Aspen's Betrayal

"I think I've got just the thing we need," Aspen said. "If you go to my desk drawer and open it, there should be a hairbrush in there. I try to keep it around if I need to freshen up before a meeting, but I think it'll be just fine for our purposes too."

She moved her leg and Crispin sank to his knees on the floor, glad to be free to be able to. He moved to stand.

"I think you should do this on your knees, Crispin," Aspen told him, that peculiar glimmer back in her eyes. "We need to make this humiliating after all, right? So we don't have to do it again?"

Crispin nodded.

"Plus," she said, and leaned back in the chair. "I'd like to see how I've done so far. Bit of a performance review, you know. I'm still getting used to the whole spanking thing, after all."

"I thought you said it wasn't your style," Crispin said as he crawled away from her, back around the desk, feeling her eyes on his stinging ass like a teasing touch.

God, at least there wasn't anyone else in here right now. And at least crawling behind the desk took him out of view of the hallway and whoever had been passing by.

"It's not," Aspen said, and sighed, as he reached for the drawer and opened it. "I don't think it's a fair way to treat all of you on the office floor. But it's good to know I can. And anyway..."

She paused, and giggled.

"If you had told us when we were in law school together, fighting it out for the top, that this was how it would end up, would it have even sounded possible? I'm sorry, I know it's mean, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying myself."

Crispin found the hairbrush and his heart sank. It was a large thing, metal and antique by the look of it, with a gilded floral pattern on it. He'd never seen it before in his life. A new thing, since she'd made manager at Marzanna.

This was going to sting. A lot.

He took the brush and began crawling back toward Aspen, who had her hands on her hips, one leg crossed over the other, as she watched him with something somewhere between amusement and pity.

"Oh come on, don't look so sad," she said, teasing. "Be glad I don't whip, just on principle. Chaya whips. She's damn good at it too. It's just a hairbrush."

Chaya would whip. Talking to Chaya, say, even the weather basically felt like a whipping.

Crispin approached her on his knees, aware, once again, that he was in view of the open door. And now he could hear voices -- some stifled laughter -- even though Aspen had stopped talking.

There were people out there. Managers.

He felt the blood rush to his face again and he offered her the brush.

She blinked, then offered him an apologetic smile and leaned down, put her elbows on her knees and nodded to the hairbrush.

"What is it you'd like me to do with this, Crispin?" She asked.

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Ask me," she said. "I'm doing this for you, I mean."

He sighed, and tried harder to pick up on the muffled conversation in the hallway outside. He could hear Chaya's voice. Just not the words.

"Would you spank me," he said in a low voice.

"What?" Aspen said. "I couldn't heard you."

"Would you spank me," he said, louder this time.

"Are you just making demands now?" Aspen asked. "No manners at all? No 'please' or 'thank you?'"

Crispin ground his teeth. "Aspen, would you please spank me?"

She cocked her head as if the whole idea had never occurred to her before. "With what though?"

The chatter in the hallway had died down, as if whoever was out there was waiting for what came next. Expecting it.

"Aspen would you please spank me with this hairbrush?"

Laughter from the hallway, and Crispin felt the blush deepen in his cheeks.

"I think I can manage that for you, Crispin," she said, no attempt to hide her smile anymore. "Come here."

She put him over her knee again, secured her right leg behind his knees once more, and again Crispin was reminded of the fact that he couldn't really escape this hold even if he wanted to. He was stuck here for as long as she wanted.

And she wasn't just smacking him with her hand anymore.

That became apparent as soon as she brought the hairbrush down on his bottom for the first time. The sting felt hot at first, and it rippled out from where she'd smacked him, but he didn't have time to consider how it felt because she'd already moved onto his second cheek and delivered another resounding blow there too.

Crispin bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut, but he couldn't stay quiet for long. Not that this part of the spanking was especially quiet anyway. Especially with the office door open, just about everyone with an office down this hallway would be able to hear the rhythmic smacks of the hairbrush against his bare ass.

God this really did hurt though. As fast as she was spanking him there was never any time to recover. And all the ridges and contours on the hairbrush's gilded surface were going to leave some serious bruises, he could already tell.

"It's reddening up nicely," Aspen said, when she paused.

He would've killed to have her rub his ass by then -- just anything to abate the stinging -- but all she did was poke at it or pull it to get a better look at her handiwork.

"I might be better at this than I thought."

Crispin opened his eyes and was about to respond when he realized Aspen hadn't actually been talking to him.

She'd been talking to Chaya, who now leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, a cruel smirk distorting her features.

As Crispin watched she made her way into the office, around the chair where Aspen sat, to look at Crispin's bare, beaten ass. Without thinking, he tried to move, tried to shift his weight or cover his bottom with a hand, but Aspen grabbed his wrist and pinned it behind his back without so much as breaking conversation with Chaya.

"Yeah, it's looking good," Chaya said from behind him. "I'd say you might want to go a little bit lower, like -- this right here is something to aim for," she said, giving a savage poke to the spot where his ass and high thigh met. "That's a sit spot."

She gave him a smack on the bottom and Crispin yelped.

"Hit him there and he'll feel it even on Monday," she said. "I've got him working for me, digging though some caselaw, so it'll be a long time he's planted in his chair."

Aspen moved the hairbrush down, to the area just below his buttocks but above his thigh. Then she landed an especially hard smack of the hairbrush right there.

Crispin couldn't help it; he shrieked. Behind him, he heard Chaya cackle.

"Keep that up," Chaya told Aspen. "Same spot if you can. I always get a good reaction when I do that."

"You're such a bitch," Aspen said, but now it was her turn to laugh too.

And it wasn't as if she let up. Crispin bit down harder on his lip, drawing blood now as the hairbrush rained down again and again and again on his already-sore backside.

Then, Aspen stopped.

"What do you think?" She asked Chaya.

There was a pause, and Crispin felt what he had to assume were Chaya's hands on his ass, rough, uncaring about the bruises -- or perhaps actively seeking them out as she inspected him like a piece of meat, spread his cheeks.

"Not bad, honestly, Aspen," Chaya said. "I'd consider it a good warmup."

Aspen laughed, then gave him one final slap on the butt.

It wasn't a hard slap -- not in comparison to everything that had just happened -- but it still stung, bruises and all.

"All right, get in the corner while I take care of a few things," she said. "I need to be downtown at the Chancellor for dinner in a half hour."

Crispin sank to his knees and then stood -- she didn't tell him he had to crawl this time -- and reached for his underwear around his ankles.

"She didn't say to pull those up, bitch," Chaya said. "Corner. Now."

Crispin turned to obey, but then Chaya took the brush from Aspen's hands.

"And here," she said. "Hold this with your hands behind your back while you do. Do this right."

Crispin took the hairbrush and headed for the corner, ass on fire enough to limp as he went.

Behind him, Aspen sighed.

"Well that was fun," she said. "Can I get you a drink before I go, girl? Made it through the week."

"Sure," Chaya said, and Crispin could hear the whiskey tumbling into another glass.

There was a pause, and Crispin heard footsteps.

"You see? That wasn't so hard," Chaya said. "The office floor grunts need this. You can keep them in line this way now."

"Oh, no, I think Crispin and I were just settling some old law school rivalries, was all," Aspen told her, and Crispin heard clacking on the keyboard. "It was a personal thing. Well. And something Lady Cailleach asked me to do."

Crispin blinked into the wall, tried to turn around while keeping the hairbrush in his hands behind his back.

Something Lady Cailleach asked her to do?

More typing on the keyboard.

"Perfect," Aspen said. "Got that email sent off to her. I got to run, but he's all yours Chaya."

All yours Chaya? Crispin thought.

"What did Cailleach ask for?" Chaya asked.

"Make it painful," Aspen said. "Make it humiliating. It's got to be over the knee at least in part and it's supposed to be over his bare bottom. But other than that, it's all up to you. You can use the whip too, if you want to."

"Interesting," Chaya said.

There was a pause, and he could feel the two pairs of eyes on his back and his ass now.

"It might be good for him to have the whip," Aspen said. "No reason to avoid it just because I didn't use it. Oh. Also."

She paused, and he could tell she was finishing her drink.

"You can tell him you're recording it, but if you fake it -- like I did -- then he has to start over and get someone else to spank him," she said. "Cailleach wants it recorded. But I'd imagine we could pass him around to all the managers if we all just played that game."

"Duly noted," Chaya said. "Have fun tonight girl."

"Will do," Aspen said. "I'd say don't hurt him too bad, but I think I know you better than that Chaya."

Crispin heard both their laughter and then he heard Aspen's footsteps fading down the hallway, out into the Friday night city, to seize a piece of a night he himself would be spending at Chaya's mercy.