Authors: Georgia Harries
“Help!
Help me someone!” Eleanor’s whole body was leaden in the water, as the sobering
sea held her captive and struggling to keep her head above water.
“Fabien!
Someone please fetch a rope! A lifejacket!” Harry yelled high–pitched in
a voice he barely recognised. His only thoughts were now for his daughter’s
safety. Tamara rushed to fetch a large bath towel from under the lounger.
Charlie
wasted no time whatsoever. Hurriedly, he climbed over the side of the Eleanor–Jane
and descended the diving ladder confidently, his feet entering the water. He
felt his shoes fill with cold wetness but stepped lower and held out his hand.
“Grab
my hand!”
The
sea was low and he could see that Eleanor had been in no danger of drowning.
But she had very narrowly missed the side of the neighbouring vessel.
“Eleanor!
Are you OK?” Tamara screamed.
Still
in the deepest shock, with the effects of the alcohol fading fast, Eleanor
grabbed Charlie’s offered hand. She spluttered the salted water from her mouth.
“Oh
Daddy! Help me!” She burst into tears as her heavy sodden dress pulled her
against Charlie’s tugging, back into the water.
“Son,
are you able to lift her up on your own?” Harry leaned over and down, towards
the surface behind Charlie. With one confident haul Charlie yanked Eleanor free
from the sea. She placed a foot on to the bottom rung of the ladder. She was
shaking life a leaf.
“Oh
thank God....” Tamara whispered.
Within
seconds, Eleanor had clambered back on to the deck after Charlie. Around her
the staff gawped, incredulous. Harry and Tamara stood next to each other in
silent disbelief. Tamara held out the towel, her face a picture of relief.
Rallying, Charlie coughed and straightened his jacket. This was quite the most
bizarre day he had ever experienced. For two pins he’d get the hell out and
leave them to it. Damn the girl, with her sexy laugh and her cute little body.
Dripping
wet, Eleanor stood helpless and quivering on the deck. Her father advanced
toward her slowly, throwing a furious look to one of the deckhands who had
failed to conceal a giggle. Tamara dearly hoped this would not upset her
husband too much. His workload was so stressful, and he’d been so worried about
Eleanor since the wedding.
But
Harry’s worrying had ceased in a flash as soon as Eleanor had tumbled and hit
the water. He had in fact made his mind up on hearing the awful insult she had
thrown at his wife. Harry had decided that he would be applying the only
disciplinary measure that would remedy his beautiful, errant daughter. Much
more of this tomfoolery and bad–mouthing from her, and not only would the
entire holiday be ruined, but quite probably so too would his marriage. He
glared at Eleanor in mounting fury. She stood pathetic as a drowned rat. The
crew made fast the ropes she had dragged away from the sidings, and Pierre and
the other boys swept away the water that had been brought aboard. Charlie
removed his shoes and emptied them.
At
last, Walker spoke.
“What
in God’s name were you thinking of, you stupid girl? You’ve disgraced us all!
And you were lucky not to be drowned, or very seriously injured! Tamara dear –
give her the towel.”
His
wife did so, wrapping it around the girl’s shoulders. Eleanor could not look at
her. She clasped her arms around herself, trying to bring warmth back to her
body.
“Daddy
I – I’m so sorry!” she sputtered. “ I – I just thought it would be
fun!”
“Fun?
This is a working harbour. I have a paid crew of professionals to think of. And
you could have been killed, you idiot child! As for using that card I gave you
to consort with strange men in a hotel bar, I’m disgusted!”
Charlie
moved to interject.
“I
must speak up sir – I can assure you that I did not –”
“Don’t
worry, boy. I wasn’t referring to you. You have been more than kind enough to
escort my wayward daughter home. And most of all, thank you for your quick
action in saving her from the water. For that I am most grateful. But I must
ask you now to leave.”
Charlie
respected the man’s words. And in any case he’d had enough .He wanted to dry
off, have a drink and think it through. The little devil maybe wasn’t worth it.
“Of
course. Goodnight Eleanor. Good evening to you all,” he nodded politely as he
made his way off the yacht. He turned briefly and looked the teenage beauty in
the eye. She was
snivelling
and looked forlorn.
Despite his annoyance at the way the evening had been ruined, Charlie felt even
more deeply attracted and protective of her.
“I
do hope to see you again, Miss Walker. And when I do, I very much hope our
encounter is a lot less dramatic than today’s has been!”
Eleanor
felt more humiliated by the second, as she watched Charlie disappear slowly up
the hill. He knew deep down he would be back, though. There was no way he was
giving up on that fiery little blonde quite so easily. She badly owed him an
apology and he’d be sure to get it. In the meantime Charlie reckoned as he
smiled to himself, little Eleanor Walker would doubtless be getting something
else altogether from her father.
Aboard
the motor–yacht there was another stony silence, broken only by the gulls
and the lapping water. It seemed as if the whole town had been struck mute by
the shocking antics of the Englishman’s teenage daughter. What a stir she was
causing, thought young Pierre from the galley where he managed to peek up to
deck. And Monsieur Harry did not seem like the kind of father who would see
this kind of behaviour go unpunished.
Eleanor
lowered her head in deep shame, trembling in wet, cold embarrassment. Harry
walked closer to her, still very quiet. He knew exactly what he intended to do,
and do very thoroughly at that. He turned to the staff still in attendance on
deck.
“Everyone
– that’s the end of it all now, please. Your work today is done. Please
feel free to go up to the town. I insist that you have a drink, on me. Fabien,
be so kind please as to organise this with whichever tavern you all please.
Despite my ridiculous daughter’s best efforts, this is not a floorshow.
Stephens, please be assured that my child’s dangerous disobedience will be
dealt with most severely. And it is no reflection on the very tight ship you
run.” The skipper nodded grimly at Walker.
Eleanor
was startled. Whatever did Daddy mean? Surely she had suffered enough with her
fall in the water? She’d learned her lesson already. Raising her head, she
caught Tamara’s eye. The woman looked forgiving and concerned, not smug. Oh
dear, thought Eleanor. Why did I call her such horrible names?
The
staff slowly made moves off the Eleanor–Jane. This was unheard of. A paid
night off on the town, courtesy of the boss. Stephens was still irate. He could
see that little brat in hell, for her behaviour. She badly needed a damned good
hiding. If she were his daughter, he’s have had her over his knee for a
spanking there and then in front of everyone. In the hope that Walker had not
gone soft since marrying the American, Stephens now willed his employer to give
the girl a red-hot bot, with no nonsense.
Tamara
felt she had to speak.
“Harry
dear, do keep calm. No harm has been done. It’s the sun, and the wine. You said
it yourself – it’s so very hot here. And you won’t do it again, will you
Eleanor?”
The
teenager felt all the much more worse, hearing Tamara’s kind, sympathetic
tones. She had wanted so much to hate her, and it was proving completely
impossible.
Harry
was not to be moved by Tamara’s reasoning.
“I’ll
soon sober her up,” he said quietly. “Eleanor. Below deck with you immediately.
Unless you want me to recall the crew? Give those fine gentlemen all of the fun
of the cabaret? Would you like them to have as good a view of your punishment,
as they did of your foolish, drunken acrobatics on my yacht? I really would not
recommend that. Go to my bureau, now! I warned you yesterday what I would do if
you didn’t behave. Well, you’ve got it coming. Now please!”
Horrified,
Eleanor ran. Her soaked prom style skirted dress weighed ever more heavily. She
shivered with cold as she struggled down the spiral stair below deck. Surely
Daddy didn’t mean to punish her
that
way? She was nineteen for goodness
sake! He wouldn’t, would he?
Charlie,
oh that lovely Charlie! Why had she been so careless? If only she hadn’t played
around by the diving ladder. She had thought she might drown when she hit the
water. And now her head and her tummy swam sickly with the champagne, and the
shock and cold. It was a terrible few minutes for Eleanor. She crept into her
father’s bureau at port side and stood awkwardly. She began to wring the water
from the hem of her dress. Daddy never really stayed cross with her for very
long, she reasoned with herself. Eleanor fully expected to be confined to her
cabin for a spell. She certainly wouldn’t be allowed up to Monte Carlo for the
time being. Well, that was OK – there was plenty else to do. And of
course she would apologise profusely to all concerned. Including the people at
The Grand. And Charlie. And she’d be as good as gold for the rest of the
holiday. Beyond that, her dear, kind father would surely accept that it was a
one–off.
Up
on deck, Tamara hugged her husband tight around his waist. He was stiff with
anger.
“Darling,
you must have been terrified. When she went under the water I really thought
the worst. Should I talk to her?”
Harry
turned, wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed the top of her head.
“We
are way beyond the stage of talking, my sweetie. I’ve tried everything. She is
slowly ruining this holiday, and I’m simply not standing for any more of it.
She needs to be taught a damned good lesson.”
“Do
you mean you’re going to – like you said you might?”
“Tan
her backside? You’re damned right I am. She’s not had it often. But I was wrong
to think she’d never need it again. She really is a very sweet child, deep
down. But I’m all for it when it’s necessary. I don’t care how old she is. And
I reckon there’s a great deal more than my hand required, on this occasion. I’m
not having my only daughter cavort around in foreign bars like a call girl. And
I am certainly not having her say one more word against you, my darling. Little
madam won’t sit down for a week by the time I’m done with her.”
Tamara
took in what her husband was saying. He was clearly intent on a stiff corporal
punishment.
“You
mean to – how will you – “ she found it a little embarrassing
searching for the words.
Harry
didn’t.
“My
little Eleanor is going straight over my knee. And depending how she takes to
that bit, she might be very lucky to keep her knickers on. That dress is coming
up, for a start. She wanted a tan. Well, she’s going to get one! Teenager or
not!”
Tamara
smiled faintly and stroked his face gently. .
“You
know, you are a wise old guy, Harry. She is very lucky. My parents never cared
enough for me to bother. I was never spanked, never hugged, never had any real
time with them. Whenever I was unhappy, they just bought me things. It’s a
small miracle I didn’t turn out a complete reprobate!”
They
both laughed gently.
“I
know, my dear one. You are all but a self–made wonder!” He bent down and
gave her a lingering kiss.
“I’d
best go deal with that impossibly naughty daughter of mine before she catches
pneumonia. I’ll not be too long. Why don’t you relax, honey? You must be
rightly sick to death of the Walker family for one day. I won’t be long. Then
we can maybe curl up for the night?” He kissed the tip of her nose.
Below
deck Eleanor stood still dank and wet, shivering unbearably cold in the bureau.
She had her speech all planned. First and foremost, she needed to make friends
with Tamara. As she heard her father at last open the door, she turned to run
to him. Closing the door firmly behind him, Harry stopped her from running into
his arms.
“Oh
darling Daddy! I’m so sorry! I gave you such a terrible fright! You and Tamara!
Honestly I am not hurt! It was a little scary but I’m ok, I promise!”
Still
Harry didn’t embrace her. Eleanor was rather unnerved by the frozen anger still
written all over his face.
“Please
hug me Daddy! I’m so cold!”
Suddenly,
Harry marched over to his swivel chair by his large desk, pulling his daughter
by the arm.
“Well,
you needn’t worry about that I can tell you. You’ll not be feeling cold for much
longer, Eleanor. In fact, you’re about to feel a whole lot warmer than you ever
have in your life, young lady!”
“Daddy!
What on earth do you mean?”
Eleanor
gasped as her father sat down. In a split second, with no ceremony whatsoever,
he dragged Eleanor face down by the arm across his broad lap.
No!
It couldn’t be! He hadn’t even given her the chance to explain! She panicked
and tried to struggle up off his knees, but there was absolutely no chance of
that. At six feet four and extremely well exercised for his age, a slim young
girl was no challenge whatsoever for Harry Walker.
Eleanor
wriggled in terror and tried to turn round and find her father’s face, her wet
clothes all but making the effort impossible.
“No!
You can’t do this, Daddy! I’m nineteen! Please! Let me explain everything! Ooh!
Stop!” she waved her arms and kicked her legs in fierce protest.
Harry
was calm and focused as he pulled his daughter tight to him, his left arm heavy
around her waist. Water was pooling steadily beneath the chair from her
drenched clothing, soaking his linen sailing slacks.
“Please
Daddy! This is just not right! Let me go!”
“You’re
going nowhere,” said Harry grimly, as he settled his writhing charge into
position. “You have totally disgraced yourself in public. You spent my money
without my say–so. You then risked your life with your tipsy horseplay.
And you’ve been ghastly to Tamara since the day you clapped eyes on her. Well,
it all ends right here and now, my girl.”
He
gripped Eleanor firmly into place. She was locked across his knees and tight
against his stomach, which was very well–toned for a man of his age.
Eleanor
mewled and struggled to kick her legs higher. Her thick, wet, blonde curls fell
in messed bunches around her eyes, her head tipping forward to the floor. Had
Daddy taken leave of his senses? This was the way he used to –
spank
her!
But she was a child then. She was now a grown woman. This was crazy!
As
his daughter puffed and struggled, Harry stilled any further notion of kicking
by clasping his right leg over both of hers. Her feet were weighted down by her
high–heeled patent sandals, which were now completely ruined by the
seawater. Eleanor squealed in loud defiance and beat her fists against the
chair leg.
“Oh
stop it, please Daddy! This is ridiculous!”
“I’ll
tell you what’s ridiculous,” said Harry as he gripped the hem of Eleanor’s
dress in stoic anger.
“What’s
ridiculous is that a nineteen year old girl should behave like a drunken lout
in public. Enough is enough, Eleanor. You’ve left me no choice but to punish
you most severely.”
Harry
quickly lifted the skirt of the dripping wet purple dress, and rolled it up in
disarray to her waist.
“Nooo!”
Eleanor was close to tears. How dare Daddy do that? She was a grown–up!
“Please
not like that Daddy! It’s not fair! I’ve said I’m sorry!”
Outside
in the corridor, Tamara considered going in to the bureau to intervene. It was
all becoming rather heated from the sounds of it. As she approached the door
however, she heard Harry continue his lecture and realised it was way too late.
He had to be allowed to discipline his own daughter however he saw fit. Turning
away and heading for the day lounge, Tamara now felt truly sorry for the
teenager. Being put over a paternal knee at nineteen would be utterly
unbearable. Thinking back to her own teen years when she hardly saw her
parents, she wondered how she would have felt herself. Deeply embarrassed of
course, especially if her panties were removed. Would Harry do that to Eleanor?
It had sounded as though he meant to. But oh, to be cared about that much!
Tamara could just make out her husband’s stern words and Eleanor’s ascending
pleas, as she wandered back towards starboard
While
inside the tightly closed bureau door, father and daughter made quite a picture.
The seawater from Eleanor’s clothes had formed a tidy puddle on the floor
underneath the chair where her father sat, his trouser legs now equally wet
through. The nubile teen was prostrate across his broad, strong lap. Her pretty
linen dress was crumpled up and lying sodden across her back. Her legs were
bare and dripping, trapped under his heavy shin.
“Let
me go Daddy, please! I’ll never do it again, I promise!” Eleanor implored, her
voice shaking terribly as she beat her fists in mounting fear and indignity.
Harry was completely deaf to her cries. He re–arranged her firmly so she
tipped further forward and her perfect, peachy bottom was raised higher. She
was now ideally placed for the spanking that was looking more and more
inevitable with every passing second.
“You’ll
be sorry alright, young madam. You’re going to be very sorry for quite some
time,” Harry’s stern lecture continued. Knowing that on this occasion the
application of his hand alone simply would not do, he had spotted the perfect
implement with which to administer the necessary. It was his own deck–shoe.
Leaning down, he removed it from his right foot and lifted it up, briefly
inspecting the thick two–inch leather sole. The sudden movement confused
Eleanor for a second. Then looking back through the chair legs, she saw what
her father had just retrieved.
“No
no
no
!
Please Daddy
,
I’ll do anything
! Please don’t!”
Her
voice climbing ever higher in pitch, Eleanor continued to beg her father for
clemency, lying helpless in a wet heap. This was the stuff of nightmares. He
must not actually spank her! And not with a sandshoe! It was all just
outrageous!