INSIDER DEALING by Alex Birch 'Tickets, please!'. The sharp tone brought Kate Humphries rapidly back to reality and she fumbled in her handbag for the season ticket which somehow always seemed infuriatingly to slip to the bottom. From the opposite seat, dispassionate commuter faces watched as she struggled to find the necessary document while the ticket collector stood gently rocking on his heels, his face bearing that look of resigned tolerance which appears to come with the territory. At last, with a smile of relief she produced the voucher and handed it across but her smile was not returned, the collector's face set in an expression of sheer boredom as he scanned the ticket before moving onto the next passenger. Grinning at her fellow travellers in embarrassment, Kate dived back behind her copy of the Financial Times, furious at the enforced breach of her privacy for, in removing the newspaper from in front of her face, she was sure that her immediate travelling companions must have realised she had been quietly crying. Oh God, how had she ever got into this fix? Well, to hell with it! Who cared if they saw her crying? If only they knew how hard it was to bring up two kids on your own awash in a sea of debts because the bastard who called himself their father refused to pay any maintenance. That's how it had started. That's how she had become tempted to put her career on the line and to risk throwing away all the trust she had built up in the City over the previous seventeen years, ever since she had joined the long established City Merchant Bank of Bartholomew and Prentice as a financial analyst straight from University. It had been virtually expected that Kate would join the firm where her mother had spent over twenty five years as personal secretary to old Frederick Bartholomew, still the life President of the Company although his son Martin was now the decision maker and Managing Director. Kate's career had gone from strength to strength in a short time as promotions followed rapidly but with the success had come the pressure and the stresses and strains in her personal relationship which had finally seen her husband turn his back on Kate and their young family and leave home, never to return. The shock to her and the girls had been great, magnified by the financial hardship which was suddenly thrust on them by the withdrawal of half the joint income which had funded their huge mortgage. It was then, at a time of greatest emotional need and vulnerability that the beautiful, dark haired Kate Humphries, coming up to her 40th birthday, bumped into an old flame in a little bistro not far from where she worked. Jack Hammond had smiled at her from across the room, sent her a bottle of champagne with a note that said 'Remember me, lover?' and a mature, responsible career woman had fallen in love all over again like a reckless teenager. She would have married Jack Hammond the first time around but her parents had counselled against it. He was not good enough for her, they'd said, a louse who could not be trusted and thus, with regret, she'd acceded to their constant pressure and ended the relationship. He had always been a charmer, good with words and good in bed, and Kate soon discovered that he had lost none of his gifts. Gradually, almost before she realised it, Jack was beginning to ask her questions about some of the Bank's customers and their financial status but she had indignantly shied away from revealing such confidences. He had backed down quickly, feigning hurt that a lover could not be trusted with a few secrets asked only out of innocent interest in her work. His response had hit Kate hard and, not for the first time in her life, her conscience and her relationship with a man came sharply into conflict. This time the conscience lost out, for Kate was desperate not to lose Jack Hammond a second time through fear and suspicion of his motives. Thus she had begun to tell him one or two little titbits which developed into some major juicy pieces of information. It was nearly two months into the relationship that Jack rang her at work and told her to meet him at an expensive little restaurant in Soho for a celebratory meal. Mystified but excited, Kate had turned up wondering what the celebration was about and found Jack, beaming with pleasure, already seated at the table pouring out the champagne. 'All thanks to you, darling ...' he'd said softly, his hand holding her own, ' ...if it hadn't been for your knowledge about the Inland Revenue investigation, the Lovegrove shares would have crashed through the floor before my client had a chance to unload them on some unsuspecting sucker. He was very, very grateful!' then with a flourish, produced a personal cheque made out to J. Hammond for two thousand pounds for 'services rendered'. Kate had been so shocked that she'd knocked over her chair in getting up and leaving the restaurant, her face a picture of fury. She'd taken a taxi home and later refused to let Jack come in despite his pleas through her letter box, instead she'd cried away a long, lonely night. The next day he'd rung her at work to say sorry and she'd grabbed at the phone, eager for the sound of his voice. 'To show how sorry and how much I love you ...' he'd said softly ' ...check your bank account!' and then after mouthing a kiss he'd rung off. Mystified Kate had rung her bank and found, to her astonishment that the sum of £1000 had been deposited there by a Mr. Hammond that very day. She had begun to shake, realising what she was into and what she'd mutely accepted, but conscious too that such an instant sum took care of that months mortgage on the family home with a little to spare for the girls. Thus the downward spiral had begun, Kate passing on little snippets to Jack and being rewarded with bigger and bigger cheques until they were picking up £4000 a month in cheques from Jack's grateful clients. There were some sleepless nights when Kate was alone and her conscience bothered her yet, once in the arms of her lover, an all consuming passion conquered all her guilt. Less than a fortnight later, Jack told her he was going away for a few days on business but he'd call her from his hotel. He had been evasive about his destination but Kate had simply believed him ...until the calls failed to come. Then she'd become nervous, and one lunch break, decided to walk down to Jack's office and ask for any news of his impending return. When she'd arrived at the offices she found the doors locked and a sign saying 'For Rent, 2000 sq. feet of office space. Agents R. Milligan' and a phone number. She'd hurried outside with growing dread, heart pounding and stomach churning, until she found a phone box and rang Milligan's number. 'Oh yes, Mr Hammond ...' the girl at the other end replied to her question ' ...yes, he closed down his business last week, I believe. Very sudden too. I understand he left to start up a new venture in Buenos Aires. Took his secretary with him, too, I believe. I used to chat a lot to her, pretty little thing about nineteen ...you know, big eyes and big everything. We always wondered about that ...she said he used to buy her expensive things, you know ...well ..' but the phone had been dropped by now, swinging uselessly back and forth as Kate tottered into the bright summer sunshine breathing heavily and holding her stomach. It was only a blessed relief that she made it to the park before throwing up her lunch then finding a park bench and crying her eyes out for nearly an hour. Eventually she had made it to the station and got home from where she'd phoned work, told them she'd been taken ill at lunch time and wouldn't be in for a couple of days. The next day, Kate rang the office to confirm her illness and spoke to her secretary. 'Sorry to hear about you being ill, Mrs Humphries ...' Tracy had said, with genuine concern '...something you ate I expect. Still, you're probably better off out of it today, there's a bit of a flap on. Somebody's been selling information about the Bank apparently and Mr Bartholomew is pulling out all the stops looking for the mole. All the staff are being interviewed.' Kate had put down the phone with shaking hands, covered her face and cried like a baby. She got up and paced the floor for what seemed like an eternity, her knuckles white and her eyes red with tears before coming to a decision. Grabbing hold of the phone, she rang a very special number. 'Mummy ...' she said softly as the phone was picked up at the other end ' ...I...I'm in a bit of a mess! Can I come over and see you ...like now!' An hour later, Kate Humphries was sitting hunched up on her mother's sofa pouring out the most embarrassing confession of her life. When she'd finished, the old lady who sat beside her put an arm round her daughter's shoulders and turned the tear stained face towards her. 'I won't pretend I'm not shocked ...' the old lady said quietly '...but this is not a time for recriminations for you feel badly enough about your behaviour as it is. My love, I know how easy it is for a woman, of any age, to have her head turned. Don't think you're the first. Perhaps your dad and I should have let you marry Hammond and then you'd have discovered what a rat he was in your twenties when you could still rebuild your life. You know you've probably thrown away everything, don't you?' as Kate, still sobbing, nodded miserably. 'However all may not be lost. This was a terrible lapse and probably criminal charges could be preferred but I don't think Bartholomew and Prentice will do that!' 'That's small relief, Mummy ...' Kate whispered quietly '...I'll still lose my job and never get another. I'll be exposed throughout the entire City!' The old lady looked grim, then set her jaw resolutely. 'Not necessarily ...' she said firmly '...for I still have a lot of sway with old Mr Frederick and if I know him ...' she stopped awkwardly as if recalling a memory ' ...I think there may be hope for you yet, if I'm persuasive enough. However, Kate, even if I am successful ...' and she stared her daughter full in the face ' ...there will have to be a reckoning for what you've done and you may not like it. However, if you get to keep your job, do you promise me to accept whatever Mr Bartholomew recommends?' Kate's eyes brightened with amazement. 'Oh, Mummy, if you only could I'd do anything ...anything!' The expression in her mother's eyes suddenly alarmed her but the old lady patted her shoulder. 'Go on home now for I'd rather talk to Mr Bartholomew in private. There are things I have to say which are for his ears only ...!' the old lady had said firmly ' ...and I'll phone you with the answer!' It was a nerve racked Kate who later sat in front of her own phone, willing it to ring and, when it finally did, she leapt on it eagerly. 'Well, he was shocked, Kate ...'' her mother's voice was terse at the other end '...but he listened to what I had to say. It's up to you, now, my dear. They've called an emergency Board Meeting for tomorrow morning and you must attend, do you understand? If you do as you're told, no one outside the Board of Directors will ever know. Mr Bartholomew Senior promised me that much.' 'Thank you, Mommy ...' Kate said shakily ' ...I don't know how to thank you!' There was a pause before the stern reply. 'Perhaps you won't be thanking me after tomorrow ...but you got yourself into this mess and now you will have to pay the price Uncomprehending, Kate burbled her thanks once more and rang off, then sat down trembling. What had Mommy meant 'pay the price'? Perhaps they'd demote her to her old job! God how humiliating. What would the Board Meeting decide? Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of the children from school and she tried to forget her woes. Thus it was that Kate found herself hiding behind her newspaper on the train to the City, her nerves jangling and the full weight of her crimes beginning to dawn once more as she began to dwell on the £20,000 she'd picked up from grateful punters. How much Jack had made God only knew! She began to cry again. God, they'd never let her keep her job ..never! Surely ... her thoughts were interrupted as the train pulled into Victoria Station and Kate got up nervously, picked up her briefcase and joined the other commuters in the charge for the tube station, desperately trying to compose herself for her appointment with destiny. Soon she found herself, with legs trembling, climbing the steps of the office block which housed Bartholomew and Prentice on the 12 th floor. Jostling with the other office workers in the elevator and feeling more nauseous by the minute, Kate got off at her floor and shakily opened the office doors. To her relief there were no angry stares or sullen looks, the staff in reception greeted her as cheerily as usual and Tracy came out of her office with a happy smile. ''Welcome back, Mrs Humphries ...,' she said with a warm grin '...hope you're feeling better ...' , Kate nodding in reply '...good, 'cos there's an emergency Board Meeting this morning and its starting at nine. They told me to buzz them when you arrived. Oooh, happy birthday by the way!' Kate managed a thin smile. God, amid all this, her fortieth birthday! Pausing only to go to the loo and make herself comfortable, Kate made her way, with increasing nervousness, to the Board Room. She stopped outside and looked down at herself. She'd dressed demurely, almost like a penitent, in white blouse with matching grey jacket and skirt and her best new black court shoes. Coughing nervously she opened the Board Room door and walked inside. They were all sitting waiting for her, their faces grim with expectation, Martin Bartholomew the handsome MD for whom Kate hid an embarrassing crush, the severe Mr.Fisher from Personnel , the dark haired young Mike Davenport, Director of Marketing, Proctor from New Business and, in the Chair for the first time in years, old Frederick Bartholomew. 'Sit down, Mrs Humphries ...' the old man said with stern authority, pointing to a seat at the end of the table away from the rest of them, and she did so hastily, the tears nearing the surface once more at his insistent formality '...for there is only one item on today's unprinted agenda. That is your disgraceful behaviour in regard to betraying your position of trust, and profiting from such betrayal. You have twenty minutes to tell your side of the story, Mrs Humphries, before we decide what to do about it! Begin, and remember you would not even have this chance if it were not for the high regard in which I hold your mother. I hope you appreciate that!' Kate stood up and nodded, tears falling freely now as she told them everything, holding nothing back until she ran out of words and sat down silently, her head bowed. There was a brief and quiet consultation at the top of the table which Kate could not hear but faces seemed flushed with excitement when it was over and her heart began to quicken. 'Very well, Mrs Humphries ...' the old man said sternly ' ...we have heard what you have to say and I must say its a sorry and shameful tale. However, although you have taken the spoils of greed, you have not stolen from us, nor do we feel you are an inveterate liar and cheat. You have behaved out of character like a very silly little girl in a woman's body, whose head was turned by a cheap trickster .... ' and Kate Humphries bowed her head in shame '...therefore we are prepared to be understanding. You will keep your job here ...' Kate looked up and gasped in astonishment '...provided you agree to our terms. You will, here and now, sign this document which allows the Company to take whatever action it deems fit to deal with this matter' Kate threw her arms out in delight, her tear stained eyes shining. 'Oh thank you, Mr Bartholomew, I don't know how to thank you. Yes, of course I'll sign ...but the money's gone on my debts. How can I ...?' Bartholomew held up his hand. 'Let us worry about the terms ...just sign!' and she did so hastily, passing the paper back to him. A murmur of assent went round the room and a perplexed Kate saw a number of the Directors begin to smile, their faces glowing with some expectation. At a sign from the old man, the Directors rose, Kate hastily following suit. 'Follow us, Mrs Humphries ' Frederick Bartholomew said grimly and she did so with quickening heart as they left the Board Room and walked out into the general office, past the rows of assistants and secretaries until they reached the far door leading to the basement. 'W..Where are we going, Mr Bartholomew?' Kate asked nervously as Davenport opened the door for her and she was virtually propelled through it by Martin Bartholomew. There was no answer as she was escorted down the stairs and along the corridor until they reached the video room, used for making the Company's promotional films. It was equipped as a cameraman's studio and, as Davenport opened the door, Kate blinked at the bright lights already set up overhead. 'W..what are we doing in here?' she asked nervously, looking round the sparsely furnished room. There was just one table, 3 ft high in the middle of the room ...and nothing else. Kate's heart began to beat rapidly with a sudden foreboding. Frederick Bartholomew smiled. 'You are going to make a training film, Mrs Humphries ...,' he said quietly '...a very special training film. I think you will remember your 40th birthday, young woman, for you will celebrate it in style! Now stand in front of the desk facing the camera!' Shaking with trepidation, Kate did as she was bid fussing with the buttons of her blouse as she watched young Davenport sight the lens of the video camera. Oh God, they were going to make her confess on film! 'Perfect, Mrs Humphries, perfect ...' Frederick Bartholomew said after a nod from Davenport ' ...we seem to have you perfectly in focus ...,' he paused as she waited anxiously.'...now take off all your clothes!' Kate's face turned pale as she reeled in shock. 'W..what did you say?' she demanded, her voice gasping, incredulous. 'I told you to take off all your clothes ...' the old man repeated '...and don't waste our time with shocked indignation!. That's just why you're here ...to be totally humiliated and then given a damn good hiding across your bare bottom ...and it will all be recorded on videotape ...every embarrassing, shameful moment of it!'' 'S...strip naked here, in front of all of you, for a spanking ...??' Kate squealed, her voice choking '...My..my God, you must be mad! I'd never consider...' she bit her lip to keep the indignant, outraged tears at bay '...I...I wouldn't...I wouldn't.' but her voice faded and she hung her head as the dreadful alternatives unfolded in her mind. If you want to keep your shame out of the newspapers and out of the City gossip, you will do as you're told...' Frederick Bartholomew said angrily ' ...You've signed a pledge to save your career and your good name. You can either be humiliated in public or in relative privacy!! When it's over the videotape will be locked in my private vaults available only to myself and my son. No one outside this room will ever know ...unless you commit another stupid act like this one! Then every single employee down to the lowliest filing clerk will be invited to a film show to see how one industrial spy got her just desserts I don't think it's too difficult a choice, Kate, and your mother didn't think so either ...so get your clothes off, now!' 'Oh God, please not this!' she cried, her eyes wide with shock as she realised the full terrible import of her situation ... she could accept dismissal with the consequent publicity which would ruin her family and shock her friends ... or she could accept the utter humiliation of stripping naked in front of all these men for a sound thrashing like some naughty little girl! So this is what Mummy had meant by paying the price!. In those few frantic seconds before her ultimate humiliation, Kate thought back to the days of her childhood and Mummy's shaming remedy for disobedience. So this was how Mummy had saved her daughter's career! Suddenly she knew there was no choice and with a hoarse cry of shame Kate Humphries slowly took off her grey jacket and put it on the floor, then began to undo the buttons of her blouse, the tears rolling down her face. She looked once around the floodlit room at the faces of the watching men, like vultures as they licked their lips in anticipation of the pleasure to come. Kate swallowed hard, choked back her tears and finished undoing her blouse, slipping it off and letting it fall to the floor. She heard a low sigh from the watching group as she stood in bra and skirt, the filmy black lace bra revealing most of her breasts. She felt the nipples hardening as the air conditioning in the room played on her sensitive skin and, without daring to look up she unzipped her pleated skirt and let it fall, stepping out of it with as much dignity as she could muster. Kate was weeping loudly now, her face crimson with shame as she stood displayed in her matching black lace bra, panties and suspender belt. She could hear their breathing, hard and intense, but not a word was spoken as she bit her lip, reached behind and undid the clasp of her bra, then wriggled the straps off her shoulders without ceremony. As the half cups slipped away from her nipples and the full breasts swung freely into view without restraint, Kate heard a low whistle and the sound of deep breathing . She didn't dare look up and her face was as red as a beetroot. She paused desperately, her breathing rapid ...they couldn't mean everything, they couldn't...! 'You can keep your suspender belt and stockings on ...' Frederick Bartholomew's voice was cold and insistent '...but get your panties right off ...and face the camera!'' Kate's mouth opened in horror and her scarlet blush deepened. She was going to protest but what would be the point. Oh God, she had shaved down there too ...just for Jack ...oh God, no! Choking back a cry of shame, Kate slipped her fingers into the waistband of the tiny panties and slipped them down, stepped gingerly out of them and stood naked with her legs firmly together but she couldn't hide the display! 'Very nice ...!' Davenport commented dryly as heads nodded in agreement around the room '...now turn round and let's see your bottom!'. Kate turned obediently and stood with her eyes closed, no attempt now to stem the tears of humiliation which flowed like a river down her blushing cheeks as a murmur of approval greeted the view. 'Right, Kate ...' Martin Bartholomew spoke for the first time '...lets not waste time. What you've done is a serious breach of ethics for which you should be barred for life. I hope you know how fortunate you are! You will receive six strokes of the cane across your bottom from each of us making thirty strokes in all. My father will begin and I shall terminate the proceedings. Now bend across the table and grip the end!'' 'Oh my God!' Kate groaned as the sentence was announced but she obeyed immediately, glad to turn away from their voracious eyes and eager to get it over and done. She leaned across the table as instructed, discovering that she could not grip the far end without getting up on tip toe and sticking her bottom right out. Just what they wanted to see!. She lay still, her heart pounding with nervous tension and her face fiery red with embarrassment as she heard the flexing of the whippy cane behind her. Then whaaap! the first stroke whipped across her bottom and she gave an involuntary cry. Before the second one landed she had realised that thirty strokes would not be as bad as she'd feared, for the cane was much lighter than she'd expected. So the object was humiliation not undue suffering though she guessed she'd be jumping about by the end of the punishment. The old man certainly hit hard enough for his age and by the time he'd finished, Kate's bottom felt as if a fiery torch had been held underneath it. She managed to avoid crying out and braced herself as she heard the words ' Mr Fisher if you please!'' Kate closed her eyes as she heard the first swish then whaaap! , the cane struck home with force. She nearly rose up from the table but merely gasped aloud as the fiery brand burned into her naked buttocks. Fisher was caning much harder than the old man and by the time he'd finished Kate was writhing across the desk, desperately trying to keep her legs together. By the time Proctor was into his stint, all attempts at modesty disappeared, and by his fourth stroke Kate was squealing loudly and her legs were scissoring as she wept in anguish, oblivious to the display of her fleshy vulva as her legs kicked high and wide. When he'd finished and Davenport began, Kate was doing a dance across the desk, needing to be restrained by Martin Bartholomew's hand in the small of her back. 'Oh please...!' she shrieked ''...please no more!' but the whippy cane continued to punish her buttocks while the crescendo of pain ebbed and flowed. Suddenly she began to quiver with excitement as each stroke whipped home. Conscious suddenly of the blood pounding in her head, every nerve tingling, her vagina hot and wet, Kate let out a long, loud squeal, her bottom writhing frantically as Davenport's final stroke bit home. There was some raucous laughter in the room now as Martin Bartholomew picked up the cane and flexed it through the air. 'She's beginning to like it !' someone chortled as Kate hung her head in shame. 'OK, gentlemen ...' Martin Bartholomew said suddenly in a voice of supreme authority ' ...shows over. Please leave the room and don't mention this to a living soul!' 'Come on ...' said the old man ' ...you heard my son. He's the boss. Do as he says!' and with some obvious disappointment the three other directors left the room in the company of their elderly President, closing the door behind them and leaving the Managing Director and the weeping naked woman alone. Kate waited for the next stroke but to her surprise felt only the firm gentle hands of the young Managing Director run down her back and across her punished buttocks. She sighed softly with surprise, putting up no resistance as he whispered quietly 'You've been a silly girl, Kate, but I think you've been punished enough.' She lay still, surprised and uncomprehending, yet glad of the gentle and unexpected massage as he continued to gently stroke her reddened buttocks with his palm. The overwhelming feelings in her loins began again as she sighed softly, easing her legs apart to grant him access. Kate gasped with pleasure as she heard the hiss of his trouser zip then felt the thick nub of his penis pushing open the lips of her vulva. She gripped the table and thrust her bottom up as he began a slow gentle intrusion into her vagina. Soon he was fucking her with an insistent rhythm, building up to deeper and deeper thrusts as she squealed with pleasure. She began to buck and writhe, taking him in as far as she could, squealing with delight as he thrust home, finally ejaculating deep inside her with one loud groan. He eased her backwards off the table and spun her round, her tear stained face moving to kiss his lips passionately. 'Don't waste your time on con men, Kate ...' he said firmly as she tried to cope with what was happening '... and from now on you'll stay on the straight and narrow or you know what you'll get ,don't you?' 'Oh yes ...,' she said softly '...there won't be a next time. I've learned my lesson now and no mistake ...!' then as she began to rub her punished buttocks, she whispered ' ...but I may need a regular reminder just from you, Martin...but please do it in private!''