Yes, Sir

Mary sat stiffly in her chair. She was unused to being kept waiting, but hid her displeasure her upbringing and refinement had taught her better: A lady is always self possessed, her mother admonished, regardless of how she finds herself.

Well past the age of marriage, her intemperate tongue had dissuaded many suitors over the years. Two weeks ago on her nineteenth birthday, much to her chagrin, her father had announced her engagement. She was entirely unaware of her new fiancé, Master Jameson, by either name or reputation though both her mother and father had assured her that he was a man of intelligence and wealth. She'd only met him the day prior, when he had been invited to dinner by her father and she was not entirely displeased. He was tall and strong featured, with light hair and eyes. His movements throughout dinner were sharp and neat, and though he displayed all the proper dinner manners, he ate like a man used to going without. Though he said little, his gaze rarely strayed from her throughout the dinner.

Father had engaged him in the usual banter involving his military career. While listening, Mary had learned that her husband to be had been enlisted in the service for a few brief years but honorably discharged. After a stint of poor luck, he'd become a machinists apprentice. Shortly thereafter the man he was apprenticed to had retired. Having no sons, he'd left the business to Jameson which had flourished under his guidance. Over a few months the shop had turned enough of a profit to expand, doubling the number of employees and now there was talk of opening a second shop in another city.

There was something in his pale eyes that had disquieted her. She'd slept fitfully that night, flushed and unable to get comfortable. The next day, shortly after breakfast, her father had announced that Jameson would be by before lunch to pick her up her belongings and transport them, and her, to his estate. Appalled, Mary had locked herself in her room in protest. It had taken her mother an hour of begging and pleading to finally get her to relent her position and acquiesce to her father. Fighting back tears, she'd spent the rest of the morning packing her clothes and belongings. When Jameson had finally arrived, she'd been standing by the door, her suitcases lined up at her side. Nodding his head slightly as he came up the walk, he'd hardly spoken two words to her as he loaded her suitcases into his carriage.

When the last of her luggage was loaded he'd spent a few minutes in private with her father. When he finally appeared from the study, he'd held his arm out to her stiffly. "My lady."

Mary took it without hesitation, determined not to show the distress she now felt. He'd helped her politely into the carriage, as a gentleman should before ordering the driver to depart. They rode in silence, sitting across from one another. Mary made it a point to look out the window, expressionless. She could feel his eyes on her face. He looked as if at any moment he might speak, but did not. An hour passed as the carriage rumbled through the streets, finally coming to a stop before a foreboding looking building. Mary suppressed a frown; calling it an estate would be generous. While the yard was a suitable size, comparable to her father's property, the building was small. Only two stories and a little over half the size of the house she'd grown up in. There would hardly be room for the servants, if there were any. It was hardly the home of a well to do businessman and more like the abode of a humorless miser.

Jameson opened the door and stepped out, holding his hand out in waiting. "My lady." He said, his voice quiet.

Mary cast her eyes downward and murmured her thanks as she took his hand. Behind them, the driver busied himself with unloading the luggage. No servants greeted them or came out to help with the luggage, only adding to Mary's concern. She stood like a statue as her husband and the driver carried the luggage up to the house. When everything had been moved, Jameson spoke a quiet word of thanks and handed the driver several coins. The driver had the good grace to look thankful and departed hastily, leaving Mary alone with her new husband.

"If you please." James said, holding his arm out to her again. "I would show you your new home."

Mary followed mutely as he walked her around the grounds of the estate. The lawn and hedges were immaculate, despite the absence of any obvious gardeners. Carefully cultivated trees encircled a magnificent garden, lush with roses and other beautiful flowers.

Jameson plucked a vibrant crimson rose and held it up with a glimmer of a smile. "Though it pales in comparison with your beauty, please accept this small token of my affection."

Mary blushed in spite of herself and accepted the rose, her hand trembling slightly. "Thank you."

The rest of the home was immaculate, but spartan with little in the way of decoration. It seemed to Mary that Jameson hardly spent any time away from work. Mary thought that was small comfort, she could do worse than having run of an empty house. Given time, perhaps she could convince him to invest in some proper décor and add some warmth to the place.

"Are there no servants?" Mary asked finally, unable to bear the silence any longer.

"Not yet." Jameson said enigmatically. "But eventually."

Mary was appalled by his dismissive tone, but kept her ire in check. "Who shall cook then? And clean? Am I to do all the housekeeping myself?"

"If you would prefer." Jameson replied. "Though I do retain a cook, and a butler, they have been granted leave while you adjust to your new life."

"And your business?"

"It can wait." Jameson said. "My assistants are all capable, and reliable. I shall receive notice if my presence is required. Until then, we have time to get acquainted."

"Acquainted?" Mary said, her voice dire. "I think you assume too much sir. I may be your fiancée, but we are not yet married."

Jameson smiled, but did not respond immediately. Instead he spent a moment looking Mary up and down. When he finally did speak, his tone was light but firm. "I will forgive you your tone, as you are unfamiliar with your role and the rules involved. If you are so inclined, we shall have dinner out this evening and enjoy each other's company before settling in for the night.

Mary opened her mouth to retort angrily, but was brought up short as Jameson raised his hand for her to pause.

"I'd advise you to consider your next words carefully. Your life can be pleasurable or painful, the choice is yours."

"You, sir, have remarkable nerve." Mary said, turning away. "I am not some simpleton to do as you bid. If I am to be your wife, you will treat me with all the respect and courtesy a gentleman can afford a lady."

"If?" James said, still smiling. "If has come and gone. Let me assure you, you are mine now. I own you as surely as if you have been sold. "

"If that is how you feel, sir. Then you shall find our relationship to be a distant one indeed."

"That is unfortunate." Jameson said, sounding amused. "Do you favor that dress?"

"What?" Mary turned in surprise, the abrupt shift in conversation catching her unawares.

"Your dress." Jameson said, still smiling. "Do you favor it?"

"Yes." Mary said. "It is one of my favorites."

"Then I would advise you remove it now, before it gets ruined."

"Ruined?" Mary's voice was shrill as she looked at him in disbelief. "You wouldn't dare."

"If you value the dress, would do well to take it off. Quickly, I might add."

"I will do no such thing!"

Jameson nodded. "I suspected as much. Your father mentioned you were quite spirited." Stepping forward he grasped her firmly by the wrist. "Have it your own way then." Ignoring her protests and struggles, Jameson pulled at the bindings of her dress.

Not one to be defeated so easily, Mary twisted and struggled, but was no match for his strength. Shrieking and kicking, she gasped in surprise as the top of her dress was pulled down and bunched around her waist, exposing her breasts.

"Not bad." Jameson commented, still holding a knot of fabric tightly at her waist, the sleeves of her dress had become bunched and pinned her arms to her sides. Dragging her down the hall, Jameson opened the door to his bedroom. Settling on a tall stool, he forced her across his knee. Mary's protests turned into shrieks of terror as he lifted her skirt, exposing her legs. Bunching the fabric, he hooked his fingers into her undergarments, pulling her stocking and underwear to her knees. Humiliated, Mary bit back her tears. "Dishonor me if you will, but I will not beg."

"Dishonor you?" Jameson said mildly. "I have no intention of doing so. Contrary to what you may believe, I am quite enamored with you and will leave you intact until after we are properly wed."

"Enamored?" Mary said, still struggling. "You have an odd way of showing it."

"Not at all." Jameson replied. "I simply wish to teach you manners." Without another word, he brought his free hand across her ass. The slap echoed throughout the house, causing Mary to jump in surprise. She hadn't been spanked since she was ten. The sting brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to give him the pleasure.

"Unhand me!" Mary screamed, twisting in his grasp.

Jameson said nothing and smacked her roughly across the ass, drawing forth another shriek. "Cry out all you like, when you've had enough, all you have to do is say 'please'."

"Never!"

"Have it your own way then." Jameson said, drawing his hand back. Mary shrieked and struggled as he spanked her mercilessly. Bright red welts formed across her pale buttocks as she cried and cursed. The red gave way to purple pinpricks as her delicate flesh began to bruise.

Breathless she lay limply across his lap, unable to move. The stinging in her backside was more than she could bear. Tears streaming down her face, she whispered through gritted teeth: "Please."

Jameson smacked her across the ass again, drawing a weak cry. "Did you say something?"

"Please!" Mary cried, giving in at last. "Please!"

Jameson nodded in approval and gently stroked her ass. He could feel the heat rising from her red and bruised flesh. It was sure to be remarkable tomorrow against her pale skin when the purple would turn to shades of orange and green.

"Now then, are you ready to listen?"

Still tearful, Mary nodded weakly. She refused to give in completely.

"Now." Jameson said, still stroking her backside. "You have a keen wit and intellect. I appreciate that and will continue to encourage it. Publicly, you are allowed to express yourself as you please. So long as you do not contradict me directly or embarrass me or yourself. Do you understand?"

Mary nodded, still too furious to speak. Her exposed backside was beginning to feel cold despite his ministrations. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself not to shiver.

"Now," Jameson continued, "in private I expect you to be obedient, especially for the duration of your education."

"Education?" Mary asked in spite of herself.

Jameson responded by slapping her smartly across the ass twice, once for each cheek. "Did I give you leave to speak?"

Biting back tears, Mary shook her head.

"Good girl." Jameson said as he resumed stroking her backside. "I am particular when it comes to relationships. You will learn to meet my needs. The quicker you manage to do this, the easier you will find my company. I am strict, but can be kind in my own way. If you please me, you will find my affection for you will become quite deep." He squeezed her buttocks, causing her to wince. "However, if you are determined to be stubborn, life will be difficult for you. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes." Mary said, her voice quiet. Outwardly she was calm; inwardly she was a veritable tempest plotting a suitable recourse for this evening. Abuse me, will you? We shall see who makes life difficult for whom.

"Excellent." Jameson replied, lifting Mary from his lap. With surprising delicacy and efficiency, he re-arranged her clothing. Within moments she was restored, more or less to her state prior to his ministrations.

Mary stood meekly through this, biding her time. Under her skirt, her ass was still stinging hotly. "What now, sir?" She asked, her voice cool. The urge to slap him was strong, but she refrained. In time, she would have the upper hand.

"Now, shall enjoy dinner I think."

Mary curtsied politely. "As you say."

The rest of the evening transpired pleasantly, much to her surprise. After his rough treatment of her, Jameson's mood seemed much improved, lively even. He spoke with a surprising degree of charm and wit, a sharp departure from his previous demeanor. In spite of herself, Mary felt her anger lifting and even spared him a laugh at a particularly clever comment. Dinner was quite exquisite with Jameson treating her to one of the finer restaurants. Jameson offered her a fine red wine with dinner, which warmed her and caused the pain in her backside to diminish considerably. When the evening came to a close, she found herself standing breathless and full of cheer in the entryway, the bruising on her backside all but forgotten.

As the door closed behind her, a weight seemed to settle all around. The silence in the house closed in as Jameson busied himself with removing his shoes. Still kneeling, he held one hand out to her.

"If you please?"

Mary hesitated, unsure of what he meant. After a moment, she lifted the hem of her skirt slightly and held out one foot. Jameson gripped her ankle gently and worked the buckle of her shoe, sliding it off with ease. Releasing her foot, he waited patiently for her to lift the other.

Whether it was wine or temper, Mary didn't know. Either way, her foot flew of its own violation, aimed directly at Jameson's smiling face. To his credit, he caught it easily, gripping her ankle firmly. "Now, now." He said his tone still mild. "I thought we were past this."

"You have yet to ask for my forgiveness." Mary spat, feeling bold. "You wronged me earlier, and have yet to make amends."

"Amends?" Jameson asked, straightening up. "I see you do not yet take me seriously. I shall remedy this immediately. You should remove your dress."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Or what? You're going to spank me? You caught me off guard earlier, you shall not do so again."

Jameson took a step closer, leaning his face close enough to her ear that she could feel his breathe. Despite herself, Mary shivered, though if it were wine or fear she could not say.

"Remove, your dress."

"No." Mary said, her voice quiet.

"Now."

Trembling, Mary fumbled at the ties on her dress. After a moment, it was loose enough to slip free. Bunching the loose fabric around her bosom, she felt herself blushing again. "Please."

"It's too late for that, pet." Jameson said, caressing her chin with one hand.

Still trembling, Mary let the dress fall and stood shivering in her undergarments.

"Pick up the dress."

Hands shaking, Mary bent low and scooped up the dress.

"Take it up stairs, and lay it across the couch."

Nodding meekly, Mary crept up the stairs with Jameson following close behind. A knot was forming in her throat with each step. Eyes nearly brimming with tears, she lay the dress gently on the couch at the foot of his bed.

"Good girl." Jameson said, patting her head like a child. "Now the rest of it."

"What?"

"The rest of your clothes." Jameson said. "Take them off and place them with your dress. Quickly if you please, before I lose patience."

"No."

Jameson gripped her gently by the shoulder and turned her around to face him. "No?"

"No." Mary said, her voice quivering. "I'm not a whore. If you wish to dishonor me then do so and be done with it. I warn you though, I will not submit any further without struggle. "

Gripping her chin firmly, Jameson lifted her face to look directly into her eyes. "If I were merely after your honor, I would have had it and been done with it already."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"Obedience."

"What does that mean?"

Jameson smiled warmly. "Let me teach you."

"I don't believe you."

Jameson's smile faltered, but only a little. "You make me sad. We shall do this the hard way then."

Mary pulled back, but Jameson was quicker. Grabbing her by the wrists he forced her onto the bed. Screaming, Mary kicked and clawed until he flipped her onto her stomach. Gripping her firmly by the back of the neck, he grabbed the flimsy material of her undergarments and ripped them savagely from her body. Straddling her, he settled his weight on her back and unbuckled his belt. Irate, Mary shrieked and twisted under him.

"Stop that infernal racket." Jameson said, pinning her wrists over her head with one hand. "No one can hear you and your theatrics are falling on deaf ears."

With his free hand he looped his belt around her wrists and tied it in a knot. Still gripping the belt, he pushed himself off the bed, dragging Mary with him. Tearfully, she fell to her knees, leaning heavily against his leg while struggling weakly against the make shift bonds.

"Now." Jameson said, his voice quiet. "Are you going to behave?"

Mary nodded, unable to voice a response.

"Good." Jameson said. Stepping back, he pulled Mary gently to her feet. Reaching up, he threaded the belt through the frame of the canopy bed. Pulling the belt tightly, he lifted Mary by her wrists until only her tiptoes touched the ground. Turning her around, he faced her away and ran his fingers lightly down her back, making her whimper.

"Now then, I'm inclined to be forgiving this evening. Unfortunately, I cannot allow your tantrum to go unpunished."

"Please." Mary begged, finally breaking down. "Please."

"That's a good start." Jameson said, walking over to the dresser. "You're learning."

Opening the top drawer, he pulled a new belt out and folded it double. Slapping the leather lightly against the palm of his hand he circled back to stand behind her. "Now then, are you going to behave?"

Mary twisted and wriggled helplessly, but there was no escape. "Yes."

Jameson reached up and pulled back her hair, with gentle pressure he pulled her head back until he could lean close to her ear. "Sir."

"Yes, sir." Mary whimpered.

"Good. Now then, let us begin with your instruction, shall we?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good, you learn quickly. You will always refer to me, in private, as 'sir'. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. First things first. As long as you are willful, you will be called 'pet'. When you have demonstrated that you can be properly obedient, you will be elevated to 'girl'. As my pet, you will be obedient. The only words you are allowed are 'yes sir' and 'no sir'. You are only allowed to speak when I direct you to, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"There is one exception to the previous rule: courtesy and manners are very important to me. You will always remember your manners when you are with me. Please, thank you, etc. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Now then. Before we proceed any further, there is the matter of your punishment."

Mary whimpered, her body shaking. "Please, sir."

"Now, now, pet." Jameson said, releasing her hair. "I already told you, it's far too late for that. Now. Be a good pet and spread your legs."

Fighting back tears, Mary did as she was told. Balancing on her tiptoes, she spread her legs as far as she could.

"Very good pet." Jameson said. With a grin, he flipped the belt lightly between her legs, making her gasp as the leather slapped over her womanhood. "Now then, I'm going to lay this strap across your backside until I feel you've been suitably punished. All you have to do is count off each stroke."

"Yes sir." Mary said, knees shaking as she tried not to pull away.