*****Chapter 9*****
I came downstairs to find Tamsyn pottering in the kitchen, still wearing my old white t-shirt. It looked cute on her, so I wasn't complaining. It went down to about mid-thigh, her bare legs poking out the bottom and leaving me guessing as to what was beneath. Clearly she wasn't wearing any shorts.
I sat at the table and watched her for a bit as she danced around gathering supplies - it looked like she was going to bake something. She noticed me watching and preened a bit, tucking her hair behind an ear and smiling to herself.
"I have to ask, do you usually wear that shirt when you sleep, or do you only put it on when you fantasise about me?"
Now that we weren't caught up in the moment, she had the grace to look embarrassed. She didn't answer the question, deflecting with "Do you prefer cranberries or raisins?"
"Cranberries." I continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer.
She pretended nothing was up. Eventually, under the weight of my stare she asked "Can I help you?" in a professional manner, like a cashier behind the counter at a cafe.
I had an idea. "Actually yeah, would you mind passing me a vase? It's up on the top shelf behind you."
She turned and saw it, having to reach up on tip-toes to stretch for it. As intended, this made the back of her (my) shirt ride up, exposing her beautiful derriere to me. I was disappointed to learn that she was, in fact, wearing panties.
"You know what? Never mind, I don't need it."
She turned around to look at me. I blinked back innocently.
"You know, if you want to perv on my butt all you need to do is ask."
"I was actually just checking to see if you had deigned to wear any underwear this afternoon."
"What would you have done if I wasn't?"
I hadn't thought that far ahead. "Probably complimented myself that you feel so comfortable around me, then sat back and appreciated the view."
She stared at me for a little, one hand on her hip. Then she shrugged and slipped them off. She crouched down in a ladylike fashion, picked up her panties, and padded over to me.
"I'll trade them for the shirt," she said suavely. She tucked her panties into my collar, then turned and walked back into the kitchen, the hem of her shirt dancing tantalisingly with each step but exposing no more than a miniskirt would. She turned, swirling around with just enough speed to lift the hem without exposing anything exotic, as if she had practiced that move a thousand times.
"Do you need anything else from the top shelf?" she challenged me to ask, a twinkle in her eye.
This was clearly an attempt at asserting dominance. I wasn't going to give her the upper hand like that, and based on the videos she'd been sending me, I don't think she would've wanted me to. So instead I went for a reversal: "You know, I don't think I'll accept that trade. And since I don't remember saying you were allowed to borrow that shirt, I'm thinking maybe I should confiscate it."
She laughed sarcastically, then saw the look in my eye. Her eyes widened. "But I'm not wearing anything else."
I dropped her panties at my feet, then stood up and walked towards her slowly. "That sounds like a you problem."
She scanned the room, looking at the exits and making calculations.
"Of course," I said, "if you don't want to get punished for resisting arrest, you could turn yourself in and hand over the shirt willingly."
I saw her nipples harden against the fabric as she pondered complying with my offer, but she was far too prideful to accept. "Good luck, as if you'd ever be able to catch me", she said, and bolted. I understood this was code for 'I want to be chased and eventually caught and/or punished.' I was happy to oblige.
We raced around the lounge, dodging furniture. More than once her shirt rode up, giving me a taste of the reward that awaited me for catching her. Eventually she ducked into the stairs, before realising the dead-end that awaited her and turning back to find me blocking the escape route.
She froze, realising she was trapped. I paused, toying with my prey.
"What's the punishment for resisting arrest?" she asked with trepidation.
"Spanking, of course."
"If I turn myself in now, will I still get spanked?"
"You already ran once, so the spanking's going to happen no matter what. But if you hand over the shirt I'll spank you here, instead of dunking you in the pool and spanking you outside where the neighbours might hear." It was probably an empty threat - the neighbours would have left for work by now. Probably. But I felt very clever for playing into her fantasy from this morning.
She gulped. "Okay," she said, looking down in defeat. She slowly lifted her shirt, painstakingly exposing her smooth upper thighs inch by inch. Just as her shirt was about to reveal the meaning of life, she looked up at my face, judging I was sufficiently distracted and making a break for it. Despite her wily tactics, I was still able to catch her as she attempted to dart under my arm towards freedom, wrapping a forearm around her abdomen to slow her and bringing the other arm around to reinforce my grip and lift her off her feet.
"You know, I think I'm glad you chose the hard way," I said, "it's going to be much more fun." I manhandled her over to the pool amid her kicking and squealing, pausing only to dump my phone on the couch, then picked her up and jumped into the water with her. The familiar cold enveloped me, soaking through my shorts and shirt, but at least I now had the advantage that my quarry was effectively weightless and thereby easy to manipulate.
We were in the shallow end, so from my vantage point under the water I was able to grab her bare legs and walk us both to the side, lifting her out in a fireman's carry. She seemed to go along with it now, no longer trying to get away despite the fact her bare backside was being displayed to the world (or at least the world inside our fence).
Once I dumped her soaked body on the lounger it became apparent that the white shirt she had borrowed from me had gone completely see-through. Clinging to her wet form, it showed me her tight hips, cute belly button, the cleft between her legs, and her delectable tits topped with twin peaks, hardened by the cold. She lay there shivering, looking up at me like all her dreams were coming true. I knew just how to warm her up.
"Do you accept your punishment?" I sat astride her legs.
She nodded, not daring to say anything lest she break the spell.
I grabbed the hem of her (my) shirt, but instead of lifting it up as she expected, I ripped it apart, creating a tear from the neck down past her chest. She gave a surprised squawk and instinctively moved to cover herself, before realising she liked me looking so she laid her hands down by her sides. It took two more goes to finish tearing through the bottom so she could lie fully exposed beneath me, her chest rising and falling as the remaining pool water beaded on her skin, glinting in the sunlight.
At this point my own soaked shirt was annoying me, so I threw it off and stared down at her. She stared back. I cleared her wet hair from her face. The intensity of the moment seemed to evaporate, as we found ourselves laughing at the absurdity of the situation.
"Hi."
"Hi."
