It was mid-December when Helen was told that she had been assigned to work directly
for a Senior Partner, in fact the founder’s son, Bob Hunt, for a couple of weeks. He was
doing a proposal for a firm of wholesale and manufacturing stationers some two hundred
miles north, and she would have to travel up on the Monday morning and back on Friday for
both of the weeks she would be there. Naturally the company provided hotel accommodation
and it was no surprise that it was a good hotel, because she would, of course, be staying
in the same hotel as the Senior Partner.
It never occurred to Derek that Bob had an ulterior motive for this assignment, but
Helen thought her career prospects would come to no harm by working with a Senior Partner.
She didn’t think about it too closely, but she knew she was willing to work hard and to
make herself very pleasant to this boss if it helped towards promotion.
Helen had caught Bob’s eye on the induction course, and he had been instrumental in
having her selected for hiring when she had been comfortably down in the bottom quarter of
the intake on evaluation. Her intelligence was not in doubt; no one below genius level
was on the course in the first place. It was her lack of initiative which had counted
heavily against her, as had her tendency to blush a lot. Bob, on the other hand, thought
these charming traits. He liked his women shy, submissively yielding and, if possible,
somewhat over-awed by him.
They travelled north together by train, and a hire car was waiting for them at
Preston station. From there they drove the last few miles to the sleepy market town where
the potential customer plied his trade. They spent the late afternoon and early evening
discussing the bid they were to make and Bob outlined exactly what he wanted Helen to do
by way of information gathering during the next few days.
“Then we’ll go back to Bristol and spend the week-end putting some ideas together.
I hope you won’t mind working through the week-end, but it’s always like that when we do a
bid,” he explained, “That will throw up a lot of questions and the following week we get
the answers to those. Then we write the bid and submit it. Now we can have dinner.”
After a very ordinary meal in the hotel restaurant, Bob simply said, “Come on,” and
Helen followed him meekly up to his hotel room.
Locking the door behind her, he took off his jacket and tie.
When he saw that Helen had not moved, he simply said, “Strip.”
“What?” she asked, bewildered rather than angry.
“Why do you think you are here, instead of anyone else?” Bob asked, “I wanted some
company for a couple of weeks as well as an assistant. Now strip, or get out and go back
to Bristol.”
Helen stared at him.
“There’s a perfectly good job agency in the next building to ours in Bristol,” he
said pointedly.
Helen murmured, “Yes, sir,” and started to unbutton her blouse slowly.
“Speed it up,” said Bob, sensing that he was right about her essentially submissive
nature, “when I want a slow striptease I’ll tell you.”
Helen undressed as fast as she could, while Bob was getting some things out of his
case.
When she was naked he said, “Turn round slowly, and keep on turning. Let me see
you.”
After she had turned right round several times he said, “Very nice, but very pale.
Lie face down on the bed.”
Helen did as she was told, and she co-operated by lifting her hips as he pushed all
the pillows under her belly, leaving her arse sticking up high in the air. Then he took
her arms and laid them out towards the corners of the bed; her legs received the same
treatment.
“Very nice” he breathed.
Picking up the padded handcuffs he had taken from his case, he clipped her wrists to
the brass uprights of the bed head, and her ankles to the foot. Then she watched as he
finished undressing slowly, folding his clothes carefully and putting them to one side.
He also picked her clothes up and folded them.
“You are a naughty girl, aren’t you?” he asked, “Not only undressing in my bedroom,
but leaving your clothes all over the floor.”
He picked up a scarf from his bag and used it to hold a rubber ball in place in her
mouth.
“We don’t want you waking the neighbours, do we?” he asked rhetorically, “and
naughty girls must be punished, mustn’t they?”
He waited and Helen lay there staring at him. What she couldn’t understand was why
being handcuffed properly was so much more exciting than the make-believe bondage games
she had played with Derek. Her vagina was held clear of the bedcovers by the pillows and
she could feel her excitement seeping out.
“I asked you a question,” said Bob, “Should naughty girls be punished?”
Helen nodded her head.
SLAP!
The blow fell before she had really realised that he had raised his hand. Helen had
never been spanked, even as a child, and the pain in her left arse cheek was a rude
surprise. She and Derek had played at ‘naughty little girl’ but he had never hit her hard
enough to cause genuine pain. This was a deliberate attempt to hurt her.
SLAP!
SLAP!
He was using both hands now, one on each arse cheek and Helen wished, truly wished,
she had gone to Bristol when she had the chance. Also being handcuffed meant that she
could not escape, and the gag prevented her telling Bob that she didn’t want this.
SLAP!
SLAP!
On and on went the punishment and her entire arse was one mass of angry pain,
burning as though it had been scalded.
SLAP!
SLAP!
Helen lost count of the blows, and just lay crying her eyes out as the savage
spanking continued.
SLAP!
SLAP!
Pause, as he lifted his hands again.
SLAP!
SLAP!
Then … nothing.
Just as she started to wonder whether he would release her, he started again.
SLAP!
SLAP!
Pause.
SLAP!
SLAP!
Bob’s hands were hurting now and her entire arse was flaming dark red. Bruises were
beginning to show. As she lay sobbing uncontrollably, she sensed him moving behind her.
Then he was on top of her and his cock was thrust deep into her sopping wet vagina, with
his belly landing painfully on her flaming skin. Then he was out of her again, and his
drenched prick pressed against her darker entrance. Dimly sensing that he was trying to
hurt her with his prick, she opened herself as far as she could. She felt it enter her
rectum and he started to pump. Within seconds she was in the throes of an unexpected
orgasm, and Bob was not far behind her, pumping his semen deep into her bowels.
After a few moments he rose from the bed, unclipped her hands and feet, removed the
gag and said, “On your knees. Clean my prick with your tongue.”
And so the week started.
| 
