The Bottom Line (7 page)

Her gasps were becoming more urgent as I pushed my stiff cock in to the hilt, using my hands to pull her hard back against my groin. Once fully embedded I paused briefly, catching my breath, then held her hips tight as I started to drive back and forth inside her deliciously snug rectum. For how long we fucked I have no idea, but my ejaculation was tumultuous when it finally came, Barbara clearly loved every second of it, and we were both sweating heavily when I eventually eased my deflating penis from her body.

Slowly she disengaged herself, lay back on the bed and looked up at me. Then she reached up and cupped my head, pulled me down to her and whispered, ‘Come on then, finish me off.'

The next few minutes passed as a blur. I remember licking her sex and I remember my tongue sliding inside her. I remember finding her engorged clitoris and sucking and licking it. And as she wearily recovered from her climactic effort, I remember the tears on her cheeks as I lifted my face from between her thighs.

I can't remember what we had for dinner that evening, but I know it was very good, that we had a bottle of a fragrant local rosé, and that we took a leisurely stroll through the village before going back to our room quite early. In bed we cuddled, totally at ease with each other, and fell asleep.

In the morning we took our time getting up, refreshed and relaxed, and went down to breakfast. The proprietor was standing at the entrance to the breakfast room, greeting his guests, and it seemed to me that there was more than just a twinkle in his eye as he bid us good morning and asked the usual question, ‘
Vous avez bien dormi
?'

 

 

 

‘How does she get away with it?' asked Terry.

‘What do you mean?' asked Billy.

Terry was a trainee manager of
Shopportunities
, and a former electronics technician to a computer company, while Billy was in charge of household goods. ‘She' was Justine, personnel manager in the same superstore, a lady of daunting proportions and equally daunting character.

‘I thought it was illegal to punish people, you know, like she does,' continued Terry, ‘and besides, why do the girls put up with it? Why don't they tell her to get lost, or refuse to take it? I wouldn't be surprised if one of them turned on her eventually.'

‘It would take more than one to handle Justine,' Billy commented. ‘You wouldn't catch me messing with her. Anyway, she's too careful and too clever.'

‘How do you mean, too careful and too clever?'

‘Well, to start with, she never punishes anyone without getting their permission. They'd rather face a tanning than get the sack.'

‘Yes, but even so,' interrupted Terry, but Billy cut in again.

‘She films them on close circuit TV,' he continued, ‘and makes sure they know all about it. Bear in mind she has access to the security cameras. And she's very good at knowing just when to stop, just when they can't take any more.'

‘How do you know all this?' asked Terry.

‘Because I used to go out with Caroline,' Billy explained, ‘and she got a tanning once. She said she was going to make sure it never happened again.'

‘Bloody hell,' said Terry, ‘did she show you the marks?'

‘Yes, she did as a matter of fact,' Billy admitted. ‘She'd had twelve with a leather thing. I think she called it a paddle, and you could see all the edges where she'd been hit.'

‘Bloody hell,' said Terry again, his vocabulary already stretched by these new concepts with which it was having to cope. ‘But I still don't understand why they take it,' he persisted. ‘Couldn't they get another job instead?'

‘Perhaps,' said Billy, ‘but the conditions here are very good. You think about it. We've got a good canteen with a decent choice of meals, all free. We have a social club with no membership fee. We've got the gym and sports facilities and we have a first class pension scheme. You'd be a fool to give all that up just to avoid a bit of discipline. Anyhow, that's what Caroline said. And she said it wore off by the next morning, so it wasn't really that bad, though she said Samantha couldn't walk properly for three or four days. She got the cane.'

This revelation was enough to bring a third ‘bloody hell!' from Terry, whose interest in the disciplinary procedures favoured by Justine was growing exponentially with each additional disclosure. ‘What happens to the videos?' he asked. ‘Have you ever seen any?'

‘As far as I know, nobody except Justine ever sees them,' Billy answered. ‘She keeps them as a sort of insurance policy and the girls know they'd be all round the shop it they ever tried to make a fuss about what had happened. But you can trust Justine - she doesn't cheat. She's a vicious cow and she's probably a bit kinky, but she doesn't cheat.'

Whether the three girls next in line for a taste of Justine's discipline would have agreed with such a charitable assessment was probably a moot point. Gail, Melody and, unknown to Billy, Caroline had been instructed to report to the gym at seven o'clock that same evening, and were not looking forward to their summons.

They were there, nevertheless, slightly in advance of the appointed hour, in the changing room awaiting the arrival of Justine, who walked in at seven o'clock precisely. Of medium height but powerfully built, with the aggressively prominent bust and hips that seemed often to be associated, however unfairly, with the truly butch, she was wearing a shell suit in subdued colours, with what looked like a remote control sticking out of the breast pocket.

‘Hm,' she began, ‘I'm glad to see you're all punctual. That's a point in your favour. Come on then, let's not hang about. The gym's all ready for you so get your clothes off.'

Caroline, an offender for the second time was not taken by surprise, and Gail began to peel off her jumper, but Melody had to be persuaded that Justine meant it.

‘Come on,' Caroline said, ‘don't be silly. We're not going to see anything we haven't seen before, and there are no men around.'

‘Perhaps she'd like it better if there were,' Gail suggested and began giggling, but she was quickly cut short.

‘That'll be enough of that sort of talk,' snapped Justine. ‘You can wrap yourselves up in towels if you're so sensitive, but it's a waste of time because they'll be coming off as soon as I get you in the gym.'

There were no further mutinous suggestions as the three girls divested themselves of their clothing, only Melody, much the most slightly built of the three, bothering with a towel. Caroline was tall and quite shapely, though less full in the bust than Gail, whose breasts swung smoothly with her every movement.

They walked into the gym where a box, assembled to its full height, a buck, contrastingly at its lowest level, and a stool had been placed close to the wall bars. There was also a small table, and placed upon it an assortment of weaponry.

‘Good,' said Justine. ‘Take off the towel, Melody, and put it on the floor over there, and then we can begin the preliminaries.' Melody did as she was told and moved self consciously to join her two colleagues. Justine turned to her.

‘I think we'll start with you,' she said, fishing the remote control out of her pocket and pressing a button. ‘Tell me your name, please.'

‘You know my name,' said Melody. ‘Why ask me such a daft question?'

‘I do advise you,' warned Justine, ‘to stop trying to cross me. I haven't told you yet what your punishment is, so you might just find it's even worse than you expected if you continue with your lip. Now tell me your full name.'

‘Melody Chilton,' came the answer.

‘And why are you here?'

‘Cheek to a customer,' Melody replied, ‘but I wasn't really cheeky. It wasn't my fault, it was the customer, she was so stupid.'

‘Spare me the excuses,' said Justine, ‘and please use my full name when you address me. Once more, what's your name and why are you here?'

‘Melody Chilton, Miss Dewberry,' said Melody, in a more subdued tone. ‘Cheeking a customer.'

‘Thank you,' said Justine. ‘Twelve strokes of the paddle, over the box.' She turned to Gail. ‘And your name, please.'

‘Gail Templeton, please Miss Dewberry.'

‘That's very good,' commented Justine. ‘And why are you here?'

‘Please, Miss Dewberry, I accidentally pushed a trolley into the new display and knocked it down.'

‘You did, didn't you?' said Justine. ‘And it took Terry Biggs and two of his moronic assistants half the morning to reassemble it, didn't it?'

‘Please, miss, I don't know,' mumbled Gail, but Justine had already started her next sentence.

‘Eight of the tawse, tethered over the buck,' she said, as she turned to Caroline.

‘Now you've been here before, haven't you?' she stated, noting Caroline's murmur of confirmation. ‘So you know the drill. Your name, please.'

‘Caroline Hough, Miss Dewberry,' Caroline answered submissively.

‘And your offence?'

‘I put a five pound note into my pocket instead of in the till, Miss Dewberry,' Caroline confessed, and continued before anything could be said to her. ‘It was a mistake, Miss Dewberry. I'm not a thief.'

‘I'm prepared to believe you this time,' Justine told her. ‘If I really thought you were a thief you'd have been sacked by now. All the same, you've been here before. Just remind me what it was last time and what you got.'

‘I missed a shift without phoning in,' Caroline said. ‘I got twelve with the paddle.'

‘Yes, I remember,' mused Justine. ‘And you took it very well, as I recall. But you won't get off as lightly today. This is your second offence, and if you ever pocket another note you'll be out without references. I think for today you can have six with the crop, up on the wall bars. Right girls, take up your positions.'

The girls walked slowly to their designated areas, Caroline standing by the wall bars, Gail leaning over the low buck so that her breasts hung invitingly on the other side, and Melody using the stool to climb onto the box and then lying facedown. Justine walked up to Melody first.

‘That's very good,' she said. ‘Now I want you to tell me what punishment you deserve for cheeking a customer.'

‘Please, Miss Dewberry, twelve strokes of the paddle.'

The answer was clearly the correct one and delivered in a manner considered suitable, as Justine nodded her satisfaction and walked across to Gail. The sight appeared to please her, as she walked around Gail two or three times and studied her from several different angles. ‘And your punishment, young lady?'

‘Eight strokes of the tawse, Miss Dewberry.'

‘That is correct. And are you ready?'

‘Yes, Miss Dewberry,' the girl muttered, her reply almost inaudible. She was expecting to be struck at any moment.

‘I can't hear you,' Justine crisply snapped. ‘I asked if you were ready.'

‘Yes, Miss Dewberry, I think so,' Melody repeated.

‘Well, I don't think so,' Justine said thoughtfully as she considered the girl's position. ‘I said tethered. Lean right across the buck and stretch your arms as far as you can towards the floor.'

Gail did as instructed, whereupon Justine took her wrists and secured them with two leather straps, which were fastened around the legs of the buck so that the target was stretched as tautly as possible over the padded top.

And finally it was Caroline's turn. ‘Now then,' Justine said, ‘I want you to climb up to the third rung of the bars.' Caroline did as she was told, and Justine continued. ‘Now stretch your arms as high as you can and grip the very highest rung you can reach.' Again Caroline did as she was told. ‘What is your punishment to be?'

‘Six strokes of the crop, miss,' Caroline meekly replied.

‘It is indeed,' Justine confirmed. ‘But when it's your turn to be punished you will step off the lower rung and support yourself by your hands alone. Is that clear?'

Caroline gulped. ‘Yes, Miss Dewberry.'

‘If you need to have your wrists secured to help you hold on, that will be possible. On the other hand, if you can take five strokes without releasing your grip you will be spared the sixth stroke. Is that equally clear?'

‘Yes, Miss Dewberry,' said Caroline again.

‘Very good, girls,' said Justine, turning back into the centre of the gym. ‘Now the order will be as follows. Six strokes to Melody first, and then four to Gail and three to Caroline. Then the last six to Melody and the fast four to Gail, and we'll all witness whether Caroline can get away with only five strokes.'

Once more she took out the remote control and pressed a button on it, then walked purposefully towards the table, collected a stiff leather paddle about twenty centimetres long, climbed upon the stool and looked down at the prostrate form beneath her gaze. Melody's figure would never have been described as voluptuous, but her bottom stuck invitingly into the air.