Blushing at Both Ends (19 page)

‘Disgusting!'

‘Might as well be wearing nothing at all!'

‘Soon will be, at this rate.'

‘Young women these days! No shame!'

‘Put her across my knee if she were mine.'

‘Not as if this was
Brighton
, after all.'

At last Julie could bear it no longer. She stood up, avoiding anybody's eye, and reached for her things.

Just then a voice called politely, ‘Over here please, miss!' Still bent over, she glanced round and saw, to her dismay, a young man taking her picture.

He lowered his camera and smiled amiably. ‘Thanks, miss. With luck you'll make today's edition.'

Flustered and dishevelled, Julie regained the shelter of the hotel and stealthily re-entered her room. She breathed a sigh of relief: Dan was still sleeping soundly. Quietly she undressed, hid the bikini in a drawer and slipped in beside him. He half-woke and kissed her sleepily, caressing her breasts. ‘Hi, darling,' he murmured and fell back to sleep.

The day passed uneventfully. They took a train to Weymouth for lunch, strolled on the beach, had a swim (Julie in a modest one-piece costume) and returned, tired but happy, in time for dinner. Occasionally the memory of the reporter troubled Julie's mind, but she dismissed it. Even if the picture was published, Dan would never see it. The
Bournemouth Echo
or whatever wasn't his kind of reading matter.

On Saturday nights at the Grand, a small orchestra in the dining room played popular hits of the day. As Julie entered with Dan she glanced over at them, and was taken aback when a trumpeter grinned at her and raised his instrument in ironic salute. It was one of the rowdy lads from the promenade. Still grinning, he got up and whispered to the bandleader who nodded, smiling. Bringing the song they were playing to a swift conclusion, the band segued smartly into a new number – a tune then riding high in the hit parade.

It – was – an

Itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny

Yellow polka-dot bikini

That she wore for the first time that day
. . .

Alerted by the change of tune, guests looked up. Several of them noticed Julie and whispered to each other. One or two even tittered and pointed. Julie felt a hot blush of embarrassment flooding her cheeks.

Dan looked round, puzzled and faintly irritated. ‘What are they snickering at?' he asked.

‘Dunno,' Julie muttered. ‘Let's sit down.'

As they sat down the tittering subsided, and Julie thankfully buried her flushed face in the menu. But worse was to come. Conscious of someone standing beside her, she looked up to see a young woman smiling uncertainly and holding out a newspaper.

‘Excuse me,' said the stranger, giggling nervously, ‘but would you sign it for me?'

THE NEAR-BARE LOOK COMES TO BOURNEMOUTH
, read the headline. And there beneath it, right on the front page, was Julie, bending down and peering coquettishly, as it seemed, over her shoulder. Even in black and white the picture had come out well – especially the exposed and temptingly proffered half-moons of Julie's curvy bottom, white beneath the darker fabric in the monochrome picture.

‘May I?' said Dan, snatching the paper without ceremony. He studied it briefly, then looked up at Julie. His eyes were expressionless. He glanced from her to the smirking musicians to the grins of their fellow guests, then abruptly stood up, thrusting the paper back at its startled owner. ‘I think we'll skip dinner, Julie,' he said quietly. ‘Let's go.'

On the way up to their room, Dan maintained a grim silence. Upstairs he locked the door, then swung round on his wife. ‘Well?' he demanded. ‘And just when was that taken?'

‘This morning,' Julie admitted miserably. ‘I went out early, while you were still asleep. I thought there'd be nobody about.'

‘Your mistake,' Dan retorted. ‘But an even bigger mistake, my girl, was wearing that bikini when I told
you
not to. I
told
you what would happen, didn't I? But did you listen? Did you hell!'

‘But I only wanted to get a proper tan,' Julie protested. ‘What's so terrible about that?'

‘What's so terrible? Oh, nothing at all. Only that you've ruined our holiday. Only that for the rest of this fortnight, wherever we go, not just in the hotel but all over the town, we're going to have people pointing and sniggering and making snide remarks. All because you, young lady, were so set on having your own way that nothing else mattered!'

Julie had never seen Dan angry before – not really angry, not like this. It gave her a strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Fear, yes, but something else too – something oddly like excitement. ‘I'm sorry, darling,' she said in a small, penitent voice. ‘I won't do it again, I promise.'

He glared at her furiously. ‘Bit late now, isn't it? You know, I thought it was a bit strange what your mum was telling me just before the wedding. But now I'm beginning to realise she knew what she was talking about.'

A spasm of alarm contracted Julie's bottom-cheeks.
Oh no
, she thought, he couldn't mean – could he? ‘What – what did she say?'

‘That you were a sight too fond of getting your own way, young lady. And that the best treatment for you was a damn good smacked bottom! Well, I think that's just what you're asking for, my girl.'

‘No! Dan – don't you dare!' Julie backed away as her irate young husband advanced on her. She'd intended it to sound defiant, but it came out more like a plaintive yelp. ‘You can't! I won't let you!'

But Dan was in no mood to heed her protests. Seizing her by the wrist, he drew her over to the bed, sat down on it and pulled her down across his knee.

‘No, Dan! Please! Don't!' Julie cried, putting a protective hand over her bottom, but he secured her
slim
wrist in his left hand and held it well out of the way while he rucked up the long velvet evening dress.

White nylon knickers, adorned with tiny blue flowers, fitted snugly over Julie's appealingly curved rear end. Held face-down in classic spanking posture, perfectly positioned for stern marital retribution, the petite blonde looked for all the world like a naughty little girl about to receive her just deserts. It was a delicious sight, but right now Dan was too angry to pause and admire it. Gripping the knickers by the waistband, he yanked them down well clear of the target area.

‘Ooooh!' wailed Julie, as she felt the last protection stripped from her vulnerable rear. To the apprehension of her forthcoming punishment was added the humiliation of having her bottom bared. Though her mother had spanked her soundly and often, she had usually been allowed to keep her knickers on. This would be her first bare-bottom spanking in years – and, from the determined look on her young husband's face, she suspected he would show scant mercy to her sensitive flesh. ‘Oh no, Dan, don't,
please
!' she begged.

But Dan was adamant. ‘So you wanted to get a proper tan, did you?' he demanded grimly. ‘Well, my sweet, you're about to get tanned better than you've ever been in your young life!'

His hand descended hard and fast, making contact with her rounded left cheek with a crisp clean smack that echoed round the room. Julie gasped and squirmed wildly, then yelped in dismay as his hand came down again, on her right cheek this time. The spanks stung like fury on her defenceless flesh-cushions. ‘Owww! No! Dan, that really
hurts
!' she wailed.

‘Good,' muttered her husband callously. ‘It's meant to.' Rhythmically his vengeful palm rose and fell, now left, now right – each swat stinging vividly, igniting fires on her soft quivering globes. Julie yelped and squealed, kicking her legs and wriggling beneath the remorseless
onslaught
. But Dan had her pinioned in a firm grip, and there was no escape for the disobedient girl.

Julie had always taken pride in her handsome young husband's sinewy good looks, his broad chest and muscular arms. Now, to her dismay, she realised his strength could have its drawbacks – especially where a naughty teenager's sensitive bottom was concerned. Dan was showing her no mercy, putting the full strength of his anger behind every stroke, and his hard hand was hurting her rear end even worse than her mother's hairbrush used to do. Already her bottom was ablaze, and Dan had settled to a steady relentless rhythm that seemed set to go on for quite some time.

‘Owww! Oh, Dan, that's enough! No more,
please
!' she begged. ‘I'm sorry – I'll never do it again, I promise! Help! Oh stop, darling, please! You're hurting me!'

But, plead and protest as she might, poor Julie had no choice but to submit until Dan decided she'd had the spanking she deserved. Desperately she squirmed on his lap, trying to evade the steady fusillade of swats assaulting her rearward curves. No such luck; Dan, warming to his task, landed each smack with a sure aim. If, as it seemed, this was the only way to make his wilful young bride behave, then he intended to make a good job of it. This first spanking of Julie's married life would be a memorable experience – for both of them.

Again and again his punishing palm smacked down on Julie's soft pouting bottom, distributing the spanks all across the luscious globes, leaving no part of the target area neglected. Dan put all his anger and exasperation into his vigorous swats, gratified to know from Julie's anguished yelps and wails, and from the radiant blush that mantled her wriggling cheeks, that they were having a suitably chastening effect. Her fair skin marked readily and soon her peachy curves were suffused with a roseate glow that would have piqued the envy of a sunset.

Poor Julie's fears were justified. Dan was a sturdy and robust young man, well fitted to make her punishment long, hard and thorough. Tearfully, she begged for mercy, promising every kind of good behaviour if only he would stop smacking her tormented rear end. But not until every inch of the ripe mounds was bright red and sizzling hot, and her pleas had turned to inarticulate sobs, did he finally let her up and take the whimpering girl in his arms. ‘OK, honey,' he murmured, gently stroking the glowing curves of her soundly smacked rear, ‘you've had your punishment. I'm sorry I had to do that,' he added, not altogether truthfully, ‘but you'll be a good girl from now on, won't you?'

‘You're horrid! I hate you!' Julie insisted, pouting at him reproachfully. But she put up no resistance when he bent to kiss her trembling lips and slipped his hand down over her belly, his fingers dabbling in the telltale wetness between her legs. The heat of her spanked bottom was transmitting itself to adjacent parts, swelling her clitoris and filling her cleft with desire. Already the pain was easing, leaving an all-consuming ardent glow that demanded satisfaction. And, for all her complaints, the way her handsome young husband had treated her with such stern loving mastery rendered him irresistible to her.

Dan was feeling equally aroused. His anger had been genuine and his motives – at least to begin with – strictly punitive. But, even while venting his fury, he found that turning his pretty young wife over his lap and spanking her soft bare bottom was one of the most richly erotic pleasures he'd ever known. And now as he held her, murmuring soothing endearments, he relished the thought that this deliciously sexy marital chastisement would surely not be the last.

The prospect of spanking his naughty girl again, soon and often, swelled Dan's erection near to bursting point. Julie responded to his ardour, reaching down to liberate
his
eager penis and guiding him into her with gasps of passion. So aroused were they both that after only a few deep thrusts they exploded into a simultaneous climax that lifted and took them both to the furthest bounds of ecstasy.

But it took more than a single spanking, however soundly applied, to quell Julie's mutinous spirit. Waking early the next morning while Dan still slumbered beside her, she found herself torn by conflicting emotions. That spanking really hurt, she thought indignantly, sensing a lingering warmth in her rear end. How
dare
he? She, a grown-up married woman, to be spanked on her bare bottom like a naughty child! True, there had been something exciting about being punished across Dan's knee that way: for all the pain, it had felt strangely reassuring. And the sex afterwards had been fantastic, the best ever!

But, then again, just who the hell was he to tell her she couldn't wear her bikini, and to spank her when she chose to ignore his orders? She'd wear what she damn well pleased,
when
she pleased – so put
that
in your pipe, Dan McIntyre!

Quietly Julie slipped out of bed . . .

Half an hour later she reclined happily, in all her scantily clad glory, on a remote beach at the far end of town. It was Sunday, so there were even fewer people about; no rowdy yobs this time, she was relieved to note. The sun felt delightfully warm on her skin. She closed her eyes and dozed.

Suddenly she felt a chill. Had the sun gone in? Blearily Julie peered up. A figure was blocking the sun. ‘Hey,' she protested, ‘could you move, please? I'm cold.'

‘Oh, are you?' responded a familiar voice. ‘Well, young lady, let's see if we can't warm you up a little.'

Julie gasped. ‘Dan! How did you find me?'

‘Not difficult,' replied her husband, kneeling down and fixing her with a look that boded no good.
‘Beautiful
young blondes tend to get noticed. A more interesting question, my sweet, is what are we going to do about you? You see, you just don't learn, do you? I really thought I'd spanked some sense into you last night, but I guess I just didn't spank you hard enough. Well, maybe
this
'll help you remember.'

‘Oh no!' yelped Julie as she realised what was coming. But before she could flee Dan had grabbed her, and to her horror she found herself sprawled over his knee, her bikini-clad bottom poised invitingly uppermost.