Atonement Chapter 14 and Conclusion
The next morning Henry and I met with Martin Creel. Al Laroche was there--and looking very chagrined. So was a Church attorney. We laid out our demands. Laroche sputtered and fumed, but he knew the jig was up. Creel insisted on silence as I knew he would. Laroche begged Henry for a license under the patents.
"It'll be a cold day in hell, Laroche," was all he said. When we got to the end, they agreed to pay. We also negotiated a settlement for Mary Beth and Celeste--again with no admission of any wrongdoing. Everyone was about to leave, anxiously, I thought. They wanted to get out before we thought of something else.
"There's just one more little thing...." I said.
"What?" huffed Creel. Their eyes widened as I explained it to them. But they talked about it for awhile and realized that it was in everyone's interest. Nothing personal, it was just good business to avoid some nasty publicity for the Church.
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I hung around Washington for a day or two, recuperating. Two days after our meeting, I made the trip back to Charlottesville. Jessica received me. She was wearing a ravishing purple dress that clung to every abundant curve. We made small talk while we waited for high noon. Between her lush figure, vibrant red hair and her deep green eyes, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. When the doorbell rang again, I answered it. An ashen-faced Anna Klochek stood in the doorway flanked by a pair of beefy men whom I guessed were Church security, if not Lictors.
"Miss Klochek, welcome," I said smiling. "Come on in."
She scowled but allowed herself to be led in by her escorts, each of whom gripped one arm. Apparantly the Church was more interested in the settlement than it was in the discomfort to its head Lictor's fanny and had sent these boys along to insure her cooperation.
"Ok, boys, Henry is waiting for us in his workshop downstairs. I know Anna here knows where it is, but if you'll just follow me..."
I led them down to Henry's workshop. Henry had his large prototype machine reconstructed. He was fiddling with some adjustments on a new structure that had been added. On either side was a short post with a rotary head on top that was mounted on a sliding track to the rear of the bench. Each rotary head had a flexible rod stuck into a hole on the head. Each rod was about a foot long and at the end there was a 2 foot long single thong lash mounted to it. The lash was made of some kind of resilient rubbery material. It looked like a rat tail.
"Ah, Miss Klocheck," said Henry, looking up as we entered. "We are pleased to have you here to help us test our newest feature." He pulled himself to his feet.
"You know, I originally designed these machines for the juvenile market, but I had no idea that there would be an explosion in state laws mandating corporal punishment for everything from drunk driving to writing bad checks--for adults. And so I thought," Henry stuck a finger into the air for effect, "for this market a mere spanking machine is simply not sufficient. Adults should be whipped, not spanked like children, don't you agree? Adults need something that really drives the point home. So," he gestured to the twin rotary hubs with their ominous looking rod and whip attachments, "I developed this. As you can see these twin hubs rotate, pulling these flexible rods with lashes attached around in a circle at tremendous speed. The tip of each lash travels in an arc of 320 degrees before striking the target. There are right and left whips and they are timed to deliver a lash to the target area in alternate sequence. The heads move slightly in the vertical direction after each stroke so that the target area for the tip of the lash varies. The timing can be chosen so that strokes are delivered at variable intervals. My research has shown that a period of about 3-5 seconds between strokes is optimum. The prisoner has time to feel the full effect of a stroke before the next is given. So what do you think? I mean, you're the expert. This will really make a drunk driver think before getting behind the wheel of a car, right?"
Anna's mouth was open and she figited nervously, looking from side to side--for a way out, no doubt.
"In this version the impact area is the buttocks and the back of the thighs--the spot nature intended is still the best, eh?"
Not hearing any comment, Henry went on, "the laser rangefinder is calibrated with the rotary heads which move on these tracks so that the ends of the whips land square across the buttocks of the miscreant. No wrapping around or anything like that--and by having two heads, full coverage of the target area is assured. Well, what do you think Miss Klochek," said Henry, positively beaming, "ready to take her for a spin?"
She must have known that pleading was no use, but it didn't stop her. Her eyes held a genuine look of fear as she regarded the grim apparatus. "Look, this...this is unnecessary. You got what you wanted."
"Ah, yes, Miss Klochek, but some things cannot be undone, can they? Just ask Mr Hand here." She looked my way, crestfallen. I smiled and shrugged.
She kept trying. "I'm sorry. Really. They gave me a job to do."
I turned to Henry. "I think that was Goering's defense at Nuremberg." Then back to Anna. "Anna, we go a long way back. I owe you for more than our little session in the woods." Anna started to protest again but Henry cut her off.
"Well, we're wasting time," said Henry looking at his watch. "So if you will be so kind as to remove your pants..."
"What?" said Anna. "Bare? You want me bare? No-- No. I won't do it." She struggled, realizing that in just a minute or two she would be strapped down and whipped by the machine.
Henry gestured to the Church's security men who grabbed a sputtering Anna by her arms and marched her over to the padded support at the center of the machine. Ignoring her frantic protests they secured her face down and fastened buckling straps around her upper back and at the hollows of the knees. Since the padded top sloped slightly downward, the bend of her body forced her buttocks to arch up prominently. She was wearing tight tan pants that revealed the rounded shape of the globes of her bottom to perfection. She was tall and lithe but had a full and very feminine oval-shaped derriere.
"Jessica, if you please, dear, pull the lady's pants down."
"With pleasure, darling," said Jessica, smiling broadly as she rose and approached the frantic, struggling Anna.
Anna protested loudly as Jessica reached underneath the firmly secured Miss Klochek to unfasten her pants. Having done so, she gripped both sides of the tight slacks and with much tugging and pulling peeled them and some silky white panties down over the rather attractive fanny that jutted so shamelessly over the whipping stool. As Anna choked in rage and indignation, Henry pulled up the program and enabled the range finder. After making a few more settings, he said:
"Well, now is the moment of truth Miss Klochek. You are about to receive a very adult whipping of your derriere. It will hurt--a lot--but I guess you know all about that. You will receive 100 lashes, maximum intensity." Henry pushed a button and the machine began to hum. Henry finally abandonned his mock jocularity and practically biting his words off said, "And Miss Klochek--never, never, never come near me or my family again." At that last emphatic statement, Henry hit a button on the console and stood. The right hub rotated, gaining momentum. The whip followed the rod which bent under the mass of the whip's tail. As it came around, the rod straightened and the whip followed it in a flat arc making a sickening whining sound. The tip struck Anna Klochek's buttocks square across the crowns of the fatty cheeks with a sharp CRACK!
"Arhhhh....ohhh God...nooo" screamed the struggling woman. She barely had time to catch her breath before CRACK!--the lash from the left side smacked across the wriggling fanny and elicited another pitious cry. Then CRACK! the right whip--whoosh...CRACK! the left.
Every three or four seconds another whip crack decorated the jiggling mounds with a livid red weal. The speed of the whip was truly frightening. Having seen a few whippings lately I could tell that this one was special. As the whips cracked and smacked in their relentless precision, Anna shrieked and screamed in pain. "Yeoww...ow...ow...I can't stand it! Stop! Stop! PLease!"
But Henry and everyone else just looked on at a wicked woman getting her just desserts.
The whipping took about 6 minutes. We watched, grimly fascinated as the twin whips placed crack after stinging crack across the writhing buttocks. It must have been the longest six minutes of Anna Klochek's life. By the end she was hysterically pleading and blubbering for it to stop. Her ass was covered with a mass of lurid red and purple weals. The skin however, had not broken. Henry had confided to me that he was worried about this, but had chosen his materials carefully. His object--the infliction of maximum pain with minimal injury. It looked like the experiment was a success.
With little fanfare Anna's attendants unstrapped her and pulled her to her feet. She wailed in pain as her pants were drawn up over her welted ass. We signed documents attesting to the satisfaction of the part of the deal and Ms Klochek was escorted away on unsteady legs.
"I don't think you'll have to worry about her again," I said to Henry and Jessica after they had left.
"Thanks to you, Rollin," boomed Henry heartily. "My machine gave her a right smart ass whuppin', wouldn't you say?"
"It looked like it might have smarted a bit," I said with a chuckle. Serves her damn right, I thought, recalling the sting in my own tail as a result of Anna Klochek's tender mercies.
"Well, I've got to go," said Henry abruptly. "I have to make a plane at Dulles. I'm headed to Portland to meet with Nike--I'll run any proposal by you, right?" I nodded. This was rather abrupt.
"Good," he said. Then with a smile he added, "Jessica would like you to stay for lunch, wouldn't you dear?"
"Absolutely," purred Jessica. "I want to thank Rollin personally for his help."
"Good. Well, I'll be off then." And he picked up a bag and was out the door.
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We ate in the solarium. The house was quiet. Everyone else was gone, it seemed. We ate in silence for a minute or two. Somewhere I could hear the ticking of a grandfather clock. Jessica broke the silence.
"Libby told me more about the commune after she was punished, after you all had left. The poor child--I have been a friend to her you know. But she has been spoiled. Henry was right to put his foot down with her. God knows he does with me."
"I imagine you want to avoid his new wrinkle--the whipping attachment, I mean."
"Yes indeed," she said with a rueful smile. "I'll bet your Miss Klochek has trouble in the sitting department for awhile. From the way she screamed, I'd say it was pure punishment."
"You mean not like your paddywhackings in the machine?"
"No. Not like mine. Although Henry does not always allow me the use of the...other controls."
"So it's not always fun."
"No. I can be a handfull, Rollin." Her smile was flirtatious. "I need--sometimes I need a strong man to keep me in line...tamed. Sometimes what I need is...pure chastisement." She said it seriously.
"I doubt seriously that you can be tamed, Jessica." She just fluttered her eyelids.
With a sly smile she slid an envelope from beneath a plate and handed it to me. "Henry asked me to give this to you after he had left." I took it and opened it. It read:
" Dear Rollin,
I appreciate your fine work on my behalf and especially your efforts in locating Libby and bringing this matter to a successful conclusion. Before you take your leave, however, I wonder if you could perform for me one final task. Jessica has been extremely petulant of late. She has snapped at the staff, has drank too much, and was rude to some faculty wives at a recent University funtion. As is our custom I informed her that she must be dealt with for these infractions, but then Libby disappeared and this whole mess started. So before you leave I want you to act as my proxy--sort of in loco parentis--and give Jessica a good "seeing to". Take her to our "playroom" and use whatever means you deem appropriate to correct her for her misbehaviour.
Spare the rod and spoil the wife,
Henry "
As I read she tilted her head and regarded me thoughtfully. "That was some licking you gave Libby. She said you spanked really hard. It stung like the devil--and you just used your hand on her backside."
"Don't forget her sorority sisters--they used paddles before I stated. I was just driving home the lesson." I put down the letter. "Do you know what this says?" I asked.
"No. Henry didn't tell me. He said it would be a surprise."
I flipped it to her. "It is. Go on, you may want to read this."
She picked it up and began to read. Her eyes grew wide as she scanned the page.
"Oh, my. Henry. " she said, shocked. Her jaw dropped.
"You're blushing," I observed.
"I-I don't know what to say. Why, that Henry, he...that scheming bastard...I thought he'd..." Then she shook her head with a wry smile. Henry's little joke. A "gotcha". They'd laugh about it later.
"You thought he'd leave you alone to have a little fun."
"I didn't expect this...". She was flustered. It was a delicious game between them, apparantly. I don't think Jessica knew about the letter. They had cooked up between them the idea that Henry would leave abruptly to clear the way for Jessica to have an adventurous afternoon romp.
"So, Jessica, what shall we do?" I was enjoying this beautiful woman's consternation. Then she straightened. She'd made up her mind I guessed.
"Well, it seems I'm in for it. I am a dutiful wife...and I suppose I've been a bit naughty." The sly smile was back. So, " she said, pushing her chair back and rising, "follow me to the playroom."
I'd have followed her to Hades and back, I thought, as I walked behind her, taking in the mesmerizing sway of her jouncy bottom straining against the tight sheath dress. As she walked she pulled a pin from her hair and shook her head, causing her long red hair to fall, flowing around her shoulders.
We entered a room off the hall. Jessica flipped on some lights. I whistled. There was apparatus that at first looked like exercise machines. Closer inspection revealed a different purpose. These benches and things were designed to hold someone down. There was a bar suspended from the ceiling--with manacles on it. Along the wall was a rack of implements of various designs. Jessica turned to me.
"This room hasn't been used in a while. It was used a lot before Henry's accident." She twisted her hands together and bit her lower lip. "When we used to enter this room, I called Henry "Sir". So, ah...how do you want me...Sir?"
"I'm thinking," I said as I took off my jacket and hung it on a hook. She watched me with growing interest as I took off my tie and rolled up my sleeves. I sat on a padded bench and crooked my finger. "Come here, Jessica."
She walked to me with mincing steps. "Sir, what are you going to do?" It was a timid little girl voice.
"I'm going to spank your bottom until it is red and hot and stinging. Drape yourself across my lap, Jessica. Good girl," I said as she gingerly lowered herself over my knee, giving me a terrific view of her generous cleavage in the process. I rested my hand on the gorgeous swell of her seat and rubbed the mounds through the thin fabric. She moaned softly, a pleasure moan.
"Now let's see, snapping at the staff were you?" I continued the massage of the deliciously resilient rounds.
"Yes, sir," said the small voice.
"Very thoughtless of you. Lift up."
She obliged, lifting her midsection. I slowly raised the veil of her dress exposing the lush and beautiful mounds of her exquisite derriere, clad in flimsy black lace panties and beautifully framed by a black garter belt and sheer black stockings. Her skin was pale--usually the case with redheads. I rubbed my hand on each cheek in turn in small circular movements. She shivered as my palm caressed her.
"This spanking is for rudeness, as you no doubt deserve."
I raised my palm and brought it down flat on the crown of her right bottom globe. A sharp Smack! echoed off the walls. A split second later I smacked her left cheek. The splat! smack! whap! my hand rose and fell in a rapid cadence smacking from one cheek to the next, sometimes across the deep crease partially hidden by the panties. She wriggled and fluttered her legs in reaction to the stinging assault. I wasn't really spanking hard, just rapidly, trying to build up a hot stinging sensation in her backside. It was working.
"Oooh...oh...ah," she squeaked as my hand splatted down. The flesh of her bottom wobbled at each impact. After about 100 brisk smacks, I put my fingers in the elastic of the brief panties.
"Time for a sound spanking on your bare fanny, Mrs Mason."
She made a little moan. I think it was pleasure. I slid the panties down baring the lovely moons of her perfectly formed posterior. Her waist was tiny and her hips were full making the mounds of her buttocks the most gorgeous of sights. The cheeks were pink with faint handprints.
I slowed the pace down but spanked harder now. Each full bodied smack caused her cheeks to ripple at impact, but when I removed my hand they would spring back with a wobble, assuming their former deliciously rounded shape. She writhed and moaned softly as the chastisement continued. I landed spank after spank on her naughty sit spot. A hot red glow began to appear in her seat. I was determined to make it glow like a beacon.
After a set of 50 or 60 such slow deliberate smacks, she was panting and writhing sensuously across my lap. It seemed like she was pushing her bottom up to meet my descending hand. My cock was getting hard with the friction as well as the sight of her lovely moons bouncing under the assault of my stinging palm. I decided to finish with a fast hard flurry. As I spanked wriggling fanny she uttered sounds of either protest or arousal. It was hard to tell the difference.
"Oh...ah...ow...nhh...umm...yeow..." she mewled at the insistent smack! smack! smack! of my hand, which by now was stinging as much as her bottom, no doubt. I finished with ten extra hard ones that made her arch her back and drum the floor with her toes.
"Can you act more kindly now?" I said resting my hand on a hot bottom cheek.
"Ow...yes, sir...ooh".
"Kneel between my legs."
She knelt, her hands behind her now, rubbing to take the sting out. I grabbed her and kissed her deeply. Our tongues intertwined. She responded by putting her arms around my neck and pulling me to her and kissing me back passionately. I helped her to her feet.
"I think it is time for you to strip, Jessica."
"Yes, sir," she responded, and reached down gathering her hem. She pulled the dress over her head. Underneath she was wearing a lacy black bra and panties with the black garter belt and stockings. She stood her hands intertwined as if awaiting approval. I whistled. She was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Not only was her figure ravishing, but the combined effect of her lustrous red hair and white skin was devastatingly sexy.
As I took in the lovliness of the goddess awaiting my intentions I was almost speechless, but I managed to croak, "the bra and panties too."
She unclasped the bra, letting it fall. Her breasts were proud and firm, the nipples small but hard from arousal. She slipped her panties down to reveal a furry nest of red hair at her pelvic triangle.
"Legs apart," I said, "and put your hands behind your back." I cupped the firm breasts and let my fingers gently pinch the hard nipples. I reached in between her legs and guided my hand through the red curls to her slit. It was as I had suspected, sopping wet and slick with feminine arousal. She moaned and her knees buckled slightly as I frigged her slowly. She couldn't help but make little sounds, "nhh...oh...oh...mmm" as I manipulated her slick wetness. I kept it up for awhile but when I sensed a change in her response, signalling approaching climax, I stopped.
I stood back. "Now, there is the matter of your drinking, Mrs Mason. What I want you to do is pick an implement from the wall for me to correct you with." She licked her lips. Her face was flushed. Her eyes were bright. "Yes sir," she said quietly and walked over to the wall. The roll of her pink bottom was intoxicating. She selected a short stiff leather paddle and presented it to me. I took her by the hand and let her to a padded stool.
"Over the stool and grip the legs," I commanded. She complied. The position thrust out her seat because her legs bent slightly at the knees. I tapped her nates a few times with the paddle. "This is for drinking a bit too much, Jessica. Please restrain yourself in the future." I gave her about twenty vigorous smacks across jutting fanny and I spread them out. They sounded like pistol shots in the confines of the hard-walled room. The fig between her legs glistened with slick dew and her breathing was ragged. Each brisk whap! of the leather paddle evoked a sharp "Ouch!" She was feeling this one a little more. Her buttocks approached the hue of a brilliant red sunset and the color of her spank spot stood out in sharp contrast to the whiteness of her skin.
I put the paddle down and stood behind her. Slipping my fingers into her juicy slit I rubbed the length of it paying special attention to her hardened little clit. She gasped and humped her hips in time to the reciprocating motion of my hand. Again I stopped. "Please, oh please!" she entreated. "Not yet, Mrs Mason. You must still be corrected for you behavior at the faculty tea."
"Ohhh..." she moaned.
I gripped her arm again and pulled her along toward a lowered bar on an overhead cable. Fastening her wrists to cuffs on the bar I walked over to a winch on the wall and raised her arms until her body was upright but not stretched. This time I selected the fustigatory implement. It was to be a multithonged deerskin flogger. It had about a dozen soft strands about 18" long on a foot long handle. I swished it as I approached. Her eyes followed the swishing leather thongs.
I stood in front of her and wrapped my arm around her waist, mashing her body against mine. Then I gripped the back of her neck and pulling her mouth to mine, kissed her again--on the mouth, on the neck, all over her face. With my other hand I squeezed and fondled her hot nether cheeks, cupping and caressing each sumptuous globe in turn. She ground her pelvis against me trying to stimulate her sex. I was sure she could feel my hardened cock through my slacks. I broke our clinch and stepped behind her. She eyed me over her shoulder with anticipation as I ran the strands of the whip through my fingers.
"One hundred lashes, Jessica. Look straight ahead and thrust your fanny out." She complied, hollowing the small of her back and making the lush cheeks bulge. I gave her ten hard lashes, one after another. Each lash bit into the rounded bottom and made it quiver. I stopped and went around to her side, once again running my fingers up and down the length of her slit. She bucked against my hand trying to get herself off. I stopped, resumed my position, and gave her another hard ten lashes.
I alternated between whipping her magnificent ass and frigging her clit. By the time 100 lashes had been meted out, she was begging for release. I couldn't hold out much longer myself. I lowered the bar a bit and replaced the whip.
"Bend way over, Jessica and spread your legs," I said huskily. She knew what was coming, and bent over, offering herself to me like a mare in heat. She heard the zip of my fly as I liberated my swollen penis. I let my pants drop and almost tore off my shirt. She gripped the bar and pushed her buttocks back as I guided the head of my shaft into her sopping pussy. As I slid in to the hilt she inhaled sharply. We didn't waste any time. I thrust my hips, slowly at first and then in a furious jackhammer motion. Both of us were too close to climax to even think about holding back. I held out as long as I could but when I felt her body shudder in climax I came in torrents. It seemed to last forever. The glorious tension we had built up was finally unleashed in a paroxism of intense orgasm.
We finally disengaged. I uncuffed her and kissed her tenderly. She didn't say a word but took my hand and led me to her bedroom. We renewed our passion several more times. I even reheated her fanny with a little paddle she kept in a nightstand. By mid afternoon I was exhausted.
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I barely made my flight. It was late on Friday afternoon, but I decided to go into the office and read my mail before the weekend.
It would be a laid back weekend, I decided. Maybe I'd take up golf. I was thinking about ol' Bob and the boys up on the ridge out of Goshen. What did he see in the game? You walk along and whack something round and white and defenseless with a stick--well come to think of it, maybe there was something to it.
My woolgathering was interrupted by the realization that someone was there in my office. As I opened the door I was greeted by Jane. "Hi Boss," she chirped, "glad to see you back." Then she bit her lower lip.
"What?" I said.
"Uhh...it's Friday afternoon, boss. Here's my list--I didn't quite get that filing done. I guess I'm in for it, hunhh?"
Omigod, I realized as she handed me the transgression list and my handy wooden ruler. There is just no rest for the weary.
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