That stung, sort of. ‘Well, she’s not Chris’s secretary, is she?’ I sniffed.
For a moment I was certain I’d overstepped the mark. Jan’s face seemed to darken, her eyes narrowed menacingly and I was sure that a storm of invective was on the way. I held my breath but the moment passed, her smile returned and I could breathe again.
‘There’s one good thing you can say about Delia,’ Jan said, ‘and that’s that she responds well to a firm hand.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, confused by the unexpected remark.
Jan sipped from her glass, looking at me with her pretty blue eyes, which scanned my face looking for meaning in my blank expression. ‘Just that she understands the need for discipline sometimes, not like a lot of young girls these days.’
I wasn’t sure whether there was a barb in there directed at me. ‘You mean you’ve met her?’ I asked, deciding not to take the bait.
‘Of course, Susan,’ she replied blithely. ‘You don’t think I’d let a pretty little thing like her near Peter without first seeing what she’s like?’
‘No, of course,’ I agreed. I wished I had as much say in things as she did, but then being the boss’s wife certainly had its advantages. ‘So,’ I asked, ‘what’s she really like?’
Jan laughed again, her blue eyes sparkling, her red lips parting over even white teeth. When she laughed like that, so natural and attractive, I used to feel a sudden stab of emotion deep inside me, something that I was only vaguely aware of.
‘She’s as busty as the men say, and as flighty too, but she’s harmless really. I’d say she’s just a bit younger than you, though perhaps not as pretty, and certainly not as intelligent.’
I blushed, I couldn’t help it. ‘Thanks,’ I mumbled. ‘Chris never says those sort of things to me.’
‘Do men ever?’
‘No, I suppose not. Though I wished he’d stop drooling so much whenever he talks about Delia Fairfax…’
‘Back to Delia again,’ Jan sighed, shaking her head sadly. She lay back on the sofa again, crossing her legs and letting me look at her smooth, tanned skin.
‘Well, I’m sure she doesn’t have to dress in those skimpy outfits,’ I complained, suddenly angry. I realised that my glass was empty and just then I desperately fancied another drink. I stood up and saw that Jan was glaring again, obviously annoyed with me.
‘It seems to me,’ she said slowly, ‘that you’re jealous of her, and it does you no good at all.’
‘Why should I be jealous? Because I don’t flash my whatsits every chance I get?’ I was getting angrier and angrier, and forgetting that Jan’s husband had the power to fire and hire Chris. I ignored the icy look and crossed the room to pour myself some more wine.
‘That’s not a very nice attitude,’ Jan said coldly, dropping the temperature in the room by half a dozen degrees. She still looked beautiful though, her diamond earrings adding sparkle to her face, her prominent lips pursed and pouting. It confused me; the fact that she could look so attractive when she was angry, and the fact that I was noticing how good she looked.
I picked up the bottle shakily and began to refill my glass. The neck of the bottle was dappled with droplets of condensation, and I watched it slip from my hand, falling in slow motion with a sickening finality. The bottle smashed hard on the mahogany of the coffee table, not smashing, but bouncing on the polished surface and then falling to the floor. The deep scratch, almost a dent, in the table was a crescent that stood out a mile away. If that were not enough I stood, completely dumb, and watched the cool white wine pour into the thick pile of the carpet, waves of yellowy liquid glugging out and soaking into dark patches.
‘For God’s sake pick it up!’ Jan cried, racing across the room.
I couldn’t say a word; the sight of the bottle emptying on the floor transfixed me. My horror was absolute, the scar on the coffee table was leaping out at me and grabbing me by the throat. It wasn’t wine spilling out on the floor, it was my future seeping away.
Jan grabbed the bottle, but it was almost empty. She glared at me angrily, and if looks could kill then I was a dead woman for sure. She pushed me out of the way but there was nothing she could do, the damage had been done, and done by me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, amazed to find that the power of speech had returned at last.
‘Sorry? Sorry? Is that all you have to say?’ she screamed, absolutely livid.
‘I’m sorry, I’ll pay for the damage of course…’ I said quietly, backing away from her slowly.
‘Of course you’ll pay! Look at it! Look what you’ve done!’
‘I’m sorry…’
‘And you had the gall to complain about Delia?’ she continued, raising her eyes in disbelief.
‘I said I’m sorry,’ I said, in a voice so small it was hardly there.
‘At least Delia knows when she’s been a bad girl.’
That did it. My sense disappeared there and then, finished off by the mere mention of Delia Fairfax again. ‘What do you mean?’ I whispered.
‘Delia Fairfax would not only have cleared this mess up, and offered to pay for the repairs, but she would have accepted her punishment too.’
‘I will pay…’ I repeated, aware that I hadn’t even tried to clear the mess up.
‘And the rest?’
‘If I need to be punished…’ I began, then stopped. It occurred to me that I had no idea what I was talking about, and rather than make an even bigger fool of myself I shut up.
‘You do need to be punished, young lady,’ Jan warned me. Her temper seemed to be going and I was grateful for that, and eager to seize on the chance to make things up.
‘What sort of punishment?’ I asked innocently. I imagined that I’d have to spend the weekend doing all the washing up, and the hoovering, and any other task deemed appropriate.
Jan went back to the sofa and sat down, placing her knees close together and sitting on the edge of the seat. ‘Come here,’ she ordered, pointing to a spot a few inches to her right.
I walked across the room, trying not to look at the damaged coffee table, the sheen of polished mahogany spoiled by the deep crater I had accidentally created. I stopped in front of her, ready to be lectured and strangely excited by it.
‘I think a firm spanking is in order,’ she explained, in a voice so clear and commanding that it went straight to the heart of me. ‘You’ve been a bad girl, not just by making the mess, but also what you were saying about Delia, and what you were inferring about her and Peter.’
My mind had stopped at the word spanking. I looked down at her, my heart racing and my face flushing red with shame. ‘A spanking?’ I repeated nervously.
‘Yes. I think you’ll remember it well, and it’ll teach you to behave yourself in future,’ she explained calmly.
I could think of nothing else to say, my mind had gone completely blank. My only thought was that I shouldn’t cry, that I would hold back the tears of confusion and horror that welled in my eyes. Jan patted her knees primly, and I understood that she wanted me to lie across them.
‘Skirt up, girl,’ she said briskly, in the no-nonsense voice which turned me into jelly.
Very slowly I hiked up my long loose skirt, lifting it higher, above the knee, over my bare thighs until it barely covered my knickers. My face had never been redder and I hardly dared to look at her, knowing that her eyes were eating me all up.
When I hesitated she grabbed my wrists and pulled me over her knee, balancing me on the end so I had to reach out to hold myself in place. She pulled my skirt up all the way, revealing my lacy white panties pulled tightly between by firm round bottom cheeks.
‘Is this going to hurt?’ I asked, stupidly. I had never been spanked before, not even as a child.
‘It wouldn’t be a punishment otherwise,’
Jan told me.
If I had anything else to say it was silenced by the sudden stinging on my behind. I squealed, shocked by the hard smack that fell on my right buttock. It hurt terribly, a sharp stinging on my flesh. I looked back and saw Jan’s hand raised high again. She brought it down hard on my backside. I bit my lip to hold back my cries. Again and again she raised her hand and brought it down hard, smacking with a sharp slapping noise that filled the room with its heavy rhythm.
Before very long my behind was alive with a red, smarting pain that seemed to ooze through my body. The feeling of abject shame and humiliation I felt worsened the burning sensation. I buried my face in the cushions on the sofa as Jan proceeded to give me twenty hard strokes with the flat of her hand.
‘I hope that in future you’ll behave yourself properly,’ Jan told me. Her voice had lost none of its venom and I knew she was still angry, and that made me feel worse – much worse.
‘I will, Jan, honestly I will,’ I promised tearfully.
She allowed me to stand up, and unzipped my skirt so that it fell in a bundle around my ankles. I knew that the redness of my behind was matched by the redness of my face as I stood in front of her, my backside quivering and stinging with the residual pain of so many bare hand smacks.
‘Turn round then, let me look at you,’ she ordered.
I turned round and she touched me, stroking her hand to my punished skin, over the lacy panties which had been pulled tighter into my body as I had been bent across her knees. She hooked a finger under the panties and began to inch them down. Instinctively I grabbed my knickers and tried to pull them up, and as I did so I nicked her skin with the sharpness of my long painted fingernails.
She slapped my hand sharply and pulled my panties down to my knees, exposing the roundness of my bottom to her view. She touched me firmly, pressing her fingers into the heat of my flesh. It felt good; the raw heat cooled down by the pressure of her fingertips, sending spasms of pleasure that pierced my body.
‘Look.’
She showed me her hand, a red mark across her first finger, where I had scratched her with my nail.
‘I’m ever so sorry,’ I whimpered.
‘Not sorry enough, obviously,’ she said. ‘Stay there.’
I didn’t have the heart to disobey. I felt miserable, the pain in my flanks had lost the sharpness and was now an ebbing warmth that was affecting me strangely. I was miserable, but excited also, and that made me feel nervous. Jan had walked across the room and was now returning. The slipper she held in her hand made my heart sink even lower for I knew I was to be punished again.
‘I said I’m sorry,’ I whispered, rooted to the spot and unable to move.
‘That’s all you’ve been saying all night.’
She sat back down. This time her skirt was raised high and I couldn’t help but stare at her lithe thighs, her skin as smooth as silk and tanned a pure gold. I went across her knees again, this time with my knickers around my ankles and my pink derrière completely on display. I clenched my backside, embarrassed by my nakedness, and certain that she was enjoying my shame in some way.
I turned in time to see her lift the heavy leather slipper, one of Peter’s I guessed. Her hand was poised for a moment and then came down swiftly, in a graceful arc that finished with a wicked smack on my bottom. This time I did not scream. I clenched myself again as the leather slipper was applied slowly and methodically by Jan. She beat me on both bottom cheeks, at the top of my thighs, between my thighs. The pain was incandescent as each blow was stroked onto my bared backside, first on one side and then the next, a pause between each stinging stroke.
Jan’s thighs beneath me were a torment; she felt warm and soft, and the rubbing of her skin on mine was driving me insane with pleasure at the same time as the pain on my sore round cheeks. The heat on my behind slowly merged with the heat in my belly until I didn’t know what was what, and all the sensations merged into one powerful feeling of excitement. My strength ebbed away, my thighs had parted and I was lifting my bottom to meet every downward stroke.
‘Well, well,’ Jan remarked, dropping the slipper beside me on the sofa. I winced when her fingertips made contact with my raw skin.
‘Don’t… please don’t…’ I begged as she stroked over the curves of my backside, and then over the groove between my buttocks and thighs. I was still over her knees and vulnerable, and she was exploring my body completely. I didn’t have the strength to stop her, no matter how much I tried to squeeze my thighs together.
Her fingers stroked between my thighs, teasing me deliciously. I caught my breath, held it and then sighed, unable to hide my pleasure. Her fingers teased into my body and touched me there, sending a million spirals of pleasure through my soul. I lifted myself, opening to her explorations.
‘Look,’ she said, offering me her fingers, coated with moisture from my sex.
I was overcome with shame; that which I had struggled to keep hidden was now apparent. She had spanked me and I had found pleasure in it, excited by my punishment and by the beauty of her body.
‘Please… Don’t tell Peter or Chris…’ I begged, sighing once more as she rubbed her fingers between my thighs, caressing my tight rear hole before entering my wetness again.
‘You have been a bad girl,’ Jan said, ‘and I’m sure the men are going to want to know all about it.’
‘Please, I’ll do anything,’ I wailed. I tried to lift myself but she used her hand to spank me hard, three swift strokes at the top of the thighs. I could do nothing, except take my spanking and listen to her.
‘You’ve always been a good girl,’ Jan told me, her voice becoming tender once more. ‘But today I saw a side of you I didn’t like, and I think it’s going to take a few more sessions before you’ve really understood what it is to be truly good. Like Delia, I think you need a firm female hand to keep you in place.’
‘Yes, Jan,’ I submitted softly.
‘Good. It’s still only Friday night. We’ve two days before the boys get back, that’s two days for me to straighten you out. Agreed?’
I nodded vigorously. My face was red again, but secretly I was thrilled. I didn’t know why, but I understood then and there that Jan wanted to help me. Besides which, I was starting to enjoy the discipline she had so adroitly administered.
‘Good. Now, up you get. I think it’s time for us to get to bed. You can clean up tomorrow.’
‘Yes, I will, I promise,’ I said. I stood up and bent over to pick up my skirt and clothes and she touched me again, running her hand over the length of my thigh and stroking my sore bottom cheeks. I accepted her touch with a smile, wincing only when she touched the sorest marks left by the slipper.
‘Right, I suggest you have a quick shower, and then I’d like a word with you in my room before you retire. Oh, and leave your clothes here, I think you should perhaps spend some time walking around like that, it’ll remind you of why you’ve been spanked.’
I accepted that also, without question. The shower sounded so inviting, and I skipped up the stairs feeling elated, happier than I had done for a long time.
The hot water soothed me, and as I soaped myself my body responded naturally, my nipples puckering as the water trailed down between my breasts. My backside was a haze of feeling, very warm and exciting, and I couldn’t help but touch myself where Jan had touched me. I felt deliciously sensual, and that pleasure I gave myself was complete bliss. I emerged from the shower feeling more refreshed than I had done for a long time.
Putting on a robe I went directly from the shower to Jan’s room, across the hall from the spare room that I was staying in. I was naked under the robe, by body tingling all over. I knocked hesitantly and waited for Jan’s answer before going in.
‘I just wanted to check your bottom before you go off to sleep,’ she explained, as though oblivious to my shy looks a
t her half naked body. She had undressed and was wearing only a lacy half-cup bra and black panties. There was no doubt that she looked after herself; her body was firm and well-proportioned, she had a firm stomach and breasts, and those incredibly long legs.
‘The pain’s not so bad, now,’ I told her.
She motioned for me to go over to where she was standing, in front of the mirrored doors of her wardrobe. She made me turn my back to them and then let the robe fall from my body. I turned and saw my nakedness reflected back to me, and my pink skin became a glowing red on my well-marked backside. The image excited me, my nipples hardening visibly as Jan watched.
‘Bend over,’ she ordered.
When I looked round I could see my nether regions exposed in the mirror, the tautness of my bottom pulling the bottom cheeks slightly apart, the dark crease between my thighs displayed fully. She touched me again, intimately caressing, her fingers teasing the labia apart to seek the juices of my body.
‘Tomorrow morning I shall expect breakfast from you,’ she informed me. ‘I’ll expect you to clean up the house and to arrange the repair of the coffee table. Understood?’
‘I will, I promise,’ I replied contritely.
‘Any infractions will be severely punished,’ she added.
‘I’ll do my best to be a good girl,’ I assured her, in deadly earnest.
‘Good. Now I want to leave you with something to think about,’ she said.
The belt whistled through the air and striped my backside forcefully. I had been lulled into a false sense of security, and I couldn’t help but cry out. She looked intent, and neither my cries nor my appeals for mercy were going to deflect her. Six hard strokes of the belt were applied, each biting cruelly into my already punished derrière. I could see my reflection, my bottom displayed to perfection while she chastised me expertly.
‘Now you can go to your room,’ she said, running a fingernail along one of the tracks raised on my skin.
A Strict Seduction Page 15