Little Sophie and the Professor Page 5

  Feeling deliciously brave and adventurous, she picked up the keys and let herself quietly out of the house. Jack was working upstairs in the little study, the floor covered with sheets of paper and ring-backed files. He was so engrossed he would never hear her.

  She unlocked the car and slipped into the driver's seat. Although she'd passed her driving test at 18, she hadn't been able to afford a car of her own, so aside from the occasional hire car, she didn't have much experience. For a moment she faltered, but then her determination kicked in. She really wanted those things from the toy store. She could be there and back in 45 minutes.

  She turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred into life. She fiddled around with the gear lever, selected first gear, and depressed the accelerator, wincing as she could barely reach the pedals. The car didn't move an inch. Puzzled, she stared at the gears. And then remembered the handbrake.

  "Silly me," she muttered, and released the brake.

  The big silver car rolled forward slowly. Very carefully and cautiously, Sophie drove to the end of the drive and then turned onto the road. She was off! Second gear, and then third... oops - it crunched horribly - that was fifth.

  "Keep calm. You'll soon get the hang of it," she told herself, struggling with the clutch pedal. Driving through the quiet residential streets was fine, but once she turned onto the main road, it was a different matter. Her first mistake was indicating right but turning left. The driver behind her honked his horn angrily, and when he overtook her, his passenger wound down his window and said something extremely rude.

  Sophie gulped and carried on. Her second mistake was stalling at the traffic lights. It seemed to take her forever to get ready to set off again and her little feet almost tied themselves into knots, but by the time she'd sorted herself out, the lights had changed back to red and she had another wait, with impatient motorists behind her pipping their car horns.

  At this point, Sophie wished she'd had the foresight to bring a cushion to act as a booster seat. Jack was a tall man, and little Sophie was ... well... little. She was so small she had difficulty seeing over the top of the steering wheel, and her feet barely reached the pedals. She turned a corner too tightly and almost knocked over a cyclist. Shocked at the near miss, her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Still, she was almost there. By some miracle she made it to the car park behind the toy store and sat in the car trembling from head to foot.

  ---oOo---

  Jack added another column of numbers to his spreadsheet, clicked Save, and glanced at his watch. He smiled, stretched, and called to Sophie.

  "Ok princess, I'm making good progress here. Break time. You want to go to the toy store now?" No answer. "Sophie?" Still no answer.

  Jack got up and went through to the third bedroom where Sophie had been playing. There stood the doll's house, gleaming in it's fresh lick of paint, but of Sophie there was no sign. He assumed she must have got bored and gone downstairs or out into the garden. She wasn't downstairs, so he went out of the back door and into the garden.

  "Sophie? Sophie," he called. Puzzled, and with a feeling of mounting unease, he went round to the front of the house ... and noticed his car was gone from the drive. Shocked, and then angry, he put two and two together. "You stupid, stupid little idiot," he muttered, then called a cab. There was one in the vicinity and it arrived minutes later. "Simkins Toy Store please," he told the driver, then sat stony-faced in the back of the cab.

  The cab pulled up in front of the toy store. Glancing into the adjacent car park, Jack could see his Mercedes and a small figure hunched over the wheel. He paid the cab driver and strode over to his car, a steely glint in his eyes. Opening the diver's door he barked, "Move over."

  Sophie's head jerked up in surprise. Her face was pale and strained. "Jack! Wh-what are you doing here?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" he said curtly. "Now move over. I won't tell you again."

  Sophie swallowed and obeyed. As Jack slid into the vacated driver's seat, she cast him an anguished glance, and her hands began to tremble again.

  "Er .. I'm sorry, Jack," she whispered.

  "Oh you will be," he said. "What the hell possessed you to take the car?"

  "Um, well... you were so busy, and I didn't want to disturb you. I just thought ... I th-thought I'd be there and back without you noticing. I just wanted to get a few things from the toy store, that's all."

  "That's all?" His tone cut like ice. "Do you realise what you've done? Not only did you take my car without my permission, you drove it without insurance! That's a criminal offence. You could have killed someone. Or yourself."

  "Oh... I d-didn't th-think about the insurance," she stuttered. Oh you stupid girl, she berated herself inwardly. You stupid, stupid idiot.

  Jack look at her in exasperation, his eyes glinting dangerously. He was furious. He took a deep breath. "There's obviously something amiss. You were trembling at the wheel even before I showed up and caught you out. So what happened? Tell me."

  There was nothing for it but to tell the truth. Sophie told him about putting the wrong indicator on, stalling at the traffic lights, and the sharp turn where she narrowly avoided knocking over a cyclist.

  "I feel terrible. I'm so sorry, Jack. Please believe me."

  "Yes. I believe you are sorry, but that doesn't alter the fact that you've done wrong. You knew full well that had you asked me if you could borrow the car, I'd have said no." Sophie hung her head in shame. "And the reason I'd have refused is because you aren't insured to drive it. You can thank your lucky stars that you weren't pulled up by the police."

  "I know," she said miserably. "I'm so sorry."

  The drive back home was full of a foreboding silence. When they returned to Jack's house, he escorted Sophie into the kitchen. Seating himself on one of the chairs, he pointed to a drawer. "Bring me the hairbrush, Sophie."

  She gulped, and tottered over on wobbly legs to retrieve it, knowing full well that it was about to be used on her bottom, not to brush her hair with. The brush was large and paddle-shaped, made of a dark mahogany-stained wood. It felt very heavy in her hand. Reluctantly, she handed it to Jack.

  He fixed her with a gimlet stare. "Take off your skirt, Sophie." She complied, trying to postpone the inevitable by taking as long as she could, folding the garment up neatly and setting it down on the table. "And now your panties."

  Sophie peeled them down slowly, feeling extremely foolish. She didn't like having to take them down herself - it was so much fun when Jack did it for her. But unlike their other sessions, this wasn't play. This was discipline because she'd done wrong. This wasn't going to be fun - at all. Self consciously, she covered her shaved pussy with her hands, and gave Jack a pleading look.

  "Move those hands away girl."

  "Y-yes Sir." She stood with her hands by her side.

  "Now, Sophie. Tell me why I'm about to punish you."

  "Um... because I-I deceived you."

  "And?"

  "And ... I took your car without asking."

  "And?"

  "I ... I knew I didn't have insurance," she admitted. "All I was bothered about was going to the toy store to get the things I wanted for the doll's house."

  "Anything else?"

  Sophie bit her lip. "I drove badly and nearly caused an accident; and I almost knocked a cyclist over." There. It was out. She'd admitted everything. "And I'm truly sorry," she added in a miserable little voice.

  Jack nodded, his face impassive. "Right. Now I want you to bend over the table."

  Sophie had expected to go over his lap. She liked the proximity to him and the feeling of closeness. But it was not to be. Not on this occasion. This was punishment, and she knew she deserved it.

  She bent over the table, gripping the far edge tightly. Then she waited. The kitchen clock marked the time with a soft 'tick tick tick' and Sophie wished she could just get it over with. This waiting was horrible.

  Jack raised the brush and smacke
d it down hard on the centre of her right cheek.

  "Yeowww!" screeched Sophie. Oh that brush had the most fearsome bite. Her bottom burned. "Please may I rub?" she begged.

  "No you may not," said Jack firmly. He applied another stinging swat to her left cheek.

  Sophie squealed as a white-hot heat seared her poor defenceless bottom, and before the burn faded, that nasty old hairbrush kept on going and going. Left cheek. Right cheek. Left cheek. Right cheek. It beat out a relentless tattoo on her bottom. There was no respite.

  Sophie wailed, wiggled and kicked as the torture hairbrush punished her naughty little bottom which, did she but know it, sported burning crimson brands. She yelled even louder when the brush made it's mark at the top of her pale and tender thighs. She hated having her thighs spanked. It hurt so much.

  "Please, PLEASE - I'll be g-good. I p-p-promise," she babbled. The fire in her rear end smouldered. It hurt so much.

  The brush cracked down again on her bottom, the next stroke falling lower, landing on the underside of her right cheek. Sophie yelped as the brush bit that same tender spot several more times. Frantically, she waved her red bottom from side to side, trying to shake the terrible burning pain away.

  "It hurrrrts!" she protested.

  "I know," said Jack. "Keep still." The brush descended again.

  Sophie wailed continuously - a high-pitched strangled sort of sound. Although the pain was awful, what bothered her more was the fact that Jack was displeased and disappointed with her. She hated that, hated it with a vengeance. Tears of remorse and self pity trailed down her cheeks. What made things worse was that she had no idea how long her ordeal would last. Usually Jack would tell her how many more to go, so she could prepare herself. But this was different.

  Six more sharp cracks landed across the centre of her seat, and then came the words she was longing to hear.

  "That's it, Sophie."

  "Ohhhh," she sniffled, relieved it was over at last.

  "Go and stand in the corner and don't move until I tell you to do so. I want you to stand there and think about what you did and understand fully why you have been punished."

  With these words, Jack turned and left the room. He went upstairs, spent fifteen minutes finalising his budget spreadsheets, and then sent them via email to the university offices.

  Sophie, meanwhile, was in tears. Her bottom burned and throbbed and she knew she'd have trouble sitting down for dinner that night. But the worst thing was that there had been no forgiving hug after her spanking. She sobbed and sobbed, her shoulders heaving, thinking that she'd blown her relationship with her new daddy. So caught up in her emotional turmoil was she that she failed to hear Jack's footsteps as he returned to the kitchen. When she felt his hands on her shoulders, turning her round to face him, she started crying all over again.

  "Please p-please don't be a-angry with me any more," she whimpered. "Please. I'm s-so sorry."

  "I know, darling. You did wrong. You've been punished and forgiven. It's all over now." He handed her a handkerchief. "Blow," he ordered gently.

  Sophie blew her nose several times, and handed the handkerchief back, a soggy crumpled mess of white cotton. Then she immediately dissolved into another bout of tears and snatched it back again.

  "Sophie, sweetheart. That spanking was designed to hurt, but you've taken harder ones in our play sessions and been fine with them. There's no need to keep on distressing yourself. Hush those tears."

  "But ... but you hate me," she cried between sniffles.

  "Hate you? What a silly thing to say. Of course I don't hate you. I love you." Jack took her in his arms and hugged her close. "You're the most precious thing in my life."

  Sophie blinked, convinced she'd misheard. "I - I didn't know that," she sniffed.

  "No? Then let me tell you again. I love you, Sophie. I'm sorry I had to punish you, but you needed to learn a valuable lesson." Tenderly he kissed away her tears, then took a towel and soaked it in cold water, and began wiping her tear-stained face.

  Sophie felt her heart was bursting. "I love you too," she whispered. "So much."

  "I know, babygirl." He picked her up and carried her into the lounge where they snuggled up together on the sofa. "You ok now, sweetheart? We'll rub some soothing cream into that hot little bottom of yours."

  "I'm more than ok." Sophie smiled, full of joy. "I'm the happiest girl in the world. And I promise you, I've learned my lesson. You were right to punish me. I'm truly sorry for what I did. It was irresponsible and I'll never, ever do it again."

  And she never did.

  ---oOo---

  Three nights later Jack phoned for pizza and they ate it in front of the TV accompanied by a bottle of Chiraz and a tub of chocolate and cherry ice cream.

  "Mmn. Mmn. Delicious ice cream," mumbled Sophie with her mouth full.

  "Do you know you're wearing that ice cream on your chin, you dirty little girl?" Jack scooped some off and deposited a big blob on the end of her nose, making her shriek with glee. He grinned and cleared away the remains of the pizza and the empty wine bottle. "I'll clear up, but you're on dish washing duty, young lady." He returned from the kitchen with a pile of books. "I'd forgotten all about these. I picked them up along with the Tiffany lamp and the you-know-what at the junk shop we visited." He tactfully omitted to mention the doll's house as, despite him encouraging her otherwise, Sophie had refused point blank to play with it following what they referred to as 'the car incident'.

  "Oh? What are they?"

  "Kids books mainly, but this one is about children's book illustrators. I liked it because it has illustrations by Arthur Rackham. I used to love his stuff when I was a kid."

  "Oh me too! Gnomes, fairies, goblins ... his work was magical. It still is. Can I see?"

  "Sure." He handed it over. They pored over it together for ten minutes. "You know, I used to have a book of Hans Christian Anderson's fairy tales illustrated by Arthur Rackham. I wonder what happened to it?"

  "I hope it didn't get thrown away. Maybe your mother has it still?"

  "It's possible I suppose." Jack looked at Sophie. "While we're on the topic of my mother up in Scotland, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

  "Uh huh." She looked at him questioningly.

  "We've been seeing each other now for almost four weeks. Are you happy, Sophie?"

  "Happy?! You bet I am. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

  "In that case ..." he paused and looked at her with twinkling eyes. "I was planning to go up to Kilchurny for two weeks. Want to come with me?"

  Sophie stared, her eyes wide. "To the castle? Your castle? Really? Oh God - yes please! I'd love to! It will be fantastic!" She threw her arms around his neck. "How long does it take to get there? When can we go? I must start packing! Shall I make a list of things we need to take? Oh - I'm so excited."

  Jack laughed at her enthusiasm. "We'll have an early start and drive up there on Saturday morning. It's over 300 miles, so it will take us 5 and a half to six hours, depending on the traffic, plus stops en route. Although it's summer, it can get cold in the evenings, so pack a couple of warm sweaters and a waterproof jacket, and some walking boots if you have any?"

  "Yes, I have a pair, plus a thick pair of hiking socks to go under them. Wow - this is amazing!"

  "I'm sure you'll love it. Let's hope for some fine weather so we can get out and about. Now - I do have to take my laptop because I have a some work to do - not much, just 10 hours or so, which I'll spread out over the two weeks - but I'm sure you'll find plenty to occupy yourself with if I'm busy. There are books and games up there - including some of my old toys - plus towels and linen, so all you need bring is some clothes. We'll stop for groceries when we reach Argyll."

  "Wheeee - I'm going to Scotland. I'm going to a castle," sang Sophie as she jumped up and down, waving her arms wildly like a windmill. She was in hyper mode, rushing around the place in her excitement, tripping over rugs, dropping stuff, barging into thin
gs. Jack decided he was going to do something about it before she smashed his house to bits.

  "Come here, Sophie."

  There was something in his voice... strong steel under the warmth and amusement, that started the butterflies fluttering around inside her tummy. She ignored them and carried on jumping around. "Shan't," she said, and stuck out her tongue.

  Jack raised his eyebrow. "I won't tell you again, Sophie. You're my smart, funny and pretty little girl, but sometimes you go too far."

  "I am smart, aren't I Daddy?" She play punched him in the ribs." And funny. And pretty."

  "In future, you won't interrupt when we're having a discussion like this." His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. "Is that clear?"

  "Yes Daddy. I'll try and calm down."

  "You will calm down."

  "Maybe there were too many additives in the ice cream."

  "Maybe," said Jack cynically. "Upstairs. Now. It's bath time, and then ..." His words trailed off, but there was a familiar gleam in his eyes that Sophie recognised and welcomed. She squealed and ran upstairs, Jack following.

  As always, they enjoyed the ritual of bath time, and Sophie had great fun with a yellow plastic duck and loads of bubbles. There was much splashing and giggling, but after Jack had towelled her dry, he didn't put her into pyjamas. Instead, he gave her a wolfish look that made her feel all squirmy inside.

  "What is it, Daddy? What have you got planned?"

  "Something guaranteed to get you feeling extra submissive." He sat on the bathroom chair. "Over my lap, little girl."

  "Oooo - a bedtime spanking!" Sophie hurled herself over his lap, all pink and scrubbed and squeaky clean.

  "No. No spanking ... yet. Something completely different. A butt plug, to begin with."

  Sophie's head shot up. "A what did you say?"

  "You heard." He reached under the chair for a tube of lube he had placed there.

  "But, um ... I'm not sure I ..."