Atonement Ch 3
I drove back to Washington that afternoon. Corpun's attorneys, Gropes and Ray, had an office on K street. I was slated to see them the next day. But first I wanted to see Libby, so I called Allison at the Kappa house at UVA. Allison came on the phone. She was genuinely excited to hear from me. She told me that Libby had left earlier on a camping trip and was not expected back until Monday. It was Thursday. That gave me a weekend to cool my heels if I wanted to see her.
"But I'd like to see you," said Allison. "I have something I need to talk to you about. Can we meet tommorrow night? I'll drive up."
That sounded mysterious but I agreed. After all who wouldn't want to spend some time with Allison? She was a beautiful young woman with blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and a figure that was lush and promising. Abundant curves in all the right places. She projected sexuality but with an aura of shy innocence that was an instant turn-on for any man who came within her orbit. And I was old enough to be her father.
I told her sure, meet me in the bar of the Mayflower Hotel at 7:00. I'd be glad to help her any way I could.
*****************************************************************
The next day I met with Martin J Creel, Corpun's attorney.
"I know your record, Mr Hand, looked you up on Lexis---quite a few court victories for you a few years back in the national patent arena."
"That was a long time ago," I said. "I have a much lower key practice now. I just do general practice, a little of this and a little of that."
"Well let me be frank about this, then. Our position is that we own Henry Mason's invention. It was part of his work for my client, but after the contract was done he refused to sign the invention rights papers we had prepared."
"It wasn't part of the deal," I countered, "and how did you even know about his invention, anyway?"
Creel was indignant. "Are you suggesting some underhandedness by Corpun? I can assure you that those designs came into our hands voluntarily. Mason turned over discs with all the design information on them to our chief engineer. What he won't do now is assign the patents to us. We need those to go into production. Our customers, various state governments do not want to be faced with charges of patent infringement from Henry Mason."
Something didn't sound right here, but I was more interested in the source of the design data.
"Who is this engineer? Henry tells me the designs were secret."
"It's all well documented. Oliver Brussard is Corpun's director of engineering."
"Then I want to talk to Brussard."
"He's on vacation in the Carribean. He's unavailable." Interesting...Creel knew exactly where he was.
"Then I think our meeting is at an end."
Creel huffed about injunctions and litigation and made it sound as if Corpun was ready to go to war to secure the rights to Henry's invention. I needed to see Henry again, in view of Creel's allegations.
I called Henry later from the hotel room. He told me he had given Brussard discs but that they contained only data on the designs of the security systems he had made for Corpun. "The machines I showed you were not on those discs," he said emphatically. "Oliver Brussard is lying."
So we had a mystery. How did Corpun get the designs? Why is Brussard so conveniently unavailable? Did someone close to Henry betray him?
************************************
I pondered this as I waited for Allison in the bar of the Mayflower. When she walked in, all male (and a few female) heads turned. She was wearing a little black cocktail dress that molded itself to every lovely curve of her body. The short hem showed off her beautifully sculpted legs and the top revealed a generous amount of cleavage. I stood up to greet her and she gave me big hug.
"It's so great to see you again, Uncle Rollin...can I call you Uncle Rollin? I know you're Erin's uncle but after, well...everything I feel like you're mine too." She was gushing nervously.
"Slow down there, Allison. Of course you can call me Uncle Rollin if you wish. And how is my favorite niece?"
"She's fine. She sends her love."
That was good to hear. After the harrowing ordeal these girls had gone through 6 mos earlier, it was good to see that they had rebounded with no lasting trauma.
After ordering drinks for us both I told her she could help me by telling me a few things about one of her sorority sisters, and I thanked her for recommending me to Henry Mason. She said she had to show me something first. She was a bit nervous. Could we go up to my room? I said "sure" and we proceeded to the elevators. When we got to my room I took off my jacket and turned to her.
"Now what's all this about Allison?"
"It's this," she said handing me an envelope. "Go ahead. Open it and read it."
The note purported to be from a Madeline Smythe, Student Advisor, history department. The note said:
"To Whom It May Concern, This is to report that the scholastic performance of Ms Allison Carter has been substandard for this semester. She is currently carrying a 1.7 GPA and she stands to be on academic probation for the next term. I know Allison is capable of better work. In my opinion she has failed to apply herself and lacks self discipline. It is my strong reccomendation that she receive a healthy dose of discipline to put her back on task. /s/ Madeline Smythe"
"Well, Allison, I don't know what to say. Have your parents seen this?"
"No and they wouldn't care. I feel so awful. It's like I can't get going. I'm lazy. I goof off a lot and can't seem to stop. The only good period I had was right there when we came back from the islands and then later. You know, after you gave Erin and me that spanking. I was industrious and I studied and worked hard all the rest of that term." She brushed the hair back from her eyes. She seemed about to cry. "Then last term started and I just slipped back. I just hate myself for it and sometimes I think someone should just...well, turn me over his knee and spank me good and hard."
You know, sometimes it really is hard to tell. Was I being seduced? Did Allison really want punishment because of bad grades? I doubted that there was a Prof named Madeline Smythe, or if there was that she had written this. Not many English professors misspell "recommendation". I decided to play along. Obviously she had gone to some trouble to create this subterfuge, and whatever her motive, I could not think of a single good reason for refusing her.
I put on a stern face. "This is very troubling Allison. And I can see the wisdom of your advisor's recommendation. Do you want me to do this? To give you the disipline you apparantly need?"
"Y-y-yes," Allison stammered, licking her lips and smoothing her dress with her hands.
"Well, what should I do? Give you a good talking to? A fatherly lecture on the importance of your studies?"
Allison took a deep breath, and lifted her head, steadying herself. "Yes, I think y-you should tell me how lax I've been in no uncertain terms. Go ahead, really chew me out."
"Well, Allison, you are right. And I think it's high time. You do need discipline, just like your advisor says,...but... I can think of nothing better in this situation than a good sound spanking," I said, rising and unbuttoning the cuffs on my sleeves.
"You're going to s-spank me?" said Allison breathlessly, eyes wide, as she watched me roll my sleeves up.
"That's right. Scolding just won't make an impression. So...I suggest you get out of that dress, so it won't get wrinkled. You really need to be punished for wasting your time and your parent's money goofing around when you should be studying."
"Y-yes, sir," she quavered, and unzipped the little dress in back. The zipper came down and she stepped out of it clad in a black bra and garterbelt ensemble with wispy black panties. What a vision! Her breasts were full and strained the black bra. Her stomach was flat and her waist long and narrow. Her hips flared outwardly setting off the tiny waist. Her bottom was full and round without looking fat, but the cheeks were high-set and jutted back creating a distinct overhang where her upper thighs joined her hips. The legs were lean and finely sculpted, like a dancer's. She was clearly one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen--especially naked.
I sat on the bed. "Come over here, Allison," I said crooking my finger.
She walked to my right side with little mincing steps. I took her by the waist and put her over my knee. I adjusted her until her bottom was positioned uppermost and rested my right palm on the jouncy cheeks.
"You are going to get a good sound spanking, Allison, and I hope it will teach you to apply yourself."
"Ohh...yes Uncle Rollin, but not too hard, please?"
"Come on now Allison, you need a good tanning that you will remember well into next term. I want you to think about this every time you are tempted to slack off."
Allison just squirmed and emitted little mewling sounds in response.
"Now lift up a little."
Allison's body tensed. "W-why?"
"You know why. These panties are coming down. Bare fanny spankings are so much more effective."
Allison gave an embarrassed moan but lifted up and I slipped the panties down to her kneehollows. Her fully rounded seat was exposed to my gaze, twin white globes that quivered expectantly as I patted each chub, testing its resilience. Allison gave a little shiver at this intimate touch and wriggled slightly causing her beautiful nates to jiggle sexily.
I started off with about 25 firm, deliberate smacks. Her fanny wobbled deliciously with each one. Red handprints stood out against the stark whiteness of her lovely moons. She was silent except for low gasps and intakes of breath. I was worried about the sharp smacking sound of my hand on her derriere in the hotel room, but the sound from the TV helped mask it. I didn't say anything as I spanked, slowly, from cheek to cheek. I wanted her to just feel the heat gradually build up in her seat. She writhed around on my lap in response to the steady smack! smack! smack! of my descending palm. After about 25 spanks I stopped.
"Are you learning a good lesson in applying yourself?"
"Oooh...yesss, Uncle Rollin. Ah, it really stings," she said breathlessly.
"Good. I don't want to have to do this next term."
She gave a little shiver. "you'd come back and do this next term?" She looked at me over her shoulder with those big doe-shaped eyes.
"Yes I would if you don't behave."
I resumed her chastisement, this time a bit harder, with brisk sharp smacks that came in flurries. Six smacks and stop. Six spanks and stop. These spanks must have smarted because her wriggling became more animated. I imagined Henry's spanking machine and how effectively it had spanked Jessica. Allison started to wriggle more and her moaning became more pronounced, especially when I reached the end of a series of hard fast spanks. After about 3 or 4 minutes of this I rested my palm on her ass which was now a cherry red and hot to the touch. She was really feeling it now and my hand stung as well, but I wanted this to be memorable. I stated spanking again, this time with very hard spaced -apart smacks with my hand tensed and flat like a paddle.
"Are you(smack!) going to (smack!) apply yourself?" Smack! smack!
"Ow...ow...owee...yes Uncle Rollin," she yelped, twisting and bucking, but not really trying to escape.
I decided that tears had to flow for this to be a real experience, so I stepped up the pace and the intensity. Allison struggled to control her yelps of pain. I think I got a little carried away because after a minute or two of intense spanking I heard her sobbing.
"Ah...ah...I won't....I'll be good...wahhhh," she blubbed.
That, I decided, was enough.
"Ok, honey. It's over now. Here, get up," I said helping her rise.
She stood there and let loose with a good cry, rubbing her flaming hindquarters. Then she put her arms around me and hugged me, oblivious to the fact that she was practically naked and that I had a raging hard-on.
"Ohh...oh...woh...I'm sorry. I'll do better."
"It's ok, Allison. You've been punished now and it's over. You start with a clean slate. The past is history."
"(snif) I guess I can tell Ms Smythe I've had a good 'talking to' from my strict uncle," she said with the beginning of a smile.
"I guess you could say that," I said. I was not about to poke a hole in her charade about the probably fictitious Ms Smythe.
*******************************************************
I let Allison have the room while I went back down to the bar. When Allison had composed herself, she joined me.
"I should have brought a pillow from the room," she said jokingly, but she winced as she sat down.
"I'm not going to say I'm sorry Allison. You needed that."
"Yes, I did, and I thank you for it...Uncle Rollin." She was breathing heavily and blushing.
"Well..." I said, changing the subject, "Tell me about Libby Mason. What kind of person is she?"
"Oh, Libby? She is a very sweet girl. Sort of...you know, ditsy, scatterbrained. I hated to see her get mixed up with that Trey and his church. Trey, that's her boyfriend. He's got her hooked on some weird church thing."
"What church is that?"
"They call themselves The Revelation Church of Atonement or something."
Hmm...I had seen storefront operations in several metropolitan areas with a logo that had the words Revelation/Atonement in it. My memory was that it was hyped as some sort of counseling center, or self-improvement operation.
"Do you know anything about it?"
"No. Only that she's been going to these counseling sessions with Trey. She even tried to talk me into going when I mentioned how crummy I felt about doing so poorly. She said they would help me lose the guilt and feel better about myself."
"What's Trey like?"
"Oh, he's a rich kid--like me, spending Daddy's money. Maybe he feels guilty about it. He's got a mean streak though. I don't like him. He pressured her into going at first. But you know...she changed. She spouts this stuff about how great it is--how you can purge your guilt for all the bad things you've ever done, feel like a better person."
"So where did she go this weekend?"
"On a camping trip with Trey and Mary Beth Quinlan and Celeste Jensen. Trey was going to take them to West Virginia to Monogahela. Right around Sruce Knob."
I knew the area. A remote part of the Eastern portion of the state, it was rugged, mountainous, and wild. I'd been there before, years ago. It was still isolated and the people who lived there clung to a way of life that had all but disappeared. Farmers who scratched a living out of the rough mountainous soil and the people who serviced them; these were the folks of Appalacia and small town America--God fearing, traditional, and sometimes hostile to outsiders. I bet that the strap and the switch still ruled in these homes, and that there were still a few real woodsheds standing.
After dinner I reluctantly planned my goodbyes to Allison. She seemed reluctant to go. She said she left something in the room. As we took the elevator up, she told me how her fanny still smarted. "Oooh, it it feels so hot," she said, "but also kind of nice, like a hot glow. It'll probably hurt tommorrow."
"Well, the idea is to remind you to work hard," I said, eyebrows raised. "You should remember every time you sit down for awhile."
"Mmm, I will."
We got to my room and went in. She made as if she were looking for something.
"So what did you forget?" I said.
"The note. You have to sign it." I didn't recall seeing that instruction.
She stopped looking. "Oh, here it is. It was in my purse the whole time."
"Allison, it doesn't say I have to sign the note, does it?" Allison blushed again, and stammered,"N-no. I-I just wanted to, er, thank you properly," she said shyly.
Putting her arms around my neck she pulled me to her and gave me a kiss that was anything but the usual uncle-niece variety. She ground her hips against me and put her hand behind my neck, kissing me passionately. I responded by hugging her even more tightly, and I moved my hand down to lightly massage her satiny ass. She groaned and put her left leg in between mine rubbing it up and down against my swollen penis that was threatening to burst from my slacks. Allison broke off the kiss and dropped to her knees. She fumbled with my zipper but slid it down and she reached inside to grasp my hard cock. She pulled it out and stroked it, looking up at me with lust-filled eyes. Then I saw her face disappear and her head bob down on my engorged organ as she gobbled it into her mouth and started to suck greedily. She tongued the head while her fingers stroked my shaft. Then she ran her lips up and down it. I was about to burst. I pulled her head back and lifted her up.
For the second time that night, I watched her strip out of that little black dress. I shucked the rest of my clothes. We tumbled into bed and I pulled her body against mine. The feel of her firm lush breasts against my chest was electric. I felt between her legs. The furry patch of hair was slippery wet and she moaned as my fingers massaged her clitoris, plunging occasionally into the hot depths of her womanhood. I parted her legs slid my rock hard penis to the lips of her vagina. She pushed forward as I thrust in. I was engulfed by hot tight wetness. I rooled her over to her back and started thrusting and withdrawing in a steady, slow motion. Each time I rammed it in until our pubic bones touched, held it there for a moment, then slid back. Then I sat back on my heels and gripping the lush buttocks I had so soundly spanked, pulled her into me, skewering her on my hard prick. She matched me thrust for thrust, thrashing about wildly. We came in a shuddering climax. Hers triggered mine. Her body went stiff and she arched her back, her vaginal walls constricting my cock. I could no longer hold off and spewed my seed inside her, pumping furiously until the spasms subsided.
We lay in each other's arms for a time, spent, not saying anything. Then she said, "Ohh...I don't know what came over me, I...I..."
I put my hand to her lips. "No, stop. We both wanted this. You are a grown woman, not a girl. Women have needs, it's ok."
"It's...it's just that the boys I know, well, they're boys. I guess I'm attracted to someone older, like you."
"Like I said, no need to explain."
She stayed over. The next morning over breakfast we talked some more about the Church of Atonement.
"There are these guys on campus, you know, recruiting. They wear white shirts and ties. The girls wear long dresses, like out of The Donna Reed show or something."
"And Trey is one of these guys?"
"Yeah, he got Libby to go to one of their centers. She kept going. After awhile she seemed, well, different. Fired up about it. We thought it was a phase."
"Did Libby ever take Trey home to meet her parents?"
"I think she did, and I guess they liked him. I know they went out there to this big party they had last month. Lots of my sorority sisters went. There were faculty there, of course."
"Have you ever been to Libby's house?"
"Yes it's beautiful."
"Ever seen Prof Mason's workroom?"
"No, Libby showed me where it was but said all his work was secret, and no one was allowed in there. She said ever since she was a kid, snooping in there was strictly forbidden. She said her dad used to scare her by saying he kept a spanking machine in there and that if she ever went in, it would trap her and spank her and nobody would be there to turn it off. To us it seemed like a big joke, but I almost think she believed it."
So Libby was fascinated by her father's workroom, and ironically, the story told by a parent to scare a kid into obedience was true. But Libby didn't seem the type to steal from her dad. The interesting thing though was this church she was in. I felt that I needed to know more.
"Do you want to do some field work for me?"
Allison brightened. I was not going to shoo her off. I was going to put her to work. "Uh, sure. I'd love to help you, Uncle Rollin."
"Ok, I'm working on Henry Mason's legal problem, but I need to know more about this church. I can't tell you why, it's confidential. But if you would go into one of their storefront operations and act like someone interested in them, it might help me a lot. I'm going to do the same thing. Then we will meet back here and compare notes at the end of the day. Ok?"
We found church centers at two separate places, one in Georgetown, the other out Connecticut Ave, almost to Rockville. One more lingering kiss, a pat on her fanny and we were off.
Built by Text2Html