Part 1 here

“What the hell do you think you are up to?” Carolynn raged at John. “We have an arrangement, a private arrangement… well anyway… but the point is that this is about me… I mean us… Jesus Christ John why didn’t you tell me… she is just a….”

John Dacia was still trying to fathom why she had just burst unannounced into his office and sat blinking at his desk. Now he was confronted with an angry stream of consciousness and very little actual sense.

“I mean…what the fuck John… how long has this being going on…?”

“Carolynn,” he said in a slow firm voice, his hand extended in a stern but placating manner, “You seem upset, why don’t you sit down and tell me what is going on?”

Carolynn glared at him, furious that he would try and play her, furious that one look from him and she was inclined to let him.

“My sister, this is about my sister, how long have you been… seeing Imogen?” she spat.

“Imogen, what does she have to do with anything?” John asked, now shaking his head. “What has this got to do with her? Why are you here?”

Carolynn looked at him in disbelief and then opened her mouth for another tirade.

“Don’t you dare,” John barked, “If you don’t calm down I am going to spank you silly and then you will tell me. Carolynn, for god’s sake tell me what’s going on.”

There was something about John’s puzzled face that seemed sincere and Carolynn finally sensed a hint of doubt.

“Imogen has been doing lines; she is in some kind of spanking relationship. Did you make a deal with her too?” Carolynn demanded.

John cocked his head to one side as if considering something. “No,” he said emphatically. Then he smiled to himself and added, “Imogen, your middle sister right, the lawyer, she is a submissive too?” he was amused, and then more seriously he said, “But how do you know?”

Carolynn opened and closed her mouth like a drowning fish on land and slumped into the chair facing John. “Oh,” she sighed, “But I thought…”

“Clearly,” John chuckled, “Perhaps you had better start from the beginning.”

*

The cane made a sharp swishing sound as John tested it. He even looked down its length as if he were sighting a gun.

“Look I’m sorry I accused you,” Carolynn said placatingly as she half backed away. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“I am sure you will,” John’s smile fell short of his eyes. “You be sure to tell me all about it. Now if you would take down your things and bend over the desk then we will begin. Right now, I have to get to the bottom of it,” he quipped.

Carolynn sighed and her hands moved to the button on her smart grey trousers. “I supposed I deserve it,” she muttered.

“You suppose?” John growled.

“Yes, I deserve it,” she amended as her clothing went south and she tugged at her knickers. She glanced nervously towards the outer door beyond which the secretaries sat.

“You should have thought of that before you burst in here,” John said sharply.

“Ooh Imogen,” she mumbled as she turned to face the desk and bent herself across it, “I am going to kill her.”

“This isn’t Imogen’s fault,” John told her as he lined up the thin cane with Carolynn’s proffered bare bottom.

She nodded as she braced herself. All the same, she was going to have to find out what was going on, if only for Lucy’s sake.

“Did you hear what I said?”” John snarled.

“It isn’t Imogen’s fault,” Carolynn parroted.

“Whose fault is it?” he said sharply.

“Mine,” Carolynn sighed, but she didn’t sound convincing.

The cane stroke was fast and sharp and Carolynn felt keenly right where she sat.

The women in the outer office startled and looked around before they shared some smirks, particularly when they heard the high pitched squeal of the woman who had so rudely stormed through their office a few moments before.

“Whose fault?” John swiped the cane down again.

“Um,” Carolynn grunted and clawed at the desk top as she rode the pain. “Mine,” she gasped.

“Whose fault?” The cane again did its bitter work

“Mine,” she wailed.

“Whose?” John put some force into the next stroke.

“Mine,” Carolynn spluttered, she had to draw a breath now and tears pooled at her eyes.

John heard the sincerity now and paused to eye the neat red lines scoring the curves of her bottom.

“Whose fault?” He began again.

“Mine,” she sobbed.

“Yours,” John said emphatically as he caned her again and then once more. “Now we can talk about how you came bursting into my office.”

“Yes Sir,” Carolynn acknowledged in a thick wet voice.

“A baker’s dozen for the bursting in here and another baker’s for the outburst,” John told her.

“Oh God,” Carolynn gasped.

“You can take 30 or 40 minutes in the corner between sets,” he told her gently.

She nodded and adjusted her position for the onslaught.

*

Her silver Ford Fiesta glittered in the sun after a short burst of midday rain. It was a cheerful sight that seemed to mock her. Carolynn groaned. Sitting on the front seat was totally out of the question. She would have to leave it and take public transport; standing up of course.

Nor was that the worse thing: half way through her first sojourn of corner time one of the secretaries had been admitted into the inner office with something for John to sign.

“Oh John you can’t,” she had wailed.

“I suggest you keep quiet, today I really am in no mood,” he had growled.

Things had been no better when had been dismissed. She then had to leave through the front office that she had earlier so aggressive transversed. This time she had walked rather more slowly and carefully, her eyes downcast as she picked her way through three sniggering women.

“Goodbye Ms Blake,” one of them said cheerfully.

Carolynn had answered with a non-committal sound and a nod. No doubt her face was at least as red as her bottom at that moment. She looked at the car again and sighed, taking the bus and then tube was definitely on the cards. Memo to self, get your facts straight before making an idiot of yourself, she thought ruefully.

Now what the hell is Imogen up to? She asked herself, remembering why it was she had come. Who the hell is she seeing?

To be continued…