Aprons For Gayle Ch. 08

'Are you lying?' he sent back then looked at the monitor.

She had taken off her right heel and was rubbing her big toe, right where the blister had been before. Picking up her phone, she grinned then typed.

'Yes Sir.'

'OK to put on trainers. 1derful brekkie btw'

'Thank u! Glad u liked'

'C u later'

He watched her smile and mouth something to Bessie. Unbeknownst to her, though, he could read lips fairly well. 'Your daddy isn't a dickhead after all!'

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With her hand being out of service, so to speak, she wasn't able to polish the floors the way she wanted to, but she did tackle the morning room and half of the large drawing room before she ran out of time. But still, she was happy with what she'd done.

By then, her palm had become unbearably itchy and burning, even though she put the hydrocortisone on it twice. The belt was once again chaffing her waist.

After bathing and cleaning up afterward, she spent some time with Jessie in the kitchen, setting the alarm for six so she wouldn't be late to 'her spot.'

Right on time, she sat naked on the floor by his recliner, her heart pounding waiting to hear any sound from the front door.

A moment later, she heard, "Little Miss Mop, I'll be right back down!" Bessie ran out to meet him, then human feet and puppy paw steps marched up the wooden stairs.

When it was quiet, she fixed his drink and set it on the coffee table then knelt again. As before, he came in, picked up 'The Scotsman' and his glass, took a sip before he sat down and she slipped his slippers on without any prompting.

When she got settled again, he asked, "How is your hand?"

Looking up at him, her words caught in her throat when she saw how handsome he looked. The color of his shirt made his eyes seem a darker shade of the brilliant cornflower blue than they already were. They seemed to laser right into her soul.

"It's itchy and painful and my left hand is killing me from using it so much and my shoulders are killing me." Then she chuckled at her rambling.

"And your foot?"

"Much better after I put on the sneakers. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, I made you a promise. Would now be a good time for you to call home?"

Her eyes flew open and she smiled widely. "Yes! Dad should be at lunch now, so ..."

He picked up his phone, dialed a few numbers then handed it to her. "I've typed in the international code, so just dial the ten numbers. I'll take Bessie out. Holler when you're off."

"Thank you, Sir. I'll keep it short."

"Just keep it under an hour," he teased then left her alone.

She was so nervous she had trouble remembering the number, but she dialed correctly. The second her father answered his phone she fought the tears. "Dad, how are you?!"

Forty five minutes later, she met Hamish at the fountain in the back and sat down beside him. "How are you holding up, love?"

She was so mentally numb she hadn't caught the pet name. "Umm," she mumbled, and broke down in tears.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her, rocking gently back and forth to let the tears of frustration and pain run its course. His heart broke for her, though not as much as hers had, he knew.

Ten minutes later, she was down to cry-hiccups, and she held onto him less and less. "I'm always here if you need to talk," he offered.

She nodded and pulled her head away though couldn't look him in the face. "I know. Thank you, Sir."

"Let's get some nibbles in you. Think it's burnt by now? If it is we have plenty of leftovers," he said, hoping to get at least a smile.

He succeeded. "I think so. Sir? I'm sorry about --"

Affectionately he kissed her forehead. "No apologies, ever. Hear me?"

"Yes Sir." Suddenly her cell phone alarm rang. Chuckling, she turned it off. "Dinner's ready."

They both laughed and were soon seated at the kitchen table. Dinner was fairly quiet because he knew how much she was hurting. He didn't want to push her, not on something as emotional as the topic of her family. Basically the only conversation was him telling her that for Friday's supper they would have the leftovers, and that Jessie wouldn't be coming over at all.

Gayle had to wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing, considering Friday evenings were her punishment nights.

After they ate, he showed her how to take her blood pressure reading with the machine, and it was lower than when Dr. Jack, as she called him, took it, but it wasn't what he'd told her it should be. She finally confessed it was probably because she'd just been fitted for the chastity belt and the pressure of making sure she followed his instructions when he arrived home, not to mention the pain of her hand from landing in the nettles. He seemed to agree.

He told her to clean up the kitchen and meet him in the small drawing room. When she walked in, she met him at his recliner. He leaned forward on the cushion and asked, "Are you alright now?"

She nodded. "Yes Sir. Eating helped."

"Good."

Without a word, he removed the belt, leaving the butt plug in. "Kneel before me, facing away, knees together but relaxed."

When she was in position, he reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading the tight, sore muscles. A moment later she gurgled and moaned, tilting her head so he could reach different muscles. His strong thumbs dug at a knot, causing her to groan loudly.

"Too much?"

"Hell, no Sir! It's ... hmmphrg ... fucktastic."

He chuckled at her word but didn't stop massaging. The more she loosened up and conceded to him, the more excited he became; his hardened cock was proof of that. Leaning forward, he kept his hands busy while he began to kiss and nibble the base of her neck before moving to the crook. He was fully aware of the goose bumps that spread from the spots down her arms and knew he was having a very positive effect.

Licking his way from the crook to her ear, he flicked his tongue over the lobe once before he kissed it, took it between his lips and nibbled, gradually increasing the pressure. Her breathing instantly increased, and she began to fall back into him.

Since she'd been so upset with the phone call, he decided he wasn't going to edge her that night, though Hamish Jr. would have strongly protested that decision if it could.

Pushing her forward, he said, "Snuggle with me."

Once she was comfortably sitting in his lap, she happily put her head on his collarbone and bent her knees toward him, almost in a fetal position; he put his hand on her thigh and rested it there. He had to readjust his own legs to support her, and he was fine with that. Just having her in his arms was nice. It tugged at his heart strings in a way he hadn't expected, and he didn't fight it.

She raised her hand to his forearm and held onto him, pulling his arm closer to her like a blanket. "Sir? May I ... Is this OK?"

He lowered his head down to look deeply into her eyes and smiled. "Yes, you are allowed to touch me. Thank you for allowing me the honor," he teased.

"Anytime. But seriously, I haven't been here a week and it's this hard being away from them? I'm gonna be a mess at Christmas." She nestled back into him and sighed heavily to rid herself of the remaining stress in her body.

"Have you Americans ever heard of Skype?" he asked sarcastically.

She tilted her head further back, still against his collarbone. "Would you ... I mean, I could?"

"You can open your gifts together, though post them three weeks before. You can even eat dinner together, if you'd like. You seem to forget I want you happy working here. I want YOU happy."

Her eyes glistening with a new onslaught of tears, this time happy tears. "No, none of that," he chastised her.

Taking one last deep breath to calm down, she grinned sheepishly. "Sir? In that case, would you let me play some music while I clean? You have some cool CDs I'd love to listen to, if you don't mind."

He smiled back. "Of course I wouldn't mind. I'll show you how to turn them on before we go to bed. Now hush and let's watch some TV."

Flicking it on, he found 'Only Fools and Horses' on Sky, but she couldn't really get into it. She was glad he was so understanding and supportive of her feelings. Maybe being there wouldn't be so bad, as long as he kept being so damned sweet.

Without realizing she said it out loud, she whispered, "But I still hate you." Then she chuckled to lessen the blow.

He roared in laughter, their bodies both shaking together, in rhythm, as one.

"My precious little fawn, I would expect nothing less of you. Now will you shut up so I can watch Del Boy fall through the hatch."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it seems as if I'm covering every single day, but after the first week time will go by much, much quicker.