Michelle wiped the sweat from her meticulously groomed brow. She had been lugging boxes from the dock for the last three hours and her lean body was crying for a rest. She carried the neatly labeled box of "pots and pans" into the cabin's kitchen and dropped it onto a rustic table. Why in the world had she thought she'd need all this stuff? When Stephanie and Alicia left in a couple of weeks, she'd only have herself to feed. Her soon to be ex-husband, Brad, would have enjoyed upbraiding her for this excess if he could see her now. Thankfully, his scrutiny was now a thing of the past.
The fact that she was in possession of his personal cabin gave Michelle a special measure of satisfaction. It had been Brad's personal retreat, a place where he had entertained his clients, employees and who knows who else. This was the first time she had ever seen this place because Brad had never invited her to his "man cave". She had suspected, but could never prove, that he had brought other women here, but he had covered his tracks very effectively. Two private detectives had not been able to find any solid evidence, but she was still not convinced.
If she had needed to rely on detectives she'd still be living with Brad. That had all changed on that awful day when she had walked into his office. He had locked the door and said that he was tired of waiting for her to "stop being a frigid bitch". He announced that she was going to allow him to make use of her "hot little ass" that very morning. She was so startled by his rude statement that he had been able to bend her over his desk, hike up her skirt, rip off a pair of expensive panties, and smack her shamefully bare bottom before she could scream loud enough to summon help. The insistent pounding on his office door had given her enough time to cover her nakedness and flee red-faced and breathless from the grinning security guards.
Brad had followed her home. He had offered no apology for his behavior. Instead, he had tossed her ruined panties onto their king-size bed and made an infuriating proclamation. "Your ass is going to stay bare until you start letting me make use of it."
"You've lost your mind," she had screamed. "I have no intention of staying naked for you or anyone else."
"There are no guards to save you here," he'd screamed. His big hands had grabbed the hem of her designer dress and jerked it right over her head. The madman had left her in nothing but a bra, garter belt and thigh-high nylons.
"Stop it!" she had screamed as her hands had flown to cover her crotch.
He had shown no mercy. Her bra was gone in a flash. She had been thrown over his lap. Without preamble, he had begun to spank her like some naughty child. "If you ever dare to make a scene in my office like that again, I'll take my belt to you right on the spot. Then everybody can get a good look at what you've been saving."
A dozen brutal slaps from his hard hand had reddened her bottom. The sound of Alicia arriving for work was all that had stopped the brutal assault. Brad stormed out of the house. Mercifully, Michelle had enough time to throw on a robe before Alicia could walk upstairs. Michelle had packed a bag and not returned until a court order and a visit from the locksmith had banned Brad from her former dream home. It had been the most humiliating day of her life. No apology, gift, or other penance would ever win her back. The memory of that terrible day was so upsetting, that she could hardly breathe whenever she recalled it. Her heart would race whenever she recalled him stripping and spanking her.
Oh well, no need to dwell on unpleasant thoughts. Their divorce would be final in the fall and this would be her home for the summer. If she didn't learn to like it, she'd sell. The cabin occupied ten acres, two-thirds of a private island on the northern shore of Lake Huron. It would pull down hund