Part 14. Suzanne's Assignment.


	Malcolm was not having a good day.  Had he known of the day that Amy and
Claire were having he might have concluded it wasn't so bad after all, but he
didn't know.  He had hoped to get out of work today in order to track down
Manfred, but it hadn't been possible.  As a temp worker, he had to show up for
his assignments if he expected to get future ones and today was the start of a
new one--not a good time to be absent.  His assignments usually lasted two weeks
to six months and after he'd been there a while and gotten to know people, he
could wangle the occasional day off if he needed it, but for the first day he
had to be there.

	Not that it would have done him much good to be off anyway.  He'd called
Mike who was also getting nowhere.  His company's computers were down, Brad
hadn't shown up, and he hadn't been able to find anyone else who had heard of
Manfred.  Additionally, the crisis caused by the computer system being down
meant that he couldn't get away either.

	The day offered no promise of any progress in locating Manfred.  Malcolm
decided it was a good day for a distraction and placed a phone call.

	"Suzanne," Malcolm said into the phone, "today is the day you open your
envelope."

	Suzanne opened the inner envelope and read the instructions.

Suzanne:

	You are to dress as follows: your red silk blouse (no bra), black
miniskirt, red panties to match your blouse, white stockings and red pumps. 
Take a cab to the shoe store at 15th and Olive.  Take enough money for cab fare,
but no more.  Don't wear any jewelry or take any ID.  Enter the store at
precisely 7:00 PM and ask for Harold.  Tell him you want to buy the sexiest
shoes he has.  Do as he tells you.  He may try several pair on you before
choosing a pair.  The decision as to which is the sexiest pair will be his, not
yours.  Once he has made a choice, you are to stand and approach each person in
the store and ask, "What do you think of my new shoes?"  Memorize their answers. 
You will be required to repeat them to me.  You must say, "Thank you for your
opinion," to each one and nothing else.  You are then to stand 10 feet from the
front door until the store closes at 8:00 PM.  If anyone else enters during that
time, you are to ask them what they think of your shoes.  Once Harold has closed
the store, you are to pay for the shoes in whatever manner he specifies.  After
making payment, you are to leave the store and stand at the curb in front and
wait for me.  You will stand straight with your hands clasped behind your back. 
You will look straight ahead and not speak to anyone.  When I arrive, you are to
get into the car and do as I tell you.

	"He's up to something," had been Suzanne's first thought when she had
read the instructions.  There seemed to be a major omission.  She had not been
instructed to wear the new shoes out of the store, and in the absence of any
such stricture, she fully intended to present herself to Malcolm in her old
shoes.  Malcolm surely knew her better than that.  How could he make such an
error?  She had been told to obey Harold.  Perhaps he would issue the necessary
command.  She studied the rest of her instructions, but didn't see anything
wrong.  She reread them again and again, memorizing each detail.

	The cab dropped Suzanne in front of the shoe store at three minutes to
seven.  She spent the three minutes looking in through the windows.  There was
only one salesman and one customer in the store.

	Suzanne entered and approached the counter, where the salesman was
ringing up a sale for the departing customer.

	"I'm looking for Harold," she told the salesman as the other woman
headed for the door with her parcel.

	"I am Harold," the salesman replied.

	"I want to buy the sexiest shoes you have."

	"Certainly, miss.  Sit in the third chair from the end on the back side. 
Once seated, place your hands behind your head, fingers interlaced, elbows
parallel to your shoulders."

	Suzanne happily did exactly as she was told.  Harold had obviously been
carefully instructed by Malcolm.  There were two short rows of back to back
chairs.  She sat in the third chair farthest from the front of the store and
facing away from the register.

	Harold seated himself in front of Suzanne.  Upon command she extended
each of her feet and Harold removed her shoes.  He carefully measured her feet,
issuing a continuous stream of instructions.  Suzanne complied, extending first
one foot and then the other, holding them exactly as required by Harold and
becoming more turned on as the process progressed.

	"Place the balls of your feet on the floor with heels elevated as high
as possible," Harold ordered when he had completed his measurements, then strode
off to the stock room.

	While he was gone, another customer entered.  She passed in front of
Suzanne and then disappeared behind her to take a seat out of view.  She was
somewhat older than Suzanne and, although not unattractive, dressed rather
severely in a business suit with a skirt that hung below her knees and rather
clunky shoes.  She looked down her nose as her eye was drawn to Suzanne's rather
provocative pose.

	Harold returned a few minutes later carrying several boxes.  Suzanne was
sitting exactly as he had left her.  "I'll be with you shortly," Harold said to
the newcomer.  He put a pair of red high heeled shoes, not all that different
from her own, on Suzanne's feet and required her to walk the length of the store
and back.  She was not allowed to take her arms down.

	Suzanne was surprised that there were no mirrors in the store.  Without
mirrors, how would customers be able to see themselves in their new shoes?

	"Nope, not what we're looking for," Harold commented upon her return and
fitted another pair of shoes onto her feet.  These were white with slightly
higher heels than the last pair.  Once again, she was required to parade the
length of the store and back.

	"Still not it."

	The next pair he put on her was black and had even higher heels and
ankle straps.  This time she tottered a bit as she tried to walk a straight line
in the shoes with her arms up behind her head.

	"That's it," Harold announced as she sat down.  "These are the shoes you
will buy."  He leaned down and tightened the buckle on each ankle strap another
notch.

	"What about my old shoes?" Suzanne asked, her voice sounding breathy due
to her increasing arousal.

	"I will retain them," Harold replied.

	A younger couple had entered the store during her last parade through
it.

	Suzanne had orders to carry out.  She walked over and stood before the
older woman, hands still behind her head.  "What do you think of my new shoes?"

	"You look like a trollop.  I certainly hope they're going to spank you,"
the woman replied.

	"Thank you for your opinion."

	Suzanne approached the young couple, standing first in front of the man. 
"What do you think of my new shoes?"

	"Very sexy," he replied enthusiastically.

	"Thank you for your opinion."

	"What do you...think of my new shoes?" she gasped, positioning herself
in front of the man's companion.  She was beginning to have trouble controlling
her breathing.

	"Very nice," she replied with considerably less warmth than her escort.

	"Thank you...for...your...opinion," Suzanne replied, just barely
retaining control of herself.

	Suzanne positioned herself to the side of the front door, waiting to see
if anyone else would enter before it was time to pay Harold.  She wondered what
the new shoes looked like on her.  The posture enforced upon her had only given
her a brief glimpse of them when they had been taken out of the box.  She had
not seen them since.

	As she waited, her excitement seemed to diminish.  She began plotting
how to exploit Malcolm's omission in her instructions.  She still hadn't been
commanded to wear her new shoes out of the store, but since Harold had taken
custody of her old ones, she decided she would exit wearing no shoes.  That
would teach Malcolm to formulate his instructions more carefully, she gloated.

	Harold waited on the couple.  Suzanne was surprised that he waited on
the young couple first.  It was after 8:00 by the time they were gone.

	Harold placed the "closed" sign in the window.  He still hadn't waited
on the other woman.

	"Follow me," Harold commanded and led her to the stock room.

	Upon arrival, Harold ordered her to stand in the center of the
shipping/receiving area near the back door.  Suzanne did as she was told.

	Harold left the stock room to wait on his remaining customer.  He
returned after a short while.

	"Now, on your knees and clasp your hands behind your back."

	Suzanne knelt, then gratefully took her arms down.  They were beginning
to tire.  She looked expectantly at Harold, her juices beginning to flow again.

	Harold stepped behind her, bent down, and latched a pair of handcuffs on
her.

	Suzanne's arms jerked suddenly as she felt the bracelets close about her
wrists.  "Why...," she began.
	
	Suzanne was crestfallen.  She had just started getting all worked up
again and the handcuffs trashed the whole experience.  They made her feel
helpless and that frightened her.  What she liked was choosing to obey, not
being forced or coerced.

	Harold seemed oblivious to her sudden change.  He stood before her,
unzipped his fly, and presented himself.  "Make it good," he commanded.  "Your
performance will determine your discount."

	Suzanne opened her mouth and set about the task of pleasing Harold.

	When she had finished, Harold led her out of the stock room.  Suzanne
was startled to see the woman who had called her a trollop still sitting in the
store.  She sat stone faced, not looking at Suzanne.  Her hands were folded
primly in her lap, but her shoes were off and her feet positioned exactly as
Suzanne's had been.  Her left ankle was chained to the chair in which she sat. 
Just what kind of shoe store was this?

	Harold led her to the register and told her fifty dollars was being
charged to her credit card, then opened the front door for her.  Just before
exiting, she bent to unbuckle her shoes, intending to leave them behind, only to
discover that attached to each buckle was a small padlock.  The shoes were
locked onto her feet.  So that was Malcolm's little joke.  She knew he had been
up to something, but had been completely taken in when no instructions to wear
the shoes outside had been forthcoming.

	Suzanne strode forth and stood at the curb as required.  She longed to
look back into the store, to see what was going on with the chained woman, but
she had been commanded to look straight ahead, and so she did.  She endured
catcalls and various other insults from passing cars, but as per instruction,
didn't respond.

	A car pulled up to the curb, right in front of Suzanne.  "Hey, baby, you
wanna ride?"  Suzanne didn't move or speak.  "Hey, bitch, I'm talkin' a  you.  I
axed you if you wanna ride."  Suzanne remained as before.  The passenger door
opened.  As the occupant started to get out, he glanced past Suzanne to see
Harold standing in the door, idly twirling a handgun around his finger.  He got
back in again.  The car sped away, but not before whoever it was had splashed
his drink all over the front of Suzanne.  Dr. Pepper from the smell of it.

	Shortly thereafter, Malcolm pulled up next to her.  "Get in."  Suzanne
opened the door and got in.  "What have you got all over you?"

	"I think it's Dr. Pepper."

	"I hate that shit.  Take your blouse off."  Suzanne did as she was told. 
Malcolm pulled over.  "Now go put it in the trunk," he ordered, pulling the
trunk release latch.

	People in passing cars honked and yelled as Suzanne, now topless, walked
back to the trunk, tossed her blouse in, and returned to her seat.

	"Better," Malcolm commented, "but you still smell like that crap.  We're
going to have to hose you down once we get there.  Now, close your eyes and keep
them closed until I say to open them."

	Most of Malcolm's customers arrived at his building blindfolded.  This
wasn't necessary with Suzanne.  Once instructed to close her eyes, they would
stay that way.  Meanwhile, Suzanne was getting turned on again obeying Malcolm.

	Once at their destination, Malcolm directed her inside.  Suzanne, eyes
still closed, proceeded according to Malcolm's instructions.  "Three steps
forward, now turn right, five more steps, then stop.  Before you is a stairway. 
Go up ten steps and stop..."

	This was the kind of thing Suzanne loved.  By the time she got to where
they were going, she was breathing heavily, although the journey had not been
physically taxing.  Malcolm knew that if she was ordered to submit to sex now,
she would go off like a rocket.  However, Malcolm had other plans.

	"Open your eyes, Suzanne, then come over and sit before me, hands behind
your head like at the shoe store."

	Suzanne obeyed.  They were in a medium sized room that resembled a
living room.  Malcolm stood before a low stool Suzanne sat facing him.  Malcolm
sat before her, commanded her to extend her leg and place her foot in his lap. 
He unlocked and removed her shoe, then repeated the operation for with her other
shoe.  Malcolm then told her to stand and undress, directing her disrobing in
minute detail.

	"Now, go through the door behind you and take a shower, then dry
yourself and return here," Malcolm instructed her once she was naked.  "And
don't touch yourself in any way that's pleasurable."

	Suzanne did as ordered and after a bit returned to stand before Malcolm
who was now sitting in a large easy chair.

	"Now, tell me how everyone liked your shoes."

	"Well, there was an older woman.  She called me a trollop..."

	"What were her exact words?"

	"She said, 'You look like a trollop.  I certainly hope they're going to
spank you.'  What did she mean by that?  She was chained to her chair when I
left."

	"She probably didn't want to be the only one getting a spanking tonight. 
And the others?"

	"There was a couple...The man said... 'very sexy'... I think he was
pretty turned on."  Suzanne's breathing was becoming increasingly ragged.  "The
woman...said...'very nice'...but she...was pretty...turned off."

	"Anyone else?"

	"No."

	"What about Harold?  How did he like your shoes?"

	Suzanne turned bright red.  She had been so wrapped up in the thing
about wearing the shoes outside that this one had gone right by her.  She had
been commanded to get everyone's opinion and she hadn't asked Harold.  She
considered making something up, but she was pretty sure Harold would have given
her a canned response scripted by Malcolm.  He would spot the lie instantly. 
Besides, that wouldn't be fair.

	"So you didn't ask Harold, did you, Suzanne.  You didn't obey."

	"No," Suzanne groaned.

	"Tell me what you think I should do about that."

	"Punish me?"  Suzanne replied in the tiniest of voices.  Suzanne didn't
like being punished, but felt that she deserved it when she failed to obey.  If
Malcolm failed to impose a penalty, Suzanne would punish herself and everyone
around her by being a total bitch, a fact that Malcolm had learned the hard way.

	"Yes, of course you'll be punished, but tonight you're going to choose
your own penalty.  So tell me, how shall you pay for your failure to obey?"

	Suzanne couldn't believe Malcolm was letting her get away with choosing
her own penance.  She was thinking five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys might be
about right when Malcolm interrupted her deliberation.

	"One thing, however.  I'll administer whatever punishment you choose,
but if I feel it's inadequate, it will be followed by a much harsher one of my
own."

	Suzanne reconsidered her choice.  "Maybe that woman should get her wish. 
Maybe she shouldn't be the only one getting a spanking tonight." Suzanne said
almost inaudibly.

	Malcolm was astounded.  He had never spanked Suzanne and had always
assumed her aversion to bondage included corporal punishment.  He had
occasionally used bondage as a punishment, but it had never occurred to him to
spank her.  Malcolm decided to hand her some more rope and see what she did with
it.  He led Suzanne into the room where he had spanked Amy and opened one of the
cabinets that lined the wall.  It contained a short multi-thonged whip, a riding
crop, a cane, a couple of paddles, and a heavy wooden ruler.

	"Select one and hand it to me."

	Suzanne gazed at the implements for a few moments, then selected the
cane and handed it to Malcolm.  Again Malcolm was surprised.  She had selected
what was probably the most painful implement of the group.  He wondered if she
knew that.  The other items did look more intimidating.  Nonetheless, she had
made her choice.  He would use the cane on her.

	"Now," Malcolm announced, "you're going to choose the number of strokes
you'll receive.  Choose a number between 1 and 50.  Whatever number you choose
is the number you'll get."

	"There's got to be a catch," Suzanne thought to herself.

	"However, there's a catch.  If you choose a number that I think is too
low, you'll receive the whole 50."

	"Is ten too low?"

	"Choose a number, Suzanne."

	"Alright...twenty."

	"A good choice.  Twenty it is.  Now walk up to the end of the log, bend
over and wrap your arms around it."

	"You're not going to chain me down, are you?" Suzanne asked, eyeing the
manacles dangling from the underside of the log.

	"Certainly not.  It will be up to you to keep your arms wrapped around
the log while you're being spanked.  If you let go or stand up, however, then I
will chain you down and you'll receive the full fifty.  Do you understand?"

	"Yes."

	"Good.  Now get in position."

	Suzanne bent over the log and wrapped her arms around it.  Malcolm took
up his own position and brought the cane down smartly on Suzanne's backside.

	"OWW!  Hey, not so hard," Suzanne complained, then "AHHH!" as Malcolm
delivered an even harder stroke.

	"Suzanne, which one of us is being punished?"

	"I am, but..."

	"You are, no buts.  You've got your code word if you want to leave, but
until then just remember that I'm the one doing the spanking.  You're the one
being spanked."

	Each of Malcolm's customers was given a code word.  If she said the
word, her adventure was ended in that instant and Malcolm took her home. 
However, it would cost her $500.  Malcolm charged $1500 for the little adventure
he provided to his client.  If she completed it without using her code word, she
would receive a $500 rebate.  If, however, she used the word, she was charged
the full $1500.  This served to provide his customer with a feeling of security,
knowing that she could bail if it got to be too much, but also provided Malcolm
with a level of coercion that was a turn on to his customers.

	Nonetheless, Malcolm moderated his blows.  He didn't want Suzanne to
bail on him just when he was discovering fascinating new things about her.

	By the seventh blow, Suzanne was gripping the log with all her might and
starting to shed tears.  By the tenth, she was shrieking.

	"Malcolm, stop.  You've got to stop.  I don't think I can stand twenty."

	"Then use your code word."

	"Couldn't you just stop at twelve?"

	It was obvious to Malcolm that Suzanne didn't want to use the word.  He
decided to push her a little farther.

	"No.  You get the full twenty.  You chose this penalty and you're going
to go through with it."

	"But what if I let go, or get up?"

	"Then I'll chain you down and you'll get the full fifty."

	"Oh, god, oh, god..." Suzanne shrieked as another blow landed.  Her
hands jerked convulsively toward her flaming posterior.

	"Malcolm," Suzanne choked, "Malcolm, chain me down now.  I can't hold on
for any more.  Chain me down."

	Malcolm paused and locked the manacles on Suzanne's wrists.

	"I'm going to add a five stroke penalty since you're not holding on of
your own free will anymore."

	"What do you mean?"

	"I mean we're going to twenty-five now, not twenty."

	"Oh, god.  Oh my god."

	"Would you prefer fifty?"

	By the fifteenth stroke, Suzanne was shrieking and kicking her feet
about wildly.

	"I think we'd better chain your ankles."

	"Please, no."

	"Spread your legs, Suzanne."

	Suzanne did as commanded and Malcolm chained her ankles to the legs of
the trestle.

	"Only ten to go," Malcolm informed her.

	"Oh my god.  Oh god...I can't stand it..."

	Malcolm eased up a bit, not wanting to push Suzanne too far.  Even so,
she screamed at the top of her lungs and thrashed wildly.  Her chains gave her a
freedom to struggle that she hadn't had when trying to remain in position by
willpower.

	By the twenty-fifth stroke, Suzanne lay limp against the log, physically
exhausted and covered in sweat.  Malcolm was afraid he'd gotten a little carried
away.  Suzanne's backside was covered with welts.  Nonetheless, she had endured
the whipping without using her code word.  That definitely said something about
her.

	Malcolm ran his hand up between her legs.  Suzanne jumped as his fingers
brushed across one of her welts, but she was definitely moist.  It had to be the
spanking, Malcolm told himself.  He had bound or chained her on more than one
occasion and it had always turned her off.  The spanking had turned her on in
spite of the bondage.  It was a more severe spanking than he would normally
inflict on a beginner.  Perhaps she wasn't a beginner when it came to spanking. 
"I sure know how to pick 'em," Malcolm told himself, remembering the night he'd
spotted Suzanne in the bar.  He continued caressing Suzanne who began moaning.