Getting Even with Gemma and Jane

I put the phone back to my mouth.

'Let me phone you back, Harry. I may have got hold of the wrong end of the stick.'

I replaced the receiver in its cradle and sat back down on the sofa. Jane made to sit back down on the table.

'Wait!' I said.

She froze, looked up at me.

'Over my knee,' I said, tapping my thighs with the fingers of my right hand.

Jane seemed to stumble slightly, then walked towards me. Standing to one side of my outstretched legs she took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment, as if hoping that I'd change my mind.

'I'm waiting, Jane,' I said.

She swallowed a couple of times, then lowered herself clumsily until she was draped over my legs, hands and feet touching the ground. Her body was heavy against me, and I could feel the beat of her heart.

I moved my left hand gently up to the nape of her neck, my right down to the backs of her knees. Her skirt had ridden up slightly and I could see her stocking tops and the clips of her suspenders. Her body was as stiff as a girder, and quivering like a tuning-fork.

With my left hand I gently caressed her hair against her neck. At the same time, I gently slid my right hand up her thighs, pausing once I hit the naked flesh between stocking-tops and buttocks. She squirmed slightly on my lap, and choked back a cry.

'What do you think I'm going to do to you, Jane?' I asked. 'Take a wild guess.'

She moved her head slightly as if trying to evade my caresses.

'Don't make me ask again, Jane. Don't make things worse.'

I heard her gulp.

'You're going to spank me, Sir,' she said.

'You ever been spanked before, Jane? Sexually, I mean?'

She hesitated, seemed to quiver slightly more.

'Don't tell me dear old Dave put you over his knee?'

'Once,' she said.

'How was it for you?'

'I laughed,' she said, softly. 'We both laughed.'

'Then Dave wasn't doing it right,' I said. 'You won't laugh this time, Jane, believe me.'

I slid the fingers of my right hand along the taut black strip of her thong, then back down across her buttocks, spreading them gently with fingers and thumb.

'Please,' she whispered.

With my left hand, I released the nape of her neck, and reached down and took hold of her thong where it crossed the bottom of her spine. I pulled tight, so that the shiny fabric cut down between her spread buttocks.

'Spread your legs a little, my dear,' I said. To my surprise she did so.

'I'm going to slide my hand down between your legs, Jane,' I said. 'So that I know what to expect, how would you describe yourself? Dry, damp, wet or soaking?'

When she hesitated I delivered a sharp slap to her right buttock. She yelped, then whispered: 'I'm wet, Sir'.

I let my right hand glide down between her buttocks and onto the tight material that covered her pussy.

'Either you've wet yourself, my dear,' I said, ' or this is turning you on quite a bit.'

I felt out the groove of her through the satin, and moved my fingers gently to and fro. She groaned, tried to close her legs, then immediately loosened them again. I kept on working her for a few moments, flexing my fingers against her pussy, then stopped abruptly. Without thinking, she tried to push down onto my swiftly withdrawing hand. She turned her head to look up at me, her eyes wild; then, suddenly, her body fell still, and blood rose to her face.

'Like that, do we, my dear?' I shifted my body slightly beneath her and placed my left hand gently but firmly in the small of her back.

She turned her face away from me again and said nothing.

'And now, Jane, the main event.'

I felt her body stiffen in anticipation.

'You have disobeyed me more than once today. If you disobey, you get punished. Is that clear?'

'Yes, Sir,' said Jane, twisting her head round to face me, 'but ...'

'Don't make it worse for yourself, Jane,' I said. 'I am going to spank your creamy white arse. Six strokes. And when I'm done, you're going to thank me. Is that clear?'

She hesitated a moment, then nodded once and turned her face to the floor.

'Lift your body up slightly, Jane,' I said. 'I'm going to pull your panties down.'

'Please don't, Sir,' she said.

I smiled to myself, wondering why she was so concerned. It wasn't as if the thong left much to the imagination, or if it would deaden the impact of the spanking I was about to deliver. 'Three seconds to do as I say, Jane. Or I fuck you in the arse with a dildo the size of a baseball-bat. Your choice. Three -- two - ...'

She levered her waist away from my thighs, and I tugged her thong down until it was wrapped around her legs just below the knees.

'Hold tight,' I said. 'It's going to be a bumpy ride.'

I raised my hand and delivered a short, hard smack to her bottom. Her buttocks quivered beneath my hand. She gave a yelp of pain.

'One down,' I said. 'Five to go.'

I spanked her five more times, increasing the ferocity of the blow each time. After number three she was sobbing, struggling to free herself but helplessly pinned over my lap.

'What do you say, Jane?'

'Thank you, Sir,' she said, her words almost indistinguishable between he sobs.

I left her over my lap for a few minutes, running my hands gently over her reddened buttocks. When she'd stopped crying, I told her to stand up.

Clumsily, she rolled off my legs and onto the floor where she lay on her side, looking up at me through uncomprehending, tearful eyes.

'Why are you doing this to me?' she said.

'Because I can,' I said. 'Get up!'

She struggled to her feet, reaching down to pull up her thong as she did so.

'Did I say anything about pulling your panties up?'

She froze in position, still half squatting.

'No, Sir,' she said.

'Then leave them,' I said.

She stood up, facing me, the thong stretched tight between her knees.

'Go and stand in the corner,' I said. 'Facing the mirror.'

Jane looked at me for a moment, then, hobbled by her half-masted panties, shuffled into the corner. She reached down towards her tender-buttocks and peered nervously over her shoulder at me.

I got to me feet.

'Hands on your head,' I said. 'Eyes front.'

Reluctantly, she did as she was told.

I walked over to her and placed my hands gently on her hips. Her body shuddered and she gave a tiny sob. I looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was wet with tears. I reached round her and unfastened the buttons on her skirt and let it fall around her ankles.

'Step out of the skirt,' I said.

She raised each foot in turn. I pulled the skirt away and tossed it to one side. I moved back in closer, reaching round her to the front of her blouse, my fingers moving dextrously to undo each button. She was crying again now, arms still locked together on her head, her whole body quivering.

'Arms down,' I said. She complied, and I tugged the blouse from her shoulders. 'And back on your head again,' I said.

She shook her head slightly, and for a moment I thought she was going to resist; but when I gently took hold of her elbows, she once again assumed the position I had assigned to her.

I went back to the table and picked up my glass of wine. A little too warm, but I could barely taste it in any case as I stared at Jane, drinking in the sight of her. Perfection. My eyes slid up her body, drinking in the vulnerability of her, moving from gleaming high-heels up the seams of her stockings, past the tight, knee-high cross-bar of her tightly-stretched thong, to the stocking-tops, pulled out of true by the relentless tug of her suspender-belt; over the pale thighs to the inviting curve of her reddened buttocks; onwards and upwards, over the waist-band of the suspenders to the harsh, dead-straight line of her bra-strap that seemed to cut into her quivering shoulder-blades.

Draining my glass, I moved in towards her. Standing right behind her, I laid my hands gently on her hips. She gasped. I leaned forwards slightly, stooping, whispered in her ear.

'Good girl, Jane,' I said, sliding my hands forwards and round over the curve of her belly.

I studied her reflection in the mirror, my eyes drawn to my first glimpse of her pussy. Neatly trimmed, but nothing excessive. Her tits, supported, but barely concealed by the sheer fabric of her bra, hung like fruit for the picking.

'Where would you prefer me to grope you, Jane?' I asked. 'Tits, or pussy?'

She said nothing and shook her head and started crying again.

I released her for a moment, and went over to a drawer and took out a shiny white dildo about twelve inches long and 2 inches around. Then I walked back to Jane and reached round and put it on the floor just in front of her feet.

'Tits or pussy, Jane? Or I'll ream out your arse with Ol' Faithful?' I put my hands back on her hips. 'Three -- two - ...'

Her gaze flickered down to the enormous dildo, then back to meet my gaze. 'My tits,' she whispered, her face full of horror.

'What about your tits?'

'I want you to grope my tits, Sir,' she said.

I slid my hands slowly up over her ribs, then cupped her breasts. I moved my hands back and forth, kneading her flesh like it was dough.

'Look at me, Jane!' I said.

In the mirror, her gaze locked onto mine. Her eyes were wide with terror, with disgust, and maybe with something else I couldn't quite place. Desire, maybe. The draw of the forbidden.

I shifted my attention to her nipples, pinching and rubbing them through the slick material of her bra. Her nipples were small and dark and hardened instantly beneath my touch. She gave a groan, and pushed herself back slightly against me. She was taking short, sharp breaths. Fuck! I really hoped she wasn't going to have an asthma attack.

In the mirror, I held her gaze as I released her breasts and slid my hands slowly down over her writhing belly, positioning my outspread fingers at the top of her thighs, an inch away from her pussy.

Her body went tight.

'Please, Sir,' she said.

I left my hands where they were. 'You don't want me to finger-fuck you, Jane?'

She shook her head, her eyes caught in my gaze. A tiny drop of blood gleamed on her lower lip. She must have bitten herself.

'No, Sir,'

'I could make you let me,' I said.

She licked away the blood and just stared at me in the mirror with her clouded, puppy-dog eyes.

I leaned forwards and drank in the smell of her hair, kissing her on the nape of her neck. Then I moved back to sit down on the sofa.

'Turn to face me,' I said. 'Arms down by your sides.'

Jane turned round, her right hand sliding over to cover her exposed crotch. The thin material clenched tight against her, her pubic hair a dark, obscene smudge.

'Can I pull my panties up, please, Sir?'

I thought for a moment.

'You can, Jane, if, in exchange, you pop your tits out of the cups of your bra.'

Now it was Jane's turn to think. It wasn't long before she nodded and reached down and pulled up her thong. Then she took a deep breath and, with fumbling fingers, pulled the cups of her bra down and back under her breasts. Her nipples were still erect; her small breasts, dusted with a light sheen of sweat, jutted forwards, half invitation, half challenge.

I left her standing there and went to the fridge and poured myself another glass of Chablis. Then I came back and sat down again on the sofa.

'I have a proposition for you, Jane,' I said.

In spite of herself, something like hope flickered momentarily across her face.

'I was going to string this out, keep you on the hook for weeks or months. But I don't think I will.'

Jane nodded eagerly, her breasts bobbing slightly.

'I think you've almost learned your lesson. I think you've almost suffered enough.'

The hope in Jane's eyes went out like a snuffed candle.

'Almost?' she said.

I nodded.

'Do one last thing for me, and I'll let you go. I'll phone Inspector Chandler and say I made a mistake. I'll destroy all the recordings. You'll be home free.'

Jane took a deep breath.

'One last thing?' I could see her mind working.

I nodded. 'I'll let you choose,' I said.

'Between?'

'Straight sex, or a blow-job.'

Jane took a step back, stumbling as if she'd been struck. Surprised me slightly, as you'd have thought she'd have seen it coming. A shopping-trip, however kinky, a spanking and a grope were hardly enough. She stood there, slightly cowed, her back against the mirror, one hand covering her breasts, the other her pussy. A bit late for modesty, I thought.

'Please, Jack,' she said. When I raised my eyebrows, she corrected herself. 'Please, Sir. I've done everything you've asked.'

'You have, Jane,' I said. 'And now you just have to do this.'

'I can't,' she said, through a sudden flurry of tears.

'Why not?' I asked. 'I take it you're not a virgin?'

She shook her head, unable to speak.

'And do you ever give dear old Dave a blow-job?'

Jane sank to the floor, a tangle of white limbs and black satin. She lay there, her face buried in the carpet, sobbing. I waited and drank some wine. When she was calmer I said:

'Well? Get up! And answer the question! Do you suck him off?'

Jane's face was scarlet as she struggled to her feet.

'You can't ask me that,' she said.

I put down my glass, got to my feet and picked up the dildo. Sitting back down again, I smacked the end of the dildo gently against the palm of my left hand.

'You know I can,' I said. 'You know the drill by now, dear. Three - ...'

She barely let me get started on the count.

'Yes,' she whispered.

'Yes what?'

'Yes, I suck Dave off sometimes.'

'Do you enjoy it?'

Jane shook her head.

'But you do it anyway?'

'Yes.'

'Because you love him?'

'Yes.'

'Dave's a lucky guy,' I said.

Jane said nothing.

'So which is it going to be, Jane?' I asked, doing the tapping-the-dildo-in-the-palm-of-my-hand thing again. 'Fuck or suck?'

Jane hesitated. I was just about to do the countdown again, when she said something, so softly I couldn't hear.

'Louder, Jane,' I said.

'Suck,' she said, her voice devoid of all expression. 'I'll suck you off.'

I put the dildo down next to me on the settee, adjusted my position, and unbuttoned my fly. I nodded towards the floor in front of me. Dragging her feet like someone on the way to their own execution, Jane moved towards me, modesty quite forgotten now, her breasts and pussy exposed. She paused in front of me, still standing.

'If I do this,' she said. 'Will that really be the end of it?'

'I give you my word,' I said. First thing tomorrow, I'll erase everything from the hard-drive. You can watch, if you want.'

'And you won't tell anyone? You won't tell my sister?'

I thought of the network of hidden cameras I'd set up in the room, ready to capture Jane's every indignity.

'I won't tell anyone,' I said, stressing the word ever so slightly.

Jane stared at me for a moment, trying to read my face. Then she knelt down and shuffled forwards between my spread legs. Reaching down, I freed my erect cock from my trousers. Jane just stared straight ahead, with a dead expression on her face.

'In your own time, my dear,' I said.

Jane gingerly reached forwards to take hold of me.

'No hands!' I said.

Jane gave me a puzzled look.

'I want a hand-job, I'll ask for one. Hands behind your back!'

Jane hesitated, then did as I'd instructed. Her breasts thrust forwards slightly. She shuffled forwards slightly, then opened her mouth. Her teeth were very white against the smudged pink of her lipstick. I reached down and steered my cock into her mouth. She grimaced, closed her eyes, but did not recoil. Rather clumsily, she started licking and sucking the very tip of my cock.

'Eyes open, Jane,' I said.

She opened her eyes, and though they were red with tears she didn't close them again. She had a distant look on her face, and I wondered where she was trying to imagine she was, or who she was trying to pretend I was. I let her struggle for a minute or two, then said.

'You're not very good at this, Jane, are you?'

Jane stopped licking. Keeping my eyes locked on hers I reached round and gently took hold of the back of her head with both hands. Panic flickered in her eyes, and her hands came round to her front.

'Hands behind your back, Jane,' I said. 'Unless you want me to dildo your arse until it bleeds. I won't warn you again.'

Jane clasped her hands behind her. She let her lower jaw hang low trying to breathe around the end of my cock, her eyes wide with fear.

Tightening my grip slightly on her head, I pulled her slowly but surely onto my cock. She gave a muffled squeal of alarm. I withdrew slightly, letting her gasp in a breath, then thrust into her mouth once more. Her eyes were wild now, like those of a startled animal, and she was making the muffled noise again as I slipped into a rhythm, thrusting in and out of he mouth, fucking her face. Soon I was hitting the back of her throat with the tip of my cock, and each time I did so she'd squeal, and blink and try to pull back, but I could control her head with my hands. I kept expecting her to unclasp her hands, try to fight me off, but she didn't. Maybe she really believed that this would be an end to the nightmare, if she could just see it through to the end.

The only sound in the room was the slurping sound of Jane's mouth moving over my cock, interspersed with desperate gulps for air. Saliva was drooling out of the corner of her mouth, her face was as pillar-box red and slick with sweat.

I came in her mouth. Copiously. She tried to pull away, but I held her on me.

'Swallow, Jane!' I said, pumping slightly with my shrinking cock. 'Every drop!'

She blinked a couple of times, then swallowed several times.

I released my grip on her head and she slipped backwards into a sitting position on the floor, her head in her hands, her body wracked by huge sobs.

'Good girl!' I said.

She tipped her head forwards and tried to spit onto the carpet.

I stood up, reached down, and pulled her gently to her feet. I steered her to an armchair, passed her skirt and blouse, and went upstairs to the toilet.

When I came down she was still sitting in the chair, but she was fully dressed.

'Can I give you a lift anywhere?' I asked, as if she'd just been over to play cards.

She stood up, shook her head, avoided my gaze. She moved towards the front door.

'Did you mean what you said?' she asked. 'Am I off the hook?'

I took a step towards her to lay a hand on her arm, but she recoiled, so I just said:

'Yes, Jane. You won't hear anything more about your unauthorised computer use. You have my word. I shouldn't do it again though, if I were you.'

She risked a glance at me, nodded, then turned and left the flat.

I had a long, leisurely shower, then spent the rest of the evening editing together the footage from the half-dozen web-cams I hidden round the room, making sure that you could see more than enough of Jane, but nothing that could identify me.

I hadn't lied. I wouldn't bring up the disciplinary matter again. The footage, though -- that was another matter. Then again, I'd probably be giving Jane a bit of a rest. Time now to turn my guns on her sister, Gemma.

This was going to be one annual appraisal I thought I'd really enjoy.