To Seek a Master (25 page)

By lunchtime she had evolved an entire ceremony, as elaborate as it was impractical, including the use of a temple of sorts
and
a large audience to witness her acceptance of his will. On a more realistic note, she had been enjoying the sight and feel of the marks left by his strap across her bottom, and was hoping that some sort of punishment would be involved, so that when she put her name to the document she was in the state of perfect surrender that came no other way.

After their meal Charles went back to work, entrusting Laura with the washing up, after which she went out to lie on the lawn. Before long she half asleep in the warm sunshine, only to be brought back to her full senses by the sound of Charles rearranging the crockery and cutlery she had just put away but evidently not in exactly the right place. When he came outside a moment later she instinctively rolled face down, offering her bottom to whatever he had in mind for her, but he contented himself with a remark.

‘I admit to liking my things just so, but having seen your efforts at putting crockery away I’m rather more inclined to accept your offer to be my pet.’

‘Woof, woof.’

‘Be careful, or you’ll be spending next weekend wearing a pair of big floppy ears and a tail. Right, in this envelope is a draft of our contract. I don’t want you to read it now. I want you to read it at home, sober, and you’re not to start fantasising over it and playing with yourself. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, Mr Latchley.’

‘I somehow doubt that, but I do at least know that you’re honest enough to admit it if you do get carried away. Seriously, it needs your careful attention, because once you’ve signed it becomes law.’

‘Is it legally binding?’

‘Our law, not the law of the land. Think of it as a business contract, valid only in so far as it’s subject to the law, but with you as the goods involved.’

‘Hmm … that’s quite sexy. There’s bit in
Brigands of Barbary
where the heroine is sold for three camels and a goat … ow! That was my thigh!’

‘Girls with bruised bottoms get smacked thighs, and thighs sting more, as you will learn. Now will you please listen?’

‘Yes, Mr Latchley. Sorry, Mr Latchley. Ow!’

‘Sarcasm, Laura.’

‘Sorry.’

‘That sounded a little more genuine. No, it’s not legally binding. It’s a private agreement between you and me. As you’re young, and not very experienced, we’ll review it after a month, and again at suitable intervals but, in between, it governs your behaviour. Can you accept that?’

‘Yes, as long as I’ve agreed to everything in it.’

‘Naturally.’

He put the envelope down on the grass beside her. Laura put her chin on her hands, her bliss now slightly marred by the prospect of parting and work the next day, yet there was no hurry, and no denying the message the faint tingle of her slapped thighs was sending.

‘I’m all yours, if you want me.’

22

IN HER FLAT
that evening, after a boisterous reunion with Smudge, Laura began to read the contract, face down on her bed while he busied himself with a yellow plastic duck he had found at Mrs Phipps’.

As she had expected from Charles the contract was long and detailed, leaving very little to chance. The essence of it was that she would be his. That meant accepting discipline, obeying his orders and having no secrets from him whatsoever. It also gave him complete access to her body, but subject to a few common sense conditions. She was also to dress as he pleased, but on the understanding that if he wanted some exotic costume it was his responsibility to pay for it, while she had an alternative available at all times, to go completely nude.

By the time she’d reached his description of how she might be expected to dress she was itching to put a hand down to her sex, but the next section proved to be a very dry assurance that he would not exploit her financially by taking her wages or insisting on her signing over her assets. The idea had never occurred to Laura, but she could see that it made sense, being designed to provide an assurance that his desire to own her was genuine and not simply a way of exploiting her nature.

There was a great deal more, much of which she felt could have been taken as read, and none of which she wanted to change. Charles was naturally thorough, something she’d only ever been able to achieve with a great deal of conscious effort, but more importantly he had taken her needs into account
as
carefully as his own. He had even included guaranteed limits to her discipline for the sake of health, something she was sure she would never have been able to consider once she was in the strange, ecstatic headspace brought on by punishment.

When it came to sex, she was to be his and his alone, something she would have taken for granted in any case, as an inevitable part of being in love, while to her relief he also gave an assurance of faith, although there was one crucial exception, an exception that put butterflies in her stomach. He could punish other women, if the situation arose, just so long as the encounter was not openly sexual and, far more importantly, she could be punished by other women in any way he felt appropriate.

The very thought made her shake, first bringing her thoughts back to Hazel Manston-Jones, and then to the implications of the agreement. Even to imagine being spanked to the sound of another woman’s disdainful laughter was almost too much, but to think of being put across the knee, on Charles’ command, her bottom exposed and smacked by some smug bitch was the last straw. Best of all, it could be Hazel herself.

Laura gave in to the inevitable. Bouncing onto her knees, she pushed her bottom up and slowly eased her pyjama trousers down over her cheeks as she let her imagination run tree. Hazel would come to the cottage, it didn’t matter why. She and Charles would get on well, too well, so that after an alcoholic lunch the two of them would be swapping happy reminiscences of how much fuss Laura made over a spanking. From there it would be a small thing for Charles to suggest that Hazel dish out the punishment Laura had earned that week.

She would protest, but it would be too late. The contract would have been signed and she’d have no choice. She’d be put
across
Hazel’s legs on the big leather sofa in Charles’ study, made to stick her bottom in the air, adopting the same exposed position she was in on her bed. Quickly she pulled her pyjamas back up, for the pleasure of easing them down again and imagining the agonising sense of shame that same exposure would bring with her body draped across Hazel’s lap as her knickers were pulled down.

That alone was more than enough to get her there, and she began to run the scene over and over in her head as she rubbed at herself and tried to ignore the plaintive squeaking of Smudge’s duck. Charles would be watching, amused by her reaction to Hazel, enjoying her shame as much as the sight of her bare bottom. He’d get his cock out, bringing himself erect in his hand as Hazel administered a firm, no nonsense spanking, making Laura squeal and writhe as her bottom turned red and her cheeks bounced to show off every intimate detail between. Worse still, she’d surrender her dignity completely, begging Charles to fuck her while Hazel held her in place, and with that thought Laura began to come, and to babble.

‘Yes, please … fuck me! Fuck my spanked bottom, Charles. Fuck me while she holds me. Fuck me!’

She was screaming as it happened, exactly as she had anticipated, her brain aflame with the image of how she would look as her sex filled; kneeling with her pyjamas pulled down and her bare bottom pushed high as she was mounted, the big cock pushed deep into her body, pumping frantically as she came in a long hard orgasm that seemed to last forever. Even when she was done she stayed as she was, her mouth curved into a little happy smile, content to be used and imagining how Charles would react if she confessed in the morning.

Over the next few days Laura fell into a pleasant, easy routine. When she admitted to her sin Charles told her he had already
guessed,
that for her honesty she would not be punished, and that she could have a dispensation as long as she continued to be truthful. She accepted happily, glad that it was out in the open. They discussed the contract over drinks in a pub near to Cambridge station, and Laura asked that the signing be made an event. Charles agreed immediately and they decided on the weekend after next as the ideal time.

On the Thursday morning she could not have been happier, leaving Charles at the station with a goodbye kiss and walking into EAS with her head full of erotic and romantic fantasies. Even the sight of Brian and Dave in the lobby didn’t dent her mood, and she greeted Mr Henderson with a cheerful good morning, only to realise that there was a yellow file on the desk, the colour used for disciplinary procedures, while the expression on his face was far from agreeable.

‘Is something the matter?’

‘Yes. I regret to say that a complaint has been made against you, Laura, by Christopher Drake at Maxwell-Boyce, and a very serious one. He claims that you offered sex in return for a better price on our 36,000 volt units.’

‘I did not!’

‘He claims you did.’

‘Well it’s not true!’

‘He claims otherwise, that you encouraged him to get drunk at the Horseshoes in Abbots Ripton and made it very clear that sex was available if he agreed to your terms.’

‘No!’

‘Think carefully, Laura.’

‘It’s not true.’

Mr Henderson gave a weary sigh.

‘He expected you to deny it, and therefore sent this. I do not approve of his actions, needless to say, but I do think you have some explaining to do.’

As he spoke he took something from the yellow file and pushed it forward across the desk, one of the photos taken in Sheringham. It was the very rudest, showing her posing against the cliff. Her bottom was pushed out with most of her cheeks bulging from the sides of her tiny bikini bottoms, the swell of her sex barely concealed beneath a minute triangle of scarlet material, the top pulled open to show off her breasts, her nipples stiff, her lips pouted in an insolent kiss.

‘The utter bastard!’

Mr Henderson gave her a moment for the full horror of her situation to sink in before he went on.

‘Do you still deny that you had sex with him?’

‘No, but … OK, I had an affair with him, but I wasn’t trying to bribe him. Anyway, that photo was taken on Sheringham beach, not at Abbots Ripton.’

‘Answer me truthfully, Laura. Did you offer sex to Christopher Drake when you met him at the Horseshoes?’

Laura hung her head.

‘Yes, we had sex, but it wasn’t a bribe.’

‘But you did have sex, with a client, on company time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Even leaving aside the issue of bribery, Laura, that would be grounds for dismissal, while I need scarcely remind you that you are already on a formal warning. I’m sorry, Laura, but I’m going to have to let you go. You can of course appeal, but Mrs Jeffries supports my decision. I doubt you would find much sympathy from a tribunal.’

‘But … please, wait a minute. He can’t … and anyway, what about him?’

‘That’s not our concern, and he indicates that if you are dismissed the matter need go no further.’

‘He can’t do that! That’s completely unfair.’

‘Fair doesn’t come into it, Laura. Look, off the record, this is all to do with company politics. The Maxwell-Boyce account is worth a great deal of money, and Christopher Drake is something of a golden boy with them, not to mention being the nephew of their CEO. You’ve been an excellent PA, but I really have no choice, because if we keep you on we will be obliged to contest his accusation, which will mean losing the account and a costly court case, not to mention becoming the laughing stock of the entire industry. Therefore, as I’m sure you would understand if you weren’t personally involved, you have to go. If you want to pursue the matter privately, of course, it is up to you, but I advise very strongly against it. I don’t know why Drake has chosen to make this allegation, or why he has waited so long to do so, but …’

‘I do. It’s his excuse so that he can keep his vicious bitch of a girlfriend!’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Hazel Manston-Jones. She caught us at it in Sheringham, and this way it makes him look as if I’m the one who tried it on, although if she believes him she’s a stupid bitch.’

‘Calm down, Laura.’

‘But don’t you see what’s happened? He’d been trying to sweet talk her out of dumping him because he was seeing me, and she’s stuck the knife in to make sure I get the sack.’

‘Can you prove this?’

‘No, of course not.’

Mr Henderson sat back in his chair, his hands spread in a helpless gesture.

‘I’ve been sacked.’

Charles didn’t answer, but immediately took her into his arms, indifferent to the commuters streaming past them
towards
the waiting train. Laura burst into tears, letting out all the emotions she had struggled to hold back during her interview with Mr Henderson and for the rest of the day as she tidied up her work, cleared her desk and as a final act engaged a temp from the very same agency who had put her forward for the job four years before.

Only when the train had started did Charles ease her gently down into a seat, directly opposite Darcy, whose presence was enough to embarrass her into digging into her bag for tissues. Charles waited until she had had a chance to tidy herself up before speaking.

‘Do you have to go into work tomorrow?’

‘No.’

‘Then come home with me.’

‘I can’t. Smudge …’

‘Then I’ll come home with you.’

‘OK. Thank you.’

Laura went quiet, resting her head on Charles’ shoulder and staring morosely out of the window at the passing countryside. With so many people around them, there was nothing to be said, but as the train picked up to full speed she was earnestly wishing that she had some way of magically transferring Christopher Drake to the rails in front of it. It was bad enough to have seduced her behind his girlfriend’s back, but surely he should have had the decency to let things be, instead of getting her sacked in order to try and patch up the relationship he had been so willing to risk for a bit of variety in bed. The thoughts remained with her, but only when they were back in King’s Lynn and walking by the river with Smudge bounding ahead did she admit to them, now more resentful than furious as she finished her explanation of what had happened that morning.