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“The cane, you say?” he turned toward Preston.
“In the closet.”
Joel moved to a cabinet on the side of the room, where he pulled out a rattan cane. Gripping it firmly in his fist, he strolled back to me, devious, evil, beautifully evil.
“You know, canes are the only implement for a busy office. Practically silent when they strike.” He stared at the long slim rod with admiration, while my whole body went rigid, knowing what it could do to me. “You worried?” he was apparently asking me but I didn’t know what to answer. “Cat got your tongue?”
“No, sir.”
“Then speak to me when I ask a question. You worried?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good.” He smiled again. “You should be. I wreak havoc with these things. My own preference is for the thinner kind, the baton. They do more damage.” I don’t know if he was joking or serious, although I didn’t want to find out. “But since this is Preston’s passion, we’ll use this one.”
He moved to my back and pushed my chest down on the desk at little further. I was facing Preston’s face. He looked back at me; his face unreadable, his thoughts if he had any, indecipherable.
“Yeah, you look at him, slut,” Joel charged me. “And while you do, get your priorities straight. Know who you belong to you; you could certainly do a lot worse. Think about it. You could have me as your master. At least he’s civil.”
Thwack!
The cane sizzled and stuck, biting my ass so I was sure it would bleed. I cringed, my muscles taut as piano strings. A small cry escaped my lips, and my face drew into a painful grimace.
“Get used to it, slut,” Joel informed me, “there’s nineteen more to go.”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! He rattled off several more cuts in succession, while I reached out gripping the sides of the desk. Otherwise, I would have fallen to the floor in desperation.
“Look at him!” Joel barked.
My gaze, which had fallen downward, returned to the man in front of me. I gritted my teeth and tried not to cry, at the same time, my sad tears were welling in my eyes. I recoiled each time the thwacking cane sliced another tale of woe on my behind. I couldn’t believe that the cruelty of the last three days could be surpassed. But for undisputed pain, this ruled. Maybe it was because I couldn’t utter a sound. I gurgled a bit, and gasped, and panted, and gulped down another load of fear, and then took more. I’d lost count in numbers and was still gritting and clenching and panting when Joel suddenly stopped.
“There!” he said with some emphasis. “That should leave some remnants to remember.”
I didn’t doubt that fact.
He rubbed my bottom, gripping it firmly and squeezing hard.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Preston said, to my amazement.
I turned my head just enough to see Ellington Lloyd walk in the room.
“Oh, my,” he noted the scene with obvious surprise. “Is this sex play, or some new kind of office discipline?” He was infinitely smooth, which only suggested to me that he knew about the younger men’s schemes.
“Discipline, El,” Joel informed him. “Miss Sinclair sometimes needs a few reminders.”
“Reminders?” He sounded a bit perplexed, maybe he didn’t understand what was actually happening in this office. “I always thought she was doing a damn good job.”
“For the most part, but she’s occasionally a little frivolous with company time. Isn’t that so, Miss Sinclair?” Joel poked me to answer.
“Yes, sir.” My skirt was still above my waist, with my nakedness on display and blooming with color.
“And you think this sort of treatment is effective?” Ellington asked the question as if he were considering it for his entire office staff.
“For some women,” Joel informed him, sounding as if he’d suddenly break out in a full lecture regarding corporal punishment. I hoped not. “And definitely for Skye.”
“Well then, gentlemen,” he said, as if he could easily pass this off as normal behavior, “don’t let me interrupt. I just came to remind Preston of the sales meeting in the morning. You need to be there. Eight o’clock.”
