Eighty One - Laura's Story Pt. 12

The journey came to an end all too soon, but then it would when Laura wanted it to never end. Having long given up attempting to listen for clues which may divulge her whereabouts, the stopping of the car engine took her by surprise. The doors opened and closed, footsteps passed close to her head and she heard the feint sound of a doorbell ringing then indistinct voices, one possibly female. The footsteps returned and stopped at the car. The lid opened; distant sounds of the city flooded in. Perhaps she was in London. She hoped so, being physically close to home, and Andrew would at least be of some comfort to her.

"We're here, keep still while I lift you," the unfamiliar voice said. Once she was upright he supported her while telling her to stretch her legs and find her feet. "Ready?" he asked after allowing her time to recover. She nodded once. The shaking in her legs wasn't due to her cramped position during the journey, but the real fear of facing the unknown. A thought passed through her mind, 'Please don't let it be an old, ugly or fat one' as the young girl had described. 'It may have been a turn on for her but not for me.'

Despite hearing the sounds of others fairly close by she assumed they were somewhere secluded or even private. Leading a naked woman around in the city would be sure to stir up some interest. A tugging at the bag and a hand on her elbow guided her up the cool stone steps and into a carpeted area. The large, heavy door closed. They passed quite a way into the building, her bare feet detecting wooden floors as well as carpeted areas.

"She's here," a female voice announced after they had passed through the last door. The hand left her elbow and, from the ensuing silence she would guess that the two people who delivered her had left the room. Laura stood where she had been placed, her breathing heavy and rapid. She felt as though she were going to wet herself and wished she had made one last visit to that old toilet. The quiet tapping of a keyboard told her that she had not, after all, been left alone. It went on for some time, the person making her wait, feeding her apprehension.

Eventually it stopped and she heard a chair being moved. She sensed more than heard the person stop in front of her for a few moments before slowly circling her, no doubt assessing the goods they had paid for. They must be able to see the shaking and she wouldn't be surprised if they could hear the blood rushing through her ears. Moving behind her again she felt the cuffs being removed. Even when they were gone she kept her hands held together in the same position. She flinched when she felt warm fingers gently brush her nipple before moving upwards to undo the cord holding the bag. As it was pulled away from her head her eyes needed time to adjust to the light.

"Hello Laura," the familiar voice quietly said.

"What! You mean bastard," she yelled as she lunged forward beating her fists against Weston's chest. "You scared the shit out of me, how could you do that. What the fuck were you thinking?" The tears flowed and the berating continued. Weston placed his arms around her for his own protection as much as her comfort. Minutes passed before he spoke to her again, choosing to let her purge the anger.

"Shh, shh, you're okay now. Come on calm down." With her initial anger subsiding she spoke more rationally and he released her.

"Do you know what I've been through for you and your damned game? Do you?" She asked wiping away her tears.

"Of course and that's how you earned that." He pointed out the black queen sitting on his desk. The reward was of little comfort to Laura. Walking over to the desk he pushed a button and spoke into the machine. "Grace would you come in here for a moment please." Then he turned back and spoke to Laura. "While I can understand the reason for your outburst, and even sympathize to a certain extent, you know we can't tolerate such rudeness. Kneel on the table over there." The relief she felt at being in the care of Weston overcame any thought of refusing. She would take whatever he did to her in preference to the imagined alternatives.

She crossed to the low table standing in front of a leather Chesterfield sofa. "Come on, up you get." She knelt on all fours, seeing her own reflection in the high gloss, French polished surface. "Down onto your elbows and lower your head. Grace, hold her arms." He walked around the desk, opened a draw and took out a long wooden ruler. "Knees wide apart Laura and keep still." She found it hard to hold her position, her sweaty knees sliding on the glassy surface.

Laura didn't think it would be too bad--he hadn't taken his jacket off. It was more to make a point she thought, re-establishing the pecking order. The first strokes stung like hell but she absorbed the pain well. He worked over a large area rather than concentrating blows one on top of the other, perhaps working on the visual aspect rather than inflicting pain. Just as she was starting to feel the beating reach an uncomfortable level he stopped. "Thank you Grace, that will be all for now." He sat back at his desk, unscrewed the top of his fountain pen, then picked up some papers.

"You can stay where you are until Andrew comes to collect you, which should be..." he paused while looking at his watch, "just over an hour, I should think."

During the time Laura waited, Grace was in and out of the office asking for documents to be signed, checking on dates for appointments and all of the usual things people did in offices. They both largely ignored the naked woman kneeling on the table with her legs spread indecently open.

Laura raised her head and looked out of the French doors onto the small neat gardens. "Keep still," he chided. She thought she heard a hint of amusement in his voice. She put her head back down, hiding her smile. She thought about the last time, not so long ago, that she was there in his office. The business woman, there to discuss a contract with an associate. She had felt awkward, she remembered, not knowing whether she should be more formal or if the meeting was an extension of the charity social event.

She remembered she had worn her dark suit with a white blouse, power dressing to impress an important man from the business world. Look at how things had changed. He was the man with whom she discussed buying and selling shares in her business. That same man, she realised, only had to raise his eyes from his paperwork to look directly at the prominent and spread buttocks before him and the private openings nestling between. The thought did not upset her, for some reason it all seemed so natural.

Looking around his office, the half she could see without moving her head, she took in the ambiance of the place. Perhaps she should remodel hers, try to create a more formal, intimidating atmosphere. But then she thought better of it. The huge dark wood desk, leather Chesterfield sofas and heavy curtains weren't her thing, not any woman's thing she thought. The only women she came across who had offices like that were solicitors or lawyers and they were often young and newly qualified. They looked so out of place peeping over the big desk. No, it wasn't for her. Besides, she quite liked being intimidated.

The ringing of the phone brought her thoughts back to her present situation. Her hopes rose, could it be Andrew saying he was on his way? No, it was a business call. The whole time Weston talked Laura supposed he was taking in the view. She wondered if he liked seeing her breasts hanging down, the hard, dark nipples almost touching his expensive table. She decided he probably did, he had brushed his hand against them after all.

It was some minutes later she heard a knock at the door and Grace showed Andrew in. "Mr Miller's here," she said. Those three words were music to Laura's ears and unwanted tears formed in the corner of her eyes.

"Andrew, how nice to see you," Weston said as the two shook hands. Andrew looked at Laura's punished rear before raising his eyebrows at Weston. "I think relief got the better of her," he explained, "and we had to issue a little reminder." Andrew nodded his approval. "Well she's all ready to go," he said, then he spoke in Laura's direction. "You can get up now Laura and come over here." After stretching her legs that had been immobile for so long she slowly walked over to join them. She couldn't keep the smile from her face as Andrew hugged and kissed her. Weston opened a cupboard door and took out a dark burgundy cape. "Put this round her, we don't want her causing any scandal do we?" The cape ended six inches above the knee and there were no arm holes. It certainly didn't look like normal day wear but was better than being naked.

"It looks like this little episode is over then," Weston said, "we both have our queens back and no harm done." He looked pointedly at Laura who showed no outward reaction.

"It would seem so yes," Andrew said, but there is still the matter of the outstanding pawn."

"Yes, how long do we have to get it back to you?" Laura asked. "When is the game officially over?" Weston pursed his lips as if deep in thought.

"I would think we could get it all done and dusted this coming week, don't you?"

"But we have no idea where it is, where to start looking." Laura said, the unfairness of it all showing in her tone.

"Laura, against all my expectations you completed the game, and won, so you keep all your shares. I'm sure that somebody of your character and stamina won't let one little pawn prevent you from winning my shares." The statement left Laura lost for words.

"No, I suppose not," was the uncertain reply.

"There we are then, that's all sorted," he said, as though it were true. "I'll be in touch when it's time to complete the deal."

With that he showed them out, wishing them a good weekend. Just as they were about to close the door Weston called out, "oh Laura, don't forget you owe me fourteen and a half thousand pounds."

"What! And how do you work that out?"

"That's what it cost me to buy you at the auction, and save that pretty backside from goodness knows what. Very impressive by the way, for a two week contract." He walked back toward his desk and said,

"I'll see you next week then."