Aprons For Gayle Ch. 19

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Scot for Hamish's display, which I just couldn't get out of my head!

I will admit I screwed up in the last chapter with Hamish disregarding Gayle's hard limit of no humiliation. As a RL submissive, I would have walked out and gone home! But mistakes DO happen, and any sensible and genuine Dom will admit his mistake and discuss it. So, please forgive my mistake!

We last left off the night before when Gayle was being 'punished' for breaking a vase, although Hamish used it as a chance to push her limits. I've gotten a few comments that it was harsh for Hamish to do so, but his intention wasn't to frighten her. He never did hurt her but made it pleasurable.

*****

Saturday, September 21st, 2013, 1:00 p.m....

Gayle rushed to Hamish's home after she'd spent the morning volunteering at St. Athernase. While she worked, she'd had time to think about him breaking her stipulation in his contract by humiliating her in front of David. Lying - she could forgive. Humiliation, not so much.

But she was still excited that today was the big day: The charity event. There was a lot she had to do before Kelsey, Jessie's daughter, would be coming over to do her hair and make-up.

Bessie met her in the kitchen, and as she walked toward the stairs she saw Hamish's office light on, and there was music playing. Just before she reached the door, she recognized the keyboard of the slow, dream-like song. Then the words by Foreigner struck her like a brick.

'Soooo long, I've been looking too hard, I've been waiting too long. Sometimes I don't know what I will find. I only know it's a matter of time...'

Fisting her hands, she thought, Go upstairs, Gayle. Don't put yourself in his trap.

"Gayle? Is that you?" Hamish called out.

She mouthed, fuck, relaxed her hands and walked into his office. He was deeply enthralled in whatever he was looking at on his computer monitor.

She was then assaulted with: 'When you love someone. When you love someone. It feels so right, so warm and true...'

Her ears began to ring loudly, and she felt like the room was stretching away from her to a narrow, dark corridor, Hamish at the very end. It left her in a cold yet feverish void. She couldn't define the expression on his face, not that she wanted to.

'I need to know if you feel it too. Maybe I'm wrong. Won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong? This heart of mine has been hurt before. This time I wanna be sure. I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. I've been waiting for a girl like you...'

"Gayle, are you alright?" he asked, his manner and tone very normal, not teasing or accusing her of a thing.

"I, um, yeah." Taking a deep breath, she told him she was going to take a bath so she'd be ready for Kelsey, who was arriving around three. "Have you eaten lunch, Sir?"

He nodded. "How did your date with Michael go?" Then his voice was accusatory.

She grew defensive. "Sir, it wasn't a date. I told you that. It was just drinks at The Witchery, and I only drank coffee." She shrugged her shoulders. "I won't be seeing him outside the church again. Besides, I had the feeling he wanted more than just coffee."

That's my girl. Leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head and looked at her smugly.

The lyrics blurred into one long word, though she could still understand the meaning of every single one.

'Now I know it's right, from the moment I wake up till deep in the night. There's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be than holding you tenderly. I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life...'

Gayle was floored. She didn't know what the hell he was trying to pull. Regardless, her heart was pounding, and it felt like her body was answering the question for her mind.

Gathering her courage, she asked, "Sir, may I have a moment to speak with you... once I clean up?"

"Of course."

Sometime later, Hamish was still at his computer when she walked in carrying papers, her forefinger between the pages. "May I sit, Sir?"

"Yes," he replied and pushed the chair back from the desk and looked her over.

She was wearing a black mesh, full-body apron, of course not hiding a damned thing. He had to force back a smile at how good she looked because he didn't know what to make of the look of determination on her face.

Sighing heavily, repeating her speech in her head, she said, "I've been thinking this morning." She laid the papers on his desk. "I've agreed to all of your conditions to the contract, Sir, but you've neglected to abide by mine."

He raised an eyebrow and took the papers, willing to hear her out.

"At the bottom," she told him.

His eyes skirted to her handwritten addition, which she'd added before she signed it and presented it to him in the bar of the hotel in Virginia. 'No humiliation.' His mind wandered to their conversation - no public nudity.

Fuck. She's got me there.

He laid the papers aside, and she was expecting him to say something sarcastic. Instead, he grew dead serious, regret and pain conveyed in his eyes. "Gayle, I do realize I fucked up by crossing the line with your hard limit, and I do know I hurt you, and that's the last thing I ever wanted to do. I never claimed to be perfect, far from it. I hardly slept last night. I just lay in bed staring at you all night."

His words floored her, his voice filled with anguish. She wanted to throw caution to the wind and exonerate him, but she couldn't. Not yet. There was still so much confusion she was dealing with. She could only offer him a brief reprieve.

"Thank you, Sir. Lying to me about David is done and over with. But your forgiveness with my hard limit... I'm going to need some time with that."

"I understand. I, too, have done a lot of thinking. It seems I've forgotten to review your hard limits on a monthly basis, thus my fuck up. Now that you have more experience in being submissive, we will reexamine the contract mid-week."

She nodded, thrilled he had remained calm and discussed her concerns in a mature and rational manner. "Fine," she said as she stood and headed for the door. "Oh, and by the way, you're not wrong."

"Hmm? I'm never wrong. But what in particular are you referring to?" he asked confused.

Who the fuck said that?! Gayle reprimanded herself at saying it as she walked out and down the hall. Stew on that for a bit with your little game.

Just after 6 p.m....

For almost two hours in the upstairs hall bathroom, Jessie's daughter, Kelsey combed, primped, pinned up, curled, teased and coifed Gayle's hair expertly until it met Kelsey's approval. Kelsey had already done Gayle's make-up, although Gayle wasn't sure about the grass-green eye shadow and blue eye liner. She wanted a subtle, sexy look, not look like a hooker Hamish hired for the evening. But Kelsey was one stubborn woman, so Gayle gave in and chose to wait until everything was done and then reapply it for a softer, more natural look.

Gayle had been seated on the vanity bench away from the mirror when Kelsey was finally finished. Stepping back, she gave one final inspection of her masterpiece then prompted, "Alrecht. Brammer! See whit ye hink."

Nervously, Gayle approached the mirror with her eyes closed and practically cut herself in half pulling at the robe's belt tight around her waist. Sighing heavily and fearing the worst, she slowly opened her eyes. She didn't know what to look at first: Her flawless, magically altered face or her professional-looking, wedding-inspired hairstyle.

"Kelsey, oh, my god!" she stammered, tilting her head to and fro to get a better view at every angle of her hair.

It was in an upsweep with thin locks of hair cascading down the sides of her face, the back tucked into a soft bun, which was held together at the top by a diamond butterfly hair clip that her mother, Jessie, let Gayle wear for the evening. She couldn't have been more pleased with her make-up. Her normal-colored eyes of blue-gray looked more of a deep sea blue, no gray showing at all and looked bigger than they ever had before.

Turning to Kelsey, Gayle said with a huge smile, "Thank you, Kelsey. You did a great job."

"Ye waur an easy model, Gayle. Thaur wasnae much Ah hud tae dae."

"Pssshht, it takes me an hour to get my face just right, and even then I look like an alcoholic who's been on a week-long binge. I never would have thought green eye shadow would look so good with blue eyeliner."

"Hamish is gonnae swoon when he sees ye! Aam tellin' ye, if Ah werenae merried, Ah'd gie mah left tit tae be his date tonecht."

"Kelsey!" Gayle gasped then chuckled.

"Weel, nae mah left tit but a foot, mebbe. Ronan paid a bonnie price fur these tittes, an' he'd hang me up oan th' clothes line an' beat me raw!" she said seriously, shaking her shoulders that made her double D breasts give Gayle seasickness.

Gayle's mind drifted as she envisioned herself being bound to a clothes line, her feet spread wide, her ankles tied to the posts and being flogged by Hamish.

Feeling her cheeks burning, she said, "I wish I had something to give you for all you've done, Kelsey."

"Nae need. Awl Ah ask is 'at ye hae a guid time."

"Ha! I'm nervous as hell, but I am excited."

"Ah hae nae doobt yoo'll hae a stoatin time. Ronan an' Ah cannae go coz Molly has an upsit tummy, but Maw will be haur tae pick me up. She wants me tae tak' picters afair she gits haur."

Looking at her watch, Kelsey took something out of her purse and handed it to Gayle. "Now, haur ur th' earrings. Ah dornt want tae be in yer way, sae aam gonnae bide mah time haur in th' bathroom until ye tois ur ready fur picters."

Giving Kelsey a quick hug, she thanked her again. "Kelsey, would you let me take you to dinner, or just drinks. We'll have a girl's night out. Si... Hamish won't mind."

Kelsey gave her a broad smile. "Ah wood loove 'at. Ah've hud fun. Ah know ye will nae be haur fur lang, but Ah hiner we can be friends while yoo're haur."

Gayle was very touched and had to push back tears so she wouldn't mess up her make-up that Kelsey painstakingly worked on. "I would. I miss my girlfriends back home."

After closing the door to the bathroom, Gayle put the earrings in her bedroom and knocked on Hamish's bedroom door.

"Come in!" he hollered out, his voice sounding muffled and strained.

"Sir, Kelsey's waiting in the bath -" She stopped mid-sentence and gaped at her boss.

He was standing with his back to her, one foot on the couch and tying his shoe. However, she wasn't looking at his feet, she was looking at the bottoms of his ass cheeks and his balls, which were displayed proudly under the hem of his kilt; the jacket had a rounded tail, but it was hiked up enough to still advertise his goods.

Overcoming her shock quickly, she said, "My, my, Mr. McDougal. I see you are a true Scot."

He shook his head then turned around, giving her a sly grin. "You had any doubt?"

She tried to answer, but she grew tongue tied as she inspected him: He was wearing a waist-length short, open black jacket with three buttons on the sleeves and at the waist; a black vest; a crisp, white shirt and a black tie, which was still untied. There was a round, beautifully decorated sporran in the middle of his waist, held still with a metal chain that rested over the kilt. The kilt itself had a green background with red and yellow stripes, the hem just above his knee caps. His white socks, below his knees, were neatly folded over with black, vertical stripes of fabric on the side of his calves, and she could see something tucked neatly on the inside of the sock on his right leg. His black shoes looked more like thick ballerina slippers with laces that were wound three times up his calves.

Gayle was dumbfounded, looking him up and down, her mouth slowly gaping open. Her ears rang loudly, her heart started to pound before it felt like it thudded to the floor in front of her. Oh, my god! she thought and forced herself to breathe, swallowing the imaginary brick that lodged itself in the back of her throat.

No, she wasn't attracted to him the first time she met him, mainly because he was such a pompous, arrogant butt-head, but that was almost two months prior. Now, however, she saw Mr. Hamish Middle-Name-Unknown McDougal in a whole new light.

He stared at her just as dumbstruck, a smile slowly growing on his lips. "Gayle, your face."

She smirked. "Um, yeah? I've had it with me all my life, though -"

"You're... stunning."

She smiled self-consciously. "Thanks. I thought I'd go for the 'formal' look." Twirling around, basically showcasing the robe she still wore, she asked, "What d'ya think?"

"I'd much prefer you nekkid with pumps." He smirked.

"Ha, ha," she retorted, praying he was just being a man and not serious. "It'll only take me a second to dress." She put her hands on her hips as she looked at his waist. "Sir, I know you like your whisky, but do you really have to wear a flask? I mean, they'll be serving -"

"For godssake, woman! It's a sporran. Have you never seen a dress kilt before?"

"No Sir. They're not really the fashion in America, although, as hot as..." There was nothing she could do to hide her blushing cheeks at the 'h' word. "You look more than handsome, Sir."

That time, even Hamish's cheeks broke out in a red rash. "Well, thank you, Gayle. This is a traditional Scottish dress kilt. The jacket is the typical Prince Charles jacket, and the tartan colors and patterns represent my family's clan. The brogues were scuffed a bit, but I was able to polish them off," he said, showing his feet off.

"What's in your right sock?" she asked, now standing beside him.

He pulled it out and showed her the small sword, the blade sheathed in black felt with a shiny silver design at the end of the handle. "This was my grandfather's. It's a skean duh, strictly ceremonial but a real dagger. The thistle here, in silver, is on our family crest, which matches the kilt pin. Now, all I have to do is this blasted tie. I spent ten minutes on it before I gave up. I knew I should have worn the clip-on neck tie."

"Then you'd look like Pee Wee Herman in a kilt, and you'd embarrass the hell out of me! I can do your tie for you."

"How did you learn?"

"Grampy, Mom's dad taught me."

"Yes."

Looking around the room, Gayle asked, "Can you take the stool to the bathroom so I can see in the mirror?"

A minute later, standing behind him in front of the mirror, she put her arms around his neck and grasping the tie began to tie it. "It's been a while since I've done this, though. Grampy made me do it for two hours until I got it right. I was eight!" She chuckled at the memory.

Looking at her reflection, he replied, "You're doing a splendid job. I'm impressed."

She stopped briefly and looked back at him. For the first time even she couldn't deny they did indeed look good together.

Finally, she finished all she could do from that perspective. "Okay, Sir. Please turn around."

After she fiddled with the final adjustment of the tie, he swiftly pulled open her robe, put his hands on her hips and kissed the tops of each breast. She giggled as his neatly trimmed beard tickled her.

"Hmm," he said as he looked at her. "I don't recall making you giggle last night."

Grinning, she replied, "Last night you weren't as sexy and dressed all fancy-schmancy as you are now."

"Go on and get dressed." As she walked toward the bedroom door, he asked, "Wait. You said Kelsey was waiting in the bathroom?!"

"Yes Sir. She -"

He scowled at her and barked, "Is that the way you treat my guests, Ms. Boyce?"

The mood instantly changed, and she wanted to crawl under the bed. "Of course not, Sir! She didn't want to be in the way. She said Jessie's coming to pick her up, and she wants pictures before we leave."

He exhaled sharply. "Hell. I loathe having my picture taken. I'll talk to her. Now scoot."

Gayle stared at him like his tie had turned into a snake, and it was coming after her.

Seeing her reaction, he realized he had inadvertently hurt her feelings. "It would be nice, I suppose."

Her eyes lit up. "Sir, I would like a reminder of us... dressed up... and looking hot... together."

A smile slowly spread on his lips. "At least one of us will be," he noted seriously.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "You haven't even let me put my dress on yet!"

"Oh, hush, I wasn't talking about you. I won't tell you thrice to get dressed."

"Thrice? Is that like two and a half?"

Narrowing his eyes at her, she knew she pushed him a little too far. "Yes Sir. I'll hurry."

Closing her bedroom door, she removed the robe and took her dress from the armoire. Then she heard a knock on a door in the hallway. "Mrs. Fleming? I apologize for my... for Gayle's rudeness. Please, when you are done in there, come down and make yourself comfortable in the front drawing room while you wait for your mother."

Gayle was furious at him for making her sound disrespectful and ungrateful. Opening her door, she saw Hamish about to descend the stairs. Defending herself, she said, controlling her tone, "Sir, it was her idea."

Expecting a threatening glare when he turned to look at her, she was surprised to see his eyes light. "That's what she said. It's quite fine." A wicked grin spread over his lips. "Now that's the way I like to see you wear," he said, his voice deep and sultry.

"Huh?" Only then did she remember she was standing in the doorway fully naked - and it felt completely natural, not one ounce of insecurity or shyness. She sighed in relief from him not being angry. "I meant to ask you earlier. I got a hundred pound note from the bank Wednesday. Do you think that'll be enough?"

"Love, it's more than adequate. Anything will be greatly appreciated. I've got something to get... to do in my library, and I'll meet you and Kelsey in the room. Don't forget to take the starters. Jack and his wife, Lily should be here shortly. Don't make them wait in the pantry."

She was about to tell him off until she saw him smile. "I was thinking of the hall closet, actually. I'll make sure -"

"One," he interrupted, giving her a very harsh glare, all playfulness gone from his voice and face.

Her head flew back. Oh, my god! He hasn't counted off since... "Yes, Sir. Don't worry. Should I come get you when they arrive?"

"Yes," he answered then headed downstairs.

Fifteen minutes later...

In the kitchen, she was filling a platter with various cheeses and crackers as well as bite-sized sandwiches that Jessie made when a growl came from the doorway. Looking up from the dining table, she saw Hamish standing like a statue, not sure if he was even breathing. His face was frozen, his eyes locked onto her, and he scrutinized her like prey.

Gayle's floor-length black skirt had a slit up her left leg that closed on her upper thigh, yet was by no means slutty or threatened to show off her pantiless crotch. The bodice was a low-cut V-neck of black mesh embellished with sparkling multi-colored crystals in the shape of a butterfly at the waist, held up with thin straps. In the back, the tips of the wings rested just under her arms, leaving the majority of her delicate and dainty back exposed.

"Ms. Boyce, come here," he commanded, his voice raw.

"Sir? I thought you were in your -"

"Come. Here. Now."

Apologizing, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and took a few steps closer to him before he told her to stop. Then she understood that he wasn't angry. All he wanted was to get a better look at her. She had been so worried about getting his approval that now that she got it, and without a single word, her cheeks burned as never before, and she grew self-conscious. She found it very difficult to breathe, so she fisted her hands and simply held her breath waiting for his next instruction.