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and scurry away with the amused voyeur in tow.

      “If I stay they’ll come to blows,” Laura explained to Hugo, who seemed reluctant to exit.

      “I should have thought you’d enjoy that,” Hugo remarked, allowing himself to be dragged down the stairs by his pretty companion. “Marguerite would be selling tickets.”

      “Gee, she’s pretty,” Randy sighed, to taunt William.

      “Randall, let’s go outside,” William suggested.

      “When the chicks are in here? Listen, we’ll do lunch, okay? Later.” Randy had spotted Damaris Perez and the next instant he was gone.

      “Believe it, asshole,” William muttered, as he too caught a glimpse of his ex-secretary, encased in a PVC jumper that glittered like black ink, clinging crustacean-like to Michael Flagg’s impressive arm.

      “I’m glad you’ve left your husband,” Hugo said, when Laura had had her first drink. “That means we can finally play.”

      For the first time since he’d known her, Laura looked Hugo boldly in the eye. “I haven’t left my husband. But yes, we can finally play.”

      “In that case, come with me. I have everything arranged,” Hugo said, and took her by the hand. He led Laura up to the attic, where he knew there was a private little room. Earlier that day he had fitted it out with a padded leather bench and a mirror opposite. It was here that he’d intended to take her.

      “Nervous?” he asked her, leading her in.

      “Not at all,” she lied, tossing back her silky brown hair.

      “Yes you are. Come here and sit next to me,” he told her, pulling her down on the bench. “And tell me why you’ve been so naughty lately. It really isn’t like you.”

      “Hugo, I didn’t come with you to be treated like a child,” she protested.

      But Hugo hadn’t waited patiently for eighteen months to treat her like an adult. “If by that you mean I’m not supposed to spank you, you should know better, Laura.”

      “But why?” she cried, pulling off the domino that had covered her eyes.

      “Because,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder and drawing her to him, “that’s what I’m into.”

      “But I don’t want you to!”

      “Look, there are all sorts of spankings. Some of them hurt a lot and some hardly hurt at all. I happen to be an expert in administering what are called erotic spankings. Now if I give you my word that I’ll only spank you in a way that will arouse you without making you kick, scream or cry, will you trust me enough to submit?”

      The concept was a new one on Laura, but she liked the way Hugo’s arms felt about her, the way he smelled and the comforting firmness of his chest to lean upon. “Okay,” she told him.

      “That’s a good girl,” said Hugo. “Now stand up. Right here,” he pointed at the floor in front of him. Laura obeyed after some slight hesitation. He raised her arms, which she held stiffly at her sides until one hand rested on each of his shoulders. Then, using both hands, he pushed the hobbling skirt of her expensive leather dress up, from the backs of her knees to her waist. It slid very slowly upward, and as he pushed, his fingertips caressed the backs of her thighs and the curves of her buttocks, which were finally revealed, after considerable effort.

      The skirt, with its leather laces going up the back, was exceedingly tight.

      Finally the dress was pushed up to her waist and Hugo confronted a ravishing black satin garter belt, with silk-satin panties to match, the suspenders holding up black nylon stockings, with seams up the back. He dropped his hands to trace her stocking seams, from ankle to thigh top and back, with a whispery touch. Laura shivered, not prepared for tenderness.

      “All right,” he said, “Come here,” and pulled her down across his lap. Her sharp little intake of breath as he did was enough to let him know that nothing had changed with the doe-eyed brunette; she was as susceptible as ever to the position in which she’d been placed.

      She kept her legs straight and together, with the toes of her shoes on the floor.

      “You mustn’t be tense,” he told her, running his palm, for the first time, across the jutting oval contours of her bottom, through the clinging satin of her panties. Even in the low light of the little attic room, the expanse of exposed thigh she displayed above her stocking tops gleamed as white as starlight. He could not remember ever touching anything so smooth or so soft as the insides of Laura’s thighs. She shivered at his light caresses, not knowing what would come next, but felt herself relaxing more each moment that she lay across his lap. With one hand on her waist, he drew her closer. With the other, he continued to stoke her shapely buttocks and thighs.

      “Do you ever pretend when you play?”

      “You mean, assume a role?”

      “It’s fun to do once in a while.”

      “I never met anyone who wanted to pretend.”

      “Sometimes I like to pretend. With the right person and at the right moment.”

      “Yes,” Laura said, “I think it might be fun to pretend that I’m five or six years old.”

      “That’s perverse but I can go there,” said Hugo.

      “I wouldn’t admit this to everyone, but sometimes I fantasize I’m just small.” she went on.

      “That’s sweet,” he told her, bringing his palm to rest on the rise of one firm cheek. Suddenly the party seemed very far away. It was so quiet in the attic that Laura could hear his watch tick. “You’re the little girl who lives down Shadow Lane,” he continued. He paused without moving his hand, to let the notion germinate. Then he went on speaking in a hypnotic tone of voice.

      “Most of the time you’re a good little girl. But today you were naughty. You brought your cat into the shop. You had a ball of yarn tucked in your apron pocket. You took it out and trailed it on the floor. The kitty saw the bright blue string and leaped on it. You laughed and dragged the sting away. Again it jumped and pounced. You ran behind a corner with the string whipping after you fast. Faster and faster you ran. You became so excited while playing that you completely forgot my rule about running in the shop. At last you were totally breathless. You’d run until your little legs felt weak. No wonder you lost your balance and knocked over the lamp.”

      At this pronouncement Laura, completely caught up in the story, gasped in guilty astonishment.

      “Yes, it’s very sad. You broke the frosted glass shade of the lamp. It was one of those fluted monstrosities with flowers, fruit and birds worked in relief. No one with taste would have bought it, but I’d have sold it for a profit all the same. So naturally your naughtiness has made me very cross.”

      Hardly conscious of what she was doing, Laura ground against his lap. Her heart was fairly pounding and the power of suggestion had planted a lump in her throat.

      “After you heard the lamp crash to the ground and you saw the kitty scamper away, you knew you were in trouble. So you came up here to hide. But the blue

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