by Abigail Armani
Daisy smiled at the nurse who plumped up her pillows and handed her the photograph album.
"There you go, Daisy. You spend many an hour with that photograph album - happy memories?"
"Thank you, dear. Oh yes - very happy memories. I never tire of looking at the old photos. How quickly the years pass."
"That's so true," agreed the nurse. "And is there a photograph of you somewhere in there?"
"Several. I was quite a looker in my day you know," laughed Daisy. "Would you like to see?"
"I certainly would."
The nurse drew up a chair and sat by the old lady's bed. Daisy gripped the album tightly with her gnarled hands, and opened the first page.
"This is me in 1948 when I was twenty. Goodness me - I had a waist in those days!"
The nurse scanned the photograph. It showed an attractive and smiling young woman standing on the sand in a red swimsuit. Her long dark hair was worn in a thick braid and hung over her shoulder. It was so long it reached past her waist, and the end of the braid was tied with a jaunty red ribbon. "Oh - you look stunning! Really pretty... and what gorgeous hair. Where was this taken?"
"On Brighton beach. That's where I met Frank."
"Frank?"
Frank. Daisy's weak blue eyes misted over at the memory of that long hot summer day in August. The beach was crowded with holiday makers and day trippers. A happy hubbub of voices was carried on the breeze. Adults and children alike splashed in the white-crested surf, ran on the damp sand, made sandcastles, or sprawled leisurely on deck chairs or beach towels.
On that day, Daisy was helping old Joe out with the donkey rides. She took hold of the jingling bridle of Boris, and led him along the beach, accompanied by the delighted squeals of the other riders following in a little procession. It was on the return lap when Boris misbehaved. He slowed right down to a crawl and would not go any faster despite Daisy pulling and tugging him. Ever afterwards, Daisy would swear that the old donkey knew exactly what he was doing. He stopped right next to the prone figure of a man sunbathing - and then, with a devilishly triumphant light in his eyes, he pooped noisily.
Splat! Splat! Splat!
"Aaaaargh!" cried the man, sitting up. "What the devil...?"
He stared in abject horror at the pile of steaming donkey turds that covered his feet, and reacted by kicking away the offending odorous lumps. His face turned red with anger, and a vein bulged dangerously at his temple.
The little boy riding on Boris shrieked with glee and pointed to the mishap.
"Bad Boris," admonished Daisy, her mouth twitching. "Bad, bad Boris." She giggled, snorted, then bellowed with laughter. It was very rude of her of course, but she just couldn't help it.
Boris had a wicked gleam in his eyes. He pooped again.
"Get that damned ass out of here!" roared the man. "Disgusting, filthy, objectionable animal. Get rid of it!"
"He's a very nice donkey is Boris. Sensitive too - he won't take kindly to you calling him rude names," chuckled Daisy.
Boris farted loudly in agreement. This sent both his young rider and Daisy into a paroxysm of laughter again. The man jumped up, shaking his fists, his face livid. Daisy reacted by tugging sharply on Boris's bridle. Boris departed with a farewell fart.
"I'm terribly sorry," called Daisy. "He's been eating too many apples." She flashed a cheeky and uncontrite smile at the rather handsome man with the very cross face, and went on her way.
After Joe took over from Daisy at lunchtime, she paddled in the sparkling sea for a while, and then scanned the crowded beach for a suitable spot to sunbathe. There was a solitary vacant candy-striped deck chair far off to the right, close to the sand dunes. So she headed for it, settled down and closed her eyes, feeling the warm sun and gentle breeze caress her skin. She lay there, in that wonderfully relaxed almost but not quite asleep stage, when an angry voice broke through her reverie.
"Oi!"
Daisy opened her eyes and frowned. Someone was standing over her, a dark shadow blotting out the sun.
"That's MY deck chair."
"It's mine now," snapped Daisy. "Go away."
"You! I might have guessed."
Daisy recognised the voice now. She looked up into the face of the man that Boris had pooped on earlier. He didn't look at all pleased to see her.
"Ah," she began. "Well, it was an empty deck chair. I didn't know it was yours."
He produced a ticket from his shorts pocket and waved it in front of her nose. "Proof!"
"Huh." Daisy levered herself out of the deck chair with as much dignity as she could muster.
"Hmmpf," snorted the man, and sat heavily and awkwardly down on the now vacant chair.
With a creak and a crack, the deck chair collapsed beneath him and he ended up flat on his back with his legs in the air. This was too much for Daisy. She spluttered and giggled and then shrieked with laughter at the sight of him. With a series of muttered curses, the man picked himself up and took a step towards her. His jaw was set firm and his face unsmiling. Daisy turned and fled, still laughing, into the sand dunes. He followed. He soon caught her up, and rugby tackled her to the ground.
Daisy squealed, with a mouth half full of fine sand.
"I'll give you something to squeal about, you little madam."
Daisy found herself being hauled over his lap. She kicked and wriggled, but his left arm pinioned her lower back, and he positioned his legs over hers to prevent her from kicking.
"Get off me at once, you brute!"
"Oh - a brute, am I?" He slapped his right hand down on her bottom.
Daisy blinked in surprise and shrieked in outrage.
"You let your perishing donkey crap all over my feet!" He slapped again, harder. "And you laugh about it." Three more spanks rained down over her shorts.
"Ow! Ow!" Daisy squealed. "How dare you spank me!"
"And then, you steal my deck chair and laugh at my misfortune." He gave her a few more cracking spanks.
"Pig! Get off!" yelled Daisy.
"And then you call me a pig. Right." He spanked her again. "I'll tell you this, if you were my girl, you'd be getting a bare bottomed spanking to help motivate you to behave better."
Daisy gasped, the blood rushing to her face at the very thought of it. "That would be most improper," she said stiffly and wriggled off his lap.
"It wouldn't be improper if we were better acquainted," said the man with a gleam in his eye.
"Then it's just as well we're not acquainted at all," she retorted. What an extremely forward young man. What an extremely handsome young man. She found herself staring into a pair of twinkling blue eyes topped by dark brows and a thatch of dark hair. Her bottom tingled in a most appreciative way after her brief impromptu spanking. She lost focus for a moment and wondered what it would be like to have a bare bottom spanking.
He gave her a knowing look as though to suggest he knew exactly what she was thinking, and as his eyes surveyed her, he knew he liked what he saw. She had a pretty face, a cheeky smile, and a wonderful shapely figure with a narrow waist, a full bosom and nicely rounded hips with buttocks that jutted out jauntily as though they were just begging for a spanking.
"What's your name, you naughty minx?" He grinned at her. He looked stunning when he smiled, his face animated.
"Daisy," she smiled at him. Her heart lurched. She found she couldn't look away from those dazzling blue eyes
"Hello Daisy. I'm Frank. And I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance." He flashed her that grin again. "And, I feel I should apologise for my impetuous behaviour - not that a few light spanks on the bottom ever killed anyone."
Daisy arched her brows. "That's not the point. You shouldn't have done it - at least not without asking first."
"Oh I see. So if I'd asked you if I could spank your bottom, you'd have said yes please?"
"Of course I wouldn't!"
"Well then, I'm kind of glad I got in there first."
"That was very forward of you," she said, trying to sound prim, but failing miserably. She just wanted to giggle.
"It was, and I apologise most profusely. Let me buy you an ice cream. What do you say?"
After the briefest hesitation she asked, "Chocolate ice cream?"
"As much chocolate ice cream as you can eat, Daisy."
Daisy. She liked hearing her name on his lips. As they walked she darted sidelong glances at him. He was indeed the most handsome man she had ever set eyes on. She was in love!
They strolled over the sand dunes and conversation came easily with no awkward silences. They found a quiet corner in the ice cream parlour and talked for almost two hours. She found she wanted to know everything there was to know about him, and he her. When he asked if he could see her again, she said yes. And so it started. She became Frank's girl. She adored him and he her - but he didn't let her get her own way all the time. He had certain standards of behaviour that he expected her to uphold, and if she didn't he'd spank her bottom. It was nothing abusive or particularly hard, just hard enough to make a point. And it was also incredibly erotic for both of them.
After they had been courting for ten months, Frank proposed and a delighted Daisy said yes. It was from that point that their relationship changed, for Frank made clear his views regarding domestic discipline. He as the unchallenged head of the household, was more than happy to spank Daisy's bottom whenever she needed it, both for fun and also to keep her in line and reinforce acceptable standards of behaviour. During the previous ten months, aside from a few swats over her clothes, Daisy hadn't received a proper spanking - and she was more than keen to experience one - bare bottomed of course. The very thought of it sent shivers up and down her spine and gave her a delicious squirmy feeling in the pit of her tummy.
So it was that on her wedding night, Daisy undressed for Frank for the first time. He watched her with a slow smile, his eyes drinking in her seductive form. Initially shy, Daisy shrugged off her inhibitions along with her clothes and stood before him as naked as the day that she was born. Her hair was loose and it rippled down past her waist, glossy and beautiful.
"Come here," said Frank hoarsely. He had waited ten months for sight of her naked body, and to gaze upon it at last was a real thrill. She was his. He held out his arms and she stepped into his embrace. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.
Flushed with desire she responded to his kiss, all her senses alive at the sensations attacking her body as his hands smoothed her buttocks, stroked her breasts, squeezed her nipples. She was breathless with excitement and a mounting desire for what was to come, so was surprised to find herself suddenly upended, laying half across Frank's lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, with the top half of her body stretched out over the eiderdown.
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