Reforming Little Anya

Reforming Little Anya

By

Rose St. Andrews

Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Rose St. Andrews

Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Rose St. Andrews

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

St. Andrews, Rose

Reforming Little Anya

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by Bigstock/Joop Snijder and Bigstock/Cheschhh

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

Chapter One

The Irukandji
jellyfish is a very small but very dangerous creature. It inhabits the waters off the coast of Australia, and its sting can be deadly. At the very least, it causes horrible pain for its victims that can last for weeks.

The middle managers at Globe-Corp called Jessica Alban ‘The Jellyfish,’ but
never
to her face! Not if they wanted to be spared some of her silly pranks. While only twenty-eight, Jessica was already a junior VP in the New Acquisitions division of the company, and with good cause. She was a certifiable genius, and also a certifiable nut job. While possessing a high IQ, she had an incredibly low EQ—Emotional Quotient. She was intellectually an adult and emotionally a child. Like the Irukandji, she was tiny, but deadly. Barely four and a half feet tall and just under a hundred pounds, at a distance, someone could easily mistake her for a child, but she was all woman and a mischievous imp of trouble!

Graduating college at fifteen, she immediately got an internship at GC and hired a driver; she never even bothered to get a driver’s license. Thus began her meteoritic rise. And yet, despite the ‘dead bodies’ lying at her feet, her hands always remained clean. Jessica was downright Machiavellian in her actions; she caused all manner of trouble at work by usually manipulating others. That was one of the reasons she was still employed with the company. The second was her boss, Kelly O’Brian, president of the division.

Kelly had been with the company since its inception. She was dedicated, personable, and an upstanding person—overall. Sure, she’d played office politics and had to claw her way to the top a bit. But, for the most part, she’d always been a square shooter. Now she was entering middle age gracefully, and she was looking around for someone to one day take her place. She was getting to that stage in life when family was becoming more important than work, and thus finding the right successor was critical. That was why Jessica still had a job with GC. Kelly had told Jessica she saw potential in her; she saw in her a younger version of herself. She’d even told Jessica how she’d made her fair share of trouble when she was Jessica’s age, but that she’d eventually matured.

The two of them were now flying to the Czech Republic to look over a prospective acquisition. They were, of course, flying first class, and Kelly said that it was the perfect opportunity to test Jessica to see if she was worthy of heading the division.

“Goodness, Jessica, the way you type into that thing, someone would think you were writing a novel. How do you type so fast?” Kelly said.

“Oh, it’s a gift,” she replied, grinning.

* * *

If only Kelly knew the contents of Jessica’s digital notebook. It was a veritable laundry list of naughty acts, a how-to on causing trouble. This day she was making notes about Kelly’s oldest daughter Emily, who was now eighteen and about to start college. Jessica hadn’t gotten into much trouble or had much fun in college—she’d been very young—but she at least knew some of the things college kids did. So, she made some notes about things to suggest to Emily. Nothing illegal or truly improper, but stuff that would get her into trouble if word of her shenanigans got out.

“Well, finish up your notes and get ready to land,” Kelly said. “The company has arranged for a car to drive us to the town. Do you have the file?”

Jessica put her iPad away and pulled out the thick file. “Got it right here. The area looks perfect for the resort. I think it could be a major moneymaker for the company.”

They reviewed the overview of the proposed bed and breakfast, and then stowed everything for landing. Once in Prague, they were picked up by the driver, and headed out into the picturesque countryside. Kelly clearly reveled in it, but Jessica saw none of it; she was too engrossed with more plans and plots.

Finally, they reached the quaint village and began walking around. It was a beautiful place, a peaceful town sort of lost in time, and nestled at the base of Mount Blaník. Moving along the narrow cobblestone streets, Jessica saw Kelly smiling from ear to ear.

“Would you look at this place, Jessica? My God, it’s absolutely lovely. Oh, the resort will fit in perfectly here, a nice boost to the local economy, and yet totally in keeping with their culture and social structure.”

Jessica sneered, but was careful to do it behind Kelly’s back. “Oh, yes, you’re so right.”

“Do you know the ancient legend about this place? It’s said an army of Czech knights, led by St. Wenceslas, sleeps in the mountain. The knights will wake and help the people when they’re in danger.”

“Really? That’d make a great selling point for the condo—for the inn.”

Jessica had to be careful. She didn’t want Kelly knowing about
her
idea for the resort. No, better to wait and spring it on her at the board meeting. When the board ate it up, Kelly would have no choice but to implement it. That would boost Jessica’s standing with the company, and diminish Kelly’s. Jessica didn’t care if the town was hurt by it. So long as her career was advanced, that was all she cared about.

By the time the shadows were growing long (even Jessica’s was tall), they’d looked over all the potential sites, and were getting tired. Between the walking and jetlag, they were both more than ready to head to the little inn where they had reservations. Stopping in the town square, they scanned the area.

Kelly rubbed her eye with the back of her hand. “Boy, Jessica, what a marathon. I’m beat. Come on, let’s call it a day.”

Jessica snapped a few pictures of the square, and of Kelly being fatigued. Yes, these would prove useful—later. “Sure, Kelly, just let me move to the other side of the square and get a few more shots.”

She did so, and a moment later the world ended. There was a rumble, a boom, and a flash.

* * *

It took most of the evening and even into the early morning to sort things out. A gas main under the square had ruptured. When the gas ignited, the ensuing fireball nearly engulfed the entire square. Fortunately, there were only two victims: an American woman and a Russian girl. The next morning, at the hospital, the staff tended to the two. Kelly, who spoke fluent Czech, awoke near noon, and asked about Jessica.

“There was no other woman found at the scene, ma’am,”
the doctor said.

Kelly gasped
. “Are you sure? She was right next to me!”

Between the burns to her left arm and face, her bumps and bruises, a firm knock on the head, and her fatigue, she’d forgotten the details of the final minutes before the blast. The doctor explained about the other victim and said he would ask the police about Jessica. Perhaps she was still in the square, buried in the rubble.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the next ward, Dr. Bronski reviewed the file for Anya, the Russian girl, even as Nurse Klinski changed the bandages across her stomach. The blast had mangled her long ebony hair, so they cut it into a short bob. Her face had been caked in dirt, so they washed it.

He held a clipboard that had her medical file and singed student ID.
“Anya, that’s all we know about her. Well, she’s very lucky, her clothes bore the brunt of the fire’s damage.”

“Yes, Doctor, it looks to be only a first-degree burn. Any word on her family?”

“I haven’t had time to check. I’ll file a report with the police, as soon as we’re done.”

“Oh, I think she’s waking up.”

* * *

Jessica felt as if she’d been hit by a train. Slowly, she lifted her head from the pillow, opened her eyes, and tried to focus on her surroundings. It took a moment for her to take stock of herself. She felt pain across her abdomen and below it. Then she saw the doctor and nurse standing over her.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“That’s not Russian,”
the nurse said.

“She speaks English,”
the doctor said.
“Ah, maybe her family was moving to America. I don’t know Russian, and my English is terrible. What about you?”

“I know a few words, but that’s all.”

“All right, I’ll try.
Ah, Anya, I doctor. You in hospital. Burned in… ah, gas boom. Where parents?”

Jessica sat up and tried to rub her stomach, and winced in pain. “Ow! Who’s Anya? I’m Jessica, Jessica Alban. American. Do you understand?”

“What’s this ‘Jekica Albany’ she’s talking about?”
Klinski said.

“I don’t… wait, Albany, I know, that’s a city in New York. That must be where she and her parents are going.
It all right, Anya, I call police. We find momma and poppa. You rest.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? I’m not Anya, you morons! Where are my clothes? I’m getting out—ouch,” she yelped, again feeling pain.

* * *

It took a bit of doing, and a shot of sedative, but they finally got her to settle down. After that, Bronski went to his office and called the authorities. Between his report and Kelly’s inquiries, the police and firefighters made a thorough search of the square. However, the blast was so massive, it had truly incinerated the square. No remains of any kind were found. That evening, Kelly wept at the thought of Jessica’s death, and Anya Holstein—the real one—and her parents boarded a plane for America. She was kind of sorry about losing her old student ID in that village they’d visited, but her parents told her not to worry, she’d have a new one soon enough.

* * *

Two days later things were better and worse. Kelly was feeling stronger and was about to be discharged from the hospital. She was going to go back to Prague to stay for a while, before flying home. She just couldn’t bring herself to stay at the inn where she and Jessica had reservations. Starting to pack, she sifted through her things and Jessica’s few items. Among them was her iPad. Picking it up, Kelly just sort of let her fingers play across its surface, slightly burned and pitted from the blast.

Did it still even work?

Then she remembered something: the Russian girl the doctor had mentioned. How was she doing? Kelly headed out the door and down the hall, and was soon approaching the next ward. As she didn’t know the girl’s name, she stopped at the nurses’ station to ask. While the nurse checked, Kelly again fiddled with Jessica’s iPad; what pictures had she taken before it happened? The blast had locked it in Open Access mode, no password was needed, and Kelly was able to pull up the photo album.

“Well, hello, a picture of me, and not a very complimentary one either. Hmmm, and what’s this, a journal?”

She started reading, and her jaw dropped.
Holy cow! That… that little bi…

The nurse, Nurse Klinski, interrupted her line of thought.
“Ah, here’s her file. Right this way, Mrs. O’Brian.”

Kelly blinked, came back to reality, and fell in behind the nurse, as she headed down the hall. As they approached the room, it was clear the occupant was fast asleep. Well, it wasn’t important for Kelly to speak to the girl, she just wanted to see how she was—

Holy cow!
Kelly slammed on the brakes and almost pitched forward.
It’s Jessica, she’s alive.
Reaching out, she grabbed the nurse by the elbow and pulled her back up the hallway.

Within the hour, Kelly had met with the doctor and the nurse, and given them the full rundown on the situation. She had an idea for what to do with Jessica. Nurse Klinski was in total agreement, but the doctor was hesitant. His Hippocratic Oath was tugging at his conscience.