Monday, 23 August 2010
It was a glorious Sunday afternoon at the height of summer, not a cloud could be seen in the sky and apart from the gentle birdsong in the surrounding countryside it was peaceful and quiet, and peace and quiet were exactly what Paul Marston needed right now. He was an artist who specialised in fine watercolour paintings, fifty one years old, widowed but hopeful, and very accomplished in his field, so much so that his paintings often sold for thousands of pounds at the fine art gallery in London where he was now very well know for his talents. But Paul now had his work cut out, a buyer had just commissioned him to produce four exceptionally good paintings depicting the four season of the year and the deadline for completion was drawing near. The buyer was Martha Wilcox, a talented interior designer who had been snapped up by a very famous celebrity to completely decorate and furnish his swanky new flat in Chelsea. She was required to complete her lucrative project by the end of August which meant that Paul had only been given three weeks in which to complete all four paintings to the high standards expected of him. Despite his very best efforts Paul had only managed to produce spring, summer and autumn, and now he only had three days to come up with an exceptional depiction of winter.
Paul stood in his studio, actually it was a rather spacious and beautiful Georgian style conservatory which was attached to the back of his very spacious and beautiful, four bedroom detached house, but being an artist he preferred to refer to it as his studio. He stared gloomily at the foreboding blank canvas before him and let out a huge sigh. He'd had half a mind to try and convince Martha that it was a painting of heavy snowfall, but he soon shrugged off that idea as a lost cause. The trouble was it had been an uncommonly good summer, filled with delightfully sunny days, so there was no inspiration for him to paint anything remotely chilly. He gazed around for any source of inspiration, then suddenly it struck him, he went dashing up to his bedroom, took a small cardboard box from under the bed and began rummaging through it."There, got it!" he announced, before taking his prize back down to his studio. Once there he studied it closely, it was a Christmas card with a painted winter scene on the front, the perfect thing to inspire him!
Within a few hours Windsor and Newton watercolour paints had been blended and painstakingly applied to the canvas and a painting worthy of any top London gallery was well in progress, as usual it would be the finer detail that would take time and concentration, but that was no problem for a man as dedicated and diligent as Paul. He was a man of old fashioned values and he firmly believes that hard work and discipline will always be rewarded. He was just adding one such detail to a building on the left of his painting when BOOM BOOM BOOM! rang out in the air, Geoff jumped with the shock of it and promptly smudged a thick line of black paint right across his artwork.
"Oh damn and blast it!" he yelled over the noise of Duffy's latest top ten hit. He'd immediately realised that the terrible din was coming from the house next door, AGAIN!
After a rueful glance at his ruined painting Paul marched out of his conservatory and headed along the path at the side of his house, he soon reached the pavement and headed for the driveway of number five. By the time he'd walked the short distance to the front door his temper had increased, and so of course had the volume. He pounded on the front door but there was no answer, so he pounded again and still there was no response, obviously whoever was inside had no chance of hearing him so he tried the door handle, much to his surprise the door opened so he entered and looked around for any signs of the occupant. The house was owned by Derek Mathews, a hard working single dad who was as polite and welcoming as you could wish anyone to be, but his eighteen year old daughter Emily on the other hand was what could only be described as a wilful little minx. She was a charming enough girl, a well educated student at the local college, but was well known for getting her own way, she had her father wrapped around her little finger so whatever she wanted she got. Emily was also well known for playing her music unbearably loud when her father was out, and sure enough when Paul pushed open the door to the lounge he found her dancing around the room like some sort of demented lunatic. She was a slim, pretty girl with long blonde hair and a fair complexion, and at this moment was wearing a pale pink Nike leisure suit and white socks. Despite himself Paul couldn't help admiring her charm even though he was as angry as Hell.
After a few moments of shouting Emily was still quite oblivious of him so Paul stormed over to the Hi-Fi, he frantically searched for the off button, but in the end he resorted to pulling the plug out of the wall socket instead. Emily spun around stunned by the sudden silence, and soon became even more stunned to find her neighbour Mr Marston standing front of her.
"Mr...Marston. Oh God you really made me jump!" she blurted out at him.
He dropped his gaze. "Well perhaps if you hadn't had the volume turned up so high you would have heard me come in."
"Oh, right, I um, I'm sorry about that." She straightened out her clothes and tidied up her tousled hair as best she could. "Did you want my dad? Only he's not here, he won't be back for a couple of hours yet."
"No, Emily, considering your are the one who's been making all this terrible racket it's you I've come to see!"
"But Duffy isn't a racket, she's really cool."
"I don't care what temperature she is, Young Lady, you were making way too much noise, this is the third time I've had to come over and complain about it, and what's more you've ruined a very important artwork of mine."
Emily frowned at him. "I..I don't understand, Mr Marston, how did I do that?"
"By causing a terrible distraction which made me jump and spill paint across it."
"Oh indeed!" Paul folded his arms and gave her his most reprimanding stare. "So what else do you have to say for yourself?"
Emily chewed her top lip. "Um.... I'm sorry."
Paul could see from the glint in her eye that she wasn't at all sorry, in fact she looked as though she were about to giggle any second."Oh you will be sorry, Emily, as soon as your father gets home I'm going to tell him all about your appalling behaviour. You do realise there are rules around here about making too much noise and your father could get into a lot of trouble because of it?"
Suddenly Emily looked worried. "Oh, well I... I forgot about that. But please don't tell my dad what I did."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."
"Because, well because I'm sort of on a good behaviour bond at the moment."
Now it was Paul's turn to frown. "With the police?"
"No, with my dad."
Paul shook his head. "Well that's not my problem is it. Your dad needs to know what's been going on around here so I-"
"No please, Mr Marston you don't understand!" Emily interrupted, she moved towards him with her palms pressed tightly together in a begging motion. "The thing is, my dad promised me he'd buy me some more horse riding lessons, but only if I behave myself and don't get into any trouble, if he finds out about this then he won't let me have them and it'll take ages for me to save up the money to pay for them myself."
"Well you should have thought about that before you turned the volume up so high again shouldn't you?"
Emily suddenly looked crestfallen. "Yeah I suppose so." She sighed deeply then gazed into Paul's eyes. "Isn't there anything I could do to make it up to you, Mr Marston?"
"Anything what like?" asked Paul.
"Well, maybe I could clean your house, or wash your car? Please, Mr Marston I'll do anything, only please don't tell my dad. My riding instructor says I'm really good and could have a future in show jumping so I really need to have these lessons!"
Paul considered this for a moment, then he decided to take advantage of this opportunity of a lifetime and do something he'd yearned to do for a very long time. "Well, Emily, I'm not sure if I trust you in my house, or anywhere near my car, but I do have an idea of how to punish you for your bad behaviour."
"Anything." beamed Emily.
"Very well then, what I suggest is that I give you a sound spanking."
Emily's jaw dropped and a deep crimson rose from her neck to her forehead, then she swallowed hard. "A.. a spanking?"
"Yes, I intend to put you over my knee and soundly spank your bare bottom, Emily."
"But... why would you want to do that?"
"Because, Young Lady, I firmly believe that a strong dose of good old fashioned discipline will benefit you enormously, and leaving a lasting impression on your bottom will remind you to behave better in future."
"But... you can't."
"Oh yes I can," replied Paul. "and unless you want me to tell you father what you've been up to that's exactly what I'm going to do." He angled his head to one side and waited for a response from the shocked and blushing teenager.
Emily swallowed hard again, her heart was racing now and she was starting to tremble. "But I... I've never been.. spanked before."
"Never?" frowned Paul. "I find that hard to believe."
"Because you're such a naughty young lady that's why."
She gazed down at the floor. "Well, I never have, and I don't want to be either."
"Well that's your choice, Emily. I'll just go home now and speak to your father later." Paul turned on his heels and headed for the door when-
He turned back around to face her again. "Yes?"
"I'll... I'll let you spank me, Mr Marston," Emily said tearfully. "only please don't tell anyone cos I'd die of embarrassment."
Paul walked up to Emily and placed his hand on her arm. "I have no intention of telling anyone, Emily, this would stay strictly between you and me and once it was over the matter would be forgotten. Do you understand that?"
"But.. I don't know what I have to do."
He smiled reassuringly at her. "Well I'll soon sort everything out, but I suggest you visit the bathroom first."
She frowned at him then realised what he meant and nodded. "Oh, okay." she said,and quickly left the room.
While he was waiting Paul fetched a straight backed wooden chair from the dining room and placed it the middle of the lounge, he made sure there was ample space all around it, then he took a few minutes to take in his surroundings. Among many other delightful things he noticed several family photographs on the wall, most of which showed Emily at different stages of her life. But the one he took the most notice of was the photograph of Emily and her late mother. Elizabeth Mathews had died from cancer when Emily was only seven years old, it had obviously had a devestating effect on the young girl and Paul couldn't help wondering if this is what had led to her being so unruly.
Just then Emily returned looking more terrified yet more beautiful then before, and Paul suddenly realised what a striking resemblance she had to her dear mother.
"All sorted?" Paul asked, somewhat sympathetically.
Emily nodded nervously.
"Best get it over with then eh?"
She took a deep breath. "Yeah okay."
Paul walked over to her and gently took her arm, he then led her to the chair and sat down. By now Emily was so nervous her heart was racing, and she felt sick from the butterflies in her stomach. She prayed that despite his obvious intention to go through with this, Mr Marston would take pity on her and let her off this time.
"Now as this is your first spanking I'm going to start things off slowly and build up to it. The first thing I need to do is get you into the correct position over my knee."
Now Emily knew her prayers were in vain.
Paul firmly guided her across his lap, then maneouvered her until she had her bottom presented uppermost. "I want you to place your palms flat on the ground and straighten your arms, and I want you to keep your toes on the floor."
Emily's heart was pounding now, she was finding it hard to breath and was on the verge of more tears. She placed her palms flat on the floor and managed to straighten out her arms, then she wriggled herself until her toes were touching the floor.
"Are you comfortable?"
Emily didn't understand the point of question. "Sorry?"
"Is this position comfortable for you?"
The question seemed ludacrous considering what was about to happen. "Does it...matter?" she asked with bewilderment.
"Yes,it matters a lot. If you're not comfortable then it will be a distraction from what's happening to your bottom."
"Oh." Emily understood completely now. "Yes I'm fairly comfortable, Sir!"
"Very good!" said Paul. He placed his left arm across her back and took a firm hold on her, then he gazed down at the young beauty stretched over his knee and smiled. She had a shapely figure, and obviously had a very spankable bottom. Her long blonde hair hung down almost to the floor and she seemed so vulnerable lying there that he almost felt sorry for her."Right,Emily," he said gently. "I'm going to spank you now." He felt her gasp and she writhed slightly. "I'm going to give you the first few smacks over your jogging pants, just as a sort of warm up, then I'm going to spank you over your knickers, then I shall be pulling down your knickers and spanking your bare bottom. Is that understood?"
There was a long pause as Emily caught her breath. "Yes, Sir." she said eventually.
"Very well then." Paul gazed down at his target, then did something he'd only ever dreamed of, he raised his right hand and brought it sharply down on Emilys right bottom cheek. Slap!
"Ow!" Emily yelped and began wriggling.
Paul smacked her left cheek with the same force.
"Ow!" She wriggled even more.
"Ouch. Oh no that hurts!" she whined.
Paul paused for a moment. "That's the whole point, Young Lady, it's supposed to hurt otherwise it won't do you any good.
"But I didn't think it would hurt that much!"
"My dear girl this is just the warm up, I haven't even begun the proper spanking yet."
Suddenly Emily struggled up off Paul's lap and stood in front of him. "I...I've changed my mind. I don't want you to spank me any more." She gave him her most pleading expression in the hope he would be lenient.
"That's all right," shrugged Paul. "I won't spank you any more if that's what you want?"
Emily nodded gratefully.
"I'll just have to go back to my original plan and tell your father what you did."
She let out a huge sigh of defeat, then promptly started to cry. "Please don't tell him, Mr Marston. Please."
"Well you know the alternative, Emily, it's one or the other, you decide." He waited patiently for her to mull it over.
There was a long silence as Emily considered her options. "My dad musn't find out." she muttered quietly.
Paul smiled knowingly and patted his lap. "Well then I suggest you get back over my knee and let me finish what I started."
Emily stood there for a moment, then nodded and submissively lay back over his knee again. Seconds later Paul had got her back into position and the spanking resumed with the same effort as before, but this time Emily kept her protests much quieter. After twenty or so firm slaps Paul eased down her jogging pants to reveal the prettiest pair of white, frilly knickers he'd ever seen, Emily gave a little cry of defiance, but soon accepted her fate, and so Paul continued to spank her now scantily clad cheeks. He soon discovered that Emily was a joy to spank, her bottom was as round and peachy as he'd imagined, and it coloured readily with each new smack. The white of her knickers made a wonderful contrast to the pink shade that her cheeks were now turning, and despite her earlier dramatics Emily was taking her spanking well. She squirmed and writhed over Paul's knee, but that only reinforced the fact that his spanking was having the desired affect on her, plus it made her cheeks wobble even more when she wriggled. He gave her several dozen smacks, but then the magical moment finally arrived, it was time to pull down Emily's knickers and spank her on the bare.
Paul gripped Emily more tightly as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her frilly knickers, she gave a little squeak of protest but despite this he slid them down over her plump cheeks, then eased them on down to her knees. He gazed down at the sight before him and could hardly believe his eyes, her bottom looked more perfect than ever now, and he resumed the spanking with even more pleasure than before.
Within moments Emily was praying that Paul would stop, her bottom stung terribly and she felt totally humiliated, but she realised this was far better than the alternative of her father finding out, at least that's what she thought until the spanking got even harder.
"Oh please stop, Mr Marston. Please!"
Paul paused briefly, but only to give her an explanation. "I'm not going to stop until I think you've learned your lesson."
"But I have, I swear I have!"
"No, I don't think you have, Young Lady, but you soon will, believe me!"
Despite her renewed protests Paul continued to roast poor Emily's tender cheeks with even more vigour and she writhed and squirmed desperately, finally she could stand it no longer and couldn't help reaching around with her right hand to try and protect her bottom from the relentless onslaught. But sadly for Emily it did no good at all, Paul simply grasped her wrist and held her in a tight armlock while he continued to give the teenager her first sound spanking of her young life.
Finally her ordeal was over and the spanking ended, neither of them had bothered to count exactly how many smacks Emily had recieved, but Paul guessed it must have been well over two hundred. Her bottom was now a deep shade of crimson and Paul was sure she would find it uncomfortable to sit down for at least the next two or three days.
Emily Mathews had just been taught a lesson she would never forget!
After pulling her knickers back into place Paul patted Emily's bottom and told her she could get up, then he helped her to her feet and pulled her jogging pants up too. He looked up at her and could now see that her face was almost as red as her bottom, tears rolled down her face and she was trembling like a leaf. She looked thoroughly chastised and now Paul did the only proper thing he could, he stood up, wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her with as much affection that a father would show his daugther.
"You did really well," said Paul. "You took your spanking with a lot of courage and you should be proud of yourself."
Emily nodded and sniffled as she clung tightly to Paul, then she drew in a deep calming breath and finally managed to speak. "Th.. thank... you... Mr Marston, I.. really deserved that, and... I know it'll... do me good."
"Yes, Emily, I think it will." Paul smoothed back her hair and tenderly kissed her forehead. "It's something that should have been done a long time ago, but now it's over we can forget about what happened and put it behind us. Hopefully we can be friends too?"
"Yes I'd... like that." Emily smiled up at him. "I promise I'll try to be good from now on."
"Well I should hope so too!" laughed Paul. "otherwise you'll find yourself over my knee again."
She laughed softly. "Hmmm, well it'll serve me right then won't it." She thought for a moment then added. "I wish my dad had shown me this much attention."
Paul frowned at her. "What do you mean, Sweetheart?"
"Having a hug and stuff."
Suddenly the penny dropped. "You've been doing all this because you're unhappy haven't you!"
"Yeah." She wiped her eyes. "Ever since mum died dad's been so busy trying to make me happy that he forgets I need a cuddle sometimes. And lately he's hardly been around when I've needed him."
"Well, have you tried talking to him about it?"
"No, not really."
"I think it's time you did."
"I'm not sure if he'll understand though."
"He's your dad, Emily and he loves you very much, of course he'll understand."
"You really think so, Mr Marston?"
"Yes I do, and from now on I want you to call me Paul."
Emily's face beamed."Okay, Paul. Thank you."
"You're very welcome, Sweetheart." Paul suddenly noticed the time on the mantel clock. "Speaking of your dad, he'll be home soon so I'd better go and let you tidy yourself up a bit."
"And if ever you need a friendly ear or a shoulder to cry on, you know where I am. You got that?"
"Yeah, I've got that. Thank you, Paul.
"My pleasure, Emily."
There was another tight hug, then Paul headed home again.
Once he was back in his studio Paul sat down and thought about what had just happened, despite being angry and relishing the excuse to give the little minx the sound spanking she deserved he couldn't help feeling sorry for her, she was obviously unhappy and all she wanted was to be shown some love and affection. Maybe he was wrong to be so severe with her, but then it had made her admit her feelings, and better than that it had brought them both together as friends. Paul took a deep breath then looked over at his painting, when he'd left the house earlier he'd firmly believed his painting was completely ruined, but looking at it again he could see that with a bit of tweaking and the inclusion of a large tree in the foreground the painting would be exceptional enough even for Martha's high standards.
He smiled broadly to himself, then picked up his paint pallette and got to work creating a pure masterpiece.
As soon as Paul had left Emily had gone upstairs to her bedroom, she was naturally curious about the state of her bottom and wanted to inspect it in the full length mirror, it was a deep red colour and sore to the touch, she knew she wouldn't be able to sit down for days, but somehow she felt proud of it. She had a shower and dried herself off, taking great care with her delicate and tender rear end, then she got dressed and went downstairs just as her father came in the front door carrying a huge bunch of flowers.
"Wow, who are those from?" asked Emily as she rushed over to take a closer look.
"They're from me."
"Oh, well who are they for then, dad?"
Derek smiled broadly at her. "They're for you, Honey."
Emily was stunned."Me? But... why,dad?"
"Because I've been neglecting you lately. I haven't been around much and I just wanted to say I'm sorry."
Emily immediately burst into tears so her dad quickly put the flowers down and wrapped his arms around his precious daughter.
"It's okay, Honey,don't cry."
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I can't help it, I... I didn't think you'd realised."
"Well I hadn't until today, but I got talking to one of my mates at work about his little girl and it suddenly dawned on me that I haven't been there for you lately. But all that's going to change now, I'm going to spend more time with you and be there for you when you need me."
Emily smiled up at him. "Thanks,dad. I love you."
"I love you too, Em'!"
Derek affectionately kissed her forehead and she thought about Paul.
"Oh by the way." said Derek. "I've booked you those riding lessons."
Emily let out a loud squeal of delight, but as she jumped up and down with excitelent she was quickly reminded of having a very sore and tender bottom.
"I take it you're pleased then." he grinned.
She tried to hide her discomfort. "Ooh yes, dad. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, Em'. After all you've earned them for being so good."
Emily suddenly felt guilty about the appalling behaviour that had resulted in her receiving a soundly spanked bare bottom, then an awful thought suddenly occured to her, sitting on a horse would be very painful right now. "So um... when do I start?" she asked nervously.
Derek smiled proudly at her. "Well I knew you'd be keen to get straight to it, so you're first lesson's booked in for this evening!"
The Sore End!