French Lessons Page 6

  “Un autre, monsieur?” the waiter was beside him with the bottle in an instant, as soon as he drained his glass. Charlie politely declined, electing to go for a walk around The Grand and take in the views down to the harbour, and way up to the hills. He was smitten and determined now not to let Eleanor Walker slip from his grasp.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Two hours had passed since Eleanor’s dramatic punishment. Tamara desperately wanted to talk to Harry about the whole sorry thing. Before she’d had the chance, she had seen him wander off quickly from the yacht. He had headed towards town, leaving his sobbing daughter below deck. Tamara knew him well enough to accept this wasn’t rejection; he just needed to clear his head. She had then very quietly listened again at Eleanor’s cabin door. The girl was crying relentlessly. She had wondered if she should go in and comfort her there and then, but quickly thought better of it. It was wiser to let them both cool off. Eleanor in more ways than one.

  Night settled. It was a brilliant clear sky with stars as big as any Tamara had ever seen. She had thought long and hard over the day’s events, in between glancing reads of her magazines in the roomy deckhouse. The air grew slightly chill. Eventually, Tamara found Harry back on the yacht, inspecting paperwork with Stephens in the cockpit. As she wandered down to join him, Tamara saw him staring out the porthole, his eye–line level with a deckhand’s feet as the dining chairs were packed up. In twos and threes the staff had returned from their nightcap treat. They had found the vessel silent, the young Miss Walker clearly confined to her cabin. There had been much smirking, as they’d chatted in whispers about the punishment Le Walker had so very publicly promised the girl.

  Tamara approached Harry from behind and wrapped her arms around him. He sighed and bent down sideway to nuzzle her hair. Stephens discreetly exited.

  “Was it awful, darling?” she asked. “I’d imagine Eleanor is in a pitiful state, from what I could hear.”

  “It’s over and done with now. And it was nothing she didn’t earn, honey,” again Harry tried to reassure his wife. He held her by the waist and kissed her long and hard on the lips. Holding her face in his hands, he stared hard into her eyes.

  “What did you – smack her with?” Tamara could not help but want the details of this pivotal event in their family life.

  “My shoe,” Harry said. “Leather sole. And then my hand. On her bare, wet bum. So no, she won’t be sitting anytime soon. But nor will she be talking back to us, or getting up to any more of her insolent tricks. She needed a sore lesson.”

  He held his wife close. Tamara’s heart beat a little faster, as she imagined the shoe beating on her own bare bottom ... with Harry doling out a stern lecture, not letting her move while he trapped her over his knee. She felt a deep inward embarrassment, yet her tummy fluttered in excitement. Where were these new fantasies coming from? It unsettled her, while quietly thrilling her at the same time. She wrapped her arms tighter around Harry, willing his hands to travel down to her bottom. He sighed and breathed in the sweet violet perfume of her skin.

  “I’ll talk to her tomorrow, Tammy. She can spend the night thinking about why she ended up over my knee at her age, and on holiday too. Might take a day or two for her to settle. But by the end of the week I’ll have my old daughter back. You just wait and see. And you’ll be able to be a proper stepmother.”

  Tamara took her husband’s hand and led him up the stairs towards the deckhouse. She walked over to the two seater. He sat down, and she lowered himself into his lap. She returned the kiss of just a few moments before, but slower and deeper.

  “My two girls...” Harry murmured, in between hungry kisses. “You both seem very keen to find yourselves on my knee, one way or another!”

  Tamara giggled as his hand wandered up her outer thigh. Such a strong, comforting feeling. But she wanted to feel that hand in punishment on her bare flesh ... and felt another frisson of thrilling warmth in her lower tummy as she dared actually picture it fully for the first time. Her, his wife, lying right over Harry’s knee. His hand removing her panties.

  Protesting against it all, while still wanting him to treat her like a naughty little girl... how sensationally erotic that must feel. She loved every inch of Harry ... loved him on top of her, inside of her. She could not believe how renewed she felt every time in his arms. Making love three times in a day was something Harry had never dared dream of doing again, but his earnest gaze into her eyes now revealed that yes, the night would end just that way once more. As they kissed long and soft and hungrily, Tamara allowed her imagination to wander free to the delicious, illicit fantasy of Harry taking her in hand. She wanted to be spanked by him.

  Alone in her plush little cabin, Eleanor finally rose from the bed and wandered into the shower cabinet. She was still sniffling and in a state of shock that her doting Daddy had punished her so very terribly. At last she shed the stiff, damp, ruined dress. She let it fall to the WC floor, taking the flowery knickers with it. He had actually pulled them down! Never, ever did she think he would do it on the bare bottom. Even after he’d put her so roughly over his knee. It was all so humiliating! Turning her back to the oval gold–framed mirror below the porthole, Eleanor at last looked at her behind. It was just the sorry mess she’d expected. Burning scarlet red and mottled purple. Ugly, graze like welts had risen on the apples of each of her shapely cheeks. She wouldn’t be able to sit for goodness knows how long.

  Damn you, Daddy!

  Stepping into the narrow shower, she turned the knob and allowed a cool spray of water to cascade down over her naked body. She twisted the heavy gold showerhead so that the water trickled down her back and to her well–spanked bottom. She turned it cooler. The soft water ran over her punished skin, as Eleanor leaned in to the shower door and breathed in the sweet musky smell of her favourite wash cream, bubbling up from a discarded sponge on the shower floor. The thumping red–hot pain began to ease just a tiny little bit, as she let the cooling suds continue to course over her arched behind. Never had she felt so sore and sorry for herself.

  She wondered if Charlie would work out she’d been spanked like that. No doubt everyone would guess what had happened. Her father’ had more or less told everyone, right on the deck in full earshot of all the staff. Would she ever see Charlie again after the stupid things she had done, making her father so angry with him too? Rubbing her buttocks and turning the water at last completely cold, Eleanor decided to try and recover from this awful turn of events as fast as possible. She would prove she was grown–up. Running away wouldn’t help. She could see now that her father wasn’t going to give in. If she did leave the yacht without asking, there would simply be a repeat performance over his knee. As her heart began to slow and the water eased her spanked skin just a little, Eleanor promised herself that she would never let it happen, again.

  Up on deck, young Pierre smiled as he heard the water running in the young Mam’selle’s cabin. The rumour was that she had had une fessée from her Papa. He imagined her upended and with her sweet little rear laid bare for the paternal hand to correct it. If that was what indeed had happened, then it was just as she deserved, after her spectacular rudeness and the fall into the water. Pierre and his mates had enjoyed a quick smoke and a bottle of beer together, as bidden by Walker, not long after Eleanor had been banished to the bureau. They did not dare return to the motor–yacht or go below deck, but one or two had heard from other crews that they could hear girlish cries and a stern male voice float up to the harbour’s edge. It had sounded very much as though the gruff, kindly Englishman had seen fit to give his naughty little girl a nicely toasted botty. And all the boys laughed and agreed she had earned it, as they clinked their glasses in a casual toast. Every single male in the vicinity was fixated either with the sassy nineteen year old.... or with her very sexy stepmother. Both were completely out of bounds of course, but it was already making this summer particularly hot on the Riviera.

  Another glorious day dawned on the misty, lilac coast
line. For a few seconds after she woke up, Eleanor had no recall of the horror of the previous day. Then as she turned in her crisp cotton sheets, the dull, beating heat in her rear end brought a fresh reminder. She’d been spanked completely bare over her Daddy’s knee. She cringed as she recalled the feel of his hand on her bottom, compounding the awful damage done by that beastly shoe of his. And now she’d have no option but to face him, and hear what new rules he was doubtless going to impose.

  As she changed in to her summer daywear, Eleanor thought about Tamara. She hadn’t scorned or wagged her finger, or run to tease her after the spanking. She had just left well alone. Eleanor was rueful as she pulled little white knickers on over her heavily marked bottom. There was no way at all she’d be able to sit down without the aid of a very thick pillow. Every step she took, her buttocks felt raw and stinging. It had been like every one of the childhood spankings rolled into one, and multiplied by a hundred. Never had she imagined that Daddy would be so mean and strict. Slowly pulling on loose striped sailing shorts over the knickers; she dreaded the shame of having to face the world. And at that very moment, she heard her father calling from the deck above.

  “Eleanor. Come right up, please. It’s time we had another talk, young lady. Breakfast is ready.”

  Eleanor almost started crying again at her father’s stern tone. Hadn’t she been punished enough?

  She was very hungry though, and the day so beautiful and bright. As she climbed up deck slowly and walked to the breakfasting table, it was as though Tamara had read her mind.

  “Now Harry, let’s not get the day off to a cross start. Eleanor dear, would you like some coffee? Come and have breakfast.”

  Eleanor looked around sadly. The wrought iron breakfasting chairs posed a threat she couldn’t bear to think of.

  “If it it’s ok, can I please just take my breakfast to my cabin?” she said meekly.

  Harry wanted to put the whole incident behind them as quickly as possible. But he was sticking to his word. Eleanor would do exactly as she was told. He was firm, but quiet.

  “Sit down, Eleanor. I’m more than aware that it won’t be easy for you to do so. But I did tell you you’d be left with a very sore reminder of what happens when you disobey. Didn’t I?”

  Eleanor swallowed hard, determined not to cry. She wondered that she had any tears left, having sobbed herself to sleep after her chastisement. Tamara leaned over the table and pulled out the chair for her. It was best to try and be normal.

  “C’mon, honey. Let’s have a little chat shall we? Then we can get on with enjoying the rest of this lovely day.”

  Lowering herself extremely slowly to the chair, Eleanor hung off its edge. She was glad of the shorts she wore. They allowed a little of the cooling sea breeze to waft across her thighs. Had they been an inch shorter, the burnished red skin of her uncomfortably hot backside would have shown a little. As she stirred her coffee slowly, she wished her father would speak. Harry bit into a slice of apple. With his other hand, he played softly with Tamara’s.

  “Well, young lady. What do you have to say for yourself, now that you are having such trouble sitting down? Isn’t that exactly what you were promised if you continued to misbehave?”

  Despite her best efforts, fresh tears now pricked Eleanor’s eyes. She shifted her bottom slightly. Tamara handed her a plate of croissants and jam. She really was very kind, Eleanor thought.

  “I know. I’m – I’m sorry Daddy. I really am. But I said I was sorry at the time! It’s not fair! So horrible and embarrassing! And now my holiday is ruined!”

  Unable to ignore the searing throb in her seat, Eleanor burst into tears once more. Harry sighed heavily and looked at Tamara. She was quick to act. Saying nothing, she stood up and grabbed Eleanor. She held her close to her tummy and allowed the teenager to sob.

  “There, sweetie... it’s really OK. Hush. You let it all go.”

  “Eleanor. I have told you why – “

  “That’ll do Harry,” Tamara used a telling–off tone he hadn’t ever heard before as she stared fixedly into her husband’s eyes.

  “We’ve all had enough. Now this is girls’ time. Ain’t you gotta little – I don’t know – fishing you can do?” she jerked her head to one side and made it plain she wanted rid of him.

  Harry shrugged and made to leave. He turned back only briefly to kiss the top of his wife’s head – and then firmly, his daughter’s. The return of her gentle giant Daddy made Eleanor weep even more sorrowfully. Tamara held her tighter and then sat down. Harry wandered off, awed once more by his wife’s patience and generosity of spirit. He really was the luckiest man alive.

  Alone with her stepdaughter at last, Tamara released Eleanor from her hug and put an arm around her shaking shoulders.

  “Not so nice is it? Being taken down a peg or two?”

  Eleanor calmed a little and wiped her eyes with a napkin. Catching one of the stewards gawping from the bridge, Tamara shooed him away.

  “I – I feel so ashamed of myself...” Eleanor whimpered.

  “I know, honey. I know your Daddy gave it to you real good. You sure don’t look too comfy.”

  “I don’t really mean being spanked,” Eleanor’s words surprised the older woman.

  “I mean yes, it was really embarrassing. And it’s horribly sore. But I know now it was my own fault. For being so stupid and drinking too much, and using the checking card. Falling in the sea was so scary. And Daddy had warned me to behave, too. What I’m really most ashamed of though, is the way I’ve treated you. You’ve always been so nice to me. And I was such a horrid awful person in return. I’m sorry, Tamara. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Tamara was overwhelmed by this wave of contrition. Could Harry have been right? Just one bare bottomed session over his knee, and his daughter was turning a corner?

  “Oh sweetheart! Of course I can! We just need a little time together. Come here.” They hugged, Eleanor wincing as her bottom made deeper contact with the chair.

  “Let’s make a fresh start, shall we?” Tamara’s easy cadence and rich accent were soothing to Eleanor’s ears. Why had she wasted all this time in petty game–playing?

  “You’ve been very soundly punished, El,” Tamara used her pet name as she held out her stepdaughter to look her in the face. “And you’ve taken it. Your Daddy told me all about it, so I know it was pretty tough going.”

  Eleanor blew her nose and relaxed, enjoying the chance to air her feelings. Despite the terrible humiliation, she felt far less alone than at any point over the last few, difficult months. She managed to speak easily to her stepmother for the first time, feeling no defensiveness.

  “Daddy always spanked me properly when I was little, if you know what I mean. But not for one minute did I think that he would do it that way – at nineteen!”

  “I know, sweetie. But he’s your Daddy. He has your very best interests at heart. And can I tell you something? There were times even in my twenties when my life was looking off the rails. Gee, I wish now my Daddy had done the very same thing. Just to show that he loved me.”

  “ Really?” Eleanor was intrigued.

  “Yep. I was an only daughter, just like you. But my folks aren’t like Harry. I never felt cherished. Your Daddy adores you. Sure, it’s a real big deal going over his knee bare, and all of it. I can imagine how horribly embarrassed you feel. But the soreness will pass in a couple of days. And you’ll be ready to take on the world. Because you know what, I doubt you’ll be throwing any sour moods for the sake of it again, now will you?”

  “No....” Eleanor said softly. “I’m going to prove I’m grown–up. And not disappoint him again!” Eleanor felt much better, and bit hungrily into a croissant.

  Tamara was delighted with this change in the young woman’s demeanour.

  “And hey, that young man Charlie! What about him? Kinda cute ain’t he?” Tamara giggled as Eleanor blushed shyly.

  “Goodness knows what he thinks of me. I almost got us both thrown
out of The Grand. Then he had to life me out of the sea! Oh what a complete fool I’ve been!”

  “Well, you have a whole holiday ahead to make it all better. Eat your breakfast. Then we can find something for that sore spot, eh?”

  “Oh yes, please!” said Eleanor, the agony in her seat still a constant.

  After an hour or so planning the rest of the holiday together, Tamara went down to the cabin and fetched a small tub of peppermint balm from her vanity case. As they spotted Harry return to the yacht, she pressed it into Eleanor’s palm and winked at her.

  “That’ll help, I reckon.”

  “What are you two girls conspiring?” Harry chuckled.

  “Well, I say we should have a celebratory dinner tonight – dontcha think honey?” his wife breezed. “Maybe invite that nice young man Charles, from yesterday? Goodness knows you owe him one!”

  Eleanor blushed again and looked to her father for a reaction. Harry beamed, delighted that at last his wonderful wife and daughter seemed reconciled.

  “Yes! Splendid idea. I’ll talk to Fabien and organise langoustines. Eleanor, I think it only right that you pay a personal visit to The Grand as soon as possible, don’t you?”

  His daughter squirmed, reminded that apologies had to be made all round.

  “Yes Daddy. I’ll do that. And should I – see if Char – if whatsisface is available to join us?”