by C. P. Hazel
Actually I’d never seen her look more serious. My confidence was seeping away. I knew what would inevitably come next.
‘You’ll do exactly as I say, young lady.’
I can’t understand what followed. Maybe it was that sharp tone of command I’d last heard all those years ago. When we heard it as kids Alec and I knew we were in for a leg smacking. It was quick and sharp, two or three frantic slaps while she gripped us by the shoulder, just a reminder that we had overstepped the limit. And so, she felt, she had the right to do likewise.
This time it would be something a little more severe, I reckoned. But I was as big as she was now. So exactly why was my mouth so dry?
Anyway, the last spanking had been a lot of fun. Perhaps this would bring back memories of that hot back room with Spiro. Only a few days ago: how I’d longed to repeat it, even though my bum was sore the next day and I had to wear shorts rather than bikini pants. When I eventually plucked up the courage to return to the shop the assistant said Spiro was out of town for the day. I thought she smirked as she said it - in perfectly flawless English - but maybe it was my imagination.
You’ll no doubt be glad to hear that the walloping I got from her couldn’t have been more different. As you would expect. You wouldn’t? Like I said before, for an agony uncle you’re a horny bastard.
She grabbed me by the wrist, managing to catch me totally off balance. With a shriek I fell across her well-covered thighs, breaking my fall with one hand. Now any remaining sleepers must be fully wakened, I remember thinking with dawning horror.
I wore some baggy beach shorts that had captured my heart with their bright, fruity colours. They were very thin cotton and underneath them all I had on was a cotton thong. Not very effective protection against the calloused hands of the aunt. I knew she was itching to spank me, but I reasoned it would be just as undignified to struggle as to stay put and take it. I miscalculated there. She started slapping me with a cupped palm, making a really gross clop-clop noise. Like an enthusiastic cook tenderising steak.
‘There, young lady. This is going to jog your memory on something you seem to have forgotten about recently. Respect. Respect for your elders and betters.’
God, she’d totally flipped. Obviously I’d not made enough allowance for the effects of recent bereavement. More clops punctuated her speech. Luckily they didn’t hurt much but, raising my head, I could see that heads were popping up all around us. One woman tugged at her partner, who was still asleep on a banquette.
‘Aunty, for God’s sake, that’s enough!’ A small attempt at struggling convinced me she had me pretty well anchored with a hand between my shoulder blades.
‘Enough for you, maybe. But not nearly enough for me, niece.’
‘I’m not your real niece. You have no right to do this.’
I realised straightaway how pathetic that sounded. She stopped and I heard her rooting around in a shopping bag made of pink plastic on the seat beside her. All her immediate necessities were in there. For all I know, she kept a change of knickers in there handy for emergencies.
‘Somehow I think you’re about to pay much closer attention to what I’ve been saying to you, young lady. Whether or not you’re truly my niece.’
She had found what she was looking for, but it was behind me, out of sight. I was not kept in ignorance for long. The next stroke was a sharp, resounding slap, unmistakably the sound of the impact of a hard, flat surface. It came quickly again before I’d had time to appreciate the full fiery sensation on my scantily clad arse.
‘Ow! No more, aunty, that really hurts!’
‘You think I didn’t mean it to? No lesson is well learned without some pain to aid the memory.’
Slap, slap; slap, slap. Remorselessly Aunt Sophie applied the hairbrush to my cheeks one at a time. I struggled to be free, but now she had me by the hair, pulling my head up but forcing the rest of me down against her knees. This demonstration of her punishment prowess was starting to gain us quite an audience.
‘Ouch! Stop it. I’m serious, Sophie! That’s enough, okay?’
‘Oh, no it isn’t. You’ve still a lesson to learn. You’re going to learn some humility, and you’ll thank me for it. Eventually.’
With this she tore the cotton shorts down over my buttocks. They were exposed for all to see, glowing beetroot. I’m sure I heard a gasp in the ensuing silence, but this time it wasn’t me. I remembered how they looked in Spiro’s shop and how proud I felt then. Now there was only the humiliation.
‘Twelve on the bare is what you’re going to get.’
Struggle as I might, I couldn’t wriggle free. What are you laughing at? She had me under her arm and dug her elbow in hard if I tried to raise myself.
Whack, whack, whack. This time they sounded like pistol shots and a crowd was gathering around us. My God, the humiliation! What was I to do?
Luckily, just as the bitch aunt completed her dirty dozen our flight was announced. People began drifting away. Aunt Sophie used the hairbrush for its intended purpose as I hastily made myself decent again. And yes, I wore sunglasses all through the flight home.
And, do you know, she didn’t refer to the incident once during the four-hour flight, and she hasn’t referred to it since. It’s as if it never happened, as if it was all a sick fantasy.
Just try repeating that to me, pal. Now how was your holiday?
The Incident at Purple Pros
‘You stupid old cow! Frig off and leave me alone!’
I heard Tammy’s shriek above the thumping of the machines as soon as I came in the door. I would have been aware anyway from the girls’ expressions that something was wrong. An employer has to have an instinct for that kind of thing, especially with an all-female work-force.
‘How dare you speak to me like that, you cheeky little tart! Tomorrow you’re out the door. You’re finished here, believe me!’
What I didn’t expect to hear was Jess’ strident tones issuing from my partitioned office in the far corner of the print works. I could see her, dressed in crimson, through the open slats of the venetian blinds I used to screen my office from the shop floor when I felt like privacy. Half-hidden was the much slighter figure of Tamara, universally known as Tammy. She was my young PA who, in only six months, had shown evidence of a sound business sense.
Jess kept out of my way these days even though she was still a major shareholder in Purple Pros, our all-women screen-printing business. Our fling had finished last year, but she still kept some of her stuff in my flat. Neither of us had found a steady partner yet, so we still met for mutual support.
Although she was loaded, Jess had an inferiority complex to more than match her bank balance. Life outside Purple Pros (her choice of trading name: at least it meant we received plenty of telephone enquiries!) should have helped me unwind from entrepreneurial stress. But that was impossible with Jess and her uncontrollable compulsion to meddle until she got her own way.
Without a doubt she would be behind the catfight that was causing havoc with the work rate at this very moment. If this went on much longer, most of the point of sale cards for the local supermarket would be badly inked and worthless.
‘Okay, girls, minds on the job! I’ll sort this out, Arlene.’ I peeled off my faux-leopardskin coat en route, addressing my anxious production manager in what I hoped was a confident manner. The lunch with a promising new customer had gone on considerably longer than planned. I was aware my mind was far from crystalline.
I pushed open the door to my office and glided in, relieved to be able to shut out the chemical ink vapours that tainted everything in the workplace: hair, clothes, food, you name it. This was despite a fortune invested in powerful air handling plant. Usually this was my inner sanctum, but not today. The two of them were still squaring up across Tammy’s desk and it looked as if claws would be unsheathed any second.
‘There you
are, Jo. About time, too!’ Jess wheeled round, determined to play the role of financial hotshot and pull some rank on me. So she lost any support I might have given her with that remark.
‘Hello, Jess. This is a surprise, honeypot. I’ve just been lunching a potential order.’ We brushed cheeks ritualistically. ‘Anything urgent for this afternoon, Tammy?’ I turned in her direction.
Normally sweet and sensible, my straw-haired Tammy was transformed. Her usually placid manner had been severely ruffled in the attempt to handle Jess. Her sleepy grey eyes now flashed and her cheeks burned. My heart gave a flip. Add those rosebud lips and a retrousse nose and her angry appearance had more urchin charm than ever. She shook her head silently and bit her lip.
There was a short silence. I took the opportunity to hang up my coat and ditch the fancy tote bag, which weighed a ton. Then I took a seat.
‘Well, you two, I take it there’s been a bit of a disagreement.’
‘I’ll give you the full details once your secretary has left the room,’ Jess snarled sotto voce, tossing her long, auburn mane out of her eyes. Despite being well into her thirties she dressed flamboyantly and knew she could turn heads, both male and female.
‘Tammy is my PA. Purple Pros does not have a secretary on the premises, as you well know, Jess. She’s also a management trainee and this office happens to be where she works.’
I sensed Jess stiffen. Now she knew she had rather more of a fight on her hands than she had bargained for. She perched one buttock on the edge of my desk, leaning towards me in a confidential manner.
‘Whatever you call her, Jo, I can think of only one name that fits - a little brown-noser.’
I had no chance to find out what she was getting at. Showing more agility than I had imagined her capable of, Tammy flew over the curling carpet tiles to land a stinging slap across the face of her accuser. I sensed a communal gasp from the rapt audience beyond the glass.
The change in Jess’ expression was so sudden as to be almost cartoon-like. She glared at me, cupping her burning cheek in one hand, daring me to betray even a ghost of a smile.
‘Tammy, cool down,’ I said. ‘I’ve never seen you in such a state before. Let’s have those blinds closed and lock the door. It’s beginning to resemble Punch and Judy in here.’
Obediently Tammy went round the two glass walls, closing each set of blinds with a gentle tug of the cords. Suddenly it felt cosier. I turned to Jess, who had now begun to reassert her self-control. ‘Come on, honeypot, spill the beans. What exactly is going on?’
Jess glared at Tammy’s attractive back view but refrained from any more name-calling. She began to tell me what had happened. To cut a long story short, she had just popped into the flat that morning to pick up something. Since she was still paying half the mortgage I hadn’t asked her to return her set of keys. So in she breezed and, of course, had to take a peek at everything.
This was how Jess found Tammy’s birthday card to me stuck on the pinboard in the kitchenette. Two adorable puppies in matching bows. I just couldn’t take it down. And it showed a side to Tammy that she rarely let out when she was at work.
The birthday was almost a month ago, so I had put my other cards away in a drawer, including the one from Jess, an ostentatiously arty number in which she had scribbled a load of nostalgic mush. Perhaps understandably, she had flown to an immediate conclusion about Tammy and me. As it happened, she was way ahead of the mark; but, in a perverse sort of way, her words set me wondering.
Jess’ breathless account eventually drew to a close. She had come straight here in a jealous rage, expecting to have it out with me. Instead, she found Tammy efficiently handling the business in my absence. So she staged a scene, threatening the girl with exposure and dismissal. The whole thing must have been a bombshell for my PA, since we had never discussed our sex lives or anything in that area. Frankly, we both had too much on our minds during the working day.
The phone rang, making us all jump.
‘Say I’ll call back later then take it off the hook,’ I instructed Tammy.
I thought hard while Tammy took the call. I was not my usual decisive self after that heavy lunch at Pedro’s. It was hard to concentrate on how to deal equitably with this situation. Both of them had overreacted. Jess had plunged in and made totally groundless and pointless accusations. Tamara should not have reacted so impulsively but she was young and probably felt threatened.
It was up to me to find a solution that seemed just to both sides. I certainly didn’t want to sack Tammy. On the other hand, Jess and I went back a long way and her investment was keeping the business out of overdraft. They were both standing facing me like errant schoolgirls with scowling expressions, while Jess had the fetching addition of one burning cheek only half-hidden by her long hair.
I pushed my reclining chair back a little and picked up the em-rule from its habitual position on the desk beside my PC. It was a steel ruler just over a foot long, marked off in traditional printer’s em units. Why I kept it I don’t know, since it was a relic of a bygone era. All type layout was done on screen these days.
But then, as I slid its engraved surfaces between finger and thumb, I thought maybe it had a use after all. The two of them had behaved like schoolgirls, so that was just how I would treat them. In retrospect, I put the events of that afternoon down to the lingering effects of a heavy Chilean claret, but at the time I only saw how I could defuse the situation. And also indulge myself into the bargain. I cleared my throat and sat up straight.
‘Now listen hard, both of you. I can’t have this kind of catfight going on here. For a start, it disrupts production and, secondly, this is my office as long as I run the business. So I need to make an example of you both.’
‘You surely don’t mean to punish us?’ Jess asked with a hint of sarcasm. ‘I don’t see why anything I’ve done should need to be accounted for.’
‘That’s exactly what I intend doing. Look a bit harder at yourself, Jess.’ I could feel my confidence growing as I sensed a way of getting even with her for the months of mental torment she put me through when we lived together. ‘You’re supposed to be a director of this company. You come bursting in here, causing consternation to the work-force and upsetting Tammy over some fantastic notion you’ve picked up.’
She opened her mouth but I cut in quickly.
‘And Tammy, what you did was inexcusable. No, I’m afraid an apology is insufficient and too late. I have high hopes for your career in management but self-control is an essential quality. So you need to be taught a lesson, too.’
I paused for breath. They were clearly puzzled at what was coming next. Did either of them have an inkling of what I was about to say? I slapped the steel rule into my palm, and I noticed Jess’ jaw drop open slightly.
‘You can see what I’ve got in my hand. And from what I’ve just said, you must both realise your behaviour was childish. I propose punishing you in just the way children used to be punished. Six sharp strokes on the buttocks for each of you and then we’ll forget all about it. Otherwise...’
‘This is preposterous!’ Jess exclaimed. ‘I’m not going to take this from you, Jo.’
‘In that case, I want my front door key returned right now.’
She went silent. Tammy looked thunderstruck, but then she looked across at Jess, a smile playing at her lips. The little minx was always quick to grasp a situation.
I looked them both in the eye and neither found anything to say for a few seconds. Tammy was clearly taken aback at the idea of being made to take corporal punishment, but she was probably weighing up the alternatives. She was the first to find her voice.
‘On the bare arse with that?’
‘Yes. It will sound worse than it feels. Nobody will hear above the machine noise. As long as you don’t yell the place down.’
I faced her without a smile, although inwardly I was willi
ng her to accept.
‘Okay, just six,’ she whispered, looking down at the floor. My heart skipped a beat.
‘You will both be treated equally with regard to the severity of the punishment, and each will watch the other receiving it. Now if you’re ready, Tammy, I think you should go first.’
I stood up and removed my jacket. I swivelled the soft leather chair around so that its back was secure against the edge of my desk.
It was up to Tammy to make the next move. Giving me a brief, quizzical look, she slipped out of her mules and unzipped her jeans. Sitting on the edge of her desk, she pulled these off, revealing a pair of long, shapely legs.
She now wore only a light, tummy-length blouse and blue satin briefs which, as she turned to place the jeans on her desk, turned out to be very brief.
‘Those come off,’ Jess snapped. ‘You said bare bottom and that means a total strip below the waist.’
Tammy shot her a poisonous look. But then she looked in my direction. I nodded and, noting my reaction, she gracefully slipped the skimpy satin garment down to the floor and stepped out of it. Quickly she moved past Jess to the chair where I was waiting. I noted with satisfaction that her sparse pubic hair was exactly the same shade of straw.
‘Do I kneel?’ She looked me straight in the eye with a ghost of a smile.
I felt my mouth going dry in anticipation. ‘Lean over and rest your weight on the desk top. Now arch your back so I can get a fine view of your bare bum.’
Her fair-skinned body looked especially vulnerable against the dark leather. Her physique was supple and she did it beautifully. By bending over her I was able to savour the faintly acrid fragrance of her sex.
‘Are you ready?’
She turned and nodded. Tammy continued to look over her shoulder as I raised my hand to give her the first. It was more gentle than I had intended, and Jess noticed.
‘Harder, Jo. The girl is supposed to feel she’s being punished.’
The second and third strokes were more wristy, but still Tammy kept looking. On the fourth, which I delivered with some muscle, she flinched and turned to face the front. I noticed her petite rump was mottling over with angry red blotches. On the fifth stroke she let out a gasp and waggled her hips like a cat about to pounce.