By his tenth slap, Rupert seemed to be getting into it. Not only was his hand coming down with more force but his erection strained upwards at a 45-degree angle. Nola whimpered open-mouthed. The wet on her face wasn’t just from Amanda’s juices.
Amanda pulled Nola’s head higher, directing that tantalising tongue to her aching bud. God damn, the girl was good! A sigh escaped Amanda’s mouth before she could stop it, but it only served to encourage Nola. When Rupert reached 39, Amanda forced herself to pull the girl’s mouth away and take a few deep breaths. She’d been balanced on the brink and didn’t want to climax, not just yet.
Rupert exclaimed, ‘Forty, twenty on each cheek!’ He paused before adding, ‘Ms Amanda, you should take a look at her bum. It’s mainly a brilliant red but it’s mottled with blue and purple in some places. I can’t believe I did that.’
‘Good.’
Amanda looked at Nola’s face. Her eyes were glazed. Her lips were slack. She had a look of total surrender, but showed no sign of desperation. It seemed that forty hard slaps on her bottom were no more than hors d’oeuvres for the masochistic little sex-pot. Very well. It was time for the main course.
‘Rupert,’ Amanda said, ‘there’s a plastic ruler in the middle drawer of my desk. Fetch it.’
Nola’s eyes widened. ‘Not …’
‘You know what it feels like?’ Amanda asked.
‘Yes – no – I mean, I can imagine.’
‘I’m sure that you can. Do you want out? You can leave right now, if you like, if you aren’t brave enough.’
‘I can take it.’
‘Good girl.’ Amanda pushed Nola’s face back down into her lap. ‘Rupert, just ten, five on each cheek. Aim low, where her bum meets her thighs.’
‘But I might hit her –’
‘Pussy lips? Yes, you might. That’ll really make her squeal!’
Nola’s tongue flickered harder and faster, as if the thought of having her tender nether lips clipped by the edge of a plastic ruler inspired her.
At the fifth hard crack of the ruler, Nola yelped.
Amanda lifted the girl’s head. ‘Do you want to beg for mercy?’
Nola shook her head.
‘Very well. Carry on, Rupert.’
The ninth blow brought a long gurgling wail from Nola. From the sound of it, the little bitch had climaxed! The tenth and final whack elicited a deep grunt. Amazing! Amanda could understand, sort of, how a spanking could be pleasurable. She’d never imagined that one could actually give a girl an orgasm. She had to try it.
The ‘to do’ list she kept in her head never seemed to shrink. Now that she was trying Sapphic sex for the very first time, crossing one thing off, she was adding ‘being spanked to see if it could make her climax’.
Nola, despite her orgasm, was still lapping avidly at Amanda’s hard pink bud.
‘Good girl,’ Amanda purred. ‘You were very brave. I’m proud of you.’
Nola’s sincere ‘Thank you’ was muffled but understandable.
What next? Rupert’s rigid cock reminded her. ‘Rupert. Fuck this little tramp. Take it slow and easy, just like I taught you.’
That brought a questioning squeak from Nola. She obviously hadn’t known that Amanda had had the boy first. Fair trade. Nola had fucked Amanda’s husband and Amanda had fucked Nola’s new boyfriend. Even Stevens, baby.
Amanda sat up and lifted Nola’s head. Her mouth was very wet and kissable. Amanda’s flavour was on the girl’s tongue. As she sucked it off, Amanda peered past Nola. Rupert had to semi-squat to line his shaft up with the girl’s sex. Nola tensed, no doubt because she felt Rupert’s knob pushing at her pussy’s bruised lips.
Both the girl and the lad grunted. He was in her! The young man was taking the young woman, and at Amanda’s command! It was just too good! Beside herself with wicked glee, Amanda lifted her leg over Nola’s head and rolled off the sofa. Much as she’d been enjoying the delightful things the girl’s tongue had been doing, she just had to see what Rupert was up to.
What a sight! Rupert hadn’t exaggerated when he said that Nola’s svelte oval cheeks were bright red with blue and purple patches. And the livid stripes that had to be from the ruler were developing into pale ridges. It must have really hurt.
Rupert leant back to angle himself upwards. As he withdrew, Nola’s pussy was exposed. Yes, he had clipped its lips. They were swollen and plum coloured. She had to be so tender that each time he ground into her it caused a fresh surge of serious pain.
He was holding her hip in one hand but the other still held the ruler. Amanda took it from him and set it aside. Whether or not Nola was up for it, she wasn’t going to have her bum punished any more, not just then.
Rupert stretched up and angled his cock down. Amanda reached between the youngsters and groped around until she found the girl’s clit. For the first time, she felt some sympathy for the fumblings of men. It wasn’t as easy to locate a clitoris as it was to find a penis, that was for sure. Once she had a grip on it, she rolled it between her fingertips. Rupert’s balls dragged across her hand. ‘Good boy, Rupert,’ she said. ‘Make it last as long as you can.’
Amanda squatted for a closer view. She ran her other hand over the radiant heat of Nola’s bruised skin. The girl clenched her ass-cheeks and quivered, as if Amanda’s touch was electric. ‘Please?’ she sighed.
Please what? Amanda stroked again. Nola half-twisted her hips towards Amanda’s fingers. She wanted to be touched – where? Oh! Amanda wet a finger and stroked its pad around the striated skin that ringed Nola’s tight little bum-hole.
‘Mm!’
‘You like that?’
‘Very much, thank you, Ms Garland.’
Amanda’s fingertip spiralled in until it settled over the pinhole. To her amazement, she felt Nola’s sphincter loosen without her applying an ounce of pressure. It was an invitation that Amanda couldn’t resist even if she wanted to. Her finger pushed. Hot flesh clung. Amanda wriggled her finger and worked it deeper. What did that feel like for the girl?
Rupert gasped, ‘Oh fuck!’
For a moment, Amanda thought the boy was about to climax but his exclamation had been a reaction to seeing his boss and mistress sticking her finger deep into the bottom of his young girlfriend. It must have been quite a shocking sight for him, considering how recently Amanda had first debauched him.
The boy pulled back. Amanda felt the bulky head pass beneath her finger in Nola’s ass. The sensation was different; it was exquisitely delicate. He pushed in, dilating Nola again and pressing up at Amanda’s finger. The two, the mature woman and the precociously depraved lad, exchanged knowing looks. The next time he pressed into Nola, it was for Amanda’s pleasure more than for Nola’s, she was sure.
Nola purred, ‘Please, Ms Garland?’
‘Please what?’
‘Two fingers, or three?’
Some sadistic dominatrix she was: her victim had to ask for more intense abuse. Nola wanted more, did she? Very well!
‘Stop fucking her, Rupert,’ she ordered.
Rupert froze, his cock still halfway embedded.
‘Pull out.’
He obeyed. Amanda twisted her finger out of the girl’s bum and left off fingering Nola’s clit. She took hold of Rupert’s shaft and guided its slippery head to nudge at Nola’s already relaxed sphincter. ‘Ever done this before, Rupert?’
‘No Ms Amanda.’
‘You’ll like it. Now push.’
Rupert took Nola’s hips in his hands and pulled on them as he rammed unceremoniously into her bottom. Amanda gasped even louder than Nola. Rupert grunted and did it again. Nola squealed with obvious delight. OK then.
‘As hard and as fast as you like, Rupert,’ Amanda said.
He drove into the girl and swivelled his hips, grinding in as deeply as he could push. Amanda cupped a palm under and between them to toy with the girl’s swollen lips and the boy’s swaying balls. He pulled back, quickly, and slammed in again.
‘Fa
ster!’ Amanda encouraged.
He pumped quickly and furiously. His face contorted. It looked as if he was about to climax and Amanda didn’t want him to, not just yet. She snatched up the ruler and whacked it across his bottom.
‘Wha –!’
She struck him again.
The sudden pain seemed to have pulled Rupert back from the edge he’d been balancing on but Amanda found that she was having far too much fun to let up. Each time his buttocks drew back, she swiped at him again, spurring him back in. They developed a rhythm that, almost as if by mutual consent, accelerated. Amanda wasn’t counting but she was sure he’d endured far more than the ten blows he’d given Nola, yet he still hadn’t so much as yelped. Amanda was astonished by the pain threshold of both Nola and Rupert. Clearly, she had a lot to learn. She drew her arm back and delivered yet another crack to Rupert’s beet-red bum.
Rupert gasped, ‘I can’t hold back any more, sorry!’ and skewered his shaft into the girl’s bottom.
Nola, who’d been whimpering and moaning with pleasure, suddenly screamed, ‘Fill me up, you fucking bastard! Give me your hot load!’
The filthy words, delivered at top volume, electrified the boy. He ground into Nola, grunting and groaning with complete abandon. Nola thrust up to meet him, urging him on with her body and her unintelligible moans. It seemed as if a pulse ran through Rupert’s entire body before he slumped, staggered back and sank to the floor. His cream trickled obscenely from Nola’s bum-hole.
The frantic coupling had driven Amanda wild. She flipped Nola over on to her back so that she lay across the sofa’s arm on her bottom, puffy pubes uppermost. Amanda hunched over Nola and thrust three fingers into the girl, found her swollen seed with the ball of her thumb and frigged her frantically. Nola reached out to Amanda’s sex and fingered it the same way.
At last Amanda gave in to the sexual need that throbbed in her body with every beat of her heart. A few minutes of frenzied fingering later, they climaxed more or less simultaneously. Amanda threw back her head and let her voice express what her body was experiencing as she came for the umpteenth time that day. Nola’s trills of delight joined Amanda’s howls to create a Sapphic cacophony that rang in Amanda’s head all through her drive home and right up to the moment she fell into her bed for a few hours of much deserved rest.
When she arrived at her office the next day, there were two gifts waiting for her. The first was obvious – a gigantic bouquet of white and pink roses in full bloom commanded her immediate attention, their scent as heady as the most concentrated rose-based perfume. ‘Lovely!’ she called to Nola, who was rather gingerly seated at her workstation. ‘Who sent them? You? Rupert?’ It was inconceivable that her two young playmates had either the funds or the sensibilities to arrange such an extravagant offering.
Nola shook her head, her full lips compressed into a thin straight line. ‘No, that’s not from me,’ she grumbled.
Amanda closed the door to her office. She circled the bouquet. It was truly a superior arrangement. Unless she was mistaken, the vase was crystal. She began counting the blooms, putting off reading the attached card as long as possible, enjoying the suspense, but left off at 26. The flowers were from Buds, a shop so exclusive its name seemed self-effacing, rather than silly. The card read, ‘A rose by any other name is not nearly as lovely as you. – Tom.’
Oh yes, young Tom Sharpe. She’d almost forgotten him in the excitement of her first ménage, her first time with a woman, her first time as a dom. He was a good lad, perhaps a bit – what was the word – ‘vanilla’, that was it; he was a bit vanilla for her taste. It took all Amanda’s strength to move the great vase of roses from the centre of her desk to a low table under the corner window. They’d get plenty of light there, and she needed her desk. She’d have to call Tom and thank him, and she’d have to do so soon, as he was due back at college in a few days, if she remembered correctly.
Amanda sat down at her desk, aware that she was a tad disappointed by the name on the card. She turned it over in her hand. Exactly who had she hoped the flowers might be from? David Beckham? Leonardo DiCaprio? Jared Leto? Amanda giggled. Perhaps one of the British Princes, William or Harry? She flipped the card into her pencil drawer. Amanda could only hope that Tom had paid for the flowers himself and not charged them to his mother’s credit card.
Now that the vase was off her desk, Amanda saw a thick manila envelope that hadn’t been there the night before. It was marked: ‘Ms Garland, Private’. When she opened it, she found a D&S magazine that featured a photo-story about a vicious-looking but gorgeous dominatrix wielding a leather paddle on the bottom of a worshipful little female submissive. The dominatrix had been labelled, in pen, ‘Ms A.G.’ The submissive’s hair had been brightly coloured in with a pink felt-tip pen.
So, Nola had chosen Amanda Garland as a replacement for Roger Garland as her dominant, had she? In that case, Amanda decided she had better do some research. She left her office early; frankly, every muscle in her body ached from the debauchery of the day before. But, she noted with some satisfaction, sexually she was entirely sated.
After a long dreamless early-evening nap, Amanda surfed the web for material about domination and submission. The number of websites devoted to the subject was overwhelming so she concentrated on a few highly informative sites. Amanda was pleased to find that many of her instincts had been right on the money. She’d been correct in her assumption that it would be a mistake to inflict pain when angry and she’d used her voice well, by turns commanding and praising her two eager submissives. Amanda had good reason to be proud of her first attempt at domination, but she’d been lucky, too. What if Nola or Rupert had refused to do as she bid? She wouldn’t have known how to deal with it at the time, but now she did.
This strange world of D/s was actually very well ordered, with strict rules that made perfect sense. Safe, sane, consensual. Next time – and she was sure there would be a next time – she’d assign the submissive a safe word, and she’d plan events in advance, but on the whole Amanda was content with the way she’d played things. It was simple, really, as long as the dominant stayed in control of the situation, which had been easy for Amanda, and in control of herself, which hadn’t come quite so naturally to her. There’d been any number of times when she’d desperately wanted to abandon herself to the highly charged eroticism of ‘scening’. But she’d been right not to do so. There were sacrifices to be made when one chose the dominant role but, as Amanda had discovered, the rewards were spectacular.
That night, when Amanda went to bed, she dreamt of an infinite daisy-chain that alternated dominant and submissive, command and obedience, absolute control and total surrender, everyone knowing their places and sublimely happy.
12
MR EGGERDON WAS alternately ecstatic and despondent. With prices slashed at every Forsythe Footwear shop, the company’s bank accounts were fatter than they’d been in years, and still gorging. On the other hand, the value of their inventory, in their assets account, was plummeting. The net balance was negative. They were, on paper, bleeding money.
On top of that, Ms Garland’s juvenile team had reorganised the way inventory accounts were kept, so that no profit was shown until an item was actually sold. Ridiculous!
Mrs Carrey was frantic. In under a week, five shop managers had given notice, all panicked by rumours that Forsythe Footwear was going under. She’d never had to deal with that many severance packages at one time, not back in the days when Mr Garland had been in charge!
While trying on some of the sample shoes she’d had returned by all the shops that had some in stock, Amanda consulted with Rupert and Paul. Based on Rupert’s knowledge of the managers’ personalities and sales abilities and Paul’s mathematical analyses of their ordering habits, they agreed that two of the managers who’d given notice should be allowed to go but two should be persuaded to stay, if at all possible. They disagreed about the fifth, Meg, the tall slender blonde who had been Rupert’s assistant bef
ore being promoted to take his place. Rupert said she’d be an asset. Paul maintained that she was untried and too young, and female, come to that. By tradition, Forsythe’s managers were always men. Paul suggested Rupert wanted to keep her on just because he was desperate to get into her panties.
Rupert and Amanda exchanged secret looks. Neither of them was about to explain that, what with Amanda and Nola, separately and together, Rupert was getting all the sex he could handle.
Poor Paul. Amanda suspected he was the brightest of her young stars and possibly the most dedicated – to her company and to her personally. She’d have to reward him for that in the future, but there’d be no future if she didn’t get to keep Forsythe Footwear.
Amanda said, ‘I’ll go size the girl up for myself.’
Rupert smirked. Amanda shot him a look that should have fried his brains.
The intercom buzzed. Nola’s voice announced, ‘Trevor, the building’s security man, would like a word, please, Ms Garland.’
Amanda ushered her handsome boy-toys out of her office and let hunky Trevor in.
He said, ‘That woman, Ms Sophie Sharpe, was back again this morning, Ms Garland. I told her that you’d had her barred from the building and I escorted her out.’
‘Thank you.’ Amanda glanced guiltily at the now droopy roses in the window.
‘Did she, um, say what she wanted?’
‘You know what she wants. To take over your company.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘She told me that, when she’s in charge of Forsythe Footwear, she’ll have my job.’
‘Does that worry you?’
He grinned. ‘I don’t work for the company, I work for the building. But there’s something else.’
‘Something else? What did she say?’ Amanda’s heart sank. Damn that Tom Sharpe, he’d promised to keep their liaison a secret.
Trevor’s face became stern. ‘This has nothing to do with Ms Sharpe. There’s something you and I have to talk about.’
Amanda said, ‘Go ahead.’
‘Not here. Not now.’
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