Aprons For Gayle Ch. 02

"Wow, Sir, this is incredible," she grunted, as she was staring at the ceiling with her head all the way back. Looking at him she said, "I wondered if your kitchen would be modernized or not."

"It's partially modernized. The copper pot in the fireplace is just for show," he replied as he filled an unusual looking percolator with water.

"Ah." Spinning around she saw the remaining sections; one had a small table and two chairs set in front of a bay window, and the other had the clothes washer and dryer with a shelf with detergent and such. "Why are the washer and dryer in the kitchen, Sir?"

"Convenience."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." She wanted to sit down but thought better of it. She wasn't sure if she was to wait for further instruction.

"Four." The percolator started to gurgle and he approached her, one arm behind his back. "First things first. Turn around and pull your hair up." His voice was deeper than it had been before and much more commanding.

As she did he stood very close behind her. Bringing his hands around the front of her neck, the smell of leather wafted to her nose.

"Hmm. You have a very kissable neck."

She couldn't reply from the knot in the back of her throat. A strap about an inch wide tightened slightly against her throat before he pulled it behind her neck, buckling it into place.

"You will wear my collar at all times, except when you bathe. You are now my employee, Ms. Boyce."

"I understand, Sir."

Hodges, hurry up! Jings, you're slow today, he thought impatiently. He wasn't done with Gayle yet, and it was the part he was really looking forward to.

Gayle lifted her hand and felt the thick, metal ring dangling from the center, resting just at the tip of her collarbone.

Several seconds passed before he said, "You may sit." After she did he asked if she wanted cream or sugar.

"Just black, Sir."

He didn't reply but went back to the counter, poured the coffees, brought her a cup and sat down across from her. They were quiet for a few minutes as they sipped their coffees.

David walked into the kitchen and said, "Ms. Boyce, your bag is in your room."

If he noticed her collar he didn't let on, but still, Gayle was very embarrassed. "Thank you."

David then turned to Hamish and bowed. "I shall take my leave now, if you'll permit me to do so."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Is he serious? she wondered. Should she act as David was?

"Go home, Hodges," Hamish replied with a sly grin.

As David walked past Gayle and was hidden from Hamish's scrutiny, he winked at her, which told her he had been playing with Hamish by making submissive comments. It made her laugh to herself. David certainly was a character, and she decided she liked him a lot.

Hamish sat across from her and they remained silent for a moment. When she could take it no longer she said, "Sir, I've got the doctor's and Cherrydale papers you requested to see."

He simply nodded, straight-faced. "Stand."

She was stunned at his abruptness and froze. "Ms. Boyce, when I give you an order I expect you to follow it, without hesitation. Do you understand that?"

She nodded emphatically. "Yes Sir. I'm sorry, Sir," she mumbled as she stood up beside the chair. She didn't dare get closer.

He pushed his chair back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't apologize. Just do as you are told." He paused a moment. "Turn around."

She didn't delay. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she turned facing away from him.

"Remove your skirt."

That order made her heart skip a beat. She wanted to run off screaming, but that was impossible. Trying to stop her hands from shaking, she grabbed the waist, pulled it down to her ankles and stepped out of it, laying it neatly on the chair she had been sitting on. She was well aware she was flashing her ass at him, but she did as he asked.

Hamish grinned wickedly at her exquisitely perfect upside down, heart-shaped ass. "Hmm. Very nice. Now turn around and remove your blouse."

If her heart skipped a beat before, it almost exploded when she heard those words. Turning around, she brought her hands to the collar and quickly unbuttoned the first two buttons.

When he saw that she was not completely shaven as he requested, he was livid. It took all of his control not to show his anger. As calmly as he could, he said, "Slow down, lass."

Taking a deep breath, she undid the remaining four buttons slower but found it too difficult to pull the blouse off. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before summoning up the necessary courage. She took it off and spread it on the top rail of the same chair as her skirt.

And there she stood with her heart pounding in her chest and butterflies fluttering around in her stomach as she totally exposed herself to him. She couldn't control her body shaking or her blushing cheeks as he looked over her body.

Gayle was exactly as he had pictured her when he first saw her at the restaurant. No, she was even more beautiful. Her ivory skin looked so delicate, and it took all the control he had not to take her right then and there.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You have an exquisite body. Now, put your hands on the table, arms stretched, bend over and spread your legs."

She did as she was instructed, though it then felt her heart would definitely explode from her chest from pounding so hard. Whether it was the fact he paid her such a wonderful compliment or the fact she was completely naked in front of him she didn't know. She bowed her head and closed her eyes because she was so petrified she didn't want to look into his eyes.

He stood beside her a moment then asked, "Have you prepared yourself for me as I instructed?" Knowing the answer, he wanted to hear her say it.

She didn't answer quickly enough. He grabbed her hair at the crown of her head and pulled her head back, though not roughly. "Do I need to take you to the doctor to get your hearing checked?" he asked harshly into her ear.

She was terrified to answer, but she managed to mumble, "No Sir."

He let go of her hair, smacked her ass hard then gathered her hair again. Her eyes flew open, and she grimaced as her cheek stung, and she fought not to break down so soon.

"That was for you hesitating." His voice was beyond cruel. "Get used to this. I will do this every day, in case you've forgotten," he said sarcastically.

Keeping one hand in her hair, he stretched his other arm down to her crotch, grazing his fingertips against her skin just above her clit. Bending down a bit, he ran the length of his fingers on either side of her entrance. Bringing his hand back up, he ran his fingers on both sides of her labia but didn't touch her clit. Her body began to shake as his fingers explored her sex.

When she caught his facial expression, she froze when she saw the deep frown on his face and the anger in his eyes. After he leaned back up he let go of her hair and put his hands on his hips, then stared at her long and hard.

She knew exactly why he was livid. Looking straight ahead, she said, "Sir, I shaved three weeks ago, but --"

"Did I ask for your excuses, Ms. Boyce?" he barked. "You had a month to do it. And yet I find fucking stubble?! In fact it is not even stubble it is that long."

"Yes Sir, I know, but --"

She knew she had done wrong, but she never expected to feel as ashamed as she did at defying his order. When she met him at the restaurant, she had no doubt it was a game to him. Why she thought that way was beyond her.

He smacked her ass cheek even harder that time, forcing her to yelp in pain. "Shut it. So, how many spankings have you accumulated, minus ignoring the contract?" he asked tersely.

She couldn't think straight but recalled hearing him say 'four.' Before she could reply he smacked her right on the fleshiest part of her ass cheek on a new spot that stung even worse. She grunted loudly and gripped the edge of the table harder.

He leaned and asked sternly in her ear, "That's for your hesitation ... again. How many, Ms. Boyce?"

"Four, Sir."

As he stood back up, he said, "Your goal is to not make the coffee spill as I punish you. Think you can manage that?" His tone was deep and throaty.

"Yes Sir."

"And why do I have to do this so soon, Ms. Boyce?" That time when he said her name it was callously.

"For, um, not calling you Sir, Sir."

SMACK! His hand hit her squarely on her left cheek, causing her to emit a little squeak, but it wasn't hard enough to cause the table to move or bring tears to her eyes.

"Correct. But count them off."

"Yes Sir. One, Sir."

"Good. What else?"

"Sir, I um, Sir, I don't ... I don't know." She was horrified of the next impact and tightened her ass cheeks.

"Loosen your bum!"

No sooner had she done so he continued. SMACK! SMACK! The impact was much harder than the others. It stung horribly, and she thought she felt the imprint of each of his fingers.

"Two, three, Sir." She fought to keep the tears at bay, but her eyes had become moist.

"Did that help jog your memory?" he growled into her ear.

Suddenly it came to her. "Yes, yes Sir. I called you by your surname, Sir."

"Correct."

He slapped her ass once more then rubbed her cheeks slowly, not that that would alleviate the pain. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks as her ass cheeks began to tingle and burn.

She sniffled before she groaned, "Four, Sir."

Placing his hands on her shoulders, which were quivering badly by then, he pulled her shoulders gently then turned her around. She was expecting him to have the face of a male Medusa, but it wasn't. It was only a little cross.

"You will watch your step from now on. This is nothing compared to what I can really do."

Gathering her courage and what little pride she had left, she lifted her head and finally looked him in his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Yes Sir. I will. I'm sorry."

He looked over her shoulder. "No coffee spilt. I think that might deserve a reward. Let's take a quick walk around the lake."

"Yes Sir."

She reached for her clothes, but Hamish said, "Nu-uh."

"What, Sir? I can't go out there naked!"

"You won't be." He turned and walked toward the washer and dryer. "I have something for you to wear." A moment later he returned with an outfit and a pair of sneakers, which he handed to her.

She took them but then frowned at the outfit, which was seriously missing much needed fabric. Without it on her, all she could tell of it was it was black with sheer material; the bra was cupless, and there was a string throng attached.

After slipping on the panties she pulled the bodice over her head then pulled at the hem, which rested just at her crotch, but it didn't cover as much as she hoped. The sheer material rested snuggly against her hips on the side then thinned to a string just above the crack of her ass. The material over her stomach had a double arch inward that left her waist exposed and met just under the bra with a small, black bow. She tied it behind her easily enough.

Lastly, she tied the string of the bra behind her neck, making sure it didn't get caught on the collar. As she did she'd looked down and cringed at seeing half of each breast sticking out, as were her perky nipples.

"I feel ridiculous, Sir," she muttered under her breath.

"You look ravishing enough to eat. Put the trainers on. At the rate you're going the sun will be down before you're done."

She moaned when she sat down on her still-stinging ass to put on the shoes. "How did you know what size I wear, Sir?" she asked after she put them on.

"Lass, I observe everything about my employees."

She smiled. "Lucky guess, Sir?"

He actually chuckled. "Most definitely."

As she stood she couldn't help but notice the bulge in the crotch of his jeans. She'd figured he was an ass-man, and the thought made her smile inwardly. How the hell can he get a hard on just from spanking me a few times?! she wondered. She was afraid what would have happened to her if he spanked her more than he had.

Walking to the door with Hamish behind Gayle, he whistled loudly which made her jump. A rapid clicking of toenails and a low bark came from deep within the castle; the clicking grew louder and closer.

"Bessie! In here!" he yelled out.

A second later a black Labrador came tearing into the kitchen with her tail wagging wildly. Running to Hamish, she nestled her nose between his knees and let him pet her before she noticed Gayle. Bessie sneezed and shook her head before she approached the stranger. "Hey, girl," Gayle said as she bent over and put out her hand for Bessie to smell before she'd pet her. Looking at Hamish, who was smiling, she said, "You didn't tell me you had a dog, Sir. How old is she?"

Before he could answer, Bessie deemed Gayle an acceptable friend and jumped up; her paws resting on her thighs. "Get down you herbert," Hamish ordered sternly.

Obediently, Bessie settled down and padded to the door, turned around then looked at her master. After he opened the door she ran out about ten feet, stopped, sat on her hind legs and looked back toward the door, her tail still wagging furiously.

Allowing Gayle to walk through first, Hamish replied, "Bessie just turned a year. She was a rescue."

"Oh. She's very well trained."

"That she is. I've spent a lot of time with her. She does sometimes get too excited though and forgets, as you have just seen." "Don't you keep a leash on her, Sir?" she asked shocked as they started to walk, Bessie leading the way.

"Lord, no. That'd be cruel."

"Oh! No! I wasn't insinuating it was, Sir. At home it's a law."

"Here she gets the run of the estate, supervised of course. It's perfectly safe for her."

Watching Bessie closely, Gayle noticed that while it was still morning, the air was a little chilly with the light breeze. It did nothing to help prevent her nipples stand at attention as soon as she was out of the sun.

As they walked the path in the thin forest surrounding the sides and back of the house, Hamish followed behind closely behind Gayle. It wasn't that he was afraid he'd lose her but because he wanted a nice view of her backside instead of the same trees he'd seen since he was a child.

Gayle was well aware of the heat of his eyes piercing her back. Watching Bessie sniffing along the path, the silence between them was beginning to bug her. "Sir? Can you tell me a little about the castle?"

Running up to Gayle carrying a tree branch in her mouth, Bessie dropped the stick a few feet in front of Gayle. "Oh? You wanna play?" Gayle asked as she bent over, picked up the branch and threw it down the path. Bessie went running after it.

In bending over she had totally forgotten the wonderful view of her parts that she had just given Hamish.

"I don't take you for a dog person, Ms. Boyce," he commented, ignoring her question.

"I do prefer cats."

"Yes. That's what I just said."

His arrogance was beginning to grate on her nerves. "The castle, Sir?" she asked, trying to take the topic from him for a change.

"It was built by Raghnall Duncanstone in 1326. It was owned by that family for generations until Margaret Duncanstone married Fearghus McDougal. Their son, William, inherited the castle and land in 1498. It's been in our family ever since."

"When happened to the other side of the castle, the ruins?"

"That was destroyed during civil war. My 10th great-grandparents were killed while their son was off fighting. The neighboring clans helped to defend it but could save only the half that remains."

She was flabbergasted at what he'd said and stopped in mid-stride to turn around, but her feet got twisted with an exposed tree root, and she ended up falling back on her ass from the momentum. Her arms were holding her up behind her, and her legs were spread wide in front of him. The panty's thin material was pushed aside on impact, showing him all of her goods.

Bessie had seen Gayle go down and ran to her, licking her face to make sure she was okay. "Ow!" she cried out from the fall. Her face grimaced in pain then promptly brought her knees together. "I'm okay, Bessie. I'm okay."

Gayle thought it a bit rude that Hamish didn't ask if she was hurt. Instead she heard his laughter echoing through the trees. She looked up at him angry at first, but she wasn't sure if it was because he was laughing at her or the fact that Bessie kept licking her face. But she had to admit he had a wonderful, infectious laugh. Soon enough she was laughing with him.

He exclaimed, "I don't mean to laugh!" He never did stop laughing.

"Ha, ha. Sir," she grumbled as she tried to find a way to get up gracefully.

He was still chuckling when he bent over and extended his arm to her. She cautiously took his hand, and in one hard, swift pull she was on her feet. Wiping her ass softly she giggled. "Yeah, I guess that was pretty funny, Sir. But you could have caught me."

"Now, if I did that I wouldn't have seen that remarkable twat of yours."

She didn't have to know the translation of 'twat' to know what it meant. She glared at him, her anger slowly turning into a boil. "Sir, Mr. McDougal, Sir." A spanking be damned, she huffed to herself.

"Would it be too much to ask for you to treat me with just a little ..." She pinched her forefinger and thumb almost together, "... more ... more than a piece of meat?" She threw her arms up, huffed in frustration and stormed down the path, Bessie in tow.

"Ms. Boyce," he called out after her, but she ignored him. "Stop!" he screamed louder.

The anger in his voice made her stop, but she didn't turn around. Twigs snapped signaling his approach as she fisted both hands, closed her eyes tight and tried to control her breathing. "Sir, I shouldn't have --"

"Quiet!" he hissed as he stepped in front of her. "Your little outburst deserves another spanking, don't you think?"

A double-edge sword of a question if she'd ever heard one. She remained silent.

He put his hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump; he quickly removed it. Lowering and softening his tone, he said, "Look at me." She tried but couldn't. "Open your eyes."

Taking a deep breath she finally did. A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away. She wasn't crying because her ass hurt; she was crying because she was angry as hell -- with a bit of remorse for her screaming at him. I'll be dead by morning, she thought.

"You're right. I apologize for my language. You've been here for a few hours and ... I forget that you're new."

"New, Sir? You mean American."

"No. I mean new as in submissive." He suddenly slapped her ass cheek, causing a loud squeal to escape from her mouth. "That was for using my last name, not your outburst."

"Yes Sir. Maybe I overreacted, Sir."

He shook his head. "No, you didn't. But make no mistake, if you don't follow the rules you will be punished. It won't be immediate because I never punish when I'm angry, but I never forget a transgression."

"Yes Sir. I understand."

"I'm not a prat all the time."

She smirked. "Oh, god. Sir, we ought to write a book and name it 'The Prude and the Prat.'"

Hamish shook his head. "You must be dog tired. I believe you're delirious." He stepped beside her and nudged her shoulder gently. "Come on."

It wasn't long before they reached the lake, where Hamish threw a branch into the water and Bessie went right in after it.

Gayle noted that the trees from the other side reflecting off the water, giving it an almost ethereal appearance. The birds singing from the tops of the trees, the clean air and the warmth of the sun instantly calmed her. "Wow. I can see why you like it so much here, Sir. It's so serene here."

Bessie trotted out of the water and dropped the stick at Gayle's feet. Gayle had one of two ways to pick it up: She could turn her body one way to prevent an excellent, though very unladylike view of her tush at Hamish; or she could turn it another and have her tits target the ground. Remembering she had already accidentally done the first option, she chose the second.