by Ray Gordon
'What?' she gasped disbelievingly. 'You're not serious, surely?'
'I've never been more serious,' he returned, rising to his feet and pulling the armchair into the centre of the room. 'Bend over the back of it, Emily.'
'No, I won't,' she said adamantly.
'Dressed like a common tart, answering back to your betters, coming home at two in the morning so drunk you can hardly stand,' he growled. 'You can forget Tenerife.'
Staring at her neighbour, Emily felt her heart beating violently. This was ridiculous. Her father was strict and had given her the odd whack on the bum when she deserved it, but he'd never told her to bend over the back of a chair. She didn't understand what had come over Arthur, but why he'd changed didn't matter, she concluded. The point was that her holiday was hanging in the balance. Arthur knew as well as she did that a bad report would put an end to her plans of going abroad with Christine.
'Well?' he said, eyeing the shadowy cleavage between her breasts. 'The choice is yours, Emily. You either take your punishment from me or your father. Which is it to be?'
'This is blackmail,' she sulked, raising her trembling body from the sofa.
'Blackmail? Don't be ridiculous. This is discipline. You're obviously not used to discipline.'
'Not used to it?' she scoffed. 'All I've had is years of discipline.'
'In that case it's done you no good whatsoever,' he retorted disdainfully. 'Your behaviour thus far has been extremely poor, so now you're to be punished. Bend over as I told you to.'
Standing behind the armchair, Emily knew she had no choice. If her father read the report book that would be the end of her holiday chances, but if she went along with Arthur, allowed him to spank her, then she might be allowed to go to Tenerife.
Finally bending over the upholstered back and placing her hands flat on the seat, her short skirt rising up her thighs, exposing the tight material of her white panties, she closed her eyes and waited with dread. Arthur stood behind her, and it was all incredibly humiliating.
The first smack from the man's palm across the tensed globes of her buttocks jolted her young body and she let out a yelp. The second slap was harder, the stinging sensation permeating the sensitive flesh of her rounded bottom. Biting her lip she thought it might be best not to go out at night. Jeopardising her holiday wasn't worth it, so it might be best to stay in for the next two weeks. 'No,' she protested as Arthur lifted her short skirt up onto her lower back.
'I'm a lenient man,' he stated, his palm meeting the tight cotton cosseting her teenage bottom with a loud slap, 'but perhaps I should have spanked you years ago.'
'Please, that's enough,' she begged.
'Let this be a lesson to you, young lady,' he said, as though not hearing her plea, administering the hardest slap yet.
'Please, I...'
'Look at your excuse for a skirt. You're nothing but a shameless tart; drinking, answering back at me; you should be ashamed of yourself.'
Again and again he spanked the cotton-covered orbs of her burning bottom as she squirmed and writhed over the back of the armchair. Her protests only firing his anger, he pinned her down with his free hand on the middle of her back as he continued the merciless spanking of her bottom. Even her father wouldn't do this. As strict as he was he'd never hold her down forcefully and spank her. Her breathing fast and shallow, tears welling in her eyes, she prayed for her sadistic neighbour to leave her alone as he finally halted the gruelling punishment. She never wanted to see him again, never wanted to speak to him again.
Hauling her trembling body upright as he moved aside, Emily smoothed her skirt down to conceal her panties. Her pretty face flushed, she winced as she rubbed her stinging buttocks through the tight material of the short garment. Arthur was crazy, she decided, watching him sip his coffee. The man was a lunatic. Was he possessed?
'You'll stay in tomorrow night,' he calmly ordered, finishing his coffee. 'Do you understand me?'
'Yes,' she murmured, hanging her head as a tear rolled down her cheek.
'I don't like this any more than you do, Emily,' he said. 'But as I'm responsible for your welfare I won't tolerate any nonsense. Now, you'd better get yourself to bed.'
He left the house and Emily flinched as the front door closed. Even though her buttocks stung like hell, a poignant reminder of her punishment, she still couldn't believe what had happened. The humiliation had been unbearable. He'd seen her panties and spanked her buttocks. She could have stopped him, she reflected as she wearily climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She could have told him to sod off. But that would definitely have put paid to her holiday.
Her thoughts turning to the young man she'd arranged to meet the following evening, she wondered what to do. If she slipped out of the backdoor again Arthur would see her, she had no doubt about that now. He'd be lurking. She daren't risk going to the wine bar.
Even if she talked Arthur into allowing her out she'd have to be home by ten o'clock, so what would she say to Jack? She'd arranged to meet him at eight; she could hardly tell him she had to be home again by ten. There was no point in meeting him. She might as well forget about it.
Waking to the sun streaming through her bedroom window the following morning, Emily hauled her tired self out of bed and stood before the mirror. Turning, she lifted her nightdress and focused on the crimsoned globes of her naked buttocks. This was a nightmare, she thought, imaging Arthur appearing in the doorway to check up on her. With a feeling of oppression engulfing her, she was afraid to take a shower in case he let himself into the house and came looking for her. Did she have no privacy?
Convinced he'd lost his senses, she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. But stepping into the shower she couldn't help thinking he'd knock and ask what she was up to. Feeling like a prisoner in her own home as she lathered shampoo into her auburn locks, she realised she had to calm down and stop worrying. Arthur wouldn't come into the house to check up on her, would he? He wouldn't knock on the bathroom door.
Turning off the shower and wrapping a towel around her naked body, she listened at the door before unlocking it. She was safe, she was sure as she padded across the landing to her bedroom. Deciding to go down and slip the catch up on the front door, she wondered why she'd not thought of it earlier. Then even though Arthur had a key he'd be locked out. Again eyeing the crimsoned flesh of her naked buttocks in the mirror, she tugged her panties up her shapely legs and concealed the evidence of the gruelling spanking. But she'd pushed all thoughts of her parents to the back of her mind, and now she was going to forget about Arthur, too.
Munching tasty marmalade on toast for breakfast, Emily looked out of the kitchen window at the garden. It was a beautiful summer morning, lovely for sunbathing. She'd bought a bikini for Tenerife, but dare she wear it now? No one overlooked the patio, no one would see her if she slipped into her bikini and soaked up the sun. It would be nice to get a bit of a tan in readiness for her holiday.
Quickly finishing her toast and coffee, she dashed up to her bedroom and slipped her T-shirt and bra off. Then tugging her skirt and panties down she slipped into her new bikini. Again looking at her reflection in the mirror, she grinned. The turquoise two-piece fitted well, accentuating the fullness of her young breasts and the toned roundness of her buttocks, although the panties were rather tight, moulding to the gentle swell of her pubic curls at the front.
Grabbing a towel from the airing cupboard, she hurried nimbly back downstairs. Knowing Arthur wouldn't be able to see her from his house or garden, she felt safe as she wandered out to the patio. This was freedom, she mused, the sun warming her creamy skin as she looked up at the cloudless sky. This was what normal teenage girls would do, enjoying sunbathing in a bikini.
Spreading the towel out on a lounger she lay on her back and closed her eyes. She could never have sunbathed in a bikini with her parents around. Her father would have said that sunbathing was not only unnecessary, but also unhealthy. Even in Spain her parents would remain fully clothed
and in the shade. If her father knew she was wearing a skimpy bikini and lying beneath the sun on their patio... but he was many, many miles away.
Tenerife was going to be great, she thought, the sun warming her flesh and muscles deliciously. Relaxing on the beach with Chrissie, drinking in the bars and dancing the night away in the clubs, really enjoying life. No one was going to ruin her holiday. Not her parents, not Arthur - no one.
'What on earth do you think you're doing?' Arthur demanded, standing over Emily's scantily clad form.
'Oh, I - I,' she stammered, sitting bolt upright and folding her arms to conceal the tight material of her bikini straining to contain her breasts. 'H-how did you...?'
'This is the real you, isn't it?' he said scathingly. 'Lying nearly naked in the garden. My God, your parents went very wrong with your upbringing.'
'I'm not nearly naked,' she objected. 'I'm only enjoying a little sunbathing—'
'The minute they go away you behave like a little tart. And that's just what you are, young lady. You're a little tart. Get into the house this instant.'
'Wait a minute,' she snapped, looking up at him silhouetted against the bright sun. 'Get out of my garden. How dare you come round here and—?'
'Is there no end to your shameless behaviour?' he snapped. 'I'll tell you this, my girl; unless you get into the house now I'll add a few more entries in the report book.'
'What... what do you mean?' she asked fearfully. 'Surely you wouldn't deliberately get me into trouble by making things up?'
'Let's just say I'm not prepared to tolerate this sort of behaviour, Emily,' he said ambiguously. 'Now get inside.'
Rising to her feet, Emily grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her body. Arthur followed her into the kitchen and closed the backdoor, his dark eyes scowling as he ordered her to go into the lounge. Dressed only in her bikini she held the towel tightly around her torso, and feeling his stare on the crotch of her bikini, she wished it were larger. Emily cringed with embarrassment, but she was sure he wouldn't dare touch her. Physical discipline was one thing, but to spank her in just a bikini? He wouldn't dare.
Cringing as he again ordered her to go through to the lounge she felt her heart racing, pumping adrenalin through her veins. She'd only been sunbathing, she thought anxiously, walking into the lounge with her neighbour in tow. It wasn't a crime to sunbathe in the privacy of her own back garden. What had happened to change the man so much?
'Bend over,' he ordered, again dragging the armchair into the centre of the room.
'Arthur, please,' she whispered.
'Please? Please what?'
'Please, be sensible about this,' she expanded. 'I'm only wearing my bikini; it isn't proper. What do you think my father would say if he knew you'd spanked me over his favourite armchair, and with me in only a bikini?'
'Are you threatening me, young lady?'
'No, all I'm saying is that this isn't looking out for me, this is—'
'Yes?'
'It's... he won't believe you,' she said triumphantly. 'He knows I never sunbathe in the garden, let alone own a bikini. There's no way my father will believe you.'
'I see,' he reflected. 'So you intend to tell him I'm a liar?'
'Yes, if I have to,' she said defiantly.
'Hm, this really does change things,' he sighed.
'I - I didn't want it to be like this,' she said apologetically, sensing him backing down, that she'd won the day. 'But what with the way you've been treating me, I have no choice other than to tell my parents that any bad things you report about my behaviour is a lie.'
'I was afraid something like this might happen,' he said.
'Just leave me alone and I'll not mention any of this to them,' she said in conciliatory tones.
'Mention any of what, Emily?' he quizzed, frowning as though deeply puzzled, but continued before she could answer. 'That sounds like a threat to me. As I said, I was afraid something like this might happen. As you know I work with computers, and I have a digital camera. And now I also have several shots of you brazenly flaunting yourself on the patio.'
'So?' she challenged, trying to hide her shock at hearing her neighbour had actually taken sneaky shots of her.
'Sunbathing in a bikini?' he sneered. 'I know exactly what he'll do. And I have other photographs, Emily. I have several of you leaving the house dressed like a tart.'
'I don't believe you,' she said stubbornly, despite secretly believing him capable of anything by now.
'If you'd like to come round to my house I'll show you,' he said casually. 'I'll even print some copies for you.
'Now I want you to stop this nonsense, Emily,' he went on, seizing back the initiative. 'You're making my life very difficult. Your parents entrusted me to keep an eye on you, and you're doing your best to make my job impossible.'
'And you're doing your best to take advantage of the situation, to take advantage of me,' she accused.
'What are you implying, young lady?'
'You know every well what I'm talking about. This is a sexual thing, isn't it?'
'A sexual thing?' he said, aghast. 'How dare you suggest that I...? Pull your bikini bottoms down and bend over the back of the chair.'
'Pull my...?' Emily shook her head in denial. 'No, no I won't.'
'Emily, unless you—'
'Who on earth do you think you are?' the confused girl shrieked, her anger exploding.
'Do you want your parents to discover the truth about their sweet little daughter? Do you want me to tell them how you've behaved behind their backs?'
Holding the towel over her breasts, Emily couldn't understand why Arthur had taken photographs of her sunbathing on the patio. What was he trying to do? He seemed to be building evidence against her, compiling a dossier. But why? This was only day three of fourteen days - day three of a horrendous nightmare. Was she going to have to stay in the house day in, day out? Whatever he was up to, she couldn't really believe it was something sexual. No, he wasn't like that. And he was over fifty.
'I've often wondered why your parents haven't been stricter with you,' he said, pointing to the back of the chair.
'Stricter?' she said. 'God, I'm hardly allowed to breathe when they're around.'
'But it hasn't worked, has it? Now pull your bikini bottoms down and bend over, young lady. The more you defy me the harder it will be for you.'
'I'm not going to allow you to touch me,' she insisted. 'If my parents knew what you're up to they'd never speak to you again.'
'There's more to this than you realise,' he said enigmatically. 'For a few years I've known you've been going off the rails. You lie to your parents, and I don't like that.'
'Lie to them?' she said resentfully. 'I've never lied to them.'
'I first caught you out last year. You told your father you were going to Christine's house for an evening to study. I was here when you told him.'
'So, what's wrong with that?'
'You didn't go to Christine's house, that's what's wrong. You went to the park with her.'
'You followed me?'
'For your own good, yes, I did. You met two lads there, didn't you?'
'Yes, I remember it,' she admitted. 'We bumped into a couple of lads from uni, that was all.'
'You know that, and I know that,' he conceded. 'But if I told your parents that you and your friend got up to immoral things with those young louts...'
'You're mad,' Emily gasped. 'Why say something like that? Why do you want me to get into trouble with my parents?'
'I don't. That's why I'm taking charge of you. From now on you'll answer to me; you'll do exactly as I say without protesting or arguing. I'm determined to discipline you, Emily. Now, pull your bikini down and bend over the back of the chair.'
Leaving her bikini in place and still holding the towel tightly around her, Emily, defeated and reluctant, leaned over the back of the chair and tensed the smooth globes of her buttocks as Arthur stood behind her. She knew that even if she stayed in every night h
e would give her parents a bad report of her. What did he want from her? Was this a sexual thing? The man she'd thought she'd come to know so well, the man who was more like an uncle than a neighbour, was his mind brimming with thoughts of a sexual nature?
There was no way out of this, she knew as he ran his fingertips over the tight material of her bikini bottoms, teasing the pert spheres of her buttocks. Humiliation engulfed her. She'd never felt so embarrassed in her life. Her bottom presented, displayed to her neighbour like this was degradation in the extreme. Not only was her holiday in serious jeopardy, but also her father would ground her for months once he'd listened to Arthur's lies. This was a nightmare!
The first slap jolting her young body, she squeezed her eyes shut and did her best not to protest. Once her parents were home Arthur wouldn't be able to touch her. If she could just endure this for a couple of weeks, or better still stay in every night and be on her best behaviour to thwart him. But she now feared that whether she stayed in every night or not, Arthur would dream up some reason or other to spank her. As the second slap landed squarely across her bikini, stinging the tensed flesh of her bottom, she wondered if he'd been planning all this for some time. Had he been waiting for an opportunity to get his hands on her and live out some perverse fantasy?
'That'll be enough for now,' he announced, having stung her poor bottom with a third slap that resounded around the comfortable lounge. 'Three should be enough to give you a taste of what you'll get if you misbehave again.'
'I'll be staying in every night from now on,' she whispered contritely, straightening up and still holding the towel tightly around herself with one hand, whilst ruefully rubbing her buttocks with the other. 'I'll not leave the house until my parents get back.'
'I'm pleased to hear it, Emily,' he smiled. 'You see, the punishment has worked.'
'No, it hasn't. I'm not staying in because of the spanking. I'm staying in so you'll have no reason to come round here again.'