Thursday, 3 April 2014

Thursday, April 03, 2014 -

Clare's Corporal Punishment Weekend

by J Wackford Colton
Published: Feb 20, 2014
Words: 24,753
Category: general
Orientation: M/F
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Clare's Corporal Punishment Weekend

Clare Rogers leant back from her desk and computer screen feeling very pleased with herself. She had just completed a highly complicated currency transaction involving Euros. At one time she was showing losses amounting to millions - which would have resulted in her being abruptly fired and her reputation in tatters. However, in the end she closed the deal showing a very handsome profit. This would add a few noughts to her year end bonus, which was already looking very healthy. Last year her bonus had helped her move to a very smart apartment in Fulham.

"Next year?" she mused. "Chelsea? Maybe even Belgravia or Knightsbridge..." Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp ring on her phone. "Clare Rogers," she answered. The disagreeable voice of Mrs Summerson, the CEO's PA came on.

"Mr Manners wants to see you immediately. Don't be late!" And with that she slammed the phone down.

Clare sighed, and addressed her neighbour. "Would you mind the shop for me Kevin? God wants to see me."

"Sure thing, Clary Baby."

"And no poaching my clients!"

"Now would I do such an ungentlemanly thing?" Kevin replied innocently.

Wouldn't you just! Clare thought to herself as she made her way to the lift which would take her up to the top floor. Not for the first time she knew the dealing floor consisted of a lot of sharks waiting to pounce at the first sight of blood. At the same time, she was a mite concerned at the reason for her summons. Guy Manners, the CEO of Charnley Wilton Merchant Bank very rarely summoned his staff for a pat on the back. Usually the blow was administered much further down.

"Well you took your time," Mrs Summerson rasped as Clare walked into the outer office.

"Do I take it I'm to go straight in?" Clare asked, wondering not for the first time, why, when he had the pick of all the best PA's around, he should have picked this bad tempered old bat.

"Well, you've kept him waiting long enough! And don't spend all afternoon wittering. He's very busy today!"

Clare walked in to the office and Guy Manners, a good looking forty year-old, stood up and waved her to a settee. He then moved over to sit on an adjacent chair.

"I've been hearing great things about you, Clare. Adrian, your section head is delighted with your progress, and a little bird tells me you have completed a very juicy transaction today, which will benefit both you and the bank greatly."

"Thank you Mr Manners. I had a few anxious moments but it all came out good in the end."

"Oh, call me Guy, please!" he said with an expansive smile, "But I'm not the only one who has been most impressed by your abilities. I think you met Boris Ulyanovic last week. He's been singing your praises to the heavens!"

Clare certainly remembered him. A large and unbelievably wealthy Russian, who had taken advantage of the fall of communism to acquire oil wells and steel works at knock down prices. "Yes. Adrian and I took him out to lunch last week."