By Anthony Vallance from Februs 3
Felicity arrived promptly at three that afternoon, just as had been agreed previously. She was good like that, Clive could not fault her there. In many ways she had been the perfect secretary: attentive, hard-working, punctual, very good at her job in every conceivable way. Damn it, she’d even had the right degree of sexiness, and she knew how to charm clients, that too could not be denied. Perhaps that should have been a clue, the fact that she was so perfect in every respect…
‘I hope I’m not late,’ she remarked with a smile when he opened the door to her. She knew she wasn’t late and was making a point of it, but he could forgive her the small conceits.
‘No, you’re right on time, as usual,’ he said, making way for her. She was wearing a smart business suit of short skirt, white blouse and matching jacket. The eye was drawn naturally towards her, to her long silky smooth legs, the pale tan of her flesh contrasting to the darkness of her clothes. She liked to look good, that was obvious and as always she had done a perfect job.
He showed her the way through the house and up the stairs to his office, aware of the way she was looking round with unconcealed interest. It was the first time she’d been to the house, and of course she was curious to see her employer’s house. The office was the largest room in the house, on the first floor overlooking the garden, and beyond that the woods. Though functional it was a bit more relaxed than his other office, though it was still a working office and not a den for him to hide away in.
‘There’s lots of room,’ she said, going straight over to the window to look out across the way.
‘I get a lot done here,’ he explained, trying to carry on a conversation he hadn’t planned on.
‘There are no distractions here, I suppose,’ she said, turning from the window and flashing him a smile. Her long blonde hair caught the light, golden curls cascading over her shoulders, lighting up her eyes and face.
‘Yes, very few interruptions,’ he agreed woodenly. ‘Would you like a coffee before we start?’
‘Love one, thanks,’ she agreed.
‘Make yourself comfortable then,’ he suggested, pointing to the computer at his desk.
‘Do you want me to make it?’ she offered helpfully. ‘If you let me know where the kitchen is I can do it.’
‘No, it’s okay. Why don’t you get ready, I’ll only be a few minutes.’
He left her at the desk, leaning over to switch the computer on. Her short skirt revealed much of her long thighs and the way she moved, slow and sinuous, only accentuated the fact. She had never looked so beautiful, the streaming sunlight heightened it, and the severe cut of her suit added to it too.
There was no point rushing and he settled back against the counter as the aroma of fresh coffee wafted around him. It gave him to time to think, to ponder on what to do next. He was attracted to her of course, what man wouldn’t be? And her choice of outfit was designed to allure, she was sending all the right signals. Not that he needed such signals, he’d long understood what the message was. In the past she had worn skirts inches shorter than the one she was wearing now, and worn blouses that exposed the firm bulge of her breasts. Her eyes sparkled when they spoke, and she liked to lean across his desk in a manner that was painfully arousing sometimes. It was even Felicity who had suggested working together during the one weekend when his wife was away.
Carefully carrying two mugs of coffee on a tray he made his way back up the stairs, heavy footfalls and heavenly smell of fresh coffee signalling his arrival. She was at the desk, busy tapping at the keyboard. She turned and smiled to him, her jacket was draped neatly over the back of the chair, and she was perched on the very edge of the seat. Her legs were crossed over, sharp high heels glossy black in the sunlight, skirt pulled back an inch more to reveal long, lithe thighs that were all the more attractive because they were bare. Her white blouse was unbuttoned, the lacy whiteness of her bra almost visible.
‘That smells good,’ she exclaimed, reaching out to take the cup that was offered.
‘Started already?’ he asked, gesturing at the computer screen.
‘Yes, I was just reviewing what you’d already done,’ she explained quickly.
‘How did you know the password?’ he asked casually.
‘I guessed… I just tried Cleo and it let me in,’ she said, with a slightly apologetic shrug.
‘Too obvious really,’ he mumbled to himself. Having his wife’s name as his password had been too painfully obvious, and now that he thought about it he could have kicked himself.
‘Oh damn!’ she shrieked suddenly, pushing herself back from the desk as the coffee splashed down all over her.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh I’m so sorry!’ she wailed, standing up and trying to brush the wetness from her clothes. Somehow she had spilt waves of coffee all down her blouse and over her skirt, making a real mess of things. The desk was splashed with coffee too, as was the screen and keyboard.
‘It’s not your fault,’ he said, though his voice indicated otherwise. While she was more concerned with her clothes his first concern was the computer, and the few tissues to hand were used to wipe the coffee from that.
‘What do I do now?’ she complained, looking down at herself pityingly. Her clothes were ruined, the snow-white blouse would never be the same again, and the skirt sported a sharp jag of darker colour where the drink had soaked through.
‘You’ll have to change,’ he told her, realising that there was no alternative.
‘But Mr Sheppard, I haven’t got anything else…’ she said, looking at him with widening eyes. Was she really that shocked? Or was it a game she was playing?
‘I’m sure that Cleo’s got something that fits,’ he suggested, smiling for the first time.
‘Won’t she mind?’ Felicity asked, also breaking into a complicitous smile.
Clive shrugged. ‘She’s not here to mind,’ he said. ‘And besides, this is quite innocent, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right,’ she agreed, happily, ‘it was an accident.’
The master bedroom was on the other side of the landing, just a few steps from the office. ‘This is a lovely room,’ she commented admiringly, taking in the bedroom which had been interior-designed by Cleo herself. ‘My wife designed it,’ he explained proudly. ‘She’s very good.’
‘Now,’ he said, crossing over to the wardrobe, ‘let’s find something for you to wear.’
‘You choose,’ she suggested, ‘dress me the way you’d like me.’
‘Flirting again,’ he laughed, Clive turned to look at the neatly-arranged outfits hanging in the wardrobe. Cleo liked to dress up, and her range of outfits was more than a match for anything that Felicity had worn to the office. He flicked through quickly and selected a loose-fitting dress, long enough to cover everything and so remove temptation completely.
‘Well?’ Felicity asked, her voice a low whisper. She had slipped off her top and her skirt and was now standing in the centre of the room clad only in bra and knickers. Her hands were crossed coyly over her chest a gesture of modesty that did nothing to dispel her seductive smile. Her legs were slightly crossed over, one in front of the other, skimpy white panties barely concealed the bulge of her sex. As he stared she shook her head, letting the long golden tresses fall over her shoulders.
‘You look stunning,’ he said finally.
‘Do you really think so?’ she asked, turning to one side, adopting a pose.
‘You know you do,’ he told her.
She turned her back to him, showing him her behind, the skimpy pants pulled tight against her bottom-cheeks. The supple curve of her back unblemished, the tone of her skin perfect. ‘Do you really want me to wear that?’ she asked, pointing to the long straight dress he was holding. ‘I could work like this if you like. Until my clothes dry.’
‘And we’d work, would we?’
She smiled coyly. ‘We could do lots of things…’
‘It was a happy accident then, the coffee?’
‘What do you think?’ she asked, lowering her eyes coquettishly.
‘I think you have a great deal of explaining to do.’
‘Oh my God…’ Felicity gasped, stepping back, her face a picture of dismay as she looked up to see Cleo standing in the doorway.
‘You look surprised to see me,’ Cleo said, a smile forming. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Felicity to get over the initial shock and to try to explain what she was doing.
‘But… but you were supposed to be away…’ Felicity mumbled, looking beseechingly at Clive for support.
‘And that gave you free rein,’ he remarked, walking across the room to join his wife. ‘That’s why you were so keen to join me this weekend.’
Felicity grabbed her wet clothes and held them tightly against her chest, trying to cover herself only moments after flaunting her desirable body. Her face blazed red with embarrassment, and her eyes were filled with nothing but confusion.
‘Perhaps you’d like to explain this?’ Cleo suggested, holding up Felicity’s black handbag and taking a blue diskette from it.
Felicity looked dumb, her eyes fixing on the small square of plastic that Cleo held up, the silver cover catching the light from the bedroom window. ‘I just wanted to make a safe copy of our work,’ she whispered feebly.
‘Is everything on there?’ Clive asked.
Cleo nodded. ‘All the files that you’d been working on at home, including the tenders for jobs that we’d only just started working on,’ she explained.
‘I’m sorry… I didn’t want to do this,’ Felicity admitted, bowing her head contritely.
‘You’ve been breaking the law,’ he explained coldly, ‘you do realise that. Why did you do it, Felicity? You’ve been treated well, your salary’s more than fair. Why did you betray us like this?’
‘I didn’t want to…’ she wailed, collapsing onto the bed, throwing herself face down and burying her head in the pillows. ‘Nick made me do it, he said that it wouldn’t do any harm… He said that it would help us…’
‘Enough of that, girl!’ Cleo snapped angrily.
‘It wasn’t my fault… I didn’t want to do it… Nick forced me…’ Felicity sobbed.
‘You won’t get any sympathy from us,’ Cleo told her. She unclipped the handle from the patent leather handbag and strode decisively over to the bed. Without hesitating she swung the looped strand of shiny black leather down onto Felicity’s pert backside.
There was a sudden silence, and Clive could not help but stare at the thin red stripe that his wife had smacked down onto Felicity’s curved backside. A moment later Felicity dared to look up, lifting her head from the furrowed pillows to meet Cleo’s steel grey eyes. ‘I’ve been so stupid,’ she mumbled, ‘that’s probably the least I deserve.’
‘What you deserve,’ Cleo decided, ‘is a sound spanking young woman. If I were in your position that’s what I would hope for, unless you’d prefer to tell your story to the police.’
‘This Nick, is he your boyfriend?’ Clive asked soberly.
‘No, not exactly. He’s a friend of a friend, but I owed him some money and he said I could pay it off by getting a few files from your computer,’ Felicity confessed. Her bottom was prominently displayed, and across it the red stripe was like a beacon that attracted the eye.
‘We’ll deal with him later,’ Cleo said. ‘Now, young woman, I think it’s time you accepted your punishment.’
There seemed no hesitation in Felicity’s eyes, only a sparkle of excitement that she could not quite hide. There was relief also, as if a great weight had been removed from her shoulders. ‘Which one of you is it going to be?’ she asked softly…
‘I want you across my lap,’ Clive told her, pointing to the end of the bed.
‘I am ever so sorry, Mr Sheppard,’ she apologised, crawling across the bed to where he had pointed. She moved sinuously, her graceful body toned and tanned, a sleek creature captivatingly attractive.
He exchanged a sly smile with his wife and then proceeded to the bed. He sat comfortably and then made way for Felicity to crawl over his lap. She moved into position without question, as though it were something she was used to.
‘You’ve been punished before?’ Cleo asked, voicing the question for both herself and her husband.
Felicity’s face coloured red as she nodded. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, her voice barely audible, ‘I’ve been smacked before…’
Clive raised his hand and brought it down, silencing Felicity and Cleo at once. Felicity winced, held her cry and dug her long painted nails into the bed. Her body was warm and sensual across his lap, and when he breathed her scent filled his lungs. Her lacy white panties could not hide the blush of her flesh, reddening quickly where his heavy slap had landed. A second smack, focused on her other bottom cheek, was followed by a third and a fourth. He smacked her hard, rhythmically, the flat of his hand tingling as he beat out her punishment. She was moving against him, unable to stop herself as the chastisement proceeded.
Five, six, seven. Each slap sounded through the room, and her body responded as she accepted the pain. At last she could hold back no longer, she squealed and buried her face in her hands, her long legs kicking as the strokes became harder and more deliberate.
‘Stop that, girl,’ Cleo commanded, annoyed by the kicking and struggling. She moved forward decisively and grabbed hold of Felicity’s knickers and pulled them down sharply, exposing the punished curves tanned a deep red by the volley of hard smacks.
‘Please… I’m sorry…’ Felicity whimpered miserably.
‘You need to be taught a lesson,’ Clive hissed.
Again he began to smack her, his hand moulding to the globes of her behind each stinging impact making her gasp audibly. At the top of the thighs her skin had reddened, and her strength was going she could no longer hold her composure. As her flesh burned he could see the moisture pour from her sex, the redness of her bottom spreading through to arouse her sexually.
At last the spanking stopped, and Felicity almost fell to the floor. She stood up shakily, her hands moving naturally to her behind. Her face was still red, but now the flush was of excitement and not shame. All thoughts of modesty had disappeared, she no longer tried to coyly conceal her sex, all she wanted to do was to rub away the smarting pain from her behind.
‘Stop that,’ Clive snapped, grabbing Felicity’s wrists and pulling her hands away from her behind.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Sheppard, but it does sting so terribly,’ she complained with a pout. Her panties slipped down from between her thighs and down to her ankles, a frilly white bundle between her feet.
‘How often have you been spanked before?’ Cleo demanded, exchanging a significant glance with Clive.
‘Not often,’ Felicity mumbled, looking away from Cleo’s piercing stare.
‘Obviously,’ Clive remarked. He could see the finger-marks on her backside reflected in the mirror by the bed, the outline of his hand over her bottom-cheeks and upper thighs.
‘Why were you here today?’ Cleo asked, taking a step behind Felicity. She reached down and ran her hand over the reddest parts of Felicity’s behind, her fingers lightly stroking the heat away.
‘To get the files,’ Felicity confessed sullenly.
‘Then why did you try to seduce me?’ Clive asked, tightening his grip on her wrists.
‘I… I didn’t…’ Felicity whispered, swallowing hard as she realised that she was caught in his iron grip.
‘But you did, my dear,’ Cleo whispered softly, her voice filled with menace.
‘No, the coffee was just an unfortunate accident.’
‘You’ll be punished again for the lies,’ Clive warned. ‘Now, the truth if you don’t mind.’
‘It was Nick,’ Felicity wailed, ‘he said that if we had sex you’d want to keep quiet if you discovered that the files had been copied.’
‘He sounds like an excellent character,’ Cleo sighed. ‘Is he the one that punished you before?’
Felicity seemed to lose the power of speech. She shook her head slowly, cascading golden tresses that caught the sun, her mouth forming words that did not come out.
‘Did he threaten you with punishment if you didn’t co-operate?’ Clive suggested. He did not relax his grip on her wrist, instead he pulled her arms lower, forcing her to bend at the waist, giving Cleo a better rear view.
‘Or did he spank you as a reward?’ Cleo suggested, smiling broadly.
‘How did you guess?’ Felicity asked, her voice filled with surprise, her eyes wide with shock.
‘I understand,’ Cleo assured her sympathetically. ‘You did wrong though, and you’ve been punished for it. Now it’s my turn to punish you, for trying to seduce my husband.’
Felicity cried out as the leather strap landed suddenly on her already punished bottom-cheeks. She tried to escape but Clive held her fast, pulling her arms lower and forcing her to bend over to receive her second dose of correction. The strap swished through the air and landed with a crack of sound, each stroke succeeded by a gasp of breath from her pretty lips.
Cleo showed no mercy, she was as ruthless as Clive had been, marking Felicity’s behind with line after line of redness. She understood the feelings running through the punished girl’s mind, she understood also the way the pain had become pleasure through some mysterious process.
‘We’ll deal with Nick ourselves,’ Clive was saying. ‘You’ll deliver the diskettes but the data will be meaningless and it’ll ruin whatever scheme he’s cooking up.’
‘In the meantime,’ Cleo added, wielding the strap with just that extra bit of severity, ‘we will have to continue to look after you in case you get into more trouble.’
‘If you’re to remain as my employee then you have to accept your punishment regularly, both from myself and from Cleo,’ Clive added.‘Yes… sir…’ Felicity sighed, lifting her pert backside higher as the strap came down hard against her naked flesh.