The Carrot and the Stick (19 page)

Now, in the suite, she grasped Natasha by the shoulders. ‘Do well here, Tash, and I'll introduce you to Richard Cross. You never know, you might have a future
behind
the camera.'

Natasha leaned forward to kiss Beth on the cheek. ‘I'll do anything you say. You're the boss.'

‘And don't you forget it,' Beth said. ‘I have ways of reminding you,' and she lightly slapped the girl's rump.

Two hours later Natasha had lost some of her enthusiasm, having sat through a lecture entitled Generation in the Twenty-First Century without understanding a word of it.

‘Shoulders back, chest out, our work starts now,' Beth said, when they met at lunchtime. She led Natasha by the arm through the swing doors of the bar. It was crowded but the girls, smiling and shoving in equal measure, secured a small table near the bar. They ordered drinks, realising from the scrum that they were unlikely to be served more than once.

Before she had taken a sip of hers, Beth heard a voice. ‘Is it Ms Forrester?' someone asked.

The girls looked up to find a tall man of about fifty standing over them. His hair was greying but his complexion shone with good health and good grooming. ‘Peregrine Merchant, Eastern Light,' he introduced himself.

Beth held out a hand. ‘I know, I haven't forgotten,' she said with a smile. ‘This is Natasha Perry.' Merchant took Natasha's proffered hand in both of his, and his smile widened. ‘Natasha, do you mind if I sit awhile.' He pulled up a chair without waiting for an answer.

They chatted for a moment until they noticed someone at the bar waving at Merchant. He got up, saying, ‘Don't go away, I'll be right back.'

As soon as he was out of earshot, Beth turned to Natasha. ‘Listen carefully, I must be quick. Eastern Light used to have a contract with us. When that contract ran out they signed up with another company. No time now to tell you why. Anyway, that contract is running out in a month. They are punting around; everyone knows it. Try to find out what he's thinking. He's the chairman.'

‘What, me?' Natasha said in dismay. ‘Where will you be?'

‘I'll leave you to it. He likes you, I can tell. And he loves girls; he pinched my bottom once.'

Natasha felt nervous when Merchant returned. As he sat down, Beth stood up. ‘I'll leave you in Natasha's company, if you don't mind, Peregrine,' she said. ‘I've seen someone I must talk to over there.'

Merchant turned his chair slightly so his knees pressed against Natasha's. ‘I don't mind at all,' he said over his shoulder. ‘You needn't hurry back,' he added quietly, his face close to Natasha's.

 

By five o'clock Beth was feeling tired and dispirited. She had talked to so many people without results, listened to two debates about arcane subjects, and swallowed too many cups of coffee and tea. It had been a waste of time; her only hope was Natasha. When she found the other girl in the lobby, Natasha's expression and body language told her what she needed to know, or rather, what she didn't need to know.

Natasha shook her head. ‘Nothing,' she said. ‘I tried, I really tried. I think he fancies me but he's quite cagey.'

‘What did you expect?' Beth said hotly. ‘Him to give it to you on a plate?'

Natasha took Beth by the hand. ‘Don't be angry. I'm just not very good at this sort of thing. I tried everything...'

‘And you failed,' Beth retorted unkindly. ‘So it's time for plan B. Meet me upstairs in an hour,' and she strode off.

She found Merchant where she thought he would be, in the bar. He seemed pleased to see her. ‘What a charming young lady you employ, Beth,' he gushed. ‘You must be coming up in the world to have an assistant at your beck and call. She speaks very highly of you.'

‘And she speaks very highly of you, Peregrine,' Beth said, and then took him by the hand. ‘Only you didn't talk about what she wanted to hear you talk about.'

He looked at her in mock horror. ‘You mean, this?' he said, holding up his briefcase. He clutched it to his chest with his arms around it. ‘You mean she wanted to see inside this with those great big, beautiful eyes.'

‘Is that where it is?' Beth asked.

He laughed. ‘My dear girl, that's for me to know and you to find out,' he said, and then became serious. ‘I'm not a fool, you know, Beth. I knew what you two were up to.'

‘I know you're not a fool, Peregrine. But your contract with the company I shall not name is coming to an end. You could give me a clue about the way you're thinking.'

He considered her words for a while. ‘A clue,' he said eventually. ‘Now let me see, what would that be worth? At least drinks and supper, I would say. On your expense account.'

‘Seven o'clock,' Beth said. ‘Upstairs, in suite one-five-two-four.'

 

At six forty-five in the bedroom of their suite, Beth said, ‘Tash, whatever I say in the next few minutes, whatever I do, you go along with it.'

At six fifty Beth made sure the main door to the suite, the door to the corridor, was left slightly ajar.

At six fifty-five she called Natasha into the bedroom again, leaving that door slightly open too.

At six fifty-seven, she announced loudly and sternly, ‘Natasha, you are a good-for-nothing, useless waste of space. Come here, I am going to teach you a lesson. Get over my lap,' and just then there was a light tap on the outside door, and Beth heard footsteps enter and then stop. At the same moment she smacked Natasha hard, across both buttocks. ‘I'm going to teach you a lesson,' she repeated, and smacked the girl again, and again.

At six fifty-nine Natasha, crying, ran from the bedroom into the sitting room and bumped into Peregrine Merchant standing near the door, his face flushed, a lecherous grin on his lips. She shrieked in horror and sobbed even louder.

‘Come back here - I haven't finished with you yet,' Beth shouted from the bedroom.

At exactly seven o'clock she entered the sitting room and smiled at Merchant. ‘Hello, Peregrine, I didn't realise you were here,' she said. ‘Just a minute, I'll be right with you.'

At one minute past seven Beth was talking to Natasha in a corner of the room. Her voice was a sibilant whisper capable of being overheard, and the only person other than Natasha within earshot was Merchant. Only certain words were audible. ‘Deal with you later... very severely... tonight after dinner... my hairbrush... on your bare bottom.'

At two minutes past seven, Natasha left the suite with her head down to hide her tears.

At three minutes past seven, Beth took Merchant's arm. ‘Drinks downstairs, I think, Peregrine. I've had enough of this place for a while.'

At four minutes past seven, Beth and Peregrine left the suite, closing the door behind them.

 

At a restaurant more frequented by tourists than gourmets, where the service was surly, the portions large but badly cooked, and the bill even larger, Beth and Peregrine Merchant eyed each other across the table. Both knew what the other wanted and each was determined not to crack first.

Merchant poured more wine into their glasses. ‘You were very tough on Natasha, Beth,' he said casually. ‘I couldn't help hearing. What had she done?'

‘Not enough,' Beth replied briskly. She changed her tone and looked up at him from under her eyelashes. ‘You could at least give me an idea of how many companies are in the running,' she said, completely changing the subject.

‘Six,' he disclosed frankly. ‘She's a very pretty girl; I'm surprised she puts up with it,' he commented, bringing the subject back to where he preferred it.

‘She's a very naughty girl and she has to put up with it if she wants to work for me,' Beth said. ‘Is Cross, Carstairs and Denton one of the six? Surely you can tell me that.'

‘It could be,' Merchant said, nodding inscrutably and reaching for his glass. ‘Are you really going to be... to be punishing her later?'

‘I could be,' Beth teased, matching his inscrutability. ‘Will you tell me if we're on the list?'

‘I might do, if you do.'

‘And I might do, if you do.'

‘Yes, you are on the list,' Merchant conceded.

‘Yes, I am going to spank her,' Beth told him.

‘Is there any way I could assist, or at least be there?' Merchant asked.

‘Is there any way I could assist our chances to get to the top of the list?' Beth replied.

‘Possibly,' said Merchant.

‘And possibly to you, too,' Beth said, and they smiled knowingly at each other. ‘But the trouble with this arrangement,' Beth went on ruefully, ‘is that I have to declare my hand before you do.'

Merchant took one of Beth's hands in his own and looked at it, lying on his palm. ‘And a very pretty hand it is too. I hope it is a firm hand.'

Beth looked at him carefully. ‘What exactly do you want, Perry?' she asked.

‘Just to be there at the time.'

‘Discreetly?'

‘
Very
discreetly,' he confirmed.

‘And what do I get in return?'

He squeezed her hand and then let it go. ‘I can make no promises,' he said. ‘Not yet, at least. But I can tell you this: I am looking much more favourably on Cross, Carstairs and Denton now that I know you are still there, working so diligently for your clients and with such a pretty, willing and naughty assistant.'

He raised his glass. ‘To the future.'

Beth raised hers. ‘To the future, together.'

‘Mm, I like the sound of together,' he said. ‘You've always been one of my favourites, Beth.'

She laughed. ‘I gathered that. I've still got the bruise on my bottom where you pinched me.'

‘Me, pinch you?' he said, in mock offence and innocence. ‘Never, surely.'

When she called for the bill, he raised his glass again. ‘To the
very
near future,' he said.

Beth looked at her watch. ‘Indeed, about half an hour from now?' she said.

 

Twenty-five minutes later Beth was back in her suite, making sure to leave the main door unlocked. She found Natasha in the bedroom, lying on her stomach on the big bed, glumly staring at the television in the corner. She had changed into pyjamas and her hair was loose.

She seemed pleased to see Beth. ‘Good dinner?' she asked, rolling over onto her back and stretching with her hands balled into fists.

‘Not bad,' Beth replied, thinking that Natasha looked like a kitten when she stretched.

‘Any progress?' Natasha asked, with a hopeful look.

‘More than you achieved,' she said, then emptied her handbag noisily on the dressing table, listening out for the telltale sounds she expected. Sure enough, as she dropped her powder compact on the glass top with a clatter, she heard the slight squeak of the door and soft footfalls in the other room.

Natasha, apparently totally unaware of the extraneous noises, followed with her eyes as Beth walked around the room. ‘I did do my best, you know,' she said earnestly.

Beth stood over her, as she lay on the bed. ‘That may be, but it wasn't good enough, was it?'

Natasha hung her head. ‘No, I'm sorry I let you down.'

Beth was unrelenting. ‘So we have some unfinished business with my hairbrush.'

Natasha looked up in surprise. ‘Oh, but I thought that was just a game to get the old goat going.'

‘No, no, that was no game,' Beth assured her. ‘I'm going to have a quick shower now, and when I come back you will be naked and waiting.'

As Beth showered rapidly, she wondered how Merchant was enjoying being the audience. Natasha naked and waiting timidly on the bed would be quite an appetiser for him - the overture before the grand opera.

When she reappeared in the bedroom wearing only the hotel's white bathrobe, Natasha was indeed naked, lying on the bed again on her stomach, with the hairbrush loosely held in her hands, tears of trepidation sparkling in the corners of her eyes.

‘I don't mind being punished by you, Beth,' she said meekly. ‘I am just sorry that I let you down.'

‘You'll be even sorrier in a minute,' Beth replied, picking up a straight-backed chair and positioning it beside the bed, in full view of the glinting eye just visible behind the crack of the bedroom door.

She sat down and without a word Natasha placed herself across her lap. Beth opened the girl's legs, knowing that her sex was pointing directly at the door. Then she lightly drew the stiff bristles of the brush up over the moist labia and between the cheeks of her bottom, over the small tight ring of her anus, so that Natasha shivered. Then just as lightly she began to spank her with the bristles, until little pinpoints of red sprung up all over the yielding flesh.

She raised the hairbrush, turned it over in her hand, and then brought it down with a resounding smack on the farthest buttock. Almost immediately she did the same to the buttock nearest her. Then she sat back for a moment, watching the blood colour the punished globes a bright red.