Balancing the Books

This story is part of theOn The Job Event, and mostly features lesbian sex and some quite extreme lesbian BDSM.

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—Anna

Susan sat and listened, taking a few notes here and there. The young blonde woman reached her final slide, a summary of the pitch she had been making. Favoring the Senior Leadership Team with a smile - one, Susan thought, might hold some weight with a couple of her male colleagues - the presenter took a moment, apparently to collect herself. The speaker was good, thought Susan with an internal grin; she herself employed such pauses; they lent gravitas to what was said.

As the woman - she had introduced herself as Melanie Gardner at the start of her presentation - gave a crisp, focused, and compelling précis of the case she had made, Susan reflected that, in her own youth, she might not have done so well as Melanie. Ed, the CEO - who was in his customary position at the head of the table, just to Susan's left - was smiling and nodding. Looking around at her peers, she saw similarly positive body language.

Melanie appeared to be monitoring her audience's reactions as she spoke - clever girl, thought Susan - and she finished with a confident flourish. There was even a ripple of applause from the gathered departmental heads. The speaker was now smiling, knowing that she had done a great job, guessing that the answer was going to be yes. Susan could almost feel the pride exuding from the young woman's pores, beaming from her slightly reddened cheeks, glistening in her sapphire eyes; Susan also noted just how attractive those eyes were.

"Well..." began Ed, "I must say that was very impressive..." There were murmurs of agreement from his direct reports.

"Ahem..." interjected Susan. Not loudly, she had won the battle to be listened to in this forum long ago. All eyes swiveled toward her. The hard-earned attentiveness of her male counterparts was still deeply gratifying.

"Does our esteemed CFO have a question?" asked Ed, speaking respectfully, if - as always - employing his rather archaic argot.

"She does," replied Susan. "Miss Gardner, if you could please go back to slide seven?"

"The cost / benefit analysis?" asked Melanie, perhaps with a slight note of concern apparent in her voice.

"If you don't mind," Susan confirmed. "Yes, thank you. Now I just wanted to check a few details..."

Ten minutes later, the atmosphere in the room was very different. As the meeting broke up, Susan caught up with the crestfallen young woman. There was something in the eyes of the unsuccessful presenter; Susan couldn't tell whether it was disappointment, resentment, or... more than that.

"You did well, Melanie," the Chief Financial Officer began, "but..." and here Susan briefly looked around her before leaning forward and adopting a hushed tone, "butwehave to do better. People like you and me,wehave to do better.Wehave to be flawless, you understand?"

Susan was so close to the younger woman as she spoke that accents of musk, jasmine, and bark reached her nose; probablyMissing Person, she surmised.

Melanie nodded, apparently with contrition. Yet still Susan picked up on some strange aspect to her features. Whatever it was, she decided that it was the young woman's problem, not hers.

"Don't be upset," said Susan quietly, "just get the fucking numbers straight next time, OK?"

"Yes, Susan. I don't know how I missed..."

"Then don't miss it again!" interjected the executive, "and see you in a month's time, like Ed suggested."

With that, the older woman strode back to her office; it was a corner one, with just a shared lounge dividing it from Ed's even larger room, which occupied the opposite corner of the third floor. As she sat down, her boss put his head around the door. "Thanks for picking up on the error in her numbers, Susan. We all rely on you."

"It's just what I do, Ed," she replied with a smile.

"Well thanks for doing it," he went on, giving her a thumbs-up.

"No problem, Ed. And..." here Susan modulated her tone to one dripping with honey, "you remember that I told you that I was going to leave early?" She had, of course, told him nothing of the sort, but Susan was very accustomed to gently manipulating the CEO.

"Sure, no problem," he replied. "You deserve it."

The CFO smiled, but the phrase 'you deserve it' rather bounced around her head. After how she had clinically torpedoed Melanie's idea, Susan reflected, she very much agreed that she deserved something. Just probably not what Ed had in mind.

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Susan gripped the handles of the pommel horse and shifted her legs a little further apart, still bent at the waist, her ass sticking out. She breathed deeply, trying to center herself. But she hadn't fully acclimated to the first blow before the second landed on her naked back. The fierce crack of the impact, the bright burst of pain, the delayed fiery ache. Susan couldn't help but flick her head up in shock and exclaim, "Oh fuck!"

Another stroke followed immediately after and Susan stamped her feet, her high heels making little clip-clop noises on the practical vinyl flooring. "Please maintain total silence during the punishment," a male voice intoned.

Susan bit her lip, tears forming in her eyes, and rather different fluid beginning to flow from a lower orifice. "Yes, Sir," she meekly replied.

Ken was one of Susan's favorites. When she had called the club asking for a short-notice appointment, she had been delighted to learn that he was free. Now, maintaining her pose - and nude aside from her shoes and the leather collar clients had to wear at all times - she could feel her clit throbbing and her pussy aching.

There was another swish of displaced air molecules, a crack of traumatized skin, and the next blow was across Susan's ass. She just about managed not to yell, but a heartfelt groan squeezed from her pursed lips.

She wanted to put her hand between her legs so badly, but it wasn't allowed. Instead she let the extreme sensations wash through her, knowing that she was still much closer to the start of the session than its end.

Later, as Susan toweled after her shower, she turned and looked over her shoulder at her reflection. The criss-cross lattice of crimson stripes looked beautifully erotic to her. The red-raw pattern extended from her shoulder blades down to the backs of her thighs. Gingerly she reached around and traced the slightly raised line of one, wincing, but also with renewed arousal. 'Wait,' she told herself, 'you'll cum even harder if you wait until you get home.'

At the desk on her way out, Susan stood patiently while Andrea finished taking a reservation. As she replaced the receiver, the receptionist smiled at her. "Everything OK, Miss Portman?" This was Susan's real name. The club insisted that members didn't use pseudonyms. Their vetting process was very thorough.

"As delightful as always, and thank you for accommodating me at short notice. I wanted to book a longer appointment for the weekend, maybe two hours on Saturday. Is Ken...?"

"Let me check," she replied. Andrea looked at her screen, clicking with her mouse. "I'm afraid not, Miss Portman. But I have a note on your account here. You'd asked to be informed about any new women on the staff and Mistress Jett has just joined. She is free Saturday afternoon. In fact, she only works weekends. It's just her first few days here, but she has already received excellent feedback. Shall I...?"

Susan took out her phone and located the club app. When it recognized her face, she opened the search function. "Is that one or two Ts?" she asked, learning that it was two.

Mistress Jett was an attractive young woman, at least as far as Susan could tell given her masked face. The photographer must have used a fan as strands of blonde hair rippled back from her head as if blown by the wind. Her high-cut leather bodysuit also plunged at the neck, accentuating her mid-sized breasts. She was holding a whip, and thigh-high boots with killer heels completed her outfit.

"Um..." said Susan, aware that her heart was quickening, "does she...?"

"As well as domination, and for female clients only, Mistress Jett also offers a full personal service. But only when a booking is for at least two hours," replied Andrea. Did Susan detect a faint grin on the receptionist's face?

"Is two o'clock acceptable?" inquired Susan, her voice a little husky.

"You're all booked in," smiled Andrea. "See you then."

A car was waiting for her outside. As she sat in the back seat, Susan flicked through more photos of Mistress Jett, thinking that she couldn't get home quick enough.

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Back at the club, Andrea stepped into the small office behind her desk and closed the door. It was windowless like all the rooms, most of the building was below street level. The signal was awful here, but the receptionist wanted some privacy. She took out her phone and found a contact.

"Yeah, I got your message. Perfect timing actually."

"Good. You got a notification?"

"Yeah. Saturday two to four."

"You're welcome."

"Uh-huh. And my free session. Is that here or...?"

"Yeah, more discreet, I agree."

"No problem, looking forward to it."

"Uh-huh. See you on the weekend first, I guess."

Andrea hung up, the smile that had been playing over her face earlier now a broad, and almost lascivious, grin.

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Melanie was also smiling after the call. The portfolio of club members was accessible to staff. She recalled well her astonishment at first seeing Susan's name and photo. Her second reaction had been one of horror, and of having to abandon her weekend job; and she really needed the extra money.

But - on reflection - she had come to see that it was a case of mutually assured destruction. Susan couldn't 'out' Melanie at work without also 'outing' herself. Melanie had figured that she was safe, but had also determined that staying out of Miss Portman's way was probably the wisest approach. That was until the presentation of course...

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Susan spent Saturday morning at her esthetics salon, she liked to be nice and tidy for her club appointments, particularly if she was lucky enough to be meeting another woman. There was a nail spa in the same strip mall, and she next visited there. Now with bright scarlet finger- and toenails and just a pencil line of pubic hair, she felt special, the sort of woman who deserved a treat.

Back home, she made herself a salad for lunch, not wanting to feel too heavy. A shower, a change of clothes, and she was ready for an Uber to her destination. She arrived fifteen minutes before two o'clock. Andrea welcomed her with an effusive smile.

There were small individual changing rooms, each with a closet and a full-length mirror. Susan's collar was laid out on a side table. Having disrobed, leaving only her heels on, she wrapped the leather band around her neck and buckled it, making sure the metal ring was centered.

She stood and looked at her reflection. Maybe she wasn't quite the woman she had been ten years ago, but Susan knew she still had it. She turned and looked over her shoulder, thinking how pretty her still pert butt would look after the session.

Watches weren't allowed, and Susan checked the time before putting it in the locker with her purse and phone. She took a deep breath and opened the second door which led into her punishment room.

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Susan's eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. Often there was equipment here, wooden frames with attachment points or Velcro straps, the pommel horse she had held onto last time, a St. Andrew's cross, once even a revolving round table. Today the emptiness of the space was conspicuous. But - picked out by a single spotlight - two heavy chains hung from the center of the ceiling. Chains ending in padded leather cuffs. The metal glinted and Susan shivered.

She peered into the gloom, but it seemed that she was alone. Then light streamed from an open door, but the person who stepped in was not the one Susan had been expecting.

"Mistress Jett has asked me to secure you first, Miss Portman. Would you mind?" Andrea tilted her head toward the restraints.

This was far from normal, indeed Susan had only ever seen Andrea at the front desk. But it was... rather deliciously exciting. She walked to stand in the middle of the room and lifted her arms above her head. Her heart was already pounding.

Andrea fastened Susan's left wrist and then her right. Perhaps inadvertently she brushed her arm against Susan's breast, which made the older woman tingle. She pulled on her binds, the leather was soft yet strong. This wasn't too bad, Susan thought.

Then, with a smile, the receptionist went to the side of the room. Susan couldn't see exactly what she was doing, but there was a soft whir of an electric motor and the chains tightened. Now Susan was stretched rather uncomfortably and a little unsteady. She tried moving her feet closer together, but it didn't help much.

Andrea exited, leaving Susan teetering and twisting, but she soon returned pushing a rolling table. Its top was covered with a black cloth. Andrea parked it close to Susan and, with a parting, "The Mistress will be with you soon," she left, shutting the door.

Susan was off balance, both physically and emotionally. But - as the sound of her panting echoed off the walls - she realized that her excitement was also soaring. Her nipples had hardened. Her face was warm. Her skin was feeling prickly. And her pussy was throbbing.

The door opened again and a figure was silhouetted by the exterior lighting. She held not a whip, as in her promotional photos, but what Susan instantly recognized as a riding crop. Despite her experience of impact play, which extended to much more fearsome instruments, Susan found herself gulping.

Mistress Jett closed the door behind her and stood for a while regarding her client. Despite her bound state and commingling trepidation and anticipation, Susan also assessed the other woman. Masked, as all the employees were. Her blonde hair falling over athletic shoulders.

The dominatrix was around Susan's height, maybe an inch or so taller. She was wearing the same leather bodysuit and it displayed her form beautifully. Svelte and yet lightly muscled, she exuded a sense of somatic power, but coupled with almost feline grace. Everything about her was taut and sleek, but with a palpable underlying energy. Susan could feel her own body responding to the Mistress's.

"You checking me out, bitch?" Mistress Jett asked.

There was something about her voice, thought Susan. A swish of the other woman's crop had the CFO instead focusing on a reply. "No... well, yes. You're... you're beautiful..." again she gulped, "...mistress."

That brought a grin to the Mistress's face. She strode forward and stopped eighteen inches from Susan's strung up and naked body, leaning slightly forward so that their faces were close. A mix of floral and woody aromas reached her nose. Then the dominatrix gripped Susan's cheeks in her gloved hand and turned her prisoner's head first one way and then the other in an appraising manner.

"Not bad... for your age at least... good bone structure." She released Susan and stood upright. "I'm told you can take a lot of pain. Is that right, bitch?"

As Mistress Jett spoke, she ran her crop up the inside of Susan's leg, then very softly patted the older woman's pussy with the implement. Susan gasped. "Yes, Mistress. Whatever you choose to do with me," she breathed.

While the mask made it difficult to be sure, this statement seemed to elicit what Susan thought was a strange reaction from the other woman. Was that uncertainty in her expression? Doubt even? The executive noticed that she had been holding her breath and exhaled noisily.

"What I want to do," said the Mistress, "is this."

She dropped her crop with a clatter and reached behind her head with both arms, her hands unbuckling and loosening. When Mistress Jett removed the mask, Susan gasped more fiercely than before. She began to exclaim, "Mel..." but the other woman put a palm over her mouth, the smell of leather in Susan's nostrils.

"Wait!" Melanie commanded. "Let me speak first, OK?"

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Susan nodded and Melanie removed her hand. The younger woman took one step back. Her full face visible, the indecision which wracked it was now all too evident. The older woman had so many thoughts running through her head - not least her nudity and shackles - but stayed silent, just as she had been instructed.

Melanie began uncertainly. "I... I wanted to... I worked so hard on my presentation... and..."

"And I cut your legs from under you," said Susan quietly. The younger woman had been looking at the floor, but now glanced up, her eyes glistening.

"I was, as you say, a bitch to you," continued the executive, internally aware of the massive contrast between what she was saying and her current situation. "Or that's what it felt like, I'm sure."

"Go on," said Melanie.

"But youhadmade a mistake, right?" said Susan. "Better to have that pointed out sooner rather than later. And..."

Susan paused unsure how much more to add. "And you could be better. You need to be better. Women need to be close to perfect if we are to..."

"... compete with men?" asked Melanie. "I'm not sure I feel that way. Maybe women your age, I..."

"The struggle goes on Melanie." Susan was now adopting the same honeyed tone she had used with Ed. "You have ability, but you also need to learn. Maybe to have a mentor."

"You mean?" said Melanie, rather incredulously. "Even after...?" She gestured at the chains.

"I get it," said Susan, "you wanted to get even, to punish me for what you saw as me punishing you, right?"

The younger woman nodded silently.

"And serendipity placed me in your power, didn't it?" Susan continued. "Then, I don't know, you had second thoughts, decided it was a bad idea."

"Something like that," agreed Melanie.

"But you got two things wrong," said Susan.

Melanie was now ultra-attentive. "Two things?"

"Yes. First, I wasn't trying to punish you, I was trying to help you. To open your eyes to what good looks like. I was trying to educate you."

"And the second thing?" the young woman inquired.

Susan ventured a grin. "The second thing is Iliketo be punished. I love it. Can I make a suggestion?"

"OK," replied Melanie tentatively.

"Let's make a deal," said Susan. "How about I help you with your deck for next time? And, more generally, take you under my wing."

"And what's in it for you?" asked Melanie, expressing something close to shock.

Susan wriggled in her binds, then purred. "Well you could show me your crop technique for a start. And... well I did pay for a full personal service afterwards."