From Blushes 23
The crafty little monkey, said Gordon Harper to himself, as he saw the trim figure of Rosie slip past the kitchen window. There she is, playing truant again because her mother’s away for a few days… and also because he’d told her he was going off fishing for the day. He’d told her that deliberately (though it was a lie) as a kind of test.
Gordon laughed inwardly. These youngsters think, just because you’re middle-aged, you’re losing your marbles. But he’d seen the look in her eyes when he’d told her about his trip at breakfast time. Those little eyes had shone; an opportunity for skiving, they had said. Well, now she was back home and in for a bit of a shock.
The kitchen door opened and in bounced Rosie, oh so merrily. ‘Back a bit early, aren’t we, my dear?’ said Gordon with a lopsided grin. Oh how that young face fell! Shock and dismay.
‘U-uncle… oh what are you doing here? You… said you were going fishing.’
‘More to the point, Rosie, what are you doing here?’ Gordon looked as stern as possible. ‘Playing truant again?’ He shook his head. ‘Your mother won’t be at all pleased’
Though Rosie, now 18, still called him uncle, he wasn’t her uncle at all. In fact he was her mother’s cousin but he had played a great part (mainly financial) in bringing up both Rosie and Margaret, the latter being Rosie’s elder sister, now married. Over the years, he’d been a kind of guide, comforter and godfather rolled into one and Rosie’s mother, Beth relied on him a great deal for advice (apart from finances). Beth was a career woman who travelled considerably. Whenever she was away, she asked Gordon to keep an eye on things. Usually she asked him to stay in the house, as on this occasion.
‘You’re very slack on discipline, you know Beth,’ Gordon had said years ago. And on more than one occasion. ‘If they were my daughters, I’d spank them for some of the things they do. My dad spanked my sister regular.’
Beth had simply shrugged. ‘You know more about these things than I do, Gordon. Spank them if they’re naughty, if you feel they deserve it.’
This had been said in front of both Rosie and Margaret, the elder sister being 19 at the time. There had been a great deal of protestation from both girls… but to no avail. Both Beth and Gordon had been firm. Gordon had spanked Margaret twice — just before she got engaged — but after that had concentrated his attentions more on Rosie. For one reason, Margaret’s engagement was a very short one and she soon left home. That had been two years previously. Now Rosie had reached the ripe age of 18 and was on her last term at the local grammar school. A bright girl but one with a mind of her own. Flighty was the word Gordon would have used about her. And often did.
With Beth’s agreement, he’d spanked the girl several times — always keeping the girl’s knickers on. This seemed sensible since her mother was present. The spankings had been for a variety of offences. Smoking, stealing from a sweetshop, foul language, and, it must be said, playing truant. Rosie knew she was bright and, therefore, considered staying away from school was a relatively trivial offence. Neither Beth nor Gordon agreed with this viewpoint.
‘It’s a matter of principle,’ Beth had once said.
‘It’s illegal,’ Gordon had added. And Rosie, then 17, had got a really sound spanking.
But, thought Gordon as the girl bounced into the kitchen, it didn’t seem to have made any difference. Perhaps sterner measures would have to be taken.
Rosie was looking very flustered. ‘I… I’ve come back to fetch something,’ she said.
‘What?’ Quite obviously, Rosie couldn’t think what. ‘Don’t make it worse by lying to me, Rosie. You’re simply playing truant again.’
The girl’s head drooped, she bit her lower lip. It was an admission of guilt. Gordon looked at the soft blonde hair and had a sudden desire to run his fingers through it. No… no that would never do. He was standing in loco parentis.
‘I’m… I’m sorry… ’ said the girl. ‘It… it’s such a lovely day… and… and… ’ Her voice trailed off and she went a shade of pink.
‘And,’ Gordon took up from her, ‘you have arranged a nice little assignation from one of the boys from Garston’s, no doubt!’ That he had hit the nail on the head was evident from the way Rosie coloured more deeply.
‘I’m sorry,’ repeated Rosie. Then her chin came up quite firmly. ‘I’m 18 now, you know Uncle. Not a child any more.’
Gordon smiled. ‘As far as I am concerned, you certainly are a child. Not a true adult, anyway. Also, you may recall, I spanked your sister when she was 19.’ Rosie looked startled as she recalled the truth of this. ‘However, since you are now home, you can do some of the chores I was about to take on. Not too happily, I may say.’ Gordon smiled. ‘But first, a little spanking to remind you that you cannot get away with this kind of wickedness. I know your mother would approve.’ Rosie looked angry at that. The truth often hurt. ‘If I knew exactly where she was,’ added Gordon, ‘I would ring her up and ask her. Not really necessary, though. She’s never objected whenever I’ve suggested you deserve a spanking.’ Rosie’s crestfallen look also indicated the truth of that. Gordon seated himself on a chair in the kitchen and beckoned. ‘Come on, young lady, over my knees.’
Rosie pouted and looked quite furious. ‘This is ridiculous — at my age,’ she spat out. Gordon went on beckoning and the girl came slowly forward. Over the years he had gained quite a hold over her.
‘Don’t want to make things worse for yourself, do you?’ It was an understood thing that if Rosie put up resistance, the punishment that followed was always worse than it might have been. Gordon felt the softness of that young body go over his thighs and couldn’t deny he didn’t enjoy the sensation. Nor could he deny he was looking forward to spanking this youngster. He always had done.
Up went the school skirt… then, obviously to Rosie’s outraged dismay… he pulled down her knickers. There was a wailing shriek.
‘Oooohhh… you can’t do that!’ But, of course, Gordon had already done it and, wildly as Rosie might struggle, she could not break his grip. He began to slap the bare cheeks vigorously, finding it even more enjoyable to do so now that the knickers were down. The contact of bare palm on bare bottom was something quite unique.
‘Stop… it… oooh… owww… stop!’
Rosie was kicking out as she twisted and turned and the whole of her bottom was bouncing and joggling madly as it turned from creamy white to red.
Then Gordon suddenly stopped. Rosie was released and head bowed, pressed her hands to her bottom. Her eyes were wet with tears. The shame of what had just happened was almost as bad as the pain. ‘Right,’ said Gordon, ‘now you can get on with the washing up.’ He grinned. ‘Not really worth playing truant, is it?’
Rosie pouted again and looked daggers. Then she began to pull up her knickers.
‘No,’ said Gordon, shaking his head, ‘you’re going to keep that bottom bare.’
The girl looked at him in amazement. ‘B-but… why?’
‘A matter of discipline,’ replied Gordon firmly. Then he took a safety pin off the dresser and pinned Rosie’s dress up to her waist. ‘And discipline is something you obviously need.’
‘It… it’ s not r-right…’ protested Rosie, feeling the utter humiliation of it.
‘Right or not, that’s how it’s going to be…’ Then he turned and left the kitchen. However, he took the precaution of leaving the door ajar so that he could observe his young charge from time to time. Meanwhile Rosie stood over the sink in desultory fashion, seething with fury. All her plans had gone wrong. She was missing a date, she was being made to look quite ridiculous, and her bottom was painfully hot.
I’ll run away, she kept telling herself. I will, I will! But, in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t. In the first place she had no money and nowhere to go. Unless it was to Uncle Gordon’s house — and that was out of the question. Also, normally, living at home was far too comfortable. He’s a beast, a real beast. He’s no right to treat me like this. He’s not even my proper guardian. Though, she had to admit, he did have her mother’s full support. She gazed miserably out of the window, washing up untouched.
Then Gordon was suddenly back. He had been watching the idling… and decided it was time for action. This time he brought a strap with him. He’d used it before but only for more serious offences. Like when Rosie had been caught stealing. ‘I thought I told you to do the washing up!’ he barked out and the girl jumped with shock. Not been expecting him back, of course. Then she saw what was in his hand.
‘Ohh… ohhh… no uncle… please … not that… ’ Her eyes were wide.
‘Yes that!’ said Gordon, slapping the strap on his palm. ‘You, Rosie, are completely undisciplined and I am going to do something about it. Come along… kneel up on this stool.
P-pleeeease … uncle…’
‘Do it! Now… or you know what’ll happen.’
He watched the girl kneel fearfully up on the stool. Her bottom curved nicely. Most conveniently. Most revealingly. ‘P-please… uncle.’ she said again, head turning towards him. She looked sweetly pathetic but it didn’t alter his resolve.
‘While you’re under this roof, Rosie,’ he said, ‘you’ll learn to do as you’re told… ’
The strap cracked loudly across the bare behind. Gordon had not laid it on too hard but it made a most satisfying sound all the same. Also, it made Rosie squirm and gasp.
Again… then again! Oh yes, that bottom squirmed most deliciously. Frantically Rosie clutched the stool to prevent herself falling off.
Again… and again!
‘Owww… owww… that’s enough… oooh… eeeenough!’
But Gordon didn’t think so. He applied a couple more really good stingers which had the girl twisting clean off the stool and once more pressing her hands to her burning flesh.
‘Oh you horrible monster… oooh… how c-could you?’ The tears were coursing down. Then Rosie darted for the door and went pounding up the stairs. Gordon heard the door of her bedroom slam. Well, he thought, so far so good. Things could be left as they were for the time being. There was still a long day ahead and Rosie need not think she was going to get away with anything.
Gordon, having decided to let Rosie stew in her own juice for a while, thought perhaps he would do a little fishing after all. He made himself a snack lunch, slung a bottle of red wine into a haversack, then left a note regarding household chores on the kitchen table. ‘Back at tea-time’ he ended, ‘hope to find the place properly ship-shape.’ Then he set off by car to his favourite part of the river.
He would have plenty to occupy his mind as he watched the bobbing float in the peace and quiet of the riverside. Mainly, the memory of Rosie’s bouncing-squirming bare bottom. Not to mention the sight of rather more intimate parts of her anatomy as her legs kicked and splayed with pain.
That girl, he told himself, has deserved all she got. But she needs a lot more. Otherwise she’s liable to go completely off the rails. Gordon was convinced of that, considering Rosie at a critical stage of her life. He’d have to have a word with Beth about it when she got back. Did her mother know, for example, that Rosie was making secret assignations with boys from Garston’s? A serious matter that. I’ll tell her about the cane I acquired recently, he said to himself. There was little doubt, under the circumstances, he would get permission to use it. Mmm… that would make that young bottom squirm even more!
Happily, Gordon settled down on the river bank. A most relaxing afternoon lay ahead.
Rosie, meanwhile, was making her own plans. She’d thought a lot about that business of Uncle Gordon pulling down her knickers. Dirty old man! There was no need for it since those knickers were so thin they could not possibly have taken any of the sting away. No… there was quite another reason. He wanted to look at her pussy, horrible old thing. Probably wanted to grope her as well. Uughhh!
That, however, was when Rosie started making plans. If I could lure him, she thought… tempt him… who knew what might not happen? Gosh… she might be able to get him on a charge of indecent assault. If not rape! That would be revenge indeed for all he’d done to her over recent years. Not to mention that very morning.
Having heard Gordon leave, she went downstairs. The note on the kitchen table she tore up straight away. If what she planned worked out, whether she did household chores or not wouldn’t make the slightest difference. She smiled to herself, even though she was running a soothing hand over a still painful bottom. Tea-time. That was a long way off. She would be able to set up the camera in the right place; it was one of those you could get to go off at a time you wanted. She’d get Uncle Gordon compromised then… flash, flash… he’d be completely exposed. In every sense! It wouldn’t be pleasant, but the end result would be worth so much. He’d be disgraced and she’d be rid of him for ever. Her mother she would be able to handle quite easily, once she was on her own.
Still smiling, Rosie drifted into the living room and poured herself a very large gin and tonic. Perhaps, a little unfortunate for her, it made her feel so good, she poured herself another. Why don’t I strip off right now, she thought? Walking about naked gives one such a sense of liberty. True freedom.
Rosie removed all her clothes, then stretched out on the sofa. It was not long before she was pouring a third large gin and tonic.
Tea time was still a long way off.
Gordon returned home later than expected. And when he did, was rather shattered to find a naked Rosie wandering about the kitchen. grinning aimlessly.
‘Had a nice day, Nunky?’ she enquired. It was a name she had used when she was younger. She moved herself seductively. ‘But it’s not over yet, is it?’
‘Rosie… what on earth? What’s going on?’ Gordon was both bemused and fascinated.
‘Since you obviously wanted to look at my bare bottie,’ said Rosie, slightly slurred, ‘I thought you might like to look at some other things as well.’ She moved her shoulders so that her young breasts bounced and swung. Gordon was even more bemused yet, he had to admit, even more fascinated. His ageing loins began to glow, yet he was wary. This girl was definitely up to something.
‘Go to your room at once, Rosie!’ He barked out. ‘This is disgraceful! Whatever has come over you?’
‘My room? My bedroom. Nunky?’ She was smiling foolishly at him again. ‘Mmmm… if that’s what you want, Nunky, I’m on my way.’
Hips swaying erotically, Rosie made her way through the kitchen door. Gordon wiped his brow. This indeed was a turn-up, he said to himself. This 18-year-old was actually offering herself to him! A lovely idea… but so, so dangerous. Also, experience of life gave Gordon an extra sense. Something was going on. And it wasn’t, ultimately, going to be to his advantage. He bounded up the stairs, opened Rosie’s door. There she was, still naked, lying sprawling on the bed. ‘Oh, Nunky, how sweet… you are keen!’
That confirmed it for Gordon. He took the key from the lock inside, slammed the door and locked it from the outside. ‘I’ll deal with you later you wicked little hussy!’ he called through the woodwork.
Rosie remained on the bed. Her plan was not working out exactly as she had originally planned. But, in the end, she was sure it would. Happily, she closed her eyes and dozed off, wondering as she did so if Nunky had liked the look of her tits as much as her bottom.
Gordon came to a rapid decision. The offer, enticing as it was, would be refused. It was far too dangerous. The girl, smarter than he had once thought, was setting a trap. However, it was a trap into which she herself had now fallen.
He went down to the garden shed and took out the cane he had placed there. It stood in a canister of water to keep it nicely supple. Gordon took it out and flexed it with relish. A dozen or so of this across the girl’s bottom would make her quickly change her attitude!
If she knew the circumstances, Beth would approve, he was sure. What a damn cheek… trying to seduce him! At the same time Gordon couldn’t help being flattered that the girl thought he still had plenty of go in him.
He’d wait a few hours so that she’d sobered up properly and, more than likely dropped off to sleep. Then he’d go up again.
Rosie soon began to realise what an absolute fool she had been. Now there would be hell to pay. Especially if her mother got to know! Oh that mustn’t happen! How awful… quite awful! She hid the camera she had been planning to use, put on her baby-doll nightie and crept miserably into bed. She had a headache; she felt rather sick. But above all her mind was in a turmoil about what Uncle Gordon would now do.
At last she fell asleep… to be awoken (could have been minutes or hours later) to find him standing at the end of the bed, looking sternly down.
‘I don’t know what your mother is going to say about this,’ he began.
Rosie started up in bed, ‘Ohh… you mustn’t tell her… please! I don’t know what came over me.’
‘Nor do I. My presumption that you are going downhill fast was correct. But I did not realise you were so immoral.’ He saw the girl flushing. ‘Well, if your mother is not to know, I shall have to deal with the matter myself.’
‘Yes… yes… ’ said Rosie almost eagerly. ‘That would be best… ’ At that point, Gordon produced the cane from behind his back. ‘Rosie emitted a horrified gasp. ‘Oh… no… not a cane!’
‘Yes,’ nodded Gordon. ‘A cane across your bare backside. That’s what you deserve and that’s what you’re going to get.’ He could see her weighing the alternatives. This or the shame of her mother knowing? ‘Come on… what’s it to be?’ It took quite a while for a decision to be made.
‘Alright,’ she whispered.
‘Get out of there… and kneel on the bed,’ ordered Gordon crisply. He felt very much in charge. He’d got this little minx exactly where he wanted her.
‘H-how many?’ Another whisper.
‘A dozen,’ replied Gordon… to be met by a despairing wail. ‘And, if you don’t get your bottom up now, I’ll make it more.’
That did the trick. Rosie knelt and, once again, Gordon had that naked young bottom presented to him. It still looked quite sore, so the cane would really hurt. Good! It was what the girl needed. He measured here, seeing the bottom flinch. Then he laid on a good hard cut.
Rosie squealed breathlessly and her blonde head jerked back. And how that bottom moved! Jerking back and forth, twisting at the same time. ‘No… oh no… I can’t b-bear it!’ she wailed.
‘You know the alternative, my girl,’ said Gordon. Then laid on a second cut. The results were similar, but more pronounced. Gordon was most gratified. Obviously this instrument should have been used before now. It was making the right impression. In every sense. Those long, twin-tracked weals were bright red. Only two so far. Ten more still to come.
Plenty of time…
And, in view of Rosie’s repeated pleas and frantic contortions all over the bed, he certainly needed it. Not that he minded.
Not one little bit!