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Jan turned on a light switch which provided a very dull light source from a fan-light on the center of the ceiling located in the middle of the room. He watched her perfectly shaped butt encased in black leather walk sternly over to the stool and saw her bend over and adjust the stool a bit. She turned around and faced Gaden and the door entrance he was still standing in, sitting in the most perfect spanking position anyone could imagine, smoothing out her leather lap. She placed the wooden hairbrush on her lap and quickly adjusted her leather gloves to tighten them, then brandishing them with both hands clamping and squeezing between fingers to further make sure they were tight and in place, ready for the task at hand; ending with her wiggling her finger towards Gaden to come hither. Her sharp blue eyes and pursed lips all very, very serious exuded with strictness; a look Gaden has never really seen but has only imagined. “Come here, and stand at my right side,” Ms. Tannersby said. A clambake of blonde beach-bunnies here, a cabal of thin, gothic men there. As the initial disquiet passed he felt a deeper sense of loss. Here was as much company as a person could want, all young and good looking, just a room away. For a silly moment he felt like a gatecrasher at a party full of people much too interesting and popular to want to talk to him. Not very good conversationalists though, he thought, and headed on to the kitchen. * * * The coffee tasted pretty bad, Armitage decided, but it least it had caffeine in it. He looked at his watch. Not even nine o'clock. His colleagues had gone home hours ago, but he had decided to work late again. If he left around eleven then there would only be about an hour to kill before he was ready for bed. Maybe the cinema would be a better idea. No one was going to be impressed by all the long hours - it's not like there was really enough work to justify them. No. There.
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