Randolph's Foolish Affair
Randolph felt foolish. Here he had begun what was to be a week of solitude and escapism and he had run out of gas. Randolph shuffled through the woods towards the lake hoping to find a house or cabin with a gallon to spare. As he walked he cursed himself for turning off the main road toward the lake. Perhaps it was that he worked with people all day as a broker and he needed solitude. Although he was highly successful his job was getting to him. It was no surprise that his supervisor had advised him to "take a week".
Randolph (no one called him Randy) had pondered many vacation scenarios as options, but the mountains were the most alluring. He needed inner reflection and it was cheap. Randolph's lack of generosity not only with money, but friends, girlfriends and especially himself was the least of his problems.
Suddenly from in between two tall trees he saw smoke. A light jog later led him to a large cabin tucked not too far back from the lake. He suspected that from the lake you probably could not see it and decided that someone rich must live there. As he approached the cabin's door he realized it was more like a house. It had a balcony and full garage and even a large second story. He quickly knocked on the door. His years as a broker had made him fearless and foolish. He heard movement inside and thanked God that someone was home. (Although, the thought of a little B and E did cross his mind). Just before the door opened he quickly turned to confirm his suspicions- no lake.
The door opened and Randolph zoomed around to suddenly find himself in a Penthouse letter. The woman smiling at him was beautiful! She seemed to be a little older than Randolph, who was forty- three, but you would never know it. She had red curly hair and seemed to be in good shape. She was dressed in a shorts and sweatshirt combination.
"Yes? You're not selling anything are you 'cause if you are you have a lousy territory"
"No, I ran out of gas and I was hoping to borrow some or buy some..."Randolph trailed off.
" Oooh, I'm sorry. Where are you parked?" She inquired.
"Not far." He answered.
"Well, my daughter has the car, but she'll be back around two. You're welcome to come in and wait. When she gets back I can take you to the station."
Even though she was inviting Randolph did not want to be stuck here all day.
"Oh, why don't I call the station and they can come and bring me some gas" Randolph said.
"I don't have a phone, not even a cell phone, they're too distracting- I work out here." She gestured toward her sweatshirt and Randolph noticed the paint.
"Besides the station is only about twenty-miles away, you couldn't walk there but it won't be long and I could do with a break." she continued.
"You're a painter?" Randolph asked.
"Yes, can we continue this inside? It's a little cold out here"
They moved inside and began to pass the time chit-chatting about her paintings the few galleries she had exhibited and the work a day world. She had been in real estate in New York and had gotten fed up. She had always enjoyed painting and when an owner needed a show she delivered. The rest is history. She certainly is not famous but she beleived her next series would make her so, if she could find the right subject. After a while, Randolph felt very comfortable.
While she was making coffee he glanced outside and was grateful for the shelter and the company. He could see the wind whipping up moving the tall pines.
"Would you like a tour?" she asked.
"Yeah, it's a great cabin or house, whatever you call it." Randolph stumbled.
"Studio" she said pretentiously and laughed. "It was my grandfather's and he left to me. He built it in the thirties with his own two hands."
"Well, it's wonderful and certainly isn't like any cabin I've ever been in. Most of them are so provincial and boxy. This is more like a large house." Randolph said.
As they moved through the house Randolph noticed the prevelant use of African masks and rather tribal decor.
"Was your grandfather a collector?" Randolph asked. " I see quite a few antiques"
" You're very observant Mr. Collins" She smiled. "My grandfather actually raised me and told me the most outlandish stories...he used to be a writer for National Geographic and other magazines. He really enjoyed the off beat and strange cultures" she explained.
"That would explain all the masks" Randolph chuckled. "So you know what all this stuff is worth?" Randolph quizzed.
"Oh, most of it, some of it is quite priceless." She said.
"What's this? Is this worth anything?" He smiled pointing a dark wooden board hanging in a hand-made wooden frame with no glass.
"I don't know but my grandfather used to tell me it had magical powers." She said.
"You're kidding?" Randolph laughed looking closer at the board.
"No, grandfather was quite serious about this, he said it came from the Takir tribe in Central Africa. They used it as a way to control the tribe's lawbreakers. It was away for the tribe's elders to keep the tribe strong without banishing the lawbreakers. Whatever that meant." She stated.
" I thought you said it was magical?"
" It is. Grandfather said he used it once out of curiosity, but that it was evil and never to use it. I just thought it was one of his stories. I think he told me that because he caught me playing with it once. So, I keep it as momento."
"Well, after looking at it I can only imagine, how they used it." Randolph said as they both blushed. They moved down the hallway and back down the stairs to the main floor.
"Would you like some more coffee?"
As Randolph was about to answer when a car horn honked.
"Whoops, that's my daughter." She walked over and opened the door and waved.
" You know what? I need to go into town anyway and pick up a few things, no sense in both of us freezing, why don't you just stay here and I'll be back in an hour. Then I can take you back to your car. I'll pick up a gas can and there you go." She explained.
"Well..." Randolph began.
" I'll tell you what I'll even make you dinner. I make a mean lasagne." She coaxed.
" I really...should be... going. " Randolph said slowly.
" Look, I really like you and I don't get to spend a lot of time with people and I 've really enjoyed talking with you; besides I have a spare bedroom you could even stay the night. These mountain roads are a little difficult, especially at night. Then wake up fresh and start out in the morning."
Randolph sighed "Alright, I'll buy, I'll buy! Thank you. Dinner sounds great and I am a little tired. I'll stay."
"Good" she smiled as pulled on her sweats and coat. "Who knows? You may not want to leave in the morning." She smiled broadly as she bounced out the door.
Randolph's head was still swimming with possibilities when a moment later the front door opened and slammed shut. Randolph almost fell over. Standing before him was a goddess! She was almost a twin of her mother. She seemed, however, to have gotten all the good parts and she was younger! He guessed around twenty-eight.
Randolph felt a numbness in the back of his legs. She was, in essence, a physical embodiment of every fantasy Randolph had about women. She had been there, in his mind, when he had stumbled through puberty, his awkward teens and finally into young adulthood. Now, as he approached middle-age she seemed even more unattainable. Except now she was real and he was alone with her! He studied her closely searching for a mistake or flaw to help put him off.
She had red hair like her mother but with a bit more blond and longer. She was about the same height as her mother but the boots she wore created a statuesque appearance. She was dressed in a short business skirt and a crisp white blouse. Her breasts were large but porportionate, probably about a 36C. Her thighs were toned and her skin was smooth and slightly tanned. It was also obvious that she kept herself in shape. However, the most remarkable feature was her face. She had a glow. People often talk about women having "it" , he know knew what that meant. He could not take his eyes off of her!
He followed every move of her graceful body. First, she slowly removed her coat and tossed it on a nearby chair. She then slowly unzipped her boots placing one hand on the door for support. As she performed her quiet and minimal strip-tease she silently looked him over. Dropping the second boot to the floor broke the silence and Randolph's trance.
"Whew! Feels good to get those off. Hi, I'm Heather, Sandra's daughter." she said.
Randolph cleared his throat.
"I'm Randolph." he pushed out.
She put out her hand and they shook. Randolph began to pull back from the shake but there was a hesitation on her part. Randolph was suddenly self conscious. If this had been a club or a party or even his private office he would have acted on such an obvious signal. Randolph saw every move a woman made as signals. He was constantly analyzing and sizing them up. However, now he felt strange. First, Sandra would be back in about an hour and there was no time. Second, he also knew how it would look to his benefactor if he made a pass at her daughter. His lustful conflicts bounced in and out of his mind as Heather once again broke his confusion.
"I hope Sandra didn't bore you too much. She can go on about art." Heather smiled again
"Oh no" Randolph stated convincingly not wanting to seem ungrateful. " We only talked about art a little, mainly she talked about her grandfather."
"Ooohh, then you were really bored. She loved grandad, a lot!" She swung her way into the kitchen. "Any more coffee? She told me what happened, with your car, I mean" She continued finding the coffee and pouring a cup.
"You want some?" she cooed leaning back against the counter rocking back and forth.
The next few moments were a swirling contradiction in Randolph's mind but an overload of physical sensations as the two danced around the inevitable. She teased, he retreated, she thrusted, he parried. Finally, Randolph gave up and gave in. Heather assured him that her mother was notorious for taking three hours when she said one.
Later, half dressed and half drunk, Randolph and Heather wrestled with each other on the couch. The fireplaced glowed and cast long shadows on the darkened room. A half bottle of wine sat on the coffee table and the snow was gently falling outside. It was picturesque.
Randolph passionately kissed around the top of Heather's still encased breasts. They were practically spilling out of her bra. Heather was laying back enjoying the attention. She relished these moments of intimate power. Suddenly and abruptly she stood up almost taking Randolph to the floor.
"What's wrong?" Randolph panicked fearing she had tired of him already.
"Go sit in that chair and wait." She said breathily. She pointed across the room the large wooden chair where her coat had landed.
Randolph quickly scuttled to the chair obediantly and sat down and smiled. Heather turned around and slightly pushed out her bottom and slid off her skirt allowing it to fall to the floor. She stepped out of it and swayed her way up the stairs. Randolph could hardly contain himself as he watch his goddess clothed only in her bra and panties disappear down the hallway.
Hearing the click of her heels on the hardwood flooring Randolph snapped his attention to the top of the stairs. His control was given a jolt again as Heather appeared in a white short sleeve blouse and short plaid skirt. She was the perfect embodiment of a fantasy schoolgirl. In her hand was a small paddle. She moved quickly up to Randolph and bent over and whispered in his ear.
" I want you to spank me" She cooed. " Spank me like a bad little girl".
Heather handed the paddle to Randolph and slowly eased her hips and body over his knees. She quietly adjusted herself and pushed her palms against the floor.
The lack of verbal communication and the fire being the only source of light gave the entire scene a surreal, dreamlike feeling.
Heather was perfectly positioned and when Randolph slowly pulled up her skirt revealing her cotton panties, she sighed heavily. Although inexperienced in this particular kink he was aware that he should take it slow. As he raised the paddle she stopped him " Warm me up with your hand and don't forget to hold me down."
Randolph put the paddle down and wrapped his left arm around her waist. The paradox of her sexuality mixed with her schoolgirl innocence was taking its toll on Randolph. He greedily gazed down along her long smooth, toned legs and then to her tight buns.
"Come on, hard!" she sighed. Randolph began lightly spanking her. Then, at her insistence, he began peppering her cheeks left and right. Before long her bottom turned light pink then deep pink. Randolph stopped to rest his hand the color of which almost matched her bottom.
Heather was close to the brink and reached back and pulled at the waistband of her panties all the while pushing her butt slightly into the air. Randolph quickly took the hint and pulled them down to her knees.
"Nooo!" Heather cried. " No more, not on my bare bottom!" she pleaded.
Randolph picked up on the role playing and began his best impersonation of a stern disciplinarian.
"No you've been a naughty girl and you must be spanked!" he played on. "On the bare bottom, to teach you a lesson."
Randolph then spanked her again while Heather's moans and writhing became more and more noticable. Again Randolph's hand began to hurt. Fearing she would loose the moment he picked up the paddle. Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
Heathers's whole body began to tingle and she moved around on Randolph's lap.
Whack! Whack! Randolph was taking his time allowing each swat to sink in. Whack! Whack!
Again Heather's whole body tingled and she moved to adjust her bra and skirt both of which were very loose. As she cupped one of her breasts, which she often did in this scenario, it felt strange to her. She massaged her breast again, a feeling which sent waves of pleasure through her entire body all the way to the tip of her toes. Her breast felt as though she was pushing it back into her chest. This was certainly a new sensation. Heather welcomed the hallucination openly and moaned her satisfaction aloud.
"Oh, yes!" she sighed again and again.
Randolph noticed that her bottom seemed to be tightening. She also had moved up her position on his legs; she had probably shifted when he reached for the paddle. Whack! Whack! Whack!
Perhaps it was a trick of the fire but she seemed smaller on his lap. Heather was lost in her own sexual gyrations to notice her panties and shoes had fallen to the floor. Her panties had lost their grip around her knees growing looser and looser with each swat of the paddle.
Randolph landed two more spanks. Whack! Whack! Randolph now paused and looked down at Heather and realized that she looked even more like a little girl. Perhaps it was the wine, but in his eyes he saw her as fifteen year old girl. Even her skirt seemed too big on her. She also seemed lighter and as she ground and bucked her hips into his thigh Randolph found that he could quite easily wrap his entire arm around her waist. He did so and pulled her tight against him.
Meanwhile, Heather had reached back periodically to rub her warm bottom. A result which she thoroughly enjoyed. At first, she felt how toned it had become, but after a few more spanks it began to feel tighter losing its womanly bounce and curve. Again, in order to pleasure herself she cupped her now 34B breasts through the loose material of her bra. However, as Randolph continued spanking her she could almost sense that they were retreating further into her chest. They were beginning to feel as they did when she was in high school, barely pushing into her now large bra. She also had the sensation that her skirt was hanging off of her! Randolph landed a few more. Heather's body was now oddly tingling all over! Again, she reached back to rub her hot bottom and found that she could cover one cheek with her entire hand! She moved her hand back and forth feeling the now small and boyish bottom.
"No, no." Randolph admonished as he gripped her arm and delivered the thirteenth spank with the paddle.
Panicked, Heather pushed forward toward the floor to balance herself and found that she could not reach. A moment ago, she was pressing her palms into the hardwood floor! She assumed she had shifted her position but her feet were now dangling of off Randolph's knees. She wasn't touching on either side! Heather quickly moved to her now ridiculously oversized bra and felt her two bumps!
"No, Randolph stop!" she screamed.
Randolph, caught up in the moment of role-playing quickly dismissed the cries of his "little-girl". He knew sex was just around the corner and decided to finish this charade with a dramatic flair.
"No. No. No. You've been bad and you must be punished."
" Randolph, something's wrong" she said but not before Randolph swiftly landed a set of spanks!
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
Heather's small body bucked and fought to escape Randolph's grip but he was too strong! She moved her free hand to her chest again and then in a panic to her privates. They were fuzzy then swiftly smooth and bare. Heather screamed noticing as she did her voice changed in pitch "No! Stop!" Now she was sounding like a little girl!
Exhausted, Randolph released his grip and dropped his paddle hand to his side. Heather jumped off of his lap rubbing her bottom as her plaid skirt fell to the floor. As she stood there naked the irony of her previous teasing striptease now seemed ridiculous in her mind. The full metamorphosis hit home when her feet hit the floor. She was eye level with his chest, she had to look up to see his face and he was sitting down!
Certainly, Randolph's face was something to see. He sat stunned staring at a naked seven year old girl standing in a pool of her own skirt. The same beautiful skirt he had lifted to reveal her beautiful behind. Moments before, she had been a goddess for whom he would have ruined his life! His mind was grasping for reality.
"What the hell did you do to me" Heather chirped. She was embarassed by her voice but demanded answers.
"Nothing! I don't know what happened, but you got younger, how?!." Randolph stammered.
The next few moments were ones of harsh words and discovery. Heather was again a seven year old girl. Randolph felt fine. Heather now sat in a large robe on the couch and cried.
After the emotions of the moment passed they began to reason. They struggled but no explanation was plausible. Could they reverse it? Would she have to grow up all over again? Heather cried some more.
How could she return to her office? Randolph did his best to comfort her, but he found the situation extremely uncomfortable. Here was a woman, NO- girl, that an hour ago he had yearned to make passionate lustful love. Now, she was sexless, her beautiful breasts- flat, her athletically trimmed, toned body -weak and small. She barely came up to his chest and he found, by accident, he could lift her easily onto the couch. Her long legs and soft bottom were gone with all of her other womanly curves and charms. She was also bare -all over. This would be a turn on if she were of age, but as a child-NO!
"It has to be something in the house, my mother was always telling me these crazy stories..."she trailed off. Heather reached for a half drunk glass of wine and began to drink.
"Uh, do you really think that's, uh, good idea?" Randolph said.
"F***- Off!, after what I've been through?" Heather shot back and downed the wine.
Randolph sat silently pondering in his chair.
Suddenly, the front door blew open as Sandra shivered into the room.
"Sorry, I took so long but it started snowing and..." She stopped.
She stood. She stared. She studied.
"Alright, what's been going on here?"she asked.
Heather jumped up first "Mommy, I mean Sandra, we were sort of fooling around and look what he did to me! I' m little again. What am I going to do?"
"Well, I think it's very appropriate for you at the moment, being a little girl again. You obviously can't be trusted and perhaps this is your punishment." Sandra stated coldly.
Randolph sat completely still transfixed by this comical exchange and the immediate command of Heather's mother. She seemed completely unphased by this weird turn of events.
"But I don't want to be little!, I don't, I don't!" Heather continued seeming more and more like the girl of seven she had become.
Sandra bent over lifted her daughter's robe and popped her bottom swiftly. "Quiet!"
Heather stopped and silently moved to the side of the couch, sniffling.
Sandra now turned to Randolph "What were you doing?" She asked slowly.
Randolph gulped and pondered the moment. Truth was, in the face of this weirdness, his only defense.
Randolph slowly described the events and attempted to gloss over the sexuality. He tried to spare Sandra's feelings realizing he was originally there for her. He imagined that this had possibly happened before and perhaps she did not see it as entirely his fault. Sandra listened patiently until the end.
Sandra paused then turned to her daughter "It was the paddle. You got it off the wall, didn't you?" she asked.
Heather meekly nodded her head yes.
"You were telling me about that, that was true? Those stories?" Randolph interupted.
"Yes, but it's not entirely your fault, I've warned Heather several times not to play around with these relics. Right?"
Heather nodded again.
"How many times did you spank her with the paddle?" Sandra inquired.
" I don't know, maybe twenty, twenty-one times?" Randolph guessed.
"One year, for each swat. That makes sense." Sandra turned and bent down to her daughter's face. "Well my darling little girl, you can have a new and more disciplined start in life from age seven or we can try to fix this. Or we can take you back a little further and really give you a fresh start. How does that sound?
"Nooooo!" Heather cried.
"You can fix this? I mean, you know how?" Randolph asked.
Sandra turned back around and stared coldly into Randolph's eyes.
"Yes, but I don't think you'll like it" she said as a wicked smile crept over her face.
End of part One
To Be Continued