The Boss (24 page)

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Authors: Monica Belle

BOOK: The Boss
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‘It's only a minor detail, surely?'

‘Far from it, I assure you. Do sit down anyway.'

Puzzled, I took a seat. Mr Phelps began to speak, only to stop immediately as both Stephen and Paul appeared at the door, obviously summoned almost immediately after I'd left the warehouse. Mr Phelps began again, in his usual curt manner.

‘I regret to say that a serious difficulty has arisen.'

It was Stephen who answered him, with the same blend of energy and optimism he always used when facing the council.

‘Nothing too disastrous, I trust? We are now fully ready to begin installation, saving the matter Miss Cotton was here to discuss and one or two other minor details.'

He cast me a questioning glance, but I could only shrug in return as Mr Phelps went on.

‘This is more than a minor detail. In fact, we will be unable to go ahead with the installation.'

Stephen looked genuinely astonished.

‘Unable to go ahead? But, Mr Phelps, we have the contracts signed and agreement on –'

‘Nevertheless we are unable to go ahead. I have a direct instruction from the Home Office to that effect.'

‘The Home Office?'

I could see Mr Phelps swelling slightly as his sense of importance rose.

‘The Home Office, who in turn have received a communication from the American Embassy to the effect that nobody in Hockford, public or private, may erect or use any system of security cameras that employs facial recognition technology.'

Both Stephen and Paul now looked completely stunned.

‘What has the American Embassy got to do with it? This is hardly their jurisdiction, and –'

Mr Phelps broke in again.

‘It is a matter of military security. The Commander at Hockwold Airbase has made a specific request that we do not store facial recognition data on his personnel, nor any other American personnel.'

Mr Burrows added a remark.

‘I fear your system has become the victim of its own efficiency, Stephen, and unfortunately we have no choice but to comply.'

I really thought Stephen was going to swear, but he managed to remain calm as he answered.

‘Can I assume that the contract will be honoured as it stands?'

‘Certainly.'

That was that essentially, although they went on for quite a bit. Eventually we left, crossing the road directly to the Bull by unspoken consent. As soon as he'd put a bottle of white wine and three glasses on the table Stephen spoke again.

‘How in hell's name did the Yanks get wind of it?'

I could guess but I wasn't saying anything. It was only then that it really sank in. I'd done it, maybe not on purpose, maybe not by some bold and clever scheme, but I'd done it anyway, simply by warning a boyfriend not to get horny with me unless he wanted us to be on public record. Quite possibly I'd also made myself redundant, but that no longer mattered. I was the boss's girlfriend.

Paul shook his head.

‘Bloody Yanks. So what now?'

Stephen considered for a moment before answering.

‘Well, we still have our stock. The basic principle is still sound, so I suggest we start up again somewhere else, somewhere that isn't crawling with Americans.'

‘Not East Anglia then?'

‘No. Hmm . . . you didn't tell any of your American friends about the system did you, Felicity?'

‘No, no, absolutely not. I'm not surprised they heard about it though. Everybody who works for the council knew, just about. One of the women there probably has a boyfriend on the base or something.'

‘No doubt you're right. Damn.'

He broke off to take a swallow of wine, then spoke again.

‘That leaves us at a bit of a loose end then, except for deciding where we go next. You will be staying with us, won't you, Felicity?'

‘Yes, of course, if you want me?'

‘Absolutely. You know how everything works, and I don't suppose it would be much fun for you playing house in a strange town?'

‘No, that's true. Do you have any idea where we'll be going?'

‘Not really, no. We need a small town or the logistics become impractical, and it has to have a high crime rate for the sort of thing the ZX is good at stopping. I told you Hockford had the highest per capita rate of taking and driving in the country, didn't I, which is why we chose to set up here in the first place. The second was somewhere in South Wales, if I remember rightly.'

Paul frowned.

‘Wasn't it that place outside Manchester?'

I didn't really care either way. They were equally remote, giving me a touch of fear and homesickness at the thought of breaking off my ties with Hockford and even Suffolk so completely. Before, I'd always felt tied down, but suddenly my past life seemed idyllic, at least compared to starting again in another small town
where I didn't even know anybody. I'd be completely dependent on Stephen, both financially and emotionally. The only other person I'd even know, at least at first, would be Paul, and while he was a nice enough guy we really didn't have much in common.

Yet I'd be earning money, and I told myself I'd soon make new friends. What sort of friends was a different matter. At best it seemed likely I'd always have to keep a part of myself secret, and while that had been part of the thrill when I was first with Stephen it didn't seem so appealing in the long term.

They'd begun to discuss the relocation, leaving me to sip my wine and deal with my mixed emotions. I did want to be with Stephen, badly, but the cost of doing so seemed to keep rising. Was I even in love with him? I wasn't sure. I wasn't even sure if I understood what love was. It was supposed to mean that he was the sole object of my affection, wasn't it? All other men should have been beneath my notice, but I still had affection for my friends. Maybe it was just the sex I was in love with, and particularly the spankings. Stephen alone brought out those feelings in me, but as Martin and I had lain together in the long grass with his huge hand cupping my bottom I'd been wondering how it would feel from him, and from Josie too, who wasn't even a man.

I was going to get drunk if I didn't leave the wine bottle alone, and I swallowed what remained in my glass before putting it down. Paul and Stephen were now discussing the rival virtues of graffiti and car crime for pissing off town councils, but I at last managed to get a word in.

‘Do you mind if I go shopping?'

Stephen responded with a casual gesture.

‘Go ahead. There are a few things I'll need you to do in the office, but there's no rush any more.'

‘Thanks.'

I kissed him and left the pub, feeling slightly tipsy and very mixed up. Even shopping didn't help, because all the things I needed meant one more step towards the new me, and I wasn't sure how well I got on with her. After spending ten minutes staring into windows I changed my mind and decided to take a walk instead, only to stop as I saw that Martin, Billy and several of their friends were seated in Buzz Shack.

Eventually I was going to have to tell Martin that I was now with Stephen, but I really didn't want to do it in front of a group of his friends. I walked past, only to reconsider. It was hard to bear the thought of how they'd look at me if I simply said I'd chosen Stephen over Martin and that was that. On the other hand, I now had an excuse.

As far as he was aware I was a loyal employee of Black Knight Securities but simply didn't fancy being caught on camera while he fondled my buttocks. By passing on what I'd told him about the cameras he had put my job at risk, and I was hardly likely to be happy about it. Still I hesitated. I liked Martin and I really didn't want to cut him off. Then again I'd told myself I'd be faithful to Stephen and it was better to let Martin think I was angry with him and so make a clean break of it. Finally I turned on my heel, determined to go through with it, but still unsure if I was being an angel or a total bitch.

I put on a deliberately angry expression as I walked into Buzz Shack. Martin had seen me, and stopped with his bottle of beer raised in a frozen salute as he saw my face.

‘Hi, Fizz, what's the matter?'

‘You know perfectly well what the matter is, or if you don't you should do.'

‘I don't. What am I supposed to have done?'

His friends had begun to exchange looks and snigger, except for Billy, who was already looking aggressive. I forced myself to go on.

‘You told everybody about the cameras, didn't you?'

It wasn't what he'd been expecting at all, and it took him a moment to change gear.

‘The cameras? Yeah . . . sure I did. I had to, Fizz, it was a matter of base security. Sorry.'

I just melted. He sounded so genuinely apologetic and yet confident about his decision, while I knew I wasn't being truthful. Instead of telling him how he'd lost Black Knight Securities their contract and nearly cost me my job, I found myself stammering.

‘Oh . . . I suppose so, but still . . .'

‘Hey, I'm really sorry, Fizz, but it had to be done. Have a mixer, yeah?'

‘No, thanks . . . I . . . I'll see you around, Martin. Bye.'

I'd failed utterly, unable to tell him what I needed to. As I walked away up the High Street I was wishing he didn't have to be so nice about everything, because I'd have to let him down eventually, and when I did it would be all the more painful. Stephen was now the only man who had any claim on me, and that was how it should be, or so I kept telling myself as I walked rapidly up to Town Bridge and down the steps. I needed to walk, to get away from people and be alone for a while, but I didn't want to take the route Martin and I had walked before.

The other way was better anyway, along the river and out of town past the Hattersley Estate. Our
cameras were still there, making me intensely self-conscious until I could cross the river. I slowed as I started across the fields, on absolutely flat land, the same route Pete and I had come into town on after burning out Mr Phelps' car.

I walked right out to the edge of the fens, and turned back only when I realised that my smart shoes weren't really suitable for walking in. After a life spent mostly in trainers I simply hadn't realised how much heels could rub, and how physically inefficient that made me, another black mark against suits. In the end I took a bus back into town, arriving at the warehouse to find Stephen drinking coffee in front of his computer screen and no sign of Paul.

‘Sorry I was so long.'

‘Don't mention it . . . actually, do.'

He'd pushed his chair back as he spoke, making a lap. I knew exactly what that meant.

‘I . . . I'm not really in the mood.'

‘Ah, but you soon will be. Come along, let's not have any nonsense.'

I made a face.

‘What about Paul?'

‘He's at the council offices, dismantling the system.'

‘Oh.'

‘Over my knee, Felicity.'

I was still pulling a face, but I went, draping myself across his lap in the now familiar position with my head hung down over the orange carpet squares. After all, I was due a punishment for failing to cut Martin off and it was so easy to obey Stephen, as my boss and as my lover. Everything about him and something about the office made it appropriate for me to be spanked.

His fingers found the hem of my skirt and I closed my eyes as I was put through the little ritual of exposure: skirt up, knickers down, the way he liked to say it, savouring every word. As my bottom came bare my lips had parted in a quiet sigh, quite involuntary. All my cares seemed to be slipping away in the face of my rising excitement, and despite my vulnerability I'd never felt so protected.

Stephen began to spank me, my body limp and surrendered across his knees, my bottom bare, as a bad girl's should be while she's punished. And what better way to punish me, for taking too long a lunch break, for anything he pleased, over his knee in the office and smack, smack, smack on my bare bottom.

It began to get harder, stinging my flesh and making me kick a little. Stephen changed his grip, holding me in place and lifting one knee to bring my bottom up and make my cheeks come open. Now it hurt, and he could see every intimate detail of my body, as was his right. He knew what he was talking about too, because he'd taken me from a fit of the sulks to ecstasy in a couple of minutes. I needed to be spanked. I really, genuinely needed to be spanked. He stopped.

‘Hmm, perhaps a little addition, as you're such a bad girl.'

He was playing, but I felt it was real, because of my emotions and because I'd lied to him, because I'd told Martin about the cameras and implied I'd see him again, and because of a thousand other things I'd done. Oh, yes, I really deserved to be spanked, and more, which was exactly what I was going to get.

One of the cameras they'd been experimenting with was on the desk, a jumble of wires hanging from the end. As I twisted my head around I could just about
see as he detached a length of cable, his face set in the calm, cruel smile I knew so well. He adjusted himself a little, leaving me more evenly balanced across his knees as he spoke.

‘Put your hands behind your back, Felicity.'

I obeyed without hesitation. He immediately caught my wrists, crossing them in the small of my back and looping the piece of wire around them. A couple of twists, a knot, and I was helpless, not merely surrendered to him, but dependent on him. I'd begun to sob as he tucked my office skirt up under my bound wrists, hoping and dreading that with me now completely helpless he would spank me hard.

He wasn't finished. Instead of going back to my punishment, he began to hum one of his favourite tunes, and to lever my knickers further down my legs, and off. As they came free of my ankles I was left nude from the waist down but for stay-ups and shoes, leaving my legs free to come wide and expose my sex more fully then ever. That wasn't why he'd done it.

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