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  Ready to Obey

  Melinda Barron

  Blushing Books

  ©2018 by Blushing Books® and Melinda Barron

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Melinda Barron

  Ready to Obey

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-822-3

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Contents

  What’s Inside

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Melinda Barron

  EBook Offer

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  What’s Inside

  “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.

  Chapter 1

  Bath, England

  May 1872

  Something told Maisie Glover there was something wrong with this school. She’d never been to a finishing school, but she didn’t think the students would be this old. Not a one of the females who had walked past her was under eighteen. As she glanced at the two women coming down the stairs she changed her mind and decided none of them were under twenty. It seemed a strange age for women of social standing to be in school. Most of them should be married by now, shouldn’t they?

  “Mrs. Glover?”

  Maisie looked up at the smiling, middle-aged woman standing in the doorway,

  “Yes,” Maisie said as she stood. She grasped her reticule tightly in an effort to still her shaking hands.

  “I’m Naomi Beale, the assistant headmistress,” she said. “If you’ll come with me I’ll introduce you to Mr. Cummings, the headmaster.”

  Not for the first time Maisie questioned her sanity in applying for this job. She had problems in the outside world, true, but this place seemed dark, and it wasn’t from the lack of light coming in through the open curtains. It was just gloomy outside, she said to herself. It had nothing to do with the atmosphere here.

  “We’ve been in need of a seamstress for some time,” Mrs. Beale said. She indicated Maisie should follow her as she headed out of the room. “The work might seem a bit daunting at first, but when you’re caught up things will seem better.”

  Mrs. Beale led Maisie through several twists and turns, through what was obviously a dining hall and then a kitchen. Off the kitchen there was a short hallway, which led to a staircase.

  Once they were downstairs the darkness intensified, despite the gas lighting. She wondered once again if she should turn and run, tell Mrs. Beale she had made a mistake. Then she remembered Jack, and Mr. Parker, and she fought back the urge to flee.

  At the first doorway to the right of the stairwell, Mrs. Beale knocked on the door.

  “Mr. Cummings?”

  “Come in,” a deep voice responded,

  Mrs. Beale opened the door and Maisie stepped into an even darker room. Behind a desk mounded with books and papers sat a man who took Maisie’s breath away. She forgot about her misgivings as she focused her attention on him. All she could see of his clothing was his shirt, vest, coat and tie, but it wasn’t that that made him so striking. It was the light blue eyes and dark hair that set him off.

  “This is Mrs. Glover, sir,” Mrs. Beale said. “She’s here about the seamstress job.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Beale,” the man said. “That will be all.”

  The woman left, closing the door behind her.

  “Please, have a seat,” Mr. Cummings said. “I need to finish this and I’ll be right with you.”

  Maisie sat down in one of two chairs across from his desk. She took the time to look around. There was a sofa near the hearth, but there was no other decoration,
no paintings on the walls or windows.

  “You’re a widow, correct?”

  Maisie’s head jerked toward Mr. Cummings.

  “Yes, sir.” Maisie flexed her fingers to keep from balling her hands into fists. She’d relaxed a little, but now that he spoke the anxiety was back.

  “No children?”

  “No, sir.”

  He finally looked up from the papers on the desk and narrowed his eyes. “At your age?”

  “My husband and I tried, but it was not to be.”

  “And where are you employed now?” he asked.

  “The Poke and Bear,” she said.

  “I don’t suppose you make much money there.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said. “That’s why I’m looking to make a change.” That and the fact that her boss was demanding she take on another job, one of servicing his customers in a totally different way.

  “I see,” he said. “You understand what this position entails?”

  “I do, sir.” She continued flexing her fingers. “You are looking for a seamstress to repair dresses for the young ladies here.”

  “And to sew new creations if necessary,” he said. He nodded toward a table. “Mend that dress and if I am happy with your work we will discuss other things.”

  Other things like pay? Maisie wanted to ask. She was terrified that she would walk out of here without the job. Jack had been clear the night before. One of his customers offered him ten pounds if Jack would give him Maisie for the night.

  “You’ll suck his cock, and let him fuck you,” Jack had said. “I’ll give you three of the ten pounds. If it works out, we can make the arrangement with several men and make a little money on the side.”

  Maisie had run from the pub, and she’d been terrified to go home. But that’s when she’d seen the notice on the board offering a job at the school. Maisie knew how to sew. It was one of the greatest skills she had.

  She went to the table and picked up the dress, studying the rip. It was uneven, but could be mended to where it wouldn’t show. She could gather the material in the right way and use the right color thread to blend in with the fabric.

  It didn’t take long to plan a course of action. She went to work and had it done in half an hour. When she was done, Maisie studied the dress and saw a spot near the one she’d already mended that also needed attention and fixed it; then she saw another and did the same thing. When she was done, she stood.

  “It took you a long time,” he said. “At that rate you wouldn’t be able to get dresses finished in a timely fashion. I’m sorry, but you won’t work out.”

  Her heart leapt into her throat. “But sir, I mended two other places where the dress was threadbare.”

  “Show me.”

  Maisie crossed the room and pointed out the other two places. He took the dress and looked at it carefully. He frowned, and Maisie was afraid her extra work would not secure her the position.

  “Excellent,” he said. “You can hardly tell it’s been mended.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Cummings.”

  “Can you start tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  He studied her. “You need to start earlier?”

  “I do, please,” she said.

  He sat back in his chair and studied her. “Are you running from something?”

  She wasn’t sure what to tell him, but soon decided that telling him the truth was the best thing to do. She related the incident of the night before, praying it wouldn’t make him change his mind.

  “I see,” he said. “Where are your belongings?”

  “I have rooms near the river,” she said.

  “I’ll send one of the gardeners with you to collect them,” he said.

  Relief washed over her. “Thank you, Mr. Cummings.”

  “I’ll show you your room and you can settle in when you return and start work tomorrow.

  “Yes, sir,” Maisie said.

  “In the morning I will show you the sewing room,” he said. “Now, wait here and I’ll find an escort for you.”

  Moments later she was in a wagon, heading to the center of town. Maisie sighed in relief as the man, who called himself MacGruder, flicked the reins. He accompanied her inside and once they were at her rooms, he waited outside the door while she packed her things.

  Her landlord appeared as she was carrying out a suitcase.

  “Jack was here last night, and this morning,” he said. “I’m to let him know when you’re back.”

  Before Maisie could respond MacGruder pulled a few pounds from his pocket and offered them to her landlord. But before he could snatch them up, MacGruder pulled them back. “If you see this man tell him nothing.”

  The landlord greedily eyed the money. He nodded and then took the cash. Maisie couldn’t see how much it was, but by the look on the landlord’s face it was quite a bit.

  MacGruder took her arm and guided her to the wagon. When they were back on their way she said, “Why did you do that?”

  “To keep him silent for a bit,” MacGruder, said.

  She wasn’t sure it would work, but it gave her time to get away. That made things perfect, as far as she could tell. Maisie had moved to the rooms after her husband, Elvin had died a year and a half ago. She’d barely made her rent each week, and Jack knew that. Not for the first time, Maisie wished Elvin had not died. The thought made her feel guilty. Elvin had not been a good-looking man, but he had been good to her, and he’d made her laugh. No matter how poor they were he always provided food. He worked hard, and his job as a chimneysweep was not easy. That was what had led to his death.

  “I found something new, Elvin,” she said to herself. Despite the darkness she’d felt today she prayed her new life would lead her into a bright future. Hopefully it was one that would be full of sunshine, and money.

  The next morning, Maisie traveled to Mr. Cummings office after eating the porridge and tea that had been left outside her door. Once again, she found him behind his desk, working.

  “Your work room will be near the kitchen,” he said. “There are lots of windows there so you should have plenty of light.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Maisie said.

  “I ask that you not go wandering around the school,” he said as they headed up the stairs. “The gardens are quite beautiful, and if you want to take the air that would be a good place. The other rooms are off limits, as that is where we train the girls.”

  Train? Maisie found that an off word, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Am I the only one residing downstairs?” she asked.

  “I have a room down here,” he said. “Mrs. Beale and the other staff members and servants are on the third floor.

  “Is there a lot of staff?” she asked.

  “Not so much,” he said. “We have a butler, and several footmen, maids and cooks. You will not be asked to do anything other than sewing.”

  Maisie couldn’t imagine that thirty or so upper class females would produce enough rips that they needed to employ a full-time mender, but she wasn’t going to argue. She was employed. She had a roof over her head. She was away from Jack.

  “Your room is a little isolated, I’m afraid, and since it is in the basement there is not a lot of sunlight.

  “I believe I will be spending most of my time in the workroom,” she said. “I will get my sunlight there.”

  He stopped on the stairs and turned to her. “I see you found your uniform.”

  Maisie nodded. The uniform was a simple black dress with a rope belt. Two pouches hung on either side of the belt for her to store her working utensils. Maisie felt as if she’d died and gone to heaven.

  They made their way through the kitchen. Maisie nodded at the cooks, who nodded back. The sewing room was indeed large. Inside she saw mounds of material. “Dresses, stockings, shifts, there are various things there,” Mr. Cummings said. “Each girl has her own basket in which to place things that need attention. It is important to keep them in their separate piles
, which means working on them one at a time.”

  “Yes, sir.” Maisie stared at what now looked like mountains.

  “Good, then get to work.”

  He was gone before Maisie could respond. She went to the basket that was nearest the door. It contained torn stockings and a dress that looked as if she had taken a knife to it. There were also several shifts that contained slashes. She wondered what this girl did to damage her clothing this way.

  Then she noticed the dark brown stain. Was that blood? Of course it was on a shift, so it could be from the girl’s monthly flux, but there didn’t seem to be enough of it for that. It was just a small amount, no bigger than two peas, really. She wondered if the dress had already been laundered. Either way, that wasn’t her job. She needed to concentrate on getting the frock mended. It was best to ignore it.

  “Did you find everything you need?” Maisie turned to find Mrs. Beale in the doorway.

  “I’m still becoming acquainted with things,” Maisie said,

  “Here are needles, thread and two thimbles,” Mrs. Beale said. “I know Mr. Cummings well enough to know he didn’t show you much or tell you much. He is preoccupied right now. We break in a few hours for tea and toast, and then luncheon is at one. We take another break in the afternoon for tea, and then supper is at six.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Beale,” Maisie said.

  “If you need anything please let the cooks know and they will search for me,” Mrs. Beale said. “Please don’t go around the students.”

  That was her second time to be warned away from the rest of the school, and it made Maisie wonder why. Don’t, she said to herself. Just be glad you’re working here and away from Jack.