His eyes widened and, as he tried to plead, his throat was attacked by the acrid tang of rubber. He felt the need to vomit but the gag filled his mouth to such a degree that to do so would have frightening consequences. He counted slowly and tried to calm his breathing.

She smiled and ran her carmined fingernail across his chest leaving a vicious red weal which was quickly stung by his own sweat. He had been restrained for a little over two hours and his muscles were severely cramped but she wanted them in spasm before she started to use the whip.

Her left hand reached for the dial and he shook his head but there was no mercy. She turned it through another ten degrees and his back tried to arch as the ropes creaked and his four limbs were stretched yet another inch.

Effective as the gag was she was pleased to hear his muted scream. She picked up the glass of Chablis and took a sip. She would give him another half-hour and then she would begin ....

Chapter 1

 

He stood quietly confident and waited for the lift. Today the results would be known and the successful applicant named. Some of his fellow graduates from the MBA course had sneered at his choice of Red Science as a prospective employer and he could understand their misgivings. The company had been running for a little over three years and was the brainchild of Serene, the former super model. She had used her wealth and her family connections in the former Soviet Union to buy into the newly privatised sections of the Soviet space programme and had proved remarkably successful in recycling the technology in the west.

What many of his student friends did not know was that Serene had graduated with an economics degree from the University of St Petersburg before her modelling career took off and in the last two weeks he had come to admire her as a ruthlessly efficient business woman.

The lift took him up to the third floor and he found, not surprisingly, that he was the first to arrive. The other three candidates had shown a casual disregard for the merits of good timekeeping and it only served to reinforce his view that he was the only man for the job. He knew, and cared to know, very little of his rivals. All three of them were undoubtedly beautiful women and perhaps suffered under the misapprehension that, because Serene herself had been a model, their looks alone would be sufficient for them to make a career in marketing. For two weeks they had ignored him and that had suited him fine.

The four of them had been asked to work their way through a computer based marketing simulation that was to be run over ten working days. It was understood that the candidate with the best result would be retained and the others would become surplus to requirements. He had found the simulation challenging but nothing he could not cope with and he had contrived to have a few chats with Lauren, one of the senior secretaries, so that he could get a handle on the way the company worked and interpolate it into his project. Lauren was a walking wet dream and, as far as he could ascertain, she was single. When he was offered the job he would pluck up the courage to ask her out.

He sat down and switched on his computer. The screen advised him that he had new mail and he felt a twinge of excitement. Any mail that he received now was no longer simulated and he clicked on the letterbox icon. The curt message was from one of Serene's personal assistants and asked him to report upstairs as soon as he arrived.

As he left the lift on the top floor his hands were slightly damp and the secretary sitting in the outer office told him to go right in. Serene's office was enormous, furnished with an eclectic mix of modern beechwood styling and Russian objects d'arts, and it was a second or two before he realised that his three rivals were already present and seated. Serene herself was sitting at an expensive looking curved desk.

He had now met her at least half a dozen times and still her beauty was startling. Her thick blonde hair was as immaculately coiffured as it had been in her modelling days and her face, if anything, had grown even more attractive. She had the deep blue eyes and high cheekbones of her Finnish mother but her father had bequeathed her an almost Mediterranean complexion. She had just passed forty but anyone without the knowledge would have guessed at a woman in her twenties.

"You're late. Take a seat."

He was caught by surprise and wanted to check his watch. He could have sworn he was early!

He sat in the sole remaining chair some distance from the others.

"As you know I was going to announce, this morning, the results of the computer simulation. Unfortunately, however, I find myself with less pleasant matters to deal with."

He found her husky, slightly accented voice, incredibly sexy and only slowly did he realise that things were not going to plan.

"If there is one thing I cannot abide it is sexual harassment in the workplace. I will not tolerate it and I will prosecute it with due vigour."

As her words sank in he looked away from the three girls to find Serene looking directly at him.

"The girls have submitted independent complaints and there is a degree of corroboration that cannot be ignored."

He looked at her blankly.

"Under the circumstances I feel I have no choice other than to call in the police."

There was a long silence before he found his voice: "Let me get this right. Is there some suggestion here that I have acted improperly?"

Her tone took on a harder edge

"I don't think "improperly" quite covers it. If only half of what the girls allege is true I would not give a cent for your chances of finding gainful employment ever again."

He looked back at the three women and snapped "It's a fucking stitch up!"

He was astute enough to realise that he was in a no win situation and got up from the chair. "They can have the fucking job and more fool you when the whole lot goes belly up!"

"Sit down!" Her voice was like a slap to the face and he found himself mutely sinking back on to the seat. "Perhaps you don't quite understand. Regardless of whether or not out you walk out the door I will have you prosecuted."

He sat forward.

"You can't be serious! You can see what this is! They want the job and this is the only way that one of them is going to get it!"

She ignored the diatribe and carried on in the same measured tone.

"Perhaps the authorities will believe you. I frankly do not. I will, however, offer you one choice. I will call off the police and you can, instead, accept my justice here and now."

"Your justice?"

"It's not open to debate. It's a simple yes or no."

He tried to think quickly. How bad could it be? Certainly at this stage in his life he did not need a police prosecution win, lose or draw. It galled him deeply but he really had no choice.

"Okay. What's the deal?"

"Excellent!" The sudden brightness in her eyes was unnerving. "Madeleine. Please lock the door."

Madeleine, the member of the trio that he found least obnoxious, almost skipped to the door and flicked the latch.

"Are they staying?" He jerked his head contemptuously at the three girls.

"It's only fitting ... Now, take your clothes off!"

"My clothes off?"

"Undress, disrobe ... get naked!"

Had she issued the command under any other circumstances he would have obeyed with alacrity and believed that he had been invited to heaven, but right here? She noted his hesitation and activated the intercom on the desktop

"Paula, what time are the police due to arrive"

"They said they would try and be here before midday"

"Thank you."

She looked at him and raised a questioning eyebrow. So this was it. Her justice - public humiliation. Well fuck her. She was more belittled by it than he and, besides, he was proud of his physique. He worked out regularly and tried to get on a sunbed at least once a fortnight. Looking straight at her, and pointedly ignoring the others, he removed his tie and slowly undid his shirt making a point of folding it carefully over the back of the chair. His shoes, socks and trousers followed and he was left standing in just his YSL boxer shorts.

"Those too."

He held her eye as he removed the shorts and watched for her reaction. He was very well endowed, not quite a porn star, but Serene seemed totally unimpressed.

"Face down on the table."

"The table?"

She stretched the two syllables

"The ta-ble."

He turned to the table and was pleased to note that, whilst Serene had displayed indifference, the other three could not resist staring at his crotch.

 

The coffee table top was a brass facsimile of the knight's tomb from St Basil's in Red Square and as he lay on it it was as though it had been cut out around him.

Serene turned to the other three; "Whenever you are ready."

Suddenly all three of them straddled the table and lowered themselves on to him. He wanted to struggle but their combined weight had driven the air from his lungs and he could barely raise a protest.

"Get off of me!"

Serene walked into view. "Please shout as much as you like. This room has been fully soundproofed for business purposes."

He took deep breaths and tried to gather his strength. He had never hit a woman but he was sure as hell willing to start now. He watched as Serene opened the cupboard directly in front of him and she was pleased to see his eyes widen in surprise. He recognised only a few of the contents and they were not items that he had ever expected to encounter in an office environment. There were a least half a dozen whips and a number of canes of varying length and thickness.

His mind worked furiously. It was obvious now that this had been set up from the start. There had probably never been any intention to involve the police but then what the hell did this have to do with marketing?

Serene returned with six lengths of black webbing belt and, without preamble, knelt down and unrolled them beneath the table.

"What the fuck's going on?" His voice betrayed the first signs of alarm.

"All in good time."

Serene picked up the end of each belt and brought them up and over his body in turn. She slipped each tongue into its corresponding chrome buckle and pulled them tight.

"Let me up now or there is going to be hell to pay!"

Their mocking laughter was chilling.

Serene took the final belt, only half the width of the others, and fastened it around his head so that left cheek was pressed painfully to the cold brasswork.

Serene stood back.

"Okay ladies, you can get up now."

The three of them rose but, now that the belts were in place, there was no perceptible easing of pressure. He tried to wriggle free but with his arms pinioned at his sides it was futile. "Look. Just tell me what this is all about!"

Serene ignored him and removed a cane from the cupboard. She bent it so that its metre length formed a circle and then, assured of its suppleness, she whooped it experimentally through the air.

"Don't come near me with that thing!"

She raised the cane over her shoulder and then, in a blur, she pulled it through the air. It struck both of his buttocks with a sickening splat. The other three, almost as one, drew a breath and then held it. The silence lasted barely a second and then the pain registered deep inside him.

"AAAiiieeee!"

The second stroke came quickly on the first and raised a second neat red line on his skin.

"NNNOOOoooo!"

Thwack! The next formed the third rung of a blazing ladder of pain.

"Stop it!" He had been caned just once before, when wrongly accused as a schoolboy, but his headmaster, for all of his fourteen stones, had not been able to raise a fraction of the pain that Serene seemed capable of inflicting.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

The strokes came at regular intervals, each lower than the last, until the sixth fell midway down the back of his thigh. He gritted his teeth determined that, after the initial shock, he would not show any weakness.