The third in three sequential stand alone shorts that began here.
“Ophelia Open,” Ophelia told the maître D. She often wondered why she hadn’t changed her name back to Weizmann, but in her heart maybe she knew.
The man had a thin lacquered black comb-over and calculating brown eyes. He smiled warmly, but not to give anything away. It was his job to assume that everybody who came to his restaurant could be royalty or undesirable and everything in between. He would sit on the fence with this woman until he had placed her.
“You have a reservation?” he asked it as if it were a statement.
Ophelia wasn’t listening. Instead she was gaping at the opulence like a tourist, just stopping short of an open mouth. This was a new place to her, either that or Richard hadn’t brought her here when they were married.
“Miss Open?” the head waiter prompted her.
“Oh sorry, it’s Mrs, well ex-Mrs actually, I assumed…” Ophelia flashed her baby blue eyes in amusement.
“Oh yes,” the man said quickly, up to then he had wondered if Ophelia was a mistress to someone, although the being dark he doubted it as blondes were the vogue this season. “Mrs Open, your husband, pardon me, ex-husband, called to say he would be late. May I show you to your table?”
He didn’t wait but turned with a wave and led her to one of the grander tables at the back of room. Nothing but the best for Richard, she thought mirthlessly.
The seat of the chair was well-padded but that didn’t stop Ophelia feeling the nascent tender ache from last week’s encounter with Wentworth. That had been an embarrassing and avoidable encounter that she only had herself to blame for. Well herself and little sister Sophie, she amended. But that little matter had also been attended to, or so she had heard. Little sis had positively gushed sparkles about her executioner; it seemed that a good spanking had done her the world of good.
Ophelia found herself wondering about Wentworth and his relationship with Patty. Maybe if she hadn’t still been in love with Richard… but no, he wasn’t really her type. A father figure was one thing, but the muscle-bound ex-marine was too serious for her liking and when Daddy spanked… she winced again and adjusted her behind in the chair, Patty could keep him.
She thought about Richard and where it had all gone wrong. The letter in her purse had said he wanted to try again, her heart did an unexpected lurch, but what was the point? Sure she still loved him but… she tried to remember all of the reasons she had left him. At the time she had cited the spankings and long embarrassing corner times. Sometimes he had made her stand there for hours, or so it had seemed, while he made business calls with little in-jokes at her expense. She had been certain that everyone knew she was a spanked wife. But none of that was it, not if she was honest. She even knew about the other women, arm-trophies Richard called them and strictly business. It was distasteful to be sure, but Richard was always upfront about it. Did she believe him when he said he didn’t touch? Before the marriage he had warned her otherwise so why a change?
Hell it was 1960 and the papers were full of the permissive society and she couldn’t expect a man like Richard to be faithful. But part of her had believed him when he had told her he was. Then she had met his secretary, Alice Duvall, she bristled again, as if the memories were fresh. She had suspected the woman from the first and all those business trips…
But it was two events in particular that had turned her heart. Alice Duvall’s sick smiling face on the cover of Newsweek as she hung on Richard’s arm to claim him like, like… and the spanking.
The spanking was worse. Ophelia had burst in on them. Her, bare bottomed over his knee getting the spanking of her life. Until Alice had seen Ophelia looking on, Ophelia could have sworn that she hated it. Richard had insisted it was entirely punitive. But then the women’s eyes had met and Alice had smirked through her tears. Bitch.
Since the divorce Richard and Alice had become an item. The spider bitch had wound him into her little web and Ophelia had cleared out to let her. Damn the woman.
“Hey baby,” Richard said suddenly as he stooped to kiss her.
“Oh, hey,” she returned an uncomfortable smile.
Richard smiled back as he dropped into the seat opposite. His cheeks dimpled and squared off his jaw. He was wearing a sharp suit that angled down from his broad shoulders giving his body a V-shape. The pin-stripe exactly matched the premature grey in his hair just as the charcoal of the rest of his suit’s colour matched his eyes.
“Sorry about being late it was…”
“Business,” she finished for him.
They both laughed, but there was no warmth to it and their chuckles fell flat leaving a moment of awkward silence.
“I wasn’t even sure you would come,” he said evenly. “I mean after that business that Wentworth handled for me…”
Ophelia blushed and looked down demurely.
“I had it coming,” she said with a face, “Besides I guess you were too busy with… what was her name?” bitch-Alice, she thought bitterly. “Anyway I didn’t expect the personal touch. After all it was just business wasn’t it?”
He winced and sucked his cheek in on one side with a sour look.
“Oh come on, you know it was,” Ophelia said placating him, sorry now to have been so sharp. “How is… Alice anyway?” she said the name like poison and added archly, “are you still paddling her fanny when she’s a bad girl?”
“You know me,” he said quietly. “But she doesn’t take to it too well sometimes.”
“Ooh,” Ophelia said in mock sympathy, “Is the great Mr Open too hot for her to handle?”
Richard didn’t answer as he picked up the menu and pretended to consider lunch.
“There’s nothing serious between us,” he said at last, “she is just another one of those women I used to have around before we were married.”
“Yes and you warned me you wouldn’t always give them up,” she said angrily, “I was warned and we both know I only wanted the prize. So fair play Richard, see, it was all my fault.”
“I… I loved, love you,” he said quietly, “From that first… I didn’t have to marry you but I did. I thought that the other girls would be fun if you could handle it. But I gave them up, all at once I found I had grown up and didn’t need them anymore.”
“Until Alice Duvall,” Ophelia accused.
“I spanked her,” he shot back; “She had it coming. What was the big deal?”
“Yeah, I bet. She played you like a fool. That little bitch had her hooks into you and you let her,” Ophelia yelled. “And then when we, when I… scammed you for the money you sent me to that… you let someone… oh,” she spluttered angrily, “You… you spank her, but not me.”
Several people in the restaurant looked over and even Richard looked uncomfortable. But Ophelia didn’t wait. She threw down her napkin as she stood up and stormed away.
*
Ophelia had got two blocks before Richard’s cab pulled alongside matching the pace of her hot heels on the sidewalk. If she was mad then he was angrier still. The little brat had thrown their marriage over on account of a spanking? She had messed in some dangerous and expensive business trying to get him to spank her? And all of it had been about Alice? He was furious.
As the car slid up to his wife he eyed the jounce of her hips and bottom in her tight skirt. It wasn’t the only thing was that tight he noticed. But he was still too mad just then.
He slapped a five dollar bill on the back of the driver’s seat and told him they were taking on a passenger. Then he opened the cab door and leapt out.
Ophelia struggled hard, harder when she saw that Richard was her abductor, but he tossed her easily over his shoulder and hauled her into the back seat of the cab.
“Hey what gives Mac?” the driver exclaimed.
“My wife,” Richard growled as he tossed another five at the guy.
The driver looked uncertain but Ophelia chose that moment to enter the conversation.
“Richard Open you bastard,” she spat at Richard.
The driver hesitated a moment longer and then counted the money in his head. Some marriages were just like that, he guessed and besides the guy looked like her could afford it. The car pulled away fast.
Ophelia tumbled back with her dignity scattered and fell sideways in a heap on the back seat next to her ex-husband.
“Richard you… where are we going?” she gasped.
“Home,” he replied and leaned forward to give the address to the driver.
*
Ophelia stood on the sidewalk looking up at the familiar brownstone and tried to stay mad. Behind her Richard paid off the driver who grinned as he barked cheerfully, “Good luck Mac,” before pulling away.
“Richard…” Ophelia began and then squealed, “Richard” as she was hoist over her husband’s shoulder with her bottom in the air.
For Ophelia the next few moments were series of rails, plaster-embossed ceilings and unfamiliar angles as she was bundled upside down up the steps and into the house.
“Richard,” she wailed, “Put me down.”
To her surprise Richard obliged. Only instead if setting her on her feet he sat down on the top step of the second floor and dragged her pell-mell across his lap.
“Richard you can’t…” she gasped, acutely aware that somewhere was a maid and who knew who else, “Not here.”
Her words ended in a shrieked as his hand blasted down on the seat of her skirt.
“Alice Duvall means nothing to me, never has, never will,” Richard bellowed as he spanked her.
“Shush,” she hissed, still more worried about her red face than her red bottom.
He pounded at her behind with his paddle-like hand until shush was driven from her and she was again yelping her discomfort.
“Not here, please not here,” she wailed.
“Get up those stairs,” he growled as he finally set her free.
He didn’t wait for her compliance and she found herself tugged like rag-doll up another flight of stairs to the intimate rooms of the house.
Once they reached the bedroom he glared at her and unbuttoned his jacket before tossing it on the bed. Then as she watched, he slowly began to roll up his sleeves until Ophelia gulped and began to back away.
“Now Richard,” she remonstrated, “I’m not your wife remember, you can’t spank me.”
“Spank you?” he said quietly, “I’ll spank you alright and the rest.”
“Richard,” she squealed and turned to run.
It was easy enough to get her over his knee as he sat on the bed, but her tight skirt was another matter. At some point the zip broke and a silk slip bulged through the opening.
“Careful that is…” she wasn’t sure she cared right then.
Then skirt, slip, panties all went south and Ophelia was left in her suspender-stockings and a bare bottom.
“When I am done here you will fetch your hairbrush from the dresser,” he told her.
“My…” she looked up; everything was just as she had left it with no sign of Alice Duvall.
Then the spanking began and she kicked her legs theatrically. The weeping and wailing lasted for long minutes as Richard spanked her over and over until her neat full rounds were as red as her face.
“You… you little fool,” he scolded, “I love you, you…”
“Richard please,” she yelped, but to no avail.
He spanked her for several long minutes until his had stung and his arm ached like a novice.
“Now fetch the brush,” he said sternly.
“Yes Richard,” she replied meekly.
Then she got unsteadily to her feet and tottered over to her dresser and took up her hairbrush.
“You little idiot, I’ll teach you to…”
“Teach me Sir,” she said in a small voice.
*
Ophelia’s bottom was on fire and tears streamed down her face, but she was home. How could I have missed this? she thought, but I have. She had tucked her elbows and knees under either side of Richard’s thighs as he soundly spanked her across his lap. He handled the hairbrush like an expert as it blasted down mercilessly on her exposed bottom until she howled at each impact.
“This is only the beginning you absolute brat,” he barked.
“Yes Sir,” she wailed breathlessly as she kicked her ankles.
Finally, her second spanking was over and Richard sent her to the corner for a good cry.
“Damn it you brat, we didn’t eat lunch,” was his only comment as he his belly complained, but to see Ophelia where she belonged; red-bottomed and in the corner was worth it and they both knew it.
For one evil minute he thought of ringing down for a sandwich to have Maria see Ophelia put in her place, but another insistent hunger pressed upon him and he had a better idea.
Meanwhile in the corner Ophelia reached around and tentatively prodded at her bottom. Her crying and breathing were under control and she had idly begun to wonder if a divorce could be annulled.
“You know there is only one thing for it?” he said from behind her.
She didn’t turn. He had trained her to well for that.
“Will you marry me Mrs Open?”
Her discipline broke and she rushed at him for a kiss. The momentum carried them on to the bed where his hands painfully found her bruised behind. Ophelia didn’t care. He was a big man and today he was hard, harder than she remembered and she wanted him.
Ten minutes later he had her again; this time on all fours while he pounded at her hungrily from behind.
“Hey, you didn’t answer me,” he said at last, as he collapsed onto the bed next to her.
“Oh I think I did,” she grinned archly and reached for his manhood.
He wasn’t ready for her, not yet and she wondered if he might respond to some oral stimulation.
“I’ll ask Alice to resign,” he said earnestly, “I’ll give her some dough and ship her out to another company. Some people owe me some favours.”
“You swear you never touched her when we were married,” Ophelia said huskily.
“I would have said. I did a few times when we first married, like I told you but… not since… and never with her until…” the usually assured Richard was desperate not to say the wrong thing but determined not to lie.
Ophelia kissed him to silence.
“And is it right that Alice Duvall doesn’t care to be spanked?” Ophelia’s eyes narrowed.
What was she up to? He thought.
“Well which girl does?”
“Afterwards, I mean, when girls like me feel all safe and forgiven?” Ophelia pressed him.
“Not half the time anyway, not when I’m pissed at her,” he told his renewed wife.
“Then…” Ophelia licked her lips, “Offer Alice twice her salary, triple if you like, but on one condition.”
“Oh?” Richard said suspiciously as his eyes crinkled up at the corners.
“As a requirement for her service, send her to Wentworth once a month for a full work out,” Ophelia smirked. “Once a month for the duration of her employment.”
Years hopefully, she thought, that ought to fix the gold digging bitch.
“Ophelia I can’t…”
“Just make the offer, give her a fair alternative, so long as it is much less lucrative, but make her the offer,” Ophelia giggled, “See what she says.”
“You really are a nasty brat aren’t you?” he growled.
“Probably, but I am betting so is she,” Ophelia smirked.
“Okay, I’ll offer her a year’s pay as severance and a detachment to another company on double pay,” he said angrily, “And two year’s pay as an end of year bonus and… treble pay, if she accepts your plan. But she’s not like that, she won’t take it. I bet she’ll just resign and tell me where to stick my job.”
You gullible schmuck, she thought affectionately. Suddenly she didn’t care what Alice Duvall did so long as Richard took her back. He could spank her silly for all she cared.
“Now you little brat bend over the bed. I have had enough of your machinations.” His voice was dark.
Ophelia pondered how she would handle another spanking and came down for acceptance when she saw his penis twitch. Then he reached for his belt on the floor.
“Oh come on, at least wait to see if she takes my suggestion,” she wheedled.
“You have already been mean whatever she says, so you had better pray you have her right or maybe it will be you who gets to see Wentworth,” Richard growled at her.
Ophelia levered herself onto all fours and stuck her bottom up. She doubted that Richard would do that, but she was certain she would get some more belting if he was right about Alice. But she was certain he wasn’t.
Then the belt seared into her bottom and she bit down on her lip. Oh jeez, this is going to be…
The belt struck again and Ophelia yelped, I must be crazy, she thought, and then grunted at another impact on her behind.
“Ooh Richard, please… ow, that hurts,” she snapped testily and then screeched, “Richard,” as the belt continued to ply its trade.
*
What a totally gross office building, Alice Duvall thought as she stood in the hall next to the sign on the door. What is a justice adjuster anyway? I don’t even know what I am doing here, she lied. Richard had made it crystal clear what was required of her for their new arrangement.
That bitch Ophelia had wormed her way back to the golden goose and wanted her out, although transfer to some dumbass company in Washington on double pay wasn’t bad. It almost made up for missing out on the prize. That had been her first response anyway. Then as he had offered her his hand, his hand for Christ’s sake, like she was what, his aunt? Not that she wanted a kiss from him, not then, but she was entitled to the chance to slap his face for giving her one.
“No hard feelings,” he said.
No more hard feelings from me anyway, ever, she sneered quietly.
“Oh no, you and the bitch deserve one another,” she had smiled sweetly.
Richard had frowned then and he moved to the stance that so often led to a spanking for her.
“Just kidding,” she said hastily.
He had sized her up for a moment and then said, “Look I wasn’t going to offer you this…”
She suddenly smiled more warmly and tried to look sincere.
“Oh yes?” she asked.
“You could always stay on with increased pay and a better bonus…”
Alice hadn’t even cared about the conditions, she didn’t listen. Double-double pay and a double bonus was better than a transfer to Washington. Hell she would go down on whoever he said for less, him if he liked. She had smiled so benignly.
“Hell you and Ophelia are perfect together, you never should have divorced her,” Alice said with her second best smile.
Now she found herself in a dingy dump down town. The door opened then a dumpy past-it blonde with glasses stood there. She had to be 30 at least.
“Miss Duvall for her hiney shellacking,” Alice said pertly and then affected a yawn, “Which asshole is going to paddle me today?” How bad could it be, she thought dismissively, but her mind was on how she was going to spend her bonus.
Patty frowned and led the newcomer into the office. The file on her desk called for a monthly standard or standard plus as required. Wentworth’s secretary quietly crossed out standard and added another plus sign to the specification. Then with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes she said, “The asshole will see you shortly.”
End of this cycle.
