At her interview, Kay had worn a smart, efficient looking suit. Skirt just above the knee, and her bust maintained, even restrained, within its closely fitted jacket. Other than to pass a brief compliment on her professional appearance, I made no real mention of dress code. You can judge for yourself whether this was foolish or wise.
She wore a similar outfit on her first day, and Jean Sealy, her section head and my assistant, suggested that there was no reason to comment at all. We agreed that she seemed experienced, efficient and knowledgeable, the perfect addition to our team.
Over the next few weeks, however, Kay gradually changed her appearance until by the third Friday her hemline was far more than six inches above her knee, and the revelation of her awesome cleavage, left almost nothing to the imagination.
Every time she bent to pick anything up all male eyes turned, hoping to see more thigh, or something better. As she turned, her large breasts shook from side to side a few times, until coming to a temporary rest. Although her work was excellent, the office as a whole was suffering. Either as a distraction, or because of resentment, everybody else's work was suffering.
After conferring with Jean Sealy, we resolved that she should make her aware of the situation, before our bonuses evaporated with the missed targets. Jean was to have, what we hoped, would be a quiet word, putting an end to these distractions. This turned out not quite as planned.
Our office is a large, open plan unit, with partitions dividing work stations. To see over these, one would have to stand on a chair, this is discouraged. Their informal meeting was scheduled for the end of the day, after the rest of the staff had left. Such matters are best held in private. I stayed out of sight to obtain my own view of proceedings.
As Jean was going through the office dress code, her junior interrupted, saying that nothing had been said by either her or myself at interview, or induction stage, and other workers should be mature enough to concentrate and work professionally.
Mrs. Sealy does not like to be contradicted and almost lost her usual cool. I could hear the change to her voice, pressure rising, the anger starting to boil, she spoke in measured, controlled tones.
"You do not set the rules, I do, with Mr Martin. Your presence is a disruption. Your behavior is deliberate, even planned." Her words failed her, I knew she would be clenching her hands repeatedly.
"I have done nothing wrong, this is the 21st century" replied Kay, she had raised her voice enough to be just challenging, without being aggressive."There is nothing either of you can do!"
"Oh yes there is, young lady" her choice of words betrayed her age, even if her body, mature, but as attractive as one ten years younger, did not."You can be dismissed!" The last word came out with such venom I hardly recognized her, but order seemed to be restored, power was back where it belonged.
It was already obvious that Kay was talented, and not just physically, but this was no idle threat, I would back her, and would have to let Kay go. Would Jean be sure of that? Once started, there is no turning back. There was a deafening silence, I could not even hear my own breathing.
I removed my shoes and placed a chair at a point where I would be hidden behind some ornamental ferns and grasses as I peered over the top. The two women were facing each other, braced, staring, as though ready to spring, catlike, at each other.
I realized at once that this could really be true of Jean, being Mrs Sealy was a nominal title only, there hadn't been a Mr Sealy in her life for twenty years. There had been a Pamela, a Harriet, and lately there was Margaret. None of this affected her work so it meant nothing, until now!
I watched as her tongue slowly moistened her lips, she almost drooled. The truth seemed to be that she was even more distracted, by Kay's appearance, than the men! Kay began to protest, angry but unsure of her ground, this had the effect of dragging Jean back to the present.
In arguing, her weakness was highlighted, I could see that she really needed, or wanted the job, or both. Was it the money, the men she could lead by the nose, or the prospect of early, and deserved, promotion? I could also see that Jean suspected all this and played her hand.
"You can keep your job, if you take your punishment," she announced, hoping her voice was cool and controlled, but fearing that there might be an element of doubt. Where was this going, I wondered, and I was not the only one.
"Punishment? What are you talking about?" Kay was clearly gob smacked, "What can you mean?"
"If you accept my judgment, you can keep your position, but your appearance will, in future be dictated by me!" Had she over-played her cards? Now I was seeing a new Jean Sealy, I stared with as much disbelief as her intended victim.
"You're not the judge, you can't make me, this is Edwardian, illegal. What, what, what punishment?" Kay's voice trailed off, she stared in horror as her supervisor picked up a ruler from the desk, and demonstrated on her own palm, once, twice! The smirk on Jean's face was triumphant.
Kay was plainly staggered, the suggestion was more than a shock, it was a bombshell, she clutched at the desk to steady herself. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out, until in almost a whisper, she said, "No, not that, not ever" her voice trailed off.
"Then out you go, pack your bags, depart." Victory was within her grasp, she called! I nearly fell of the chair!
Although it seemed to take forever, Kay appeared to have surrendered, in her mind at least, almost immediately. The look on her face betrayed her thoughts. The money and the prospects were excellent, but in the short term though, could she really turn and submit? It was plain she still could still hardly believe it.
A not unattractive woman, old enough to be her mother, was preparing to beat her, with a ruler, as though she was a naughty school-girl. Then slowly as if in a trance, her body turned, and in a single movement, she bent, oh so slowly, and came to rest on her hands and elbows. Settling her feet about four inches apart, she closed her eyes, swallowed hard and waited.
But there was no swish, no smack, no pain, not quite yet.Triumphantly the victor was savoring the moment, the magnificent vision before her eyes, and the prospects ahead. She took a step to the left side of Kay, raised her arm, and then paused, it was her other hand that moved to its quarry, the hem of Kay's skirt.
As the soft, material rose, it revealed what all who had studied and admired her knew, Kay had an almost perfect, shapely, gorgeous arse, generous and inviting. As she felt the unexpected disclosure, Kay made to rise and turn, "Stay," was the response, not loud, but firm and cold, commanding.
Like an obedient spaniel she resumed her stance, and this was when the ruler found its mark! Kay jerked so much that her whole body shook, she almost lost her footing. Then the next smack came down across her vulnerable cheeks. This time she yelped, the pain was obviously intense, and it appeared to run through her body like electricity. Then as a third approached I realized that no limit had been placed on this at all.
"Oh no more, that's enough, its painful, it really hurts you bitch!" Kay seemed angry and a little afraid.
"When I decide," came the reply, "And verbally abusing your manager only makes things worse." Her words became deeds. She grasped the waist of her tights and dragged them to her victims knees.
"Take them off, all the way," she ordered. As a stunned Kay obediently wriggled them down, my admiring eyes surveyed the reddening lines, that betrayed Jean's handiwork. As Kay reached down to remove the tangled material I smiled to myself, knowing that It was not two eyes that witnessed her humiliation, but two pairs of eyes.
And the scene before me was having a clear effect on my cock which was stiffening up nicely.Bending forward again Kay was even more vulnerable than she had been before, if that were possible. No longer encased in the firm hold of stretched nylon, her cheeks began to redden and twitch.
Also the tiny scrap of material that passes for underwear these days, was sending a clear invitation to me to fuck her brains out, although she wasn't completely naked, she was vulnerable and looked as horny as hell! Her tormentor was now caressing her waist, hips, and thighs with an oh so gentle touch. Kay wiggled her butt. Was she getting turned on by this? Another wiggle, I surely did hope so.
"Have you finished you cow!" Kay challenged as best she could. There could be only one response, was she encouraging it? Because as sure as eggs is eggs, she got it! An open hand this time, the rule discarded, first on one cheek then on the other, then again, and again and again!
"Cow am I? I'll give you cow!" And she dished out such a series of vehement smacks that she had to rub, and shake her hand to release her own pain, continuing until those, once pale, cheeks would almost glow in the dark! When she stopped, Kay wasn't crying, or screaming, or even protesting, she was moaning, with pleasure?
Everything had changed so suddenly, and I became aware of a movement, slowly, rhythmically, swaying. By bending first one knee, then the other, Kay was waving her whole rear at her tormentor, her ex-tormentor. The movement became more urgent, demanding, insistent, magnetic, and hypnotic. In disbelief Jean's fingers reached out and caressed, stroked, and moving the scrap of sopping material aside, one, two, then three of them entered Kay's grateful, pouting, pussy.
As she knelt behind her eager junior, her senses were obviously totally seduced by the pungent aromas of those fast flowing juices. As one Kay moved her feet further apart, and arched her back downwards, displaying her cunt in all its magnificent glory; and Jane, drawn ever closer, opened her mouth, pushed her tongue forward, and began to lick and suck greedily.
Their passion increased to a point long passed where either could stop, as she licked, she also rubbed, one hand on Kay's exotic body, her other, thrust crudely, in her own wet pleasure palace, masturbating feverishly. I could clearly hear their moaning and sighing, and see their mounting pleasures.
End of part one