AUTHOR'S NOTE: Gayle had just walked into Hamish's library on the night of her first 'official' punishment.
I know this is short, but it's been three weeks, and unfortunately real life bit us so Scooter and I agreed to make this short just to put something out there. The next chapter is almost done so there won't be another three week wait.
Hope you enjoy, and thanks for the comments.
CHAPTER TEN
FRIDAY EVENING, Hamish's Library
Gayle's mouth dropped when she saw the same massage table he bound her to on Monday, but the thin, wooden arms and legs were gone. On top toward the end was a round paddle leaning against four restraints, and she could see one side was furry while the other had some dimpled material on it. Beyond that she saw a blanket in front of the fireplace, a lone log burning brightly, though it added no heat to the sudden chill that crept through her bones.
Fridays were now her least favorite day of the week.
"Join me, Ms. Boyce."
Nervously she approached him, her feet barely able to move forward by her own free will.
"Do you know why we are here?" The harsh tone in his voice scared her to death, though it didn't show in his eyes.
She could only nod.
"And what might those reasons be?"
She knew exactly what they were. Trying to keep her voice from quivering, she replied, "I masturbated in my room, came when you told me not to and mouthed back on Wednesday."
"Yes, those are right. I think five for the first two then fifteen for Wednesday." He chuckled. "That wasn't a very good day for you, was it?" She was in no mood to laugh. "That's 25. What else?"
"Whaaaa ... 25?!! You can't be serious!" she gasped.
"Oh, I am quite serious, lass. What else?" Wracking her brain, she started to panic. He gave her a soft, reassuring smile. "No, none of that. Trust me. It seems you've forgotten your faux pas at the lack of waxing?"
She gave him a look of horror.
"Yes, exactly. Worry not. The spanking in the kitchen was sufficient."
She relaxed somewhat, though she cringed at the thought of the 25. She started to twist her fingers anxiously.
"What else did I tell you?"
Again she was put on the spot, and she hated it. She shook her head.
"I told you that I would take it easy on you, so stop twitching."
She sighed, though it gave her no relief to know she wasn't going to be flayed alive.
Reaching behind him he grabbed a single restraint. "Give me your hand."
Gathering all the courage she could muster, she put out her hand and watched him wrap the furred restraint around her wrist and lock it in place. When he reached behind him for the second cuff, she automatically put out her other hand. Her heart started to pound as reality set in.
Not saying a word, he grabbed the other two cuffs and secured them around her ankles. "Step out of the slippers, please." After she did, he pulled out a blindfold from his pocket. "This blindfold, I'm hoping, will help you with not seeing what's coming. It's best to not know. But as I promised, I will tell you when I've started and when I've stopped."
"Thank you, Sir. I'd appreciate that." She didn't, not really. She'd rather see what was coming at her, but she had admitted to him that she'd have to trust him. Lesson number one, dear, she told herself.
When he put it on, he asked if she could see; she could not. With his help, he instructed her to get on the table in the 'down' position -- on her knees, her breasts to the table, hands grasping her ankles. He then snapped the hooks together from each wrist to each ankle and stepped back admiring the view. He could hardly contain himself at seeing her luscious ass presented to him in such a manner. His slowly growing, hardening cock was proof of that.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked as he stood by her shoulders, his hand on the small of her back to give her what little comfort he could.
NO! she thought, even though it wasn't as bad as she feared it would be. With the blindfold on her hearing tripled, which only added another level of apprehension. She could feel her heart begin to pound harder, as her chest was flush against the table.
"Yes Sir."
"Gayle," he said softly; his voice filled with gentleness. "Remember you may use yellow and red. Tell me what they mean." She correctly told him. "Very well."
Brushing her hair aside that had gotten tangled with the blindfold strap, he wished he could see the look in her eyes to pick up on how she was feeling. But it wasn't necessary. Stepping back, he slowly ran his hands from her ankles up to her thighs, letting his fingernails torment her to the point of goose bumps breaking out. He couldn't help but grin as she whimpered softly when he purposefully dug his nails into her fleshy, luscious ass cheeks. Her fingers flexed a few times before fisting tightly, almost to the point of her knuckles turning white.
"Gayle, love, loosen your hands." After she did, he said, "I'm just enjoying the softness of your skin, its warmth, its reaction. I will let you know when the punishment will commence. Understood?"
"Yessssir, un ... derstood," she replied, barely above a quiet sigh.
For the next several minutes, he continued to caress her skin, trailing his nails from her shoulders to the small of her back. She hadn't moaned or voiced her pleasure, which disappointed him greatly. There was nothing more exciting and a cock-hardener than hearing the whining and whimpering of a woman enjoying his hands on her body.
Taking the paddled, he twirled it sideways in his hand, and an odd desire of wanting to play a game of Tennis. Tossing that thought out of his head, he rubbed her ass again.
"Ms. Boyce, I will begin now," he said delicately, not wanting to frighten her. Still, her entire body tensed. "No, no. None of that. Relax. Count off each stroke."
It took a moment of caressing the furred side of the paddle over her thighs and ass until he saw her hands unclench. At that point, he knew she was ready.
Flipping the paddle over to the dimpled side, he made contact with the area between her ass and thigh, but the swing had no more power behind it than a love pat on a baby's bottom. Regardless, she gasped and tightened up her ass cheeks. It took all he had not to laugh because she was exactly where he wanted her. In her mind it was going to hurt like hell so she'd set herself up for the impact.
"One?"
He smiled at her trepidation. Oh, you don't know me at all, lass, he thought.
Tap.
"Two?"
Still he was met with the same question of whether that was a real paddle or not because it didn't hurt at all. But it was far from what she was expecting; it hardly stung at all.
TAP. Tap.
"Three. Four."
Many more slightly harder paddles later and at the count of twenty, her ass cheeks had pinkened very nicely, to Hamish, anyway. He rubbed her cheeks with the furred side for a minute to give her a break. Her breathing was then shallow, and thankfully she didn't seem to be too overwhelmed.
"Color, Ms. Boyce?"
"Green, Sir."
"Good. Good. Just five more to go. Are you up for it?"
"Yes Sir."
He smiled and gave her three more slaps a bit harder than before, though nothing close to what he could really do. Only then did she start to moan and squirm, her bum gyrating and clenching in time to the throbs of pain and pleasure that were coursing through the cheeks, said cheeks now being the lovely reddy pink that he wanted them.
He stopped and stood beside her, gently massaging her shoulders. "I will give you two that will be much harder, but I think you can take it. Are you ready?"
"I think so, Sir."
"No, no. 'Think so' is not an acceptable answer."
She took a moment before she replied, "I'm ready, Sir."
"Good girl."
Standing by her feet once more, he smacked each cheek harder, much harder.
"Uggh ... God! Fuck!!" she gasped loudly as her body lurched forward but didn't go anywhere. Curling her toes and fisting her hands, she continued to whine and attempted to force the sting away.
"Gayle, I'm going to free you now. Just breath deeply and try to relax."
Putting the paddle on the floor, he unlocked the restraints carefully so as not to hurt her, but didn't remove them from her wrists and ankles. "Bring your arms up slowly, but it'd be best if you keep your legs as they are."
She didn't reply but did as she was told, grunting at the stiffness in her shoulders and neck, even though she wasn't in the position for longer than fifteen minutes. Resting her hands above her head, when he removed the blindfold she covered her eyes from the sudden brightness.
Knowing she'd need some time to get off the table, he massaged her neck muscles. "Now take it easy, slow your breathing." She grumbled then nodded. "You did well."
Again she muttered something, but he didn't ask her to repeat it. He simply continued to massage her shoulders and wrists to ease the knots from her muscles after all the pulling that she'd done.
It was several minutes before she said, "Um, that wasn't so bad."