The Trials of Spring
It was the first day of spring and she’d had enough of being indoors. The weather had finally turned and she decided upon a stroll about her garden. Everything was in bloom and it made her heart sing to smell the delicate fragrance of honeysuckle and see the bees flitting from flower to flower.
The beauty of the surrounds made it all the more distressing when she happened upon her gardener on his knees, weeding the flower beds, completely nude.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her voice rising more than she meant to.
The wretched man didn’t bat an eyelid, just stood up, turned to face her and grinned.
“Oh, just finishing the weeding. Hoped to have it all done before you ventured outdoors. But, well, here you are.”
“Yes, here I am. You have nothing on you know,” she blurted out.
“I’m aware of that. Is that a problem?”
“Yes, actually, it is.”
“Why? It was clearly stated in my contract.”
“Your what?” she asked incredulously.
“My contract, it ‘s a document that sets out the…”
“I know what a contract is,” she snapped, pushing her spectacles back to the bridge of her nose.
“Well mine states I will garden nude. It’s not my problem if you didn’t read it properly,” he said with a decisive nod.
It was about this time that she noticed a decidedly mischievous twinkle in the man’s eye and took a different tack.
“A contract you say. Hmmm, I have standing terms and conditions for any contractors that work on my estate, would you like to hear them?”
“I suppose they only apply to nude gardeners.”
“But of course,” she smirked.
“Why don’t I tell you what your terms and conditions are?”
She thought about that for a moment and nodded for him to continue, wondering just where it might go.
“I would think they include some sort of punishment,” says the man and then looks around. “You might make him bend over that bird bath there and give him twenty good strokes with that pretty leather belt you’re wearing.”
She looked down at the belt and then back at him as a slow smile spread across her face. “Well done, I see you did read them. Best get comfy then.”
She had him lie across the bird bath, undid her belt and drew it through the loops. Placing a hand on his back to steady him she raised her right arm and let fly with the belt. As it cracked across both cheeks she said, “next time, I hope you remember to bring your clothes.”
“Next time, I hope you remember to bring your paddle,” was his reply which caused him to get quite a few more than twenty good strokes.
So it came to pass that the Lady and the Gardener found an enjoyable way to celebrate the first day of spring.