Red Letter

08Dec12

spanking OTKAngharad sat at her keyboard and tried to concentrate. Her smooth dark locks had tumbled over her face like a curtain to hide her face. It was an old school trick and gave her the illusion of a temporary haven. It also meant that nobody could see what she was thinking for she was sure it must be written in her face. It was something that even at the age of 34 she had never grown out of.

“I’m sorry John, please John.” Sally’s words from the other room sounded quite distressed now.

Sally generally only said please when she was being spanked as she was now, although it usually took a while for the girl to reach that point. But then the spanking had been going on for some time now and Angharad desperately wanted to peek.

Angharad shifted on her seat, suddenly conscious of where her bottom touched the chair. She blushed.

John Henry and Sally were not an item, nor were they related. In fact their exact relationship to each other was something of a mystery to Angharad. She suspected that even Sally did not know. Relationships were never like this back home in Wales.

Some years before, Angharad had learned, Sally had come to work for John as his assistant, just as Angharad was now. She had claimed to have been 21, John had told her. But the girl had turned out to be hopeless at her job by his account, but he had felt protective towards the girl and not a little curious as something about her was off.

Later it had emerged that she had been only 17 when she had first arrived and had been on the run from some sort of home for criminally wayward girls. By that time Sally had turned 18 and John was able to prevent her return by taking responsibility for her in what, as far as Angharad could gather, was a kind of adult adoption arrangement.

“When he found out, he spanked me,” Sally had lisped shortly after Angharad’s arrival.

The revelation had not surprised the Welsh girl. It was already obvious by then that Sally was kept on a short leash and spanked when she transgressed.

“I have something of an unusual and old fashioned relationship with Sally,” John had told Angharad at the interview. “You are the third girl I have tried out in the last year since my arrangement with Sally has changed. The others have all taken exception to my domestic set-up.”

Angharad had been curious and far from being deterred, she had been intrigued by the situation. The post of assistant to one of the country’s most successful authors also promised to be interesting and well paid.

John was a large man with salt and pepper hair and a gravel voice. When he spoke he managed to look both stern and smiling at the same time. It was an attribute that Angharad found comforting for some reason. There was also something familiar about him that she could not quite place.

“Will your family mind you being so far from Wales?” John had asked at the same interview.

“Oh I, eh, don’t have a family. Well there is an aunt in Swansea, but I never see her. I grew up in a children’s home see,” Angharad had told him.

“Well as the post is a live-in position we like to foster a family atmosphere around here. I trust that suits?” John had said, although it seemed to Angharad that it was as much in a warning as a piece of information.

“I look forward to it, I never had a family before,” she had blurted with a blush.

“Yes well, just remember that I am in charge around here, I don’t need another wayward teen,” he had said with a wink.

Angharad had blushed.

That had been almost a year before and Angharad had seen a lot since then.

“Ow, ooh please John,” Sally wailed, the spanking was still well underway.

Angharad squeezed her thighs together and jiggled her bottom in her chair. Sometimes she wasted whole mornings sitting at her desk replaying Sally’s spankings in her mind. When John was out, she sometimes even went online to read about other counts or look at pictures.

Sally had been spanked once or twice for doing that and Angharad had sometimes wondered what would happen if she were caught.

Just then John entered glowering at the world and Angharad jumped and grabbed at some papers to shuffle in a fit of guilt.

“That girl… sometimes I think she wants to get spanked,” he said.

“Oh…” Angharad blushed. Why would he say that, she thought, her heart fluttering. “Wh-what did she do now?”

John sighed and then smiled indulgently.

“The little minx borrowed the car even though she is grounded,” he chuckled.

At the word grounded Angharad thrilled a little. It was so strange to talk about a young woman of 21 getting grounded.

“But I thought… don’t you check the diesel usage?” Angharad said as conversationally as she was able.

“She thought she could top up the tank from a jerry can,” John snorted.

“But you caught her?”

“Luckily yes, the stupid girl had put petrol in the can.” John employed is exasperated face.

“That’s not very good for the car is it?” Angharad tried to sound knowing.

“No,” John said pointedly. “That’s another reason that girl is going to spend the rest of the morning in the corner and tonight she gets a bed time spanking.”

Angharad went a little light-headed and dipped her head to hide a blush.

“Oh eh… that chapter you wanted…” She rapidly changed the subject.

John spent the next two or three minutes talking although Angharad barely listened. Her head was full of spankings and Sally.

Once he had left she got up and went towards the hall on the pretext of going to the toilet.

Beyond her office was an open area that served as a reception room and hallway. It was here that John met his agent and other visitors and it was here that Sally got many of her spankings. Angharad loved it when circumstances meant that she had to sit and watch, but she was far too shy to be seen to openly look without a pretext.

The pretext of the toilet now meant that she had to pass the sniffling blonde-haired Sally who stood in the far corner dressed only in T-shirt and short white ankle socks. Her bare bottom was facing the door and carried a smooth sheen of deep red all over both rounds. Angharad caught her breath and her heart skipped.

Sally shifted a little where she stood, knowing that she was being watched. Even from behind it was obvious that the younger girl was blushing, even her ears were peony. It must be so embarrassing for her, Angharad thought.

Then she thought of the times that Maxine the daily woman had seen the same scene or the days that she brought her grown-up daughter to help with the ironing. Some days the agent and his assistant called by. How much worse for the girl then?

Sometimes all of these people had seen her actually spanked. Angharad felt a little dizzy as she let the memories of past spankings overlay the scene before her now.

Then she thought of the times she had ordered pizza or Chinese and had let numerous delivery boys squint a look at Sally’s predicament. The guilt she felt over it made it all seem more thrilling.

On the way back from the toilet she paused in the doorway to appraise Sally’s bottom in profile. The red dome jutting into the room was even more starling from this angle and of course she could see something of Sally’s expression. Her sad eyes were downcast and watery. What was she thinking?

The rest of the morning was taken up with trips to the stationary cupboard, making coffee and at least one more trip to the toilet. Not a lot of work got done and for once Angharad didn’t need the internet.

*

Things might have continued in a kind of Celtic Twilight for Angharad with her creeping around the margins and savouring scraps from Sally and John’s relationship. However, one day things changed quiet literally out of the blue; a blue screen of death.

“Damn this computer,” Angharad raged.

She tried turning it off and then on again several times before calling John.

“Shit,” he groaned, “Another new computer.”

His had blown-up a week before taking with it half a morning’s work.

“Well at least after last time we have back-ups right?” He said wearily.

“Eh… well I told you the other day that the portable drive was full and that… eh… the online back-up wasn’t working so well.” Angharad heard a silent scream from a long way away and felt a little sick. “I am not sure the online has backed up today.”

“But I bought a new back-up,” he snapped.

Then his eye fell on the box next to Angharad’s computer; the unopened box.

“I was… busy. I haven’t connected it yet,” she winced.

John let a slow breath out through his nose.

Angharad’s mind raced as her face turned ashen white. She had been looking at the internet all yesterday afternoon.

“I’ll check my version and then call the agent, maybe we can salvage something,” he said woodenly.

“It’s only corrections right? I mean it’s just this morning’s work?” Angharad said tentatively.

“There was some old work… you know. My computer had the originals but that was my old one. I hadn’t finished uploading all the old files.” His voice sounded dead.

As soon as he had gone Angharad burst into tears.

*

John didn’t say much after that. The trouble was he didn’t want to say outright to the agent that he might have lost some work and so far they had been somewhat obtuse in their response to his hints.

Angharad felt absolutely sick about it.

“John I…” She had begun so many conversations that way.

He had always replied with a fixed smile and said something like, “It will be okay.”

Finally Angharad had phoned the agent herself and told them the problem.

“Typical,” the woman at the other end said, “These bloody creative types are always… well never mind. It will be a bit of a headache but we have everything that has ever been sent to us. I expect we can salvage most of it.”

“Look, it was my fault, not John’s, I mean…”

“I get it, your job is to take the fall, no sweat love,” the woman laughed.

Angharad didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. She had certainly managed to convince the agent that John was some kind of flake, but at least they could recover some of the files.

The walk to John’s study took longer than usual and sick feeling in the pit of her stomach had never been stronger.

“John,” she said when she got there, “I think I have screwed up again.”

*

“So the agent thinks I am unprofessional, well that won’t kill me,” John said with a sigh.

He didn’t look happy, but then he smiled for the first time in days.

“At least there is some good news,” he said encouragingly. “What did you mean anyway, screwed up again? I already know about the back-ups and all you were doing was…”

“I was looking at porn.” There she said it.

He frowned.

“I had time to fix the back-up but I was… distracted,” she expanded her confession.

“Porn? Why…? Nothing too heavy, I mean…” He sounded panicked.

The only reason a woman would confess such a thing was if there was going to be some blow-back. Shit what has she done? Who has found out?

“N-no, nothing like that,” she gasped, “I was just… well you and Sally… well I… I…”

She took a deep breath and swallowed.

“It was spanking stuff,” she managed.

“Oh but I… well that’s no big deal,” he was genuinely embarrassed now.

“Except that I looked at in work time and…”

“Oh yes that, well…”

“Am I sacked?” She said bluntly.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, you messed up, it happens,” he groaned. “Just keep it down to a dull roar from now on will you.”

“Yes Sir,” Angharad said blushing to her ears.

As she walked away she felt faintly disappointed and didn’t know why.

*

Angharad rolled over and looked at the clock. It was 2.15, an hour later than when she had last looked. She glanced at the window in the hope of a hint of sunrise, but she knew there would be none.

She wished… she sunk back into the pillow and sighed. What did she wish? The tight sickness in her tummy had abated little since she had confronted John, only now she felt embarrassed. And something else; Longing? It sounded like a word from a romantic Victorian novel, but it was apt nonetheless. But for what was she longing; forgiveness? John had already forgiven her.

She closed her eyes and opened them again. It was 2.16.

*

Angharad opened her eyes with a start. It was still dark, but at least she had slept. She glanced at the clock again to be told that it was 5.23. This time there was some light at the window, but it was a long way off and faint; a yellow-grey glow just beyond the horizon which had turned the sky above from black to navy blue. The moon had set now, but one or two stars still shone against the early morning sky. Chief among them were Venus and Mars like a pair of lovers low in the sky. Love and war; was it an omen and if so, an omen of what?

She got out of bed and hastily pulled on her dressing gown. She had a purpose now, but she couldn’t identify it. An odd feeling, she thought, to set about a task without knowing what it was.

The pen glistened in the early morning night and cast a shadow over the vellum sat on her desk.

She slipped into the chair and switched on the lamp so that the desktop was bathed in a comforting light. Blank pages usually scared her, but today.

Dear Mr Henry, she began and then put the pen in her mouth to think for a moment before continuing.

Dear Mr Henry,

Ever since I came into your employ I have admired you. The clarity of your writing and your courage is inspiring. It is not only that you express unfashionable ideas, but you are living them in your relationship with Sally. A relationship which is as baffling to me as it is intriguing.

The other day when I should have been working, I was peeping at you and her together and wondering what it would be like to be…

Here Angharad paused, her pen hovering over the page. She could not bring herself to write the word ‘spanking’ even if she had no intention whatsoever of sending John the letter. She sighed and after pausing for a moment longer, she continued.

…punished by you in such a fashion.

I know that Sally appreciates your efforts and welcomes you as a mentor and a friend, so much so that I have always wondered why your relationship is not a romantic one. However, I know that it would be impudent of me to say more about this, if indeed I have not said too much already.

If this is the case then I apologise as I apologise for all my failings in your service. You are far to understanding and should have not been so lenient.

This brings me to my…

Again Angharad paused and struggled to find a word. Then boldly she pressed on.

…my humble suggestion and request.

I have seen how you give Sally a sound spanking on her bare bottom whenever her behaviour warrants it. Sometimes she is in the corner for some considerable time and yet thinks upon you without rancour. This I heartily condone and for my part fully understand her feelings.

My behaviour too has fallen far short of what I believe you deserve to expect and I realise now that I have long been puzzled by the fact that you do not punish me in a like manner when I fail you.

Is it that you think me too old for such treatment or that you do not feel you have the necessary authority. I have to tell you that neither should be a bar to handling me in any way you see fit.

In other words I hereby put into writing that I give you permission to spank me on my bare bottom for as long and hard and often as you think I should be. Further that I will submit to corner time and any other physical and related punishments.

Yours sincerely and truly,

Angharad

Angharad reread the letter several times and then folded it carefully and placed it in an envelope. It was then that she knew that she would put it into John’s in-tray.

*

“Angharad, will you come in here for a moment?”

John’s voice made her start, but it was not entirely unexpected. In fact she had been sitting anxiously at her desk all morning. It was now almost lunch time and she wondered if he had only just found it or had decided to make her stew a little before he… before he what? Suddenly she thought she had gone too far.

John appeared at the door, his face impassive. “Angharad,” he said.

“Oh, eh yes, I’m coming.”

She followed John back into his study convinced that she had really done it now. God, she was so stupid. Why would a serious man like John Henry be interested in the foolish ramblings of a frustrated woman?

Then she saw that the letter was open on his desk.

“Good news,” John said brightly, “The agent has found most of the lost work; largely thanks to you.”

“That’s good.” Angharad’s words sounded wooden.

“Yes, so you see there is no need to resign or face any consequences as far as I am concerned.”

Angharad blushed.

“You really are working out and are just about the best assistant I have ever had.” John beamed. “The last one who stayed for more than a month spent most of her time arranging my flowers as I recall. It played havoc with my hay fever. I wish her work-time hobby had been as harmless as yours.”

“Oh I… thank you, I think,” Angharad blushed to her ears.

John nodded and an awkward silence followed.

“But, I gather from your note that you want a much more… personal relationship and that you would like to be mentored like Sally?” John finally cut to the chase.

Angharad nodded.

“Exactly like Sally?” John had picked up a pencil off the desk and was rolling between his fingers. A nervous habit usually reserved for when he was negotiating a new contract.

“Well… you could be stricter with me I suppose, I mean…”

John chuckled and made a calming gesture with his hand to silence her, saying, “No, I don’t need you to sign off on the details. I just want to confirm with you that you are asking me to give you a spanking when you need it.”

Angharad went puce and looked at the floor. Then after a moment she gave a small nod.

“So, no more spanking porn, no more sneaking around and no more slacking off,” John said sternly.

“Yes Sir,” Angharad said quickly. She suddenly felt relieved.

“From now on I want you in by 10.30 on a weekday and in bed by 11.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Now, you can take down those trousers and whatever you have underneath and go and stand in the corner opposite where Sally usually stands.” John picked up the letter as he spoke and then slipped it into his desk draw. “You can wait there until I decide to spank you.”

Angharad worked her mouth and pointed behind her as if seeking physical confirmation.

“You heard me,” John barked.

“Yes Sir.”

“Oh and Angharad, if you want to change your mind at any point, just get dressed and get back to work and we will never speak of this again.”

Was that an out or was that a challenge? Angharad thought. She couldn’t meet his eyes though and in a moment of clarity she realised it was easier to obey than to confront her own emotions and she was suddenly free of all responsibility for what was to come.

*

When one lives in a house one never notices those small occasional sounds like the creak of a timber in the roof or the clunk of the boiler as the pilot light roars into life. Now Angharad heard them all and at each little noise she started in fear lest someone be about to come in.

The reality of standing in the corner with her bare bottom displayed to anyone who might enter the room was a more difficult experience than Angharad had imagined. For one thing the embarrassment was acute and never had she felt so vulnerable. For another, her mind raced with conflicting emotions of disbelief, denial and out and out nervousness about her inevitable confrontation with John. So much so, her right leg trembled uncontrollably.

At one point Sally entered the room behind and the blood fizzed in Angharad’s veins until she became light-headed. The older woman could hear the girl breathing not 10 feet behind her, but neither of them said a word and Angharad dared not turn around. The silence was oppressive. Then Sally beat a hasty retreat; heaven knew what she was thinking.

She was still coming to terms withal of this when she heard a heavier footfall on the stone floor by the door behind her.

“So you have decided to go through with it,” John said in a deep voice.

It was not until that moment that Angharad realised that that had never been in doubt and she knew her life was about to change. The fear and the excitement went to war within her.

“Yes Sir,” she breathed.

There was a sound of something being dragged across the carpet and she heard the heavy creak of John sitting on the Victorian straight-backed chair.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

She swallowed and unconsciously let her hands cup her front before she obeyed. He was sitting in the chair which now sat a yard or two from the wall. He was studying her with appraising eyes she could not meet as if he was seeing her for the first time. Instead her gaze was drawn by the hairbrush in his hand.

“Come here,” he said softly.

She nodded, but for a brief moment her legs wouldn’t obey. Then suddenly she was there tumbling over his lap so that her bare bottom was jack-knifed towards heaven.

Her bottom was large and wide with a deep-set cleft and heavy hams.

If he noticed her hot wetness between her legs or the way her thighs slicked together he made no sign, but she was mortified all the same. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, she thought; it doesn’t work if I do.

“So you have been a naughty girl,” he rasped. “You have been looking at porn in work time, slacking off and I wonder what else.”

“Yes Sir,” she reluctantly agreed, the shameful words torn from her.

“Say it,” he whispered.

“I have been a naughty girl.” Her voice was thick as her throat tightened and each moment became an hour. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she added in a hushed whisper.

“Are you,” he growled.

The first impact took her by surprise and her eyes flew open as she tried to make sense of a suddenly changed world.

“Are you?” He said as he spanked her again.

“Yes,” she hissed, “I’m sorry.”

He spanked her once more and she grunted. This time the pain was intense and seemed cling to the curve of her bottom and grow until it became half her existence.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped.

The next spank made her dance and buck on his lap and she took a moment to draw a breath.

“I’m sorry.”

He spanked much harder now, so that the tangy thwack echoed back at them off the ceiling.

“You won’t do it again, will you,” he barked at her, his words drilling into the back of her head and the set of her shoulders.

“No,” she said in a long drawn out wail, “I’m sorry.”

“No you won’t.” He spanked her hard on the underside of her curves so that she was tipped forward a little.

Her next words were indistinct and she bared her teeth in a grimace.

“What was that?” He demanded and spanked her where she sat in a series of short sharp blows.

“I’m mmmmm,” she groaned and then hissed, “Ssssssssssorry.”

The firm broad curves of her bottom held two dark red ovals, the one on the right buttock a little larger, he noted, although between the deep cleft of her bottom it was still white. He shook himself and returned to the task in hand.

“I do hope you are,” he remembered to say.

“I am,” Angharad wailed, her accent as strong and as a wet as the Welsh hills.

With the target area now stained red John picked up the pace and spanked until she rock and rolled in a parody of a dance on his lap. Her hands fluttered around the lower legs of the chair and she crossed her ankles to keep from kicking.

Halfway through the tirade Angharad hooted with a sob and from then on brayed like a welsh lamb. By the time the spanking was done the red areas of her bottom were tight like tanned leather so that her behind seemed to be twice its normal size.

“Now you know what a spanking is like,” John soothed.

“Yes Sir,” she sobbed.

“You can go back to the corner. It’s not as if you’ll get a lot of work done now.”

“Yes Sir,” she sniffed.

“Any regrets?”

She managed a smile as she stood rubbing her bottom and then added in her small Welsh voice, “No Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Then like a lamb she trotted over to the corner and settled down for a good long cry.

End.



8 Responses to “Red Letter”

  1. 1 paul1510

    Damian,
    good story, strange how our minds seem to wander down similar paths. 😀
    Paul.

  2. 2 Kia

    Wonderful story- one of my favorites from your recent work.

    Mr. Henry’s writing style sounds very familiar 😉

  3. 3 cindy

    DJ,

    What a well-written story! I could just visualize Angharad’s spanking, her bareness, the deep cleft between her cheeks, the slickness between her thighs. Will Sally and Angharad see each other as rivals for John’s affection? I hope not. I would rather think that when they lunch together in a restaurant, they will share the intimate moments of when they spied the other girl’s bare bottom over John’s lap, her knuckles white as she grasps the chair legs during the spanking, or of seeing her doing penance in the corner, her crimson bottom revealed to her co-worker and to the wide eyes of all who visit the office. Guests at adjoining tables see the listener’s face blush and wonder what is being discussed. Obviously, such behavior does not belong in a workplace setting , but this is fiction.

    cindy

    • 4 Kia

      I’m sure if they squabbled enough that it impacted their work, Mr Henry would intervene and it would prove to be a bonding experience 😉

  4. 5 Mark

    Nicely done. You managed the combination of a long interesting build up with spanking all the way through. You managed undoubted complete consent without any TFTB. In the process you were able to fill out more of the people, which made the spanking better too.

    It seems clear that Angharad would welcome sex, and he does like spanking in that way too. It would be sad if they remained frustrated or inhibited. That might lead to a breakthrough into sex for the adult mentoring relationship too, since you don’t give that detail about her but it seems likely she would welcome it. I prefer to think the women both settle down together to please him that way, to their own satisfaction as well.

    I hope we hear more of them, and Sally’s thoughts on all of this, and see his thinking more fully explored. This could be great fun.

  5. 6 Raffe

    Henry does not need a boos (wife). I think he is happy with his life. Sex with either of the girls would lead to “Where is this going?” question from either girls and life gets complicated.

    Moreover I don’t think that is D.J. style.

  6. 7 jenny29

    Great story…..somehow this story remind me of the story of S, maybe because both story have the same theme bout mentorship? However I really enjoy visit your blog and read your stories DJ….

  7. 8 DJ

    Thanks for all your comments.

    As many of you said – the story poses questions and sets up all kind of future potentialities. But there just isn’t time to follow each story.

    Especially when there are so many ongoing.

    Thanks again. 🙂


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: