They stopped at a quiet pub and Tom ushered Ruthie into a seat by a small table near the window.
"I'll just have a coffee please," he said to the barmaid.
"Coming right up," she replied with a smile. "And what can I get for your little girl?"
"She'll have a lemonade please." He glanced back at Ruthie. She was wearing her own adult clothes yet still looked cute as a button and clearly far younger than her actual years.
He set down the lemonade and she drank half of it straight away, which caused her to have an attack of hiccups.
"Ohhh ..." Hic! "It's too..." Hic! "Fizzy!" she laughed. "The fizz is coming back down my nose!" Hic!
Tom leaned forward, that hungry crocodile look on his face as he whispered, "I have a perfect cure for hiccups - a bare bottomed spanking!"
"Ooooh!" Ruthie hiccuped again and giggled. "I can hardly wait!"
They left the pub and resumed their journey. Ruthie dipped into the bag of sweets again.
"Don't eat too many or you won't want your lunch," Tom said.
She gave him a coquettish look and stuffed a big handful in her mouth.
"I saw that! You just wait," he said meaningfully.
"Are we nearly there?" she asked again, and began shuffling around on her seat.
"Less than an hour now."
Less than an hour, thought Ruthie. In less than an hour I'm going to learn how to be the real me! She closed her eyes and thought delicious thoughts, a little smile on her face. Before too long, she began to doze, her head lolling on her chest. She didn't wake when Tom gently tilted her head back so that it rested on the padded headrest.
It was only when she felt him give her a little shake that she woke and sat up sleepily. "Are we there yet?" she murmured.
"Yes! We're here! Out you get."
Ruthie blinked and looked around her. There in front of her was the most idyllic little cottage she had ever seen. It had a little white-painted wooden gate that led up a flagged stone path to the front door. Pink roses bloomed in an archway around the door, and continued climbing up the walls at the front of the cottage. Mullioned windows gleamed in the early afternoon sun.
"Oh! That's just perfect!" She scrambled out of the car and followed Tom down the little path, euphoric that this would be her home for the next three weeks.
Ruthie scampered from room to room and ran up the twisty stairs delighting in the fact that they were uneven and they squeaked when she trod on them. Tom followed her up with two suitcases.
"This will be your room. Like it?" He opened a door to reveal a sweet room, not too big and not too small. It had white walls, and rose-pink curtains and bedding. The carpet was deep pink and there was a soft white rug at one side of the bed, and a delicate white wood dressing table and stool opposite. The dressing table had pink flowers stencilled on the surface and the legs.
"I do! It's lovely!" Ruthie ran to a double white wood wardrobe and opened it. It was empty except for coat hangers. "Can I start unpacking now?"
"Of course. You can put stuff in the chest of drawers too, and there's a little cubby hole in the corner where you can stash your suitcase. I'll just unload some more stuff from the car, then when you're done, we'll have lunch."
"Ok. Great." She set to work unpacking and stowing things away. When she took out her laptop, she took it downstairs along with her phone, watch and other items. Tom was still unloading, so she left them on the kitchen table. The gesture was significant and she trembled with excitement.
When everything was just as she wanted it, she went to the wardrobe and took out one of the many outfits - a short blue and white striped sailor dress. It had little puff sleeves and a decorative blue bow at the front. And from the chest of drawers she selected a pair of powder blue panties with yellow frogs on, and a pair of white cotton ankle socks.
This is it, Ruthie, she told herself as she stripped. She didn't bother with a bra - her breasts were small and she could manage without one; and she slipped the dress on over her head. The panties fit snugly. She put on the socks and a pair of blue sparkly sandals. Then she sat at the dressing table and brushed her hair, securing it in a white Alice band. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Perfect.
One thing was clear - she certainly didn't look like a 20-year old woman. She wore no make up and her cheeks had a natural pale pink bloom free of artifice. She smiled and bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself ... but with the uncertainty a wave of childish vulnerability washed over her. She sat there for a few minutes getting to grips with her feelings, and by the time she went downstairs, she had an impish expression on her face. She was ready to be a little girl ... a little girl at the seaside who would invariably at some point, be very, very naughty.
"Well look at you, cutie pie." Tom gave her an approving look. "Come wash your hands for lunch."
"I've washed them already," she fibbed.
Tom gave her a hard stare. "Show Daddy."
With a pout she held out her hands. They were grubby. "Um, I was going to wash them .. but then I forgot."
Tom pointed to the sink. "Get them washed at once. And this," he lifted up the hem of her dress, "is for telling lies." His hand splatted down three times over her panties.
"Owww," whimpered Ruthie. She rubbed her bottom, washed her hands and dried them on a yellow towel, holding them up for inspection.
"That's better. Now come and sit to the table and eat your sandwich."
She looked at the sandwich on her plate. It had been cut into four triangles. She could see the filling of grated cheese. "Can I have tomato ketchup please?"
"Sorry pumpkin, we don't have any. I'll get some when we go grocery shopping."
"But I want it now," whined Ruthie.
"Well I'm sorry but you'll just have to wait."
"That's not fair." She balled her fingers into a fist and squished one of the sandwiches. "They're no good without tomato ketchup."
Tom sat back and appraised her. "Rule number one - wash your hands before eating a meal. Rule number two - behave yourself at the table."
Ruthie pouted and poked her sandwich. "Don't want it."
"Rule number three - eat your meals or there will be no treats."
Ruthie folded her arms and sulked.
Tom calmly ate his lunch and opened a can of lager.
"I'll have some of that!" demanded Ruthie.
"You most certainly will not! Here's a glass of milk."
To her horror, Tom pushed a glass of creamy milk towards her. "Ugh! I'm not drinking that!"
"That's what you think, young lady," said Tom in a tone that held just a hint of menace.
Ruthie looked into his eyes and shivered in anticipation. "I'm NOT drinking that ... that cat piss!"
Tom arched one eyebrow. He remained silent and calmly finished his drink. Then he stood up and moved to Ruthie. With one fluid movement he lifted her off her chair, sat on it himself, and positioned Ruthie over his lap.
"And what did I tell you would happen if you break Daddy's rules?"
"I've forgotten," said Ruthie. Of course she hadn't.
"Then perhaps this will help you to remember." His hand descended on her dress
SPLAT!
"Ow!"
Tom gave her twelve good spanks and then flipped up her skirt and grabbed the waistband of her panties. "And these are coming down."
"Noooo! Not my panties!"
Too late, down they came, and Tom's hand cracked down on Ruthie's bare bottom.
"Owow!" she squealed.
"You lied about washing your hands; you misbehaved at the table; you refused to drink your milk; and you said a rude word. Time for the slipper, girl."
"What?" For a moment, Ruthie thought he meant he was going to put his slippers on. But no - he was already wearing them. He reached down and removed one. It was a dark brown size 11 slipper with a rubber sole. He grasped it firmly, and brought it swiftly down on her bare bottom.
CRACK!
"Yeowww!" yelled Ruthie
. When they had talked about her getting the slipper during the car journey, she had never imagined it would hurt so much. It was evil!
Tom tapped the rubber sole of the slipper on Ruthie's bottom, then tapped it again. Then, drawing his arm back he whacked the slipper down again - hard. As it contacted onto its target, Ruthie's eyes bulged as the stinging exploded across both cheeks of her bottom. She squealed loudly. Her bottom felt so sore that she could not imagine it getting any worse. But it did, as Tom methodically continued punishing her.
"You're killing me!" Ruthie wailed.
"Nonsense. A spanked bottom never killed anyone." Tom brought the slipper down on Ruthie's reddened and smarting flesh. She was wriggling like a fish, desperately trying to get off his lap. "Keep still or you'll get extra."
"Ow - but it hurts! It burns!"
"That's right - let's hope it teaches you a lesson. Now, are you going to sit down like a good girl and finish your lunch?"
For a moment, Ruthie forgot she was in little girl mode as she blurted out, "No fucking way!"
Crack!
The beastly slipper made another red splodge on her blazing bottom, eliciting a high pitched shriek.
"Don't you ever," CRACK! "use that base language," CRACK! "ever again!" CRACK! "Do you hear?" CRACK!
Ruthie howled as that mean old slipper cracked down on her poor bottom. "I won't! Oh! Owow OW! I promise," she sniffed. God but that thing stung like a swarm of hornets. "I'll be a g-good girl now, daddy. I promise." She sniffled again. She both liked and craved hard spankings but had never before experienced the sort of sting that damn slipper produced. In between her snifflings and rubbings, she decided she would have to hide those slippers somewhere he would never find them!
Tom returned the slipper to his right foot and smoothed Ruthie's red bottom with his hand.
"That's what naughty little girls get. So - what do you have to say for yourself?"
"S-sorry Daddy," she said, while frantically rubbing her tender little bottom.
"That's ok." He pulled up her panties and hugged her. "All forgiven. Now, are you ready to eat your lunch?"
"Can I eat it standing up?"
"Of course."
A flicker of understanding passed between them. The sting of the slippering had given way to a warm and pleasurable throb that warmed her bottom and made it feel all nice and tingly. Ruthie smiled. This was going to be a very interesting vacation!
---oOo---
They went to the beach later in the afternoon and Ruthie was glad she had opted to leave her swim suit at the cottage. She didn't want people seeing any signs to indicate she had a well spanked bottom. Tom had brushed and braided her hair and tied it with red ribbons to match her little red sun dress and red beach sandals.
He bought her an ice cream and a little fishing rod and plastic bucket, and together they fished in the rock pools brimming with water left by the outgoing tide. An hour later there came the sound of jangling bells, and to Ruthie's delight, a man leading six donkeys came into view.
"Donkeys!" she squealed. "Can I ride on one? Please? Please?"
"Are you sure you want to?" asked Tom. The corners of his mouth twitched as he hid a smile.
"Yes, yes, yes!" She ran towards them. They all had gaily coloured bridles, and around their necks each donkey had a little plaque with its name on. "George!" Ruthie stroked the brown soft fur of his mane. "I'd like to ride on George please."
It was only when the donkey man lifted her up into the saddle and George set off at a trot, that Ruthie remembered her sore bottom.
"Oh, oh, oh! The donkey's bouncing me!" Boy, did it hurt! Her spanked bottom bumped up and down in the saddle as George trotted. She looked at Tom and he was grinning. Bad Daddy!
But in spite of her bottom rubbing against the hard leather saddle, Ruthie enjoyed the ride. It had been years since she had done this. She loved it. And when the ride was over, Tom got her a little spade to match the bucket and they made a sandcastle. Decorated with shells and bits of seaweed. It was a perfect afternoon.
They did some shopping on the way back and Tom carried three big bags of groceries up the hill as Ruthie skipped along beside him with her bucket and spade.
Dinner was fun, and Ruthie helped by preparing a salad while Tom popped a couple of potatoes in the oven to bake and made a strawberry jelly for dessert. When the potatoes were almost done he cooked a couple of juicy steaks in a big frying pan, and they ate dinner outside at the little patio table on the back terrace whilst talking about the events of the day. The early evening sun was still warm, and the fresh clean air carried with it the unmistakable salt tang of the sea. Big whit gulls flew overhead, making a raucous noise. Ruthie cleaned her plate and tucked into the jelly, managing to spill most of it down the neck of her dress.
"Dirty girl," Tom said. "It's into the bath tub for you before bed."
When they had cleared away, Tom relaxed with a brandy. He saw Ruthie eyeing it enviously and grinned. "Would you like a juice, sweetheart?"
"I suppose so." Damn. There were disadvantages to being a little girl.
But not being able to indulge in a brandy was soon forgot as bath time approached. Tom led Ruthie up the stairs and into the bathroom. He put the plug in the bath and ran the water, adding some sweet scented bubble bath.
"Arms up," he said.
Ruthie obeyed. "Are you going to bath me, Daddy?"
"Of course. We need to scrub you and get rid of all that jelly!" He removed the rest of her clothes.
Ruthie stood before him naked, and now the adult Ruthie surfaced. She blushed at her nakedness, one hand cupping her pubic area, and the other across her chest. But her embarrassment was quickly forgotten as she played in the bath, immersing herself in the bubbles and popping up again, deliberately splashing him. He cleaned her with the wash-cloth and dried her small frame with a soft towel, and then produced a pair of yellow pyjamas which had pictures of little scampering mice.
Then it was into bed, despite Ruthie's protests that it was far too early. Tom put the bedside lamp on. "Would you like a story, princess?"
"Yes please, Daddy," she said, suddenly overcome with tiredness. It had been a long and full day, and the warm bath and fresh air had made her oh so sleepy.
She only heard the first half of the story. She was asleep in no time. Tom smiled, kissed her forehead and covered her with the quilt. He too had enjoyed his first day at the cottage.
He went downstairs to contemplate the day and plan for the next one.
---oOo---
The next day proved to be another beautifully sunny day with a balmy breeze blowing inland from the sea. After a breakfast of pancakes with syrup and fresh strawberries, Ruthie went upstairs and played with some toys that Tom had brought and hidden away in the cubby hole in her bedroom.
She took out two dolls, a teddy-bear and a plastic tea set and set them all out on the rug. Then she got Boris the rabbit off the bed and had him join the tea party too. For the following hour she was quite content and it felt so good to relinquish all the trappings and stresses of her adult life and simply be a little girl again with no worries or responsibilities.
Later, they went out for a walk and picked up a couple more things from a local shop. By this time, Ruthie had decided she wanted to be in bratty teen mode, and persistently annoyed Tom by poking and prodding him, ignoring his warning looks and verbal chastisements. Then she really messed up. Picking up a handful of gravel from someone's driveway, she began to toss the stones in the air, throwing each one higher and higher.
"Put those down, Ruthie," Tom said calmly.
"Shan't," said Ruthie. She threw another one.
"I shan't tell you again."
Ruthie stuck out her tongue when she thought he wasn't looking, and threw one of the stones further afield. There was a resounding crack, followed by the noise of breaking glass. Ruthie turned and saw to her horror that the little stone had totally shattered the porch window of one of the houses. She clasped her han
d over her mouth and turned to look pleadingly at Tom.
An irate-looking woman came out of the house, and when she saw the extent of the damage, she came storming up to Ruthie and Tom.
"What's going on here? Are you responsible for breaking my window?"
Ruthie panicked and shook her head. "No." She gulped. Oh shit.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," said Tom apologetically. "It was an accident and I do apologise. I insist on paying for the damage." He took a bunch of £20 pound notes from his wallet and handed them over. "Please, accept this. It will cover the cost of getting someone out to fit you a new window."
The woman looked at the money. It was far too much, and her husband could fit a new window for next to nothing. "I don't need all this." Reluctantly she handed some back.
"I insist," said Tom. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Ruthie - apologise to the lady."
Ruthie gulped. "Sorry," she whispered.
"Not good enough," said Tom.
"I-I'm very sorry for breaking your window," said Ruthie in a much louder voice.
"Very well." The woman nodded, mollified. She turned her attention to Tom. "They're hard work at this age, aren't they?"
"They certainly are," agreed Tom.
"How old are you, young lady?"
"Fourteen," said Ruthie.
"Old enough to know better," snapped the woman.
Ruthie shrugged and stared at the ground, sneaking a glance at Tom. A little vein twitched ominously at his temple.
"I agree," said Tom. "She'll be punished for her deliberate carelessness and disobedience."
"She could do with a damn good spanking if you ask me," the woman said as she returned to her house to get a dustpan and brush.
"Oh she's going to get exactly that," Tom murmured. "Come."
Ruthie squealed as a finger and thumb gripped her right ear tightly and pulled her along up the hill. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I am. I already said sorry to the woman. Ow! Get off!"
But Tom smiled grimly and didn't relinquish his grip. He walked briskly and Ruthie had to jog to keep up with him.
Once they arrived back at the cottage, Tom set down the groceries and looked at Ruthie. She looked guilty as hell and shuffled her feet awkwardly.
Little Women Box Set Page 12