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Pretty Little Rose

By: Lucy Wild
Published By: Blushing Press
Copyright: 2017© Blushing Books® and Lucy Wild
Thirty-six Chapters / 46,100 Words
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She needs a simple lesson in etiquette and decorum. Her new tutor is about to teach her something much harder. Rose Winter might look like a Lord's daughter but she acts like a spoilt child. When a tutor is hired to show her how to behave like a proper lady, she decides to instead teach him a thing or two about bad behaviour

Titus Burlingham is renowned for turning brats into mature, respectable ladies. When he meets Rose for the first time, he's appalled by her refusal to grow up. But as their lessons together become more intense, he realises he wants her to stay little just for him. 

Rose soon learns to love submitting to her dominant tutor but when her parents announce they have found her a husband, she must make a decision. Will she grow up and become the delicate flower her parents desire, or will she accept a life of discipline and submission, blooming into her tutor's pretty little Rose forever? 

DISCLAIMER: This book contains domestic discipline, elements of age-play and power exchange, and explicit sexual scenes including anal play. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.

Chapter One


When the stones hit her bedroom window, Rose Winter was in the midst of a very important discussion. Ranged about her were her three best friends, all in fits of giggles. They had spent the evening together hidden away in her room, enjoying the opportunity to be apart from their parents and decide once and for all who was the most eligible bachelor in Yorkshire.

Geraldine was of the opinion that there could be no finer catch than Thaddeus Burlingham, heir to the enormous estate at Crossways, soon to follow his father into a seat in the House of Lords.

“Poppycock,” was Amelia’s response. “I could never marry him. He’d have his idiot brother hanging around the house and we’d get no peace at all. If you ask me, far better to go for Richard.”

“Richard Mayhew?” Enid replied. “But his estate is less than half the size of Thaddeus’s.”

“Size isn’t everything, Enid, my dear.”

They were still giggling when the window rattled behind them a moment later. Rose leapt to her feet. “He’s here! How do I look?”

She ran her fingers through her hair before pinching her cheeks to draw the colour out whilst her friends breathlessly nodded their approval. “Wish me luck,” she squeaked, running over to the window. She stopped with her fingertips on the handle, taking a deep breath and forcing the smile from her face. It was replaced by a look of cool nonchalance by the time she pushed open the window and leaned out.

The night was chilly. The heat of the summer had begun to fade just a few days before and Rose shivered as a zephyr brushed past. “Yes?” she asked, looking down imperiously on the form of a tall man in a riding suit, his hat tipped off his head in readiness for her appearance. 

The man bowed deeply as she stifled a giggle, Amelia whispering behind her, “Ask him if he thinks size is everything.”

“Good evening, Lady Winter,” he called up to her.

“Shush!” she snapped back, pressing a finger to her lips. “You will wake my parents. What do you want, Jonathan?”

“To see you, of course,” he replied, his voice lower than before. “You told me to come at this time, remember?”

“I will be down in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

She blew him a kiss before pulling the window closed and turning back to her friends. “This is it,” she said, doing her best to contain her excitement. “I will be a woman when I return.”

“A first kiss,” Geraldine sighed, picking up the nearest cushion and hugging it to her chest. “How exciting.”

“Promise us one thing,” Amelia said as Rose picked up her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“What’s that?”

“That you give us every tiny miniscule little detail of that kiss.”

Rose nodded. “If I come back, of course, he might just sweep me off my feet and elope with me somewhere.”

She left the room on a wave of their giggles, the sound of their excited voices gradually fading away as she tiptoed downstairs. The gaslight in the study lit the hallway. That was a bad sign. It suggested her father was still working. 

She paused by the edge of the study door, listening hard. No sound. With her breath held, she darted across to the other side, only exhaling when she leaned against the far wall. She was safe. He must have left the light on before retiring.

“Rose Winter,” his voice called out from the study. “Come in here this instant.”

She froze, her heart sinking. He had seen her then. “Yes, Father,” she said, walking into his study with her shoulders slumped, her face downcast. She glanced up in time to find him setting down his pen ready for her. “Anything amiss, Father?”

“You were sneaking out again, weren’t you?”

“No, Father, I promise. I was just going to get some fresh air.”

“What’s this, behind me?”

“A curtain, Father.”

Lord Winter frowned, folding his arms as he did so. “I do not find that amusing. That is a window, as you well know. They are the most delightful of inventions. Keep curtain makers in business for one thing. For another, they let in all the fresh air any noble lady could ever want in her lungs.”

“Yes, Father. I am aware of the purpose of a window.”

“Oh you are? Only, perhaps you might then explain why you need to go gallivanting outside when it is gone ten and all respectable people are indoors and settling down for the night?”

She looked at him closely. Did he know about Jonathan? He couldn’t, could he? “I was only going to take the air for a brief spell, Father. Surely, you do not judge me for that.”

“I don’t mind taking the air at all. But if that were the case, why did you feel the need to sneak past my study like a housebreaker in training?”

“For fun.”

“That is not amusing. Off to bed.”

“But, Father, please listen to me.”

“No buts. I know exactly why you went out at this time last week and the week before and I kept silent, hoping it was only a childish fancy that would pass. But three times with one man without a chaperone is not acceptable. For heaven’s sake, my girl, one time is unacceptable but three! I will not have you out again this night nor any other night. Bed is the place for unmarried girls when night comes and bed is where you’re going this instant. Is that clear?”

Rose opened her mouth to protest but closed it again as he leaned forwards, eyebrows raised, waiting for her counter argument. “Once you are married,” he continued, “you can gallivant all you wish for you will be my problem no longer. Until that day, you do as I say. Now off to bed.”

“Yes, Father,” she replied, walking round the desk to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Rose,” he replied, stroking her arm as she turned away. “Sleep well.”

She walked out of the study without looking back, heading upstairs and then into her bedroom, finding her friends in close conference around a contraband sweet loaf purloined from the kitchen just that afternoon.

“That was quick,” Geraldine said as Rose headed straight past her.

“I’m not done yet,” Rose replied, pushing open the window and swinging her leg over the sill. “If Father comes up, tell him I am fast asleep.”

She grabbed hold of the drainpipe, monkeying her way down it whilst her friends peered at her from above.

“She’ll be killed,” Geraldine said.

“I can’t look,” Amelia added, staring all the more closely at her descent.

“You look most undignified,” Enid called after her.

“Shush!” Rose hissed back up at them, almost losing her grip, her foot slipping from the brick as she descended the last few feet to the ground. She regained her grip and continued down, finally dropping with a bend of her knees, standing up to take a curtsey as a cheer went up from her bedroom. 

Spinning on her heels she faced Jonathan who was smiling admiringly back at her. “Not a fan of doors?”

“I like to make a memorable entrance,” she replied.

“That was more of a memorable exit but let’s not quibble. Shall we?”



Chapter Two


Rose felt as if she were floating rather than walking. To be by the side of such an eligible bachelor was a sheer delight. To be alone together for the third time without a chaperone was even more exciting. Best of all, though, was the knowledge that she was about to be kissed by a man for the first time in her life.

When he had thrown stones up at her window a month earlier, she had sent him away with his tail between his legs. Though her heart yearned for the kiss of any man, she knew better than to accept any proposal on the first instance even from someone as eligible as Jonathan Carlisle. But he came back once a week for a month until his persistence paid off and she finally agreed to walk out with him.

On that first evening, he had been the perfect gentleman, not once did he touch her, not even to kiss the back of her hand. Instead they had walked out for an hour, enjoying the heat of the summer that seemed not to fade with the sun but remain in the air long into the night. She recalled that first walk well afterwards and had little doubt it would always remain with her, even once they were wed. Oh, to be wed. It was delightful to dream of it and she dreamt of it often.

The second time together, they had linked arms ten minutes in. She had tiptoed out of the house, knowing her parents would never permit such a scandalous breach of decorum as to let her walk out with an unmarried man twice in as many weeks. 

They had talked and talked and talked and she had gone to sleep that night hovering six inches above the bed, floating on her own happiness, knowing that on their next meeting, he intended to kiss her. He had told her as much when they finally parted and she headed back inside.

That had been a week ago and each day had taken an absolute age to pass. She had invited her friends to be there on the night it was to happen, ready to boast of her experiences upon her return. She would be a woman. The first in her peer group. Certainly, Geraldine had claimed she been kissed six months before but by someone none of them knew which was very convenient and almost certainly untrue. 

Rose would be the first in her circle to become a woman, to know the touch of a man’s lips on her own, the one thing they all wanted more than anything else, the first step towards marriage.

“Are you all right?” Jonathan asked when Rose suddenly stopped by the entrance to the Royal Park. The gates were open.

“I could not be happier,” she replied. “Do you think the keeper forgot to lock them?”

“Or perhaps someone paid him a sum to keep them open that we might take a stroll inside.”

“Jonathan! You didn’t, did you?”

“I’m not saying I did anything. I’m just grateful for the chance of walking in a beautiful park without the risk of being disturbed by the hoi polloi.”

“And why wouldn’t we want to be disturbed?”

“Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

He slipped his arm around hers and together they passed through the gates and into the darkness of the park, far beyond the glow of the gaslights on the street behind them. 

“I have something I have been meaning to say to you,” Jonathan said after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh, yes?”

“Yes, I am not quite sure how to word it though.”

“What is it?” Rose asked, stopping and turning to face him, only his silhouette visible in the darkness.

“You are a beautiful woman,” he said, his hand moving to her side. “A very beautiful woman.”

Then why do I feel like a child? Rose thought, her heart pounding so hard, she thought it might burst. His hand was on her side. His hand was touching her. Her legs felt weak at the prospect of him kissing her. Was this it? Was he about to do it? “Thank you,” she said, angry with herself for the noticeable tremor in her voice.

“I must confess I did not bring you to the park merely to walk alone and undisturbed.”

“You didn’t?” Don’t sound too eager, she thought. Let him make the move. This is it, you are about to be kissed.

“No, I didn’t.” His hand slid round her back, drawing her towards him. He nodded his head down towards her and Rose reached up on tiptoes, closing her eyes ready.

When his lips pressed against hers, she was surprised and then shocked. Surprised, first of all, because she had been told the first kiss would be soft and gentle and this was nothing like that, his cold wet lips were pressing hard against hers and there was nothing gentle about it. The shock she felt moments later was caused by her complete lack of feeling anything romantic at all. She had expected her heart to soar, angels to fly past blowing trumpets, the ground to move beneath her. All she felt was his wet cold lips and the slightest scent of something unpleasant, something she couldn’t quite place. Had he had fish for dinner?

She went to pull away from him but he held her so firmly in place, she could not move. Nor could she breathe. She tried to tell him to stop but he only pressed his lips harder to hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth like a dead fish, cold and slippery and utterly alien. 

All of a sudden, she wanted to leave the park. She wanted to go home. This was wrong, this was all wrong. She tried to pull away from him again but he ignored her, his hands sliding down the back of her cloak, reaching under it, groping her through her dress, seeking out her bottom, his hands gripping her tightly despite her attempts to break free from his grasp.

“Stop,” she managed to mutter but he ignored her, pressing himself into her and moving her downwards with him, forcing her towards the ground. “Stop, Jonathan, let me breathe.”

“Hush,” he whispered back. “Don’t be afraid. It is all right to want this. I’ve wanted it since the moment I first laid eyes upon you.”

“I don’t want this,” she said as his lips pressed against hers again. She twisted her head away from him but he moved with her, kissing her cheek with those cold lips of his again and again. She could feel his body pressing into hers as she was pushed down onto the grass below her. Laid on her back with his bulk pressing on top of her, she fought to free herself, trying to push him off with her arms flailing. “Get off me!”

“It’ll be over soon,” he said, reaching down towards his waist, fumbling with his trousers. “Don’t fight it. It’s fine, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know you want this as much as me. Just keep still.”

“No,” she hissed. “Let me up or I’ll scream.”

“You won’t,” he snapped, his eyes flashing in the darkness, “unless you want to feel the back of my hand.”

“Would you like to feel the back of mine, sir?” a deep voice asked in the darkness.

Rose glanced past Jonathan. There was a figure towering over them both, hardly visible in the gloom. He must have been surefooted for she had not heard him approach. Before she had a chance to react, the figure had taken hold of Jonathan and was lifting him into the air, leaving him dangling for a brief moment, his legs kicking ineffectually at nothing. 

“Who the devil are you?” Jonathan snapped. “Unhand me this instant.”

“As you wish,” the figure replied, dropping him to the ground with a thud.

Jonathan leapt to his feet, his trousers falling to his ankles as he did so. Rose couldn’t help but let out a terrified giggle at the sight, covering her mouth as Jonathan scowled at her before turning his attention back to the shadowy figure looming over him. “You will regret that. I was boxing champion in my year at Eton.”

Jonathan’s fist lashed through the air but the figure easily ducked away from it, landing a swift punch of his own a moment later. “Perhaps you should have spent more than a year there,” the figure said, landing a second punch in Jonathan’s midriff, causing him to buckle forwards, the breath forced out of his lungs. “You might have learned a little about how to treat a lady.”

Rose had been frozen in place throughout this exchange but as the figure moved towards her, she scrambled to her feet. “Look out!” she shouted as Jonathan threw a punch at the back of the figure’s head. 

He spun round, leaning back as the flying fist swept through the air where his head had been a moment ago. “You need more lessons, do you?” He reached out and caught Jonathan’s arm in the blink of an eye. He forced it backwards, Jonathan letting out a strangled squeak of pain. “It is bad manners to attack a man when his back is turned. In the navy, they would snap your arm for such an offence. Though we are on land, perhaps I should carry out the punishment anyway.” He twisted the arm further back on itself as he continued. “What do you think?”

“No, no,” Jonathan begged, waving his other arm frantically. “I’m sorry, please, don’t.”

The figure laughed, letting go of his arm. “I think it’s time you headed home,” he said. “Parks can be dangerous places after dark. Ne’er do wells tend to come out at night, don’t you agree?”

“Y…y…yes,” Jonathan stuttered. “Couldn’t agree more. Goodnight, Rose. Goodbye.”

“Wait,” Rose called after him as he sprinted off into the night. “You would leave me with this…this…” Her voice faded away to nothing.

“This what?” the figure said, turning back to her once more, his face shrouded in shadow. “This man who just saved you from being one more crime statistic in the ledger of the Assizes? This knight in shining armour who put his life and looks on the line for you? The dashing fellow who thought only of assisting a damsel in distress?”

“The complete stranger who might do anything to me,” she replied, taking a wary step backwards from him.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself,” he said with a chuckle. “Even if you were my type, which you’re not, the only ladies worth picking up after dark normally charge an exorbitant fee.”

“How dare you, sir! Are you suggesting I am a lady of the night?”

“I am suggesting nothing. I am sure you were on the ground in the park in the middle of the night with him on top of you with his trousers undone for a perfectly respectable reason.”

“I do not like your tone, sir.”

“Well, you needn’t listen to it anymore. Off you go home.”

“You are infuriating!”

“Yet you’re still here.”

“Oh, I’m going, you can count on that,” Rose said, turning away from him and marching back towards the park entrance. She looked back when he coughed loudly.

“One more thing,” he shouted after her. “You might want to rethink the company you keep.”

She spun on her heels and stomped away.

“And get that dress cleaned,” his fading voice called out one last time. “Those grass stains might reveal more than you want about your perfectly innocent stroll in the park.”


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