by Jacqueline Scott
It was after eight o'clock at night but in the executive suite of offices at the major bank, one light still shone brightly. Inside, Jane Anderson, Director of Retail Operations, was sitting at her desk staring at a letter on her computer screen. She had drafted it and re-drafted it many times over the last two hours but she remained uncertain as to whether or not it conveyed the meaning that she intended.
Normally she was very decisive and would never have taken as long as this over a simple letter. However, this was different. It was nothing to do with her work. It was personal, intensely personal. So personal in fact that she was still unsure as to whether or not she should send it. In fact she had shredded several copies already that evening. She stood up and went to the window, gazing out into the darkness. Eventually she turned and went back to her desk and read through again what she had written.
Dear Mr French
Forgive this formal approach but it seemed the easiest way to broach the subject with you. If you are reading this letter at all it means that our mutual acquaintance, Caroline, has persuaded you not to reject the whole matter out of hand. You will know, therefore, that Caroline has told me about your weekly arrangements. I hope you are not furious with her for that. I would hate to think of her poor bottom suffering because she had confided in me.
What I am about to write may be shocking to you. If it is and you wish to have nothing to do with me I will understand. All I ask is that you keep the matter totally confidential. Caroline has given me certain assurances in this regard but I am very much in your hands.
As Caroline will have explained, I hold a very senior position in one of our major companies. I wield a huge amount of power and every day many people do as I ask, mostly without question. Caroline of course comes into this category. I am comfortable with this power and have no difficulty in taking difficult decisions and backing up my own judgement.
So what, I hear you ask yourself. Many, many people do this every day. Yes, Mr French, they do. My problem, as will be the case with many others, is how to escape from these pressures sometimes. This is where my situation becomes unusual.
From time to time I feel a deep need to be treated as if I was the subordinate and not the boss.
Furthermore, I crave to be treated harshly and humiliated. If you agree to meet me then I can describe these needs in greater detail. Suffice to say at this stage that I would happily accept the sort of experiences that you inflict on Caroline - and more.
As a single woman in Edinburgh it is not easy to find an outlet for these needs. You sound ideal from what Caroline tells me. The needs are irregular - I am not looking to meet every week - and again we might discuss how they might be met and organised.
So there you are Mr French. I have confessed a dark secret to you. Can you help? Will you be willing to meet with me and see if we can take this matter forward?
Yours sincerely
She took a deep breath and signed the letter. She would give it to Caroline, her PA in the morning.
She had become very close to her over the past few months. An excellent Personal Assistant, Caroline had become someone with whom Jane felt she could discuss anything. Well, until recently she would have said 'almost everything'. However, one Friday evening a few weeks before, after a particularly difficult week, she found herself saying something she had never believed she would mention to another soul ... ever.
"God Caroline, this is a bloody awful job sometimes!"
Her PA smiled and went to the cabinet that held a small supply of drinks.
"You need a drink?"
"Yes ... a great big one too. Pour yourself one as well of course."
They talked for quite some time about the week that had just gone and life in general before Jane had found herself saying, "You know something, Caroline, sometimes I envy you. Sometimes I long to just take orders and do as I'm told." She paused for a minute or so but her Assistant sensed that there was something else to come and remained silent. "In fact, Caroline ... and I know you will never repeat this to anyone ... sometimes I wish somebody would treat me like a child and have complete control over me. Not really like a child, I suppose. Do what they wanted with me ... oh God I don't know what I'm trying to say. Just different from this constant pressurised decision- making situations I always seem to be in these days. And I know it's silly because I get a buzz from the pressure situations most of the time, but sometimes ... oh I don't know. I'm not making any sort of sense."
"I think I understand." Caroline looked at her boss curiously. She had seen her in action in meetings often enough and had watched as she had demolished the arguments of other executives who had brought ill-thought out ideas to the meeting. Jane had a sharp, almost forensic ability to cut through problems and see what the true issues were. Now here she was muttering about being controlled by others. After a little while she spoke, hesitantly. "Do you really mean that Jane?"
As her boss's head came up to look at her sharply, she coloured before continuing. "I mean ... well I'm not sure what I mean ... but maybe I should tell you a secret as you have told one to me." She took a deep breath, acutely aware of Jane's eyes on her. "I know someone. I have done for a little while now ... in fact when I was growing up he was a close friend of my parents ... he still is a friend of theirs in fact. Well, I met him at a party some time ago and we sort of got chatting about some things and .... well there is no easy way to explain this ... he spanks me regularly."
"Spanks you? As in puts you over his lap and spanks you with his hand?"
Caroline was scarlet now but she nodded. "Yes, and more - he uses other things too. I just sort of wondered ... I'm sure it's silly, but if you really meant what you said ... I could ask him?"
Jane stared at her PA for what seemed like ages, but to the latter's amazement she didn't dismiss the matter out of hand. She asked a little more about it and then announced that it was time they both went home. On the Monday, however, at the end of the working day, she asked Caroline to stay behind for a little while and asked more about this man, who he was, what he did, was he able to be discreet, etc. Following that discussion Jane had decided to write this letter.
She gave Caroline the letter the following morning as planned. She was meeting the man that Friday evening and so it would be the weekend, or more likely the following week before she heard anything else. In fact her phone rang around 9.30 on the Friday evening. It was Caroline to say that Mr French had not thrown the idea out, would certainly respect fully the confidential nature of the information that he had now been given, but that he needed more time to think about it. She knew that was understandable but was slightly disappointed as it left her feeling in limbo as it were. She tried to forget about it over the weekend but an image of herself being thrashed by a man kept coming to her. She had tried to analyse this need many times but could find no reason for it. She could find nothing in her past that she could possibly imagine had left her with a latent desire to be controlled in such a way. Yes, her mother had spanked her from time to time but these had been the usual childhood punishments. Her mother had died when Jane was only ten and she had spent her teenage years at a boarding school and with an aunt, but again anything that she had experienced had been punishments for doing something wrong and which she accepted, even at the time, as being merited and indeed necessary. No - what she felt now was completely different.
Fortunately the following week at work was as frantic as usual and she hardly noticed the lack of news on that front from her PA. At nights though, especially after she had gone to bed, she still wondered with a frisson of excitement. When ten o'clock came on that Friday evening without word she assumed that the answer was 'no' as she thought Caroline was meeting this Mr French again that evening. Then around 10.30 the phone rang.
"Jane, it's Caroline. I'm sorry to phone so late but I knew you would want to hear this. Matthew, Mr French, wants to discuss what you asked him ... you know. Anyway he thinks you should meet. Are you free tomorrow just after lunch? You can meet at my flat if you want."
So, just before two o'clock Jane climbed the stairs to Caroline's flat in Marchmont wondering what she was getting herself in for. The frisson of excitement had fled and been replaced by something more like panic. Did she really want to be humiliated by a total stranger? The logical part of her brain told her very clearly not to be silly ... to pull herself together and accept life as it was. Another part, however, still nagged away expressing the opposite view. 'You won't know until you try ... you can always say no ... you won't rest until you find out.' The latter part had won the argument for now at least, and indeed had won it at soon as she had handed Caroline the letter.
So she had dressed carefully for this meeting - smart but casual she thought would be appropriate. She had been in Caroline's flat once before and her PA had left everything neat and tidy with a note as to where tea and coffee could be found, and mentioning that there was a bottle of white wine in the fridge. She had time for a quick check around and then the doorbell rang. She opened the door to a man who quickly introduced himself as Matthew French. She ushered him through to Caroline's living room and asked if wanted a cup of tea or coffee. He declined and they sat down opposite each other, each clearly sizing the other up. She saw a man in his 50s of medium height and build with light brown hair greying at the temples and a pleasant smile. He saw a striking lady - very tall (in fact she was 5'10") and slim. She had dark hair, fashionably cut and he thought she was probably in her late 30s or early 40s. After a few pleasantries he suggested that they discussed the matter that had brought them both together and confirmed that she was assured that he would treat anything that occurred with total confidence. Jane nodded and smiled, a little pink in the cheeks, and thanked him for that.
"How do you want to start?"
"Well, I have a number of questions to ask, but perhaps you might wish to start by expanding a little on your letter, where you wrote, 'To be treated harshly and humiliated'. Please don't be embarrassed by anything, but I need to know a little more about what you mean by that."
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