.

  “We’ll let her sit for a while longer,” Mr. Leslie said. “Sylvia and I need to be seen at dinner, and after that we’ll find out what’s in Maisie’s valise. I’m sure it will be back by then. Shall I have food sent up for you?”

  “Yes, please,” Mr. Cummings said. “I appreciate your help.”

  “You’re most welcome,” Mr. Leslie said. “I have to admit I was a little angry at being deceived, but this has been, well I hate to use the word entertaining, but it fits. I will be interested to see what was taken. I know Lord Geoffrey is still downstairs. I haven’t seen his brother.”

  The men shook hands. “I will see you around nine.”

  “Thank you,” Mr. Cummings said. “I will tell Peyton our plans. He’s always up for a bit of intrigue.”

  Everyone seemed to leave at once. When Maisie was alone she stared into the fire. There was the murmur of voices coming from the attached room. This weekend had definitely not turned out as she’d thought it would.

  “Are you trying to see the future in the flames?” Mr. Cummings asked. “I do believe they use tea leaves for that sort of thing.”

  “I’m sorry, I was just waiting,” she said.

  He sat down in one of the chairs near her. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Tell you?”

  “Please, Maisie, let us not play around,” he said. “When were you going to tell me you were not planning on returning to Bath? What made you think I had a thousand pounds on me to give you? It’s not exactly a sum of money that one carries on a trip.”

  She hated to admit she hadn’t really thought about that.

  “Are you so ready to be on your way to America?” he asked. “I had thought the two of us were getting to know each other.”

  What exactly did he mean by that? “You knew I was leaving,” she said. “It was our deal, that I help you and I get a ticket to America.”

  “Yes, but you hadn’t corresponded with your mother, so I didn’t expect you to leave so quickly,” he said. “I had hoped for time.”

  “Time for what?” Maisie asked. “Did you hope to not pay for my ticket?”

  “I had hoped the two of us would have more time together,” he said, obviously exasperated with her. “I had hoped you were enjoying our time together, and might consider staying for a while.”

  “For what?” she asked. Did she dare hope he wanted to build a relationship with her, one that could lead to marriage, maybe? Maisie was shocked that the idea had even popped into her mind. She’d never thought about marrying again. Why was it coming up now?

  “You know for what,” he said. “I find you fascinating, Maisie. I’ve never had a woman who fought what she desired so much.”

  “I don’t…” She didn’t what? The orgasm she�
��d had at his hands the other day still seemed to course through her. But there was more to life than sex.

  “We’ll discuss it after all this is over,” he said. “If, once we’ve settled things you still want to go, I will take you to London, get funds for you, and then purchase you a ticket to America.”

  “Just like that?” she asked.

  “It was our deal,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try to change your mind.”

  Maisie shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure about being part of a house that teaches ladies how to pleasure their men.”

  He chuckled. “With Mrs. Beale’s betrayal, the school is over,” he said. “I will have to go to Bath and take care of things, refund money to the gentlemen who sent their others there for lessons. The house belongs to Mrs. Beale, so I don’t have to worry about that. If she is arrested for theft from Lord James it will be up to the government to decide what to do with the property.”

  Maisie hadn’t thought that far ahead. “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I have funds that will keep me for a time while I decide what direction to take.”

  She wanted him to say something else, to push her just a little. Did he really want her to stay with him? If so, why wasn’t he saying anything right now?

  “How is your bottom?” he asked.

  “Very sore,” she admitted.

  “Shall I put more salve on you?”

  “I would like that,” she said.

  “Take up your position on the bed,” he said.

  Maisie did as he asked, lifting her skirt before she lay down. When he started to rub her bottom she sighed in pleasure.

  “I don’t like that someone else marked your bottom,” he said.

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to that at first. After a few long moments she said, “You would rather the marks came from you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  She couldn’t help but smile. At least he was honest. “I didn’t like it,” she said. “I’m not like Vanessa. I don’t want pain.”

  “There are different types of submission,” he said. “I think we’ve discussed that before. Believe it or not, Maisie, but I have read you, and I know what you need.”

  “We don’t know each other,” she said. “One weekend does not make a relationship.”

  “It is a start,” he said. “Roll over onto your back.”

  “How are you going to massage my bottom if I do?”

  “That was an order, Maisie,” he said. “Do as you’re told.”

  She hated to admit that she liked the stern tone of his voice. She started to turn, but when she did he was on top of her in an instant. He pulled her wrists together and seconds later he looped a piece of rope around them, attaching her to the headboard.

  “No!” she screamed. She kicked out, but connected with nothing. He moved so fast that she knew she had no chance of getting the upper hand, especially since he’d taken away the use of hers so quickly. He attached her legs to ropes on the footboard. Her legs were spread wide.

  The caftan was wrapped around her. Mr. Cummings straddled her and lowered his mouth to her breast. He took it into his mouth, material and all, and sucked. When he bit she cried out. The pain was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. He sucked and bit and sucked again.

  “Stop it, stop it,” she said as she struggled against her bonds. Mr. Cummings ignored her. After a few moments he moved to her other breast and did the same thing. After lavishing the same attention on it he moved to the other, and then back and forth. Her nipples started to ache, but it was not as painful as she’d thought it would be.

  The sensations spread to her clit, and her hips started to roll. He must have noticed the movement because he abandoned her breasts and moved his mouth between her legs.

  When he tongued her bare lips she groaned. He parted her lips and started to lick her quim, sliding his tongue up and down but ignoring her clit. She wiggled, trying to intensify the pleasure he brought to her.

  “Please, please,” she said.

  It was as if that was what he’d been waiting for. He sucked her clit into his mouth and bit down.

  Maisie screamed in pain, or at least that’s what she thought it was. Her body seized as he bit again and an orgasm, so intense she thought her body would pull apart, hit her.

  He continued to bite, not so hard that he would have drawn blood, or so she thought, but the pain was harsh. Tears leaked from her eyes as he continued to assault her fragile flesh.

  When he covered her body with his she thought that maybe he would put his cock inside her, but he didn’t.

  “I know what you need, Maisie,” he said.

  “I need your cock,” she said. “Give it to me.”

  His chuckle was deep, and somewhat menacing. “You’ll get my cock when I say.”

  She could smell herself on him. “Please,” she said.

  “Maybe later,” he said, lazily. “If you behave tonight. If not, I’ll add my marks to those already on your bottom.”

  “That’s not what I want,” she said as he sat up. He straddled her hips and started to undo his breeches. Maisie couldn’t help but smile. He was going to give her his cock.

  But once it was out he started to stroke himself. Their gazes locked as he jerked his prick, and when he spilled all over her belly he smiled.

  “As I said, you’ll get it when I say, and not a moment before.”

  Maisie wasn’t sure how she felt about that, at least mentally. Her body, still humming from the painful orgasm he’d just dealt her, moved under him, silently begging for more.

  Chapter 16

  “Should we open it?” Maisie stared at the box on the desk. It was no bigger than the palm of her hand, and there was no telling what was inside.

  “It’s not ours to open,” Mr. Cummings said.

  “Too true,” Mr. Leslie concurred. “It belongs to Lord Geoffrey’s family.”

  “Then we should have him up here and give it to him,” Maisie said.

  The room was silent. “The item is stolen,” Mr. Cummings said. “We need more information before we figure out how to proceed. If we think Lord Geoffrey, or Lord James, is involved, we return the box directly to their father.”

  Maisie didn’t think that was a good idea, but she didn’t want to contradict him in front of the others.

  “Do you really think Vanessa is going to talk?” she asked.

  Mr. Cummings laughed. “I’ve known Vanessa for two years, and I know which buttons to push to make her lose control.”

  A spark of jealousy ran through Maisie. Her nipples and her clit ached from the afternoon lovemaking, if that’s what it could be called. The physical pleasure had been extraordinary, and, she told herself, if she felt a spark of jealousy at the thought of him knowing Vanessa so well it meant she was emotionally involved.

  She hadn’t expected that, and the jealousy brought out a bit of guilt. She had never thought to let herself get involved with another man after Elvin died. Their friendship, and their marriage, had been perfect. How could she allow herself to consider staying in England and starting a relationship with Mr. Cummings? She didn’t even call him by his first name.

  “Is something wrong?” Mr. Cummings’s voice was soft, almost like a caress. Maisie shook her head to displace the memory of him caressing her bottom, and then bringing her to a climax that made her toes wiggle.

  “No,” she said. “I just… I don’t know what to do.”

  “Follow my instructions,” he said. “You won’t have any physical contact with Vanessa, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  That thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Now she felt like she had another thing to worry about. At least she wasn’t naked. She wore a red caftan trimmed with gold lace. Sylvia’s was green, trimmed with white lace. As a seamstress, Maisie thought the garment was beautiful, and she wondered how long it took to make.

  “Concentrate,” Mr. Cummings said, as if he cou
ld read her mind. “Mr. Braxton has Vanessa in place in the attic. We need to get things started. Just remember to follow my lead and do as you’re told. Vanessa will tell all, trust me.”

  “Are you going to torture her?” Maisie asked.

  “After a fashion, yes,” Mr. Cummings said with a smile. “But one woman’s torture is another’s pleasure.”

  “We need to take the box with us, to keep it in sight,” Mr. Leslie said. “My house is safe, but right now I don’t trust a few people here. I’d like to keep whatever is in that box near us. I don’t want to be facing an angry solicitor, like you are.”

  “Agreed,” Mr. Cummings said. “Let’s get started.”

  They made their way to a doorway that opened onto a set of stairs. The ladies went first and as they neared the top, Maisie could hear whispered voices. They stepped into a large room, with various tables and chairs lining the walls. In the center was a cross, upon which Vanessa, naked as the day she was born, was secured.

  Mr. Braxton stood near her. “You’ve been such a bad girl,” he said as they all entered the room.

  His admonishment didn’t seem to frighten Vanessa; in fact she was smiling, no doubt anticipating a whipping, which Maisie knew she loved.

  There were two chairs opposite her, by about ten feet.

  “Please sit, Maisie,” Mr. Cummings said. She did as he asked, and Sylvia sat down next to her.

  “Do you see these lovely ladies?” Mr. Braxton asked. “They’ve been good, doing as they are supposed to do, following instructions and behaving themselves. They are going to submit to their men, who, in turn, are going to play with them. The ladies have permission to have as many orgasms as they want. You, on the other hand, will get nothing.”

  “Oh it won’t be nothing,” Mr. Cummings said. “I know her well enough to realize she’s going to want pain and she’s going to want a dick inside her, and not getting it will be her undoing.”

  Maisie gasped in surprise when Mr. Cummings leaned over and kissed her. His hand closed over her breast and squeezed. Her aching nipples hardened under his touch.