The Carrot and the Stick by C. P. Vanner

I’d forgotten all that until yesterday when I was over Dr Susskind’s knee.’
    Celeste kissed Beth’s nipple again. ‘How sweet you must have been.’
    Beth turned onto her side. ‘Now it’s your turn,’ she said, snuggling in to the other girl. With one hand she stroked the bare, slightly stubbly patch where Celeste’s pubic hair had been and idly squeezed together the lips of her sex.
    â€˜Must I?’ Celeste pouted. ‘That feels so good.’
    Beth eased her fingers away. ‘Yes, you must,’ she said with mock severity.
    Celeste reached for her hand and put it back where it had been. ‘Oh, all right,’ she said. ‘My story is not so sweet. It was not so long ago and I was slightly older than you were. It was my first proper sexual experience. It was humiliating, disgusting and... very, very exciting. I still think about it now, when I am alone, if you know what I mean.’
    Beth fingered Celeste’s clitoris. ‘You don’t need to be alone now,’ she purred.
    Celeste opened her legs wider. ‘Mmm, don’t stop,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I went to France as an au pair . It was a summer job, to improve my French. We did not know the family beforehand but my father and the other man both worked for the same company, so everyone assumed I would be safe and well looked after.
    â€˜They were quite a wealthy family with a big house outside Chartres. I think the wife, Colette, had money of her own. I liked them all. There was Colette, her husband, Alain, and two children, a boy of five and a girl of three. They treated me well and I had a good time. I like everything about the French.
    â€˜Alain was certainly arrogant but charming with it. He was about forty-five and very good-looking. He was away a lot and I spent most of my time with Colette and the kids. I was a sort of half-child, half-adult depending on whom I was with.
    â€˜My duties were not arduous but I did have to bath the children in the evening and put them to bed. By then Colette would be tired of them and was probably getting ready to go out. They were very sociable.
    â€˜After I had been there for two weeks, Colette went to Paris for a long weekend. Her favourite aunt lived there, probably the one with the money. Alain was around, but he was mad about polo and golf and I was largely in charge on my own. That first day I was due to go out in the evening, with another English girl I had met. We were going to try a local disco, and Alain had promised to be back early.
    â€˜The kids had been awkward and difficult all day. I think they missed their mother; she was not often away overnight. At bath time they were a real pain. They were all sorts of trouble and the final straw came when Maurice, the boy, was getting out of the bath. Quite spitefully he scooped up handfuls of soapy water and threw them all over me. I was all dressed up ready to go out, wearing my one sexy dress and with my hair done. I was soaked, a real mess.
    â€˜Well, I flipped. I pulled Maurice out of the bath and slapped him hard, twice. He howled, and because he was crying because of what I’d done, Saskia, the little one, started crying too.
    â€˜I was screaming at them in broken French, and they were both bawling. Just at the height of it I looked up and Alain was standing in the doorway, with a face like thunder. He had come in, heard the noise and come immediately upstairs.
    â€˜He sent me off to change, quieted the children, gave them supper and put them to bed himself. He wouldn’t let me help. When my friend came to pick me up he answered the door and told her that I would not be going out. He apologised and she went away; I heard it all from upstairs.
    â€˜Then he called me down to the sitting room. His English was better than my French. He told me to pack my bags, and that I would be leaving the next day. I protested, I got angry, I even cried, but he was inflexible. He