The Training of Scarlet Worthy
Read The Training of Scarlet Worthy Online
Authors: Sara Plum
THE TRAINING OF SCARLET WORTHY
BY
SARA PLUM
Genre: Erotica & Romance, Consensual BDSM, Mystery, spanking: welcome to a hot world of smoky and very naughty independent women, and men that they love….
Length 81,535 words
BOOK 1
Copyright 2014 by Sara Plum
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. It is intended for the enjoyment of
adults only
.
Names, Characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Miss Scarlet Worthy
34 Singleton SW, London UK
August 31,
Lady Julia Sweeten - Roseau
Brighton Manor
Twilling, UK
M
y Dearest Lady,
I am writing to thank you for the time that you invested in me as I leave Brighton Manor. I’m a more complete woman because of your firm hand and sound guidance
.
I’m a woman of confidence, a strong woman
,
prepared to pursue all of my professional goals with a birth of energy and passion.
Although the terms of my departure were well explained by your Ladyship, I nonetheless regret that I will no longer be your pupil
,
languishing so deliciously on my knees before you. But, I will carry those sweet memories with me always
,
held in a secret place in my soul, a place that only you and I will be honored to visit.
The terms of my service are clear to me My Lady, and I understand my status
.
I embrace both as I do my contracted obligations. One of those terms, requires that I document my feelings and memories from my training while at Brighten Manor, and to chronicle my humility to you
.
Accordingly, what follows is a memoire of my four months of internship at Brighten
,
which upon commencement conferred upon me the status that I now so willingly embrace
.
Please accept this letter
,
along with the attachment
,
as the fulfillment of that requirement. Following your instructions, the attachment will remain locked in secrecy. Please accept both documents as my most grateful tribute to you as I move on in my new role. Finally
,
and as always, I pledge to serve you in gratitude and complete loyalty.
Sincerely yours
,
with all my Love,
Miss Scarlet Worthy
Chapter 5: Most Intimate Instructions
Chapter 7: My Lady takes me riding
Chapter 8: The Brighten Manor Tour
Chapter 9: My First Official Day
Chapter 10: A Life Changing Meeting
Chapter 11: The First Day of My New Life
Chapter 12: A Coming Out for Scarlet
Chapter 13: Scarlet Learns the Rules
Chapter 17: Scarlet’s Coming-Out Ceremony
Chapter 18: The Skillful Use of Power
Chapter 20: The Truth and My Future
The Beginning
The few people that now me would have never predicted that the red-haired mathematics nerd Sybil Smith would break from her conservative pattern and set upon that summer of adventure in southern England.
After all, in the four years that I spent in the all-girls University of Mount Holly in New England, I seldom ventured from my single dormitory cell, except to attend class or spend an un-quantified number of hours in the school Library. I was single-mindedly immersed in the challenge of advanced learning.
Growing up in rural Nebraska, I was tagged as a girl wired to the curiosities of life and its puzzles. However, my constant questions were unwelcome at home, and so I leaned to burry those questions, and my lurid curiosities in a secret place deep inside of me. My body was lonely for the touch of a sexual partner, but the circumstances of my rural isolation left me as chaste as a nun. Not so my mind, that was a different matter, I wore no habit or fingered beads in my imaginative sexual fantasies. My mind was a wicked concert hall, and my fingers danced on the piano keys of my body as frequently and as any well practiced classical diva.
My conservative family chastised me for my fixation with matters of a sexual nature. My curiosities were scolded, and I was urged to stifle such wicked idleness and concentrate on my chores. Idleness of mind was dismissed as sinful, and a wasteful fantasy. Wistful curiosity was not much use to a farm girl, I was told, and a nice girl would be best served to use her mind, and her hands in a way that was constructive to the group.
I was reminded that my birthright was to serve the needs of the members of the farm family, and my frequent failures branded me as
different
and as a consequence, I was publically shunned by all.
Sibyl is too quizzical, and prone to wicked thoughts. She’s unworthy, and a tainted excuse for a farm girl
.
That’s what they would say about me, while reminding me that mending clothes and tending to livestock was the more appropriate behavior for young Sibyl Smith.
I became more and more segregated from my family, banished to work in solitude. Loneliness became my childhood companion and books my escape. I read all that I could in what little spare time I was permitted. The few books that I had access were mostly reference materials, crop reports and farm catalogues. The exception, a few dozen mathematics and accounting books.
Numbers turned out to be my savior.
Begrudgingly, privately, my accounting of the assets of the farm was looked upon by my relatives with favor. I was good at it. On more than one occasion, by using my native curiosity and my acquired math skills, I was able to uncover errors in the statements issued by the local merchants. I loved nosing around and seeing if things added up.
It became a game for me and my naive curiosity paid off fore I was left alone to continue my studies. I read everything I could get my hands upon, and in time I was relieved from any manual labor, and released to study advanced finance so that my bookwork would further profit the family enterprise. My study skills transferred to my school work. I attacked my course work as a means to escape the farm and my dreary repressive family.
And so the bookworm Sibyl Smith became an honor student, and when I left High School, I placed at the top of my class. No one cheered for my accomplishments. I was branded as a disappointment for choosing academics over farm life. I knew that secretly they cared little for me, or my achievements - their disappointment fueled by the loss of my accounting skill.
But I was to be saved. This little red head was offered, and quickly accepted, a full academic scholarship to a small New England College for girls. I never looked back. I left town with no rearview mirror, my eyes now firmly fixed on attaining some form of personal acknowledgement. I needed some form of praise from anyone. Most of all I needed someone to love me.
***
My outstanding scholastic performance continued at Mount Holly College. I was well rewarded for my scholarship with numerous accolades, honors and medals. At least now I was somebody in academic circles. My diligence was rewarded with a full two year masters scholarship to the most prestigious University of higher learning in London.
I was excited for sure, but I was feeling so very one dimensional. I had made no real friends in college, and certainly no boyfriends. My personal life could easily be scored a zero.
Adding to my lonely and cloistered life, I had frighteningly neglected my appearance. I simply had to face it. I had let myself go. My red hair, once considered a borderline asset had become twisted, brittle and snarled as a pile of rusty barbed wire.
Ouch!
I thought.
That childhood image is too close for comfort
.
I had never worn makeup, and my formal wardrobe had diminished to a nondescript white blouse a green sweater, one brown and one black skirt, and a pair of black rubber flip flops. My underwear was equally sparse. I clung dearly to two dingy bras and a handful of weak cotton panties.
So there I was, a pitiful schlep armed with a fresh degree. I summoned all of what remained of my spirit and my naive curiosity, and I booked an early flight to London.
My poorly conceived plan was to spend a few months in England getting acquainted with the country, and quite frankly, with myself, before I began the new semester at University. I thought that I could find a simple job, simple lodgings, and use my spare time to travel the countryside.
Both of my presumptions would prove to be in error.
Upon arriving in London, I took the train south from Paddington Station to the town of Bath Spa, a small but beautiful town situated on the River Avon, and known for its once extravagant lifestyle.
In the 1700's the European nobility would indulge themselves in the warm waters of the ancient Roman spa the prompted the city's name. The hills overlooked the beautiful city and since it was also a tourist Mecca, I was confident that I would find a job in the service industry for the summer. I enquired everywhere, but I found the job market barren and the living quarters either nonexistent or beyond my simple means. I began to worry that I had stepped outside my boundaries. My pitiful savings were being devoured by the pricy room at the Old Abbey Hotel.
I needed work and I needed it soon.
It was an unseasonably warm on that fateful day in early spring. The sun felt good on my bare legs. I sat alone at a table of a small sidewalk cafe. The half-finished glass of wine relaxed my mind and I drifted once again through the pitifully scarce job section of the Bath Chronicle. My eyes drifted to a small block advertisement that I had never before seen posted in the paper.
It read:
Lady of select breeding, requires an unattached, and unencumbered young lady of intellect and ambition to provide personal service. The duties will be varied, including issuing correspondence on her behalf, accounting for the expenses of the Lady's estate and holdings, and other duties as required. Training for gaps in experience will be administered. Living expenses and suitable lodging will be provided to the successful candidate. Inquiry letters with a resume are to be sent to this paper. Prompt interviews will be arranged.
I swallowed the remainder of the wine and dashed toward my hotel with the paper rolled up and folded in my purse. Along the way my flip flops slapped on the cobblestones, as I crossed the ancient Poultney Bridge, passing the exquisite jewelry shops and a store that offered ancient maps and prints.
Well I am unattached? That's for sure
. I thought.
I rolled the words of the advertisement in my mind as I hurried.
Surely I am qualified to do the accounting. I just may be an expert, and free room and board and living expenses on an Estate? Wow!
The wind was in my face as I scooted down York Street. I ducked around the corner and turned south on Terrace Walk. I was getting more excited about the opportunity. I picked up the pace. The face of the Old Abbey Hotel appeared as I rounded the corner.
I’ll send the required documents today. No. I’ll hand carry them to the paper, that way my letter and my resume will be the first to be opened by the Lady. Lady who? I pondered. What did she mean by the words training for gaps in experience will be administered? What an odd way to phrase on the job training. No matter. I thought. Learning quickly, that’s one of my strengths.
I returned my attention to becoming the most eager candidate for the position.
The Meeting
After completing my letter of introduction, including the details of my current "at loose ends" status in Bath, I attached a resume. I grabbed my purse and dashed to the Bath Chronicle on James Street West. The clerk at the paper assured me that my petition to the Lady would be in her hands that day. I returned to the hotel and busied myself choosing the appropriate outfit for the interview - one that I was confident I would be summoned to attend.
