The Boss (25 page)

‘Open wide, Felicity.'

As he spoke he'd offered my knickers to my mouth. For one horrified second I could only stare at the little bundle of white cotton, and then I'd obeyed him, opening my mouth and allowing him to feed me my own knickers. Now I was bound and gagged, in the most humiliating way, taking me higher still as I waited for my punishment to start again.

I could still see, and my bottom tightened involuntarily as he picked up Paul's design ruler, a heavy plastic thing half a metre long. It was really going to hurt, and I didn't know whether to be more scared than grateful as he tapped it down on my bottom, cold against my already heated skin.

Then he'd begun to spank again, applying the ruler hard across my bottom, and fast too, never giving me a chance to recover myself as I was smacked into a squirming, wriggling mess, my bottom bucking up and down in my pain, my legs scissored wide to show everything between, my wrists jerking in the wire noose that held them together. It hurt so much, taking me completely out of myself, completely out of control.

I have no idea how long it went on. I was in a haze of pain, my burning bottom the focus of my entire existence, and the only even vaguely rational thought that remained in my head was that I was being punished, well and truly punished. I'd begun to cry long before he stopped, but it was what I needed, to let all my bad feelings out until I was clean.

When he did stop I begged for more, mumbling through my now soggy knickers. I got it, the ruler applied to my bare cheeks in a furious crescendo of smacks at a faster rhythm than the craziest drum beat and every bit as hard. Finally something inside me seemed to break and I was in that same heavenly state he'd put me in before, properly beaten, eager and submissive to his will, eager to serve him. He seemed to know, and gave me a last few firm swats before stopping.

‘Now that's how an office girl should be spanked, and this is what she should do afterwards. On your knees, Felicity.'

He helped me down, guiding me to the floor and into a kneeling position, my hands still tied behind my back, my bottom stuck out behind me, hot and bare. I knew what he was going to make me do, the obvious thing for a well-spanked office girl to say thank you to her boss for punishing her. My knickers were pulled
out of my mouth, his fly came down and his cock and balls came out, offered to me to suck.

I paused just a moment to take in the way he looked, a perfect image, sat on his office chair in immaculate suit and tie save for his already engorged cock and the heavy sack of his balls thrusting rudely from his open fly. All I could do was shuffle forward on my knees to take him in, and he immediately took me by my hair, controlling the motion of my sucking.

My head was spinning with arousal, my pussy in urgent need of attention, but there was nothing I could do, only kneel there as he fucked my mouth, completely subservient to his pleasure. I still trusted him. I knew he'd let me come, maybe make me come, but he was going to be first and he was going to do it in my mouth.

Just knowing that was ecstasy, and when he did it an instant later I nearly came. I swallowed as best I could, an act of worship in itself, and I kept him in as long as possible, until he had to gently detach me by pulling on my hair. I looked up, my vision hazy as I met his eyes. He was smiling.

‘Good girl. You're learning. Now turn around.'

I obeyed, shuffling around on my knees as quickly as I could despite not knowing what he was going to do. My bottom was already ablaze, my punishment complete, but if he wanted to beat me he could. That was his right.

‘Stick your bottom out, right out. That's my girl, back in so your cheeks open properly.'

I'd adopted the position he'd ordered, my bum pushed out with my back in as tight as it would go. My cheeks were wide open, my bottom hole on show to him as well as my sex, nothing hidden, just as it
should be. I craned back over my shoulder to find him smiling down at the view I was providing him. He'd just come, his pleasure more control than sexual, which made it even stronger for me as he spoke.

‘Now, I'm going to masturbate you.'

His words drew a sob from my throat, and another as he reached back, picking something up from the desk. My eyes went wide as I saw what he'd got, two thick marker pens, one red, one black, the rounded tips ideal for insertion into a woman's body. He laughed to see the expression on my face, and spoke as he leant down.

‘Keep it well out, Felicity, one in each hole, I think.'

I was sobbing as I was penetrated, one pen slid deep in up my pussy before being put to my bumhole and up, the other eased into my sex. I was imagining how I'd look as he gave his low, dirty chuckle, kneeling in front of him, my hands tied tight behind me back, my skirt turned high, my bare spanked bottom thrust out, the ends of the pens protruding from my sex and bottom.

His arms came around me and he spoke again.

‘One last detail.'

I felt his fingers on my blouse. One button was eased open, a second, a third and he'd pulled my blouse wide across my breasts. A quick tug and my bra was up, depriving me of my last scrap of decency. He spent a moment fondling my breasts, which brought my shivering up to an uncontrollable peak, then he had sat back, and a moment later applied the rounded toe of his shoe to my sex.

It was a truly awful thing to do. I'd thought he would use his hand, but no, I was to be brought off on his shoe, and I couldn't have stopped him if I'd wanted
to. I was already whimpering with pleasure even as he began to rub, with what he had done to me running through my head, every awful, wonderful detail sending a fresh shiver through my body as I was brought towards orgasm. I thought of how he'd told me I was going to be spanked, not asked me if he could, but told me he was going to do it. I thought of how he'd bared my bottom, of how big his hand felt as it rose and fell on my cheeks, of how he'd tied my hands behind my back with wire, of how he'd pulled my knickers off and used them to gag me, of how he'd beaten me with the ruler, of how he made me grovel at his feet while he fucked my head, and lastly how I was kneeling for him with every single intimate detail of my body bare in his office while he brought me off on his shoe.

How I screamed when I came. They must have heard me in the other warehouses on the estate. They probably heard me in Norwich. I couldn't help it though, and by the time he tried to jam my knickers back in my mouth it was too late. My entire body was wracked by spasm after spasm of ecstasy, unbearably strong but completely unstoppable.

I almost fainted, and when I finished I just collapsed, little shivers still running through my body, but as I came slowly down I knew that I was definitely staying with Stephen. Whatever the sacrifice, it was worth it.

STEPHEN AND PAUL
had decided on Burston, a town to the north of Manchester. It was hardly appealing, although neither of them had any intention of actually living there, which was something. I still found myself constantly having to think back to the way Stephen handled me sexually and the amount of money I'd be earning in order to cope with the idea of leaving Hockford. It meant the end of so much, my entire life really.

The plan was for Stephen to sound out the council and, if things looked promising, to rent out the house in Brettenham and use some of his surplus cash to buy another in the Pennines to the north and west of Burston. I'd never been there, but I had images of rain-swept moors cut by valleys full of terraced houses and factories with enormous chimneys, so different to the woods and fens I was used to.

It also looked certain that the Flying Fortress would be the Rubber Dollies' farewell gig. We'd always been on shaky ground, stumbling from one venue to the next, and getting banned so often I'd lost count, either for public nudity, being too noisy or general mayhem. Never once had we compromised, refusing to accept restrictions even if it meant not being able to play. I was proud of that, but with me gone the band was almost certain to fall apart, and that felt like a betrayal.

I was up and down all week, on a high when I was
with Stephen, fed up when I wasn't. The only thing which remained constant was that I was determined to go out in style. I'd play better, I'd dress better, and I'd be more outrageous. The dressing part meant setting off from Hockford, so Stephen drove me in on the Saturday morning. Unfortunately he didn't leave, but accepted Mum's invitation to drink coffee in the garden. I didn't feel right getting dolled up with him around, so I shoved what clothes and make-up I needed into a bag and left them discussing cheese.

At Josie's I gave myself a one-hundred-per-cent makeover, first stripping off to shower and do my hair, which she helped me tease into stiff blonde spikes, tipped in different colours: vivid green, scarlet, turquoise and black. It looked great, completely transforming me from sweet, neatly dressed office girl to naked, snarling punk. Even Josie was impressed.

‘That's my Fizz. Safety pins?'

‘Sure, why not?'

I'd already taken my earrings out and substituted them for two chains of safety pins. Josie watched, apparently as oblivious as ever to me being stark naked, although it was hard not to think about what she knew. Determined not to change my behaviour in any way, I made a point of not putting anything on as I made up at her dressing table. She sat on the edge of her bed, explaining the order of songs to me.

‘. . . then
Pretty Vacant
and when I get to “oh so pretty” you can start stripping off if you want to.'

‘Count on it. It's our last time, Josie, so I want to go all the way.'

‘What, strip naked?'

‘Yeah, why not?'

‘No reason. You go for it. But who says it's our last time?'

I took a deep breath.

‘Stephen's moving the company to Burston, near Manchester. I'm going with them.'

‘Shit! You're not!'

‘I am. Sorry.'

‘Oh fuck, Fizz, what about the band? And you're my only decent friend, now Sam spends her every waking minute with Billy.'

‘I'm sorry, I really am. It's not an easy choice, believe me, and I'll miss you.'

She drew a heavy sigh and went silent, staring at the floor. There was a huge lump in my throat and I was struggling not to cry, but she suddenly stood up.

‘Fuck it! Let's make it a good one then. You do your strip. Tell you what, we'll do “God Save the Queen”, and before you stand up and salute at the end, rip your skirt off.'

‘I'll take it off first. Nobody will see, behind my kit.'

‘Yeah, cool, that'll shock them!'

‘And . . . um, you can touch me up, if you want, like at the Dog and Duck that time.'

‘Slut!'

I'd sat up a little to get the outline of my lippy exactly right, lifting my bum off the stool. As she spoke she planted a smack across my cheeks, hard enough to make me squeak and leave a stinging spot as I quickly sat down again.

‘Ow! Josie!'

She just laughed and began to rummage in her wardrobe. I carried on making up, not sure whether to go for red and black or rainbow colours to match my
hair. She went into the bathroom to shower, leaving me to it. With my warpaint complete I started on my fingernails, painting each one a different colour. Only when I'd finished did I realise that I'd pretty well have to stay naked until they were dry. Briefly I wondered if there was some subconscious motivation, only to dismiss the idea as silly.

Having said I'd strip there was no way I could back out. What I didn't want to do was end up stark naked on stage with nothing handy, so I packed a pair of knickers, a skirt and a long, loose top into a bag. I'd already decided on clumpy boots instead of heels and fishnets, not only because it was easier to play, but it would be a much stronger image to be strutting around stark naked except for knee-high boots. One of my little black skirts was ideal, because all I had to do was take down the zip at the side and I could slip it off, while a couple of careful snips with Josie's nail scissors set my top up to be ripped off. There was no point in wearing a bra, and after a moment's hesitation I decided to do without knickers either.

By the time Steve arrived with the van we were both ready, Josie looking tough in her leathers, and sexy too, with nothing under her jacket. We certainly had Steve staring, and he cheekily lifted the back of my skirt as we were loading things into the van. I slapped his hand away, just gently, as I would have done in any case, still unwilling to cut off that particular strand of my old life. He simply laughed.

‘No knickers, huh?'

‘No. You'll see why later.'

‘Sounds tempting, but I'm not coming with you.'

‘No, why not?'

‘I'm doing the booze for an all-nighter at Lingfield Farm.'

I hadn't even heard about it, which showed how out of touch I'd been. He went on.

‘So I need the van dropped there. Anytime will do, but keep it down on the booze, yeah?'

‘Who says I'm driving?'

Josie shrugged.

‘It's you or me, girl.'

‘How about Sam?'

‘She's going with Billy.'

‘Oh shit, he's not going to be there, is he? And Martin too, I suppose?'

‘Martin's on duty, she says.'

‘That's a relief. Things are . . . a bit difficult with Martin and I suppose I can just ignore Billy. But look, I hate playing when I'm sober. Couldn't you drive, Josie?'

‘I'm on ten points, Fizz. You're on what, none?'

‘Yes, but . . .'

‘But nothing. Anyway, you've driven this heap loads of times, so you're driving. What's the problem? You can have a couple, and we'll get coffee somewhere after.'

‘All right, if I have to.'

There really wasn't much choice, and she was right. Even a speed camera bust and she'd get her licence suspended, not that it would stop her riding, but then there was the chance of more fines and more hassle. My own licence was clean, if only because every time the cameras had caught me I'd been in stolen cars.