From the Top Shelf - In a Mist, Chapter 12

The story so far:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11

Last week some of you suggested that Louisa might be in for a spanking this week, and I am pleased to announce that you were correct! So without further ado, let's have her OTK!

IN A MIST - Chapter 12 - In which poor Louisa regrets her folly and Elizabeth's jealousy overflows

A few minutes later Louisa entered the room. She had her mother's thick glossy black hair which she wore demurely in an Alice band. Otherwise she was cast in an altogether softer mould, with large features and sad spaniel eyes. She moved self-consciously, as if ashamed of her rather plump body.

Totally under her mother's sway, she was dreadfully shy of strangers. She blushed violently when she saw Lennox standing there in his bathing trunks. She managed a hurried smile of greeting to Elizabeth - the girls had seen little of each other since boarding school. But her attention was riveted on her mother, at whom she cast forlorn spaniel-like "am I forgiven?" looks.

"Louisa has been in disgrace all day, haven't you, Louisa?" Mrs. Farquarson said crisply, eyeing her with severe disapproval.

Louisa went red and looked down at the carpet.

"Well might you blush, Miss." The girl fidgeted wretchedly, as if her mother were sticking spiteful needles into her skin. "Thanks to your careless stupidity our poor darling little Hannah is now drifting somewhere in the middle of the English Channel!"

Louisa snivelled. Her eyes were red and puffy as though she'd been crying. She had on a red and white gingham dress that just covered her knees. Her legs were bare except for white ankle socks. Elizabeth got the feeling her mother liked to keep her dressed as a child, in spite of her seventeen years, so that Louisa's emerging womanhood would in no way challenge her own.

"Louisa, I want you to take a good look at this gentleman. Mr. Lennox is Elizabeth's tutor. You know what a tutor is, don't you?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"A tutor is a gentleman who knows how to deal with naughty girls. He knows just how to punish them!"

Louisa went redder and redder as her mother's homily grew more sinister. She had none of Elizabeth's buoyancy of character. Elizabeth pitied her from the bottom of her heart.

"We've been having words about you, Mr. Lennox and I," Mrs. Farquarson's voice was shrill and mocking. "In his opinion what you need, my girl, is a sound spanking to set you to rights -"

"Oh, Mummy, no!" Louisa's face and neck turned crimson with petrified shame. Her lower lip trembled as if she were about to burst into tears.

"- and who better to spank you than Mr. Lennox!" she concluded,a cruel smile flickering on her thin lips.

She dragged her wailing daughter across the room to him, her thin lips compressed in a sneer of triumph.

"Here," she said, "please deal with my daughter exactly as you would under similar circumstances with Elizabeth."

Bundling the protesting girl into his astonished arms, she whispered, "If you are the man I think you are, do it! We owe it to Elizabeth. We've had our fun at her expense - now it's her turn to be entertained. I'm sure she'd love to see someone else on the receiving end for a change!"

Judging by the horrified look on Elizabeth's face, Lennox very much doubted that last remark. Nevertheless he had never in all his days as a tutor turned down an opportunity of administering corporal punishment to a girl. Besides, to refuse would surely be seen as a sign of weakness. It would impugn his manhood.

Sitting down on the couch he drew the trembling body of Louisa across his knee. It seemed the height of incongruity - as well as somewhat obscene - to spank a girl while wearing only swimming trunks. The inevitable erection would soon be all too apparent beneath the thin cotton of his shorts.

"Pull up her dress and petticoat, Mr. Lennox, else she won't feel a thing," commanded her mother.

"No! No!" Louisa screamed, kicking frantically in a vain attempt to free herself. Mrs. Farquarson seized her daughter's ankles. Her face was flushed and rigid with determination, her mouth twisted and elongated until it resembled the beak of an angry bird. Her long painted fingernails, sharp as talons, dug into Louisa's soft calves.

Elizabeth watched incredulously as Lennox drew the gingham and lace folds up above plump white thighs and over the twin rotundities of Louisa's buttocks.

Thick green cotton knickers, elasticated at the leg, jealously guarded large expanses of rippling bottom-flesh...

Lennox looked for guidance from Mrs. Farquarson. She nodded her head.

Elizabeth tried to look away but couldn't. Her eyes returned again and again to the shockingly indecent spectacle of Lennox slowly inching Louisa's knickers down, rolling her from side to side across his lap so that his hand could slide beneath her and loosen them from around her belly.

"Mummy, please stop him - oh PLEASE!" Louisa emitted great choking sobs as he finally uncovered her bare bottom.

He had grown used to the trim contours of Elizabeth's behind. Neat and compact, there was scarcely an ounce of excess fat on it anywhere.

As he freed the gusset of Louisa's knickers from between her cleft and slipped them down to her knees, he was momentarily taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the rear he had undertaken to chastise. "Too much cake and ice-cream, Louisa!" he murmured reprovingly, patting her wobbling, dimpled hind-cheeks. They were as soft and as yielding as a pair of over-ripe melons.

"Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!" the girl wailed repeatedly, gazing round at her with stricken spaniel eyes.

"Oh you great big baby!" Mrs. Farquarson snapped, losing all patience with her.

Lennox tipped Louisa further over his knee so that her face was inches from the floor. He knew from experience that the tenderest part of a girl's bottom, the part most vulnerable to punishment, was the smooth undercurve where it joined the thighs.

Louisa's wails reached a new level of intensity. To her utter mortification she knew that he now had not only an excellent view of her bottom, and of the thick black bush between her legs - but also he could clearly see the slit of her sex itself...

"Stop that absurd caterwauling and take your medicine like a brave girl. It will do you the world of good!" her mother cried, slapping Louisa hard on the leg. It did the trick. Louisa whimpered babyishly then fell into silent despair.

Lennox tightened his arm around Louisa's podgy waist. Raising the other arm in the air, he brought his open palm sharply down across the crown of the furthermost buttock.

Louisa gave a piercing yell and jerked convulsively as the stinging impact fanned outwards across her flesh, like ripples from a pebble tossed into a pool.

He attacked the other cheek in similar fashion, so that both buttocks now wore pink blushes on their summits.

Louisa was a big girl with a healthy pair of lungs. After a while she began to use them to their fullest capacity, screaming and roaring in her distress.

Slowly and methodically Lennox was working his way downwards, from just below the base of her spine to the tops of her chubby thighs, taking in the furthest extremities of each wobbling buttock as well as the central area jutting out either side of the broad cleft.

He cupped his palm slightly so that it would more closely correspond to the curvature of Louisa's behind. His arm rose and fell with all the power and regularity of a steamhammer.

Louisa's bottom darkened into crimson. The sausage shaped imprints of Lennox's fingers superimposed themselves upon the wine-red background.

His prick stood rigidly to attention, rubbing itself into still greater tumescence against Louisa's plump white thigh.

All the while, like the sound of the sea, a never ending chorus of gurgling sobs issued from the girl.

Her mother's body was taut as a bow-string with excitement. She was squeezing her trousered thighs together, rubbing one against the other, obscenely, like a grasshopper.

As for Elizabeth, she felt dreadfully confused. She didn't know what to think. She'd never watched a girl being spanked before. Having it inflicted on oneself was altogether different. She'd been too busy then coping with her own bodily responses to think about anything else. Only now, while witnessing another girl's chastisement, could she fully appreciate just how intimately degrading a punishment it was.

The spanking was having a queer effect on Elizabeth. She was beset by feelings of outrage, disgust, compassion - yet a tremendous sense of exultation that made her feel ashamed. Absurd though it was, there was something almost beautiful about the sight of this half-naked girl doing painful penance across her tutor's knee.

She circled the figures in this bizarre tableau, studying the darkening hue of poor Louisa's wriggling backside, noting with appalled fascination how much of her private parts the sobbing girl was involuntarily displaying.

Then she witnessed the tableau from the other side, gazing curiously at Louisa's tear stained face, contorted into a grimace of agony.

Her former feelings of compassion towards the girl for being subjected to such a painful indignity abruptly vanished. Instead, her lower lip curled with jealous contempt. Mrs. Farquarson, cruel and spiteful though she undoubtedly was, had been right to call her daughter a big baby. What a blubbering little coward Louisa was, to make such a terrific fuss about a mere spanking! Elizabeth's own bottom throbbed and ached unbearably - a constant reminder of the ferocious whipping it had received on the beach.

Even so she would give anything to be in Louisa's place. To experience once more the blissful security of lying across her tutor's lap...to feel his large hand palming her bare bottom - how she ached, how she yearned for it!

But that brief chapter in her life was over. He would never again put her across his knee and spank her - he'd made that very clear to Mrs. Farquarson. Instead he would beat her cruelly with cane and switch.

She wouldn't have minded that. She would have gritted her teeth and borne it stoically, deriving whatever comfort she could - even from the rod's steely kiss.

But to stand by and watch another girl being spanked in her stead, receiving such personal care and attention from the man Elizabeth loved so fiercely and possessively, was simply too much to bear. Feeling more unwanted and unloved than at any time in her life, Elizabeth ran from the room, her face averted from the others lest they should see the bitter tears streaming from her eyes.

Sensing her acute distress, Lennox hastily concluded the disciplining of Louisa with a thunderous tattoo of bottom smacks that made her howl more loudly than ever, after which he pushed her roughly off his lap and onto the floor - as if to express his sudden distaste for the whole business.

He volunteered to go in search of Elizabeth, and quite pointedly ignored Mrs. Farquarson's fawning pleasantries and offers to ring for tea.

"Somehow I doubt if Elizabeth will want to stay for tea, after what has happened," he muttered testily as he strode out into the hallway. He realised he had behaved abominably towards Elizabeth. Would she ever forgive him? He felt as though he had let a priceless Ming vase slip out of his careless fingers and smash to fragments on the floor below...

He found her in the conservatory, dry-eyed and pale, absently toying with the Sensitive plant. She had been silently communing with it for some time - for they shared a common fragility.

She ignored him when he called her name. He felt a sharp stab of guilt. He walked up behind her and took her gently by the shoulders. "Would you like to go home now?"

She nodded slowly and reclined limply against his weight.

"I'll tell Mrs. Farquarson we're ready to go then," he murmured.

"No, please don't do that. I don't want to go back with that woman. Please could you telephone home and ask Tomms to collect us?" She spoke almost in a whisper.

"Why are you upset, child?" he asked fatuously, too worried to think of anything intelligent to say.

"I was jealous. Angry,too." She twisted her little embroidered handkerchief wretchedly in her hands.

"Angry with me?"

"No - with her. She's mean and spiteful and I hate her!" She stamped her foot in an outburst of petulance. "Things were wonderful between us until she came along. Now everything's spoilt!"

"Spoilt?" he echoed lamely. "How can that be so?"

The injustice of it all welled up inside her and took control, making her gabble her words. "Because you told her you won't ever spank me again, and I can't bear the thought - I just don't want to live any more - it's as simple as that!"

Lennox gasped in relief. So that was all it was!

"Oh Elizabeth, you silly little goose. When that saucy little bottom of yours has recovered from its whipping, I promise faithfully I'll put you across my knee!" He gathered her fully in his arms and kissed the back of her head. The soft curves of her behind nuzzled against his crotch. His penis erected immediately.

"You'll spank me just like before?" she murmured excitedly.

"Bare-bottomed, over my knee, just as you deserve - you naughty little puss!" he growled, biting her ear.

She turned in his arms and planted a shy kiss on his cheek. "Promise me one thing. You won't ever, ever spank any other girl but me?"

"I promise," he replied, patting her bottom by way of reassurance.

She winced delightedly.

Lennox and Elizabeth were much too caught up in each other to notice the watchful eyes of Diana Farquarson peering spitefully at them from behind the crested fronds of a large Boston fern by the conservatory entrance...

When at last Elizabeth felt sufficiently composed they walked back slowly to the drawing room. Mrs. Farquarson stood smoking a cigarette by the fireplace. She smiled with cat-like slyness at them as they entered the room. "Ah, the happy couple. Reunited at last, I see."

Spoken by anyone else it would have been a jocular enough remark - but coming from Diana Farquarson's thin well-bred lips it acquired the distinct flavour of smut. Elizabeth looked daggers at her and fought back an instinctive desire to cling to her tutor for protection.

"Where is your daughter?" Lennox enquired, reddening slightly and doing his best to steer the conversation away from Elizabeth and him, for he too had felt the sting of her remark. Was she making a veiled accusation of unprofessional conduct on his part? If so, she had better think again, for he was entirely innocent - in deed, if perhaps not in thought.

Louisa, Mrs. Farquarson told them with a gloating smirk, had been "packed off, hot bottomed, to bed!" Elizabeth glared at her with naked anger. What a cruel, vindictive mother she was, to treat her daughter so unfeelingly! Louisa would have desperately needed comforting after being spanked, not summary banishment to the bedroom. Elizabeth no longer attached any blame in this to her tutor. His good nature and his disciplinary expertise had been ruthlessly exploited by an unscrupulous scheming woman.

An awkward silence ensued, broken only by Lennox asking if he might use the telephone in order to ring for their chauffeur. If Mrs. Farquarson was at all disappointed to learn that her offer of a lift had been turned down, she hid it remarkably well - simply shrugging her shoulders philosophically. She made no attempt to elicit the reason why. So they were thankfully spared the embarrassment of having to give it.

Lennox dialled the number and spoke briefly to the dour forbidding chatelaine of Lymchurch House, Mrs. Anderson, who told him frostily that she would relay his message to Mr. Tomms. That is, if the gentleman could be located, it being his afternoon off. Gloomily Lennox replaced the receiver.

"He will be on his way shortly," he reassured an anxious Elizabeth, though privately he had his doubts.

Twenty minutes later though, the old dark-green Sunbeam tourer arrived in the drive. Lennox and Elizabeth were inexpressibly relieved to be departing from "The Laurels". Mrs. Farquarson was her usual impeccably polite self as she shook hands with Lennox and gave Elizabeth a cold peck on the cheek. She insisted that, to cover up the weals on the back of her thighs, Elizabeth borrow one of Louisa's dresses - a donation which, on every ground but that of modesty Elizabeth was unwilling to accept.

"It means that one of us will have to come back to this beastly place in order to return it!" she whispered crossly to her tutor as she reluctantly slipped the ill-fitting garment over her head.

"You may safely leave that errand to me, Elizabeth," Lennox replied, leading her into the waiting vehicle. "I have unfinished business here to attend to."

She glanced sideways at him uneasily.

Quietening her fears with a gentle pressure to her arm, he laughed softly. "Never fear, child, this doesn't involve Louisa. Remember, I gave my word!"

Two days later the village was buzzing with a rumour, circulated by Diana Farquarson's maid, to the effect that a masked intruder had broken into the house in the dead of night and, tying her petrified mistress face down on the bed, had stripped off her night dress and savagely scored her pampered upper-class bottom and thighs with a riding crop. Naturally Mrs. Farquarson had been far too upset and humiliated by the shocking assault to even think of informing the police.

The old grey-beards in the local inn, "The Green Man", thought it the best thing to have happened in Lymchurch for many a long year. "Tanned 'er arse, 'e did, till 'er squealed like a stuck pig!" one of them exclaimed loudly and with relish. "That'll learn the bitch and no mistake!" another replied, raising his glass of ale in a toast to the unknown assailant.

Elizabeth's honour had been more than liberally satisfied.

Now who do you suppose broke in and committed such a scandalous act?