The Carrot and the Stick (22 page)

Celeste made a moue of protest and with a swirl of her skirt sat down again with a thump. ‘So what did you want to tell me?' she asked, taking the photographs and putting them to one side.

‘Now that Natasha is away in the country for a couple of days of strict training,' Beth started, and both girls gave an exaggerated shudder at the thought, ‘I want to use this place for work tomorrow evening and I need your help.'

‘Sounds like fun,' Celeste said, wriggling with pleasure, quite forgetting her annoyance about the camera. ‘How can I help?'

Beth smiled at her. ‘I want you to be Charlie again.'

‘Yippee!' Celeste cheered. ‘I'm quite getting to like Charlie.'

Beth explained about Chester Hampton, that he was a valuable potential client and she was doing her best to win his business. ‘He likes games,' Beth said, reminding the younger girl about the night they spent in the hotel suite in central London. ‘I thought we might use this place tomorrow for a charade.'

‘With me as Charlie,' Celeste said.

‘With you as Charlie in a mask,' Beth confirmed.

Celeste whooped with delight. ‘A masked play,' she said eagerly. ‘Let's plan it now.'

 

At eight the following evening, Chester Hampton stood outside the door of the flat checking the number. It was the right flat. He checked his watch. It was the right time. He recalled Beth's somewhat confusing instructions; it was Candy's flat but Candy would not be Candy, she would be Abigail, and she would be there with a ‘friend'. The front door would be unlocked and he should enter and join in any activity or game he found going on.

So he turned the handle and went inside.

 

One end of the sitting room, the end where Chester Hampton sat, was dark, whereas the other end of the room was brightly lit. Abigail, dressed as a maid, wore a sexy black dress, the short skirt of which just reached the tops of her shapely thighs, black stockings and shoes and a tiny white apron. On her face was a cat mask and in her hand a feather duster.

‘I must get this done,' she murmured, flicking the duster at the bookcase, ‘Mr Hampton will be home soon.' She leant over to pick up a bit of fluff on the carpet, revealing tight black knickers stretched across a pair of saucy buttocks. ‘He's so strict with me, I mustn't get in his bad books.'

She flitted around the room, bending and stretching, totally absorbed with the task in hand, oblivious to all else. When she was bending with her back to the door, a figure entered silently. The intruder was slimmer, with short fair hair and wearing a dark trouser suit and also a mask. The newcomer approached the maid silently from behind and smacked her proffered bottom. The maid squealed and turned to confront the intruder.

‘Oh, Charlie,' the maid said when she saw who it was, ‘what are you doing? Mr Hampton will be home soon. You shouldn't be here.'

‘Well he's not here yet, so give me a kiss,' Charlie said, taking the maid into his arms.

The maid pushed him away angrily. ‘You'll get me into trouble. Remember if Mr Hampton finds you, you're my brother. Now leave me alone and let me get on.'

She tried to continue the dusting but was pestered at every step by Charlie. As she reached to dust a picture he cupped and squeezed her breasts. When she bent down to the wastepaper basket he deftly pulled aside her knickers, revealing soft pink flesh and a shadowed cleft.

As she moved he followed, insinuating a hand between her legs. Relenting, the maid stopped, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply and passionately, but when he reached behind to grasp her bottom, pulling her even closer, Abigail pushed him away.

‘Cool down,' she said. ‘Better still, go away.'

But instead of leaving, Charlie lounged in an armchair, making himself at home.

‘Well, occupy yourself with a book, or something,' the maid said. ‘I've got to clean the bedroom.' As Charlie looked around, the maid added, ‘But don't touch those in the bookcase with the glass doors. They're Mr Hampton's special books. He keeps a cane hidden behind them, to use on anyone who breaks his rules.'

As soon as he was alone, Charlie opened the bookcase and began to read the titles of the books from the spines. When he found one he liked, he pulled it out and opened it. It was a large book with full-page illustrations. As Charlie turned the pages slowly, studying each picture with rapt attention, he shifted uneasily in the chair. After a moment or two, with the book open on his lap with a particular picture on display, he pushed one hand down the front of his trousers. The cloth emphasised rather than concealed the slow, rhythmic movement of the hand beneath. Charlie had his head back and he began to pant.

‘What the hell do you think you're doing?' Chester Hampton demanded, entering into the spirit of proceedings.

Charlie leapt to his feet, and the book clattered to the floor. ‘I-I'm sorry,' he stammered. ‘I'm your maid's brother. I was just waiting for her.'

‘I don't give a damn who you are,' Hampton said. ‘You were reading one of my private books.' With his toe, he touched the volume lying open on the floor. ‘The penalty for that is a severe caning.'

Hampton reached into the bookcase and found the cane, four feet of hard bamboo. ‘Bend down,' he commanded.

Just then the maid hurried into the room. ‘Please sir, don't beat him,' she begged. ‘I didn't realise you were home. He's my brother.'

‘That makes no difference to me,' Hampton retorted. ‘I'm still going to thrash him.'

‘But it's my fault,' the maid pleaded.

‘Did you tell him to read my books?' Hampton asked.

She shook her head.

‘Did you tell him
not
to read my books?'

She nodded.

Hampton swept the cane through the air. ‘In that case there's no reason to change my intention.'

The maid grasped the hand holding the cane. ‘He's not really my brother, sir. He's my lover. If you are going to punish anyone it should be me.'

‘It will be you after him,' Hampton snapped. ‘The nerve of you, using my home as a clandestine meeting place. I can imagine what you get up to when I'm not here.' He turned to Charlie. ‘Remove your trousers and underwear and bend down.'

Slowly Charlie took off his shoes, socks, trousers and underpants and bent down in front of Hampton, with his hands on his knees. With the end of the cane Hampton flipped up his shirttail and tapped Charlie's legs apart. He whistled quietly under his breath as he studied his victim.

‘Take all your clothes off,' he said.

When Charlie stood in front of him, naked apart from her mask, her pubis shaved and her breasts firm and cherry tipped, Hampton said, ‘You try to deceive me, on top of everything else. You will get double the number of strokes for that - double strength.'

When the maid cried, imploring him not to carry out the punishment, Hampton turned on her. ‘Oh yes,' he said, ‘for you too. This... this female is your lover, you say? It is unnatural. You are lesbians and you are deceivers. It is right that you are severely punished. I shall enjoy administering it but not until you each have had a turn.'

He ordered the maid to strip but to leave on her shoes, stockings and suspender belt. When she had done so, he made her sit down and take Charlie across her lap. ‘Now you will spank your lover, as hard as she deserves,' he said, adding that the softer the spanking, the harder would be the caning that followed.

The maid needed no second bidding. She spanked until her hand hurt and until Charlie's buttocks were bright red and she was squealing with pain. Then it was Charlie's turn, and she too spared no mercy, spanking even harder in return. The maid's bottom, deliciously framed by the suspender belt and stocking tops, quivered delightfully with every stroke. By the time Hampton stopped them, every visible inch of Abigail's flesh was a burning scarlet.

‘Now for the real thing,' he said. ‘Who's first?'

‘I... I'll take a double dose if you'll spare my friend,' the maid said meekly.

Hampton laughed briefly. ‘Very noble,' he said. ‘And for such unselfish behaviour, I shall take you second.'

He made Charlie bend over the back of the sofa, and the maid to kneel the other side, holding her friend by the wrists. ‘I am going to beat you for deceiving me, for disobeying my orders and for being a dirty little girl who plays with herself.' The maid watched with wide eyes as he positioned himself behind Charlie, cutting the cane in the air.

As each stroke landed with a meaty crack across Charlie's bottom, the maid could feel the girl's hands clench inside her own, and see the tears that sparkled in her tormented eyes. She sobbed continuously and hung her head, resigned to her fate.

‘You may kiss her better and then change places,' Hampton finally announced, noticeably panting with the effort of caning Charlie.

With her friend still draped over the back of the sofa, Abigail went around to the other side and fell on her knees in front of the cruelly striped bottom. Tenderly she kissed the stripes, trying to draw out the pain with her soft lips.

After a moment or two, Charlie straightened up and walked a little stiffly around the sofa as the maid took the position she had vacated, the fabric of the sofa already warm under her belly.

‘A double dose,' Hampton said. ‘That seems only fair for a slightly plumper bottom.'

The maid said nothing, but clasped Charlie's hands firmly with her own. She gasped as the first stroke landed with force across the middle of both buttocks and she was crying freely by the time the last stroke cut across the top of her thighs.

As Hampton dropped the cane, Charlie rushed around and started kissing the maid's bottom, placing a cool cheek on the burning flesh. Apparently oblivious to Hampton, she ran her tongue along the last weal until it met and lingered on the sweet lips peeking between Abigail's thighs.

Hampton, who had picked up the discarded book, looked up from the picture on the page that Charlie had been studying to the two girls in front of him. ‘This gives me an idea,' he said.

He made the girls stand up and study the picture with him. It showed two naked girls making love. One was lying on the floor on her back, her legs apart. The other was kneeling over her, also with her legs apart. Each girl had her head buried between the other's thighs; each had a pink tongue against the other's red cleft.

‘This is what you like, so this is what you shall have,' Hampton said.

He made Abigail lie on her back on the floor, with her legs apart and her knees raised. She wriggled as the tender flesh of her bottom touched the carpet. The maid still wore her mask, suspender belt and stockings. Charlie was naked apart from her mask. With her back to Hampton, she straddled the maid, her bottom in the air and her head lowered to the warm sex exposed and inviting in front of her. Instinctively and without further instruction, the girls placed lips to lips and started licking each other.

Hampton watched intently as he undressed. When he was totally naked, he too knelt by the maid's head, his penis just inches from her tongue as it disappeared inside her friend.

Arching his body over Charlie, he slid his erection between Charlie's vagina and the maid's tongue and began to slowly pump so it was warmed and wetted by each. Then he withdrew, took the maid's hands and placed them on Charlie's pink and purple bottom. ‘Open it for me,' he said.

The maid, licking her friend again, gently pulled Charlie's sore buttocks apart to allow Hampton free passage. As both girls increased the pace of their licking, issuing wet gurgles and gasps, Hampton thrust into Charlie's tight rear passage and started to pump slowly back and forth. This movement pushed Charlie's vagina harder against the maid's mouth, and Abigail thrust even deeper with her tongue as if trying to lick Hampton inside her friend.

The gasps turned to moans and the moans to cries as all three chased their climaxes together, and when their climaxes arrived, they came as a single explosion. With a satisfied sigh Hampton collapsed with his full weight on Charlie, and the two slumped onto Abigail.

When Hampton finally raised his head, he saw the maid's mask had slipped off, and he saw that the maid, the ‘model' who'd been photographed being spanked and enjoyed fantasy games under the names of Candy and Abigail, was in fact the star of Cross, Carstairs and Denton - Beth Forrester herself.

 

 

 

‘You look well. The country must have done you some good.' Richard Cross looked admiringly at Natasha. She did indeed look well, her pale skin tinted by the sun, and her cheeks gently flushed. The evening sun flooding through the window of his office turned her soft black hair into a lustrous dark gold.

‘Thank you, I do feel rested,' she said.

‘Rested? I'm not certain that's such a good thing. You didn't go to the country for some R and R.'

Richard Cross was, as usual, seated behind his desk. Beth lounged on the sofa with her feet up. It was Friday evening, after all, and the staff had finished work for the week. Natasha sat in an easy chair by the window, with a red folder on her lap.