Sympathetically

"Chloe," the suave gentleman man calls, gesturing expansively, "come in and sit down, we've only just started. You look like you've been in the wars! Dave, get some cream from the first aid cabinet and help her out. Now, who are these people and why don't they have visitor badges?"

"I'm sorry, Evelyn," Chloe answers, underwear once more in her hand, as a young man, barely older than her, gets up and dashes out. "I bumped into Jenna here on my way back—literally—and Francesca spanked me for it. They wanted to come and make sure I didn't find any more trouble getting here. I got the information we were looking for, by the way."

Evelyn raises one bushy eyebrow. "I never doubted you. Is it a coincidence that Jenna looks as though she's been thrashed, too?"

"There was some fault on both sides," you answer, hoping you're not going to get into any more trouble now.

"But Chloe was clearly more at fault," Francesca states firmly. "And then she wet herself, so she had to take off the rest of her clothes as well."

"I do apologise for that. It's not what we expect from out junior research journalists."

You mentally reassess your opinion of young miss Johnson; achieving such a position at her tender age is very impressive. Blushing at having her personal business bandied about so casually, she glances round, looking for an empty chair near the back, where she won't be in full view of all her colleagues, but they're all occupied, so she's **** to walk stiffly down to the front and slide into a seat, pretending not to notice the curious stares of her co-workers. At the same time, the youth returns with a small box in one hand.

"Thank-you for seeing Chloe safely back," Evelyn continues. "Dave will see you out after he's finished here—unless you'd like something for your bruises as well, while you're here?"

You're about to respond, when you hear Chloe squeal and look over to see what's happening.

"It's okay Dave, I can manage!"

"No, no, I'll do it." Dave has squirted some pale yellow cream into the palm of his hand and is massaging it thoroughly into the blonde's delightful and heavily strapped bust. He's not being gentle, digging his fingers right into the sore flesh and kneading it between his palms or twisting her nipples mercilessly. You notice that Chloe's hands are clenched into fists by her sides as she tries to endure this rough treatment without embarrassing herself further.

You smile hurriedly at Evelyn and reply: "Thank-you for the offer, sir, but I already have someone to take care of that at home."

He nods and calls over to Dave to hurry up, as he's needed to escort the guests to the foyer, but Francesca hastens to say that she's in no rush. For his part, the young man is enjoying his task too much to end it quickly. You wonder what it is with Daves today and the absurd image comes into your mind of a hypothetical previous owner of the Rulebook putting pencil to paper to write:

Old Rule: All large companies employ at least one annoying intern called Dave.

The thought makes you smile a little. A frivolous prior rule-maker is a seductive explanation for some of the stranger facts of life, but you know that the Rulebook was empty when you found it, apart from the instructions on the first page, so it turns out that the world is just an odd place sometimes.

Your reverie is broken when this Dave asks Chloe to stand and turn around, so that he can clean her up with a baby wipe. The fact that this means she's facing the rest of the staff (and you) is incidental to his need to access her intimate parts to remove any lingering traces of pee.

"Put one leg on the chair, please."

If she was blushing before, she seems completely mortified now, exposing everything to her colleagues perhaps even more completely than you had to do this afternoon. Your eyes meet while her inner folds are being meticulously sponged and stimulated and you hope that she sees sympathy rather than superiority in your gaze.

All the work of the journalists has momentarily come to a halt, even the bosses taking the time to watch the teenager's humiliation. A grinning Dave shows no sign of stopping and Chloe is starting to breathe more rapidly, her hips trembling as arousal is **** into her loins against her will. You're sure that she'd love to tell the little shit to leave her alone, but doesn't want to seem ungrateful, especially when the possibility of a spanking for being late is still on the cards.