“Stay exactly where you are miss Nichols,” Heather ordered, “hands upon your head until you're told otherwise. I'm sorry I neglected to inform you that Mr Morson would be joining us this morning.”
Yes, for all that Ralph Morson's arrival was a shock for Michaela, it had been throughly expected by Heather. In fact, she had been watching his approach as he entered her small garden from the hotel's main grounds.
She noticed today he had returned to his earlier smart but casual look; brown corduroy trousers, and a thick green woolen cardigan over a collarless white shirt. She also noticed a distinct spring in his step.
The previous evening, after Michaela had been sent home, Heather had made her move upon him. First though, she needed to find out more about her intended target. As time was of the essence, she did not have the wiggle room for some elaborate plan, she simply Googled his name and address.
Within a matter of about five clicks, Heather had ascertained that Mr. Morson was a lawyer, and of late, also, a lay preacher. That latter bit of information lead the cynical side of Heather's nature to suspect that he was planning to run for public office.
Clearly a preacher with political ambitions would be the last person you would expect to be involved in any sexual “jiggery-pokery”. Equally, a preacher with political ambitions would be likely to be the first person to leap at the chance of sexual “jiggery-pokery”. Moreso, in a foreign country, with the lesser chance of any scandal becoming public knowledge.
All Heather had to do was wait until Mr Morson came back to the bar, till he entered her web. She did not have long to wait.
“Mr Morson,” Heather almost whispered as Julie was pouring out his round of drinks. “it would appear we seem to have very similar tastes?”
“Really Ma'am, in what way would that be?”
“Let's just say, that if either of us were ordering ice cream, neither would order vanilla.”Heather whispered, her eyes glistening with the mixture of wine and lust. “Would I be right in that thinking?”
“Yes, you would indeed be right in that thinking.” Ralph replied, “I kinda gathered that from our little time back there in the office...I could see you were rather entranced.”
Without saying anything further, Heather handed Ralph Morson the note she had written out while she was waiting at the bar. He quickly read it, and like Heather, no further words were passed, he merely nodded.
With that little nod, to Heather's mind, Michaela's fate had been sealed.
“Good morning Mr Morson, you are quite early?” Heather said as she opened the door.
“I am a great believer in the saying, to be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late and to be late is just unacceptable. So, you will rarely find me late for an appointment. Especially an appointment as mysterious as this one.” Ralph replied, then added. “I must say that you are looking quite splendid today!”
Today, Heather Moore was indeed looking splendid, if not just a tad overdressed for a Thursday morning sitting around her house.
Her short blond hair was today worn in a manner that looked unkept, though, of course, not a hair was out of place. Her makeup looked natural, the hardest of looks to attain, like last night her brown eyes were glistening, today though no wine was needed to give her eyes that seductive glint.
Her short linen white dress had three triangular cutouts; the centre one showing off more than a hint of her cleavage. Her push up quarter cup bra showed off her hard nipples against the thin material of her dress. The two outer cuts were giving a hint of her muscular though still feminine, shoulders.
Her crimson red stiletto heels gave Heather the height advantage over her American guest.
“Yes Ma'am, you are looking quite stunning, I feel rather underdressed,” Ralph said as he entered the living room, then his eyes fell upon the half naked Michaela.
“I'm sorry...what exactly is going on here?” Ralph said in clear surprise at the view that greeted him.
Heather was more than a little taken aback by Ralph's reaction. “When we spoke last night...of shared interests....”
“I'm sorry, but you seem to have misunderstood or at least misread me,” Ralph said as he walked over to the now visibly shaking Michaela.
He lightly touched her shoulder, for her to turn around. Michaela did so, her hands still upon her head. Instead of drinking in the view of the half-naked bar manager, Ralph engaged steady eye contact with her.
“Would I be correct young lady in assuming that you have been somewhat coerced into this situation?” He asked, his voice little more than a gentle whisper.
As Michaela nodded, a lone tear ran down her cheek, Ralph reached out and lightly dabbed it away with his finger.
“Please, take your hands down from your head,” Ralph said.
Michaela did as requested; her hands automatically going to cover up her frontal nakedness.
“Oh please, don't hide yourself in such away. The Lord did not bless you with such charms, for you to hide them away in shame. You should be like Eve before The Fall, proud of you natural beauty, not running to hide your bareness!” Saying that, Ralph took Michaela's hands and placed them on the sides of her hips. As he did so, for the first time since arriving at Heather's house, Michaela smiled.
“You see miss Moore, you have served me a great injustice, clearly we both do have not dissimilar tastes. However, I do not believe in coercion as a rule, I prefer willing participants. Also, I consider myself to be somewhat of an artist, and as such I like to paint upon a blank canvas, I take it you understand what I mean?”
Heather did understand. Also, she was aware of his courtroom nuances and wordplay. She understood enough to know where Ralph Morson was planning to take this.
Ralph then noticed the paddle and the crop on the table.
“I take it these are the instruments that miss Moore used upon you?” He asked Michaela, gesturing to the table.
“No, she used the paddle thingy, not the whip. She spanked me first; then she hit me with a shoe..” Michaela said then theatrically burst into a new bout of sobbing.
“A shoe?” Ralph asked Heather, trying hard not to laugh.
“It was one of her trainers!” Heather sighed out in exasperation.
“Ah, yes I see. The English love of the gym slipper is still alive and well, I thought that was just a flight of fancy in porn films and books?”
“Clearly not!” Again Heather sighed, seeing that she or at least Ralph Morson was painting her into a corner.
“So, this young lady has been; spanked, slippered and paddled this morning?”
“Yes, that is right, she chose to take my punishment rather than lose her job,” Heather replied, resigned to what she was certain, was now going to be her own fate.
“All of which was non-consensual?”
“No, it was her choice!”
“Her choice? You mean to say she requested upon her own volition or were they the only options put to her?”
Heather did not answer, instead, like Michaela less than an hour earlier, she merely stared at the floor in front of her.
“I take it by your silence, that those were the options given to her. Very much a 'Sophie's Choice', would you not say? In fact, it almost smells of blackmail!”
“Whatever!” Heather grunted, becoming annoyed at Ralph's continuing use of legalese.
“Perhaps you should feel some discipline on the same level, after all, I'm sure this young lady would have some available legal recourse should she choose to take it?”
“No, no, no way! That is not my thing at all!” Heather said as she heard the very thing that she had been expecting to hear.
“Well, it would appear that it wasn't this young lady's thing either,” Ralph replied calmly, then turned to Michaela, and said. “Spankings I take it are not 'your thing'?”
Michaela shook her head in the negative.
“So, miss Moore, where do we go from here?” Ralph asked Heather.
Heather was in an emotional turmoil; it was right spankings were a large part of her life. However, she was always the top; she was always the spanker, never the spankee. She knew of many people who were “switches”, happy to be in either role, but that was not her.
Being on the receiving end of a spanking was something not ever in her mindset. She knew though that that was becoming now almost inevitable; this was a situation that had gone spectacularly wrong.
“Michaela will have to leave before you spank me!” Heather said, finally breaking her stony silence.
“Motion denied!” Ralph said, in an overly joyful manner, and added. “Do you know ladies, as a lawyer how I have longed to have a chance to say that phrase?”
“It would not be right for her to be here, she is my employee...it's just not right...” Heather said, the desperation clearly audible in her voice.
“Well, perhaps you could look upon it as a team bonding exercise? The young lady stays!” Ralph said emphatically.
Slowly Heather nodded, if nothing else, she was pragmatic and knew when she was fighting a lost cause. For her now, it was just a case of taking whatever Ralph Morson was going to throw at her. Taking it, with all the dignity that she could muster.
“I take it young lady,” Ralph said looking at Michaela, “that you were spanked over your jeans first?”
“No, she took down my jeans and knickers, she said a spanking was only a spanking when its on the bare bottom,” Michaela replied sullenly.
“Tut-tut, such impatience miss Moore!” Ralph said grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Perhaps Michaela, you would like to help miss Moore out of her dress.”
She did not have to be asked twice, she marched straight over to Heather, seemingly now unaware of her own semi-nakedness.
“I am quite capable of removing my own dress!” Heather said her temper now showing.
“Of course you are miss Moore,” Ralph said, his face now holding a beaming smile, “but we both know, that is not the point. Don't we?”
Heather did not answer the question, she knew it rhetorical. She also knew that Ralph Morson would heap upon her any indignation he could think of. She had done the same when she had been in his position, and she had also seen it done by others, now though, she was the subject.
Though she was an unwilling subject, she did, however, know the role that she must play out.
So, when Michaela's fingers went to the hook and eye clasp at the back of her dress, Heather remained entirely passive.
She did not complain as she felt her zip being lowered.
She made no attempt to demure, as her dress fell towards the floor, rather, she stood straight, erect and proud.
“Such an enchanting vista,” Ralph said as he approached her, “such a voluptuous shape.” He added, as his hands ran down the sides of Heather's ribcage, then lower over her pinched abdomen, finally coming to rest upon her womanly hips. “You are truly quite the hour glass, aren't you?”
He then stepped back again, to give her one more magnifying glance.
“Well Michaela, my initial plan was to have you strip miss Moore completely naked. However, she looks so bewitching in her underwear it seems such a shame to spoil the appearance. Her delightful little blue bra can remain, as it holds her breasts and shows off her nipples so well.” Despite her best intentions, Heather could feel her face burning red at Ralph Morson's words. “Her hold up stockings can also remain, they make such a contrasting frame to the paleness of her flesh. I'm sorry to say miss Moore, your shoes have to go and to be equitable with your punishment of Michaela, those little blue panties will have to go also.” Ralph nodded to Michaela, who immediately set to work in removing Heather's aforementioned shoes and knickers.
On this occasion, of her further denuding, Heather's hands without thought went to cover her crotch.
“Oh my, such shy ladies we have today,” Ralph chuckled, “hands by your side miss Moore...in fact no, hands on your head, let's keep this traditional!”
With her face now aflame with rage as well as shame, Heather obeyed Ralph Morson's instructions.
“I see you prefer the shaven look over that of Michaela's enchanted forest miss Moore?”
Heather closed her eyes, rather than having to look at, or talk to Ralph Morson.
“Michaela, could you remind of the manner that your punishments took, please?” Ralph asked.
“First she spanked my bare bottom for ages; then she hit me with a shoe and then that paddle thing!” Michaela replied, pointing at the drilled ash paddle on the table.
“OK, how many times did she pop you with the paddle?”
“And, how many with your training shoe?”
“Well, I think the slipper is very ineffectual, so it will be eight with the paddle, rather than even bothering with the slipper,” Ralph said, pulling the chair back into the centre of the room.
“Time to begin miss Moore!” Ralph announced.
Heather now re-opened her eyes, waiting for further instructions; none was forthcoming.
“Where do you want me?” Heather finally asked breaking the deadlocked silence.
“Where ever is most comfortable for you,” Ralph cheerfully replied, “I am virtually ambidextrous, so it matters not which way you lay over my lap.”
Heather draped herself over his lap, making her bottom the target for his left hand. She did not have long to wait to feel that hand.
For no sooner than she was in place than she felt the first slaps across her bottom. The slaps came at an even cadence, they were not particularly harsh, but they were firm. In the matter of a minute or so, she could feel the heat building in her bottom, and then she heard Ralph's voice.
“So, Michaela is this the way she spanked you?”
“Yes sir...more or less, but I think she spanked me a little harder.”
“Lying fucking bitch, I was being gentle with her!” Heather thought to herself but did not utter those thoughts.
“Do you mean like this?” Ralph asked as he increased both his tempo and his velocity.
Heather then felt a staccato barrage of pain from Ralph's left hand.
“Yes sir, just like that!” Michaela said gleefully.
Heather, now felt the previous warmness turn to a stinging pain. A pain she was trying her hardest not to allow to register, or at least to seem as if the pain was not registering.
Of course this stubborn pride and stoicism; was only leading her into a longer and harder spanking.
However, rather than trying to “break” Heather, Ralph's intentions were only to get a uniform colouring, he wished for a beautiful rosy red bottom to paddle. After about five minutes of spanking, Ralph had his wish, and Heather's bottom was glowing red. Her nates were glowing red, and hot to the touch.
Ralph, surprisingly gently, helped Heather back to her feet, noticing that her hazel eyes now had a distinctly watery look to them.
Then Ralph also rose to his feet. “Michaela, I am about to give miss Moore eight pops of the paddle, and then as she did with you, she will then be given corner time to reflect upon today's decisions. I see no value to you staying just to observe miss Moore standing doing nothing. So, with that in mind, I think it would be best for you to leave after miss Moore's paddling. If you wish to get dressed now, then we can bring miss Moore's correction to a close.”
Ralph could not help but laugh, as he saw the look upon Michaela's face as she was reminded of her half-naked condition.
“Also, Michaela, I'm pretty confident that miss Moore will allow you tomorrow evening off work, so I can take you to dinner by way of an apology for today's misunderstandings!”
Once Michaela was fully dressed, Ralph pulled out another two dining chairs, putting two chairs next to each other about a foot apart, then the third to the rear of the other two. Michaela looked puzzled as to what was now taking place, Heather on the other hand understood thoroughly.
“A knee here and a knee here,” Ralph said, pointing at the chairs with the paddle, “your hands there please miss Moore!”
Heather got into the required position; she had no doubt as to the view that this ignominious pose would be offering to both Michaela and Ralph.
Any worries of modesty were soon taken from her mind as the paddle crashed upon her left buttock. She expected pain but not to this level, no sooner had the first pop landed than she felt the second hit her right buttock.
By the fifth pop, she was in tears, by the eighth she was regretting ever purchasing the damned paddle.
Again, as before, Ralph gently helped her back to her feet, and guided her to the place where he had earlier found the half-naked Michaela.
“Thirty minutes, and no touching your bottom, or we will start all over again, understand?” Ralph asked the tearful Heather, who nodded between her sobs.
Ralph then saw Michaela out, giving her a little goodbye peck upon her cheek.
Once Michaela had safely left the grounds of the cottage, Ralph headed towards Heathers kitchen, it only took him a couple of minutes to find what he was searching for.
“Miss Moore, I have changed my mind about you spending corner time. Instead, I would like you to go up to your room, place your pillows in the centre of the bed, and then lay across them, bottom-up nice and high.”
With a heavy heart, Heather made her way to her bedroom, taking this chance to give her bottom a sly soothing rub as she climbed the stairs.
Two minutes later Ralph followed her upstairs, entering the room he was rather taken aback by the decor, it was as if he was stepping back into Victorian times. Heather lay as instructed over the pillows on her huge four poster bed. Ralph quickly scanned the room's antique furniture, till his eyes rested upon a chest of drawers.
“I take it that on of those drawers is your underwear drawer?” Ralph asked then added. “Don't worry ma'am I am not on some weird middle-aged pantie raid, I ask for your comfort.”
“Second one down!” Heather replied through gritted teeth, no at all sure why she was continuing with this not so comical Comedy Of Errors.
It did not take long for Ralph to find what he was looking for, a thin pair of cotton boyshorts. He then sat on the bed, close to Heather's feet.
Then Heather felt a soothing coolness to her bottom.
“Is that good?” Ralph asked, as he gently moved the pack of frozen vegetables wrapped in her boyshorts across her still hot red flesh.
“Yes!” She gasped in the relief that the improvised cold compress was giving her.
Ralph continued moving the vegetables with his right hand while the fingers of he left hand sought out the lips of Heather's pussy.
“Is that also good?”
“Yes...oh God yes!”
Ralph then moved further onto the bed, undoing his trousers as he did so. His hands moved to Heather's hips, pulling her higher, the head of his cock nudging at the doorway to her sex. He pushed his hips forward; his shaft smoothly entering her wetness.
“Is this good?”
“Yes!” Heather answered, wondering how her plans had unraveled so badly, only to reach the very conclusion that she was hoping for.