Ready To Obey

by Melinda Barron

  “You taste so good, Maisie,” Mr. Cummings said.

  “Ha, the seamstress knows nothing about how to please a man,” Vanessa said.

  Oh really, Maisie thought. She turned and cupped Mr. Cumming’s crotch.

  “Oh, but she does,” Mr. Cummings said. “She pleases me more than any woman has ever done in my lifetime.”

  Maisie shivered at his words. She looked up and their gazes locked. At his nod she knew he was not just spouting words. He really did enjoy being with her. But was it more than any other woman?

  “Spread your legs,” he said, breaking her train of thought.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, pushing her legs as far apart as she could. He gathered the thin material of her caftan in his hands and inched it up her legs. Maisie could hear movement next to her, and she wondered what Mr. Leslie and Sylvia were doing. But her curiosity wasn’t enough to tear her gaze away from Mr. Cummings. When her quim was bare he dropped one side of the skirt and fingered her slit.

  Maisie groaned in pleasure, and to her surprise, so did Vanessa.

  “What a good girl she’s been,” said Mr. Braxton. “Look at how she writhes under his touch. He’s going to stroke her clit, make her come, and all you can do is watch, Vanessa. Of course, you can move your gaze between both couples. Look how Sylvia sucks her husband’s cock. It goes all the way in and comes back out and goes back in.”

  Those words made Maisie turn her head. Sure enough, Mr. Leslie stood to Sylvia’s side. His prick slid in and out of her mouth. Watching it made Maisie want to do the same to Mr. Cummings. But that would have to wait. His fingers were inside her, stroking the hard nub of her clit. She thrust her hips into his touch and her pleasure built.

  “Oh. Mr. Cummings,” she cried out as she spent. She wiggled and jerked as he continued to stroke her. She heard laughter, and she knew her movements were appreciated by all those in the room… except for Vanessa, who was screaming that it wasn’t fair, that she needed sex too, that it had been too long.

  “Stand up,” Mr. Cummings ordered. Maisie did as he asked. His next direction had her naked. “Over the chair,” he said.

  Once again she scrambled to do as he asked. She’d never been this excited in her life. She savored the idea that Vanessa, who had used her, was watching while Maisie received the pleasure the other woman craved.

  “I’m going to spank you, Maisie,” Mr. Cummings said. “Just a little bit of pain to spark the fire inside you.”

  Maisie wanted to tell him the fire didn’t need sparking, but, to her surprise, she trusted him enough to know he was doing this for Vanessa’s sake. She also knew he would know she still felt the effects of her earlier spanking; he would do nothing to harm her.

  He crouched down next to her and their gazes locked again. Maisie’s heart beat wildly. He nodded ever so slightly, and her clit tightened. She blinked, and then smiled. He returned it and trailed his hand down her back as he moved to stand behind her.

  Maisie moaned as he caressed her bottom, right before he smacked her ass. She groaned again, and he smacked it once more. Maisie lifted her head from the cushion to see that Sylvia was also being spanked, but Mr. Leslie was using a long piece of leather on her, and striking her harder.

  The sounds filled the room.

  “More,” Maisie said. She turned to look at Mr. Cummings. “Harder, please.” His seductive smile made her feel as if she might melt.

  “No!” Vanessa screamed. “Stop it, this is not fair.”

  Everyone, including Mr. Braxton who had been talking to her before, ignored her.

  Maisie gasped as a hard swat hit her bottom. She didn’t have to see it to know it was a paddle, a thick wooden one. He swatted her again, and again, and Maisie found the intense pain made her want more. He smacked her twice more, and then he pressed his crotch into her backside.

  “It’s a shame we had to miss the afternoon session with the dildos,” Mr. Cummings said. “Maybe we should play it out now.”

  “A most excellent idea,” Mr. Leslie said. “The both of you, on all fours on the ground with your asses toward the center of the room.”

  Maisie wasn’t sure what he meant, but then she remembered the session they’d been forced to abandon. It was indeed about dildos—one with two heads. She’d been happy that she hadn’t had to do it before; but she would have to do it now. If she balked it would ruin everything they’d built up right now. Vanessa was moaning and groaning about how unfair it was that all she could do was watch.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Mr. Cummings whispered in her ear as he lifted her from her seat. “Don’t be afraid. Trust me to keep control of things.”

  Maisie found that she did, but she also knew that Mr. Leslie had a hand in things. But he stood to lose things, too, if they didn’t get the information out of Vanessa that they wanted.

  Mr. Cummings cupped her cheek in his and then he kissed her. “Go on, kneel down,” he said when the kiss broke. “The pleasure from this will be incredible, I promise. Don’t fight it, just let it flow through your body.”

  “Yes, Mr. Cummings,” she said.

  Give over, she thought to herself. Be ready to obey and don’t cause a rift in the situation.

  She got down on her knees, with her bum facing Sylvia’s. Her new friend was already in the same position. Maisie couldn’t decide if her trembling was because of her fear, or excitement. Could she handle another orgasm like she’d experienced before? She hoped so. Would this one be as intense as the others? So many questions rolled through her mind, and she knew she needed to do as Mr. Cummings had said. She needed to relax and not fight what was happening.

  Mr. Cummings’s hands were on her again, gently stroking her wet folds. He stroked his fingers up and down, and then gently slid his thumb inside her. Maisie groaned, and then she smiled as Vanessa’s scream filled the air.

  “Don’t! I can’t stand it.”

  “Vanessa craves sex,” Mr. Cummings said as he pressed something cold and hard against Maisie’s quim. “It is hard for her to watch someone else enjoying being fucked.”

  Maisie groaned as the dildo slid inside her. It felt so different than a cock, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Mr. Cummings slide it in and out, slowly and gently, and Maisie’s breathing came in short, hard gasps; she felt as if she might lose consciousness.

  “Hold still, sweet Maisie,” he said. His instruction made her shake her head. Had she been moving? If she had she didn’t realize it.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “You’re going to be needing that movement in just a few moments. Now, hold still.”

  The phallus was still inside her; when Maisie heard Sylvia’s moan, and Vanessa’s scream, she giggled. Seconds later, cold flesh met her bottom, and it took her a moment to realize it was Sylvia’s bottom pressed up against hers. A two-headed dildo, one head in her, and one in Sylvia.

  “See how beautiful they are joined like that,” Mr. Cummings said.

  Vanessa was crying now, her hiccups and sobs loud.

  “Start to move, ladies,” Mr. Cummings said. “Set up a rhythm, one of you holding it still while the other moves on it. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “Yes,” Sylvia said, her voice breathy. “You go first, Maisie.”

  “But I’ve never done this before,” Maisie said, her voice matching Sylvia’s.

  Mr. Cummings caressed her bottom. “Move away from the dildo, little one, very slowly. When it’s at your opening, push yourself back onto it. Then hold still and let Sylvia do the same. When she is still you repeat the movement.”

  He continued to caress her bottom, the movement arousing her as she started to follow his instructions. They set up a sweet rhythm, slow at first and then increasing in intensity.

  Mr. Cummings kept his hands on her, one on her bottom, and the other on her quim. She’d never dreamed people did anything like this, and she had never thought she would take part. But the incredible pleasure, t
he way it made her body shake—right now she wondered why it had taken her so long to experience something like this.

  The answer was obvious. It was the man caressing her so gently, bringing about such powerful sensations that she felt she would melt into the floor.

  Maisie exploded, her body quaking as she screamed, “Mr. Cummings! More, please, oh my God.”

  She ended up in his arms, the dildo gone from her. How it had happened she didn’t know. What she did know was he was cradling her close to his chest, his face buried in her hair whispering, “Sweet Maisie, it will be all right. Relax, little one, relax and savor the feelings.”

  Maisie wanted to do exactly what he said, but Vanessa’s screams kept that from happening.

  “Me, me, me!” She said. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just someone whip and fuck me. I can’t take it anymore!”

  Mr. Cummings chuckled and whispered, “It worked.”

  Then he lifted his head and said, “Talk first, fuck second. And only if we’re convinced you’re telling the truth.”

  “I will, I swear,” she said. “I swear.”

  “She’ll do anything for sex,” Mr. Cummings said as he helped Maisie to her feet. She trembled in his arms and laid her head on his chest. “Are you all right?”

  “All right?” She lifted her gaze to his. “I can’t think of a word to describe what I’m feeling right now. But all right doesn’t even come close.”

  He cupped her face and then kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as the kiss broke, and he started another before she could even catch her breath. In that moment she knew, if he would have her, there was no way she would leave for America.

  She was dressed again by the time they handed the box to Lord Geoffrey. He stared at it as if it were the Holy Grail.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said. “My father is not well, and if he had found out this was missing, I think it would have pushed him over the edge. If I find my brother, I will throttle him to within an inch of his life.”

  Maisie didn’t doubt his words. The tale that Vanessa had spun was a little hard to believe, but, Mr. Cummings had said, that’s how they knew it was true.

  “She was so rattled by witnessing the scene and not being able to participate that I don’t think she could have dreamed up anything,” Mr. Cummings said.

  They were all in the library, dressed and enjoying sandwiches and tea—with one hand. Mr. Cummings had hold of her other one, as if he were afraid she would run off if he let go. When they were alone, she needed to tell him that she didn’t plan on leaving him anymore.

  They had a great deal to discuss, but right now Lord Geoffrey needed to have answers to his questions.

  “Mr. Cummings, maybe you should tell him what Vanessa told us,” Mr. Leslie said.

  Maisie thought about Vanessa, who was still in the attic with Mr. Braxton. Was he filling her needs, or was he making her suffer? After she’d spilled the entire story, Mr. Cummings had said she deserved to be left wanting since she’d caused so much trouble. But he’d left it up to Mr. Braxton to punish her as he saw fit.

  “It seems the scheme started months ago, and was concocted, I hate to say, by my business partner, Mrs. Beale,” Mr. Cummings said. “Mrs. Beale was in London, visiting Vanessa when she told her that Lord James, angry with his father about something, had taken a priceless object from his father’s library and hidden it at Vanessa’s house.”

  “My father never realized it was gone,” Lord Geoffrey said. “It was my mother who noticed the theft. She’s the one who put me on its trail.”

  “Mrs. Beale planned to sell it back to your father,” Mr. Cummings continued. “But then she and Vanessa decided to make more money off it and offer it to two men. Unfortunately, according to Vanessa, Mrs. Beale has taken the money and left for France. May I ask about your conversation with her the other evening, Lord Geoffrey?”

  The room grew silent. Finally, Lord Geoffrey said, “First, I want to apologize to Mrs. Glover for being so rude to her when she discovered me talking with Mrs. Beale in the garden. The lady in question had just told me that it was Mrs. Glover who was in league with Vanessa and had taken my father’s property. I know now that is not true.”

  “Your apology is accepted,” Maisie said.

  “Blaming Maisie was part of the plan,” Mr. Cummings said. “They needed someone who wasn’t connected to them. They gave Jack, the pub owner, a few hundred pounds to send Maisie our way. Then Vanessa hid the item in Maisie’s belongings, thinking it would be discovered there while we were here. When Mrs. Beale found it was gone she came here to try and finagle money out of you, Lord Geoffrey.”

  “But they already had money from people in Bath,” Maisie said.

  “Thieves always want more,” Mr. Cummings said.

  Maisie huffed in indignation. “They tried to make me a thief. And they’ve gotten us in trouble with the solicitor, Mr. Throckmorton. How are we supposed to find the money to pay him? He is holding us responsible.”

  “I will pay him,” Lord Geoffrey said. “After all, my brother started it all by taking the box from our father. And, it is worth the money to get this back.” He stroked the box.

  “I would be most grateful, Lord Geoffrey,” Mr. Cummings said.

  “May I ask what it is?” Maisie said. She glanced at Mr. Cummings, who frowned at her.

  “Yes you may, I think you’ve all earned it,” Lord Geoffrey said. “It is a ring, and a locket with hair that is reportedly from King Henry VIII. Family lore says one of our ancestors was one of his many mistresses. He reportedly gave her the items, which were put in this box and passed down from generation to generation.”

  Maisie stared at the box. “That has King Henry’s hair in it?”

  “Yes, or so we’ve been told,” Lord Geoffrey said. “Reportedly, Lady Beatrice was one of his favorites.”

  A shudder ran through Maisie and she couldn’t help but say, “At least he didn’t marry her, if you don’t mind me saying so. If he had, you might not be here because she could have lost her head.”

  Lord Geoffrey stared at her, and then he laughed. “Too true, Mrs. Glover.” He stood. “I’m going to Bath now to clean up my brother’s mess. Mr. Cummings, please give me the names of the people who are owed money because of this.”

  The two men put their heads together, and Maisie sat in her chair, grateful for Lord Geoffrey, even though she hadn’t thought well of him before. When he was gone, Mr. Cummings sat down in his chair.

  “Well, I suppose this situation will end the school in Bath,” he said.

  “Yes, I wondered about that,” Mr. Leslie said. He leaned forward in his chair. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Yes?” Mr. Cummings said.

  “Our weekends here are well attended, and profitable, but between myself and Sylvia we cannot handle as many as I’d like.” Mr. Leslie nodded ever so slightly. “But if you and Mrs. Glover would like to move to Morton-on-Mare and take up residence in the game keeper’s house, we could host more. We could be in business together. You could teach classes on how to be, shall we say, adventurous in the bedroom. Many of the people who come are intrigued, and want someone to guide them.”

  Maisie couldn’t help but smile. Mr. Cummings glanced at her and she nodded ever so slightly.

  “We need to discuss things, but it is an intriguing proposition,” Mr. Cummings said. “I will let you know in the morning.”

  “I’ll look forward to your answer,” Mr. Leslie said. He and Sylvia left the library and Mr. Cummings indicated the door.

  “We should retire to our room, Mrs. Glover,” he said. “Or would you consider a change to Mrs. Cummings?”

  “It is an intriguing proposition,” Maisie said. “I will let you know in the morning.”

  The smile on his face let her know that, like herself, he already knew her answer.

  Six months later

  “There are several places on the body you want to a
void striking.” Mr. Cummings’s voice was strong, and Maisie shivered as he ran the riding crop over the lower portion of her back. “This region, where the internal organs are, should never be hit. The chance of damage is extreme, and that is not what you want. You want to bring about painful pleasure for your lover. Mrs. Cummings, if you please, shift your legs.”

  Maisie did as he ordered, working to keep the candle that was inside her asshole from shifting. She was bent over a table, her hands tied behind her back. Mr. Cummings ran the tip of the riding crop over the swollen lips of her quim.

  “My wife’s pussy is soaking wet, because not only does she enjoy being struck by the riding crop, but she loves doing it for an audience. Learning about each other has been an adventure, and it can be the same with you and your lover. Communication is the key, both verbally and physically. For instance I can tell the difference between my wife’s reaction to this—” Mr. Cummings slapped the crop against her ass and Maisie cried out, partly in pain and partly in pleasure. In the last few months she’d learned to savor the harsh feel of her husband applying the long, leather bound instrument against her ass.

  “Or this,” he continued, and then he slapped it against her thigh. Her cry of pain was louder, and the candle started to slip from her bum. “She’s still learning to take it on the thighs.”

  He gave her one more swat, Maisie shifted again and the candle popped from her bottom and onto the floor. The crowd laughed, some of them nervously and some in amusement.

  “Bad, bad, Maisie,” Mr. Cummings said. He applied five hard, swift swats on her bum, and five more on her thighs. Her quim tightened in response as he slapped the crop against her bottom one more time.

  “Are there any questions? If not, you can use one of the playrooms to practice, or attend my next session in an hour.”

  Another hour. Maisie sighed, knowing she would receive more swats then. Six months ago she would have balked at the idea. Now she craved the feel of her husband punishing her. She stayed where she was as Mr. Cummings talked to the house party guests. Then the door shut and the room grew quiet.