Sir William Peterson, entrepreneur and self-made millionaire leapt to his feet and slammed his hands down on his study desk. “How many times do we have to go through this Fiona?” he roared. “You are nineteen years old and I will not be releasing your trust until you are at least twenty five. Until then you can manage just fine on your monthly allowance.”
Fiona turned on her heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“Get out of my way you old fart,” she snapped at George, Sir William’s butler, who waited patiently outside the room.
As Fiona stomped up the broad staircase to throw herself on the bed in a juvenile tantrum, George knocked gently on the study door and entered.
Sir William looked up wearily. “What am I going to do with my daughter, old friend? She is going to drive me into an early grave.”
“Indeed Sir,” said George. “I hesitate to express an opinion Sir but Mrs. White has asked me to mention that she has a large ebony hairbrush in her room which might be put to good use.”
Mrs. White was Sir William’s housekeeper. She had joined the household just after Sir Williams wife had run off with a Texan oil baron, leaving him to raise their baby daughter alone. Sir William had doted on his daughter, indulging her every wish and demand, and Mrs. White had struggled on many occasions over the years to refrain from turning the spoiled young mistress over her knee.
Sir William looked amused. “I have never raised my hand to my daughter George and despite the temptation I do not intend to start now. After all she is a grown woman and it is way too late to start that sort of thing.”
“Of course Sir,” answered George with a discrete nod of his head, but despite his spoken acceptance, disagreement rang clear in his voice.
“For goodness sake George I know I’ve spoiled her but it’s not as though she’s been caught stealing the family silver.”
“Quite so,” said George, “although if I may say Sir, I believe it will only be a matter of time.”
“George,” said Sir William with a laugh, “I am quite certain you are wrong. In fact I am so certain that I give you my word, if I catch my daughter stealing from me then I will put her over my knee.”
Up in her room, Fiona fumed and punched her pillows. She rolled off the bed and paced around the room. Finally she came to a decision. Snatching up the phone she hammered out the digits of her boyfriend’s phone number.
“Jason,” she barked. “I’ve tried it your way. I’ve tried talking to Daddy but it hasn’t done any good, so now were going to do it my way. I want you to kidnap me, just like we discussed.”
“Fiona this is crazy,” Jason answered with an exasperated sigh. “Your plan will never work and if you insist on doing this then we’re both going to wind up in prison.”
“If you’re too scared to help me I’ll find someone else who will,” Fiona snapped sulkily.
“No!” cried Jason, panicking. “Don’t involve anyone else.”
“Well then, you help me.”
“OK, ok, look, don’t do anything yet. Give me a few days to prepare and then we’ll do as you say.”
“Is that a promise Jason?” Fiona asked
“It’s a promise. “We will fake a kidnapping and you’ll finally get everything you’ve been asking for.”
A week later in Jason’s modern apartment on the edge of town Fiona sat on a non-descript couch facing a camcorder. She wore the short summer dress she had chosen for her kidnap “ordeal”. Jason had taped her ankles together and done the same to her wrists.
“Are you absolutely certain about this Fiona? It’s not too late to back out.”
“Just get on with it,” said Fiona. “I want my money and when Daddy sees this he’ll pay up for sure.”
Jason shook his head but he tore off another strip of tape and stuck it over Fiona’s mouth, just as they had planned. Then, pulling a hood over his own head to hide all but his eyes he turned on the camcorder and sat down beside the bound girl, wrapping an arm roughly around her shoulders.
“Sir William Peterson,” he growled, “We have your daughter. If you ever want to see her again you will bring one million pounds in used notes to the old abbey at Whitby at four-o- clock on Tuesday. Leave the money in the North Transept and don’t get any clever ideas.”
Fiona could barely suppress a smirk of satisfaction at the knowledge that Daddy was finally going to have to part with his money, but then to her surprise, Jason continued.
“If you are thinking of calling the police or failing to pay, Sir William, let me show you what your brat can expect.”
For the first time since the recording started, Fiona looked genuinely frightened. Panicking, she tried to twist toward Jason to see what he was planning. He had said everything she’d told him to say but that last sentence wasn’t in the script.
Grabbing Fiona’s arm with his left hand and with his right arm around her back Jason started to haul Fiona towards him. She pulled back and shook her head wildly. She tried desperately to shout “No” but all she could manage through the tape was a muffled yelp and with a sharp tug Jason hauled her across his knees and clamped an arm over her slender waist. Fiona protested frantically. Her bound ankles kicked like the tail of a stranded mermaid but her squeals did nothing to postpone her fate.
Jason glanced briefly at the camera then raised his hand and slapped it down hard on Fiona’s upturned rump. Her head shot back and her long dark hair flew. She would have howled but the tape across her mouth reduced it to a muffled wail. Harder and faster Jason spanked and Fiona could do nothing to protect her blazing bottom. With Fiona perfectly positioned and helplessly bound Jason laid into her with the full force of his wrath. Fiona’s thin summer dress offered little protection against the crack of Jason’s palm and it was so short that it rode up causing many smacks to land on her panties and on the swell of bare flesh. Tears poured down Fiona’s cheeks and her body shook with sobs as her bottom danced and glowed. She tried in wild panic to separate her taped wrists in a futile bid to reach back and save her bottom from the raging fire, but there was nothing she could do.
After an eternity, Jason rested his hand on Fiona’s stinging cheeks.
“Have you got the message?” he barked at the camera. “Any delay and it will be worse for your daughter.” He finished with a final extra hard smack.
Jason pulled Fiona up off his knee and dumped her back at his side where her blazing bottom made her squirm red face and tear streaked while he turned off the camcorder. Carefully he unfastened the tape from Fiona’s ankles and wrists but before he could take the tape from her mouth she pushed him away, slapped him hard across the face and ran off to the bedroom, ripping the tape off and bawling as she went.
Jason rubbed his face as he watched her disappear and slam the bedroom door. He smiled. The first part of his plan was complete.
An hour later Fiona emerged from the bedroom; her eyes were puffy and her makeup smudged. Her bottom was no longer stinging but sitting was still a painful reminder of the morning’s humiliating events. The apartment was empty and she feared for a moment that Jason had left her. Then she remembered the recording and realised that he would now be delivering the kidnap message to her dad. The ball was rolling and it was too late to turn back.
When Jason finally returned, Fiona was still furious.
“Why the hell did you spank me?” she demanded.
“We had to show your dad that he has to pay up quick,” said Jason. “He needs to know we are ruthless kidnappers who will punish his daughter any time he strays from our instructions. You looked way too relaxed and I needed to do something to make you look scared. I just hope it was enough. Real kidnapers might have cut off an ear or finger and sent it in the post. We’ll have to wait and see now if your dad takes us seriously.”
“It felt bloody serious to me,” said Fiona ruefully, wincing as she slipped her hand up the back of her skirt to give her bottom a careful rub.
“Let’s hope he pays the ransom,” said Jason, “or we might have to be even more persuasive.”
Fiona paled and backed away.
“Y… You wouldn’t, would you?” she wailed. “Jason I don’t want to.”
“For a million pounds Fiona, we’ll have to do whatever it takes,” grinned Jason. “Surely it’s worth a sore bottom to lay your hands on your fortune.”
Fiona bit her lip. Her kidnap plan was spiralling out of her control and she was starting to wish she’d never started it. But it was too late now. All she could do was pray that Daddy would pay up without any trouble. Only time would tell.
Tuesday came and Jason went to collect the ransom. He returned an hour later looking dejected and carrying a small sports bag.
“What’s the matter?” asked Fiona. “Is that the money?”
“Fiona,” said Jason with a bitter laugh. “You couldn’t fit a million pounds in used cash in a bag this size. I told you we were asking for an impossible amount.”
He dipped into the bag and pulled out a note. “Kidnappers,” he read. “I am begging you to release my daughter. I can’t get hold of a million pounds in cash at such short notice and I can’t do it at all without telling the bank why I need it. I have delivered all the cash I could lay my hands on. There is over twenty thousand pounds in the bag. Please don’t make my daughter suffer. I have done everything I can to obey your instructions.”
Fiona dropped into a chair looking crestfallen. “Twenty thousand, what good is that? What do we do now?” she said.
“We demand more,” said Jason angrily. “Your dad could easily pull together at least a couple of hundred thousand for starters. If he thinks we’re going to fall for this sob story he can think again. Twenty thousand is nothing. We have to show him we really mean business. I’ll set up the camcorder. You strip off down to your underwear.”
“M…My underwear!” said Fiona. “What the hell for?”
“We have to make you look really vulnerable,” Jason explained. “It would be best if you stripped off completely but I don’t suppose you want your dad to see you naked.”
Ten minutes later Fiona sat reluctantly in front of the camera, pink faced and embarrassed, with nothing but a lacy white bra and panties to protect her modesty. Jason taped her ankles and wrists again and was just peeling a strip off for her mouth when Fiona spoke.
“Y… You won’t spank me again will you Jason? I… I mean I’ve stripped down to my underwear like you said. That’ll be enough to scare Dad into paying up. Won’t it?”
Jason didn’t answer straight away. He seemed to be concentrating on peeling off the tape strip. Then taking the tape in both hands he kissed Fiona quickly on the lips and stuck the tape over her mouth.
“We have to be really persuasive,” he said gently. “And I mean really persuasive.”
Fiona shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, acutely conscious of how thin the scanty material of her panties felt. Surely Jason wouldn’t spank her again. It would be unbearably painful, not to mention unbearably humiliating.
Jason turned and picked up his hood from a chair and it was only then that Fiona noticed it had been concealing a large wooden hairbrush.
“Mmmmmfff” Fiona burbled through the tape. She shook her head wildly and tried to struggle to her feet.
“Oh that’s really good Fiona,” grinned Jason. “That’s just the look we’re after.” He switched on the camcorder and pushed Fiona back onto her seat. He sat beside her, holding her down with a strong arm around her shoulders.
“You’ve made a big mistake playing games with your daughter’s safety Sir William. And now she’s going to pay the price for your foolishness.”
“nnnggggoooo! kleeeese et gne go!” cried Fiona.
Jason yanked the lightweight heiress across his knees again and grabbed the hairbrush. Fiona wailed. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, making her struggle even more, and dragged them over her soft round bottom and down her thighs then he raised the hair brush high and smacked.
Fiona’s eye’s shot open and tears flooded down her cheeks, soaking the tape over her mouth. The sting of the ebony hairbrush was far worse than she could have imagined. Jason ranted at the camcorder emphasising every other word with another searing whack.
After two minutes of unrelenting punishment, Fiona’s bottom was blazing and scarlet. The tape on her mouth was peeling away and she was bawling.
“Please Jason,” she cried between sobs. “Stop! Stop! I can’t take any more.”
Jason landed one last smack and stopped. Fiona looked back over her shoulder with pleading in her eyes. Jason dragged the hood off his head and Fiona was shocked to see he looked furious.
“You used my name,” he snapped.
“You called me Jason. On tape.”
“I… I’m sorry. But my bottom…”
“Now we’re going to have to start again.” He pulled the hood back over his head.
“No Jason. No!”
Jason raised the hairbrush. “Sorry Fiona but you brought this on yourself.”
“No!” screamed Fiona. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Sobbing and sniffling she looked back pleadingly at Jason. Her bottom burned like hell. “I wish I’d never started this, I don’t want to be kidnapped. I want to go home.”
“But what will you tell your dad?”
“I… I’ll tell him you just let me go. I’ll say you got scared. You thought the police were closing in and you just ran with the twenty thousand.”
Jason smiled and lowered the hairbrush.
Two hours later, dishevelled and sore, Fiona gently lowered herself into a chair in her father’s study and poured out the dramatic tale of her awful ordeal. She was just elaborating on how she had tried to escape but three of the kidnappers had chased her down and locked her in a cellar, when her tale was cut short by a knock on the door. George entered carrying a familiar looking bag.
“Excuse me sir, miss, but a young gentleman just called and left this bag with instructions that it was to be delivered to Sir William immediately. He was quite insistent.”
“Ah, thank you George. I have been expecting this,” said Sir William.
Sir William dipped into the bag. First he pulled out a DVD which Fiona realised with growing unease looked just like the ones her and Jason had been producing. Next was a hairbrush. Fiona’s face paled. It was the same hairbrush that had been used on her bottom earlier in the day. Finally Sir William dug out some bundles of money and flipped through them, judging that his twenty thousand was intact.
Fiona sat silent and red faced, nibbling her bottom lip.
Sir William slipped the DVD into his laptop and set it playing. He turned it towards Fiona so that she could share the view. It was all there; the humiliating bare bottom spanking over her boyfriend’s knee, kicking and crying like a naughty child, the pleading for it to stop and the damning confession.
“You are very lucky young lady,” said Sir William. “If I’d thought for a second that you had been kidnapped I would have been straight onto the police. They would have tracked you and Jason down on day one and there would be nothing I could do to stop you going to prison for fraud.”
Fiona looked genuinely frightened and tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Fortunately, your boyfriend had the good sense to come and see me. He convinced me that he could persuade you to drop the idea.”
A flash of anger crossed Fiona’s face at the news she had been betrayed.
“Don’t you dare look like that young lady. You should be damned grateful!”
“Grateful?” Fiona spat. “That bastard lied to me. And he spanked me, twice!”
“I know,” answered Sir William with a smile. “When the first spanking failed to convince you I leant him the hairbrush and told him to lay it on hard.”
Fiona shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, her bottom still tender after the painful events.
“So let me tell you what’s going to happen now,” said Sir William. “You can continue to live under my roof. You can have your allowance and when I think you can handle it, I will release your trust. But there are going to be changes. You may be nearly twenty years old but from now on any more unacceptable behaviour will land you over my knee. It’s been made clear to me that I have neglected to discipline you when you were younger and we have a lot of catching up to do.”
Fiona opened her mouth to protest but Sir William continued.
“You are not a prisoner. You can walk away at any time. But, if you go, you go penniless. So what’s it to be. Are you going to pack your bags or will you stay and accept the new rules?”
Fiona could not face the prospect of poverty and she didn’t believe her behaviour would really earn her a spanking from her dad. He would never raise his hand to her. “I…I’ll stay,” she mumbled. She felt a great wave of relief at getting away so lightly.
“Good,” said Sir William. He stood up and walked around the desk to tower over his delinquent daughter. “Now,” he said, “you tried to steal a great deal of money from me Fiona and I made a promise to an old friend that I intend to keep.” Sir William reached down and removed his large leather slipper.
“Oh no, Daddy, no! ” cried Fiona as her dad took hold of her arms and pulled her from her chair.
Sir William sat down and dragged Fiona over his knee.
George the butler had stood discretely by the door but now he retrieved the hairbrush and joined Sir William.
“Ah hum, will you be requiring the hairbrush Sir?”
“George! You bastard,” yelled Fiona.
Sir William looked at the hairbrush on George’s silver salver. “Perhaps in five minutes George. As for you young lady, I had only intended to use my slipper, since you’ve already been soundly spanked once today, but in view of your outburst I can see stronger measures are required. Perhaps when I’ve finished with you we should allow George to address your rude behaviour. ”
Gorge smiled, Fiona wailed, and the slipper came down with a blistering thwack…