The Gift of Girls by Chloë Thurlow Read Free Book Online Page B

shoes and back into his eyes. My lips began to tremble. My knees were giving away beneath me.
    By the way, what size shoes do you take?
    A narrow six
.
    That day at the first interview his probing eyes had looked into me and he must have foreseen the future. He had given me access to the passwords and codes. He had led me on to the path of temptation and I was standing at the end of the path barefoot, naked as a child, my breasts throbbing with the beat of my heart. Tears swam into my eyes and my hands were shaking as I reached for the shoes.
    They were gorgeous shoes, shoes a girl covets, stylish but elegant. They fitted snugly and must have cost a fortune. The leather was so soft, the supports so solid, the heels so sleek and graceful. The moment I pushed my toes into those shoes, my spine curved forward in a faint bow which made my sagging shoulders straighter, my breasts poised and, as I looked back at Simon Roche across the desk, he seemed to wear a look of approval and for that I was grateful.
    In those high-heel shoes I was taller, my waist stretched and flat, my bottom clenched, my breasts tingling and alive, the black triangle of my pubic hair glossy and damp. I was at my physical prime, and in that situation it was some small solace and gave me confidence; stupidly, pathetically, at the far edge of my embarrassment was a touch of conceit. These two emotions had no place together except perhaps for a girl standing naked before a man who could do anything he wanted to her.
    He stood. He walked around the desk, gazed down at the shoes, then approached the long leather sofa below the window. He didn’t look at my naked body. He looked into my eyes.
    ‘Magdalena, you are going to bend over this sofa, you are going to spread your legs, and I am going to spank you.’
    He paused to let the words sink in. It seemed astonishing, unbelievable. He was going to spank me? Were people allowed to do such things? I’d read Anaïs Nin. I had read about girls being spanked. But wasn’t that all fantasy? Did such things really happen?
    ‘Do I make myself clear?’ he added.
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘Have you been spanked before?’
    ‘Just at school …’
    ‘It hurts and it is humiliating. That is the point. I am going to spank you twelve times. You must not make a single sound except to count each stroke after you receive it. You can refuse to accept the beating and get dressed. If you do so, I shall put through a call to the police and report the theft of more than £3,000 from the company account.’
    I took a deep breath. I was trembling. My breasts were still outrageously pert, betraying me. I could do this, I thought. To save myself I could take the pain and humiliation of being spanked. I’d stripped off my clothes without a murmur of resistance. What did a dozen smacks on my backside matter?
    I gave a little shrug.
    ‘That’s not all, Magdalena. That is just the beginning,’ he continued. ‘I told you, I can have any whore in Soho for £100. Your debt is …’ He paused, waiting for me to answer.
    ‘£3,100,’ I said.
    ‘If you can accept the spanking, you will have earned the right to be taught the true meaning of the word discipline.’
    His words hung in the air like black clouds on a sunny day. I swallowed. The feeling of fantasy was growing inside me. What could he possibly mean? What was he going to do? I really had no idea, no idea at all. Hadn’t I been taken on a
trip around the world
with Sandy Cunningham? What more was there? I bit my lip, I shrugged, and I nodded.
    ‘OK,’ I said.
    ‘I want you to be very sure of this.’
    I swallowed again. ‘I don’t really have a choice.’
    ‘Did I have a choice when you stole my money?
    I lowered my eyes and shook my head.
    ‘You make your own decisions. That’s the definition of being free.’
    Free, I thought. I was stark naked and about to get a thrashing. How free is that? ‘What will I have to do?’ I asked.
    He took a long breath through his nose.