Magical Mayhem (12 page)

"No, that is so not fair! It was all you! You looked at me, daring me... and I am sick of being dared. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you, and it doesn't mean crap to me, little girl. You did what you were expressly warned not to do. Now I am going to see to it that you don't do it again." The elevator opened and he dragged her to their suite, ignoring the looks they were getting from an elderly couple who passed them in the hallway.

"I'll quit if you dare..."

"Has it occurred to you, young lady, that you just might not have a job after that little stunt?" He didn't mean it, of course, but he was angry, and Megan would try the patience of a saint.

"You wouldn't really fire me?" Megan asked, suddenly ready to cry. "Please, don't do that, Montague. I'm really sorry. I have a horrible temper at times..."

"So do I, Megan, and you're about to find out that my temper stings." They were inside the suite and he marched her over to the table where they ate their meals. "Pull up your gown and bend over the table." His voice was hard and without any sympathy whatsoever. His hands were already at his slim waist, undoing his belt and sliding it through the loops on his pants. He saw her green eyes widen in fear, and he didn't allow it to faze him. She needed a serious lesson and she was going to get one to remember the next time she handed him that wand. "Now, Megan."

"Not with your belt, Montague! I'll be black and blue!" she informed him.

"And I guarantee you'll never pull that stunt again," he countered. "Five seconds, Megan, and then the ten you're getting will be twenty-five."

Megan knew he was serious. He was angry with her, and he meant to strap her. She'd pushed him too far and he was planning to make sure she knew it. She had no choice, not if she wanted to keep her job... but even more importantly, if she wanted a relationship with Montague. Suddenly, she felt very guilty. How was he ever to trust her if she kept pulling this stuff on him? She made a decision, and slowly pulled up her dress. "I'm so sorry, Montague. I was awful, and I really am sorry. I promise you I won't do that again, no matter how provoked I feel I am." She offered her apology, and then bent over the table, wishing with all her heart that she hadn't lost her darn temper.

"No, Megan, you are never going to deliberately ruin a performance again." He doubled the belt in his hand, making sure the end and the buckle were tightly enclosed within his hand. He didn't wish to harm the lovely redhead, just give her a punishment that she would recall the next time she was tempted to do such a thing. He raised his arm and the belt swished through the air before landing across both of her panty clad cheeks. He could see the red welt that rose immediately on the pale skin that wasn't protected by the silk fabric. Megan cried out in pain, and he hardened himself to her cries. "Count each one, Megan," he ordered in a firm tone of voice.

Megan willed the floor to open up and swallow her, but of course, it didn't. She didn't want to count. It was too embarrassing.

"Count, Megan, or it won't count until you do." She still hesitated and he gave her another, right below the previous one. "Count!"

"Two," she gasped.

"No, that was one. I told you they didn't count until you counted them. Now say one, or we'll start again."

"One!" she repeated. She yelped when the belt welted her sit spots. No part of her panties protected her there, and the belt covered both sides at once! It was incredibly painful. "Two," she remembered to count this time, not about to prolong the punishment. Montague had no mercy on her. As soon as she counted, he gave her another stripe with his belt. "Three," she managed to say, even though it was getting more and more difficult to speak through her tears.

Montague striped her upper thighs with numbers four, five, and six, and then he started on her poor buttocks again. Three more fell there, and then he gave her the last one across her sit spots, and he made it the hardest of all.

Megan sobbed as she collapsed against the table, but she forgot to count, and he gave her yet another! "No!" she cried out. "You were done!"

"You didn't count, Megan."

"Okay... TEN!" she yelled frantically. "You are so mean!"

"Mean is deliberately messing up my show, little girl. Now pull yourself together and be downstairs in fifteen minutes. I'll go down and start setting up."

She waited until he reached the door. "Montague...?" He turned to look at her questioningly. "I really am sorry, and I won't do it again."

He nodded in acceptance. "Fifteen minutes, Megan. Don't be late."

Megan waited until the door closed and then she burst into tears of self-pity. Her bottom was blazing furiously, and it felt swollen to twice its normal size. She didn't need the aid of the full-length mirror upstairs to know that she was welted, or that she wouldn't be sitting down again today. She made herself stop crying and put cold cloths on her face to reduce the redness. Finally, when she was sure she was calm, Megan redid her makeup and redid her hair. By the time she left the suite she was fairly certain that no one could guess by looking at her that she'd been thoroughly punished. Her poor butt burned and throbbed beneath the fancy dress, and she simply wanted to get the second show over so that she could take a cold shower and then go to bed. By morning the burn would be gone and only the ache would remain.

Montague was looking at his watch when she slipped through the stage door and he smiled at her. She was right on time and not upstairs having a snit. He walked over to her and asked, "Are you alright now, honey?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I know you are," he replied, then leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You're forgiven." She smiled at him, even though tears were making her eyes shine. "Don't cry now... You look beautiful." He wanted to hold her, but he still needed to finish with the props. "Will you double check the props from the beginning of the act forward? I've still got a couple of them to reset." They worked until almost show time, and it was amazing to him that she wasn't showing any signs of distress from her stage fright. She seemed just fine and he suspected it was the pain she was trying to hide from everyone that kept her focus aimed elsewhere... namely her stinging bottom.

The second show went well, but both Montague and Megan were happy when it was over. They hurried to reset the props, knowing that they would be rehearsing with them again in the morning. Finally, it was time to go upstairs, and Megan knew that she simply needed to be alone for a while. She was in so much pain it was getting more and more difficult to hide it from others, and she was through pretending. She needed some relief and step one would be removing the gown that was holding in the heat. Step two would be taking off the panties that felt two sizes too small over her swollen bottom.

When she reached the door to the suite she couldn't wait for Montague to use his key and allow them to enter. "Change into something suitable to go out to dinner," he announced as he pushed the door open for her.

"I don't want dinner tonight, Montague. I'm going right to bed," she answered.

"You are going to dinner, Megan. Skipping meals isn't healthy. I've made a reservation, and we need to be on our way in just a few minutes."

"Montague, I don't want to go! Thank you for caring, but I don't need as much food as you do. I need sleep; I'm exhausted." She headed for the steps, only to have him reach for her arm and turn her around to face him.

"Megan, we are going to dinner. Now, change into something nice, or I am going to put you over my knee and give you a spanking for being so stubborn."

"Why are you being so mean to me, Montague? You know that I am in pain from the strapping you gave me earlier. I don't feel good right now; my butt really hurts, and I absolutely do not want to go anywhere I have to sit down... especially in public!"

"Honey, when you earn a punishment, one of the consequences is living with the sore backside until it goes away. It doesn't mean you skip dinner, or that plans are changed to accommodate you because you were punished. In short, a sore bottom doesn't earn you special privileges. Is that clear?"

"It is clear, but don't expect me to be pleasant company. I am in serious pain, and the last thing I want to do is sit down and eat!" She jerked her arm free and hurried up the steps. She wished she could lock the door against him and simply stay in, but with her luck, he would have a key and she knew for a fact that he wouldn't hesitate to spank her once again, even though she was feeling raw.

Montague went to his room, counting under his breath as he tried to rein in his temper. Megan Jeannine Marley was one very stubborn little girl, and she needed a firm hand. He felt as though she was constantly pushing and testing him, but he hated having to be so firm with her. Any one of his sisters would know better than to behave like a spoiled brat, and they wouldn't stand there and throw a fit if dinner plans were announced. They would know that whining wouldn't earn them anything but another spanking if they were disrespectful. And, if Megan thought she could be unpleasant throughout the evening, she had best think again! His mind considered the options available to him, and his father's probable method of handling Megan should she continue to pout and sulk. By the time he'd changed out of his tuxedo and dressed in regular clothes, his temper was under control. His mind was made up, too. Miss Marley would either behave or she would suffer the consequences. He wouldn't allow her to act like a spoiled brat, and he wasn't going to feel guilty for giving her the belt, either. She more than earned the strapping, and truth be told, he should have given her double what she had.

Megan was so angry at Montague that she was crying. She took off the heavy dress and hung it on the hanger and placed it in the closet. The fabric held in the heat and her poor bottom was still burning as much as it did right after Montague punished her. She also gingerly removed her panties. The elastic on the legs were cutting into her sit spots and causing unbearable pain, and there was no way she could tolerate them for another second, much less an hour or two! Oh, why did Montague make plans to go out for dinner? Did he do it to purposely make her uncomfortable? Or did he already have the plans made? If he was doing this on purpose, then he was being unbelievably cruel. Megan contemplated the clothes hanging in her wardrobe and wondered what she could wear that wouldn't make her poor bottom hurt even worse. She was in some serious pain, and she longed for some ointment of some sort that would ease the burning. The stripes were livid across her bottom, upper thighs, and her sit spots, and she felt like crying at the thought of any clothing covering her. She finally settled on a thong that left her buttocks bare, and a soft, silky, flowing skirt that wouldn't hold in heat. It was full cut, and hopefully there wouldn't be much wind blowing, or she could be very embarrassed if her skirt blew up around her head!

She grabbed a light prayer shawl in case it was cooler outside than she expected it to be, and then picked up her handbag and went downstairs. Montague was waiting for her already, his toe tapping impatiently. She suddenly felt confrontational. "I have just one question, Mr. Montague the Sixth... Did you make this reservation before or after you used your belt on me?"

Montague blinked, shocked by her question. "Just what are you asking, Miss Marley?"

"I want to know if you are taking me out because you want me to suffer even more... Did you plan this before or after you strapped me?"

"I planned it before, Megan. I wanted to arrange a nice surprise for you, and several people have gone to a lot of work to make the evening special, and I am not going to allow you to take that attitude with you. You are this close," he held his thumb and forefinger a scant inch apart, "to getting your backside spanked again."

"I am sure that will make me feel a whole lot better about going and having to sit for so long!" She looked at him, tears in her eyes. "If we must do this, then let's go and get it over with. I really am tired, Montague."

"You are not tired, Megan. You are sulking and pouting and behaving like a spoiled child who isn't getting her way. One more sarcastic comment is going to cost you." He marched her to the door and they rode the elevator down to the garage level. The attendants had his car waiting, and Montague opened the door for her and she had no choice but to sit on the leather seat. It was even worse than she'd anticipated, but when she tried to get out of the car Montague blocked her, leaned down and whispered, "You sit still."

Megan felt like crying as he reached across her with her seatbelt and fastened it. She was positive the parking garage attendants thought he was being careful with his love, but she knew he was fastening the belt so he could get the door shut and locked before she jumped out! Sitting without bursting into tears was difficult but Megan wasn't about to give Montague the satisfaction of seeing any emotion from her. He seemed to think that she was pouting and sulking earlier when she wasn't; now he would experience the real thing. He might be able to force her to come to dinner, but he certainly couldn't force her to be a pleasant companion, and as long as her bottom hurt this badly, he didn't need to expect better from her. She might have deserved the punishment he gave her, but she didn't deserve this!

Montague glanced over at Megan's rigid form and shook his head. The redhead was throwing a full-fledged tantrum over going to dinner! He knew she had to be sore, but this was taking things too damned far. "Megan, I want you to open those ears of yours and hear me out. This evening is important to a friend of mine. He just opened this restaurant two months ago, and he is eager for me to come and try the food. I've told him about you, honey, and he wants to meet you. He got married right out of college and has been on me to find a good woman and settle down. Ralph is all about family, Meggie. And, the man can cook like you wouldn't believe. Please don't ruin this evening for him... or for me. I would have told you about the plans, but Ralph called me while you were upstairs getting dressed, and in between shows we were obviously otherwise occupied. It isn't Ralph's or Sophie's fault that you have a sore bottom tonight, so don't take it out on them. It wouldn't be fair, and I know you are too gracious to do that." Megan didn't let on that she even heard him and Montague pulled into an empty parking lot and shut off the vehicle.