Aprons For Gayle Ch. 08

"Shit! I should have lied," she said then chuckled.

"Oh, but if you did that I would have known you were, and then I'd have to add that punishment to my ever growing list. Just lie back and work through it."

She groaned from the back of her throat and prepared herself.

Taking her nipple with his fingers, he pinched it and brought the clothes peg closer. "This won't be as bad as the clamps, but I'm also going to bring it closer to the tip. You'll be able to handle it."

He placed it halfway down the bud and secured it before quickly placing the other. Her breathing was much faster, but she didn't seem stressed. "How's the pain?"

"Much bett' than th' clamps ..."

Getting to his feet, he kept repeating, "Relax, breath."

Scooting back a little so he could have access to her pussy, he turned the vibrator on and she practically jumped a foot off the bed. "No. NO!! Not a ... hmmmpphhh ..."

He chuckled at her reaction, as he'd brought the vibrator to her clit and let it rest for a few seconds then removed it. Her body relaxed somewhat, but her hands remained fisted.

"Gayle, from now on I want you to use 'red' as soon as you feel yourself about to come. I will pull back to allow you to calm down. I want to take you to the edge but not tip over. I want you to become familiar with that feeling so you can prepare yourself to hold back. I might do it once, or I might do it ten times. But you will NOT come. Do you understand?"

Trying to catch her breath, she squeaked, ""Red,' no coming. Yes Sir. Got it."

She didn't, not really. Her body was aching beyond humanly possible, and she had no control whatsoever ... and that's exactly what he wants, Gayle, you dumb ass! she came to realize. She was in some serious shit.

Hamish turned the vibrator back on and ran it the full length of her opening, the juices making it glide easily. Sliding the tip if it under the hood, he left it there and let it build, and build, and build.

Her hands were no longer fisted but were grabbing at the bed sheets in clumps. She bit her tongue fighting back, and he was pleased she was trying. Flicking it back and forth fast on the clit several times, gradually adding pressure, he could tell she was getting close, even though she hadn't called her color.

Slowly he lightened the gyration and slid it down to her pussy, bringing it up and down until it was sufficiently wet. Carefully and slowly he inserted it, not going in deep at first, but taking it out just a little and reinserting it. He never took his eyes away from her face.

She growled from the back of her throat as he pushed it in further. "Control your breathing, love. Fight it."

For a minute or so he fucked her with the vibrator, slowly and with purpose. With every passing second her reactions grew more forceful as she fought off the urge to orgasm.

When he saw she was close to the edge, he asked, "Gayle, what's your color?"

"Yyyyellosredddish," she muttered.

Immediately he stopped the penetration and pulled it out just a bit so the tip was just inside her. "Good girl, good girl. Deep breaths."

She did so, and it helped tremendously. Within a minute or so she had calmed down, prompting him to continue. And he did with gusto, but this time he pressed his forefinger on her clit.

A moment later he was jealous of the damned vibrator and wished it was his own hard, throbbing cock inside of her. Listening to her whine and cry out he was half expecting her to orgasm at any minute, but she held off. So he simply ran his finger over her clit harder and faster until her entire body shuddered, her legs tensed and she screamed out, "RED!"

A split second later the orgasm coursed through her, though she didn't squirt that time. As she came, she pushed the vibrator out hard, whining constantly and breathing heavily. Then it dawned on her what she'd done.

"Ssssir, 'm sssory," she barely managed to say.

Without a word, he turned his body and twisted both clothes pins a quarter before clipping them off. She gasped at the unexpected pain. "Plll ... please don't be mad."

"Too late, Ms. Boyce." His use of her surname cut right through her.

He untied her wrists and legs, but she was afraid to move for fear of what he'd do. But he surprised her. Standing beside the bed, he put his hand out for hers. "Love, you've bled a little. Grab some underwear and let's go get you cleaned up."

"Yes Sir," she replied.

After he removed the restraints, she took the towel and vibrator to clean then followed him to the bathroom. He instructed her to clean herself while he took a seat on the opposite end of the tub. She was grateful for cleaning up in a way. She wasn't sure exactly how he'd treat her since she'd done the one thing he told her she couldn't do. The damned childhood butterflies first erupted in her stomach before they trailed to her ass. She hated the feeling.

When Gayle was done, she put the pad and underwear on, not even caring that Hamish was watching every move she made. She wondered why, considering it wasn't like she'd want to get herself off since she'd already come. But she was getting used to it.

He had gotten the cream for her infected hand and sat back down on the tub, telling her to stand in front of him so he could apply it. She was touched for some odd reason. As he applied it, his hands were so gentle that it didn't even hurt, though only then did she realize how badly it had been itching and stinging. Then he put some more Calendula cream on the still-irritated spots on her waist and back before talcing the rest.

"Thank you, Sir," she said when he finished.

"You're welcome." He put his hands on her hips and squeezed a little. "I'm not mad, but you should know I will have to punish you."

The butterflies she'd had in her stomach then exploded. "I understand, Sir."

"Truth be told, I was fully expecting you to orgasm sooner than you did. I had to gauge your tolerance."

She nodded, not sure what to say. He reached up, took her face and pulled her down to him. "I am proud of you."

He rubbed his bottom lip against her top, hinting to her to open her mouth, which she eagerly did. As before, the heat between them burst through their lips, igniting a totally new sensation for her.

"Clean up your mess and meet me in your bedroom." He wore a smile, so she wasn't offended with his tone.

A few minutes later, she laid down on the bed and he pulled the duvet over her, tugging her in playfully. She smiled at him ... until he grabbed something above her, locked what turned out to be handcuffs that were already around a post on the headboard around her wrists, and stood up staring down evilly.

"Ham ... Sir?! What are you doing?!" She pulled at them but there was no way she'd get free.

"Ms. Boyce, did you think I would leave you alone without the belt and take the chance of you coming again?"

"Well, yes, I would have thought ... But, Sir, I can't sleep like this!"

"Oh, yes you can. If you twist your arms just right you can even lie on your side."

She hated his tone. "Sir, please, I'm begging you."

"Yes, you are."

He bent over and gave her another quick kiss, but she turned her head away. There is no way in hell I'm kissing your ass for doing this to me! she screamed to herself.

"Sleep well, little fawn," he said with a soft smile.

He grabbed the bag of toys and walked out, leaving the door open.

"Sir!" She clinked the handcuffs loudly. "You can't leave me like this!"

He disappeared down the hall for a brief moment before he went into his bedroom and closed his door.

Poor Gayle started to cry, still struggling and screaming, and it went on for a good ten minutes before she finally fell to sleep from exhaustion. In truth, the handcuffs had been padded and weren't uncomfortable, but it was the principle of the whole thing that exhausted her.

Hamish, on the other hand, simply chuckled when he heard the screaming stop. He turned the lights off, slipped into bed and told Bessie as she lay beside him, "You were much easier to train."

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 7, 2014

Gayle was having a dream that she was walking through an operating car wash, the wide, sudsy strips of cloth wiping at her body and face, though she had no problem breathing and wasn't drowning. Then the cloths became grainy and she was becoming unsteady on her feet, the cloth strips suddenly invading her mouth. Only then did she feel like she was starting to choke.

"Bessie!" came a whispered voice from outside the small building. It was familiar, and it belonged to a man she wanted nothing to do with any longer. "Don't you wake her up! Come!"

Suddenly the building started to shake violently and she woke up with a start, her arms in front of her face to stop the onslaught of the soapy water. She sat up and looked around as if she were waiting for another cloth to scrape across her face. But she saw Bessie walk toward the doorway, then followed the feet to the face of the man she despised the most in the world. She frantically wiped her mouth with the back of her hand when she realized it had been the bloody dog's tongue in her mouth.

"Sorry Bessie woke you. You can sleep in for another thirty minutes."

Then it dawned on her that she wasn't wearing the handcuffs he had put on her the night before. She looked at the headboard thinking she'd slipped out of them while she slept. And she shivered when she discovered she'd kicked all the bed sheets off of her while kicking her feet during her temper tantrum.

"I just took them off, which is what made Bessie jump on your bed."

"Oh. Does ... Do you want me to take Bessie out?" she asked, trying to keep her tone even as the anger at being tied to the bed started to build.

"If you don't mind. Wait while I get the chastity belt."

She then lost all self-control. "Sir, after you locked me to the damned headboard so I wouldn't play with myself, do you think --"

She stopped herself when he glared at her, his eyes deeply furrowed and looked as if he would throw his slipper at her. "Ms. Boyce, you've demonstrated you don't quite trust me yet, and the same goes for me. No, I do not trust you."

"Oh, for God's sake! Women don't wake up with boners like you men do, so I think it's pretty safe to say if I'm only letting Bessie out so I'll have no time to get myself off."

If she thought he couldn't look angrier, she was sorely mistaken. Looking down at Bessie, he asked her, "I think that reply deserves five with the paddle for her disrespecting me. What do you think?"

The dog wagged her tail and barked softly.

"Yep. I think so too." Looking back at Gayle, he said, "You have seven minutes, and I will be timing you."

"Whatever," she huffed as she got out of bed and walked toward the door.

Trying to slip past him, he grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stop dead, and he peered down at her. "Ms. Boyce?"

She swallowed hard, knowing she'd gone too far, yet again. "Yes Sir?" The title stuck on the tip of her tongue like a lemon wedge.

"Why don't you surprise me with breakfast, but not bacon and eggs?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"And you have another five coming for that smart assed retort."

Stopping herself from sighing, she replied, "Yes Sir. Come on, Bessie. You'd better pee quickly." Walking down the hall, she turned around and looked at Hamish. "Am I allowed to hate you?" Well, that's another five, I'm sure, she thought.

"You can hate me all you want. It doesn't bother me in the least. But I am still your employer, and I still deserve respect."

She took in his words before she nodded and headed down the stairs. "Your daddy is a pain in the ass, girl," she whispered.

"I heard that! Another five!" came a dismembered voice from upstairs.

He hadn't heard what she said. He just figured she would sass him and took a chance. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to make it hurt when he paddled her. He just didn't want her to know that.

While she walked around outside with Bessie, she remembered he said she could call home that night. She assumed she'd be calling her dad after dinner, and with the time difference he would just be coming home from work, so it would work out well. That put a pep in her step and made her want to behave ... she NEEDED to behave.

Going back upstairs to the bathroom, she was relieved to see she was no longer bleeding, but that only meant she'd be wearing the damned belt all day. She cleaned her hand, which was still red but not as itchy. Stepping into her room, she saw Hamish's bedroom door open, but she couldn't see him.

Standing in the doorway, she knocked on the door and asked, "Sir? Are you ready to put the chastity belt back on me?"

"Nmph. Hmph bute 't onh afdr bhmd bee ead."

"Huh?" she asked when she realized he was in the bathroom and must have been brushing his teeth.

He ran some water then a second later met her at the door. "I said no, it's fine. I'll put it on after we eat. Just bring it downstairs with you."

She stood there frozen, staring at him with his damp, unkempt hair; a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad, tight chest begging for her fingers to explore every inch of him ...

"Ms. Boyce! Is there anything I can do for you?"

When she looked up into his face, one eyebrow was raised curiously, and he wore an evil grin. "Uh? Oh, um, no."

They stood staring at each other waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the awkwardness. When he didn't, she turned and went to her bedroom and put on her cooking apron -- she'd named her aprons for the duties. She'd worn it before. It was the one with the white sheer cover over the front and black apron that she'd worn at the lake.

Heading downstairs, she made coffee and fed Bessie. After perusing the cupboard, she saw some honey and walnuts and decided to make her mom's soft boiled eggs over toast and oatmeal with the honey and walnuts.

Just when everything was done and the oatmeal was perfectly cooked in the pot, she heard Bessie before she saw Hamish enter the kitchen, looking hot and sexy in his business suit.

She chuckled. "Sir, I don't think you'd ever be able to sneak up on me with Bessie at your side."

"Snap," he replied as he poured his mug. "I think we'll eat ..." He sipped the coffee then ran to spit it out in the sink. "Holy hell, woman!" he cursed. "What the shyte did you do to this coffee?!" He wiped his mouth and tongue with the dish towel, sputtering and spitting.

She shot him a confused glance because she hadn't poured herself any yet, and she didn't know what he was talking about. "What's wrong with it?"

"I need a strainer to drink this from all the grounds."

He showed her the cup and sure enough, the surface was thick with the tiny granules. She was pissed at herself for screwing up something so easy. "Well, shit. I'm really sorry."

He chuckled. "No worries. Here, let me show you again."

She was shocked senseless that he wasn't angry. "Thank you, Sir. I'd appreciate it." As she watched him make a fresh pot, she exclaimed, "Oh! I forgot the ... I've got it now."

He turned, leaned against the counter and watched her as she put the eggs on their plates. "What the bloody hell is that?" he asked, looking at the loose, softly boiled egg and toast mixture.

"It's what Mom would make when Catelyn and I were sick, but it's really filling. I can make something else if—"

"Didn't I say no eggs?" he asked angrily.

I am NOT going to let you to get to me! she thought. Hesitating a moment, she replied. "Sir, you said no bacon and eggs. This isn't bacon and eggs. It's eggs and toast." Then she held her breath.

He laughed. "Just testing you. And it's quite fine. Gran made something similar to this as well. I'll be happy to try it."

As she put oatmeal in the bowls, he asked, "Why are the oats all chunky?" His expression looked completely disgusted.

Are you going to criticize everything I do?! she thought. Before she could stop herself, she huffed, "Damnit!" Forcing her anger down, she said calmly, "And I thought I was a picky eater." She kept her tone light and playful so he wouldn't take the truthful comment as disrespect.

"Wow, I'm impressed. That was quick thinking for that comeback. I think I'll take off three swats with the paddle."

She smiled, relieved. "I'll accept the five swats," she offered.

"Six for arguing with me."

"Damnit! Fine. I'll take the three off."

"Nope. Offer is off the table."

"Well, fuck. I just screwed myself again."

He laughed long and hard. "You do make me laugh. How about we eat in the morning room."

"That sounds nice. Where is a tray I can use?"

He showed her where it was, and she loaded it up and added a pitcher of orange juice. Taking the handle, she lifted it a few inches then took in a sharp breath through her teeth before setting it back down. Shaking her right hand, she asked, "Sir? I don't think I can carry this without dropping it. Would you mind taking this?"

"Of course."

A few minutes later they were settled in the morning room at the table by the window, Bessie sitting at Gayle's feet, apparently hoping Gayle was more lenient with sneaking her a treat rather than Hamish. Eating slowly and watching his reaction as he tried her Americanized meal, he really seemed to like it.

Taking a bite of the oatmeal, he said, "Hmm. This is delicious! Think maybe you could add raisins in this next time?"

Her pride exploded and she smiled broadly, relaxing. "Oh! I never thought of that. Sure thing. How do you like the eggs? Honestly."

"It needs salt and pepper and try bread crumbs to give it some substance."

She smiled, not taking his constructive criticism to heart. "Don't forget the prescription and the blood pressure monitor, please, Sir."

"I'll get them at lunch. So, what are you doing Saturday?"

What kind of question is that? she wondered. Thinking a moment, she replied, "Anything you tell me to do."

He gave her a smug grin. "Good answer. I'm taking you and Bessie somewhere. I haven't taken her there in weeks."

"Any hint as to where?" she asked hopefully.

"Nope, none whatsoever."

"Well, poop."

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked, his voice feigning being hurt.

She wanted to be; it was easier to be angry with him so she wouldn't feel what she was beginning to feel about him. "Nah, not since you're taking me out. Think maybe, if I am good, you can show me around some more every weekend ... if you're not busy or anything?"

He nodded. "It would be my pleasure."

And on that final note, she was placed back in the dreaded belt with butt plug and sent off to work, cleaning his bedroom and bathroom first then decided to hit the large drawing room and the morning room.

------------------------

CUPAR TOWN CENTRE, Hamish's Office

After lunch, Hamish had settled down at his desk to begin work, but when he turned on the cameras, he had to search each room before finding Gayle in the large drawing room. She was looking at the cabinet with his CD collection below the music system with interest. He couldn't help but smile when she looked at the system more closely, as if to see if it was easy to operate so she could play music while she cleaned. But when she picked up the three remotes her shoulders bobbed then she put them back. He made a mental note to show her how to use it without it being obvious he had been watching her.

Again he was captivated watching her movements and how gracefully she flowed around the room. It was a few minutes later before he noticed she was favoring her left leg and wondered if the blister was returning.

"Well, hell," he mumbled.

Sending her a message, he chuckled as she jumped when it rang and took it out of her apron pocket. Looking at it, she sat down and fiddled a second to figure out how to use the instant message feature.

His phone vibrated, and he read, 'Its fine Sir.'