The Science of Submission

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The Science of Submission Page 11

by Victoria Winters


  Lord Cavendish chuckled. “We are heading to America, of course.”

  Marjorie’s eyes widened with excitement. “America!” she exclaimed. “I have always wanted to see America.”

  Stefan was pleased by her positive reaction. “Yes, we have a spot of business to take attend to in Boston and then we will return to England straight away.”

  Marjorie looked off into space and repeated, “Boston,” a word so glamorous she could hardly bear it. She had caught his use of the word “we”. She would be helping him with his business? Excitement swelled within her, she had yearned for adventure and had long ago despaired of ever experiencing any. Yes, she could get used to this life very quickly. Whatever her kidnapper/master/fiancé had in mind was fine by her.

  After breakfast, Stefan returned Margie to the nursery and headed back to his quarters to once again get out the dossier and work on planning the upcoming mission. He frowned as he realized that Marjorie’s participation was going to be necessary. She would need to be upgraded from “little one” to “partner-in-crime” and quickly. He had seen it, her thirst for adventure. It emanated from her like a bright light. The trouble was, he was coming to care for her very deeply. The thought of putting her in danger tugged at his heart. Even when abducting her, her safety had been of the utmost importance to him. She was quick though, and highly intelligent. He was certain that the lady could take care of herself in most circumstances. Yes, without a doubt they would make quite a formidable team the two of them, he thought, looking into the future.

  Chapter Twelve

  Margie looked askance at her nanny as she was being dressed for dinner. The little girl clothing was becoming increasingly annoying. She grimaced as her nanny once again produced a little sailor’s dress.

  “Nanny, what happened to the clothing I was wearing when I came on board? Is it really necessary to go on wearing these little girl dresses?” she asked. Her nanny gave her a warning glare.

  “Do you need to be taken over my knee for a reminder of your status on board this yacht?” she asked.

  “I do believe my status has changed, and for the better,” Marjorie announced.

  Nanny pulled the saucy little miss over her lap, lowered her drawers and delivered a painful reminder that she was still a little one who had a nanny. Marjorie’s dignity was no match for Nanny’s mechanical arm and within a short amount of time she had been once again reduced to little girl status, wriggling over her nanny’s lap and wailing.

  “I’m afraid you will be late for dinner tonight, little miss,” her nanny said, after Margie had settled down and accepted her spanking. She inserted her mechanical finger deeply inside of the child’s bottom and kept her in place for an especially long, drawn out temperature taking. Lord Cavendish had taken to the peep hole when the two women were late for dinner and saw that Margie was being punished by her nanny.

  He chuckled, it would do the young woman no harm to be kept off base and uncertain of her status. He intended to keep her as his little one as well as his wife. She had to learn how to walk that fine line and when to embrace the child within.

  Afterwards, she dressed little Margie in especially childish apparel. She produced a little sailor’s hat to wear with her little dress. It was more of a childish bonnet though and Margie hated it. She could not stop crying. She had been treated as a woman by her master but now she had once again been reduced to the status of a small child by her nanny.

  Professor Pretzer looked at her charge. Marjorie was most unhappy at the reminder of why she needed a nanny. But, the young woman had indeed returned to her adult self emotionally. She supposed she deserved to be told the truth.

  “Your dress has been cleaned and tucked away for safe keeping. It will be returned to you when we reach our destination. Until then this is all there is and the clothing is comfortable, is it not?”

  “Well, yes,” Marjorie allowed as to how that was true. She’d become accustomed to being laced in corsets when out in public and it felt somewhat scandalous to be going about unbound, her large breasts bouncing about under her bodice. Most shameful of all was the lace edging of her bloomers peeking from beneath her dress. She frequently found herself flushing in shame when a passing sailor lowered his eyes to take in her legs and the hem of her bloomers. She could only imagine what ideas her infantile apparel put into his head.

  “Besides, Lord Cavendish likes seeing you in these little dresses. Shall we humor him for now?”

  Marjorie looked at Nanny Trinka standing behind her as they gazed into the looking glass.

  “Keeping Stefan happy is indeed a desirable state of affairs,” she agreed.

  “It is good that you understand that,” Nanny Trinka said approvingly. There was no question that the young woman was more than just intelligent, but wise and flexible as well. She had grasped her predicament, had adapted to it and was making the best of the situation. Perhaps she truly was the perfect little one for Stefan.

  That night Nanny Trinka and Captain Andersson joined Stefan and Marjorie for dinner. They discussed the crossing and Marjorie learned that they would arrive in America in another few days. While they walked on the deck after dinner enjoying the ocean breezes and the stars overhead, Marjorie noticed that Stefan seemed more quiet than usual.

  “Is something wrong, my lord?” she asked and then awaited his reply.

  “There is something we must speak of.” He stopped and took Marjorie’s hands in his and studied her for a moment, then seemed to reach a decision. “You need to know what to expect when we arrive in America.” He led her down below deck to this cabin. “Sit down, Marjorie. We have much to discuss,” he said, showing her to a chair.

  While Marjorie was flattered to be taken into his confidence, she was also surprised that he hadn’t shown her to the bed instead. The sexual tension between them had been simmering all evening. As he began to speak, she found herself becoming distracted by his lips, imagining them trailing down her neck, past her shoulders to her breasts and coming to rest with a nipple in his mouth. Suddenly she was shaken out of her reverie by the shocking words coming out of his mouth.

  “… my secret society,” he was saying. He went on, “They have given me a mission to carry out, one that may well involve some danger.”

  “Why Stefan!” she interrupted. “Whatever are you referring to? Are you saying that we may encounter danger upon our arrival in America?” She tried to look into his eyes and keep her mind off his lips. The conversation was becoming intriguing.

  “Yes, my dear. I am sorry to say that I require your cooperation to successfully carry out my mission, which may very well put us in harm’s way. I will share with you the details. The final decision, of course, is yours and I will fully understand if you chose to remain uninvolved.”

  “Stefan, dear, I understand. Just tell me what’s going on and together we will face the danger.”

  Stefan smiled at her with appreciation and put his hand on hers. He spoke at length, sharing it all. He told her about the necklace and how it had come to be in American hands. He showed her the replica and his plan for retrieving it for the crown. She did not hesitate in her desire to want to help. They talked until dawn, fine tuning Stefan’s plans.

  As the morning light was coming through the porthole, Stefan and Marjorie made love. This time, their coupling was slow and languid. Stefan’s tongue traced patterns down Marjorie’s body. She too explored her master with her tongue, taking his manhood in between her lips and sucking on it until Stefan was moaning with need. This is what Dr. Davenport had wanted her to do and her master also seemed to like it very much. She sucked on him until he began to quiver with need.

  Abruptly he pulled away and lowered his head to her abdomen, running his lips across her baby soft skin. He reached her shaven mons and his tongue snaked out as he began to make love to her with his mouth. He explored her naked little pussy thoroughly with his tongue and lips, exploring her womanhood, consuming the cream she was producing. She began to
moan and to lift her torso off the bed towards his mouth wanting more of the sensations he was producing with his skillful tongue. She began to buck as his tongue plunged in and out of her. Then he began to lick her repeatedly until she lost her reason and cried out, stars exploding behind her closed eyelids.

  Quickly he turned her over on to her hands and knees and found that her buttocks were red and shining up at him. Clearly she had received a spanking from her nanny that very day. He found the sight to be incredibly stimulating and he drove into her from behind, pounding into her luscious pussy with his strongest thrusts. He wrapped her hair around his fist so that she was forced to hold up her head as he thrust into her over and over again. She found that she adored it when he handled her with a little roughness, mastering her as they coupled. She drove back against him and cried out her pleasure as they reached their culmination.

  Afterwards Stefan lay beside Marjorie as she slept. He was wide awake, pondering the effect that the delightful Lady Hamilton was having upon those around her. The path that she had been on when he met her, using her powers for evil instead of good in a desperate bid for security, was now behind her. As his wife, she would be secure beyond her wildest dreams, both emotionally and financially. And in return she had become her true self, a gentle sweet creature who submitted to him body and soul. He knew without a doubt that he had found the life partner he had been searching for.

  He rose carefully so as not to disturb her, and redressed. Then he slipped out of his cabin and went off in search of the captain to ask him to be prepared to preside over their marriage ceremony when the time was right. He found Captain Oskar Andersson in his cabin. The captain warmly invited his lordship in for a chat.

  “And how is your ward enjoying the voyage?” the captain asked. He knew that things had changed between Lord Cavendish and little Margie, he had seen them kissing under the stars the night before. He introduced the subject in the hopes that Lord Cavendish would bring him up to date.

  “Little Margie and I, well she isn’t as young as she appears,” he replied sheepishly.

  “Yes, I could see that when I got up close to her. Is that how she is required to dress at her school?” the captain innocently asked.

  Stefan cleared his throat. “Yes, that is why we keep her dressed as a little one, although she is of age.”

  “I have to confess, sir, that I saw the two of you kissing on the aft deck the other night. Are congratulations in order?”

  “Yes, they are, thank you my good man. We are going to be married.”

  “I would be flattered to do the honors,” the captain offered hopefully. There was nothing he liked better than to preside at a wedding.

  “Good, good then. Be prepared to do so with very little notice. We will hold our nuptials as soon as the time is right. In the meantime, by your estimation, when will we arrive in America?”

  “By my estimation, we should be pulling into Boston Harbor in two and a half days, sir,” the captain replied.

  “Excellent, that is excellent. I want the Felicitous Fortune to appear to be an American ship as soon as we reach American waters. Change the name of the ship to the Bostonian Bay and fly the American flag. Also, once we arrive, Marjorie and I will be staying at a hotel in town. Do not attempt to reach us during that time. Professor Pretzer will keep you abreast of our time frame while we are in Boston. Keep the yacht prepared for a quick departure after we have been there for one week,” Stefan ordered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next two days passed by quickly and soon the yacht pulled into Boston Harbor right on schedule. Per Stefan’s request, the Felicitous Fortune was disguised as an American vessel renamed the Bostonian Bay. Marjorie was thrilled to once again don the clothes she had been abducted in. Her blue suit trimmed in black, was the height of fashion and she was pleased to see that it hadn’t been damaged during her abduction. When they disembarked, Stefan and Marjorie did their best to impersonate American accents as they met with the harbormaster. The only glitch came when the fellow chided them for their American flag being short a star.

  “You’ll have to update that flag, sir. Colorado has been ratified, you know.”

  Stefan frowned, an error like that, while seemingly inconsequential could sabotage everything. He made a mental note to buy the correct flag as soon as they disembarked. Stefan and Marjorie weren’t even required to pass through customs. They strolled to the nearest hotel and checked in using aliases, calling themselves the Duke and Duchess of Hampfordshire.

  Their next stop was the Guggenheim Museum to see the necklace in its current locale. They strolled through the museum like any other tourists, but their royal bearing and British accents drew attention. Soon they found themselves invited into the office of the Director of the Museum, a rather pompous man by the name of Julian Michaels who seemed thrilled to find himself playing host to visiting British royalty—a Duke and Duchess no less! To Stefan’s amusement they found themselves being invited to the reception for the departing Jewel of the Mediterranean.

  They assured the director that they would entertain the notion of attending and he whisked them away to see the necklace. Marjorie, on cue, exclaimed in amazement that she had a similar necklace which she never before realized must be a reproduction.

  As she and the director discussed the cycle of jewelry styles, he encouraged her to wear the necklace should they attend the reception so that they could compare it to the original. As they chatted, Stefan studied the security around the necklace. It was under a locked glass case that was affixed to the wooden platform it was sitting on. Presuming it would be held under lock and key, Stefan had come prepared. He reached inside his pocket and slid out a key-making kit.

  At just that moment, he heard a clomping and a whirring. Professor Pretzer, with impeccable timing, had come along to provide an impressive distraction. It worked like a charm, even the politest of people could not resist stopping and staring as she clomped by, her telescoping eye taking in all the various works of art on display. The Museum Director and the nearby security guard both turned and took a step or two in her direction. Stefan dropped back, and working quickly, squirted a quick setting resin into the lock and carefully withdrew it. It would set up into a usable key with which he could open the case at just the right moment during the reception. On cue, Marjorie turned to Stefan, blocking his movements from the security guard and the director as he finished. He handed her the resin key and she hid it in a pocket sewn into her skirt.

  Together they took their leave of the director, whom they had tricked right under his nose, thanking him for his kind invitation and promising to attend. “Be sure to wear that replication, my dear,” he called after them. “I should be interested in seeing it.”

  Marjorie turned and waved goodbye to him and they walked off down the street.

  “Well, that went well, I daresay,” she said as they turned the corner and met up with the professor. The three of them headed towards the hotel, congratulating themselves on a fact-finding mission gone well.

  The next day, he took Marjorie shopping for a proper Bostonian wardrobe. One of the dresses that he selected was an elegant ballgown, the same dark blue as the necklace. As Marjorie modeled it for him, he found himself quite distracted from the mission at hand by how delectable she looked in the fashionable gown. Practically all he had seen her in for the last few weeks was her little sailor dresses. Seeing her wearing a dress that showed off her hourglass figure quite took his breath away. The deep blue was the same color as the necklace, and her eyes, for that matter. He could not take his eyes off of her.

  “Perfect,” he pronounced the dress, to Marjorie’s pleasure. If it was so distracting to him, it would also be distracting to the other gentlemen in attendance, including security. He smiled as she selected a pink day dress and a set of long skirts and bodices that could be interchanged throughout their stay.

  They returned to the hotel to find that they had callers. Apparently the Museum Director had bra
gged about his new royal friends and the matrons of Boston society had picked up on it. Not to be outdone by Julian Michaels, some of Boston’s society elite were calling upon them with invitations to various events being held during their visit. To Stefan and Marjorie’s amusement, they discovered that apparently Americans liked nothing more than to have British nobility at their parties.

  A plump socialite dripping with jewels, by the name of Mrs. Darling, started to chat about the museum reception for the Jewel of the Mediterranean. She shared with them that it was a final viewing of the necklace for the upper crust of Boston society before it was to be transported to its new destination.

  “We are so sorry to be saying goodbye to that necklace, the Jewel of the Mediterranean. It was a gift from your country to ours, you know. It would be just so fitting if you and your wife should attend the reception to represent the British, so to speak.” she added, encouraged by Stefan’s show of interest. “Your Queen Charlotte gave it to our Martha Washington after the Revolutionary War. It was a most gracious gesture, a show of good will from your people to ours.” Stefan nodded in agreement. Encouraged, she continued.

  “We will all see it with our own eyes one last time before it is locked away and put into a shipping container to be sent to a brand new museum on the west coast in the harbor of San Francisco. The wild west!” she said, shaking her head as if she did not approve. ”Hardly the place for an item of such historical value. Foolishness, I say. If the necklace isn’t intercepted by Indians, it will probably be taken by train robbers.” She began fanning herself as if the very thought of it made her want to swoon dead away. Then she added, “Although I am assured that it is being transported by armed US Marshals.”

  Hearing that, Stefan realized that the necklace would have to be taken before it fell into the hands of the US Marshals.

  “Well, it should be safe then,” Marjorie nodded, shooting a glance at Stefan. At his look of concern, she plied the woman for more information. “Do go on,” she murmured, offering the chubby matron more fresh scones that she had found at a delightful little bakery near their hotel. “It sounds very beautiful. What does it look like?” she asked innocently.

 

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