School Reunion Year 1 by Laurel Aspen Page B

heart beating alarmingly as she waited in silence.
    â€˜We’ll have this skirt out of the way for start…’ said Mr James, hardly able to believe that what he’d fantasised over for so long was finally happening.
    Carly hoped he liked what he saw, not daring to look over her shoulder at him. Should she have gone for stockings and suspenders?
    â€˜â€¦And we won’t be needing these…’ he went on.
    â€˜Mr James, no please,’ Carly gasped, feeling him slowly peeling down her knickers, ‘not on my bare bottom, it’s so undignified.’
    â€˜Be quiet, girl,’ snapped her boss. ‘You agreed to this punishment. In fact, as the tape recorder on my desk will subsequently confirm, you suggested it. There’s no point in whining now.’
    â€˜Yes…’ slap ! ‘Ow! But…’ slap !
    Mr James’s palm descended heavily, no loving pats, these were full-blooded slaps, rippling her flesh and leaving livid finger marks across the taut porcelain skin of what, Mr James thought wryly, had indeed turned out to be a positive peach of a behind. Try and manipulate him, eh? Well, if she was to have any future at the firm she’d better know who’s in charge.
    For the next ten minutes both parties were lost for words. Mr James raptly intent on severely slapping every inch of Carly’s truly delectable posterior to a livid red, and Carly wriggling, squirming, kicking and yelping while he did so.
    Oh God, but it hurt. Her bum was on fire. She’d never felt such pain. This was so much more than she’d bargained for. This was totally different from the light-hearted spankings as foreplay she’d previously enjoyed. Finally her self-control dissolved into scalding tears and she lay helpless and sobbing while Mr James callously treated the velvety skin of her tender under-curves, where buttocks met thighs, to the same vigorous treatment.
    â€˜Good,’ he said in a voice full of undeniable authority as he paused for a moment to inspect his handiwork, ‘an extremely sound spanking and an excellent start.’
    â€˜Start?’ The implication of this choice of word was not lost on the hapless, chastened girl pinned passively across his thighs. Carly was appalled, pouting, petulant and protesting. ‘My bum feels as if its been scalded, I can’t possibly take any more punishment…’
    â€˜I’ll be the judge of that, thank you, Carly,’ responded Mr James, with a glint in his eye that was positively scary. ‘I think six of the best is required to properly absolve you of your sins. Not least the error of thinking you could set me up. Kindly stand, walk to the desk and bend right over it.’
    â€˜No…’ wailed Carly, dismayed by the knowledge that her carefully laid plans were slowly disintegrating around her.
    â€˜Either you walk or I drag you,’ Young Mr James was obviously thoroughly enjoying himself. ‘Which do you suppose might be more humiliating?’
    Put like that she’d no choice, so, all four cheeks flaming, Carly struggled, dishevelled and tearstained to her feet where, clutching her shirt around her waist and hobbled by the tangle of knickers about her knees she shuffled over to the imposing oak desk. Caution thrown to the wind, Mr James pointedly ignored the look of mute pleading etched upon Carly’s attractive face as he picked up a large plastic ruler, weighing it speculatively in his hand, and in an instant her hitherto sulky expression was transformed to one of utmost terror.
    â€˜No, please Mr James, don’t use that on my poor bum,’ she pleaded, but to no avail.
    Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, pushing her facedown onto the unforgiving surface of the desk, and an expensive brogue pushed her feet as far apart as the delicate but constraining garment around her knees would permit.
    Passively prostrate across the polished surface Carly instinctively pushed