From Blushes 32
Going to stand in front of him. Mr Grately was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. Glancing at a book. He looked up.
‘Miss Simpkins. Oh yes. Miss Simpkins. The girl with the glasses. I’ve had very bad reports, Miss Simpkins. Terrible unpunctuality. Work at times sloppy. All kinds of things. Miss Simpkins needs a good kick in the bottom someone said.’ Mr Grately smiled. ‘What d’you think of that, Miss Simpkins. Take your dress off, Miss Simpkins.’
Mr Grately was on his feet. A bulky man. ‘No looks, Miss Simpkins. Take your dress off.’
All at once she was shaking. She had been told about Mr Grately but had thought they were joking. He wasn’t her boss he was Personnel. Her own boss, Mr Sotherby, was quite easy-going. Well he had seemed easy-going, not saying anything. Mr Grately…
He was close. His eyes scary behind his dark-rimmed glasses. ‘Did you hear me, Miss Simpkins. Take your dress off.’
She tried to laugh. Mr Grately just grabbed her. She yelled out. His hands at her dress. Pulling the buttons open down the front. Yanking the belt open. She was too shocked to properly struggle. Not that it would anyway have done a lot of good. Mr Grately was big and strong. Pulling the dress off her shoulders. And right off. Then he was at her waist slip. Dragging that down too.
Gasping with shock. Speechless almost. ‘You… you…’
‘That’s better, Miss Simpkins. And next time I tell you to take your dress off you do it yourself, eh? Now stand up straight.’
Her hands were trying to cover herself. Her bare body, her undies. Lacy bra and matching lacy suspender belt fastening her tan nylons. White knickers. With her white high heels that was all. ‘G…give me my dress.’
Mr Grately slapped her face. ‘I say what happens here, Miss Simpkins. Stand up straight.’
One hand had gone to her smarting cheek. She brought it down. Mr Grately… He couldn’t… You’d better watch out for Mr Grately, a girl had said. Anne had only laughed.
‘That’s better. Now stand there and think about the errors of your ways, Miss Simpkins.’
He had thrown her dress and slip in the corner of the room and was going back to his chair. He glanced up.
‘Stand up straight, Miss Simpkins. Or do you want me to send you out into the main office stark naked?’
He couldn’t. Mr Grately was a madman. But she stood up straight. He was looking through the book. ‘Look at all these late arrivals. Christ!’
Mr Sotherby hadn’t really said anything. She tried to get in on time. No one said…
‘Turn round, Miss Simpkins. Let me see your bum. I’m going to give it a good tanning in a moment.’
He couldn’t… act like this. She would just go and get her dress. ‘Turn round!’ she turned.
‘That’s better. And next time you do it when I say so, Miss Simpkins. Yes, you’ve a nice bum on you. We’ll see how it enjoys a good walloping. Turn round again.’
She stumbled round. He wasn’t going to… do that. He couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. She held her breath. Mr Grately was getting to his feet again.
‘Eh Miss Simpkins?’ Up close once more. His face close. ‘That’s what a girl like you needs. She really needs it in front of the whole office, mmmm?’ His face was so close his glasses were almost touching hers.
‘Let’s have you with your arms up, Miss Simpkins. Up here.’ He was lifting her wrists. Above her head. ‘Hold onto that.’ The top of the door frame. ‘And don’t you dare let go, my girl.’
Mr Grately went back to his chair. That book again. ‘Yes, Miss Simpkins, you really are about the worst specimen we’ve had here. So we’ll certainly have to teach you a lesson.’
Her arms were beginning to ache. There would be no one else in the building now, they would all have gone home, except perhaps a cleaner or two. So it would be no good shouting for help. In any case it would be too humiliating to be seen like this.
‘Please… Mr Grately…’ She would have to be humble, in spite of that dreadful smack across her face. ‘I won’t… I’ll do better…’ In spite of his ripping off her dress. ‘I won’t be late…’
‘You won’t be late, Miss Simpkins?’ He was close again. ‘No, you won’t be late after I’ve finished with you.’ What…? He had turned her. He was behind her. His hands. At her bra strap. ‘NO…’
It was undone. He was pulling her bra up, off of her boobs. ‘Keep your hands up, Miss Simpkins.’ Lifting her bra right up and hanging it over her raised wrists. ‘No…’
‘Nooo… oooo…’ His hands cupping her bare tits.
‘Nice, Miss Simpkins. Quite a nice pair, eh? Now…’ The hands let go and he was bending. His hands at her knickers. ‘No!’ But he was sliding them down. ‘Don’t you dare move, Miss Simpkins.’ Right down. To her knees.
An urgent need to grab her knickers up, and cover her bare tits. But Mr Grately… He really scared her. He would slap her again. She blinked. Oh Christ. She was going to cry.
He was sitting down again. Her arms were really hurting now. How had she let him do all this? She should just… Tell him she was going to report him?
‘I…I’m going… going to report you for this.’
Mr Grately jumping to his feet. Oh Jesus Christ. ‘What, Miss Simpkins?’ His face almost touching hers. ‘You cheeky little bitch.’ His arm was round the front of her waist holding her firm. And then his other hand…
Had smacked in on her bare bottom. As hard as he could, Again. And again. Her mouth was open, yelling.
Mr Grately’s face close to her ear. ’What I should really do, Miss Simpkins. Is give you a good screwing. Eh?’ The hand round her waist slid down. It cupped her between her legs. ‘Yes. What d’you think?’