The Carrot and the Stick (25 page)

Natasha leaned back, pushing her hips forward on the couch, her legs parted. ‘It wasn't a remand home, it was a hostel,' she said, sliding one hand between her legs. ‘Richard, do I really have to do this?'

‘Yes.' He was adamant.

Natasha told again about her time as a teenager, about the warden of the home who liked to spank her, and eventually cane her for imaginary offences. As she spoke she began to pant and writhe on the sofa. Many times she lost track of what she was saying and had to go back and correct herself, constantly having to start incomplete sentences over again.

‘Beth, Natasha seems to be having some difficulty,' Richard said, watching and listening intently with his chin on his steepled fingertips. ‘Perhaps you would help her?' and without a word, Beth slid seductively to her knees in front of her friend. She pushed Natasha's hand out of the way and buried her head between the girl's thighs as fingers instinctively entwined in her blonde hair.

‘Tell me again about the caning,' Richard went on, watching the beautifully conflicting look of bliss and shame on the dark girl's face, and the alluring sight of her breasts slowly rising and falling as she relaxed under the artful and audible ministrations of her friend.

As she tried to explain, her eyes closed dreamily and her cheeks rosy, she became more and more aroused until finally her last words crescendoed into a panted squeal, intermingling perfectly with Beth's wet lapping. Her head lolled back and she clamped her thighs against either side of Beth's head, giving herself over entirely to the orgasm that contorted her body.

A few minutes later, as Beth resumed her seat, Natasha fanned her flaming cheeks with her hands. ‘Take your sweater off,' Richard instructed. ‘You look hot.' Again she obeyed and dropped it onto her trousers, and now she was naked.

‘Now perhaps you will fetch the cane on the sideboard,' Richard went on. ‘I thought we might settle the score we owe you by re-enacting what you have just told us.' He turned to Beth. ‘What do you say, my dear? It strikes me that she got off lightly with Helen.'

Beth nodded. ‘Helen was much tougher with me,' she said, ignoring the sulky look Natasha gave her, and then watched appreciatively as the naked girl stood and walked sexily across the office, picked up the cane and presented it to Richard.

‘Show me,' he said.

‘Well, I would lie across the desk, like this,' she whispered, gracefully bending over the uncluttered desktop, resting on her forearms. ‘I would have my legs parted,' she shuffled her feet apart, ‘then the housekeeper would hold my wrists.'

Richard nodded to Beth. ‘That's where you come in,' he instructed, and Beth moved to the desk and stood opposite her friend, then grasped the girl's wrists in each of her hands and pulled them to her until Natasha's breasts moulded softly to the gleaming surface.

‘And then what?' Richard persisted.

‘Then... then he would cane me, sir,' Natasha answered, her cheek against the wood of the desktop.

‘Like this?' Richard said, slicing the cane through the air and across Natasha's trembling bottom. Natasha bucked and pulled at Beth's restraining grip, but without being able to break it. ‘Yes, sir, just like that,' she gasped.

‘Like this... and this... and this?' Each time the cane slashed down against Natasha and each time she acknowledged the stroke with a gasp of acceptance and of pain.

‘How many would he give you?' Richard asked.

‘Usually s-six, sir,' came the sobbed reply.

‘Only six?' he mused. ‘A mere two to go, then, so I'd better make these particularly memorable.'

Beth flinched watching the last two strokes. She knew how cruel and how accurate Richard could be; she knew without being able to see that they would fall on the plumpest part of her friend's bottom and that each would fall in exactly the same place.

Brave as she was, Natasha could not hold back her cries, and she was still sobbing quietly when Richard said, ‘And then what would happen?'

‘I-I would g-go to my room,' Natasha snivelled, ‘and cry m-myself to sleep.'

‘That seems a bit of an anti-climax, don't you think Beth?' Richard said indignantly.

Beth nodded. ‘I don't think the warder had the courage to do what he really wanted to do,' she suggested.

‘And that's the big difference between him and me,' Richard said.

‘I think you should do to Natasha what you did to me the other day, Richard,' Beth said firmly, then let go of Natasha's wrists and searched in one of the desk's top drawers. Quickly locating what she wanted, she rounded the desk, unscrewed the lid of the jar, and began to spread the lubricant between Natasha's gloriously striped buttocks as Richard took off his trousers.

‘Oh no,' Natasha muttered against her own upper arm, both of them still lying inert on the polished surface. ‘Please, not my bottom. It's so sore.' But she made no attempt to stand up or to change her position.

‘Oh yes,' said Richard, ‘your lovely tight bottom it is to be.'

He positioned his gleaming helmet against the small, neat ring of Natasha's anus and eased forward with his hips. Natasha moaned and gripped the far edge of the desk until her knuckles turned white, as her body responded to the inexorable penetration. Beth was forgotten as the two of them, slick with grease and eager for fulfilment, raced towards their separate but simultaneous climaxes.

 

 

 

‘Are we going for fun, or the opposite?' Celeste's voice was full of nervous mischief as the three girls headed for the country in Beth's car. It was Saturday morning.

‘We are going because we are summoned,' Beth said, ‘and we'd better not be late.'

‘If I know Richard and Helen there's bound to be a bit of the opposite involved,' Natasha piped up from the back seat.

They fell silent, contemplating what that might mean. Natasha was undoubtedly right. A summons to the Cross family country house was rare enough; a summons for all three of them was downright suspicious.

But their concerns were allayed somewhat as soon as the tyres of Beth's car drew to a reassuringly crunchy halt on the gravel outside the large house, just five minutes after the appointed time. Richard Cross was waiting for them on the doorstep, dressed in casual clothes and smiling broadly, the very picture of the perfect genial host.

‘Let me record this for posterity,' he said, as the girls piled out of the car, and he held up a digital video camera as they primped and preened themselves for him in the bright sunlight. Beth was wearing a white linen skirt with a bright lemon shirt, her blonde hair tied with a lemon ribbon. Celeste was simply elegant in a red and white flowered summer dress, the skirt short and slightly flared so it swayed in a liquid fashion as she moved her hips. Natasha wore dark slacks as usual, and a lilac cotton pullover. She was so petit, making most men quiver with the desire to protect such a defenceless creature.

The Crosses were punctilious about formalities. Richard graciously put the girls at ease in the morning room, chatting lightly about the weather and the nearby sights, while Helen served coffee and croissants. ‘I bet none of you had breakfast,' she said in a motherly way. ‘Don't eat too much though,' she added. ‘We thought you might like a swim before lunch.'

‘I thought we were here for business,' Beth said, licking crumbs off her lips.

‘You are, you are, but business with pleasure,' Helen told them. ‘Business will come after lunch.'

‘I have a special surprise for you all this afternoon,' Richard said, and Beth, who knew him best, found that slightly ominous, but she soon forgot her trepidation in the excitement of the other two.

‘I didn't bring a swimsuit,' Natasha lamented.

‘Oh, don't worry about that,' Richard said. ‘House rules - we swim naked here.'

Having devoured the light snack, they went out through the open French windows and across the lawn to the pool. Natasha was the last to leave and as she set foot on the grass she looked about warily. Helen, glancing back and noticing her expression, returned to take her by the arm. ‘Don't worry,' she said. ‘It's Gudgeon's day off.'

Celeste was the first in the water. She flung her clothes and shoes beside a pile of towels and dived into the crystal water. Her head broke the surface as slick as a seal and she whooped with joy. ‘Come on, you two,' she squealed excitedly.

Beth and Natasha needed no further encouragement, and in no time at all they were standing on the side of the pool, the sun hot on their naked backs. While they were still arguing about who was going in first, Helen pushed them from behind and they plunged into the water with simultaneous splashes. In retaliation, without consulting each other, they climbed out of the water and grabbed Helen as she was unhooking her bra and threw her in, still wearing her knickers and with her bra held on by one strap.

Richard stood in the shade of a chestnut tree, leaning against the trunk with the video camera to his eye, recording the idyllic scene before him. ‘For the scrapbook,' he announced to no one in particular. ‘And for insurance,' he added under his breath.

For an hour or more the four females played games in the sun. They threw shoes in the water and had to retrieve as many as possible without coming up for breath. They then raced two lengths of the pool and Celeste, who was comfortably in the lead on the second leg, realised it might be impolite to win, so slowed up to allow Helen to pass her. Then Richard made them do it again because he had missed the start. He wanted to shoot it from behind, especially when the four of them bent over to make racing dives. They had water fights in the pool, with Beth on Celeste's shoulders and Natasha on Helen's. Beth noticed that whenever there was any pairing up to be done, Helen chose Natasha, especially if it meant touching her in any way. Even though she lost the fights, Helen looked supremely happy with Natasha's naked thighs on her shoulders and the girl's sex pressed into the nape of her neck.

At lunchtime they lay, still naked, on the lawn, fanning their hair with their hands to allow it to dry. Helen trundled a trolley out, bearing a giant bowl of prawns in their shells, and dishes of mayonnaise, butter and thinly sliced brown bread.

‘Perfect,' said Celeste, when she had finished eating, her lips greasy with mayonnaise and her eyes slightly glazed from some wine Richard provided. She lay back, and like a contented cat, was asleep almost instantly. Gradually the others dozed too, Natasha on her stomach with her head on Helen's warm thigh, and Beth with her head resting on Natasha's bottom. Richard lay back in his deckchair and allowed his eyes to feast on the beauties before him.

 

‘Okay, you've had some fun - time now for work.'

Richard paced the floor of the sitting room as he spoke, glancing at the three girls in turn, sitting fully dressed, in armchairs.

‘Let's see this as a sort of end of term report,' he went on. ‘I'll start with you, Beth.'

She looked apprehensive but soon brightened as she listened to his words. He said she had been industrious and imaginative. She had won a new contract and hoped for two more. She had planted an ally, Celeste, in the bosom of a client company, and had taken another potential recruit, Natasha, under her wing. He said he admired initiative and enterprise and on those counts she had scored well.

He turned to Celeste. She had shown a drive and a purpose distinctly lacking when he first met her. At this Celeste blushed prettily but looked pleased. She seemed to have an aptitude for business, he said, and would be an asset to Cross, Carstairs and Denton if she joined the staff.

He glanced at his watch and then turned to Natasha. She was young and had a lot to learn, but was undoubtedly keen and willing. He added that Helen had spoken very much in her favour. At this Beth stole a glance at the younger girl, but Natasha had her eyes demurely cast downwards.

When he had finished speaking and was glancing at his watch again, Beth spoke up. ‘Thank you for your kind words, Richard,' she said. ‘They allow me to raise something on behalf of all three of us, something we have discussed together. We would like to work for Cross, Carstairs and Denton but in a separate capacity, as an independent agency recruiting new clients. We think...'

‘Beth,' Richard cut in, ‘be quiet.'

All three girls sat upright, their attention again riveted on Richard.

‘I hadn't finished,' he continued. ‘I had mentioned your good points. Now let's deal with the bad. I have one word to say to all three of you: ethics.'

Beth was the speaker for the threesome. ‘We don't know what you mean, Richard,' she said.

‘Oh yes you do,' he snapped, ‘but you think we are so foolish that we cannot see it. You think that by using feminine wiles and your bodies so wantonly you can manipulate men into giving you exactly what you want.'

‘No we don't,' Beth said firmly. ‘That's unfair.'

He cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. ‘You mean you don't use your bodies?'