1 comments/ 25953 views/ 0 favorites Anne's Atonement By: The Needler Anne Thiman was lovely; everyone in town knew that. Enthroned at her desk in the First Colonial Bank, she presided over a great deal of the business going through Potsdam, Missouri, overseeing financing for most of the local businesses in the area. She had large, blue eyes, pure white skin, short brown hair and her frequent smile featured perfect teeth and dimples. Her co-workers were envious of her toned figure: no one would guess her to be a woman of 40 with a missionary son in South Africa and a daughter who was captain of the Potsdam cheerleading squad. Most men envied her husband Dave, paramedic, amateur cyclist and lay preacher at the Potsdam Bible Church. In many ways, Anne effectively ran Potsdam and most of the county, a role model for young Christian women wishing the blessing of success. Jeff North sat at the desk of his Presidential office, looking across the bank lobby at Anne sitting at her desk, phone to her ear, speaking quickly and decisively. "I'm an old fat man," he said softly. "I'm thirty pounds overweight, my hair is either grey or falling out, I pee in Morse Code, and my wife has been wearing flannel nightgowns for twenty years. Don't know why I even look at Anne, Barry. She's definitely out of my league." "I think you're focused the wrong direction, Jerry," Barry Halls replied, shaking his head in negation. "She may look like an angel, she may sound like an angel when she sings on Sunday morning, she may act like an angel with that relentlessly charming smile of hers, but she's no angel. If we don't act quickly, that little angel may send us all to Hell." Jeff turned away from his Vice President and looked the internal auditor from St. Louis. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" "Fraud. Embezzlement. Kickbacks. This little lady is a triple threat." "Tell me more." "I've suspected it for a long time, but I found the proof yesterday. She's taking kickbacks for all the business loans she's been approving." "She's on the Chamber of Commerce, and the President this year. Everybody knows her." "Risky trading under assumed identities, using the bank's funds without authorization." "Guess there's a reason for all that overtime." "And a very subtle skimming off the top, moving funds off to an offshore account I just found." Jeff sat back and whistled. "Is she on to you?" Barry shook his head. "Does everyone in town know?" "Sure," Barry said. "They don't see a problem, she's charmed them all. They think she's a fine, upstanding, trustworthy Christian woman who's on their side. She may be a cheat, but she's their cheat." "You got around town quickly." "Doesn't take long around here. I don't think any of them want any trouble, and they'll keep their mouths shut until the Feds show up." "So what's the story? Do we save our asses, or does she take us down with her?" "Oh, we can still save our asses. We put the money back, and things should be all right. We throw her under the bus, we should be all right. Our choice." The Bank President stroked his balding head and looked at his colleague for several moments. "If I'm not greatly mistaken, this is what's called leverage." The Auditor smiled. "Yes, it is." "I have an idea." It was several hours later when the rest of the employees had gone for the day that Anne Thiman stood in front of the President's desk. Barry Hall sat off to her right with a huge grin on his face. "Mrs. Thiman. . ." Jeff began. Anne cut in abruptly: "Ms. Thiman" "Mrs. Thiman, I have some data which has disturbed me greatly. Would you please look over the paperwork in front of you?" She stood stock still, not flinching. "I know what it means. Congratulations, I didn't think you'd figure it out. You must be cutting down your Scotch ration, Jeff." Jeff looked up over his glasses at her. "This may not be the best time for arrogance. We have you dead to rights." Barry cut in. "And we have a choice to make. We can let you take the blame for everything, wash our hands of all responsibility, and let you endure public humiliation and prison. I doubt you'd be able to show your face in public in this town ever again. Or we could say nothing, let you put everything right before the Feds show up, keep everything between us, and no one is the wiser." Laughing sarcastically, she gave Barry a withering look. "That's a surprisingly fair offer coming from a fat, decadent fool like you, Barry. What's the catch?" "You have to submit to whatever we want to do to you," Jeff said with a subtle smile on his face. "Your humiliation will be private." "Mr. North," she said in a frosty voice, crossing her arms in front of herself in defiance. "I'll have you know I'm a good Christian woman who's been faithful to her husband all her life." "No doubt, Annie, no doubt. Though you have no compunction about screwing the Bank, that's for certain. You've broken other Commandments, and you must suffer the punishment, atone for your sins. We won't violate the sanctity of your marriage, the sanctity of your sacred vagina. Your Lord and Master will still have exclusive rights to that." Anne Thiman started quivering and tears started to leak from her eyes. "But I, I, I, I. . ." ". . .didn't know I was screwing the Bank that badly?" Barry finished for her. She looked at him like a frightened animal. "Didn't know skimming that much money was a violation of God's Commandments, at least the ones about stealing and lying, probably coveting, too? Didn't know Greed was one of the Seven Deadly Sins?" The tears flowed down her cheeks copiously, and she whispered: "Give me another chance. Jeff. Please." Jeff walked around the desk and brushed a tear from her cheek. "Yes, I will. But you have to do everything I say, tell me everything you're doing before you do it, and tell no one." She shook her head. "If you do something too awful to me, my husband will beat you up." "Funny you should mention him," Barry said, pulling out his digital recorder. "Listen to this." The voice trembled in anger from the speaker. "Barry Hall told me everything, Annie. I'm ashamed of you, ashamed for our children. You're a sinner, a dirty, lying sinner, and you're a long way from the grace of God. Divorce isn't part of God's plan, but you're not sleeping with me again until you atone for your sins. Clara's going to stay with her grandmother for a while, and I don't want to see you around the house. I expect it to be maintained perfectly, and my dinner waiting for me when I come home, but you will not be in sight. After you've done everything Jeff tells you, submit to everything he makes you suffer, we'll talk and I'll forgive you. But not until then. Not until it's all done. How dare you do this to me, you self-righteous bitch!" A look of shock and rage filled her face. "That rat bastard! He knew everything I was doing, approved it personally. He should be here, not me!" Jeff shook his head. "We don't have proof Dave did anything. I don't think he's lying. He told me about how things are at your house, when we were sitting in the bleachers at the girl's softball game last week. You surely aren't the submissive little Christian wife you pretend to be. 'Wives, obey your husbands.' How long has it been since you've given Dave sex?" Her eyes flared in outrage. "You have no right to ask that." "No, I don't, but Dave said it's been years. Has to jack off in the shower to get his rocks off now and then. You knew that, didn't you?" She went silent, looking downward sullenly. "Yeah, you knew what that white goo in the drain was." "Here's what you're going to do, Anne," Barry cut in. "You will come to work tomorrow and act as if everything's normal. Jeff will approve any loans or other significant transactions you make. You will start working to undo the mess you've made, bring the money back from the Cayman Islands, yes, we know about that, start easing the money you took in kickbacks into the merchant's accounts so they won't notice it. . ." "Then tomorrow night at 9:00 PM you'll come to the back door of the Elks Club. Knock three times, and when the door opens, enter and do everything you're told." "This is where the gross and disgusting happens, right Jeff? I can see the little bulge in your pants, the little damp spot." Jeff nodded his head. "Oh yes, Annie. And you will have no control over what happens to you. Or else all this is off and we sell you out to the Feds. Barry thinks you'll be a Domme behind bars, but I don't think you have the balls for it, so it's either be abused by men you know here or by bull dykes you don't know at the State Pen. You think Jesus will let you become a lesbian love doll?" "I'll be there, I won't go to prison," she said with quiet steel in her voice. "I can take whatever you can dish out." It was a quiet the next day in Potsdam, nothing was out of the ordinary. The June day was bright and blue, no clouds gave relief from the heat. Jeff looked at Anne several times during the day, in her white, silk blouse and dark skirt, calm and collected as ever, smiling and laughing as she mixed with the customers as usual. A few text messages he received during the day informed him that his guests would be available for the special meeting, a couple were even interested in taking part. He smiled and tried to control himself: he would need to save himself for the end of the night's fun. She arrived punctually at the back door, admitted by a tall figure in a grey robe and a mask. "That looks like a choir robe from the First Presbyterian Church," she said, a slight tremor in her voice. "If you wish to avoid more pain this evening, you'd better keep your mouth shut and speak when you're spoken to." "Sure, Jeff." He led her into a twilight room, where a dozen robed and masked figures stood in a semi circle. A spotlight picked out a circle in the center: her destination. She stood in the light bravely, smiling her charismatic smile and blinking in the harsh light. A figure stood in front of her motionless for two full minutes; she gazed at him most of the time, her eyes flicking occasionally at the other figures seeking a clue to what was going to happen. A voice from the side of the room addressed her at last: "Remove your blouse." "Huh?" "Remove your blouse, or suffer the consequences." Her eyes went wide. It seemed a lifetime passed, all the figures around the room stood stock still, unmoving, waiting, until at least, hesitantly, she undid the buttons of her sleeve and then the front. Pulling it off her shoulders, she cringed momentarily before holding her chest high. Her white lace bra cupped her breasts sweetly, her perfect white skin shone in the light. "All right, boys, you have your little look. Like what you see?" "Silence! Remove your skirt." Another long moment passed before she unzipped the side, slipping it free and stepping out of it. She still wore the red heels from work and her hose went three quarters of the way up her leg. Her panties were bore small pink polka dots. "Remove your bra." "What? Can't you see enough? What do you. . ." "Silence! Remove your bra." She looked around, vainly trying to find someone to outstare, but the masks kept her from doing that. If I could only see their eyes, she thought to herself. Awkwardly, she reached around and unhooked the garment, drawing it down as her breasts flopped free. They rested like small torpedos above her waist, the nipples hardening immediately in the cool air. Her hands reached up to cover herself before the voice commanded: "Put your hands together on your head." For once she obeyed immediately. Her winning smile came out again, struggling to control the situation as it had many times in her life. Still she looked around from mask to mask, trying to find sympathy behind one, but there was none. The next order came at last: "Remove your panties." She looked down at her legs, her smile dropping, looked up again and slipped her hands down. Her bush was salt and pepper; black was giving way to grey. Her backside was apple shaped, marred by some cellulite that was just beginning its encroachment. All her skin shone blazing white in the bright light. "You're not recording this, are you? Are you? I know what happens on YouTube, you'll get in so much trouble for posting. . ." "Silence! Put your hands together on your head." Timidly she complied. A small gesture from the leader and a blindfold was tied around her eyes. Whimpering noises escaped her mouth, but a sharp intake of breath from the leader silenced them. Then, a crack rang out and a red line of pain appeared on her well rounded buttocks. It was followed by two more in close succession. She winced with every blow, and her lower lip started to quiver slightly. Several more stings, and she bent over with a yelp. "Stand up straight, or you will go to prison tonight." Tears ran down next to the blindfold as the air was parted by leather. Their pace was uneven, single blows well spaced, followed by several in pairs and threes, then several in close succession. Her butt turned red as the welt marks deepened and swelled. Several angry, dark red lines scored her skin, a couple were leaking red. They stopped and there was another grand pause. "Kneel." Trembling, she descended and yelped when her knees touched the concrete floor. "Ouch, this is hard and cold." "Silence! You will kneel until told to rise." More time passed as she knelt in subjugation, breathing heavily and her breasts bobbing slightly as her chest heaved. The masked figure approached her, his hands parting the front of his robe. "Open your mouth." "Why?" "Silence! You will open your mouth. If you feel something touch your face, you will lick it; if you feel something land on your tongue, you will suck it; if any liquid enters your mouth, you will swallow it." "It's not right, it's unnatural. It's against God's Law!" "So what? You're a Sinner, you can't hide behind God's Law any more. If you do not obey, you'll go to prison." Her mouth bobbed open and the figure waited several moments before putting the head of his cock on her face. He touched her teasingly: resting on one cheek, moving to let her tongue find it, then pulling back and watching her wobble uncertainly, her breasts jiggling. The cockhead went between her lips, she sucked it slowly at first, not knowing what to do, but he moved it in and out, fucking her face, until she got the hang of it. His breathing became ragged, and before he finished he pulled out of her mouth, whipping her cheeks with his dickhead before spewing a large load of seed on her tongue and cheeks. They let her kneel there for several moments, sperm hanging on her face. The blindfold was ripped off and the figure before her gestured her to rise. The voice came from the side of the room again: "One week from today, you will come here at the same time to receive more punishment. You will be watched in the meantime, and your conduct will determine your fate next week." "I thought tonight was enough, I thought. . ." "You diverted over $400,000 dollars this past year. Tonight is not nearly enough to cover that. You will subject yourself to this until we tell you it's over, or you will go to prison. Is this clear?" The response was in a voice so tiny it was almost inaudible. "Yes." "Then go!" There was no movement as she gathered her clothes, wincing as she put on her panties, and her shaking fingers misbuttoned the front of her blouse. Her hair was disheveled, and white flecks still adorned her face. She staggered as she left the room and the door slammed hard with her exit. Jeff took off his mask and looked around at his friends, all local businessmen Anne cheated. There were high fives all around, and as the lights came up, the men started to help themselves to drinks at the bar. Fern Davis, the owner of the malt shop, whispered into a nearby man's ear, and they left together as soon as they took off their robes and gave Anne a chance to get home. Barry came over and clapped Jeff on the shoulder: "Well buddy, what do you have in mind for her next week?" "I'll let you know." Anne's Atonement Ch. 02 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. "Take off your shoes and stockings." The command came from a different voice, off to the side. "Variety is the spice of life, isn't it, Barry? All right, I'm game." She stepped out of her heels and pulled off her stockings quickly, standing barefoot before them with her hands folded on her head. "Put your hands out in front of you." She looked confused. "Huh?" "Put your hands out in front of you." Shrugging, she did as ordered and gasped as a pair of handcuffs were secured quickly on her wrists. They were pulled upward and hung on a hook that made her stand on tip toe. Her eyes darted around, looking for reaction but finding none. Then, a red silk hood was pulled over her head, followed by the sharp crack of a paddle hitting padded flesh. "The hole-ly paddle tonight," she sneered, "what fun!" There was a awkward pause as she expected an order to be silent, but none came. There were several more smacks of wood against bottom, her cellulite touched apples started turning red. Tonight the strokes fell regularly, machine like, working back and forth to cover every part of her ass. "Hey, you missed a spot, up to the left about an inch," she snapped, "you're getting soft." She yelped and whimpered as she received her spanking, but soon she was shocked as the single tail whip landed across her rock hard nipples with a smack echoed by a crack of thunder directly overhead. The room erupted in sound: shouting, jeering, laughing. Men's voices in a chorus of ridicule, men's voices reveling in her pain. The welter of sound reached a high point every time the whip laid a new line of pain across her torpedo shaped breasts, making them swing and quickly turning them red around the nipples. She yelled and shouted, but no word was understood. Trying unsuccessfully to dance away from the whip, she jerked back and forth, pulling at her hands to get the overhead support to come out of the wall. With skill and precision, her lovely breasts sprouted a web of red welts from the whip, the skin giving a glow as a sheen of sweat covered her skin. Occasionally, a stroke landed back across her shoulders when she tried to turn too far. The thunder growled overhead to embellish the chorus of shame. When it was ended, she breathed heavily in the hood, making the front pull in and out dramatically as she tried to catch her breath. A bare hand reached out, touching the sore flesh, running a finger around the sore brown buds, squeezing the funbags and drawing more screams from their owner. The chorus of abuse subsided to enjoy the wails and outcry of their victim. A single voice rang out: "You deserve it, bitch" but wasn't followed by any other voices as the room grew quiet once again. The hood beneath her eyes started growing damp with her tears. The tableau of the beginning was restored, and they held position as Anne's breathing returned to normal. She subsided to sobs and little snips of high pitched yelps; when the hood was ripped off her face, her eyes were red and her mascara ran in streams down her cheeks. Blinking in the bright white light, she started murmuring at first, growing louder and louder: "You bastards!" Like a mantra she repeated it, growing louder and stronger until she was shouting at the top of her voice. A hand unhooked her cuffs from the ceiling support and she fell on her sore butt with a thud. A figure detached itself from the semi circle and approached her. A hand made gestures of release, and a naked healthy cock sprouted six inches from her face. "You think I'm going to keep sucking this thing, don't you? Just like I've done every week since I came here. Well, I won't become your blow job slut, you'll never get me to do this anyplace else in this world. You're lucky I don't bite it off." A calm, dark voice measured out firm words: "If you do that, you'll be lucky if you end up in jail." Hands grabbed the sides of her head and the cock plunged between her lips. She gagged initially, then began to lick and suck it. He let her take her time, move from anger to acceptance. He pulled back and she sputtered: "It's always good to see an old friend, isn't it, Jeff?" It moved forward, cutting off her words, pushing in as far as it would go, moving in and out, roughly fucking her face. The rest of the room stayed quiet as Anne sucked cock. Jeff watched, and was amazed to see some cooperation surface as his friend approached his orgasm. She seemed to be disappointed when he pulled his cock out, stroking it furiously to deposit a huge stream of white magic on her cheeks and mouth. She closed her eyes and waited, and it seemed he would never stop. When it was done, she gulped down the contents of her mouth, waited until her handcuffs were undone and was lifted to her feet. As she turned to leave, the white polka dots tattooed on her bright red ass stood out, and she held her abused breasts tenderly, crying as she left. The room held its silence until she was gone, when the masks came off. Fern Davis was a short, plump, wrinkled woman with dark hair and a light hair over her upper lip. She approached Jeff and touched his arm. "Hey buddy, you interested in some action? Can a girl help you out?" "My wife will be at home," Jeff replied. "Oh, we don't have to go far, sugar," she said. "Just backstage over there. I'm sure nobody'll mind after that show. I'll take all the frustrated manhood here, any way you want it. How do you want, Jeff?" He looked at his watch and his friends standing around. "Just a little head, Fern. I don't have to cum." "That's what you think." She took him behind the screen and almost ripped his pants off. When his cock appeared, she cooed in appreciation and began sucking and licking it, working her tongue all over the head. He was so turned on by Anne's abuse it took less than two minutes to shoot his load, which she sucked down without hesitation. Fern came out from behind the curtain in search of fresh meat and Jeff went to the bar for a Scotch. Barry was still smiling from ear to ear. "I've got to hand it to you, Jeff. You're doing a great job." "Thanks, Barry. Did you like the change in the setup tonight?" "Loved it. We've been doing the same thing pretty much the same way for four weeks, so this change really set her back. Do you think she'll give up and go to prison after all?" Jeff stroked his chin and thought. "No, I don't. She may be considering it, but she's tough, and in her mind there's still a chance things'll go back to normal. I don't want to push her farther than tonight, but this was fun." Barry chuckled. "So what's next for her?" "Oh probably some hot wax, clothespins, maybe tie her tits up and let them turn purple. Combined with the butt work, there's many ways we can mix and match. We can do a lot in the next three sessions." The room had grown boisterous after Anne left. It was the same group that attended the previous week's sessions, and they enjoyed her pain immensely. Alfie Gardner came up and tapped Jeff on the shoulder, Bourbon traveling on his breath: "Jeff, Jeff, Jeff, you are the best frien' a man ever had. Best Friend! That self rightous bitch d'serves everythin'. Ya put the Fear of God into her tonight, the Fear of God! Keep up the good work, son, and tell me when. . .ta come back!" He lurched away, and Fern Davis led another man behind the curtain. Several glasses were lifted Jeff's direction across the room, and the School Principal, Dr. Harry Evans, clapped his hand on Jeff's shoulder, his eyes shining, on the verge of speaking for a minute before letting go and wobbling across the room. "It looks like a success to me," Barry said. "You gonna let me do all the talking next week, too?" Jeff shook his head. "No, we should probably switch it from now on. Need to keep her guessing." "And the ending." "Just you wait, Harry Balls." Anne's Atonement Ch. 03 Anne Thiman was lovely, her face and hair perfect, her green buttoned up sweater fitting tightly across her torso. August sent several people on vacation and she was having to take a turn behind the counter. Her face was a little more lined than a couple of months ago, her smile not quite as brilliant, but she still charmed the masses. Jeff North sat at his Bank President desk, thinking idly ahead to the last evening of her atonement ahead. His cell buzzed and he noticed an old friend was on the line. "Hello, Barry," he said as he accepted the call. "Hi Jeff. How's it hanging?" "Fine. Did our little lady come though for us as she promised?" "Absolutely. Everything's in its rightful place, and all's right with the world. Kinda makes me sad." "Yeah, me too. I'm going to miss our Tuesday night entertainment." "So maybe should we cook up something on Betty to get some fresh meat?" The line at the teller's window dwindled, and Anne caught Jeff's eye. He nodded, and she waited on the last customer. "Barry, I got to hang up in a minute, Anne wants to talk. You got her transfer ready?" "You bet, all set. She wise to you?" "Hell, no. She's coming, see you later." "Later." The last customer was done and Anne closed the window, walking across the lobby to Jeff's office. Her stride was still strong and confident, her face pleasant but purposeful, her manner calm. When she entered the office, she asked Jeff: "Would please close the blinds?" "What? How come?" "I have something to show you in private for once." He moved to do as she asked for both the outside blinds and the inside ones that cut them off from the Lobby's attentions. Jeff sat back at his seat as his Vice President stood before him, and folded his hands. "Yes Anne, what is it?" "I want you to look at what you've done to me," she said with irritation in her voice, pulling open her sweater and revealing her breasts. "Look at these poor things." Anne wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts hung before him, her nipples starting to perk in the draft of the air conditioner. "See what you've done to them." "Anne, they look wonderful. I don't understand why you want to show me this. . ." he said, turning his head aside. "Good God, Jeff, why so shy? You've looked at them every Tuesday night for two months. What's the big deal now? See these lines on the side?" He looked back seriously. "Yes, there's a little more sag than before." "They're bigger, you've made them bigger. I can't wear a bra any more, you've made them sore too often. I used to jog every morning, can't do that now." She palmed them and lifted them up, her nipples just an inch in front of his face. "Now I have to worry about how much the jiggle when I walk, whether they're going to turn on the garbage man or the bum on the street or the dirty old men at the Potsdam Bible Church. And look at this." She pinched his nipples and held them up, swinging them a little. "I have doorknobs on the end of my breasts now. Big hangers, thanks to your clamps and tit sucking." She shook them a little more by her nipples, then let them fall to bounce a little. "I used to have nice, pert titties, and you've made them floppy old hangers." "Hangers? Where did you see that word?" She ignored his question and Jeff shook his head. "I don't understand, Anne. You're complaining because your breasts are bigger? Some women pay top money to increase their bra size." "They used to be tighter." "You're getting older, Anne. These things happen. Ever think of that?" "You men are all alike. To perverts like you, these poor things are a playground. I imagine in your mind's eye I'm no good for anything other than going down to the Dreamweaver's club and pole dancing every night." Jeff spread his palms. "If you want to, Anne, if you want to. After tonight, your time is your own. I don't understand what your problem is." She stamped her foot and crossed her arms in front of her. "You're ruining me." "Button up, Anne. Look, any ruining is your fault: you've ruined yourself and these are part of the consequences. In a few weeks, your tits probably won't hurt and you can wear your bras again, maybe buy them a little bigger if you have to. Time moves on and people forget. Take your punishment like a big girl and be done with it." "And speaking of punishment, what unspeakable things do you perverts have in mind tonight? Going to hang some weights from the nipple clamps this time? Going to put clothespins all the way up and down my arms as well as my ass? Maybe a good, old fashioned branding so I'll be your little heifer from now on?" Shaking his head and closing his eyes, Jeff sighed. "Anne, you know that telling you in advance will spoil the fun for us." She snorted and tossed her head. "God only knows you have to have fun while you humiliate and mock me. God forbid you shouldn't have fun when I suck your cock and swallow that stuff that comes out the end." "You know you accepted this punishment rather than be led away in handcuffs to the county jail and stand trial for several felonies and misdemeanors. You might get out of jail in time to retire if we go that route. If you don't want any more of this abuse, I can pick up the phone and call the cops." "Damn you, Jeffrey Allen North, damn you. You're so cruel, if I knew you were this cruel in High School, I would have told Glenda never to marry you." "I wish you'd told her not to marry me in the first place," he murmured to himself. Turning around, she started to walk out the door, then suddenly remembered she was going into public view with her breasts exposed. Her frantic fingers redid her buttons, and she sighed in exasperation twice before she finished and returned to the real world. Jeff looked at the financial reports and shook his head. "I'll never understand women," he said under his breath. She arrived at the Elks Club at 9:00 PM, and was lead into the room with the semi circle of masked, robed figures standing in front of her. On the floor was a small platform with a white appliance on a tripod. "What's this?" she asked. No one replied. After waiting a moment, she spread her hands, shrugged her shoulders and started unbuttoning her green sweater. "Either you tell me or you don't, guess I can live with it." Quickly and efficiently, she divested herself of her clothing and stood completely naked in front of her enemies. "Where do you want my hands?" A voice from the side commanded: "Kneel." "Kneel? And what?" "Just kneel where indicated." She did as ordered, noticing a mat had been provided and she didn't have to kneel on the bare concrete floor as she did in the past. A blindfold was slipped over her eyes and she folded her hands on her head as she had before. The tripod was moved so the bulb of the appliance was in direct contact with her slit. There was a long period of waiting, she trembled in anticipation of the first move. Five minutes passed before a tentative touch on her side made her flinch. It returned a couple of times before tracing her ribcage, making her quiver. The finger sailed down her breast, circling her areola before returning to her side and moving up to her armpit. Anne smiled and strived to control herself, not wanting to laugh out loud as the ticklish sensations. A finger landed on her other side and traced the opposite ribcage, working up to the other armpit and down the breast. "When does the pain start?" she asked out loud, and got no answer. A click and hum, and she gasped as the appliance between her legs started vibrating. "What the hell is this?" she asked. "You've never heard of a vibrator?" "Ahh, that's one of Satan's toys, isn't it?" "You should know about Satan's toys." Her lips started moving back and forth over her teeth with her mouth wide open, as the effects of the vibrator caused a response in her body. The fingers tormenting her flattened into hands and began stroking her sides. Her body shook, and a faint glistening appeared on the skin of her crotch in the dim light. She rocked forward and backward, and two more hands clasped her shoulders to keep her in contact with the vibrator. Incoherent gibbering escaped her lips, which increased in sound and intensity over the next three minutes until they reached the hight of a crescendo. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" she screamed at the top of her lungs and went out of control as a massive orgasm racked her body. It lasted a long time, and the four hands supported her, keeping her from falling over. Anne's mouth opened and closed quickly, drool escaping from the corner, and her wailing drowned out the buzz of the device giving her pleasure. She came down and the vibrator was switched off. Panting heavily, she wound down, speechless for several moments, drenched with sweat. Finally, she came to her senses. "That was nice. Don't know whether to thank you or curse you. When does the pain start?" With a click, a pair of handcuffs fixed her hands above her head. "Here it comes. Guess you're going to mangle my tits again." There was another long silence as she sat on her heels. Anne licked her lips and waiting, shivering a little, and took a couple of deep breaths. "All right, must you make me wait again? When does the pain start, you bastards?" The voice said: "Now," and the vibrator switched on again at a higher speed. Two more pairs of hands put themselves on Anne's body and they all started tickling relentlessly, slowly at first, and making her laugh and giggle until she rode the roller coaster to another trip to the summit. A hand pushed the vibrator more tightly against her crotch as she came closer to her goal and the hands worked hard to keep her under control as the second orgasm hit her. She wailed and shouted her fresh climax, her senses lost to everything else. Everyone let go of her and she rested a moment, her breath coming in huge gasps. "My God, that's never happened to me before. My God, my God, my God. Why, why? Oh my God! Why did you do this to me tonight? Shit!" "Again," ordered the voice of command. "No, no, no," she wailed, but the hands returned to her flesh again. This time, they stroked her long body, stroked her breasts and gently milked her nipples, teased her thighs, traced her ass crack on both sides. The vibrator switched on again, first at a low speed, then moving up and down in frequency. "Why the hell don't you whip me again?" she wailed, as she was molested with gentility. Her breath came in gasps, she responded to every soft touch, lost herself in every squeeze. They lifted her up again and more quickly than the last time, their touch and the wildly accelerating vibrator took her to a third orgasm, a painful orgasm, that wrung her back and forth until she was totally spent. The figure approached again and made a gesture at his thigh. The penis landed on her cheek, and without prompting, she sought it with her tongue, running it over and around the head. Then she sucked it into her mouth, taking it all the way to the base several times before working on the end in her mouth. It didn't take long before the robed figure gasped; a little whiteness leaked from the corner of her mouth as she swallowed everything the man's long orgasm gave her. Her blindfold was ripped off while the cock was still in her mouth and she looked up into the eyes of her husband. Dave Thiman looked down and held her head in place. "Hello, Annie. Just keep it in there for now. It's a good way to get you to listen to a few things." The room was perfectly silent, and all the robed figures were motionless. "All these years you told me good Christian girls didn't do this, good Christian girls didn't suck cock. I knew you were wrong, but I put up with it. Until six years ago, we had a pretty good sex life, well, good if you count me doing all the work and you just laying there. Guess whose cock you've been sucking all these Tuesdays? Jeff North's? Barry Halls'? I would have been fine letting them make you do that. But my friend Jeff had a better idea. Why not let you make up to me all the years you've deprived me of this special wifely obedience? Thanks guys." "You're welcome," Jeff said quietly. "So for the past two months, you've been sucking my cock every Tuesday night. And it seems like you enjoy it. What a lucky man I am! Yes, Anne. Now I know you can do this, and there are circumstances where you will do it. I have witnesses and I have evidence. We've recorded every session." She looked up at him with big eyes, the head of his cock still in her mouth, his hand still holding her head in place. If her mouth hadn't been full, she would have been using her charismatic smile on him. Dave stroked her cheek, traced her chin, and gave her mouth a slight pump with his dick. "Here's the deal, Annie. I told you when the time was right, you could ask forgiveness and I'd take you back. If you don't want that, Jeff's worked out a transfer to another branch in St. Louis and you can start a new life by yourself. If you want to come back, be my wife again, you can say so when I pull out. Things will be different, I think you know how they'll be different: I will be the Master and you will the Slave, the way God meant it to be. And you'll be a honest employee of the bank once more: if you cheat them again, there will be no forgiveness for you. Understood?" She nodded, her mouth still full. He looked down, and pulled out of her mouth with a pop. "I beg your forgiveness, David. I will love you, honor you, obey you, serve you, all the days of my life. Take me back. Please, darling, please." Taking the key of the handcuffs out of his pocket, he released her and stood her up. His robe went around her body and he told her: "Let's go home." After they left, the bar opened and Barry sidled over to Jeff. "That's all very sentimental, Jeff, but what do you get out of the deal? Other than a Vice President who won't try to screw you anymore." "I get a shot at Clara," he murmured with a smile on his face. "What?" "Dave said it would be very Biblical, and he'd rather I take a shot at his daughter than any random young stud out there. After all, I am an Elder in the Presbyterian Church. She's eighteen, almost nineteen, disdains every boy under the age of 30, and is definitely not a lesbian. If she's anything like her mother, it'll be fantastic." "But Jeff, what about your wife?" "She's gone, Glenda left yesterday. About time." Barry shook his head, and sipped his drink. "How're you going to do this?" "Money parts a lot of legs. I've made a lot of good investments, and I think I'll make a great Sugar Daddy. I surely have the bankroll to try." There was a commotion in the room, and Fern Davis was standing on a table getting everyone's attention. "Boys, this has been fun, and I'm sure you want to continue our little Tuesday night games." "How?" Barry asked. "We no longer have a guest of dishonor?" She flipped her black dress over her head and stood naked in front of them. "Me. Spank me."