liked what the Barking Crewcut had done to her and how he had done it. But by her calculations, Jeffrey was seven to ten years her junior! (Perhaps he’d realize that in the light of day.) Augie was the proper age for her. But now she felt she’d already been unfaithful to Augie, by letting Jeffrey spank her.
“Did you play with anyone?” she asked casually as Augie Rose pulled into her driveway. “Oh, and do come in!” Garda was never loath to entertain friends in her small but tastefully managed quarters. She had cats, trees, wine glasses from Florence, comfy poufs, in short, everything a sensualist needs to enjoy a modern, modest and slightly artistic lifestyle.
“Would you open that bottle of wine on the table, Augie? I want to change my dress.”
Garda kept the beautiful, ivory corset on and over it threw a matching dressing gown, which, when it feel open, created the perfect frame to display the exquisite, hip length, waist cinch corset.
“Augie?” Garda called from the bedroom. Augie joined her with two glasses of white wine. “Please, do loosen my stays before I expire!” she cried, dropping the robe from her shoulders to show him how tightly she had laced herself.
Augie untied the central laces at Garda’s waist, then paused, confounded by the intricate crisscrossing network of laces that ran from the middle of her back to below her waist. “You know, I don’t have much experience with foundations,” Augie admitted. “Isn’t there a way to get it off fast?”
“Well, of course, it could be unhooked in front, but then it would be off entirely.”
“Don’t you think that would be a good idea? You could still wrap up in that dressing gown, couldn’t you, dear?”
“All right. It’s a good idea. I’ll take it off,” she conceded. “You wait out there. I have to undo all the garters and take off the stockings that are attached. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Finally taking off the corset felt like its own sort of orgasm. The stockings also went away and her slim, pretty feet went into ivory satin slippers with high vamps. “Oh, he’s smart,” thought Garda of her guest and went out to him feeling deliriously relaxed.
They lay on the hearth rug together in front of the fire, she with her back to him, but pressed against him, he with his arm around her, her waist under his hand, talking for several hours, then kissing and finally petting, which suddenly led to spanking. She was easily pulled across his lap and so accessible in the satin robe, with only her scrap of panties between his hand and her smooth, white bottom.
“I knew you’d have a beautiful bottom,” Augie said, caressing her baby smooth skin. She had finally ceased to feel the imprint of Jeffrey’s hand upon it but was grateful for the firelight in case her so seldom spanked bottom should still bear the traces of pink from her associate’s hard, calloused, weight lifter’s palm. “I couldn’t believe it when you said you were in The Scene the other day at my house. It’s been my dream to date someone like you.” But these fond words didn’t stop him from spanking her hard!
Garda and Augie played on Friday night, met again on Saturday, at a Hollywood B&D club, in order to be able to esoterically gambol in a dungeon, then spent all of Saturday night and most of Sunday together as well, continuing to play and make love. Since Garda hadn’t had a regular spanking boyfriend in over twenty years, she couldn’t seem to get enough.
They played all over his stylish little estate, established a safe word, which was never used and spent a portion of Saturday afternoon visiting Dream Dresser, where Augie bought her several outfits in leather and PVC.
By the time she ascended to the Noho offices of her firm on Monday morning, she had all but forgotten about Jeffrey Jardine, and what had happened between them at the party.
He was giving one of his Monday morning pep talks and looking particularly Clark Kentish in a crisp shirt and slim tie, when she walked in. Garda remembered the party and promptly exited the meeting without paying the slightest attention to the injunctions her supervisor was forcing on her hapless associates. When they next ran into each other, some hours later, at The Eagle Coffee Shop, he appeared to take umbrage at her earlier act of insubordination.
“So guess what, Jeffrey,” she lightly murmured while dropping into the next booth, “I cleared up that awkward misunderstanding with Mr. Rose about the rental of the house. He’s agreed to a reduced fee of 5K per day.”
Jeffrey reddened, imagining her to be purposely insulting him. He had extorted her temporary submission to him at the party on the basis of her costing the company an extra 30k. Now that she had erased the debt, the spanking he had given her seemed all the more gratuitous and he felt rebuffed by her exuberance.
“I see!” said Jeffrey darkly, which gave Garda that certain feeling. “You obviously went home with him that night!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“When can I see you?” he demanded. “I want to spank you for a long time, uninterrupted.”
Garda felt Cupid’s dart pierce her heart. “I might be free tonight. Call me.” She wrote her home number on the back of her business card and gave it to Jeffrey.
“What about your address?”
“Let me come to you.” Garda was far too fastidious to wish two different men to appear in her bed in the same week.
Jeffrey lived in a small, plain beach house in Zuma, smelling of fresh pine and sand. She arrived on the later side that evening, with cheese, bread and wine and was charmed to dine on the lanai overlooking the ocean. It would be pleasant to fall asleep to the sound of the waves in the big, muscular arms of the aggressive business school freak who ran her department so stupidly. His nearly empty boy’s house rather held the scent of him and she enjoyed breathing it in from the start.
“I don’t want you to do anything until we finish the wine,” said Garda to Jeffrey as the sun went down.
“That will take for ever,” Jeffrey protested. Garda laughed at his eagerness.
“We’ll go up in the little attic,” he tempted her. “I’ve built a few pieces of custom furniture that you’ll find interesting.”
“I hate surprises.”
“Even a spanking bench, a horse and a sturdy armless chair?”
“So you really did spank me the other night at the party in Beverly Glen!”
“Did you doubt it?”
“Well, I was drinking.”
“You know damn well I spanked you. I enjoyed it too. I’ve been thinking about nothing else since.”
“I’m surprised by that. A strapping young go-getter like yourself must be inundated with submissives,” Garda buttered.
Jeffrey snorted with derision, “I’m still reeling at the fact that you work in my office. You don’t know how hard it was for me to keep my hands off you today.”
“Is that so?”
“You have a beautiful waist.”
They went up to the charming attic. Jeffrey was particularly proud of a carved, solid oak spanking bench, padded down the center with black
