by Sarah Veitch
'Go easy on an arse which has lost me any chance of promotion? An arse which has ensured that we'll be the centre of all waterbed jokes for the next fifty two weeks?' He sighed low and long. 'Come to think of it, that seems a fitting second part of your punishment - fifty two bare bottomed spanks.'
Katrina sucked in her breath at the judicial sentence then let it out again in an impassioned wail as his palm smacked her exposed flesh for the first time. The spank echoed round Waterbed World and the mattress beneath them rippled in sympathy. Katrina tried to push her belly closer to his lap to protect her exposed bouncing globes.
'Count each spank out loud and thank me for it, Miss Mearns,' the man ordered evenly. 'If you get behind with your gratitude I'll have to start all over again.'
'Spank one - thank you, sir. Spank two, thank you sir,' Katrina managed, the words all rolling in to each other in her haste to get each acknowledgement out in time. She wondered if she could bear all fifty two without crying. She wondered if afterwards he'd let her come. The beauty queen whimpered with pleasure as she drove her pubis forward and it rubbed against his suit leg, whimpered with loss as her body arched back between spanks, taking the wonderful source of the clit-pleasing friction away.
By the time he'd gotten to spank forty-seven, Katrina had forgotten all about coming or going, had forgotten almost everything. She thought only of her cheeks and the spanks which were roasting them fast and hard. Her mind seemed to be floating somewhere above her body whilst her voice said number after number, then added 'Thank you, sir.' At last she gasped out 'Spank fifty two,' and muttered her gratitude, waited quiveringly for the next punitive slap.
'Right, Miss Mearns - that's your spanking completed. You may kneel by my feet apologetically,' Blake Lewison said.
Katrina stared numbly at the waterbed beneath her. Kneel. Apologise. She felt his hands under her armpits lifting her then depositing her on the carpet, saw the thick pole tenting his suit trousers. So he was as aroused and needful as she! Dazedly she crawled closer, pulled down the metal fastener, located the entrance to his briefs and carefully edged his manhood out. Its head was wet and pink and shiny. So was her tongue...
Katrina licked the first drop of salty stimulus away. A second one followed. She started to move her small palm up and down Blake Lewison's shaft as she tongued his tip. She put her free hand under his balls, weighing them appreciatively, knowing that their contents would soon rise in an ecstatic uncontrollable rush to meet her lips.
'I'm watching your crimson arse in the mirror over there,' Blake Lewison muttered. 'It's the hottest thing I've ever seen - and that's without the third part of your punishment. Oh angel, by the time I've finished with that backside you're going to have the sorest little cheeks.' He pushed his groin closer as he said the words and Katrina tightened her grip on his hardness, watched as it shuddered and strained and came and came.
When the last squirt had shot upwards then followed gravity and come to lie between her T-shirted breasts, Blake Lewison helped her to her feet. 'You've got two hours till the champagne ceremony. Go into the staff room and have a coffee, something to eat, a shower. Then put on that swimsuit and get ready to cut the ribbon and smile and smile.'
'What about...?' Katrina indicated the ruined bed and soaking carpets.
He grimaced. 'I'm about to call some friends in the cleaning and floor covering business. I'll make clear that it's an emergency.'
'And what about...?' Katrina continued huskily, her hand straying towards her glistening sex leaves.
'You'll get to come after you've endured the third part of your punishment,' Blake Lewison said evenly. 'It'll have to wait till 5.30pm when we shut up shop.'
She'd run away. She'd tell someone. She'd stamp on his feet, the merciless bastard. Katrina planned her escape as she smiled at the cleaning crew. Next she smiled at the press and finally at Waterbed World's very first customers. She sashayed around in her swimsuit from corner to corner offering people green olives and red cherries and pale gold champagne. The beauty queen was glad that her costume was a dark purple silk - a white one would have been much more see through, would have shown that her buttocks were a tell-tale red.
By lunchtime her hot sore bum had cooled to a slight itch. A catering crew brought in assorted sandwiches, mineral water, Coronation Chicken and Assam tea. Katrina ate and drank as if it was going out of fashion. A hard spanking gave you a big appetite, she mused. She risked a glance at Blake, but he was talking to one of the sales girls about the conditioner they put in the water beds. 'Stress that they don't have to change the water very often,' he said.
He'd changed his underwear and suit since she'd fellated him. She wondered if he'd changed his mind about correcting her further. After all, the Grand Opening had eventually gone to plan, so all was well that ended well, wasn't it?
'Wouldn't mind getting wet on one of his beds,' the sales girl grinned lasciviously as she passed Katrina.
'Maybe he's all good looks and no action,' Katrina said. She was surprised that he hadn't attempted to unfasten her bra or touch her clitoris after her spanking. She felt... slighted, still felt heavy of loins as well.
And so she remained for the rest of the day. At 5.35pm Blake gently steered a loitering pensioner out. 'Do you want tea, coffee or more champagne, Katrina?' he murmured, locking the bedding emporium's thick glass door.
'Um - tea please.' Her mouth suddenly felt dry. She followed him into the staff room, watched as he filled the kettle, put tea bags into an earthenware pot, fetched the milk from the tiny refrigerator. When on earth was he going to take her in hand?
They talked shop, ate the rest of the sandwiches with some Brie and chased them down with two thick wedges of carrot cake. Katrina stared at Blake's hands, at his crotch, dared a quick glance at his features. He looked as if he'd forgotten the promise - well, the threat - he'd made earlier in the day.
Relief and disappointment creating a hard pull in her breastbone, Katrina got up to go. 'Well, I'll see you around sometime,' she said, striving for casualness.
'You can't leave until you've experienced the third part of your thrashing,' Blake Lewison said.
The beauty queen felt the sexual tremors start up in her Venusian Mount again. 'Wanna bet?' she muttered challengingly.
Blake Lewison shook his head. 'You may have chosen a speculative career but I'm not the gambling type!'
It took the girl a moment or two to figure out what he meant. 'Oh, you mean the beauty queen business? I'm just doing that to help pay my way through College.' She stared at him defiantly across the staff room's pine wood table. 'I'm not a bimbo chasing some impossible dream.'
'No, but you behaved like a bimbo by almost wrecking our Grand Opening ceremony today, so your bottom still has to be disciplined,' the Waterbed World manager replied.
Katrina blushed and shifted awkwardly on that selfsame bum. The prospect of going over his knee again was just too awful. She'd feel so defenceless, so ashamed. At the same time she longed for some kind of physical contact, ached to come.
'If I agree to this will you... you know?' she muttered.
'I don't know. Tell me,' Blake Lewison said.
'Well, I pleased you with my mouth so...'
She watched the amusement light up his eyes and curve his mouth and his eyebrows. 'Ah, you want me to pay lip service back?'
'Whatever,' Katrina mumbled, toeing the ground with her bare feet. She wanted to climax under his tongue or his fingers or be impaled by his phallus. She wanted to come any which way she could. Her groin had stayed swollen, had quivered and pulsed since her earlier spanking. Her nipples had been hard with longing throughout the day.
'Oh, I'm sure that I can grant you some release after you've bucked under my belt for a while,' the manager said evenly. 'Or should I use that nice long ruler on my desk?'
He stood up and started to pace the room, picking up the everyday objects that lay scattered around. 'Should I use this big wooden spoon?' he asked, fingering the
paddle-like ornament which graced the main wall. 'It was a present from the catering company across the street,' he continued. 'See the inscription? A Gift From Grapevine Foods.' He hesitated then put the spoon back. 'No, I suspect it's too light for the very sound thrashing that your bottom is clearly in need of. Have you any suggestions of your own, my accident prone little dear?'
Katrina had been busily contemplating the whorls in the carpet, but now she sucked in her breath and looked up. 'I suggest you stick your wooden spoon up your arse,' she said hotly. After all, she couldn't just submit to the chauvinistic pig. Even if he was sexually alluring and overwhelmingly attractive, even if one firm gaze from these blue eyes made her wet.
'Dear me, I'll have to bear your bad language in mind when I'm reddening that naked bum and making it squeal for mercy,' Blake Lewison replied.
He resumed his thoughtful walk around the room. 'There's the rope used to tie the curtains back, of course. I could double it into a makeshift whip, get you trotting around the room like a little pony girl.'
Katrina forced a sarcastic sneer to her voice and prayed that he couldn't see how ashamed and aroused and confused she was. 'Christ, with your imagination you're wasted as the manager of this poxy store!'
'Criticising my career now. You must be looking forward to a very sore arse indeed.' He contemplated her curves.
'I'm looking forward to going home,' Katrina parried, trying to make her flushed features look faintly bored.
'That may be true.' He walked over to her, reached down and pulled the leg of her swimsuit to one side so that her pubis was visible, then slid one deft finger inside her slicked entrance. 'But you're looking forward to coming even more.'
Katrina cried out at the exquisite contact and bore down upon his digit, but he pulled it smoothly away.
'Bastard,' she whispered.
'I'm surprised that you want a fatherless man fingering you, my sweet.'
'It's been a while, that's all,' she muttered, damned if she'd give him the satisfaction of knowing he was special.
'Oh, I see - you were saving yourself till you found a man that could warm your arse.'
There was only one answer to that, and Katrina said it with as much conviction as she could. 'Oh, fuck off.'
'Is that what you want? Wouldn't you rather have this?' He fingered her again and she moaned and closed her eyes tightly.
'Please let me come,' she muttered. 'Oh please!'
'Alright.' He sounded faintly amused. 'Take your punishment bravely and I'll let you frig your clit against my fingers for a little while.'
He looked casually round the staff room again. 'Now where was I? Ah yes, choosing the appropriate implement of correction for your naughty backside.'
Katrina followed his gaze, anxious to get the punishment over with so that the pleasure could follow. Her eyes alighted on the long thin rod that lay beneath the projector. He'd presumably use it for pointing to the screen during future staff training days.
'The cane,' she said tonelessly. 'I suppose I could take the cane.'
As she watched, he looked thoughtfully at the implement and then back at her. 'Have you felt the cane on your bare bottom before, Katrina?'
'No but...' They used it in private schools, so how sore could it be? Still she swallowed hard as Blake Lewison reached out for the pale slim wand and flexed it in his fingers before swishing it lightly through the air.
'And how many strokes do you deserve for flooding my premises and ruining a water bed and causing the company extra cleaning bills, Miss Mearns?'
Katrina winced as she remembered her list of crimes then opted for the traditional punitive aggregate. 'I deserve six.'
She waited for him to double or treble the number of strokes. Instead he studied her reflectively, then said, 'Six it is. You're being extremely brave, my dear. I was just going to give you a half dozen swats with the spoon or with my belt or with a shoe.'
Did six swishes with the cane hurt more than those things? Surely not! 'No, I'll take the rod,' Katrina insisted, already looking forward to the moment when the last cane stroke ended and he began the first digital stroking of her clitoris. 'As long as we're quits on the water damage after I've had all six.'
'Oh, we'll be quits all right. In fact I'll happily give you a reference for having a sense of responsibility,' Blake Lewison replied. So she was figuring in his good books at last! Katrina treated him to a glowing smile, the kind of smile that had won her both previous beauty queen titles. 'Right, let's get that bum bared and bent over my desk,' her temporary boss continued, and the twenty year old's grin disappeared. Damn it, every time she thought she'd reached out to him or made an impression, he ruined her composure by talking her down.
Still, her spirits would rise after he'd made her clitoris crest. Desperate to reach that climactic moment, Katrina lowered herself across the smooth pine wood surface of the desk. She reached out and took hold of its smooth edge, and tensed, sucking in her breath.
She could hear the reproach in Blake Lewison's low deep voice. 'Sweetheart, you've forgotten to pull your swimsuit down. I want to see red stripes, not a purple silk covering. I want to watch you squirm as the rod singes your tender flesh.'
'I'll bet you do,' Katrina muttered. She searched for the most hurtful words she could find. 'You bastard, you're really getting off on this.'
'It passes the time,' the manager said nonchalantly. 'But hey, I'm not the one with a squirming wet pussy which is begging to be finger fucked.'
'Maybe I'm wet because I took one look at your ugly mug and pissed myself laughing,' Katrina spat out. She looked down at the desk beneath her face, she'd never been this crude before, or this hostile. There again, she'd never been spanked before today, far less caned.
'This ugly mug is ordering you to edge your swimsuit down,' Blake Lewison continued in an even tone. Katrina hesitated, then pushed the purple silk shoulder straps down her arms, edging the material over her breasts, waist and hips until it reached mid-thigh level. 'Leave it there,' the man instructed. 'It nicely accentuates the area I'm going to thrash.' At the mention of the word thrash Katrina's mouth winced nervously, but her female folds swelled and twitched.
'Good girl. Now grip the desk again.'
'I'm all woman,' Katrina shot back. A sudden streak of fire emblazoned its way across both naked orbs and she squealed like an injured pup. She pushed herself back from the desk and turned to face the manager, both hands desperately rubbing at her contours. 'You bastard! That was agony. That was...'
'That was what you requested,' the suited man reminded her. 'The first of six strokes of the cane.'
Katrina stared wildly at him. 'But it looks so thin. I had no idea that it would sting so much. I thought it would be milder than the belt or the ruler.'
Blake Lewison shook his impossibly handsome head and contemplated her calmly. 'Looks like your bare bottom's going to have to learn the hard way,' he said.
Katrina squeezed her hands even more firmly against her singly-striped bum. 'You mean you're going to make me endure the other five strokes?'
'That's what we agreed as payment for your wrongdoings.'
The girl demurred further. 'But that was before I knew how much it hurt.'
'You still did masses of water damage, my dear.' He cast a hand around the store. 'You've cost me time and worry, cost the firm a large amount of cash.' He sighed. 'Do you know how much it'll cost to replace heavy duty carpets like these? To have them fitted when the shop is shut, which means paying workmen for unsocial hours overtime?'
Katrina saw pound signs before her eyes; she realised that putting her wrongs to right would cost an awful lot. 'Couldn't I repay you in some other way?' she muttered, opening her thighs just a little and parting her lipsticked lips in what she hoped was a sexual take-me look.
'No, a deal's a deal,' Blake Lewison said. 'Let's have that bare bum facing me and asking nicely for its second scarlet stripe.'
Numbly Katrina looked at him and looked back at t
he desk. Grudgingly she took her hands away from her naked cheeks. She had no option; she'd either have to submit to the caning or end up owing Waterbed World a four or five figure sum. Even if their insurance covered it, this man would still see that her reputation in the Beauty Queen business and in retail management was no more. Katrina shifted from unshod foot to foot. In the last few moments the searing contact made by the hateful cane had mellowed to an insistent smarting. Maybe the second stroke wouldn't be so bad?
Taking a deep breath, she turned and lowered her torso over the wood, felt the hard pine under her soft exposed belly. Breathed in the scent of lemon furniture polish, then quivered at the hellish vulnerability of her waiting cheeks. The first stripe had been placed halfway down her arse; she could still feel its burning memory. She wondered where its successor would land.
'Raise that bum a bit higher, if you please,' Blake Lewison said.
'What if I don't please?' Katrina muttered, then cried out and jumped up as the rod left its second cruel taunt across her buttocks. 'Oh you bastard, you bastard,' she groaned, rubbing her sore rump and jumping up again. His mocking words had sent submissive pleasure rushing to her groin like a molten river, but the compassionless focus of the cane had momentarily robbed her of any depths of desire.
And yet... 'Only four more to go then your pussy gets to have fun,' Blake Lewison said.
'Four more like that and I'll need an ambulance,' Katrina muttered raggedly, still clutching her sore globes and facing her tormentor.
She heard the man's amused low snort. 'I know exactly what I'm doing. You won't need First Aid, my sweet.' He played the cane through his hands. 'I'm roasting the fleshier part of your arse. It hurts like hell, but won't do any permanent damage. The only long-term hurt is to your pride.'
'Gee, thanks,' Katrina got out. Part of her longed to triumph in this exchange, to shame this chauvinist. But the traitorous more obeisant side of her psyche wanted him to win!
