Anne Thiman was lovely, sitting at her desk in the First Colonial Bank, with her frilly lace blouse and black slacks. She smiled frequently, and a casual observer would never be able to guess her secret, ongoing penance. It was a rainy day, bursts of summer thunder in early July, hinting at the Fourth of July fireworks due that weekend, and it suited Jeff North's mood. After a month of knowing how Anne had been stealing from him, he still found himself swimming in pools of outrage from time to time. Word had not leaked out she was in trouble, his conspiracy of humiliation was intact, at least, it was part of the town's unofficial secrets. Jeff's cell phone buzzed; he answered it: "Hello."
"Hello, Jeff." Barry Halls was on the other end. "Ready for tonight's fun and games?"
"You bet. I think we need to take another line completely tonight."
"Suits me, beating her butt is starting to wear me out. What do you have in mind?"
"Two things, but I think we'll go one at a time. She's doing her work well and quietly, the money's halfway back."
"Has she gotten past the new firewall yet?"
"No. You did a good job there. She only has access to what she needs to fix things, not to cause more damage, and you and I know everything she's doing."
"She doing anything on the off hours?"
"No. I set her computer up to log out automatically at 5PM and she can't log in until 9AM. The only remote access is from my station, and she hasn't hacked that yet. Betty's been monitoring her every move online, she's clean."
"Betty trustworthy?"
"Betty hates Anne with a passion. She's been handling the whips and paddles at the Elk's Club sessions."
"Excellent. Looking forward to tonight."
"See you later."
An hour later, Anne came into Jeff's office. "Jeff, I need to know who's been in the audience at our little sessions."
"No."
"I've been getting looks from certain people: Brother Travis, my pastor, the school principal, Fern Davis at the malt shop. Are they wearing robes when I'm. . .I'm. . .I'm on display?"
"You don't need to know. Wonder who's seeing you naked and your ass whipped red every week. It may be different people, it may be the same."
"There's one who I know is the same. Enjoying the blow jobs?"
Jeff smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've heard nothing unusual about you around town this month. Has anyone said anything to you?"
She shook her head. "No, no, no. I'm nice to everybody, as usual, give them a chance to reveal themselves, but they don't say anything. There's just a little glint in a few eyes I've spotted."
"This is part of your punishment. You know how small towns are: nobody talks, but everybody knows. No confrontations, no hint of the secrets, but whispers on the side. From now on, whenever you turn on that electric smile, sing on Sunday with your angelic voice, run your household errands during the week, you never know who knows you sins."
She frowned and stamped her foot, but didn't say anything. "It's been hell."
"Has it? Dave say anything to you yet?"
"No. Nothing. Clara's wondering what's up, so I sent her off to another young Christian camp, so she's none the wiser. Blake's still in South Africa and won't be back for a few months. I'm alone."
"Welcome to my world," Jeff replied in a low voice. "Just remember: you brought this on yourself. You present yourself as the righteous Christian role model, you built up the reputation for holiness and piety. You diverted the funds, you took the kickbacks, you gambled with my money. You're lucky I don't take that lovely house up on the ridge with the view. You're lucky I don't take the BMW van, or the convertible. You're lucky I don't take the vacation house in the Florida Keys. Oh yes, I know about that, and the motor yacht with range to make the Caymans. I keep a close eye on you, and that's why I ordered you to surrender your passport. I'm not as stupid as you think I am."
She looked back at him with her baby blue eyes: unsmiling, serious, hostile with a tinge of fear in the background. "You gonna whip my ass again tonight, big boy?"
"You'll find out. Let's have a little suspense: maybe it's the single strand whip, maybe it's the cat o'nine tails, maybe it's the paddle with the holes that leave the delightful Swiss cheese look. Maybe a combination. There's lots of ways we can amuse ourselves. Savor the anticipation."
The rest of the afternoon crawled by for Jeff. He could hardly contain his excitement over his plans for the evening, from time and time he looked through his windows across the lobby to Anne's office, where she was working at her desk. Late in the day, she was talking with a couple, flashing her charismatic smile and caught his gaze out of the corner of her eye. The smile stayed as if painted on, but her eyes shone with fear.
He resisted the urge to masturbate in the Men's Room. A couple of times an alarm went off on his computer: Anne was still trying to break in and ruin him. After a month of regular humiliation, she was still defiant, still looking for a way out of her punishment, a way to turn the tables and send him to prison. Reviewing his security protocols and his password in his mind, he was satisfied that he was protected, especially since Barry automatically knew every move Anne made.
As he left the Bank, a rainbow stretched high in the sky overhead. He looked up at it for several moments and relaxed. The plot was going well, the scene was set for tonight, and he almost longed to go on to the final stage he'd planned. But no, patience would be rewarded, and when he was done, Anne would be forever intimidated.
Thunder rumbled in the west when she knocked three times on the back door of the Elks Club. Jeff had gathered his friends once more, and briefed them earlier: "Tonight, you can allow yourself some verbal response, some gasps and cheers, but no words, please. I appreciate the silence you've observed at our sessions so far; tonight we change things up to keep her guessing. Fern, stay silent, I don't want her to know another woman's here, lets save that for the next stage. I'll give you the high sign, then give her bedlam. It'll be a while."
Anne was led into the room, wearing what she wore at work: the frilly lace blouse, black slacks with red high heels. She started removing her clothes with the order, without speaking. The robed figures stayed perfectly silent, unmoving. First the blouse came off, revealing creamy white skin and a frilly white bra underneath, that scooped her breasts upward and outward, then the slacks revealing calf high nude stockings and the ubiquitous pink polka dot panties. She spun in a circle, teasing them, before reaching back to unhook her bra, throwing it aside proudly with her chest held high and her breasts jutting out. Then she took off her panties, revealing a perfectly shaved crotch. Putting her hands on her head, she looked defiantly at the figures around her. "Let the games begin," she said with an aggressive tone.
