Secretary    Chapter 4 of 6    (MF, M+F, Hum, Exh,. D/S, BDSM,
oral, anal, pun,)


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comments regarding your enjoyment, suggested improvements or
notice of serious discrepancies at  sam4fun49 yahoo com (@)  
Anyone who knows of executive employment opportunities where
sexual harassment policies and laws are non-existent, with
willing employees,   please e-mail marked urgent, in triplicate.
(I'd hate to miss it) 


Secretary  chap four

Amy eyes opened slowly.  She blinked.  Where was she?  Oh yes,
she remembered now, the discovery, the spanking, the humiliating
exit from the company offices.  Then their visit to her
apartment, and finally the humiliating arrival at the mansion. 
She had been stripped and then escorted to this room.  They tied
her to the bed, arms and legs spread, a single sheet covering
her, and the lights doused.  How she had cried herself to sleep.

She raised her head to examine the room.  Beige walls, a large
dresser, a closet.  Two doors, one she had entered thru, the
other probably a bathroom.  That was it.  No sign of anything
showing use.  The closet empty, as was the top of the dresser. 
She lowered her head again.  What was going to happen to her?
After a while, without anything to occupy her, she dozed
lightly.

A lock was being used.  She heard the tumblers click, then the
key sliding out.  The door to the room opened.  The CEO stood in
the doorway.  Her Aunt entered.   She was dressed in a diaphanous
long robe, underneath could be seen a beautiful, blue negligee. 
Her Aunt came and sat on the bed.  

"I have been appointed your guardian and mentor." her aunt began.
 "I will be your sponsor for your training and therefore your
performance.  Since this means that I will be responsible for
your success and your failure.  Therefore, I cannot allow your
failure, so I will have to be a severe taskmaster, to ensure your
success.  Understand, if I receive punishment for your actions,
you will be repaid double.
I did not ask for this, but it cannot be changed."  

"Now When we are here at Master's home, (Yes he is your Master
now) you will fill the position of maid or serving girl.  You
will be given appropriate clothing when you are allowed such
privilege   You will serve in that respect unless you are
receiving you punishment.  You will serve similarly for me when
we are not here at the mansion."  

"Now it is time to get up.  Your first training is that you will
rise promptly at 5:45 am daily.  You will take 15 minutes to
bathe, apply your makeup, dress, and tidy you room.  Then, you
will report to the kitchen.  There you will help the cook with
breakfast, in any way she requests.  Breakfast is at 6:15
precisely, so you will have to work quickly to set the table
etc..  At 6:30, you will be allowed 5 minutes to feed yourself. 
Then you will clear the table etc..  On work days, you will
change quickly, and we will leave for the office at 6:45.  If you
are at my apartment, you will prepare our breakfast, serve and
clear, and wash and dry the dishes.  We will leave at 6:45 from
there too."

"Your clothes will be picked for you each day, often from a menu
sheet.  You will have to keep you clothes clean and well pressed,
in order to have them available.  Failure to wear the designated
clothes, or dirty, wrinkled or slovenly attire or appearance will
be severely punished."

"You will follow every order of Mr. Young, myself, or the staff.
Hesitation, refusal, or complaint will be dealt with accordingly.
 Do you have any questions?"

Amy shook her head.  She was going to be a servant, a simple
indentured servant, working off her sentence.  How medieval.  

Her aunt released her binding.  "Ok, its 6:07, you're already
late.  I'll take you to report to the cook.  See if you can earn
the privilege of clothes, before the weekend is out."

What!  She had to earn clothes.  She had to be naked, before not
only the CEO and her aunt, but the house staff.  How many were
there?  Damn. Damn. Damn.  But what choice did she have.     

Amy rose from the bed.  The discomfort in her buttocks added a
new thought.  Her buttocks were bruised, welted.  Everyone would
see the evidence of her chastisement.

Diane gave her no time for thought.  She walked out of the room
and took the arm of the fully dressed CEO.  They headed for the
kitchen.  Amy ran to catch up.  They walked through the halls and
down the stairs.  When they entered the kitchen, the cook looked
up.  It was obvious what she though of intruders into her domain.

  
"This thief is working off her crime.", the CEO made clear Amy's
status.  "She will report to you 15 minute before meals.  She
will set and serve, and do anything else you need while in your
domain.  As you can see she has to earn her keep here.  If she
serves you well, I wish to know of it.  If she does not, I wish
to know as well.  You will have the option of administering any
punishment she earns during her time in your domain.  She all
yours for the next hour.  Will breakfast be on time?"

"Of course, Sir." the cook replied.  "unless this waif commits
some grievous error.  

The CEO nodded, then took the arm of her aunt and left the
kitchen

"Well missy," the cook said as she flipped a pancake.  "Get to
it.  Plates etc. are in the cupboard to the right of the door. 
Service for two.  Silver's in the drawers below,   and clean
tablecloths below that.  Change the linen, and set the table. 
Juice glass, milk glass, as well as cup and saucer.  And
grapefruit spoons.  Then fill the syrup pitchers.  You'll find
them in the cupboard to the left.  Place them on the table, along
with the butter dishes you'll find in the fridge.  A pitcher of
milk too.  Then fill the coffee server, and place it on the side
counter.  You can handle that when everyone is seated.".... "Go"

Amy hurried to carry out the orders.  The tablecloths were
pressed she saw.  And there, beside them, linen napkins, severely
creased.  Ok got it.  She took them to the dining room and
changed the table covering.  The service. In addition to the
plates, she added a bread plate.  Silver at each place.  Should
she place an extra fork?  Better safe than sorry.  Glasses, cups,
and saucers.  She took the napkins and tucked the flaps making
them stand on the plates like she saw in one restaurant.  Filled
the coffee pot, filled the syrup pitcher, topped of the milk
pitcher, and set the butter down.  Butter knives, she rushed back
for them.  As she returned she saw them enter the room.  Her aunt
was in a lovely print sundress, the hem well above her knees. 
She placed the knife then snapped to attention.  Shit.  It hit
her again.  She was naked.  The diners were well dressed, and she
was serving them breakfast, NAKED.

 The CEO helped his guest into a seat, and then sat himself.   He
looked up at Amy expectantly.  THE FOOD.  Amy practically tripped
as she rushed to the kitchen.  The cook was just inside the door,
with a covered tray, a smirk on her face.  

"Coffee is usually poured first at breakfast, dear." said the
cook as she passed the tray.  Amy was stunned, an error already.
She worked so hard to set everything right, then she forgot to
pour coffee.  Damn.  She had to be perfect.  She had to earn some
clothing.  She carried the tray to the table placing it between
the two.  Then she grabbed the coffee pot and poured, careful to
serve from the left and take from the right.  That was the way it
was supposed to be done, wasn't it.   Then she stood against the
side counter, and waited to serve their needs.

The girl was trying.  He could see the defeat in her eyes as she
brought the pancakes to the table, and then poured the coffee. 
Backwards, but correctly presented.  He would not count this
miscue.  He had more than enough to punish her for.  Besides,
being served by a naked slave girl was more interesting than
keeping score.  As they finished eating, he addressed the naked
girl.

"When you've eaten, and finished the dishes, report to me in the
study.", he said.  He dropped his napkin in his plate and stood.
Taking the hand of the older secretary, he retired from the
dining room.  

Amy hurriedly cleared the table, stacking everything neatly by
the sink.  Even changing the linen tablecloth.  The table looked
plain, so she set 4 plates, silver and glasses, as if for a light
meal.  When she returned to the kitchen she saw the cook sitting
in an alcove eating breakfast.  She saw a second plate set beside
her, with three large pancakes.  She approached.  

"Go ahead", the cook said with a laugh.  "We won't starve you." 


Amy hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday.  She plopped into the
chair.  'OH' she had forgotten her wounded bottom.  But she dived
into the meal, with gusto.  The juice was excellent, fresh
squeezed.  And the pancakes were delicious.  Light, fluffy, and
so good.  She drank two whole glasses of milk.

The cook watched her with amusement.  This was a new experience
for her too.  The staff had all been called together last night
to learn of their new boarder.  Miss Wilson, had stayed overnight
before, and the staff had some idea of the games she played with
Mr. Young.  But now they learned that there would be a more
public example of his preferences.  

"Run along, missy.", said the cook when she finished.  "I suspect
today will be a long one for you.  You'd best get started."  She
chuckled lightly.

Amy left the kitchen, and wandered down the hall, looking for the
study.  She found it.  She knocked lightly on the doorjamb.  When
her employer looked up, she said.  "You wanted to see me sir."

"Yes my dear.  Come in.  Stand here in front of me."  She
approached and stopped before his chair.  

"We will commence with your training.", the seated man said, as
he examined the nude before him.  "When ever you stand before me,
and have not yet be given an order, you shall stand with your
hands behind your back clasping one wrist with the other hand. 
Your feet will be shoulder width apart."  You shall take this
position, dressed or undressed.  Here, at work, or anywhere you
are called into my presence.

Amy moved her legs apart, and placed her hands behind her.  She
saw his eyes check the veer of her sex, then up to check the way
her breast were thrust forward.  

"Then we have some positions, which will facilitate your
presence, punishment or exposure.  When you are told to kneel,
you will kneel with your knees shoulder width apart, and your
butt resting on your heels.  Your back must be straight and your
hand behind your back, do so now."

Amy knelt.  It wasn't bad except her heels dug into her bruised
bottom.

"Kneel up, means to rise off your heels, straightening your
entire body from knee to head.  'Attention', chest out stomach in
and all that.  And you will place your hands on top of your head.
 Fingers interlaced.  Kneel up now"

Amy took the ordered position.  She noticed that her aunt was
listening closely.  

"Arch your back more.  This is a present position to show off
your chest and narrow belly.  And push your butt out more. 
Display your assets, Miss Dragger.  

Amy blushed slightly at the thought of displaying her naked body
more than it already was.  But she moved to comply.  

"Please list and demonstrate your positions so far."

Amy jump to her feet.  "Present", she said, and parted her legs
and clasped her hands behind her.  She waited a moment.  "Kneel."
 She dropped to her knees, resting on her heels.  "Kneel up" she
finished, as she rose to a 'brace', back straight, chest and ass
out.

"Very good!" said her captor.  "Now we will continue with
position for punishment and use.  Squat.  Just what it says,
spread you feet two feet apart then lower yourself so your cunt
is framed by your feet and less then 8 inches from the floor. 
Your knees must be spread wide, don't want to hide any of the
view you know.  Your hands should be behind you.

Amy stood then lowered herself into the demeaning position.  She
could feel her labia open, her sex fully on display.  Her cheeks
burned.  It was almost 3 minutes before she heard him speak
again

"Very nice, Miss Dragger, again, make sure your back is arched. 
"Table, means you will get on all fours, arms and legs well
apart, back straight and flat."

Amy fell forward, glad to leave the humiliating squat position. 
Her hands were well apart on the floor.    She tried to arch her
back, making a flat surface like a table.  As she looked up at
him she could see him look below her eyes, at her hanging tits.

"Good.  You will serve often as a table, or footstool."  The man
continued.  "Ass up.  You will drop your chest to the floor, arms
straight out in a 'T', back arched, and your ass high in the air.
 

Amy dropped her arms, and spread them out.  She had to turn her
face to the side.  She arched.  Thank god she was facing him. 
Both her cunt and ass were spread obscenely.  

"You get points for compliance, but none for style.  When you
present you ass, you face it toward the person requesting it.  
When you are ordered to the table position, it should be a
profile view."  The executive continued.  "So from the top, show
me."

Amy jumped back to her feet.  "Present...Kneel....Kneel
up......Squat.......Table.....Ass up."  She announced each
position then performed it.  The squat and the Ass up were hard.
One opened her and the other displayed the openings.  

"Not bad.  Let's continue.  "Breasts.  Kneel, and cup your
breasts.  Present them as if a gift you are giving to the
requester."  He allowed the girl to offer her tits, pausing to
examine them, and to increase her humiliation.  "Back.  Lie on
your back, with your back arched.  Your arms and legs raised and
out at a 45 degree angle."  The girl laid down and spread.  "And
cunt.  On your back as you are, and reach down and pull you pussy
lips wide."

'Oh god' Pull herself open.  'Shit'.  She lowered her hands.  She
had to close her eyes.  She grabbed each labium, and slowly
pulled them apart.  She burned with shame.  She was completely
opened.  He could see up into her cunt she was sure.  Tears
welled up in her eyes.   

"There is two last commands that go together, though both may not
be used." her tormentor said.  "Masturbate and Cum.  Masturbate
means you will use your hands to arouse and stimulate your body.
Your breasts and your cunt.  Don't forget your clit and your
asshole.  Show me you know what I mean."

'Oh god.'  play with her cunt....  with people watching.  'Oh
God.'    She looked up pleading for release from this ordeal. 
But there was no pity there.  Slowly, she started to caress her
labia.  Her face blazed.  Her fingers were clumsy, tentative.  
He just allowed her to continue.  It took several minutes before
she was able to arouse herself.  Slowly, her arousal built.  She
closed out her surrounding, and concentrated on her feelings.  

She was getting close.  Her fingers were teasing her pussy,
tapping at her clit, panting towards her orgasm.  

"When allowed to masturbate, you will not reach completion,
unless you are given the command to Cum."

What.  What did he say?  Not reach completion.  Unless given the
command cum.  She didn't really understand.  She'd lost her
place, so to speak.  Hearing nothing more she concentrated her
pussy again.  Yes, it was building again.    She was close again.
 Soon.  She hand flew.  Yes, pant, going to .......

He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her hands away.  'Nooooooo'  Her
hips thrust upward, reaching for something to finish her off. 
Anything.  Please.  Just a little more.  But it was too late, her
arousal faded away.  Shit.  Damn.

"You were not given the permission to cum, cunt." He held her
hands, smiling down at her, reveling in her loss.  "When you
masturbate, you will continue without orgasm until you are told
to cum or to stop.  It appears you will need substantial training
in this area.  Present!"

Amy struggled to her feet.  She was flushed and sweaty.  

"Miss Wilson.", the executive said.  "you will continue Miss
Dragert's training in these positions.  Run her through them. 
Mix them up, and make sure she masturbates several times, but
stop short.  She hasn't earned clothes, let alone an orgasm.  I
am going to read."  He picked up a book from the table at his
elbow.

Diane sat up in her chair.  "Present, Missy" Diane liked the
title the cook had used.  Polite, innocent.  Just what she had
been.

Amy scurried to stand before her aunt.  For the next hour, she
moved from one position to the next forward, backwards, all mixed
up.  Worse 4 times she was made to masturbate in front of her
aunt.  It was so humiliating, but she had little time to think
about it.  It did make her arousal higher, though.  But that made
it harder to avoid an orgasm.  Her mind was consumed with her
need to cum now.

"Enough", he was standing over her, watching as she masturbated
again.  Once she calmed some he ordered, "Present"

She struggled to her feet and stood hands behind her, legs open.
Her wet sex on display.  He made her stand until her breathing
slowed and the sweat dried from her body.  Still she stood. 
Finally, he spoke.

"It's time you earned your keep.  These books get dusty.  You
will take the duster and cloth on the corner table, and start
with the section behind the door.  Start at the top.  Take down
each book and dust and stack them neatly.  Dust the shelf.  Then
return the books to the shelf.  Make sure they are returned in
the correct order.  When you finish the first section, you will
move to the next, working around the room."  He pushed a button
on the table.  The wall lit up, the shadows disappearing.       

There was a ladder that rolled on a rail fixed above the top of
the shelves.  She would have to climb it, to reach the top two
shelves.  And she knew she wouldn't be allowed to sit, even on
the floor.  So she would display her ass, and probably more,
repeatedly.  

She dusted for a long time.  Reaching up to pluck a book.  Then
dust it carefully.  Bending to stack it on the floor.  Then the
next one.  Again. And again.  She finished the first section, and
started on the next.  God this was boring.  

"Miss Amy", she heard his voice call.   She walked across the
room, to present herself.  

"Miss Amy, it is nearly 11:30.  You will report to the kitchen at
6:00 am, 11:30 am, and 6:30 pm, as meals are at 6:15, 12:00 n,
and 7:00 pm.  You will not be prompted from here on.  Your
presence is expected.  There are clocks in every room, so you
will have no excuse.  Now, finish up that shelf, then report to
the kitchen."  Amy hurried off to do his bidding.

Lunch was a repeat of breakfast.  She had the advantage of having
draped clean linen this morning.  She cleared two of the places,
after checking with cook that no other guests were expected.  She
was half done already.  She checked the things cook was
preparing, then added salad forks and fruit plates to the table.
She had everything done by 11:50, so she asked cook if there was
anything she could do to help.  Cook set her about preparing the
salad.  

'Tear the lettuce, don't cut it.  Add some romaine, and slivers
of red cabbage.  Then julienne carrots, thin slices of radish,
and fine crescents of onion.  Add cherry tomatoes on the top
after tossing and putting in the serving dish.'  The cook coached
her thru the steps of a nice looking salad.  As nice as the one
she had in that restaurant on the beach, the expensive one.   

Amy served the meal.  Coffee wasn't first at lunch or dinner
either, so she had set water glasses and filled them when the
diners were seated.  She served her salad, held the bowl just
below her bare breasts, as they dipped the forks and levered the
vegetables onto plates.  A lazy-susan had dressing, and there was
fresh baked bread.  The aroma made her hungry.  After the salads,
she served a delicious looking stir-fry.  By the time they
finished, and she cleared the table, she was starved.  Cook had
their plates set in the alcove again.

As they ate, cook asked her about her self.  Where she was born,
about her parents, schooling?  Amy asked about cook, where she
was born, NY, family, only child, and how she got to work for Mr.
Young.  Here she got no answer, so cook noted she had better see
what Mr. Young had for her to do.  She would probably find them
on the terrace.  

Amy stopped halfway out of her chair.  She had come to grips with
her nudity.  Not comfortable, but she was handling it.  But now,
she would have to go outside, naked.  Shit.  The humiliation was
back again.  

She slowly, walked through the dining room.  She found a doorway
to the terrace between it and the study.  She hesitated, took a
deep breath, and opened the door.  The sun shine was warm on her
body, but it was just a bit cool to be naked.  Her nipples
hardened, goose bumps sprouted on her skin.  She found them on
the edge of the terrace, facing the lawn beside the pool.  She
had to walk onto the grass, to stand before them.  She assumed
her position.  She saw her aunt had changed.  She wore a sheer
white silk blouse, it was unbuttoned to the waist, and you could
see large curves of her breasts.  Her skirt was full, and.....
She had it pulled up behind her.  Just like Amy was ordered to
do.

"Ah Miss Amy.", the well dressed man said.  You could slice bread
with the crease of his trousers,  and the white dress shirt was
surly starched heavily.  

"You look cold dear", he seemed to observe.  "Perhaps some
exercise will warm you up.  Why don't you start with some
loosening up exercises?   Do 25 trunk twists.  Put your hands on
your head.  Keep your hips square, and turn your upper body 90o
to the left, then back to center, then right 90o, then center. 
Use a 4 count cadence, and repeat 25 times.  Ready.  Begin."

Ok a little exercise would warm her up.  She put her hands on her
head and began.

"One, two three four."  Once she got the rhythm, her mind
wandered.  She took in the view.  Pool, Terrace, lawn, house.  
Water slide, Window, shed. Billiards table.  Driveway, upstairs
window, Flower garden, black bars.  What! Stop. No go. Pool, CEO,
lawn, his eyes.  Pool, grass, lawn, grass.  Bars,  why were there
bars on that window.  Keep going.  Bars.  Prison?  What?  Thank
heavens she could do the reps automatically.  His eyes were
watching her closely.  Her body kept moving, mindlessly.  His
eyes were following, focused.  Body moving........shit.  She was
snapping crisply from front to side and back.  Shit.  Her tits
were bouncing around like balls.  Moving farther than her chest,
the bouncing back to try and find their place.  Boing, bounce,
jiggle bounce. Boing, bounce jiggle bounce.  How embarrassing. 
She finished the count.  Her face was flushed from more that
exertion.

"Not bad Miss Amy", the executive said.  "Now for some cross over
toe touches.  Arms straight out the side, bend forward and reach
your left hand to right toes.  The back up and spread.  Then
right hand to left toe.  Again count aloud.  25 reps.... Begin"

Amy moved her arms out.  One...Two..........  Bricks, boss,
grass, his eyes.  Bricks, his stare, grass, eyes.  He was
watching again.  She could feel her tits jiggle, and his eyes
were on them.  Or was he watching her sex.  Her lips were
opening, from her stance, the friction of movement, her arousal.
How could she be aroused?  This was humiliating, being made to
exercise naked for his enjoyment.  Damn it.
ON she went, finishing the reps.  She returned her hands behind
her, breathing a little harder.

"Jumping jacks next", the businessman said.  "Arms at sides, feet
together, then jump and swing arms to straight above head, and
legs apart.  A solid 90O angle to the legs.  Then jump back, and
bring everything back together.  Four count cadence still, or two
jacks per count.  Ready..... Begin"

Amy knew that this was just what the dirty old man wanted.  She
started the exercise.  Spreading her legs wide.  Her were tits
bouncing around violently.  Even her pussy lips jarring down and
open, as she jumped.  She tried to stare back at the
administrator.  But she couldn't hold it.  His gaze was to
humiliating.  She dropped her eyes.  She tried to concentrate on
the movements, but the increase movement of her breasts, and the
way her lips banged together, and the humiliation of being a live
porn show, increased her arousal.  As her arousal increased so
did her humiliation elevated higher.  Which increase her arousal?
 The cycle continued.  Her breathing increased, and not just from
her exertion.

He saw her eye drop.  Saw the humiliation, and arousal.  Her
sweating body radiated sex.  He had her just where he wanted her.
 She finished the last jack.  He let her rest for a full minute.

"Now for some squats.  Hands on head fingers locked.  Feet apart.
 Squat down all the way, ass 6 inches from the ground.  Stay
there for a four count, and then rise for a four count.  25 reps
again.  Hands on head..... Ready.........  Begin."

Down she went.  Shit.  She wasn't near close enough to the
ground.  Lower.  Still lower.  This hurts.  My knees don't bend
this far.  Shit.  She was wide open.  Her cunt was spread like a
newspaper.  Damn.  He found more ways to expose and humiliate
her.  Back up.  Count.  Down.  Push to get low enough.  Opened,
she could feel cool air enter her pussy.  Her cunt was the focus
of the sight. Gaud, this was humiliating.  Up.  Down.  He would
be able to see into her.

There were tears of shame in her eye now, but something else too.
 A drowsy, sultry look, that didn't fix with exercise, at least
not this kind of exercise.  He watched her, her cunt spreading as
she reached the bottom of the squat.  Her opening was not black,
but reddish, her hymen not quite visible, but just out of sight.
Yes, he would enjoy taking her virginity, but he doubted she
would.  She finished the exercise.  She was panting heavily.  The
very deep bends, took a lot of work.  He gave her a couple of
minutes to slow.  

"Let's finish with some running.  I want you to run to the shed
to your right.  Circle it, then return here and run in place for
20 counts of 4.  Then make another trip around the shed etc... 
10 circuits.  You must complete the 10 circuits within 15
minutes.  If you do you will earn an article of clothing.  If you
do not, you will receive an additional 30 stokes to you
punishment.  Do you see the shed?  

Amy looked.  It was over a 100 yards to the shed.  With 20 sec
stuck running on display, she could take little more than 1
minute to circle the shed and return.  Very little more.  She
nodded her head, slowly.

"Okay," said the reclining man.  Taking a large clock from the
table, he reset it to 11:59.  As the second hand came past the 10
he said.  "Go!"

Amy turned and ran.  There was a slight rise between the house
and the shed, maybe 3 feet. Then down to the shed which was just
a little lower than the house.  As she climbed the rise she could
see more of the shed, and then the fence just beyond.  Then  of
the way to the shed she noticed.  The road ran along that side of
the property.  The fence was only about 3 feet tall.  You could
easily see the cars over it.  There were shrubs, and a few trees,
but not enough.  She would be able to be seen from the time she
crested the hill, till she once again rose behind the shed. 
That's it.  If she moved left, the bigger gaps in the foliage
would be shielded by the shed.  She angled over.  But she would
still be visible when she rounded the shed, almost point blank in
front of the barest part of the fence.  

She listened.  She couldn't hear a car.  Okay, she rounded the
corner of the shed and circled it. Shit, there was a man behind
the flower garden, turning compost.  He hadn't seen her yet, his
back to her.  She turned for the house.  Up to the terrace, and
back to her spot.  Shit.  He was watching.  She realized her tits
were flopping like fish out of water.  Up down around.  Damn it.
He probably loved it.  Only 45 seconds.  She could do this.  1, 2
3 4.   2, 2, 3, 4.  3, 2....  His eyes were following her tits,
checking out her pubes.  

Off on the next lap.  Using the shed for cover.  Listening, no
cars.  The gardener still digging away.   Ha, she had this
figured now.  Around the shed, and back to her spot.  What was he
doing?  Oh yes, eating in the shell peanuts.  Oh crap.  He's
throwing the shells into the grass.  Right where she had been
standing.  Okay, she moved back a bit.  He shook his head.  She
moved forward.  'Ooooo'  The shells were sharp on her tender
feet.  1, 2, 3, 4.  2, 2, 3, "ahh", 4.  She slipped forward
farther, away form the shells.  He was saving more, a small pile
in the napkin on his lap.  ...3, 4.  20, 2, 3, 4.  Off again.

Another lap, she was back by the terrace.  There were a lot more
shells.  Spread widely over the grass.  There was only a narrow
strip at the very edge of the terrace that was clean grass.  She
moved to that.  He had a great view now.  1, 2, 3...    Off
again.  No cars, gardener busy.  Great maybe she could finish
without being seen.  Well except for him.  Back before him.  More
shells around, but the strip still clear.  Her body was slick
with sweat now.  Her boobs dancing on her chest.  Time.  Good. 
Four minutes and 35 seconds.  She could make this easily.  She
wanted those clothes.  Count done, go!

She approached the shed, listening.  Shit a car.  She could her
the motor and tires whining on the pavement.  She slowed her
pace, angling a bit to get the best coverage by the shed.  She
had to slow further, waiting, hoping she wouldn't have to stop. 
Was the sound receding, she was almost to the shed.  Yes, yes it
was.  Great, out around the shed she ran.  Yes, she could see
flashes of the car thru the thicker foliage down the way, it was
past, couldn't see her.  She ran on.  Clear on this side, up
toward the house.  The strip of clear grass, running, counting,
flopping.  God, she hated this.  Off again.  Two more laps
without problems, but she was tiring.  She knew they weren't as
fast as the earlier ones.  Still she had almost half the time
yet.

She approached the shed on lap 8, no sound, but when she glanced
over the garden she saw the gardener put the shovel into his
wheelbarrow.  Not a good sign.  She started around the shed
watching him.  "OHH!", 'Shit. Shit'.  She'd slipped, crashing to
the soft earth.  She wasn't hurt but the air was forced from her
lungs noisily.  She scrabbled to her feet.  She couldn't waste
time.  She needed those clothes.
She came around the shed.  Damn, she knew it.  The gardener was
looking around, obviously curious about the commotion.  He caught
the movement and focused on it.  In her mind she saw his eyes
expand to grapefruit size, popping out feet in front of him to
view her better.  She really did see his jaw drop.  She steeled
herself, and plunged on.  But she could feel her cheeks and chest
burn with the increase blood flow.  

She was back to the terrace.  Now there were shells on the last
of the grass.  Not many, but a few.  She ran in place, 1, 2, 3,
4.  She didn't realize it but her count was slowing too.  Tired,
she thought, so tired.  
'Ouch', a shell.  She finished her count, and headed off again.

She looked for the gardener.  He was spreading something on the
compost pile,   Lime she guessed.  But he was behind it now,
facing her way.  Her movement caught his eye.  He stopped and
watched her.  She felt so exposed.  So vulnerable.  So naughty. 
Yet her cunt throbbed.  Running was hard work now.  She was
blowing hard, sucking in fresh air.  She watched her step this
time.  She wasn't going to slip again.  She rounded the shed. 
"Fuck!", she said aloud.  There was a vehicle right in the opened
spot, an SUV.   The back seat held two young boys.  And they were
both looking her way.  She saw their jaws drop and their eyes
enlarge as they focused on the naked female only 20 feet from
them.  Amy dove to the ground.  Shit.  She could see their heads
turn to keep her in view.  If the adults saw her, there was sure
to be trouble.  How had she forgotten to listen for traffic.  She
listened now, pressed to the earth.  The whine of the SUV tires
was diminishing slightly, but she could hear a deeper whine
approaching, a truck, not far behind the SUV.  She had to stay
put.  The truck passed quickly, but its heavy whine made her wait
to be sure there were no others masked by the noise.  

She threw herself to her feet.  She lost a lot of time.  She dug
in, running for all she was worth.  She had to win that clothing.
 She raced back to the terrace.  Damn.  More shells, everywhere,
but especially on the area she had been using.  She couldn't run
on those.  There just wasn't any bare grass,  least not with the
range she knew he'd demand.   Wait the terrace.  It was stone
slabs.  Rough sure, but there were no shells on it.  She moved
carefully up to it.  She still stepped on shells twice.  It hurt.
 Why had she done this?  She was practically in his lap.  She
started her count, eyes on the roof so she wouldn't have to meet
his gaze.  1,2,3,4.  2,2,3,4....  Something brushed her foot, it
flew away from her movement.  A bug or something she imagined. 
....3, 4. 4, 2....  Something else, light, but banging into her
ankle.  She looked down.
   
He was throwing more shells at her feet, as she ran!  Shit!  Keep
going.  7, 2, 3, 4....   'eeee', she stepped on one.  ....3, 4. 
13, 2,..... She tried to tread more lightly.  ...4.  16, 2,
'damn', another, 3, 4.  Her feet were starting to hurt.  ....19,
2, 3, 4.  He threw a large shell right under her foot.  His
timing and aim were nearly perfect.  "OWWWW!"  Just where the big
toe meets the ball of the foot.  Sharp, deep, it cut her.  The
next step was agony.  The next was 20.  She stopped and lifted
the foot.             

She was bleeding, a lot.  She looked at him.  His eyebrow rose,
questioning, challenging.  Her eye flashed to the clock.  Almost
14 minutes were up, the second hand on the 8.  She ran for all
she was worth.  Her foot hurt.  But she had to win.  Tears filled
her eyes.  She ran.  Tears of pain this time.  How it burned. 
Hurry, must make it.  She tried to skip every other step with her
wound foot.  Kind of a hopping, skipping run.  But it was slowing
her down.  She rounded the shed.  Shit.  The gardener was right
there in front of her.  He stopped, lowered the wheelbarrow, and
starred at her.  She flinched, but she had to keep going. 
Hop/skip/running, she hurried on.  She could feel his eye on her
bruised ass.  Oh bother, keep going.  

She knew she couldn't make it running like this.  She broke back
into a full run.  The tears started flowing down her cheeks.  It
hurt so much, and she was so exhausted.  She started whimpering.
By the time she got to the house she was almost sobbing.  She
stopped on the terrace.  She saw with delight that the shells had
been sweep or blow against the edge of the grass.  She started
running in place.  1, 2, 3, 4..... She saw it.  The second hand
was past the 9.  She would be able to finish her count before it
reached 12.  She had lost.   The tears poured from the exhausted
girl.  Her shoulders shook with sobbing.  But she finished the
count.  19, 2, 3, 4.  20, 2,..3,......4.  She stopped, dropping
to her knees, her sobs loose now, shaking her. 

He watched the despairing child for many minutes, smiling in his
pleasure at her expense.   He knew he had pushed her to the wall,
and she had not given up.  He would give her the first reward,
such as it was.  But she HAD failed.  His interference was not
excuse.  So he would punish her too.

It was almost ten minutes before she calmed down, and lifted her
face.  He handed her some tissues, and she blow her nose and
dabbed her eyes dry.  

Then he addressed her.  "My dear, you were several seconds past
the deadline.  It appears that the 30 addition strokes will be
added to your punishment."  

Tears returned to Amy eyes.  She dabbed them again.

"However, you were very close, and had some, shall we say
interference".  So I will reward you with the articles of
clothing.  He reached under his chair, and lifted the box there.
Before he handed it across, he added, and your perseverance, and
completion despite pain, and knowledge of failure, have earned
you another.  Though that one will not be much either, and you
won't receive it till tomorrow.  He gave Amy the box.

Amy practically threw the lid aside as she opened the box.  Her
face fell.  Shoes.  She had gone thru all of this for a pair of
white high heeled shoes.  She hated him.  It was all he planned
to give her from the beginning, the son of a bitch.

"Well, put them on, dear.  Oh, wait.  Here, set down in my seat.
We should clean up that cut first."   He rose, sweeping his hand
in an offer for her to sit.  She sat the box in her lap.  He
disappeared into the house and quickly returned with peroxide a
damp cloth and bandages.  He lifted her foot and gently wiped
away the blood and dirt.  The cut wasn't as bad as it seemed,
less that a half inch long, and not that deep.  He held the cloth
under her foot, and poured the peroxide over the wound.  He had
twisted her foot to get the bottom upright, and it bent her knee
and spread her leg widely.  She blushed gently.  But she saw he
was more interested in her foot now.  He poured peroxide over her
wound several times, the blotted it with a dry cloth.  Finally,
he applied a bandage, then place her foot on the stones..  It
really wasn't that bad was it. 

"Now you may put on your clothes." he said with a devilish grin.
Bastard, Amy thought.  She picked up one shoe from the box. 
Yeah, right.  The shoe had a very high heel, higher than any she
had ever seen.  (5")   He had to be kidding.  She'd never be able
to walk in these.  She turned them over and over, waiting for the
heels to shrink.  They didn't.  She set the box down on the
stones beside her feet.  She took the shoe, lean forward and
down, and put the shoe over her toes.  Then she pushed her foot
forward and the shoe back, slipping it over her heel.  They were
a little tight, but her toes were especially cramped.  The toe of
the shoe was narrow, pointed.  And her knee had risen up almost
the whole five inches higher than its mate, her calf stretched
tight.  She slowly reached into the box and withdrew the other
shoe.  She worked it on, with the same result.  At least her
knees were the same height now, but it raised her thighs.  They
didn't touch the seat from mid thigh to knee.  All her weight was
transferred back, onto her upper thighs and butt.  She looked up,
and saw a hand extended to her.

"Why don't you see how they fit, walk around some.  Get the feel
of them.  She pushed up.  Shit.  If it weren't for his hand, she
would topple over.  Her toes and calves screamed.  She shifted
her feet, trying to get a better base.  She tried a step, then
another.  The hand withdrew.  She walked to the edge of the
terrace, slowly turned and walked back.  Enough of that.

"There, you can do it.", he said.  "Walk around for a few minutes
to get used to them before you have to negotiate stairs and such.
 After all they're the only clothes you have.  You'll want to
wear them everywhere."

You mean she couldn't take them off.  She really needed the next
half size.  Wider too.  You mean I'm stuck with these.  This was
it too.  She could tell by his voice that there wouldn't be more
soon.  She forced herself to parade around the terrace, for
several minutes.  
 
"You must be tired after your exercise.", said the executive.  He
reached up and brushed her mated hair out of her eyes, "You need
a shower too.  I'll take you to your room. There you can shower
and rest for a hour or so."  He led her back into the house, the
up stairs to the room she had awakened in.  She looked.  There
were bars on the windows.  "The bath is thru here", he said
opening the door to a lavatory.  "You should find everything you
need."   He turned at the door as he left.  "Your punishment will
be given at 4:30 pm.  Someone will be up for you then."   Then he
exited and locked her in.