Payment Behind - Part 2

The story continues, from Blushes Supplement 17

Harry could scarcely contain himself. Had he really done it to that Connie? Spanked her bottom? Her bare, white, wobbly bum? It was almost too amazing to believe, the sort of thing you read about but never imagined actually happening. But he knew it was true, it had happened. Dreams and day-dreams were different, there was always that aura of otherness about them, whereas this… It had been unreal in a way simply because it was so fantastic but at the same time Harry knew it was reality alright. The solid splat of his hand juddering the resilient flesh. Flesh that hadn’t stayed white for very long. Those grunts and gasps from Connie. And afterwards when it was clear she had really had all she wanted to take, and was maybe even wondering if it was worth the twenty five quid off her arrears. Oh yes, it had happened alright.

Afterwards, right afterwards, he had had to pay a visit to the bathroom. As he had done earlier after his studied perusal of Mayfair; only this, the real live business with Connie, had been ten times better than Mayfair. He had come in no time flat.

What now? Well clearly there was the rest of the £280 arrears hanging over Connie’s head. She didn’t want to pay it, indeed it seemed couldn’t pay it at the moment. And Harry? Yes he was prepared for more of the same. Payment in kind. Services in lieu. Services of a pretty, rounded, bare bottom. At your service, Mr Brown. Oh yes, Harry was sure she was ready for more business, even if maybe a little reluctantly, and so, very much, was he.

But there was Madge. He needed her out of the way. Because there was no doubt if he was going to be in and out of Connie’s flat (Harry savoured for the moment the heady expression, in and out. Well why not?), but if he was going to be in and out of her flat, and he had every intention of doing so, then he needed to get rid of Madge. Temporarily of course. Nothing drastic or, as you might say, terminal. But for a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks. The thought of it almost made Harry need to go to the bathroom again.

And there was a way, a possibility of getting his dear wife out of the house for a spell, Madge’s sister Doris was not well and Madge had more than once said that she really should go and see her. But Doris lived down in Devon and it was so difficult with the shop. Harry had not disagreed. A spell without Madge moaning would be attractive alright but he couldn’t handle the shop all by himself and getting someone in would cost money. But that thinking was before yesterday. Before his visit upstairs and having that Connie’s marvellous bum across his lap. Now things were very different. Who cared if it cost a few quid to get in a bit of help?

Better be careful though. Madge could have a very suspicious side to her, and if she got any inkling… Harry shivered with excitement. Just imagine it. Madge down in Devon for a couple of weeks and he, Harry, here with Connie all to himself. With £250 of rent arrears to play with. Christ! Slow down, he told himself. A man can die of over-excitement. Take it easy. Softly, softly…

‘I should go and see ‘er, poor old gal,’ said Madge. ‘But ‘ow can we manage? ‘Ow can you manage, Harry?’

Shaking his head, Harry observed piously that sometimes you had to. And with a sudden show of inspiration, ‘And now I’ve read the riot act to her upstairs we can, if need be, spare a couple of bob and get a girl part-time. A young one of course so we won’t have to pay her much.’

Madge considered this. Was Harry perhaps imaging he could get in some young piece of fluff he could mess around with? She decided probably not. Not that she wouldn’t put it past him to try something behind her back, but Harry was getting too old for that sort of thing now. And what girl would let him? Anyway Madge would certainly vet any prospective assistant.

‘Are you sure ‘er upstairs is really going to pay all that back money? Right away?’ It seemed too good to be true.

‘Oh yes,’ Harry said. ‘I really put the fear of God in her. Said she’d be out on her ear.’

Madge snorted. It didn’t sound like Harry. ‘Where ‘as she got it all of a sudden then? Gone on the game, ‘as she? Or found ‘erself a sugar-daddy?’

----//----

‘She’s going away. For a couple of weeks!’

Harry sounded a bit like a boy who’d been told that school was closing for two weeks. His face was pink with excitement, his eyes were shining. It was the next morning and he had just burst in on Connie, after ringing her buzzer. Connie gave him a querying look. She was getting ready to go to work.

‘How d’you manage that then? I’m surprised she lets you out of her sight, what with the things you like to do.’

Harry explained about Madge’s sister. Connie, putting on some lipstick, was looking mouth-watering in crisp blouse and full navy skirt. Harry thought hotly of what was underneath: Connie’s fabulous body — plus sexy underthings no doubt. Would there perhaps be time now for a quick…?

‘Hey, get off,’ she told him. ‘I’ll be late. And anyway I didn’t say…’

Harry’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yes you did. And think of the rent. There’s all the rest of it to settle up. And two whole weeks!’

Connie gave a non-committal grunt and pushed Harry away — but not before he’d got his hand briefly on her bottom. So he’d managed to fix it. She might have known. She had been thinking about it of course. And had really been in two minds. She hadn’t liked it, it was humiliating and embarrassing having a man do that to you — apart from the fact it hurt. But on the other hand it would be a great weight off her mind to get the back rent settled. The back rent and perhaps even a bit on account? But not now. She had to get to work. And it wouldn’t do him any harm to have to wait. It might mean she could strike a better bargain if his tongue was hanging out for it.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she repeated.

But she also had to push by her landlord. Harry couldn’t really help himself; his hands seemed to have a will of their own. Connie gave a yelp as one hand grabbed up her skirt and the other grabbed her. Oh yes! She was wearing the cutest little knickers, which left considerable parts of her bottom bare. Oh yes…

‘Get off!’ she yelped. But Harry didn’t — or couldn’t. Not at once at least.

----//----

Three days later. Saturday 9.50 am. Madge in deepest Devon was wondering vaguely about Harry, and about that girl who was coming in to help part-time. She had seemed a quiet, innocent young thing, not exactly sexy-looking. No, Madge didn’t really think Harry would get any ideas. And also the girl had looked too innocent to have her hand in the till. Yes, things were probably alright, not that she could exactly trust Harry.

Somehow she didn’t think of Connie…

Connie was in her little kitchen. And no doubt Madge’s eyes would have widened considerably if she could see her. Indeed some such expression as ‘Dirty little tart’ might well have sprung from her lips. For Connie was only partially, but very sexily, clothed. A very brief pink gingham skirt (it scarcely reached down to her crotch) with an even smaller apron tied in front. A pair of shimmery white nylons. A sexy white suspender belt fastening the nylons. An almost non-existent pair of pink nylon knickers. White high-heeled shoes.

And that was it. Nothing else. In particular nothing at all above the waist, where Connie’s full and very nubile bare tits were jutting unsupportedly out. Oh yes, Madge would certainly have had something to say; if words didn’t fail her.

Attired thus, Connie was looking at the notice-board on the kitchen wall. It had pinned to it her calendar and various other bits and pieces but she was looking at the note Harry had pinned up yesterday. ‘10 o’clock. ACTION!! Be dressed as required!’

‘As required’ meant what she presently had on. Harry had brought the things up yesterday evening, as soon as Madge had departed. It was the sort of outfit you could well see in the pages of Mayfair. A really sexy outfit, he had thought. It had taken all the nerve he could muster to actually buy these things — in one of those little shops which specialise in such items. It would be like having a real live Mayfair girl. Having her to himself and being able to do what he liked with her — with Madge hundreds of miles away.

He had wanted to start there and then but Connie had to go out. She had a date with her boyfriend but in the circumstances, with what she had got into with Harry, she didn’t like to say anything about that. So she said she had to meet her mother. Harry wondered if he might come round afterwards, later in the evening, but Connie wasn’t having that either. She could imagine him getting ideas about staying the night, and she wasn’t ready for that — not yet at least.

Connie wasn’t all that keen on the things he had brought round either, but Harry was quite insistent. She had to wear them next morning. The situation had definitely changed from what she had planned. She had imagined it would be straightforward with herself in control and letting Harry have some quick simple pleasure — Connie hadn’t been too clear what; perhaps just a look at her body. But very quickly Harry was in charge and not her. First that spanking that she hadn’t liked and now these sexy things he’d got from somewhere. The truth was of course that Harry was in the driver’s seat. Connie needed the rent, that was the bottom line.

What was he going to do? Probably more of the same. Spanking again. And also no doubt more messing about. Connie glanced down at her bare tits — bare because Harry said they had to be. What if Dave came round? She chewed her lip. She would just have to pretend she wasn’t in.

The buzzer went…

What if it was Dave? If she answered she’d have to let him in. And then… No, it had to be Harry. It was ten and that was when he had said and he wasn’t going to be late. Oh no. Mr Harry Bloody Brown. Connie pressed the intercom…

‘Ah, scrumptious,’ breathed Harry as he caught sight of her. ‘Lovely grub!’

Connie made a face. Why did she have to be so stupid with her money and get into situations like this? Unconsciously her arms came across to cover the splendid bare tits.

‘Come on,’ Harry said. ‘Let’s see you. Stand here.’ He moved her to the kitchen doorway. ‘And get your hands up. Hold on to the frame.’

She didn’t want to but Harry’s hand was at her bum. ‘Come on, or I’ll smack it. I’ll spank it with my slipper.’ Connie didn’t want to but… she did it. Raised her hands to the door frame. Harry was crouching down in front, pushing her feet apart. ‘That’s nice, really nice. What a lovely girl.’

Then he was lifting the brief gingham skirt and sliding his fingers in the narrow sides of the bikini knickers. Connie gave a little whimper but stood there as the knickers came down. She was committed to this… so let it happen, she told herself. It wasn’t as if… he was going to do her. There was going to be nothing like that. It was just a bit of fun really. That was what Harry had said. A bit of fun. The trouble was that though it might be fun for Harry it wasn’t for her. It was…

Connie gave another little gasp. Harry had got up, having taken her knickers down to her spread knees, His hands were round her waist, pulling the skirt up, tucking it in around her waist. That meant she was all bare. There was just the suspender belt and the nylons. The previous time, the first time, she of course had had nothing on under her dressing gown. He had seen everything then, he had certainly seen everything when he had her over his lap because he had deliberately made her spread her legs. But somehow even that had been different than standing here in these things with her arms up and her boobs stuck out and…

‘Don’t…’ she whimpered as his two hands reached round and grasped the cheeks of her bottom. Harry, his face close, grinned. ‘Don’t what?’

He let go. And then he bent down. She didn’t see what it was he had in his hand as he came up again. But then…

Splatt!!…

Connie yelped out. It was his slipper. A solid but flexible slice of leather. And he had really slammed it in. ‘Aaaeeehhh!’ she yelled again as the hard leather slipper came in a second time. ‘Don’t, please…’

‘Doesn’t hurt, does it?’ he laughed. He did it again, this time bringing the slipper up from underneath, splatting the twin undercurves of her bottom.

‘Don’t!’ she yelped. ‘That bloody thing… No!’

But it had come in again. Connie’s hands let go. Harry pushed her on down. Down on her knees on the carpet. ‘Naughty girl! You weren’t told you could let go. Were you? Come on then. Bend right over. Get your bottom out.’

His hand was pushing her down, arching her ripe bottom out. The slipper came in again, squarely across the now out-thrust nates.

Crack!!…

Crack!!!…

Crack!!!!…