Naughty Francy & The Scotsman

"I'm not hungry."

I'm with my boyfriend, the Scotsman, out at a nice pub in our neighborhood, supposedly celebrating our first anniversary as a couple, but I'm a bit pissed off because he got home late from a gig.

Sure, he apologized, saying it couldn't be avoided, but it annoyed me knowing that he didn't pass up that last drink with his musician friends since he knew tonight was our special night out.

I mean, come ON.

So, we're sitting at the table and the waiter is patiently waiting for my order, and, quite frankly, I have lost my appetite over this.

"Well, why don't ye just get a wee starter or somethin'?," The Scotsman says pleasantly.

"No." I say, petulantly.

He is not in the mood for this kind of thing tonight. "How about a salad or baked tattie?"

"No."

"Look, they have prawn cocktail, you like that don't you?"

"No."

"Fine then, then don't eat anythin'," he says and looks up to the waiter as he hands him our menus, "I'll have, eh, that pasta thing, he says pointing to it, "and the wumman's no wantin' anythin', thank ye very much."

He looks back at me with a smile in his big brown eyes and clasps his hands together.

"Gee, thanks a lot." I say sticking out my bottom lip just a bit.

"What?" says the Scotsman, "What did I do now?" He's been in the doghouse for the past week for no damn reason at all, as far as he's concerned.

"Well, what if I get hungry in a little while, you gave him our menus."

"Right. That's IT," he growls as he reaches out with his paw of a hand and grabs my hand.

He pulls me toward him a little and leans over the table. "I've HAD it, Francy," he whispers intensely. "This been goin' on all week ... when we get home you are going straight over my knee, Missy, and you are going to be very, very sorry."

A jolt of electricity shoots through me at the thought of being put over his knee. He's never talked this way before, I usually get my way, even if I do say so myself. Oh, he's threatened to spank me before in fun but then, when we'd get home, he'd flick on the TV and it's long forgotten.

It's a shame, too, cause as much as I adore him, part of me feels that maybe he doesn't really care for me as much I do for him. And if he really cared, he would remember something important like our anniversary or ... putting me over his knee.

We sit there, silently, he has his arms crossed and seems kinda teed off. I am definitely fully teed off.

Just then a cocktail waitress comes by and places my wine spritzer and the Whyte and Mackay he ordered on the table and, I must say, I'm not thrilled with the way his eyes seemed to linger a little on her boobs which were practically hanging out of her low cut top.

Humph. And here I am sitting in my cute little skirt and blouse, pretty darn low-cut as WELL, with no damn panties on. Just for him! I had planned to inform him of this little tidbit bout half way through dinner and let him slide his hand up my leg and under my skirt while we made our way through some crème brulee.

But apparently he cares way more for the skanky cocktail waitress than he does for me. I'm so hurt I could cry, but being the independent gal that I am, I come up with a plan.

I excuse myself to go to the ladies room passing a private dining area where a group of businessmen are having a meeting. Accidentally on purpose, I drop my purse and make sure when I bend over to pick it up that my short skirt lifts up to reveal my totally bare butt and pussy to my boyfriend. What I don't realize is that I also have revealed it to the executives, as well.

I turn and see the Scotsman sitting there, his eyes open wide. Mission accomplished! I then give him my best wicked smile and high-tail it on to the ladies room. The whole time I freshen up in there I smile to myself, knowing how turned on he'll be when I come out and how I had taken his mind off the stupid waitress.

I blot my lips and fluff up my hair and stride back out heading for our table. Just as I notice that the Scotsman is not waiting patiently there for me, I feel a vice like grip on my arm and feel his lips brush my ear.

"Right, Francy! You've DONE it this time, too far, just TOO far. I'm so BLOODY mad at you just now."

I have never heard him this angry before and it elicits a bizarre response from me - I start to giggle nervously. "Oh, come on," I say, "It's funny, though, isn't it?"

The Scotsman looks at me as if I have just dropped to earth from Planet Xenon.

"NO! Francy, it's NO fuckin' funny and what the fuck did you think you were doin' back there, wumman?'

"It's a little bit funny, dontcha think?" I can't believe how big his eyes have gotten as they threaten to pop out of his sockets at me.

He doesn't even answer me he's so mad, instead he takes me by my upper arm and WHACKS me really hard on the butt, right in front of the ladies room!

OW. I'm so shocked my mouth drops open. And to make matters worse, our waiter walks by just as he does and smiles broadly as he goes into the kitchen.

I'm shocked not only that he would do such a thing, he's usually so laid back ... but I'm also very surprised at how wet my pussy has suddenly become through this whole altercation. And, oddly, this all makes me giggle even more.

And the more I laugh, the more angry my Scotsman becomes ...

"What are you laughing about? Eh?" I try to stop and look serious but then burst out laughing again. "You bare your arse to all these men and think this is all fuckin' hilarious?"

"Yup," I snort.

I know, but I can't help it. The serious look on his face is cracking me up. I feel compelled to do this, not unlike a moth careening towards it's death by flame.

He is completely aghast at my response. Which, sorry to say, elicits more laughter from me. He pulls me so close to his face that I can feel his lips moving on my ear.

"STOP IT, right now," he says firmly through gritted teeth and SWATS me again on my butt, really hard this time. I giggle even more and my pussy just keeps getting wetter.

I just can't believe all this is really happening, I mean, people are starting to turn and look ... so I look deep into his eyes to see what is going on here. I wish I hadn't. He REALLY is mad. He isn't playing around this time.

I snicker.

Wrong move.

Suddenly I'm almost airborne, his vice-like grip on my arm has me sailing through the dining room. "I'll show you funny, Missy," he says in a frighteningly calm voice.

We fly past our table and chair. "Oh good, we're going home," I think. "We'll handle this privately." But NOOOOO. We are headed for the private dining room.

Uh oh.

He jerks me to a stop in front of the table where about 10 men varying in age from 20's to 50's, all dressed in suits with briefcases and paperwork on the table. They look up.

"Alright lads, my wumman, Francy here, has done somethin' wrong and she's goin' to say sorry to you all." he announces. "Right. Go on then, Francy."

I look out at him and then these guys and open my mouth to say something but all I can think is, "So, the fuck, what?"

I feel woozy from all this odd excitement, almost drunk. My mouth spreads into a lopsided grin and, in a move, I will very soon live to regret, I say ...

"How'd ya like it, boys!" not unlike a drunken sailor.

There is a moment of silence, the men stare at me not knowing what to make of any of this.

I can't even look at the Scotsman. I figure our next stop is the parking lot.

At that exact moment, our waiter walks in with a bussing tray. The Scotsman barks at him, "RIGHT! Fuckin' IN or OUT and close the bloody door while you are at it!"

The waiter steps in quickly and closes the door to the main dining hall.

The room is electric. I have no idea what is about to happen – the Scotsman lifts one of the empty chairs in the air like it were balsa wood and places it next to him, in front of the whole table. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

He wouldn't.

Uh, he would.

In one swift movement, the Scotsman sits his over 6' body down and pulls me across his knee like a rag doll, hissing in my ear "I warned you, Missy."

When he calls me "Missy", my pussy leaps. I LOVE it when he gets stern with me like this, his attention entirely focused on me, but part of me, inexplicably, fights it.

I'm trying to get up to no avail, he holds me down with just one of his big paws on my back. "I am in big trouble," I think. "Really big."

I feel the roughness of his jeans and the wool of his tweed sports jacket brushing against my face as I kick my legs trying to wrench myself free.

"Guys, sorry to do this ... but," he gives me a quick, sharp warning slap, "this has been a long time comin'. She's being a naughty lass and she needs to be taught how to say a proper apology to you."

With that, he lifts up my skirt exposing my bare round ass, "And ... to me."

OH MY GOD.

I feel the cool air and the eyes of all these men on my naked behind. He couldn't possibly --

WHACK!! He brings his huge hand down flat onto my cheeks ... HARD!

"OW," I cry out. "That HURTS, dammit."

WHACK!

"It's supposed to hurt, sweet Francy."

I can NOT believe he is actually SPANKING me in front of all these guys. My giggles stop. This HAD been funny at one time ... but this is way more than I bargained for. I try desperately to get out of his grip, my ass wriggling on his lap.

WHACK!!

"Say you're sorry, now."

"NO. Oh, you are in big trouble, Mister. Let me up RIGHT NOW!" I yell back to him, trying the tough guy approach.

WHACK!! "You're ... WHACK!! ... not WHACK!! ... going WHACK!! ... anywhere!!!"

And fail miserably. But, secretly, I am sooo excited now I want to jump out of my skin.

"And it you don't start doing what you're told, there's summore of the same here for ye!"

MY ass smarts like crazy and yet, somehow, my pussy is filled to the brim with juice. But I'll still be damned if I'll let him win. It's all his fault in the first place. I suddenly buck like crazy trying to get loose.

"I'LL DO WHATEVER I WANT!" I yell out in a suicidal attempt at anarchy.

WWWWWHACK!!! The Scotsman just laughs. I do believe he is enjoying this.

I crane my neck and look around ... he's not the only one enjoying it. The entire table of men as well as the waiter standing guard at the door have that sloe-eyed, slack jaw look on their faces of a man who's dick is tripling in size with great speed.

"You are not the boss of me." I spit out, amazing myself with my intellectual maturity.

"Oh, don't be givin' me any of your backtalk, Missy. If you know what's good for ye, you'll say you're sorry and be done with it."

"No."

WHACK.

"OWWW... That didn't tickle, you KNOW. STOP!!!" But I really don't want him to stop. Ever. EVER. I could spend the rest of my days over his knees, his hand slapping my ass.

"I'm sick of all this bloody whinin', wumman. Just apologize to the lads and we'll go home."

"No."

WHACK.

I think I'm wearing him down. If I play my cards right, his hand will tire before my ass does.

"Come on, Francy. It's killin' me doin' this to this beautiful arse. You know I don't want to hurt ye." He says, his voice cracking a bit with tenderness.

YES! I almost have him. He's cracking.

"Why don't you just whisper you're sorry to me and we'll call it quits?" he pleads sotto voce.

I arch my head up and he lowers his to me as my mouth starts to form the words "I'm sorry" ... but somehow they get twisted up and come out as ...

"Fuck you, man."

Clearly not the best choice at this particular juncture. Or ... is it?

I brace myself for his hand which comes down with such force on the lower part of my ass -- THWACKKKKK!!!! – that pussy juice squirts out onto it.

Oops.

It is now quite evident that the lady doth protest too much, indeed!

He looks down at his dripping hand, and I feel his big cock THWANG! to attention underneath me. He's a goner.

I wait.

No more spanking. My ass, which has been numb, is now suddenly coming back to life as blood rushes to it. It burns so much that only now do I feel like crying. I begin to quietly whimper as I lay there spent on his lap.

The Scotsman stares down at what he's done ... my ass so red with his very own handprints and he's filled with remorse. He looks up helplessly to the men who all stare at him, their hands in their pants.

"I dunno what came o'er me. My poor Francy's sweet behind ... and all o'er nothin', really."

One young men sitting closest to him fumbles through his gym bag and produces a tube of aloe cream and offers it to him, with equal regret.

The Scotsman flicks open the tube and squirts a large amount onto his hands, then rubs them together and ever so gently places both hands on my fiery cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, wumman. Let me make it better for ye."

I feel the cool cream on my hot skin, and, as he begins to slowly massage my cheeks with it I can feel the burning begin to subside. Aaaahhh.

The room is silent as his expert hands curve around my bottom ... mmmmmmmmm ... I've always melted at this man's touch. A slight moan escapes my lips and his already hard cock stiffens even more under my stomach.

I can't help myself, and begin to writhe a bit, moving my ass under his fingertips and as I do he slips them between the crack of my cheeks, his fingertips lightly grazing my assbud. When he does he sends a jolt through me and my ass flicks up to him.

He can never resist my ass and tonight is no exception ... I feel his thumb at the base of my spine travel down through the soft creamy aloe until it reaches my bud and stops there, lightly resting on it.

I wiggle and wave my ass at him hoping to get him to invade me until finally I push my ass up onto his thumb and it softly sinks into me. I groan out loud. He shudders as his cock bangs up at my tummy and twitches.

He slips his thumb deep in as I tilt my ass up even more to take him into me. When he can go no further, I feel his two fingers dip into my pussy, which is dripping wet. When he feels the pure wet heat of it, he thrusts his fingers deep into my pussy -- his hand like a pistol filling me up.

I groan more and raise myself up as he moves his hand in and out of my holes ... thumb and fingers slide in and out in unison. I hear a familiar growl emanating from him that I have come to know well and he lifts my ass up off his lap with his fingers deep inside --- swirling my ass in the air with his arm.

I whimper and moan until his growl turns into a quiet roar and he leans forward with his left arm and sweeps all the papers and dishes off the table in one motion then turns me over and lifts me onto the table, laying me on my back, his right hand fingers never leaving my pussy and asshole.

He bends over me, his left arm supporting his weight as his right hand continues to fuck me like a forty-five. The room is filled with moans, there is not a limp cock in the house.

I look up into his sweet brown eyes and take his face in my hands and say, "I'm sorry, baby." As I bring him down to me and softly kiss his eyes and cheeks and finally, his full soft mouth.

He slides his hand out of me and stands up, looking down at me.

"At last," he says and shakes his head ruefully.

I reach for him but he stays just outside of my reach.

"Come on ..." I say, egging him on.

"What?"

"You know..." I say. My pussy and ass are so lonely without him. I want him back inside me.

"Oh, you mean this?" With that he unzips his fly and his rock hard cock falls out.

"Yeah, that," I say, my pussy pulsing with desire for him.

"Well, I dunno there, Francy. I'm thinkin', do ya deserve it?"

"Oh, I do. You know I do." I say.

"Then show me, Lass." He says smirking in that familiar way.

I know what he wants me to do. I weigh it as I hear the young guy on my left breathing heavily and the sound of a dozen cocks jerking from all around the room. I know that doing what my Scotsman is asking will divest me of any sense of impropriety I may have left. I look into his eyes and know at once that I don't care any more. I just want him inside me where he belongs.

I lift my legs straight up into the air and spread them open, each to the side.

He looks at my pussy, smiling.

"I said, show me." He grunts.

I reach down with my fingers and gently pull my smooth pussy lips apart – first my full outer ones.

"Yes ... and?" he says, tauntingly.

He's making me go the whole nine yards I see ... so I put fingers just inside my wet inner lips and spread open my pussy as wide as I can, exposing my wet pinkness to him.

He grins admiringly and looks up to my face.

"Oh, are ya wantin' it then?"

I smile and nod happily.

He directs his throbbing cock to my pussy and ... just lets it rest there. ARRRGH. Torturing me STILL!!

I can feel his huge red head resting at the entrance to my pussy hole held open by my fingers and can't take the wait any longer. I let go and reach down and grab hold of his hips and ram him into me with all my might.

"Ahhh ... yes, THAT'S it, Lass."

We both groan with equal pleasure as his cock slides deep me, filling me each step of the way. I am overcome with remorse, myself. How could I have done that to him earlier ... embarrassing him like that, betraying him in a way. Am I a fool?? I nuzzle his neck and suck on his chin, looking deep into his eyes for forgiveness.

His thrusts slowly build as my hips rock with him as I arch my back and stretch like a cat underneath him. I love when he does this ... long deep thrusts that he slowly pulls out just to the tip ... waits .... and then slowly slides all the way into the hilt. He stares deep into me -- our eyes locked into each other ... when I feel a hard squeeze of my left breast. It's so hard it hurts and my eyes spring open to find it's not my Scotsman's hand but the hand of the young executive seated just inches away.

I wince and the Scotsman glances down, spying the stray hand.

"Don't FUCKIN' TOUCH HER!" I watch his eyes bulge out in a mix or horror and ecstasy as he flings his right arm over and catches the punk's face with the back of his forearm and knocks him backwards out of his chair.

"No ONE touches her. She's MINE!!" He roars, his cock still inside me, pumping me faster now. And faster still.

He's ferocious now and even angry a little at me, I sense, for getting us into this. I can feel it as he spreads my pointed legs wide and pushes them straight up to against my breasts and begins to pound into my pussy, his shoulders pinning them to my own.

"Get OUT. Get the fuck OUT now!" he yells as the young man picks himself up off the floor.

"That goes for the lot of ya. This has NOTHIN' ta do with ye. OUT!!!"

The guy frantically gathers his stuff and flees as do the others leaving me and my Scotsman alone for the first time all night.

The room is totally quiet as he looks down at me and stares into my eyes. I'm trying to read his expression as he slowly withdraws his cock from my pussy.

What?? I feel bereft. Empty. Abandoned.

"Nooo ... where are you going?" I ask pitifully.

He look at me wickedly and I suddenly feel the head of his dripping wet cock tapping at my little lonely assbud, moist from my own juices.

He purrs in his sweet, gruff voice ... "Here, is where I'm headed."

"Ohhhh," I half-say, half-moan.

His eyes narrow as he looks down at me. He still hasn't forgotten, I can tell. "Are you my wumman?" He asks, serious now.

"Mmm ... yes," I softly reply.

He slides into my asshole more quickly then he normally would. It feels strangely good though.

"I said, are you my wumman, Francy?" In a low, guttural voice that I feel deep in my core.

"Yes," I say a bit louder.

He thrusts again. And again. Grunting as he does. The feel of him filling my ass is making me sooo wet.