Whip Hands by C. P. Hazel Page A

watching men. Talk about sparing her blushes!
    Her chastiser was still asking her a string of questions. ‘And how do we root it out? How do we eradicate the dishonesty and pilfering? Come on, Mandy, don’t be shy. You always have plenty to say for yourself. We’re waiting to hear.’
    â€˜By becoming more honest?’ She knew her words were way off the mark even as she spoke them.
    â€˜No, no, no!’ This time Clare was spanking her with a cupped palm, and the sound was more explosive, akin to a wine cork being pulled. ‘We must make people really afraid to be dishonest.’ Thwack! Thwack! ‘We must put the fear of God into them. And how do we do that?’
    At least she had the answer to that one.
    â€˜By punishing them, so they don’t do it again.’
    â€˜Correct! Now get up!’
    Mandy felt her hair being grasped as she pushed herself off the floor. She stood up and Clare rose, too, keeping hold of her hair.
    â€˜Skirt off, and get those panties down!’ Clare ordered, releasing her grip on Mandy’s hair.
    The leather skirt dropped like a stone. Mandy disentangled her ankles clumsily, aware that she was being closely scrutinised. Jeff whistled as she bent over to do it.
    â€˜Wow! Cherry red, I’d say,’ he commented. ‘But I think we need to see a deeper colour. Something nearer damson, eh, Lou?’
    She might have guessed it wasn’t over yet. She was told to remove her bra, and Clare took it from her, giving her further instructions.
    â€˜Now, Mandy, your long hair is just getting in the way. Before I tell you about your final punishment session I want you to tie it up so it doesn’t hide your face. Okay?’
    Mandy looked around. ‘How can I? What do I use? I’ve not brought a scrunch or a band.’
    â€˜What have you got in your hand? Think, Mandy, think. I thought you were a resourceful girl.’
    Of course, the knickers! She deftly tied them in a bow so that her dark hair was gathered in a makeshift ponytail. She turned round to admire the effect in a small mirror on the wall.
    â€˜Let me help you,’ Lou said, getting up and lifting it off the wall. Mandy looked into it and had to admit the scarlet bow went well with her hair.
    â€˜Lower?’ He then directed it so she had a glimpse of her tummy and pubis. Turning round and looking behind her, she could see her arse was glowing just as Jeff had remarked so appreciatively. She suddenly felt the humiliation of her position, stark naked and surrounded by three fully-clothed adults here for the sole purpose of watching her being punished for their pleasure. She saw how pale she looked. She felt like a slave, unable to exert her own will. At the same time the situation seemed to satisfy some deep-seated desire.
    â€˜Thank you, Lou. Now perhaps you could help me tie Mandy’s wrists?’ Clare had come up behind her with her tights in her hands. ‘Cross your wrists, Mandy.’
    This was something she hadn’t been warned about. Why was she being so compliant? she wondered. She looked up to see Lou binding her wrists as instructed. The frown of concentration on his dark features made her pulse quicken. Between her thighs she felt the spread of liquid warmth.
    â€˜Now, hands on your head!’
    Clare took over and soon Mandy realised what was being done. Her wrists were quickly secured to the ponytail with the remaining length of the tights. Now her hands were clasped on top of her head, elbows out to the side in a stretching position.
    Clare peeled off her jacket and hung it over the chair back. She was wearing a plain white bra underneath, not at all lacy or decorative. Mandy noticed for the first time Clare’s well-defined arm muscles and remembered she was a regular swimmer. No wonder she had been able to put such strength into the spanking.
    â€˜Now for some real action, my girl,’ Clare said, reaching into her capacious shoulder bag.