She looked about eighteen, fresh out of school or college I speculated, obviously on her first real job in the City. She was on the short side, blonde... with a very pale complexion, beautiful blue eyes, an irresistible button nose, and, best of all, a very impressive pair of tits indeed. I always looked out for her in the mornings, and maybe once a week my vigilance might be rewarded. Until today, the highlight of this admittedly rather one-sided relationship had been the time I managed to sit. ..hah...ah-hah-aaaah! Yuh-yuh fuckin b-b-b-bastard!’ Smiling, and satisfied he’d got just the excuse he wanted, the captain jerked his finger away and wiped it across her bottom. ‘That wasn’t very clever, or polite...so lets make that twenty...no, twenty five strokes, Corporal if you please...it appears that Mrs Matanga still hasn’t come to terms with her true situation yet.’ He walked calmly round the desk and sat down. He rolled his chair sideways a little so he could watch every moment of. “Could I use yours?” “Of course,” Mani smiled. “My secretary will help you.” While in the copy room with Mani’s secretary Padma did a little recon work and learned that not only was the secretary a lonely woman, but that she had also been oft mistreated by the men in her life. It occurred to Padma that now was the perfect time to use the new Sapphic vocabulary Aalia taught her to make her first convert to girl-on-girl action. While Padma was thus occupied, Aalia entered Mani’s office claiming. She heard the whip dropped across the iron brace of the beam. Its sound, stiff leather on wood, clipped the air softly and died, belying the power, the sting. The long dreaded end had come along with the end of the song. Sweat stung her eyes. The room smelled of it, mixed with the aroma of fragrant oil, fresh leather, scented candles, polished wood, and his musk. Padded steps of bare feet approached from behind. He leaned against her, and she hissed a breath at the burn of his sweat against.
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