Ria Gets A Public Spanking

In the back of his Rolls Royce Phantom, Clarke stared at the forlorn Ria with a grin. “So, how did you find your little walk through the office?”

“Humiliating.”

“Good.”

Ria sighed, it was only the first day of her month-long agreement and she was already hating every minute. Still, she felt determined to win her life changing £200,000. She had already decided to take the offer of a lump sum rather than a place on the board. It might have once been her dream job but after recent events it would be nothing but a nightmare. A constant reminder of what she has been through… and what she is about to experience. “I loathe to think what my next mission might be.”

“Don’t worry. Just waiting tables at a fundraising event for the homelessness.”

“Waiting tables for a good cause? Sounds overly normal. Guess the catch is that I’ll be wearing something inappropriate. Tarted up like a Hooters girl, or something worse?”

“You’re getting warmer.”

“But don’t you think waiting on tables is a little bit below me? I mean, surely a woman of my skills should be deployed in a management position where I’d be far more useful. I'd streamline the whole event for you and make sure it raises a ton of money.”

“Ria. You seem to be struggling with the concept of our little deal. Since signing the contract nothing is below you. You’re going to do what I say when I say. No matter how menial or humiliating it is.”

Ria lifted her arms as a sign of exasperation. "Fine. Whatever.” She threw herself back into the plush leather seat. “I’ll just wait tables then.” She folded her arms and looked out of the window at the passing street scene. “Your loss.”

“Fantastic, the sound of a petulant schoolgirl. I can see you’re already getting yourself into the role.“

“What?”

Clarke lifted a plastic bag from the footwell then dropped it on Ria's lap. "Now, put on this uniform. All the girls are going to be wearing it.”

Ria looked into the plastic bag. She saw a tiny pleated skirt. a white cotton blouse with a tie… and a pair of white cotton socks. “A school uniform?”

“Yes.”

“Bit perverted.”

“Yes. But what happens in the Old Boys Club... stays in Old Boys Club.”

Ria pretended to wretch. “Makes me want to be sick.”

“All you have to remember is, it’s all for a good cause.”

“The male, natures greatest birth defect.”

“It probably is, but it’s fucking fun being one.”

Clarke made Ria change in the back of the car as it weaved through the spider web of London streets. Ria thought it pointless protesting, so did it as quickly as she could, hoping the car was moving too fast for passersby to notice. Clarke helped Ria out of her dress as she struggled in the confines of the cab, then leaned back to admire her semi naked figure. His smile spoke of his admiration as Ria arched her back to lift her butt off the seat so she could pull the skirt over pert bottom.

He couldnt help but smile.

Once Ria was changed, Clarke’s eyes gorged on her sexy schoolgirl outfit, the micro skirt, the white blouse. She even had white cotton socks with black buckle shoes, leading Ria to ask, “How did you know my size?”

“Let’s just say I take my perversions seriously.”

The car slowed outside a grand building full of decorative architecture of the neo-gothic kind. Gargoyles and angels sat on plinths and pillars in equal measure. The driver indicated left before driving the car through a small gated entrance to an alleyway down the side of the building

The Old Boys Club in central London is an exclusive invitation-only club with a history dating back to the late Middle Ages. It’s members over the years have included numerous Kings, politicians and war-winning generals. Rebuilt several times over centuries, the current club was built in the 1700s in the grandest of Georgian design with wide sweeping staircases and large well-lit rooms. The club’s legendary smoking room has borne witness to many historic dealings where the fates of entire nations have been decided within its walls. Several generations of Carlisles have enjoyed the benefits of the club, none more so than Clarke.

Once inside the great lobby, Clarke put Ria into the care of the head waitress, a frighteningly stern looking woman, before heading into the Empire Hall to meet his guests.

The head waitress led Ria into the staff changing room where she met the other girls. There were about twenty of them, all likey cash strapped students… all ethnics. Most were South Asians similar to Ria but there were also several black girls and a few Chinese. The head waitress barked, “Listen up girls, you’ve read the rules and signed the contract. Just have fun but treat your guests seriously.”

Ria hadn’t read the contract… then again she was under the terms of her own. Still, she was about to raise her hand when the head added, “Do not annoy or disrespect today’s guests, as they’re amongst the most influential people in the country.” The stern looking woman continued. “ Some may be a little over-friendly with you, they may get a bit tactile. If you feel uncomfortable, just politely remove yourself from the situation.” She then raised her voice while wagging her white gloved finger. “ But do not disrespect the guest. It will do you good to remember our motto, Guest is God. Repeat after me… Guest is God.”

The girls did as they were told.

“Good. This afternoon is about raising money for charity, I’m sure you can all put away your inhibitions for a few hours.” The head clapped her hands together. “ Right, let’s assign you all to a table.” She pointed to Ria. “You, the pretty Indian.” Ria didn’t acknowledge as there were at least seven Indians in the room. “Ria Morphy.”

“I’m not Indian… I am Sri Lankan.” Ria saw the disinterest on the woman’s face. “Never mind.”

“You’re working at table twelve.”

Ria nodded. “Twelve. Got it.”

Ria hadn’t had time to revise the table plan, the menu nor the afternoon’s program. She had no idea what to do or where to be other than she was assigned to table twelve. She just had to wing it.

With the other ethnic ‘schoolgirls’ she walked into the Empire Hall to take the guest’s orders. They were all wearing the same overtly sexy schoolgirl outfit. The knee-high socks, the skirt just long enough to cover the curves of their butt cheeks.

The guests were already seated at their tables, and the Empire Hall was alive with chatter. Ria scanned the room and thought there must have been twenty tables of six. She then looked around the room at the huge paintings of former prime ministers, royalty and colonial rulers of the past. High above, six giant crystal chandeliers hung from the painted ceiling.

As Ria expected all the guests were men, mostly white, grey-haired and overweight. Although there were a couple of Arabs, some dressed in suits while the others were in traditional robes. She also noticed the tables were numbered using little signs in the centre, the numbers made using naked women.

Ria felt the men ogling her body, causing her to tug at the hem of her skirt in the hope of showing none of her arse. Yet she kept walking until she found table twelve… Clarke’s table. Wearing a fake smile Ria asked, “Can I take your orders?”

A fat man with a bad complexion and a combover was sitting to Clarke’s right. The fat man leered at Ria then elbowed Clarke. “I take it this is the delightful young Ria you told me about.”

“Yes. That’s her.”

“She is a fine young specimen. How old?”

“Early thirties.”

“You wouldn’t think so. Really you wouldn’t.” Lloyd seemed genuinely surprised. “Wearing the uniform, she reminds me of my maid’s young daughter. And reminds me how I would love to ravish her.”

“Be careful what you say, Lloyds, the Police Commissioner is in attendance.”

“I know better than to shit on my own doorstep.” Lloyd opened the menu. “That’s why I go to Thailand to indulge.”

The table roared into an odd mix of chastisement and laughter towards Lloyd . Once the laughter receded he asked Ria. “What do you recommend, Ria?”

“Erm…”

Clarke prodded Lloyd’s rounded shoulder. “What are you asking Ria for, you don’t like spicy food.”

“I guess we’ll find out just how cultured she is.” Lloyd tapped the menu and gestured to Ria to help him.” Come and point something out for me.”

Ria hadn’t revised the menu. She stepped over to Lloyd ’s side and leaned over to read the menu. “I heard the fish is good.”

“Salmon or Bass?”

“Err.....”

Lloyd leaned backwards to admire Ria’s long elegant body. He then brushed his hand up her leg, started below the knee then gently rising up her thigh. He felt her tense to his touch. “Are you not familiar with the menu?”

“No. I...” Ria froze as she felt Lloyd’s hand cup her left arse cheek. “ I just started work today.”

“Are we available for some fun after lunch?”

Ria glanced at Clarke for direction but he gave none. “If you mean a dance, Sir. Yes. But I have a husband.”

Lloyd removed his hand from under Ria’s skirt. But only to fish out his wallet from his trousers before counting several banknotes. “Come a little closer. You drive a hard bargain, wench.” As Ria leaned closer Lloyd pulled at Ria’s blouse, popping the top button. “Whoops, sorry.” He then slipped the banknotes into her bra cup. “There, that’s for your husband.”

Ria smiled awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Lloyd slid his hand under Ria’s skirt once more. But this time groping her cunt and feeling her warmth, loving the fact he could feel her shudder to his touch. “The pleasure will be all mine, later.”

Clarke butted in. “Lloyd, we’re all dying of thirst, let her do her job.”

“Sorry.”

Ria broke free of Lloyd ’s hand. “Can I take all your orders?”

“I don’t know about you, but I suddenly want an Indian.”

Clarke agreed. “Yes, me too. But none of the vegetarian shite.”

A third man from the table eyed Ria in her uniform, and added, “We all love curry munchers here.”

Ria’s voice faltered. “There is no Indian cuisine on the menu, I’m afraid. “

Clarke decided to just drink, and snapped and closed the menu. “Fuck it, lads.”

“The girl or menu Clarke?”

“Probably both.” Once the boisterous laughter faded Ria began to jot down the orders as they came in. The men kept changing their minds and Ria began to make a mess on the page of her notebook. She recited the order in front of them to agree, but half of the table looked disinterested and were chatting amongst themselves.

Ria lost patience and headed back to inform the kitchen and bar of the order. She knew she had made mistakes but hoped, rather in vain, that there wouldn’t be too heavy a price to be paid.

But as she returned with a tray ladened with drinks. Each step felt perilously, and her arms were begging to ache.

But Ria’s table was not impressed.

Ria served Lloyd first, placing a glass of beer down in front of him. He looked down at his pint glass. “What is this?”

“Stella Artois.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. I asked for a pilsner.”

Clarke sighed. “I concur, she has fucked up. Sorry gentleman, Ria is proving a disappointment.”

“Don’t be too harsh, Clarke. English is her second tongue.”

“Give me your notepad. I’ll fucking write it down for you.” As Ria tried to balance the tray with one hand to slip the pad out of her pocket with the other, the try slipped and sent the glasses smashing on the table, flooding it with beer and wine.

All the men jumped to their feet to avoid a golden wave.

Everyone, including the other waitresses, stopped and stared. Ria felt alone but at the same time as if the room and everyone in it was watching her.

Clarke barked, “Look what you’ve done, you clumsy clot.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Lloyd dabbed down the crotch of his slacks with a napkin. “I look like I’ve pissed myself.”

“Here, let me do that.”

“No. You’ve done quite enough. You have made a show of me, of us, all tonight.”

Clarke took a seat and watched as Ria and several other waitresses began to mop and tidy. “I don’t know how you do it, Ria. But it always comes down to you.”

“I’ve never waitressed before.”

“And you thought it would be easy.”

Ria felt the day was going from bad to worse. “I’m, I’m sorry.”

The head waiter ghosted over, not making a sound as she inspected Ria’s mess. But she then gave her apologies. “I’m awfully sorry, gentleman. We will clean this mess right away. In the meantime, Mr. Carlisle, what would you like us to do with the Indian? Obviously, she’s going to lose her job, but should there be further action?”

“I will deal, Margot. Leave her to me.”

“As you wish.” The head waiter glanced at Ria. “Do exactly as he says.” She then left to supervise the other girls in the clean up.

Lloyd watched Ria desperately clean the table. He nudged Clarke with his elbow. “What are you going to do about this disaster of a woman? First, she doesn’t bother learning the menu. Next, she messes up the order only to then spill the drinks all over us. I thought these Indian women were meant to make expert servants?”

“I think she’s more of the slumdog whore type, who somehow managed to sneak her way into the country.”

“Bet she was trafficked for sex.” Lloyd continued to observe Ria who was now buffing the table with a dry cloth. “Pedigree or slumdog, all dogs have a master.”

Clarke whistled, “Ria.”

“Yes?”

“Come with me.” Clarke climbed from his chair, then lifted it, talking the chair with him as she walked over to a raised platform where the auctioneer was due to start proceedings. He placed his chair in front of the lectern then sat on it. He noticed he had the attention of the whole room as he gestured to Ria who had stayed put at the crime scene. “Come.”

Clarke watched a hesitant Ria look around for support from the other waitresses. However, the other girls were now finishing off the cleanup so they could quickly distance themselves. Ria felt she had **** but to walk up to the platform and climb upon the stage.

Clarke patted his lap. “Bend over.”

As Ria slowly lowered herself onto Clarke’s lap the lights of the room suddenly dimmed and the stage was lit by a single spot lamp. The two were now the focus of the room.

Ria felt as though it was a public execution.

Clarke weighed Ria on his lap. He spoke to the crowd. “There’s nothing to her, just like a child.” He then lifted her skirt, showing her dark blue laced panties from before. “Look at this succulent sweet peach.” Wearing a huge smile Clarke then pulled the panties down to show Ria’s plump brown bottom cheeks, noting the faintest of tiger marks.

Being upside-down Ria obviously felt uncomfortable to the point of feeling sickly. She was worried about the impending slaps but it was the public exposure that worried her most.

Clarke jiggled her cheeks with his hands, watching the ripples of brown flesh. He then raised his hand to which the crowd began to gasp in anticipation.

His hand came down like a blacksmith’s hammer. The crack reverberated around the room quickly followed by Ria’s blood curdling scream. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The cheers drowned Ria out.

Another slap.

Ria kicked out, trying to wiggle her way free. But Clarke kept her in place with one heavy arm. The second arm came back down for another fierce strike.

“Please, sir. Stop. I beg you.”

“No.” Clarke’s bottom slaps were sharp and venomous, it was as if hatred flowed in his veins. "You brought this upon yourself. If only your forefathers knew that you were wasting the chances they worked so hard to give you. The shame of it.”

The crowd roared to Ria’s cries of humiliation.

Clarke spanked her again, and again. He finally asked “Want me to stop?”

Ria’s eyes were welling with tears as she struggled to catch her breath. She nodded. “Yes.”

“Want to go home to your husband?”

“Yes.”

“Then your last task for the night is the following. Clarke looked around the room. “Anyone get a carrot, or a sausage. I need something I can stick up her arse. I think I need to give his slumdog a tail.”

Ria cried out. “Nooo.” But Clarke ignored Ria. “Please.”

Lloyd, the pervert he is, brought a candlestick. But at least he had gone to the trouble of lubing the bottom of the candle with a knob of butter. Clarke grinned. “I like your style, Lloyd. Ever the gentleman.”

“Thank you. I’ve always been a ladies man.”

Men gathered around the stage wanting a closer look. Clarke parted Ria’s brown fleshy cheeks, exposing her tight anus to the crowd. “Slip it in slowly, Lloyd. We want to humiliate Ria rather than cause her a mischief.”

“I’ll try not to get too excited.”

Clarke felt Ria tense and groan as Lloyd burrowed the candle between her butt cheeks. He gently applied just enough pressure for the stick to begin to sink.

Ria whimpered. “God that hurts.” Her eyes then widened as she felt her sphincter stretch to accommodate it.

“Does it burn?”

“Yes.”

“Then just wait until I light it.”

“No!”

Clarke sniggered. “I’m only joking.” The candle was only small, about ten inches inches, and Clarke asked Lloyd to stop when only six inches were on show. He then ordered Ria. “Now stand.”

Ria finally climbed off Clarke’s lap. She felt dizzy and took a few seconds to find her feet. Clark leaned down then pulled Ria’s panties up to her knees “Leave them around your knees. We’re going to walk out of the room with you waddling. You need to clench your cheeks too, because if you let the candle drop. You’ll have to stop, and start again. But this time I'll light the bastard..”

Ria waddled to the edge of the stage with her panties around her knees and the candle sticking out of her butt, a ridiculous yet rather splendid sight. But as Ria widened her gait to step off the platform she felt the butter dribbling down her inner thigh and the candle shot out like a torpedo. Ria spun around to pick up the candle, but her panties were caught in a twist and brought her down on her face. The men in the room were laughing and cheering, throwing verbal bombs.

Clarke sighed… “Has anyone got a lighter?”

~

Ria got home ontime with orders to meet Clarke first thing in the morning at Central Station. She hand cleaned herself of butter and molten wax with a wet cloth in the club’s kitchen. But she still smelt of beer and food. Fortunately, her husband Daniel was running late after getting held up on a job, So Ria threw her clothes in the washing machine then jumped in the shower.

As she lathered her hair with shampoo she wondered why her life was crumbling around. Was she being weak? Or was she being strong? How would she win in this situation? Was it even possible for victory? Should she go to the police. even if it meant bringing shame on to herself and family? Would it be worth it? So many questions. So many worries.

Ria’s had already received her next orders. And the order worried her greatly.

She was going to India.

Remembering the ridicule, Ria picked uo a razor then began shave her pubic hair. "What have I become?"

~

** Wanting a writer to continue The Old Boys Club scene - especially writing about what happened with Ria and the lit candle then whatever happens after. Drop me a message if interested **