A new business needs all the new customers it can get, but there’s a surprise in store. By a new writer to us.

By Lynn Mathers

“Thanks for helping me out, Megan, especially at such short notice.”

“No problem, Cathy. To be honest, I’m glad of a little extra income. Although Bob’s working every hour he can get, I’ve found it hard to find a job and money’s tight. Where are we going, by the way?”

“Wendlethorpe. It’s a small town about thirty miles from here.”

Catherine Peterson checked both their seatbelts were fastened, set the sat-nav and started the small Suzuki van.

“We did pack everything, didn’t we?” Megan frowned.

“I’m certain we did. I ticked everything off against my list anyway.”

“Okay, you’re to blame if we forgot anything!” Cathy joked.

“How’s the business going, Cathy? I’m really impressed with how you started this catering business up from scratch.”

“Yeah, not too bad, thanks. It’s still a struggle finding new customers but I’m starting to show a profit at last.”

“This is a new customer we’re going to now, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Some sort of club meeting, I think.”

“What sort of club?”

“I’m not sure. The guy who booked me was a bit cagey. A cricket club maybe? The meeting is supposed to be over an empty shop. He said we needed to be broad-minded and discreet. Actually, he sounded quite old so maybe it’s a bowling club.”

“And we’re broad-minded and discreet, are we?”

“Listen, he accepted my quote without hesitation, the food they’re asking for isn’t difficult and it isn’t that far away. What’s a little discretion between friends?”

The two women chatted away throughout the journey until the sat-nav voice told them they had arrived.

Cathy stopped the van outside a shop in a small parade of shops.

“This one looks empty.” She checked the address. “Yup, 34 Anscombe Terrace. We’re here.”

While Megan slid open the van’s side door and sorted out some boxes ready to carry inside, Cathy rang the doorbell of the flat above the shop. After a few moments, a silver-haired man answered.

“Mr Arnold? I’m Cathy from CP Catering. We’re doing the catering for your meeting.”

“Of course, so you are.” The man replied in a crisply distinct voice. “I’ll leave the door open for you, if you’d like to bring your stuff upstairs?”

Ten minutes later, they were installed in the kitchen of the two-floor flat over the shop.

“Shall I put the kettle on?” Megan asked in friendly fashion.

“Not for me,” Mr Arnold replied. “But do please help yourselves. I’ve a few things still to sort out upstairs. There’s some tables laid out for you in the front room, the back room is to be used as a changing room.”

“A changing room?” Megan asked when Mr Arnold was safely out of earshot. “Do they have change for their club meeting?”

“I don’t know,” Cathy answered. Let’s have a little look around.

The kitchen opened out onto a landing between the stairs they’d come up and a further flight up to the top floor. Megan cautiously opened the first door on the left.

“Yep, that’s a changing room alright.” She opened the door wider so Cathy could see inside.

There were two dressing tables with their own mirrors against one wall, a table and several chairs. The room appeared to have been redecorated fairly recently, but none too carefully.

“Let’s look at the dining room.” Cathy suggested.

They went next door, to the room at the front of the building. It, too, was sparsely decorated and contained little more than five tables placed against the walls of the room.

“I’ll get the table cloths.” Cathy said. It’ll look nicer and we can lay the plates and stuff out ready.”

“Good idea, that kitchen isn’t exactly spacious. We’ll need all the room we’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, the front room looked much more attractive with everything laid out except for the food.

The doorbell rang.

“Should we be answering it?” Megan asked.

The clattering of footsteps on the stairs from the top floor suggested otherwise, confirmed when Mr Arnold passed them and continued down the flight of stairs to the front door. Mr Arnold and another man soon came back up the stairs, both carrying large cardboard boxes.

“The wine.” Mr Arnold explained as he headed for the front dining room. “This is Mr Pilchard.”

Megan stifled a giggle as the new arrival, a younger man, perhaps in his mid-forties, with light brown hair, struggled past with the second heavy box.

“I’ll leave you to display the wine, Mrs Peterson.” Mr Arnold called along the hallway. “Come upstairs, Tom. There’s a couple of desks I need a hand with.”

“Righto Jack.”

“Glad we’ve got smoked salmon for the vol au vents,” Megan sniggered. “Tinned pilchards could have been a bit awkward!”

“Shush! They’ll hear you!” Cathy warned.

The doorbell rang again. Both women froze, waiting for someone to come down from upstairs.

“Could you answer that please, Mrs Peterson?” The younger male voice called down.

“Okay.”

Cathy answered the door and returned with two men and three young women in their late teens or early twenties in tow.

“Charles, Eddie! Welcome. Come on up.”

Everyone looked up and saw Mr Arnold leaning over the banister rail.

“Girls, the changing room is that door there.”

“Any chance of a cuppa?” The first girl, with long blond wavy hair smiled at Cathy.

“Of course. Milk and sugar?”

“Please. girls?”

“Milk, one sugar for me.” Said one girl as she flicked her long dark hair back. “I’m Karen, by the way. This is Jeannie, and this is Nicky.”

“Could I have a weak milky coffee, please?” The second blond girl smiled by way of an introduction.

The three girls, all towing wheeled suitcases, went into the changing room.

Within a few moments, the doorbell had rung several times and several other men and two women had arrived. Cathy busied herself fixing hot drinks for the girls and then called up: “Mr Arnold, ladies, gentlemen, would you like tea or coffee?”

“That would be splendid, thank you. Please have them ready and one of us will bring them upstairs.”

Cathy and Megan spent the next few minutes getting the teas and coffees prepared and collected before they were able to pause and catch their breath.

“Nice coffee, thank you Mrs Peterson.” Mr Arnold and another man in his late twenties or early thirties brought their cups back downstairs. Cathy took the trays from them, before Mr Arnold poked his head into the changing room.

“We’re ready when you are, girls.”

“Two minutes!” One of the three girls called back.

As Cathy and Megan looked out through the open door of the kitchen, Jeannie led the two other girls out of the changing room and up the stairs. They were all dressed in tight-fitting black leggings and white blouses with collars.

“They look smart.” Megan commented.

“That reminds me,” Cathy stopped peeling a tomato as she spoke. “They want us to dress in black wrap-around skirts and white blouses when we serve the buffet lunch.”

“Er, you might have told me, Cathy! I haven’t got a black wrap-around skirt, although I have brought a white blouse, thankfully.”

“Don’t worry, I bought a couple specially.”

“Oh, okay. What time do we have to serve lunch?”

“Somewhen around two o’clock. They’re going to tell us exactly when. It probably depends on how their meeting goes.”

Megan carried on slicing several cucumbers while Cathy continued with the tomatoes. A faint tapping sound caught Megan’s attention. She paused, thought for a moment and then continued. The tapping stopped, but then started up again shortly afterwards.

“What is that sound?”

“What sound?” Cathy asked.

“That tapping sound; surely you can hear it.”

“Um, I don’t know. It could be… anything.”

“It keeps stopping after several minutes and then starts up again.” Megan said.

“Yes, have you finished the cucumbers?” Cathy responded, more interested in their food preparation.

“Yes, I’ve put them in the salad cold box. What is that sound?”

“Good, can you do the boiled eggs now?”

The two women continued with their work for a while until high-heeled shoes started clip-clopping down the stairs. Jeannie, Karen and Nicky returned to the changing room next to the kitchen.

Megan whispered into Cathy’s ear. “They were rubbing their bums!”

“So?”

“They’ve been spanked! That’s what that tapping sound was!”

“Don’t be so silly, Megan. How are the eggs coming along?”

“Almost done, and I’m not being silly. I’m sure they were being spanked up there. What sort of a meeting did you say this was?”

“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t know what sort of a meeting it is. Not exactly, anyway.”

“Not exactly?”

“No, well, Mr Arnold did specify we be discreet and, um, broad-minded, but I’m sure you’re just being ridiculous. Can you get the ham nicely displayed on one of the large plates when you’ve done the eggs?”

Megan carried on preparing the food, but kept a careful eye on the door of the changing room.

Ten minutes later, the changing room door opened and the three girls re-emerged.

“Look!” Megan whispered in Cathy’s ear. “See!”

Cathy looked round, and couldn’t help her eyes widening. Jeannie, Karen and Nicky were heading back upstairs, all dressed in a neat school uniform.

“Well, perhaps Mr Arnold is running some sort of clothing company.” Cathy struggled. “Perhaps the girls are models showing off the stock to some potential customers.”

“Yeah, right!”

“Look, you don’t know…”

Upstairs, a whoosh preceded a sharp crack, followed very quickly by a shrill ‘ouch’ from one of the girls.

“So, what do you think that might be, then?” Megan stood with her hands on her hips.

“Um, well it could be…”

Cathy was interrupted by another whoosh, crack and a squeal.

“Naughty schoolgirls getting their bottoms smacked? Was that what you were going to say, Cathy?”

Cathy Peterson didn’t answer. She simply stood and listened with Megan.

After several minutes had passed, with distinct and prolonged sounds of bottoms being caned, Cathy returned to the food preparation.

“I think we’re about there, aren’t we?” Megan stated as she looked around. “Just got to keep things cool until we dish up.”

“Yep,” Cathy agreed. “What time is it? Almost a quarter to two? They shouldn’t be long now.”

No sooner had she spoken than the clip-clop of heels and the heavier sound of other footsteps on the stairs brought them both to readiness.

The three girls, Jeannie, Karen and Nicky, led the way, but they were closely followed by Mr Arnold and Tom Pilchard.

“Whenever you’re ready, Mrs Peterson. We’ll take lunch now. Are you ready for us?”

“Um, yes, just about, Mr Arnold.” Cathy answered. “We’ve been keeping most of it in cool boxes so it doesn’t spoil. It’ll only take a couple of minutes to get things on the table.”

“Splendid, Mrs Peterson! You’re doing us proud.”

“I’ll start taking things through.” Megan said, and managed to balance three large plates as she went towards the dining room.

Cathy continued taking stuff out of the cool boxes and plating up.

“Any chance of a glass of water? I’m gasping.” Cathy looked up and saw Nicky hovering.

“Yes, of course.” She took a glass and filled it with water.

“Any ice?” Nicky asked as Cathy went back to the food.

“In the fridge. Help yourself.”

“Okay.” Nicky, still wearing the school uniform, bent down to delve inside the small refrigerator. When she straightened, Cathy appeared to still be concentrating on the food.

By the time Megan returned for more platefuls of food, Nicky was back in the changing room.

“You were right.” Cathy whispered to her colleague.

“About?”

“I just saw Nicky getting some ice out of the fridge, and her skirt rode up. She’s got some nasty looking red lines across her bottom and upper thighs. I think she’s been caned!”

“We’re discreet and broad-minded, aren’t we?” Megan smiled smugly as she took some more plates through to the dining room.

By this time, several more people had clomped down the stairs and the small dining room was becoming full.

“Come on, girls, I’m starving!” Jeannie said as she emerged from the dressing room.

Cathy saw from the kitchen that pretty well everyone was now in the dining room, and Megan had yet to return for more plates of food. To keep things going, she picked up three large plates herself and went through to the dining room. Inside, people were milling around and already starting to help themselves to the buffet lunch.

“The food’s going down well,” Megan remarked as she passed Cathy in the hallway as they ferried more plates of food through to the dining room.

“That’s true,” Cathy answered, mopping her brow. “I just remembered, we were supposed to change into white blouses and the black wrap-around skirts.”

“Shall we do that now?”

“No time! Just keep the food going and hope they don’t notice.”

“Okay.”

It took little more than another ten minutes for the people in the dining room to consume the food that had taken all morning to prepare.

“I’ll get the kettle on in case anyone wants coffee.” Cathy said. “Megan, can you start bringing empty plates out and start the washing up?”

“Sure thing.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Nicky said as she noticed Megan begin piling up the plates.

“Thanks.”

Back in the kitchen, Megan filled the sink with hot water and a good squeeze of washing up liquid.

“Does the meeting go on much longer?” Megan asked as she piled plates into the sink.

“Meeting? That’s a good word!” Nicky joked.

“Er, we understood it was some sort of club meeting.” Megan explained.

“A club meeting? That’s even better!” Nicky started drying the washed plates.

“So, it isn’t a club meeting?”

“More of a party, I’d say. They have one of these little get-togethers about once a month.”

“And they…” Megan couldn’t think of a good way to ask.

“Smack our bottoms? Is that what you were going to say?” Nicky giggled.

“Um…” Megan continued to struggle. “So, what exactly happens up there, then?”

“They usually get three or four girls in, then we have to dress up in character. Today, we’ve been dishonest secretaries and been spanked, and naughty schoolgirls and caned. This afternoon we’re going to be gymnasts who haven’t tried hard enough, then there’ll be a little time for people to act out any little scenarios that takes their fancy, maybe make arrangements for one-to-one sessions at a later date.”

“Oh. Oops!” Megan almost dropped a pile of plates handed to her by Cathy, who immediately went back for more.

“And you get paid, obviously?”

“You bet! Jeannie gets the most because she organises the girls, but Karen and I get £150 each.”

“For one day’s work?”

Nicky gently closed Megan’s gaping mouth. “And a very sore bottom, darling. Why, want to try? Jeannie’s always looking for new girls.”

“Oh, I really don’t think… Anyway, I’d be too old.”

“Maybe a bit past the schoolgirl bit, darling, but you’d make a yummy naughty secretary.”

“Have you got the coffee ready, Megan?” Cathy brought the last of the plates through.

“Yes, all ready to go.” Megan indicated three full jugs. “I’ll start bringing them through.”

Ten minutes later, people started drifting back upstairs. Jeannie, Karen and Nicky went back in the dressing room.

“It is a spanking party!” Megan declared as Cathy helped her with the last of the cups and saucers. “I’ve been talking to Nicky.”

“So I saw. I suppose it’s none of our business really. My main worry is making sure we get paid okay.”

“I don’t think they’re short of a bob or two. Nicky said she’s getting £150 for the day’s work.”

“Catering not good enough for you now?” Cathy teased.

“It doesn’t pay as well!” Megan countered. “Unless you were thinking of upping my wages.”

“I wasn’t, so perhaps you should go upstairs with the other girls, if you fancy that sort of thing.”

They were interrupted by the three girls leaving the changing room, Nicky in a black leotard, Karen in tiny pink shorts and white crop-top and Jeannie in looser blue shorts and white T-shirt.

“Do you think they’ll want more coffee?” Megan asked.

“I don’t know. They’ve certainly worked their way through the wine.”

“I’ll put the kettle on. Can’t hurt to be ready in case they do.”

“How much longer is this meeting, er, party going on for, I wonder.” Cathy started arranging some more clean cups and saucers on a tray.

“Apparently there’s one more organised session where the girls are posing as naughty gymnasts or something, then it’s a bit of a free-for-all.”

Amid much giggling and laughter, the distinct sounds of several girls being spanked came down from upstairs. Soon, though, one or two of the men started drifting back downstairs.

“Any chance of some coffee?” One polite man asked as he stood by the open door of the dining room.

“Certainly,” Cathy answered. “Go in, I’ll bring it through.”

It was the work of a few moments to take several cups, saucers, jug of coffee, milk and sugar through.

“Good meeting?” Cathy smiled as she poured the coffee.

“Oh, um, er, yes.” A shy young man answered. “I’m sorry, this is my first time to, er, one of these, um, you know.”

“Perhaps we’ll see you again soon.” Cathy smiled and headed back to the kitchen, aware of several pairs of eyes focusing on her bottom.

Within the space of another ten minutes, pretty well everyone was back downstairs and soon started drifting off out of the building. Jeannie, Karen and Nicky entered their dressing room.

Once most of the visitors had left, Mr Arnold tapped on the door and went into the dressing room with the girls. Cathy and Megan could faintly hear conversation amongst bouts of laughter. Then Mr Arnold emerged.

“Ah, Mrs Peterson. Could I settle up with you, please?”

“Certainly Mr Arnold. I’ve printed off two copies of the account for you. I hope everything was to your satisfaction.”

Mr Arnold looked at the final figure on the account, took a wad of banknotes from his jacket pocket and started counting.

“The food was excellent, Mrs Peterson. Simply excellent.”

“I’ll second that!” Tom Pilchard was standing, slightly the worse for wear, along the hallway.

“Oh good!” Cathy beamed as she watched the bank notes being counted out.

“In fact, there was just one problem, Mrs Peterson.” Mr Arnold stopped counting. “I believe that settles your account, Mrs Peterson, with a little bonus for the outstanding quality of the food.”

“Thank you. A problem, Mr Arnold?”

“Dress code, Mrs Peterson. Dress code. We did, did we not, specify you would both wear black skirts and white blouses, not jeans. And what were you wearing throughout the service?”

“Um, jeans. Sorry, Mr Arnold, we were going to change but then everyone started wanting the food, so we just carried on getting them served as quickly as possible.

“Excuses, Mrs Peterson, excuses. Tut-tut!” A feeble smile on Mr Arnold’s face made it hard for Cathy to gauge just how serious a telling-off she was getting.

“A good hiding, I think, Mr Arnold.” Tom Pilchard called, in an obvious state of tipsiness.

Cathy blushed bright crimson, just as Jeannie and the other girls emerged from the dressing room.

“Who’s getting a hiding?” Karen asked, her eyes shining.

“I was just pointing out to Mrs Peterson that we had asked for her and Megan to serve us whilst dressed in black skirts and white blouses.” Mr Arnold explained.

“Much nicer than the jeans.” Nicky said.

“Have you paid her in full?” Jeannie asked.

“Yes, of course.” Mr Arnold replied. “After all, the food was excellent. Definitely the best caterer we’ve had.”

“And will she do the catering for us in future?” Jeannie eyes strayed between Cathy and Megan.

“Oh, yes, we’d be happy to, wouldn’t we Megan?” Cathy answered.

“Definitely.”

“That’s easy then.” Jeannie declared. “They pay a little forfeit for not wearing proper dress, and we’ve got ourselves a new caterer.”

“A forfeit?” Cathy said uncertainly.

“Come with me!” Jeannie took Cathy by the wrist and led her towards the stairs.

Nicky took Megan’s arm, leaving Karen, Mr Arnold and Tom Pritchard to follow.

The three bedrooms upstairs had been knocked through to form one large L-shaped room with chairs and other pieces of furniture dotted about. Towards the further side of the room, two old-fashioned school desks stood side by side. Cathy and Megan found themselves deposited in front of them.

“Come on, girls, jeans down and bend over!” Jeannie announced.

“Look, I’m really not sure…” Cathy stuttered.

“But you do want to cater for us again, don’t you?” Jeannie spoke in a begging tone. “We love your food and we really like you.”

“Well, yes, but, I mean…” Cathy mumbled.

“Why don’t you show her the way, Megan?” Nicky asked. “You know you want to.”

Megan glared at Nicky.

Nicky simply nodded towards the first of the two desks.

“Oh, all right!”

Megan quickly fumbled with her jeans, releasing the button and sliding the zip down.

“Come on, get ‘em down!” Jeannie encouraged, a huge smile on her face.

“Okay! Don’t be so impatient!” Megan gave her jeans a push downwards and they ended up around her ankles.

“Bend over!”

“Okay!”

With Megan bending across the old school desk, everyone’s attention passed to Cathy.

“Well Cathy?”

“Well what, Jeannie?”

“Um, I don’t think it’s terribly good form to let one’s staff do what one isn’t prepared to do, Mrs Peterson.” Mr Arnold interjected.

“Does that apply to you too, Jack?” Jeannie asked, smiling.

“Behave yourself, girl!” Mr Arnold said abruptly. “Otherwise you’ll soon be across that desk yourself!”

“He’s so masterful!” Jeannie sighed. “Come on, Cathy. Treat it as a sort of initiation.”

“Oh, very well!”

Finally, Cathy unfastened her own jeans and slid them down.

“Well done.” Jeannie congratulated her. “Now bend over and get ready to take your spanking.”

With both Megan and Cathy bent across the two old school desks, Cathy found herself being spanked rather more firmly than she’d hoped by Jeannie. Meanwhile, Nicky began a thorough spanking of Megan’s pale blue panty covered bottom.

After several minutes, Nicky’s duties were taken over by Karen and Jeannie’s by Mr Arnold.

“Ouch! That’s hurting!” Cathy cried out.

“A spanking is meant to, Mrs Peterson.” Mr Arnold replied. “Do you think it will help you remember our dress code in future, Mrs Peterson?”

“Ow!! Yes!! Please!!”

“You’re taking it all very quietly, Megan.” Karen remarked. “Perhaps you can make more of an impact, Tom.” She handed over the spanking to Tom Pilchard, while Mr Arnold gave way to another man.

After several minutes, a woman who had been hovering in the background stepped forward.

“Here, let me, Tom. You’re supposed to be spanking her not tapping her.

The woman, in her fifties and dressed in a heavy tweed suit, started raining good hard spanks onto Megan’s tender bottom.

“Ow!! Steady on!”

“Quiet, girl! Or I’ll take those pants down and tan your bare bottom for you!”

Megan decided it was better to stifle her moans and take the spanking.

“Come on, Eddie, you have a go.” Another man took over Cathy’s spanking.

Several minutes passed before everyone decided Cathy and Megan’s dress code violation had been suitably dealt with and they were released.

“Like it?” Nicky asked as she watched Megan pull her jeans up.

“I won’t be able to sit down for a week!” Megan gasped.

“You will, actually. Trust me, I’m a professional.”

“Splendid show, Mrs Peterson. Well done.” Mr Arnold added as Cathy, too, got dressed.

The End

© Lynn Mathers 2014