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Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Getting to grips with cooking, housework, and spankings! Mail Order Mary.

Mary's new life on Nathan Miller's Montana ranch is a far cry from her previous life at Ashford Hall in Victorian England, where she had a maid to attend to her needs, and servants to cook and clean. Her first foray into cooking is something of a disaster, and although Nathan tries to keep a straight face - he fails
Unfortunately, things didn't go quite according to plan. When Nathan approached the ranch house he wrinkled his nose. Something was burning. Stepping into the kitchen, he took off his Stetson and fanned the thick air with it. Mary was oblivious to his arrival. There she was, standing at the stove, wearing the gingham dress and one of Martha's calico aprons. With one hand she held a fork which she used to poke several blackened sausages sitting forlornly in one pan, and in the other hand she used a wooden spoon to prod some yellow-looking substance in a smaller pan. Every couple of seconds, the hot fat in the sausage pan would spit, and Mary would yelp and jump backwards. Nathan grinned, and was hard pressed not to laugh out loud.

"Say, Princess - looks like supper's ready."

She turned, her face flushed, gobs of sausage fat staining her apron. "Oh Nathan! I'm learning how to cook! I'm doing just fine... at least, I think I am." She looked at the black sausages. "Do you think these are done yet?"

"I should say so." Nathan's lips twitched. "I'll set a couple places for us at the table."

"Oh damn! I should have done that. It never even crossed my mind."

"No harm done." He reached for the cutlery, and then held out two plates. "Here ya go. Dish up."

Mary proudly levered out the charred sausages - two for her and six for Nathan. "Omelette next." She angled the pan to slide the omelette out. It didn't move. It just sat there in a big solid lump. "Oh that's odd. Martha said it should slide out of the pan and then I serve it folded over." She turned the pan completely upside down. The omelette remained firmly stuck to the bottom.

"Just get a knife to it," volunteered Nathan, and then winced as the knife bent under the strain of levering out the eggs.

They sat down to eat, and Nathan valiantly ploughed his way through the burnt offerings. Most of the food was just about edible, providing he sawed off the blackest bits of the sausages and accepted that the omelette was supposed to be a rubbery over-cooked blob.

"This corn bread is wonderful," he said, his mouth full of it.

"Martha made most of it," said Mary.

There was a poignant silence and then Nathan began to shake. At first, Mary thought he was ill. "Oh - Nathan - are you unwell?"

Lord's sakes woman, I will be by the time I've eaten this lot! "No," he said in a strange voice.

"No? Then why are you shaking? Oh - you ... you're laughing!"

Nathan couldn't keep it in any longer. He guffawed loudly and rocked, holding his belly. Mary stared at him, and then a little giggle escaped her.

"Is it that bad?"

"'Fraid so." Nathan snorted, tossed back his head and laughed until the tears prickled his eyes.

In spite of her misgivings, Mary had to smile. "Oh well, you can fill up on cornbread, and there's chicken broth and molasses cake left over from the midday meal - sour-dough biscuits too." It occurred to her that Martha had deliberately left her stocked up in case of a mishap with supper. She sighed and levelled a look at Nathan who was doing his best not to laugh but failing miserably. "I'm trying."

"You're very trying," he agreed, and cracked out laughing again.

This time, Mary joined in.

Mary tries to get to grips with domestic pursuits. Here's another extract ...

She even washed the bed linen ... only to ruin the best sheet with a big ugly brown scorch mark when she got the iron too hot.

"I should spank you for that," said Nathan. He gave her a look that was part exasperation, part tenderness, and part lust.

"Why don't you," she said, and then opened her mouth in shock. Why did I just say that?!

"Well, if you put it like that. Come here, Mary Grace." He sat on the sofa and patted the vacant space next to him.

She approached slowly, with downcast eyes, but when she darted a glance at Nathan, he didn't look remotely cross. On the contrary, he seemed pleased and surprised.

"Um, you aren't really going to spank me, are you?"

"Of course I am, woman. You don't for a minute think I'm going to let an opportunity like this slip through my fingers, do you?"

"Ah, but I didn't really mean it."

"Shucks. Too late. Over you go." He reached for her and in seconds she was once again in the most undignified position over his lap, her bottom waving in the air. He grinned at the sight and let his right hand rest for a moment on her cheeks, savouring the moment.

"I didn't mean to burn your sheet!"

"I know, and that's not why you're getting a spanking."

"Why am I getting one then?"

"Because you want one."

"Oh no I don't," she declared hotly ... yet even as she spoke the words she once again experienced those unfamiliar feelings of excitement and sexual desire.

"Oh but you do," he whispered huskily. His hand descended, not hard, but firm enough to be felt. Another spank was delivered, and another ... and another.

"Ohhh," gasped Mary as she felt her skirts being raised waist high, exposing her white cotton drawers. The realisation suddenly hit her that this was pleasant! It was more than pleasant ... she was enjoying it immensely, and the mere thought of him lowering her drawers made her shiver in anticipation, shame, and excitement. He was right - she did want a spanking!


Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

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