The Spinster's Exploits

I was enjoying some Doctor Who specials last night and was very amused at the regenerated Mr Tennant’s delight at his footwear, which he described as “daps”. This is a dialect word I know to be common in South Wales and the West Country – and the word I know for plimsolls. I thought it a nice nod to the fact he was filming in South Wales and reminded me of one of my short stories that featured said footwear.

It’s a situation arising from a dodgy human sale for charity – in my defence – these used to be quite common, and this one features very posh politically incorrect non-woke toffs!

The dap – An extract

“Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind?”

Silence.

“I admit I’ve behaved badly. I’d like to make it up to you and I’d like you to pay the agreed sum to the charity.”

And still silence

“Spike! What else can I do?”

And of course she knew. And Spike knew that she did.

“What do you think, Isobel?”

“Tell me what I can do to make amends that will ensure that you pay the charity the agreed amount.”

And so Spike told her.

“As you so rightly deduced I have a favoured method of dealing with bad behaviour. You, Isobel, were late, unapologetic, sneering and surly. I agree there was some provocation for the slap, but I simply told you the unpalatable truth about yourself and my decision. It was inexcusable but I believe in appropriate punishment and pardon. If you agree to make amends I’ll pay up and say no more about your behaviour.”

Isobel realised that despite her rage against him and her darkest suspicions he had not made a move she could honestly challenge. Against her desire to see him as a scoundrel her instincts told her he was a man of his word – and a smug, self-righteous bastard!

Hands on hips and breathing deeply, a defiant black-clad and booted Isobel faced her nemesis. “What is my punishment?”

The handsome young man faced the impossibly vibrant and sexy maid of his dreams and imagined the delights of lifting her skirts and lowering her knickers.

“I shall take a dap to you for your lateness, beat you for your lack of apology and for your surliness and spank you further for the slap.”

Isobel trembled in horror but how could she be surprised? What else could she have expected? She knew she had foolishly put herself into his power. The thought of Spike doing those things to her filled her with dread. Somewhere, though, she knew he wanted her and was too proud to admit it. The power was not all his. In her humiliation she could still deny him. She wondered about his intentions towards her skirts and silk knickers. She knew instinctively that she would be denied the protection of her skirt and layered petticoats. She wondered if he’d dared take down her knickers… She was tempted to negotiate for their continued protection but that would mean discussing them with him…

Isobel realised the absurdity of risking having her knickers lowered rather than discussing them with Spike but her illogical pride denied her the possibility of such plea-bargaining. And what fiendish device was a ‘dap’? And how would he beat her? Or spank her? What had she let herself in for? She knew she could walk out.

She was unwilling to risk his negative report on her ‘services’, she told herself as despite her anger and contempt she again felt instinctively that the smug, smiling toad was actually a man of his word. And that smug, speculative smile of his! Of course it wasn’t sexy! She found younger men crude and uncouth. It was a challenge! How dare the whippersnapper! He thought she was afraid of him and his silly bargain? She’d show him! Breeding would out!

“Very well, then, ‘Spike’,” – drawled and delivered hands on hips, fully aware of her long booted, nylon-clad legs, the rise and fall of her provocative breasts and the second skin of her bodice. Only Isobel could put such a sneer and question into a man’s name. Her attitude might get her beaten harder but she’d be damned if she’d let him intimidate her! – “How do you want me?”

And they both knew that he longed to spank her and fuck her and had done so from the moment he first set eyes on her. In his own way, Spike was as cool as Isobel. He knew he’d earned the right to spank this impossible, provocative woman but only with her agreement and that would be enough. Like Isobel he wasn’t into begging. If she chose to walk out – fine – a pity and a waste – but fine.

“Id like you to stand in front of the workbench, quietly and politely while I fetch the dap. Thank you”

Again, Isobel performed her long-legged laid-back swagger to the bench; now clear of Spike’s neatly sorted pictures and paraphernalia. She leaned nonchalantly against the sturdy table, smiled and raised her eyebrows as Spike grinned back; then equally casually sauntered out of the room…

Oh, hell! What was a fucking dap when it was at home? Now that Spike was out of the room Isobel’s smile felt like a death rictus as she fearfully contemplated her unknown in detail, but otherwise sealed fate. She was glad of the table behind her as her legs went weak and she leaned her bottom against the comfort of the wood, safe in its protection at least until Spike’s return.

His casual but suspiciously speedy return was greeted by an apparently relaxed and slightly bored Isobel nonchalantly leaning against the workbench where he’d left her. He was not fooled. The slight tremble to her lip and the flush of her gorgeously restricted but displayed breasts denoted excitement or fear. He was happy to take either or both. He was amused by her double take at the old-fashioned black plimsoll in his hand.

“What were you expecting?” he asked unable and unwilling to hide his amusement. Didn’t you know I had a Welsh upbringing? This, sweet Isobel, is a dap. I thought you lived in Wales…Obviously impervious to the local culture up at the Grange…. It was used on naughty children in Welsh schools when you were a girl. This is your chance to test its efficacy, sweetheart.”

How dare he! The nerve of the man! Isobel’s fury at his familiarity mingled with relief as she viewed the ‘dap’. After years of horse riding, she wasn’t scared of that thing! As her smile bid him to do his worst her relief was short-lived as she realised that he would be getting a very undignified view of her while ‘doing his worst’. The reality sunk in at his words.