Aprons For Gayle Ch. 20

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to MastersWench for another kick in the right direction. I can't get credit for Tuesday, as it was written by Scooter months ago. He wanted to share his expertise, giving us the wonderfully descriptive experience at Portmoak. Give him the props he deserves!! And thanks to him for editing.

We last left off with Hamish and Gayle talking about his screw up, though no forgiveness was given for him breaking her hard limit. They had a wonderful night at the charity event, where Hamish bid and won on a weekend at Glamis Castle. Most importantly, Gayle and Hamish finally ... FINALLY admitted they have feelings for each other.

Sunday, September 22nd, 2013

"Msss. Boyyyyce."

For the past ten minutes, Hamish had been trying to wake up Gayle with a steaming cup of coffee under her nose, of course it had been steaming hot but had now cooled to a comfortable lukewarm. She never flinched, lying dead as a door nail on her stomach, her hand under her chin.

Looking at Bessie, who was settled on his side of the bed, he said, "Alright, you may now attack your dunderheed playmate."

Slowly crawling closer to Gayle, her tail wagging, Bessie licked Gayle's hand, but still she didn't move. "I said attack, notlick her to death!" The dog just looked at her daddy like he was speaking feline.

"Alright. You have left me no choice, little one."

Setting the mug on the nightstand, he stood by the bed, put his hands on the mattress beside her and bounced on it hard. "Ms. Boyce! You have to clean my house! It's mingin!" he shouted.

Though she didn't move an inch, she slowly opened her eyes, focused them and finally set her gaze on Hamish. "Its'ph Fataredaaaay," she muttered, her lips parting only a centimeter as she spoke.

"No. Actually, it's Sunday, and it's almost ten."

"'m not 'hungry anyway. Hobe you had dinnnnn ..."

Shaking his head, he snipped, "If you don't get up in the next ten minutes, you will be required to wash the windows ... with your tongue."

"M'kay."

He tried not to laugh, which was easy because he knew how bad she was probably feeling. So, he tried a trick Jessie would pull on him in his younger days when he'd been out drinking and in bed until early afternoon. He hadn't built a fire yet because he hadn't planned on staying in bed all day, so it was somewhat chilly in the room. Grabbing the duvet and bed sheet, he pulled them both down to her feet.

At first she didn't object or even mumble, but soon enough she started to shiver and slowly awakened. Rolling onto her back, she was met with a slobbery canine tongue on her cheek.

"Ah! Eck! Gross, dog! Hmmphggg, shhh! Shhhh! Bessie," she whispered, "Don't talk so loud, pooch," she grunted. Sitting up with a groan, she held her head in her hands. "Sir, I thought you said that crap you gave me wouldn't give me a hangover."

"Hmm, apparently it only works on us Scots."

"Riiight." She snickered then instantly regretted it.

"Now that you're up, join me downstairs in the kitchen. You need to eat something before you take some aspirin."

She tilted her head up and looked at him through her fingers. "Can' I just mee' a guillotine?"

"If you don't get your arse out of bed, I'll have no choice."

"Okay. Okay."

Early afternoon ...

"Aunt Shirley! Hi! How are you?!"

Gayle had just connected to her aunt Shirley in Maryland on Skype in Hamish's library. Her hangover headache was all but gone, although she still felt like she'd been through a meat grinder.

Although his library had been off limits since her arrival, since he no longer had the cameras connected to the rooms she cleaned, he had no worries whether she would accidentally find the application. However, he did keep the two cameras over the front door and the kitchen door.

"Hello, hun! You look exhausted," her aunt said.

"Yeah, hung over from the charity event. Didn't you get the pics I sent earlier?"

"Yes! I did! I havenever seen you look so beautiful."

"Thanks. Actually, I'm feeling better. Hamish made this -"

"Gayle, where's Hamish? Can he hear you?" Shirley interrupted.

"No. He's out right now doing ... something. He's been kind of secretive lately. Said he's been doing a lot of research for a client of his."

"Good. I want you to tell me all about him," she said with a huge smile.

Gayle's cheeks burned red, and she knew she couldn't lie to her aunt. They'd been close since she was a child - she'd always been there for her niece through confusing and difficult homework, boys, teaching her cross stitch. She wasn't about to jeopardize their relationship when she needed her the most, but still, she remained silent.

"Gayle, honey, Catelyn told me you're his submissive, and it's -"

"Shewhat?!" Gayle bellowed. "I'm so gonna kill her!"

"Calm down, right now. I saw the way you looked at Hamish in the picture. I've never seen anyone look at another with so much ... Are you falling for him?"

"What? No! He's my boss!" Shirley laughed, and that angered Gayle, but only because her aunt read right through her. "Oh, Shirley! I don't know!" She whined, putting her forehead in her palm. "Most days he's sweet and funny, and he is good to me, but -"

"It's perfectly natural to form a strong physical attraction to your Dom. I know I sure did before I met your Uncle Art."

Gayle wasn't sure she heard her aunt correctly and looked at the monitor. "Um, what did you say?"

"Oh, you heard me. Don't be so shocked. I'm no fuddy duddy! I'm the 'fun' aunt, remember? Sweetie, I fell in love with my only Dom my first year of college, but we just weren't meant to be together. Now, you and Hamish, on the other hand ..."

"Aunt Shirley!" she gasped. Gayle didn't know whether she was more shocked at her aunt's confession or what she insinuated.

"Now, tell me all about it."

Gayle didn't go into heavy details regarding what happened with Hamish crossing her humiliation limit, but she did admit that they had confronted what they were feeling for the other. Gayle hated the sheepish grin Shirley gave her, but she always had a way of telling her niece what she didn't want to hear.

They spent an hour with Gayle asking questions and Shirley patiently answering them. The weight that Gayle had over her slowly evaporated, and the talk really helped set her mind at ease. With the last of the advice, she had a renewed mindset being Hamish's submissive.

"Honey, as long as you know Hamish won't hurt you, take your time in Scotland to discover yourself. Just remember, it'll be over in February. Ask yourself whether you'll be able to let him go."

"How do I do that, Aunt Shirley?" Gayle asked, finding herself backed into another corner.

Just after 5:00 p.m. ...

Hamish entered the kitchen just after four and stopped dead in his tracks when he caught a whiff of the most delicious scent he'd ever smelled in a kitchen - even from Jessie's pot roast. Setting his briefcase in the dining table's chair, Bessie burst into the room, wagging her tail and barking her hello.

"Bessie!" Gayle hollered from the hallway. "I've got to set the table before you daddy gets -" When she walked into the kitchen and saw Hamish, she said, "Hello, Sir."

As she walked in, he asked, "What smells so delicious?"

"Mom's beef brisket. I got the recipe from Aunt Shirley. I thought I'd try something ... nice for a change. I've never made it before, so I hope it's good. I've got canned soup on stand-by." She laughed nervously, embarrassed at her rambling on.

"I'm sure it'll be fantastic. I look forward to it. Did you talk to your family?" She nodded. "How's your mum?"

"She's stable, Sir. Dad said she's got some color back in her cheeks, but her vitals keeping jumping all over the place."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope she gets stabilized. Do you think it'd be possible for the facility to get an internet connection to Skype your mum?"

Her eyes widened, and it took everything she had not to start crying. "I never thought of that! You'd be okay with that, Sir?" She might not have been crying, but her voice expressed her emotion.

"Of course I would be. Why wouldn't I allow that, if it's possible? Call them tomorrow, and keep me updated."

"Yes Sir. Thank you." She was so excited, though a bit anxious at seeing her mother after almost two months that her voice squeaked. "I will."

"And how are you feeling now?"

"My head is much better, Sir. Thanks."

"Good. Come here," he ordered.

Remembering what her aunt had told her, she immediately went to him, got on her knees, clasped her hands behind her back and bowed her head.

Alright, Mr. McDougal. If you want a submissive, a submissive you shall have.

Smiling down on her, Hamish cupped Gayle's chin in the palm of his hand and prodded her head up. "Good girl." Bending down, he gave her a slow, passionate kiss. "Go fix my drink. Get yourself comfortable. I'll be in in a tic."

Getting as comfortable on the couch as she could with the chastity belt after placing his drink on the coffee table, she only had to wait a few minutes before Hamish walked in and sat on the couch beside her, not in his recliner.

After taking a sip, he turned his body toward her. "So, care to explain to me your greeting in the kitchen?" he asked with a grin.

"Oh. Well, it turns out Aunt Shirley was a submissive before she met Uncle Art. She, um, gave me some pointers."

Before she could continue explaining herself, he asked quite shocked, "You told her about us?!"

"No! No Sir! It seems Catelyn did, the little brat. Shirley explained what it means to be submissive, truly submissive. A lot of things made more sense. It just felt ... natural to kneel when I saw you."

"Oh, I see. That was a nice way to receive me, although I'd preferred you were naked."

She chuckled. "I'll remember that for next time." Taking a deep sigh, she told him, "She also told me that I had to remember you're human, and that you'll make mistakes, just as I do. You didn't hurt me physically, but I feel you betrayed me. Forgiving you for that is what I find so hard."

He nodded, looking ashamed. He was about to say something in his defense, but she put his hand on his knee. "Sir, don't. I have to trust you'll never do it again, and I want to believe that. I know deep down you're a good man, Hamish, Sir. You have to be open with me, though, if I am to fully trust in you. But I need to move forward because I made a commitment to you to be here until February, and I'm not backing out."

Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed the back of her hand. She blushed wildly.

"Ms. Boyce, one thing I admire about you is your strength, and the fact that you don't put up with my bullshit. By all means, talk to me about anything and everything that is bothering you. Can you do that?"

"Yes Sir, I can. Speaking of which ..." She squirmed painfully, "... Wearing this blasted belt is starting to chafe me horribly." The last few words came out with a very thick Scottish accent.

Hamish laughed. "You won't ever have to wear it again if you promise never to use our accent again."

"Am so sorry 'bout dat. It won't 'appun again, Sir!" she teased.

He was thoughtful for a moment. "Can I trust you not to play with yourself?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Well, can I ask if ... I need to ... If I'm horny?"

He grinned. "You can ask, but it might not be granted. We'll see how it goes. Go upstairs and bring down some talcum powder. I'll get the key from my office."

A few minutes later, Gayle had pulled down her jeans, sans underwear, and lifted the t-shirt she'd been wearing. Hamish unlocked the belt and grimaced at how red and irritated the lines on her hip were. "I'm sorry about this. You should have told me sooner."

She knew he was right but remained silent as she twisted the powder open.

"No. Hand it over," he demanded. She was hesitant for a moment but did so. "You wouldn't disallow me the honor of rubbing your luscious bum, would you?" He softly caressed her cheeks where the belt hadn't rubbed her raw.

She blushed then handed the container to him. "No Sir. Of course not," she grinned.

With a gentle touch, he spread a thin film of powder over the chafed areas, so tenderly and carefully she didn't even moan from pain. As a matter of fact, his hand was so warm it was beginning to feel exceptionally good to her.

"Hmm, thank you, Sir," she said as she turned around.

Again gently, he applied the powder to spots around her waist, but looking up at her sheepishly, he ran both hands up her stomach and cupped her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples.

This time, however, she couldn't contain a pleasurable whimper and leaned her upper torso forward. "Hmmphg, Sir. Pleease don't ... get me going."

"And why is that, Ms. Boyce?" he asked, pushing her plump breasts up, molding them seductively.

"Umm, because ... because ... I don't want to burn dinner." She managed to be reasonable as he continued to play with her nipples, but she regretted it, if she were honest with herself.

"Well, shit. Excellent point. Go on and set the table," he said as he pulled her shirt back down, mock pouting the whole while.

A little bit later, they sat down for dinner to a full table spread: Beef brisket, mashed potatoes, green beans and spiced apples made by Jessie, which had just come into season.

"Lass, I have to tell you, you did a crackin' job on this meal. This is officially my favorite dish of yours."

Gayle had been watching him anxiously as he took the first bite. "It's really good?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Hmm," he mumbled as he stuffed another piece of meat. "Unbelievable."

She finally allowed herself to relax and only then began to eat. And he was right, it definitely wasn't like her mother's but it was a close third place. For the first time since she'd arrived, she felt proud of herself.

Once they were done eating and Gayle cleared the table, he had another glass of whisky while she had a cup of coffee.

"Now," Hamish began. "You're going to be very busy in October planning the Guy Fawkes Day event, and I suggest you get started the first week. In three weeks, we'll spend the weekend in Glamis."

"Oh!" she giggled. "I was so toasted ... I can't thank you enough. I forgot about it."

"Ms. Boyce, I'll have you know I spent 42,000 pounds on that damned bidding! he exclaimed, his eyes teasing.

"Oh, you did not! That Ido remember. But seriously, it was very thoughtful of you."

"I'll be hunting with Thomas in the morning, since it was raining a few years back when I visited. But we'll have afternoon tea together. He mentioned Helen wanted to go all out for dinner, so it will be formal, but nothing like last night. On your day off, I do want you to buy another dress, more formal than Sunday church attire but more toned down than your butterfly dress."

"Hmm. Okay, so something simple like a little black dress. Got it."

And she also made a mental note to buy a negligee or sexy nightie ... just in case.

Tuesday, September 24th, 2013

Hamish and Gayle had just finished up breakfast when he announced, "So, little fawn, as promised it is time for you to see more of Scotland. Get dressed in your jeans and a tee-shirt which I have laid out for you. Underwear is permitted, trainers on your feet. Don't forget to bring your camera. I will meet you by the front door in fifteen minutes ... scoot."

Gayle duly scooted to her bedroom, a huge grin plastered on her face. "Perfect!" She had a whole day off from the castle routine and a chance to see some more of the beautiful Scottish countryside. She was so excited and couldn't wait to find out where he was taking her.

Laid out on her bed were her jeans, sneakers, underwear and a large black tee-shirt with an obscenely large triangle on the front with a rainbow to one side, which she instantly recognized as being a motif from the Pink Floyd era. She quietly sighed knowing that with her full breasts that triangle was going to make her chest the focal point for every set of male eyes she was going to meet on her travels, and her perky nipples would poke right through like laser beams. While it was chilly in the mornings, by noon it would be too warm for even a light jacket.

Bloody man, he even manages to turn a treat into a porn show! she moaned to herself. Then it occurred to her that she was starting to curse like a Scot.Oh, Lord, I've been here too long. I'll go back home and sound like Billy Connolly, for sure!

She sighed again but realized that there was no point in fighting, so she hurriedly cleaned her teeth, brushed her hair and got dressed.

Hamish was patiently waiting for her by the old estate Land Rover that Hodges usually used to work around the grounds, with Bessie happily sitting in the back, tongue out and tail wagging. She stopped dead by the front door and just stared open mouthed at Hamish. The battered, dirty old jeep was doing its best to look as if it would actually be fit for purpose and failing miserably. She doubted it would even start, never mind actually move.

"You aren't serious are you, Sir?"

"Serious about what?"

"Serious about travelling in that thing. Are we going sightseeing in THAT?"

"We certainly are. The Merc is in for a service and the Range Rover is having a day off to recover its self-esteem after you called it a gas guzzler and a truck. Hop in and try not to upset this one's sensibilities, please."

With yet another dramatic sigh, purely for Hamish's benefit, she clambered into the front passenger side and promptly trod on the sacks of potatoes and cabbages that were in the footwell.

"Ah, I see Hodges is off to the market again tomorrow," he noted. "You cannae whack good home grown tatties and veg."

Gayle felt mildly sick with the smell of old veg, wet dog, stale tobacco and even older something else that she had no desire whatever to put a name to. Opening the window for some fresh air, she asked, "Where are we going, Sir?"

"Relax, sit back and enjoy the view. It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you now, would it? We should be there in about four hours."

"FOUR HOURS!! IN THIS THING?"

He chuckled. "Well, maybe a little less, let's see."

Fifteen minutes later, the old Land Rover wheezed its way over the hill and Gayle looked down onto the most beautiful scenery she had ever seen. The village of Scotlandwell was beneath her, hills on either side, fields stretching way into the distance before stopping on the shores of Loch Leven.

"Nearly there. Quicker than I anticipated. I don't think I took a shortcut, so someone must have moved the destination. I blame the Government myself."

Sighing yet again she remarked, "Sir, your humor leaves just a little to be desired. Is it congenital or did you learn it in your CCF army thing?"

"Nothing wrong with my genitals so I must have learnt it on the drill square. Now, I have some good news for you. For the rest of the day you will call me Hamish again. I know Sir, prat and arsehole are your preferred terms of address at times, however, I shall allow my Christian name on this occasion." The gentle smile playing on his lips took any sting out of the comment. "I have one further order for you too."

She looked at him both expectantly and with a hint of resignation.

"You are hereby ordered to relax, have fun and enjoy this beautiful, sunny day. Ok?"

"Thank you Si ... Hamish."

"Good girl. Right, let's see if your head for heights is as bad as you maintain."

As he said that, the old wagon turned onto a dirt road with a large weather beaten sign at its entrance.

'SCOTTISH GLIDING UNION'

'PORTMOAK'

Gayle was going gliding!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hamish pulled up onto a grassed parking area besides a single storey, long brick and wood building with yet another battered sign over the front door which proudly proclaimed: