To Seek a Master

by Monica Belle

  With no choice but to get on with her normal routine, Laura closed down her computer and made for the station. She was a little later than usual, and the 17:40 was already standing at the platform. There seemed to be some sort of student event going on, with young men and women from the university crowding the train and every seat in her usual carriage taken, adding to her irritation.

  Some of the regulars were there, Miss Scarlett immediately in front of her, Darcy sat with his handsome face set in an expression of profound thought as he read Finnegans Wake, Hovis Boy scratching his left buttock, the Devil occupying Laura’s favourite window seat. There was nothing for it but to move down the carriage and hope that some of the students would get out at Waterbeach or Ely. She glanced down at the Devil as she passed him, hoping that he might prove to be the gentleman he looked, although with at least half the other passengers also female it seemed highly unlikely.

  To her immense surprise he immediately got up, favouring her with a polite inclination of his head as he indicated the now empty seat. Laura didn’t hesitate, moving before anybody else could take advantage of his generosity. As she passed the Devil he brushed against her and she felt the lining of her skirt move against the bare skin beneath. She was blushing again on the instant, sure that he must have realised she had no knickers on and imagining his disapproval. Still she looked up gratefully as she lowered herself into the seat, to find him looking down at her, his mouth curved up at one side into a smile that seemed to her both sardonic and wicked.

  She turned to the window, telling herself that next she would be imagining that the crowd of students gathered on the platform had ganged together into a cabal dedicated to tormenting her. They certainly looked the part, and she didn’t like the way Miss Scarlett was looking at her either, although she knew it was probably just because Laura had got the seat. It was best not to be paranoid, although as she took her book from her bag and settled down to read she was careful to keep her knees firmly together.

  Taken to Turkey was hotting up, making it possible to at least partially distract herself. Evangeline had been sold to Mustapha bin Yunus with her purity guaranteed, leaving Laura imagining an intimate and painfully humiliating inspection, although no details were given. Satisfied with his purchase, Mustapha had given Evangeline over to the care of a pair of huge and vindictive matrons, who’d stripped her, scrubbed her down and, when she’d protested at the rough treatment, spanked her bottom.

  It was the third spanking in the book, and in many ways the best, despite being dished out by two women rather than a man. The matrons were described as sitting opposite each other on the crude benches of a steam room, with other women watching and giggling as the hapless Evangeline was stripped out of her combinations and turned squealing across their knees. Laura found the idea of having other women laughing at her plight while she was spanked in the nude disturbingly strong, and read the passage with the book only half open for fear of her fellow commuters looking, as if they might realise what was going on in her head.

  By the time she got back to King’s Lynn her mind was buzzing with conflicting thoughts, some erotic, some frightening, most a little of each. Walking back towards her flat, she was looking forward to giving Smudge his evening exercise, which was sure to help her to cope with her now desperate sense of arousal, at least enough to allow her to focus on something less shameful than the choice between having gone without knickers for some complete stranger or being laughed at while given a public spanking.

  He jumped up to greet her as she opened the door, licking her face in boundless devotion despite her best efforts to push him away, so that her nose and most of one cheek were glistening with doggie drool as she turned to the sound of her name in a curt male voice.

  ‘Miss Irving?’

  Laura twisted around, her heel slipping from the edge of the doorstep to send her sprawling on the pavement with Smudge on top of her, delighted by the new game. She looked up, expecting to find the Man looking down on her, and knowing full well that she’d just proven her obedience to him beyond doubt as she went down on her back with her legs open. He was middle aged, balding, dressed in black with highlights of reflective orange and trying not to grin after what he’d just seen as he held out an enormous bunch of roses.

  ‘Delivery for you, Miss Irving. Compliments of Flowers within Hours.’

  8

  INSTEAD OF THE guilty pleasures she’d been anticipating, Laura spent the evening chiding herself for being silly and letting her mind dwell on the possibilities offered by the note Chris had included with his roses. It was brief and to the point, inviting her to meet him in the lounge bar of the Esplanade Hotel in Sheringham on the following Saturday, with a ps written in tiny neat letters: BRING A TOOTHBRUSH.

  There was no doubt at all what he meant. She was being invited for a dirty weekend at a smart hotel, which confirmed his interest in her and left the Controller once more a very poor second. Not that her curiosity had diminished, and as she showered she was trying to decide if what she had planned counted as being unfaithful to Chris.

  Knickers or no knickers, that was the question, whether she should leave them off and indulge herself in the powerful and undeniably erotic thrill of going bare in order to discover the Man’s identity, or put some on but still keep an eye out for men trying to peep up her skirt. The second choice was plainly the right thing to do, but the first was more satisfying because it had the great advantage that once she did identify him he would think she was his. That would allow her the pleasure of politely but firmly turning him down, and so getting back at him for what he’d put her through, from the first slight shock when she’d read his initial message to the hideous embarrassment of flashing the man who’d delivered Chris’s flowers.

  She wouldn’t even have to expose herself, or no more than she was used to at the beach. All she’d need to do was hitch her skirt up at one side, high enough to show off the top of her stockings and her suspender belt and to make it plain that she had no knickers on. He would be left boiling with frustration, with any luck, just as she had been the evening before, which would be a fitting revenge.

  Even as she dressed doubts began to assail her. What if it turned out to be Brian, with or without Dave, or Mr Henderson, who could make her life a misery, or even some psychopath? She went without anyway, but put a spare pair in her bag, telling herself that she’d enjoy the thrill of going bare and do whatever seemed best at the time.

  By the time she was halfway to the station she knew that she had made the right choice. It was a beautiful day, clear and sunny, with just a faint breeze that kept her aware that she was naked under her skirt with every step, the skin of her bottom and mound deliciously cool and sensitive even to the gentle rubbing of her skirt. She was quickly wishing that Chris was there, and that he knew, sharing her naughty secret until he could get her alone, when she’d be given the same rude treatment he’d dished out over the bonnet of his car, and perhaps somewhere even more risky.

  Even if she failed to catch the Controller she knew she’d be on edge all day, while the sense of risk had faded with familiarity. On the train it was better still, with the added excitement of watching her fellow passengers and trying to decide who might be the Man. All the King’s Lynn regulars got on, first Darcy, who barely glanced at her and went to sit well down the carriage, triggering a touch of disappointment despite her devotion to Chris.

  Mr Brown was if anything even more detached than Darcy, but Hovis Boy sat down diagonally opposite her, immediately glancing at her legs. Laura felt her heart sink and a flush of embarrassment start to creep up her neck at the thought of him being the man she’d allowed herself to get into a state over, but the moment two girls from one of the local sixth forms got in he turned his attention to them, his mouth dropping open into his normal dead fish expression as he let his gaze feed on their slender legs and tiny miniskirts.

  Laura began to read as the train pulled out of the station, enjoying Evangeline’s conster
nation as the heroine was given clothes to wear in the harem: a pair of gauzy emerald-green pantaloons and a hopelessly inadequate halter top in the same see-through material. Only at Downham Market did she lift her attention to the train, but the Grey Man showed no more interest in her than the first two and the Tramp didn’t appear at all. Ely was different, with Miss Scarlett getting on first to sit in the last remaining group of empty seats, then the Devil, who greeted Laura with what she was sure was a knowing grin and sat next to another passenger, in the one remaining seat in which he had a chance of admiring her legs.

  She had started to shake, wondering if it was him after all, all her tangled emotions flooding back at the possibility that the cool, immaculately groomed man just a few feet away knew that she was naked beneath her skirt, and in stockings and suspenders as he had instructed. Rejecting him suddenly seemed an impossibility, an outrage even, her own behaviour teasing and flirtatious.

  He’d be angry. He’d have every right to be angry. He’d have every right to put her across his knee and spank her in front of the entire carriage, on her bare bottom with the men grinning at her exposure and the women gloating over her humiliation, Miss Scarlett laughing at the sight of Laura’s bouncing bottom cheeks, Hovis Boy leering at her naked sex and the tight little hole above.

  Laura shook herself hard, desperately trying to dispel the rush of erotic thoughts and wishing she wasn’t so helpless in the face of her own dirty and over-active imagination. The Devil had merely smiled at her, perfectly reasonably when they saw each other every day and he had given up his seat the evening before, while he’d simple taken the most convenient seat for the doors. Yet her heart was pounding and she felt hot and wet between her thighs, shamefully excited over nothing while a young, handsome and successful man had all but declared his love for her only the evening before.

  Feeling ashamed of herself, she resolved to send the Controller an email as soon as she got into work, plainly stating that she was in a relationship and apologising if she had appeared to lead him on. With luck he’d accept her verdict, and if not he’d just have to be told more forcibly, whatever it took, even if it meant accepting a knickers down, bare bottom spanking for her atrocious behaviour.

  Again Laura shook herself, fighting to keep her thoughts on track, but her need was simply too strong. She had to know who he was, to force a resolution, and it would be for the best if it did prove to be Brian, or Dave, or Hovis Boy, because then there would be only embarrassment, no regrets. With luck she would know by the end of the day, and the first thing to do when she got to work was to force the issue with Mr Henderson. Or rather, the second thing, because until she’d calmed herself down a little she wasn’t sure that she could manage anything at all.

  The moment she arrived at EAS she went to the Ladies, burning with shame for what she was about to do but telling herself she had no choice. It wasn’t the sort of thing nice, properly behaved girls did, but maybe she wasn’t a nice girl, maybe she was a dirty, badly behaved girl, the sort of girl who would benefit from a good spanking, preferably delivered in public.

  She was early, having come from the station at something close to a run, and there was nobody about. Locking herself into a cubicle she closed her eyes, wondering why her head was in such a muddle. For one last time she tried to tell herself to stop being silly and dirty, but the thought of her bad behaviour forced her thoughts back to the spanking she felt she deserved, trapping her in a cycle of arousal from which there was only one way out.

  Stifling sobs for her overpowering emotions, Laura surrendered, allowing her thoughts to drift. Still standing, her eyes still closed, she allowed her imagination to take its own path, back to the train and what might have happened. She imagined that all the regulars had been in league, planning to amuse themselves at her expense. They’d have know she was bare under her skirt, and that she would do as she was told.

  In her mind’s eye there was nobody else in the carriage, just the six regulars. The Devil would be in charge, his natural place. He’d tell Laura to get up, to go to the open space between the doors and stand still while the others assembled, some standing, some seated, but all with a good view of her body. She’d know what was coming, and so would they, but the Devil would make her wait, enjoying her apprehension until the moment was exactly right. Only then would he give his order.

  ‘Lift your skirt.’

  She would obey, unable to stop herself despite the agonising embarrassment of exposing herself, inching her skirt up to show off her stocking tops, the slices of bare white flesh above, her straining suspenders straps, the underside of her cheeks, her whole bottom, full and bare, and her sex. Miss Scartlett would laugh and make some unfair comment on the size of Laura’s bottom. Hovis Boy would peer closely, determined not to miss a single detail as he enjoyed having a woman bare herself for the first time in her life.

  As she played the awful scene through in her mind, Laura had tugged up her skirt, exposing her bottom and sex in the cubicle just as she was imagining herself doing so in the train. It felt good, far too good to stop, or to rush. Her fingers went to the top button of her blouse as she let the fantasy run on. It would be Hovis Boy who suggested the added and unnecessary humiliation, his voice a high demanding whine, full of dirty lust.

  ‘I want to see her tits. Make her get her tits out.’

  Darcy would agree.

  ‘Yes, why not? She looks as if she has nice breasts.’

  But it would be the Devil who gave the order.

  ‘Bare your breasts, Laura.’

  She began to undo her buttons, imagining the silent attention of all six people staring at her as she undid her blouse, pulled it wide and turned down the cups of her bra, leaving her breasts exposed, each plump pink handful of flesh nestled in the dishevelled silk of her clothing, her nipples stiff with involuntary excitement. To show them would be bad enough, but it would get worse, the Devil’s voice cool and amused as he gave the next order.

  ‘Play with them for a while.’

  Laura’s hands were already on her breasts, cupping them as she ran her thumbs over her nipples to bring her excitement rapidly higher. She was going to do it, all her inhibitions abandoned as she slipped a hand between her thighs, the other still stroking at her chest. As she began to masturbate she was already biting her lip to stop herself from crying out, and she had taken the scene in her head back to the beginning.

  First she’d be made to stand, next to lift her skirt, showing that she’d gone without knickers at the Devil’s command and that she was their’s to amuse themselves with. The men would demand to see her breasts and she’d complete her exposure, standing bare in every way that mattered as the Devil spoke again.

  ‘Get over my knee, Laura. I am going to spank you.’

  She nearly came at the thought, rubbing hard between her sex lips and clutching at one breast as she imagined how it would be, bent over the Devil’s lap, her bottom lifted, bare and pink and vulnerable, her cheeks a little open to show the tight little hole between, every rude fold of her sex on blatant display. Miss Scarlett would be laughing as it began, Laura squealing and wriggling across the Devil’s knee as her cheeks bounced to the slaps and her legs kicked in the air, while her breasts would be squashed out on her tormentor’s leg. Mr Brown and the Grey Man would take an ankle each, holding her down to leave her completely helpless as the spanking continued. Hovis Boy would start to take photos, hideously intimate ones that showed her face and her bare bottom at the same time, and her sex, and her anus. And Darcy, Darcy would wait until her poor naked bottom was bright red and glowing hot from spanking, and then fuck her.

  Laura bit down hard on her lip as she started to come, the scene burning hot in her mind as she snatched and squeezed at herself: her hot spanked bottom raised and open as she was held helpless for penetration, Miss Scarlett’s laughter shrill and cruel in her ears, Hovis Boy’s camera clicking again and again as Darcy eased his erection deep into her wet, willing pussy, her shame compl
ete as she begged him to fuck her as hard and as deep as he could.

  Her legs had gone weak as she rode her orgasm, and as it faded she settled slowly against the cubicle wall, astonished at herself for what she’d done and how strong her need had been. Just a few days before the idea of being so powerfully aroused that she ended up playing with herself in the Ladies would have seemed as ridiculous as it did outrageous. Now she had done it, but while it was useless to pretend that her real motivation had been anything other than pleasure, it had certainly helped to calm her down.

  She still felt nervous and more than a little ashamed of herself as she tidied up, but that only strengthened her resolve to sort out who the Controller was once and for all. Mr Henderson would come first, manoeuvred into an admission by means of a carefully crafted question that would allow her to back out unscathed if he wasn’t the Man. He was already in the office, and glanced up from the papers he was studying as she entered, greeting her much as he usually did.

  ‘Good morning, Laura. You’re looking very smart today.’

  It took all her courage to answer.

  ‘Thank you, sir. I did as you asked. Would you like to see?’

  His expression changed, but only to puzzlement. Laura switched to plan B, hastily letting go of the pinch she’d taken in the material of her skirt as she continued.

  ‘About the Orwell B account. I have the figures ready.’

  ‘Ah, yes. All in good time, Laura.’

  Mr Henderson was innocent. No man, no matter how self-controlled, could possibly have looked so completely blank in response to a woman offering to lift her skirt for him. She relaxed a little, only for her tension to return as she remembered that her next option had to be Brian. Taking her seat at her computer, she pretended to start work while thinking of how best to catch him out. Unlike Mr Henderson, he couldn’t possibly be expecting her to respond to him, and so presumably wanted her to think he was somebody else, another more attractive man. That made her task harder, as he wasn’t going to admit to it whatever she did, while if she pretended to come on to him he would realise it was a trick. The idea also made her feel sick.