Tuesday, 16 November 2010

More Therapy!!

It had just started raining as the taxi pulled up, I got out and quickly paid the driver. Just then the heavens opened so I made a dash across the pavement and up the steps to the front door. I rang the bell and waited as the rain lashed down, within seconds I was dripping wet. As Michael opened the door he beamed a smile, then he saw the state I was in and immediately his face became apologetic.

"Oh, Amy, you poor thing, come on in."

I couldn't help smiling. "Hello, Michael. I think it's going to rain!"

"Oh you think?" He laughed and his face lit up. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, how are you?"

"Oh I'm fine, honey, let me take your coat." He helped me out of my jacket and hung it up on the coat stand "So how are you?"

"Um, a bit soggy, but other than that I'm fine."

"I'll go get you a towel." Michael dashed off to his downstairs bathroom and returned moments later with a fluffy white towel. "Here you go."

"Thanks." I quickly set about drying my hair, my trousers were pretty wet too but I was sure they'd soon dry, his house was so lovely and warm.

"Come through to the kitchen and I'll put the kettle on, I'm sure you could do with a warm drink."

"Yes please, I can't believe how cold it's got, it was lovely earlier in the week."

"Well it is the summer don't forget, you should expect it to be cold and wet!"

I chuckled at that comment and followed Michael into his kitchen, I'd not been in there before and was taken aback by how lovely it was. There was an element of tradition with the wooden cupboards, copper pans and tiled floor, but the aga was modern, as was the dishwasher and other electrical appliances. The main colour was cream, but it was accented in a deep green that worked perfectly with the oak woodwork. "I love your kitchen!" I enthused."

"Oh, thank you." He looked around and although he tried to appear modest I could see the pride in his face. "It was hard work, but I'm pleased with the end result."

"I should think so too. I'd kill for a kitchen like this, I love cooking and entertaining but don't get the opportunity very often."

"Well, maybe you need to make the opportunity?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, I suppose you're right, I'd not thought of it that way."

"Well that's what I'm here for, to make you think." I watched him busy himself with a cafetiere.

There was a lovely view of the garden from the kitchen, and despite the rain I stood for a while admiring the flowers and trees, I also notice a huge pond. "It's so pretty."

"Thanks, I'd love to take the credit for it, but I have to admit I have a gardener who comes in two or three times a week to maintain it for me, the only thing I look after is the pond."

"Are there any fish in it?"

"Yep, quite a few, some of them are pretty big too. If it ever stops raining we can pop out and have a look if you like?"

I turned to look at him. "Yes please."

Michael gestured towards a kitchen chair. "Please, take a seat." He poured out our coffee's, then produced a plate of biscuits, I helped myself to a chocolate bourbon and nibbled it. "So, how have you been since Monday?" he asked.

I took a sip of coffee. "I've been really good thanks."

"That's good to hear. You know I didn't really know if you'd come."

"Neither did I, but after the week I've had I didn't know what else to do.


"Well as soon as I got offered that promotion I lost it, then there was the driving lessons and-"

"Woahh hold on there!" he interrupted.

"sorry, I was rambling wasn't I?"

"Just a bit." He smiled knowingly at me. "Okay, now start again and this time take it slow and tell me all about it!"

I let out a huge sigh. "Okay, well on Monday morning I went to work feeling really confident and ready for anything, but a while later my boss called me into his office and offered me a promotion to be his legal secretary. I wasn't sure if I'd be strong enough to cope with something like that, I mean it'll be really hard work. So I went straight away and phoned you."

"Okay." He nodded and sat back in his chair.

"Then I found out there'll be a lot of travelling involved but I'm going to qualify for a company car, so I need to learn to drive and the thought of that terrifies me!"

"Okay." He nodded again.

"And then I found out I'll have to do some courses which will mean having to stay away for a week or two at a time, and I got to the point where I wasn't sure even you could help me." Suddenly the drama of the week overwhelmed me and I started to cry, Michael immediately passed me some tissues and spoke softly to me.

"Okay, Amy, I want you to listen to me." I continued sniffing into my tissues. "Look at me," he said more firmly, I looked up into his eyes. "I can help you to deal with all this, trust me, it's not going to be easy, but I'll get you through it if you trust me and will do what I say?"

I nodded and wiped my eyes. "You really think I can do all this?"

"Yes," he smiled. "Now, finish your coffee and we'll get started. Okay?"

"Okay." I returned his smile and finished my coffee.

Once he was sure I'd composed myself Michael pushed his chair back. "Come here," he said firmly. I got up and nervously stood next to him, expecting him to put me across his lap, but instead he looked at his watch. "Right, Young lady, you've got thirty seconds to select an implement from this kitchen, whatever you choose will be used by me to spank your bottom. Your time starts now!"

I was confused and shook my head. "What, but I-"

"Twenty five seconds!"

I gazed around, feeling panicky, and looked for something suitable.

"Twenty seconds!"

I wandered around, trying to think straight.

"Fifteen seconds!"

I began opening draws, desperately looking.

"Ten seconds!"

Then I spotted a utensil jar on the worktop, I rushed over and pulled out a large wooden spoon.

"Five, four, three, two, one!"

By the time the thirty seconds was up I was standing in front of Michael clutching the wooden spoon, he gestured towards the table, so I placed it down then waited nervously, I had butterflies in my stomach and my legs were already trembling.

He stared up at me. "Shoes and trousers off please."

My eyes widened, he certainly wasn't hanging about this time. I struggled to speak. "C... couldn't I leave them on for now?"

"No, take them off."

I swallowed hard and shook my head.

He gave me a reprimanding look. "Do as you're told!"

I realised this was all part of my therapy so I reluctantly did as instructed, I slipped off my shoes, then with shaking hands I undid my trousers and let them side to the floor. After stepping out of them I picked them up and draped them over the back of my chair, I turned to face Michael and he raised his eyebrows, then patted his lap.

"Over my knee!"

I was breathing fast now, but knew this was all for my own good, so I eased myself across his lap. He got me into position and rested his arms across my back, then he gave me a sharp smack across my bottom with his hand.

"Ow!" I yelped.

"That was for arguing with me," he said sternly, you need to learn to follow instruction without question, otherwise you'll never get this promotion. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir." I squeaked.

"Good, now let's begin."

I gripped the chair rung and held my breath, waiting for the next stinging blow, I didn't have to wait long. His hand came down firmly on my right cheek, swiftly followed by a smack to my left cheek, then this was repeated until I'd had six smacks on each buttock. I gasped and squirmed but managed to handle it well.

Michael then caressed my bottom gently, before slipping his fingers into the waist band of my panties. "Time these were out of the way," he said calmly.

I took in a sharp breath as he eased my lacy panties down over my bottom and pulled them down to my knees, the air of the kitchen suddenly felt cold against my skin and I felt totally exposed and vulnerable. I wondered what was in store for me. I also wondered if my panties had a tell tale damp patch.

Michael tightened his grip around my waist, then began spanking me soundly, I kicked my legs and was soon bereft of my panties. I also squirmed across his lap and protested, but despite this his rhythm was steady and there was no getting away from his strong hand. I lost count of the smacks after fifty, and was relieved when at last he stopped. I was panting now and my bottom was stinging as he caressed my back and smoothed my hair. He then ran his hand gently over my bottom, then ran it down between my thighs. My eyes widened at this touch and for a second I felt nervous, then he gently eased my legs apart, just slightly.

"Good girl," he said softly.

I took in a few deep calming breaths, aware of a heat building in a far more personal place, then out of the corner of my eye I saw him pick up the wooden spoon and my heart began to race like crazy. The first smack from the wooden implement felt like a bee sting and I squealed out, a second smack was swiftly delivered so that both my cheeks were equally stinging. There was a pause, as though Michael was allowing the feeling to sink it, or maybe he was waiting for some sort of reaction from me, but instead I lay there waiting for him to continue, and he did. I knew Michael's hand hurt, but that was nothing compared to the wooden spoon, he spanked me fast and hard with it, covering my entire bottom and the tops of my thighs with stinging blows, I knew now why Michael had moved my legs slightly apart as the wooden spoon was aimed on my inner thighs. Within seconds my bottom was on fire and I was kicking and yelping madly. I could feel tears welling up and I instinctively reached back with my right hand to try to protect my stinging cheeks, the spanking abruptly stopped.

"Move your hand!" Michael instructed

"No, it's too much." I retorted as I rubbed my burning bottom.

"Move your hand or I'll move it for you," he said firmly, "You've got five seconds!"

"I can't handle any more."


I continued rubbing my bottom.


I wasn't going to give in.


My defiance was building.


I was determined not to give in.


I moved my hand back around in front of me again and lay there. I was resigned to my fate, and braced for the further onslaught of the dreadful wooden spoon when Michael patted my bottom.

"Up you get," he said gently.

I was puzzled and lay there until Michael began lifting me off his lap.

"Come on, Amy, up you get."

I struggled to my feet and immediately started rubbing my bottom.

"Hands by your side." he said, pulling my arms.

I stood there, naked from the waist down with my charms on view, but confusion meant I didn't care about my state of undress. Michael angled his head to one side, I knew he was waiting for me to say something.

"I... I don't understand," I said, tears suddenly flowing freely again, "did I... did I do something wrong?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you stopped and I.."

"That's because you'd passed the test," he interrupted. I shook my head and he smiled, laughing softly. "I'll explain in a moment, but firstly I want you to fetch the cold cream from over there." he pointed to a dresser and I saw the jar of cream, I retrieved it and handed it to him. "Right, now back over my knee and I'll take care of your red bottom!"

I eagerly laid myself back across his lap and relaxed while he applied the soothing cream to my sore skin, I couldn't help letting out little moans of pleasure as it cooled and eased the sting. His soft hands worked wonders rubbing it in, it was hard to believe those same hands could inflict pain. After about five minutes Michael helped me to my feet again.

"I'm sure you'd like to go and freshen up," he said as he handed me my panties.

I felt embarrassed, aware again of the wetness between my legs, I nodded but found it hard to look him in the eye.

He stroked my arm. "It's okay, Amy, I'm aware of the affect it can have on ladies."

He winked knowingly and I felt my face flush, but I couldn't help grinning. "And I thought it was just me." I picked up my trousers and shoes and headed out to the bathroom, after washing and dressing I went back into the kitchen to find Michael pouring out fresh coffee.

"All better?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes thanks, I needed that!" He gestured towards the chair and I immediately noted a thick padded cushion was now on the seat, I couldn't help laughing.

"I thought you might appreciate that!"

I tentatively sat down and took a few sips of coffee. "So, are you going to explain it all to me now? Only I'm really confused by what just happened.

Michael looked me deep in the eye. "Well, the first part was to see how you reacted under pressure, I gave you a set amount of time and rather than you just going to pieces or panicking you went straight to work on solving the problem."

I nodded, that all made sense.

"Then, when I reprimanded you for arguing you didn't retaliate or try to excuse your behaviour, you merely accepted it instead."

I nodded again.

"And for the last part I was able to remove your panties and part your legs without protest. I took you well outside your comfort zone and you handled it all extremely well, and, even when you'd reached your limit, you still did as you were told even though it went against everything your head was telling you. All of that shows courage and determination not to quit." He leaned forward. "I would say that means you'll cope brilliantly with all the challenges you have coming your way, wouldn't you?

The penny dropped, suddenly it all became clear and I smiled broadly. "Yeah," I nodded, "I think you're right. Thank you!"

"My pleasure, that's what I'm here for."

We finished our coffee and chatted for a while, it was almost nine o'clock when I decided it was time to make a move.

Michael walked me to the door. "Remember I'm here any time you need a bit more therapy."

"I know, and thanks," I thought for a moment. "I have a feeling I might need some more therapy before I gain my qualifications."

"Well if you do just give me a call," he smiled, "it's always a pleasure spanking your bottom."

I grinned and blushed furiously, then did something spontaneous and most out of character for me. "What are you doing Friday night?"


"Well, I was thinking of putting my cooking skills to good use and wondered if you'd like to join me?"

Michael beamed a smile. "I'd love to, thank you."

I returned his smile and he gave me a kiss on the cheek, then I headed out into the cool summer evening with a head full of happy thoughts and a sore bottom!

Saturday, 13 November 2010

S.P.A.N.K.S. (call centre motivation) Part 2

Caroline knew she would have to get up and go to work, much as she would rather stay in bed and have a "duvet day". She pulled back the bed covers and padded naked along to her bathroom, the cold water of the shower waking her completely. Yes it was not all some bad dream, she was really going to have to step up onto the podium this afternoon and accept a bare bottomed paddling in front of all her workmates. Worst of all she couldn't work out why, as last month like all the previous six she had hit all her sales targets. "Why did they have to change it?" she muttered to herself, as she patted her bare legs dry with a towel. What Caroline did not know was that the whole S.P.A.N.K.S initiative had been wrongly implemented from the start by the British office. The idea of it was to build better team understanding and moral, in previous places where it had been implemented they had shown a marked increase in team performance, but not so in Britain. One of the young executives from head office was flown over to see exactly what the problems in England were. At twenty four years of age, Laila Toi was, like Caroline, a rising star in the company but at a much, much, higher level. When Laila flew into England, Jane Murray was rather perplexed that instead of going to her hotel, she had insisted on going straight to the office and getting down to work. Not a good sign when your jet-lagged boss decides that she can't wait another day to get started. Obviously this was not just going to be a quick look around, and a nice dinner type of meeting. Jane, the forty five year old head of the British office was rightly worried about Ms.Toi's arrival. She had phoned her the day before, and had requested all paperwork and emails reference the S.P.A.N.K.S program to be available for her, and she made it clear that she wanted all of it. Jane met Laila at the reception area, and asked if she would like to have coffee before adjourning to her office, and which of the management team she would like to have in on the meeting.

"No. Get coffee sent to the room, I don't need to see any of your team this will be a one-on-one meeting." she replied brusquely. On getting into the office, Laila irked Jane further by taking the seat behind the desk, Jane's seat. "You have all paperwork I asked for?" demanded the small black haired girl.

Jane nodded, the rage in her growing at this fresh out of university chit of a girl, and handed her two large manila folders. One of the folders contained rather contentious photos taken at one of the punishment sessions. Taken without the girls knowledge.
Laila put on a pair of reading glasses and started to work, silently. Jane watched as Laila seemed to read each paper a couple of times, as she worked through the first file her face seemed to darken into a puzzled brood. The only thing she said to Jane's confusion was. "Sandbagging." Then she opened the second folder, the one containing among other documentation the photos. If she had looked in a dark mood before, now she seemed to be raging. She laid back in Jane's chair, closed her eyes for about thirty seconds in deep concentration, then took three very deep breaths opened her eyes and started to speak. "Somewhere this program has gone wrong," she said, her voice calm and even, "the idea is to form stronger teams, where the better sales staff drive along the not so good ones. The four teams compete against each other, as you would say a friendly rivalry. The losing team if they have not achieved one hundred percent of target will risk a team member receiving corporal punishment."

Jane nodded, confident that was how she had implemented the program.

"The results are measured as a team effort, all sales are grouped together and an average taken."

Again Jane nodded.

"The lowest scoring team, will then have a member picked from them at random. Who will be the one to as the Americans say -take one for the team- irrespective of their own personal sales."

Jane could feel her face flush.

"This system discourages sales staff from sandbagging their results by holding back leads back for the following month. It also encourages them to make every sale that they can each month. I would expect some of your top closers to be hitting one hundred and fifteen percent of their targets at least, more likely one hundred and thirty. None ever go more than one hundred and five."

Jane nodded realising her mistake.

"Take this girl for example, she hits one hundred and three percent of her target last month. Already only a week and a half into this month she has reached forty seven percent of her target, she is sandbagging, and she is in the bottom team. If she had hit even only an extra twenty percent her team would have been second."

Jane looked at the sales listings, and saw Caroline's name highlighted.

"Can you now understand how this system is supposed to work?"

Jane nodded and cleared her throat to speak, but was cut off as Laila continued her monologue.

"Also you seemed to have turned the punishments into some sort of sideshow to entertain the staff with. You used psychological profiling questionnaires to enlist your punishers. Do you know what happens when you do that?"

Jane shook her head.

"You end up with people with a certain mindset. Some people, both male and female have a... lets just say fascination with the giving and receiving of corporal punishment. That is why we always recommend that the senior staff carry out the required chastisements. So bearing all this in mind, and the mad inclusion of photographic evidence of something that the company would like to remain in house. I would suggest that you go and bring the paddle in from where ever it is kept."

"W... what... why do you need the paddle?" Jane managed to finally stutter out.

"So you can learn about corporal punishment first hand," Laila said flatly, "as from now on, if you want to keep your job. You will be the only one to administer the punishments. To give you the right motivation, and to teach you for this inept usage of a highly valued program you will also have a taste of the punishment you will be administrating."

"You can't be serious!"

"Never more so, I suggest you give your PA an early finish, as I imagine the you will want to keep this between the two of us?"
Jane rose from her seat and set off to retrieve the paddle, on her way she told Eileen, her PA, to have the rest of the day off. If the walk down the corridor to get the paddle had seemed long, the walk back clutching the paddle in her hand felt longer. She couldn't believe that this was happening. In a couple of minutes time, a girl young enough to be her daughter was about to spank her bottom. She was going to have to bare her bottom, and bend over like a naughty schoolgirl, while this young kid laid into her with the paddle.
When she re-entered her office, Laila had closed the blinds and was now standing in the middle of the room, her jacket removed and the sleeves on her blouse rolled up pat her elbows. All sorts of things ran through Jane's mind, what knickers did she put on this morning, how is she going to explain the bruising when she gets home, will it hurt, but most of all why did she feel sexually excited by it? She handed the paddle to Laila, half hoping it was all a bluff, half praying that it wasn't.

"Trousers and panties down please." Laila said, confirming that it was no bluff.

Jane unzipped her trousers, and lowered them along with her knickers in one movement, then unbidden bent across her now cleared desk. If the idea of receiving corporal punishment excited her, the reality didn't. The first swat came down on her catching both of her bottom cheeks, but more so the right side. The initial impact stung, but not to badly. Then it seeped in, the heat seemed to spread slowly the pain gathering in intensity, then just as it seemed to level out. THWACK! The second blow landed. How many will there be? Jane wondered gritting her teeth, waiting for the burning to dissipate. THWACK! Came the third.

"Good girl, Jane. You take this very well, we are halfway now."

So it will be six, Jane thought. Worse than the pain though was this slip of a thing calling her a "good girl". It was bad enough having her hitting her bare bottom, without her patronising talking. Laila then moved around to the other side of Jane for the final three strokes. THWACK! The fourth one came down, Jane's eyes were now misting over, tears were not far away. THWACK! The fifth landed, and Jane sobbed. THWACK! The sixth was delivered, with added venom.

"So that is it, Jane, we expect you to implement the suitable changes." Laila said as the crying Jane struggled to pull up her underwear and trousers without further agitating her bruised behind. "I will be back in three months, and I expect a huge change in the sales turnover, then perhaps the paddle will not be needed so often. For either you or your staff."

With Jane still trying to make herself decent Laila left the office for her hotel, and a well earned sleep. Through still teary eyes Jane looked at last months sales figures, and at Caroline's highlighted name, her fate was sealed.

Monday, 8 November 2010

'Amelia's Victorian Adventure'-Part 4,Emma's Penance!

After returning to the hotel, Amelia and Georgina made their way to their respective rooms. Amelia was not that surprised to find her room empty of Emma, shaking her head she lay down on the bed flat on her stomach, and tried to get some sleep. The events of the afternoon kept replaying in her mind though, so the seeking of sleep seemed a pointless exercise. Then eventually the door opened and in breezed Emma, the two girls eyes locked upon each other, but not a single word was said. Amelia returned to her pointless search for sleep, as Emma picked up George Sand's, Un Hiver a Majorque for probably about the twentieth time fitfully flicking through the pages of French prose. Twice Emma made to speak of their coming journey to Mallorca, both times she stopped herself, not really knowing how to broach the subject.

Both girls got ready for their farewell dinner with Georgina in total silence, as Amelia stripped to get changed to go down to the dining room, Emma managed to sneak a peek at her friends bruised and lashed buttocks. Again she made to say something but couldn't think what to say, so stayed silent. Amelia pulled on a thin white dress, deciding for the sake of comfort to continue the night less stays and drawers. Again Emma thought to speak, again she could not find the words. So they made their way downstairs, still not a word spoken between them.
Georgina was already at the small circular table set for three, she pointed to the chair to her right. "Amelia," She said, with a sad smile, "I asked the waiter for a cushion, I told him you had been out horse riding all afternoon."
"Thank you, Miss Georgina." Amelia replied in a whisper.
"Please drop the miss, just call me Georgina."
The two girls sat, Emma, particularly wary of her aunt tonight, had already decided only to speak when spoken to.
"I have already ordered the wine," Georgina said, then turned to Amelia. "are you still determined to continue with this journey?"
Emma gasped at the question and looked at Amelia her face panic stricken, Amelia merely nodded.
"You know," Georgina continued. "you could come and work for me. I appreciate hard working loyal staff, unlike my sister and her idiot offspring."
Emma could feel the redness flush across her face, but stayed silent.
"When this trip of yours finally comes to grief. Rest assured it will." Georgina said, staring at Amelia still ignoring her niece to her left. "Get in touch with me, and I will have a place for you, plenty of travelling and I can assure you a lot higher salary then my sister is paying you."
Amelia managed a little smile.
"Thank you Georgina but I'm not that knowledgeable of wines and spirits."
"It can all be learnt my dear," replied Georgina, handing Amelia a business card.
Taking the card Amelia thought to herself, what would it be like to work for this woman? A woman running a large business in a mans world? The idea more than intrigued her, and she placed the card in her clutch bag.

As always when the three of them were together, Georgina led the conversation, but tonight Amelia realised for the first time just how entertaining Georgina could be. She regaled them both with tales of her time in India, and all the adventures she had had since returning to England, and having to run her family business herself. Unlike Lady Wallingford she seemed to be more involved in her business, and did not give off the same air of self importance as her half sister.
Sitting there with the free flowing wine going to her head, Amelia felt quite decadent knowing that she was naked under her skirts. Each time the waiter came over with a dish, or even more wine, she could feel herself flush with excitement. As Georgina's conversation became more risque, instead of her usual reaction of shocked indignation Amelia found herself giggling at Georgina's comments.
Emma on the other hand felt like a gooseberry to her aunt and her friend, she knew things had taken place earlier today that gave them a bond that she was not a party to. In fact she felt jealous of their new found closeness, even though it was Emma's actions that had thrown the two of them together in the first place. "Aunt Georgina," Emma said finally breaking her silence, "I think I may retire now, as we all have long journey's ahead of us tomorrow."
"Run along then." Georgina replied, not even looking at her niece. "Amelia and I have some fino to try before we retire."
Emma arose from her seat, trying hard not to show that she was close to tears, and left for their room. As she lay in her bed, wondering what Amelia and her aunt were talking about for so long the door opened and Amelia entered. Emma feigned sleep, too scared to ask Amelia anything in case the answer she received was not the one she was hoping for. In almost no time at all, Emma heard gentle snoring coming from Amelia's bed, alcohol induced sleep sweeping over Amelia. Emma though knew no amount of wine would drive her to sleep tonight, as she lay there quietly weeping.

The light streaming into the room awoke a rather drowsy Amelia, as she went to pull a pillow over her face to block out the bright Spanish sun, she started at the sight of Emma sitting on her bed staring down at her.
"Wha.. what's wrong?" Asked the still sleep grogged Amelia.
"Nothing, I just like to watch you sleep." Said Emma, a weak, almost hopeful smile on her face. "Was yesterday afternoon really terrible?"
"Yes it was truly awful."
"What... you know... what exactly happened?"
"When we got there that horrid Belmont was there, to protect my interests as an Englishwoman abroad." Amelia said propping herself up in the bed on one elbow. "Then your aunt was forced to strip me. Strip me naked mind you, then whip me. Made to whip me very hard."
Emma burst into tears. "I'm so sorry, it was all my fault. I know that." Emma said as she arose from the bed and walked over to the door an slipped the bolt over.
Puzzled by her friends actions, Amelia swept back her thin bed covers and swung her legs around and made to stand.
"Please stay where you are, Amelia." Emma said as she made her way back across the room, as she walked towards Amelia she bent down, taking the hem of her nightdress in her fingers lifting it up high clear of her hips. Amelia sat there now stunned at her friends actions, watching in silence as the crudely exposed girl made her way to her side. Emma then bent across Amelia's lap. "Please, Amelia give me the punishment that I deserve. Please." Pleaded the distraught Emma.
The hung-over Amelia looked down at the chubby olive cheeks on her lap, her immediate reaction was to give them a little pat, feeling the springy softness in her hand. Then all the things that had taken place over the last seven weeks sprang to her mind. The actions of the butler, birching, sodomy and spankings. The steward on board the steamship spanking her bottom to the colour of the red silk hanky. Yesterdays naked whipping. All these indignities piled on her, just so she could accompany this spoilt child of a woman. The gentle pats turned to slaps, slaps that rebounded of the walls of the room. Normally when getting a rare punishment from her mother, Emma would breakdown into a mess of wailing and tears, to reduce her chastisement. Not this morning though. This morning she wanted to feel and savour every blow. She wanted to show her friend that she could take her justly deserved punishment without complaint. No playing to the gallery today, today she was resolute that she could take whatever Amelia deemed fit to give her.
Outside in the hallway Georgina was passing by the door on her way to the dining room for breakfast, when she heard the noises coming from the room. Smiling to herself she stopped to listen.
Amelia was now going to town on not only the upturned buttocks on her lap, but also the back of Emma's thighs. As the slaps rained down on her she grabbed tightly at the bed sheets to stop her hands flying back to protect herself, for Emma knew she deserved all that was coming her way. Amelia looked as the target wriggled around on her lap, so she brought a few slaps down onto the outside of Emma's hips to try and control the girls continuous wriggling. Now though her hand was starting to hurt her, but she felt that Emma was still in need of more punishment. She looked about the room, her eyes fell upon a rubber plant in the corner of the suite. Helping the tearful Emma to her feet, Amelia said, "Emma bring me that cane over from the plant pot."
Emma nodded slowly, as she rubbed vigorously at her bottom now knowing her punishment was no where near finished.
At the door the eavesdropping Georgina smiled.
Emma scurried over to the plant pot , her night dress still held high her red bottom cheeks jiggling as she went. She cleaned the soil off the cane with her nightdress then handed it to Amelia.
Amelia had already grabbed the pillows off both beds, and piled them up at the bottom of Emma's bed, she then motioned to Emma and said, "put your tummy over them please, six of the best should bring this to a close." Amelia told her tearful friend.
"Please can I have something to bite down on? I don't want to call out." Whimpered Emma.
Georgina, her ear now unashamedly pressed to the door, giggled.
In the room Amelia nodded to Emma's request, and gave her friend a dry face cloth from the toiletry set on the dressing table. She watched in silence as Emma folded it into a tight wad, a hopeful look crossed Emma's face as she smiled weakly at Amelia. Then knowing there would be no reprieve she popped it into her mouth, laid her tummy across the pillows and bit down hard. Then waited. Amelia now had the problem of delivering her "six of the best" to Emma, she had never caned anyone before. How hard to hit? How long between strokes? She thought back to the style use by her last class mistress at school, that seemed to have the desired effect on a clothed behind, so would be more than adequate across Emma's naked posterior. Amelia bent the bamboo slightly, testing it's springiness then took two paces to the rear of Emma's rear. Then with an almost hopping movement, she took one full fast step towards Emma, then when halfway through the second step she brought the cane flashing across Emma's naked behind. The forward motion of her mini run up, gave the cane the added velocity that would have been missing through her lack of experience. The effect was immediate, Emma's whole upper body flew upwards in protest at the stroke. Emma quickly returned to position.

Georgina was now not giggling at the door, she was now swallowing hard, her tongue tracing the outside of her mouth trying to bring some moisture to her dry lips. She could hear the whistle of the cane, and the impact of the wood onto the bare flesh of her niece. Then silence, followed by the same whistle and crack. Georgina stood now counting each of the strokes, her mind throwing up a mental picture of what was going on in the room. She could feel the heat between her legs rise, gaining in intensity with the noise of each stroke, till finally the sixth arrived. Silence. Then she could her the wailing of her now well chastened niece, between the sobs she could hear Emma give out a garbled apology, and plead with Amelia for her not to leave her, then plead for comfort. "Perhaps there may be some hope for these two." Georgina thought to herself as she turned around and headed back to her room, after all breakfast could wait.

Friday, 5 November 2010

Uniform non conformity!

The following is a fun little role-play story between Tomas and Lori, the characters are called Tom and Jen, enjoy!

"I hate school discos!
This school disco promises to be the worst ever, and after nearly thirty years of teaching that takes some doing. The head teacher, came up with the brainwave of having a special anniversary party, to celebrate thirty five years of the sixth form college. It was just going to be a low key event, invited guests etc. Then she decided to post it on the Internet, an open invitation to all ex-pupils of St Paul's sixth form from 1975 onwards. Word spread like wildfire, so we end up selling over five hundred tickets, age range nineteen to fifty three year olds. Wonderful! Me? I then get lumbered with sorting it all out, via a bloody email of all things. The highlights of the email from the power mad bitch. "In your current position as sixth form year head" - In other words, do this or it's back to teaching the general population. "your enthusiasm for extra-curricular activities" - In other words, do this or it's back to teaching the general population. "facilitate in the smooth running, and the health and safety of the event." - In other words, stop them smoking in the toilets, and sloping off to empty classrooms to re-ignite old flames. It's bad enough having to nanny kids, sorry, young adults, but having to nanny people older, and drunker than me is really taking it too far. My hatred of school discos, Xmas parties, or proms as they now like to be known by, is deeply rooted, and revolves for a large part around my name. Tom Jones!
Every single party that I've had to attend, has also been attended by at least three pupils, who have thought it would be so original to request a Tom Jones hit to be played. Then I would be confronted by a grinning adolescent, no doubt fired on by cheap supermarket cider. "Sir have you heard what's playing, bet you weren't expecting to hear yourself" Then stand there, like a little puppy waiting for my standard, and now legendary answer. "It's not unusual." I HAVE to reply, to be met by guffaws of laughter. The early nineteen eighties weren't too bad, as he slid out of public view, but it was just the quiet before the storm. Tom Jones became hip! He was bigger than ever, everybody liked him! He was playing bloody festivals! He was having hits with everyone, he was never off the telly, my life became hell again. One day I went into the sixth form common room at lunchtime, three girls lounging around on one of the tables, that is on the table, not sitting at it! "Come on girls, get yourselves out and about, get some fresh air!" I say brightly.
"But baby it's cold outside." Answers Jennifer West, sitting on the table, running her tongue provocatively across her red lips.
Her two friends burst out laughing, she oddly just smiles a Mona Lisa smile. The kind of smile that gives nothing away of her thoughts. That is another problem, Jennifer "Just call me Jen" West, now no longer a pupil, but a fellow teacher. I hate even meeting ex-pupils, I hate even more working with them. It's constant Tom this Tom that Tom the other. It's like the novelty of using your christian name just doesn't wear off, every single opportunity to use it, she uses it. She is also flirty, but in a subtle way, too subtle to really act upon without making yourself look a fool. A fool I would look too, me newly single at fifty, her only twenty nine, flirt back and I'll look like an idiot. So "Jen" decides she is going to do the double, she is going to the party as an ex-pupil, but she is going to "help" me as well. Excellent.
Bring on the hell."

"I love discos! I might be twenty nine but I couldn't believe it when I heard our school was going to have a disco, I got so excited, and not only that, it was going to invite ex pupils along too! Better still, when I found out Tom was going to be organising it I knew I just had to get involved! Tom Jones is the year six head,and with a name like that he's used to getting quite a lot of stick from the pupils, but I fancy the guy like crazy! Pity he doesn't know it. I've done enough flirting and dropped enough hints over the years, but he just doesn't seem to get it. Maybe helping him organise the big event will give me the opportunity to be a little less subtle? Being a sixth form teacher I often bump into Tom, and have to attend staff meetings, but he just says, "Hello, Jen," and keeps going, perhaps this could be just what I need to get close to him!
I've been teaching at St Paul's for about eight years, I'd been a happy pupil for many years before that and was thrilled to be able to return in a teaching capacity. It's a great place and the academic records speak for themselves, the teachers are all extremely devoted and encouraging, and the pupils dedicated and keen to learn. I love it here,its absolute heaven!

After just getting settled in the main staff room, my sixth former volunteers all deployed, I settle back for a quite cuppa, then in walks Jen, to ruin my peace. "Hello Jen, I thought you would still by partying with your friends?" I say, trying to discourage her taking root.

I flop down in a chair beside Tom, then provocatively cross my legs and smile broadly. "Well I came to see where you are! Is there anything you need me to do?"

Why is it every time she speaks she seems to be delivering an innuendo, or is it my overactive imagination. More likely wishful thinking on my part. "No Jen, everything is under control, you should just go and enjoy what is left of the rest of the night." I say forcing a smile, then for god only knows what reason, I ask, "one thing, why the odd outfit. I thought you would be getting glammed up?"

I chuckle and shrug at him. "Oh I just thought it would be nice to be nostalgic, you know, seeing as it's sort of a reunion for me tonight." I stand up and do a twirl, giving a lingering flash of thigh as I turn, my head spins slightly thanks to too many Bacardi and cokes. "What do you think, do I look like a school girl?"

God she is so annoying! Also so sexy. "Well, I'm not sure when you would have gotten away with that as a uniform." I say, then decide to have a bit of fun at her expense. "No tie?"

"Tie?" I think for a moment, my mind clouded slightly. "Oh yes, hang on." I'd forgotten I'd taken it off earlier when I was sorting out the decorations in the main hall, I'd left it hanging on a coat peg so I quickly wrap it around my neck, tuck it under the collar of my blouse, then tie it loosely using a hideous knot. "Is that better. Tom?" I ask, as I make sure my blouse is still open far enough in the front to show my red bra.

I can feel a stirring, as I look at the rather tipsy teacher in front of me. "Well years ago, when I first started teaching here you would be in serious trouble for your choice of....well...." I struggle for the right words. "undergarments."

I frown and look down at myself. "What my red bra you mean?"

"Well yes, that would have been seen as to provocative, with no jumper to cover it." I say, then start to elaborate. "Imagine the effect you could be having on all the good catholic boys here. Leading them on the road to temptation, yes it would have been a punishable offence, way back when the college first opened."

I get a little tingle in my tummy, and a bit lower down, as you say the word 'punishable' and can't help grinning at you, I sit back down and lean in close to you. "Punishable in what way, Tom?"

I have gone past the stage of a little stirring, I'm now getting a full hard on. I'm also finding it rather uncomfortable, sitting here, my cock straining to get straight. "Well I'm not sure about what happened here in 1975, but I know that when I started here in 1983," I say deciding to play along with your game, "any miss-behaving, rule-breaking girls were sent to Miss Foreman, the girls head of PE." You seem to be staring in rapt fascination. "You see in those days, before you started here, she would dish out all the slipperings, well to be more precise plimsollings."

Okay I'm wide eyed now, listening intently. "Really? Wow!" I chew my upper lip, imagining what it would have been like back in those days. A wicked thought crosses my mind and I stand up. "So this would have been very naughty then!" I say as I pull up my skirt to reveal black hold up stocking with a lace trim, and red panties to match my bra.

I close my eyes, and exhale deeply. "They would be very naughty... very, very naughty." I say, wondering where all this could lead. "I think Miss Foreman would have had you straight into the girls changing rooms. Those red panties would soon be down, keeping your ankles warm while she would set to warming your bottom, so it would be the same colour as those knickers." I look at you for some sort of reaction.

A strong sensation pulses deep within my sex, and I breath more quickly. The idea of corporal punishment has always intrigued and excited me, I joined the school after it had ceased as a form of discipline, and although feeling lucky at the time I've often felt cheated since at never having the opportunity to know what it would be like. My parents never chastised me as a child, so I don't know how it feels to be spanked, yet here I am as an adult getting aroused by the thought of it. "It.. it's a shame she isn't here now then," I say softly, "because I'm a very naughty girl to be wearing such things." I wonder, no I hope your response will go in my favour.

My mind is a whirl now, is this an invitation, or more flirtatious banter? I think to myself, the college block is locked up, I have the keys. The alarms are off for the disco, we would have privacy. "Well I could take you in hands, and teach you a damn good lesson." I say, I have finally lost the plot, just have to wait for the letter of sexual harassment to arrive now.

I timidly chew my bottom lip, and I'm sure my eyes must be positively twinkling now. I swallow hard, my tummy full of butterflies and my head buzzing. I'm almost too scared to ask my next question. "Do you really think you could? I mean... would you.., Tom?"

I take your hand before you have time to change your mind, and lead you to the staffroom door. "We can go to my office, we won't be disturbed there." I tell you as I grow into the role. "No one will hear you cry out, and I assure you it will be a real spanking."

Oh my God this is really going to happen, fear wells up inside me, but is mixed with excitement. The man I fancy the pants off is going to take my pants off! You look and sound so stern and full of authority as you lead me by the hand, I feel like a twelve year old girl again. "Have... have you ever done this before?" I ask, almost in a whisper.

What can I say? "I have never had cause to before, but you really are in need of being taken in hand. I feel it is my duty to show you the error of your ways." I bluff it out. We reach the main entrance to the school, and two of my dutiful six formers on meeting and greeting duty. "Miss West and I have something to deal with in the sixth form block, should anybody be looking for me ring my mobile," I tell them, "only in an emergency though." I then whisk you quickly across the lawn to the block entrance.

I can't believe this is happening, oh if only I hadn't drunk so much my head would be working properly and I wouldn't be in this situation. But then I want to be in this situation. I have for such a long time. The anticipation is building inside me and by the time we reach the block entrance my legs are like jelly. I wonder what you'll do.

I fumble for my keys. I'm in a rush, to get you in there before you change your mind. Opening the door I realise that my office will be no good, the window. "Go get a chair out of the common room," I tell you, giving your bottom a sharp slap to send you on your way, "and bring it to the stock cupboard."

I gaze at you momentarily, stunned by the sharp smack you just delivered to my rump, then, on seeing the stern look on your face, I make my way to the common room and fetch a chair. As I carry it along my mind is racing with thoughts of what is going to happen. Why am I doing this? What do you want the chair for? Will you pull my knickers down? Will you make me stand in the corner like a naughty school girl? And why oh why am I getting so wet between my legs? I eventually return and find you waiting in the stock cupboard, I place the chair down and wait timidly for the next stage.

I sit myself down on the chair, and beckon you over to my side. "Skirt up before you go over I think," I tell you, "that way we can punish those sluttish knickers you are wearing."

I'm wide eyed again, staring at you. I shuffle over to your side and gaze at your lap, knowing I'll be laying over it any second now. I try to reason with myself, this is crazy, just run. But I want this so instead I reach down and slowly begin the peel up my skirt, all the while staring deep into your gorgeous eyes.

You are going through with it! I point at my lap and say. "If you please miss West."

I'm not sure if I can go through with it, my heart is racing, my tummy is in knots and my legs can hardly hold me upright. I try to force myself across your lap, but just can't do it. "I... I need you to, you know." I say as I point to your knees.

I'm not sure what you mean, so I take your arm and haul you across my lap. "When I say over my knee, I mean now." I give the tops of your thighs a sharp slap to each one to re-enforce my words.

That was exactly what I meant, but I wasn't expecting you to be so firm about it. I let out a squeak of surprise as you slap my legs, they almost bring tears to my eyes. I lay there staring at the floor, than at your legs and feet, the anticipation is overwhelming and I struggle in a vain attempt to get up again.

"Stop wriggling around girl, you have asked for this and you are going to get it!" I start spanking you firmly, not harshly though. A couple of slaps to each knicker covered cheek. Then I fall into a steady alternating rhythm, briskly from cheek to cheek. "So this is what you were expecting it to be like? I bet your bottom is getting warm now, eh?"

"Yes!" I squeal loudly, kicking out and reaching around to cover my cheeks with my right hand. This isn't at all how I imagined it, this stings!

I take your interfering arm in my left hand and pull it behind your back. "I was hoping to leave you a bit decency, and allow you to keep your knickers on, but all this fuss." I say scolding you. "They are going to have to come down." I reach for the waistband of your knickers then change my mind. I pull you back onto your feet. "Take them off."

I stand before you rubbing my bottom. "Nooo," I whine, conscious of sounding like an eight year old, "I can't do that!"

"You can, and you will. Now take them off, and give the to me," I say in my sternest voice. "then if you are good, you will get them back before you go home."

I'm so into the part of a naughty girl now that I actually pout and stomp my feet a little, but your expression soon makes me obey and I reluctantly grip the waistband of my silky panties. As I lower them I'm aware my unshaven bush will be in full view, so I turn around slightly and continue easing them down while trying to preserve some dignity.

I put out my hand to receive your underwear. "Just think, when we go back to the main building, you will have to walk past your pupils. Your bare bottom throbbing under your skirt, lets hope the wind doesn't pick up as we walk back across the car park." I say goading you. "I bet it is a main topic of conversation with the lads in the common room, whether Miss West is a shaver or not, a bit breeze and they will find out won't they."

I suddenly blush furiously, not knowing where to look or what to say, I thrust my panties into your waiting hand but still don't turn around.

I take your arm, and haul you back into position. "Let's see if we can get these cheeks as red as they were when your knickers were still on." I say as I restart my tattoo on your behind. "That's a challenge for us. Eh?"

I don't know why,but I timidly say, "Yes, Sir." This whole thing is like a dream, a weird and wonderful dream. I want to pinch myself,to make sure it's real. I look down at the floor again, the cool air of the room making me aware of my nakedness and vulnerability, then I grip the chair legs and wait for it to begin again.

Like before I keep up a brisk speed, cheek to cheek, one after the other, but not with great force. Still though I feel the heat build up on pliant quivering flesh. Each slap bringing from you a grunt, or a squeal, of pain or delight? I decide to find out, to test the water so to speak. I stop spanking. The middle finger of my right hand follows the cleft of your bottom, it reaches the pink purse of your sex, dallies for a while on the periphery, then gently, oh so gently probes into your warm wet silken lips........

"Ohhhh!" I cry out, feeling your fingers probing at my sex lips. I'm so aroused that the merest touch is like ecstasy and I quickly part my legs to allow you easy access.

Wet. So wet, so you are into this as much as me. I lift you a little so my fingers can get access to your clit. "So the young miss likes a spanking." I say, as I seek out your most private parts. "Perhaps she might like to have something else in here, something a bit larger than a finger?"

"Oh yes.... yes please." I say in a low guttural voice, perhaps a little too keenly, but I'm desperate for relief now as my clitoris is throbbing and my groin aches. I spread my legs even further, allowing your fingers room for another good probe and search.

As my fingers enter you again, moving them quickly, I hear the slight squelching sound that tells me you are more than ready. I pull you back to your feet again, this time I rise with you, and pulling you towards me I kiss you......

I've dreamt of this moment for so long, dreamt of you holding me, kissing me. I wrap my arms around you,placing my hands on the back of your head to pull you closer as I slip my tongue into your mouth....

My hands slip down your back, I pull up your skirt to caress your hot red cheeks. I can feel the heat coming of your buttocks, as I pull you tight towards me. Pushing my groin to yours.

I break the kiss briefly to say, "Do you think a certain something would like to be let out of his confines for a while?" I reach down and feel your hard on, giving it a little run through the fabric of your trousers.

"Yes I think so!" I gasp out, not really knowing how all this has come about.

I grapple with your button and zip, almost ripping it open in my keenness to release your manhood. As soon as I ease your trousers down a bulge comes into view, than as your pants get lowered a mighty erection pops out in front of my eyes. I can't help staring at it. "Wow he's as keen as me!" I chuckle.

Keener! I think to myself, as I try to manoeuvre you back towards the chair, I so want to be inside you. "Jen... could you..." I stop talking, lost for the right words, it's been so long, being in this situation.

You seem flustered all of a sudden, the confidence of authority now escaping you. I shake my head. "What is it, Tom. What do you need me to do?"

Now what? What do I say? "Could you... bend over, you know." I'm starting to feel foolish now.

Suddenly the penny drops. "Ohh, right, of course." I smile at you and bend over, placing my hands on the seat of the chair. I part my legs slightly and feel a shiver run through me, is this really going to happen? Are you going to go all the way? This isn't exactly as I'd imagined it, in my daydreams there was a four poster bed and scattered rose petals, but I'm so desperate now I don't care about the details, I just want you to take me.

As I move behind you, I see the little bud of your anus, it crosses my mind, but I want you properly. My cock touches the folds of your slick fanny, I hear a little gasp from you. The head enters you, then I slide in, watching my cock disappear into your welcoming wet purse.

As I close my eyes I take in a sharp breath and hold it, feeling your cock rub against my g-spot. I grip the seat of the chair and concentrate totally on my pelvic area, feeling you deep inside me, your balls pressing against my thighs. It's been a long time since I had this wonderful feeling, in fact it's never felt so good, and it's only just begun. I push back against you, wanting more and squeezing you with my vaginal muscles.

I move in you, slowly at first, then pick up pace, mesmerised by the piston like action of my cock going in and out of you. My mind drifts off, just how did all this come about. Why are you even entertaining a thought about me, never mind doing what we are doing? How long can I last before cumming, do I withdraw, are we safe? So many questions, I can't ask.

I let out a low groan with each thrust from you, as you rub against my magic spot the intensity builds up and I feel the hairs on my neck standing up, it feels as though the top of my head will come right off, and you must be wondering what on earth I'm doing as I instinctively place my hand there to stop it. My toes are curling now and I know the orgasm building deep within me is going to be huge. Who knew you could be as good as this? I daydreamed that you would be of course, but never thought it would ever actually happen, yet here we are, moving together like poetry in motion, but my motion stops suddenly and I go rigid with ecstasy...

I look on in wonder as you start to peak, as I to am reaching mine. I feel the familiar rushing feeling starting from deep in my balls. As you seem to lock up in some sort of orgasmic rush, I cum before a can withdraw. I feel my seed flooding you, as ejaculate deep within you.

I'm still floating on an orgasmic high as I feel a warm rush deep inside me, I hear you gasp and groan and know you have cum as well and I reach back to take your hand. "Wow!" is all I can say as I try to catch my breath.

I withdraw from you carefully, trying to avoid a Monica Lewinsky situation with your skirt. I pull you back up towards me, and kiss you gently on your forehead. "I think it would be a good idea for us do get ourselves cleaned up," I say smiling at you, "sharpish." I take you by the hand, and lead you out into the corridor and down to the boys toilets.

I'm in a total daze as you lead me along again, did all of that really happen? Did we kiss? Did we really have sex in the stock cupboard? The wonderful feeling inside confirms that we did and I wonder what the future has in store. My mind races with thoughts as you guide me into the toilets.

I quickly wash myself, and leave you to some privacy, while I take the chair back to the common room, and get a folder from my office to make it look that our journey had some purpose. Getting back to the doorway of the toilets I call out to you. "Are you ready Miss West." I toy with the idea of giving you your knickers back, but keep quiet.

I grab some paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and soak them in warm water, then set about washing my lady parts, then I take another wad and soak them in cold water, this time applying it to my stinging bottom, both areas are tingling nicely and the smile on my face echoes the feelings inside. I soon dry myself and call out. "Coming!" and not for the first time this evening I chuckle to myself. I feel liberated somehow, not least because I have no panties on, dare I ask for them back?

I smile at you as you come back out. "Back to the party then," I say to you, "we might even have a dance." You nod not looking to sure. We make our way back to the main hall, ignoring the quizzical looks of my sixth form doormen. As we enter the hall, the band has already replaced the disco, the scantily clad female singer is in full flow. "I want to feel the back of your hand, somewhere on my behind, I don't want you to thank me" We both double-take each other, and burst out giggling like a pair of teenagers.

I love school discos!

S.P.A.N.K.S. (call centre motivation) Part 1

Caroline awoke after a fitful night of sleep, she lay there for a few moments deciding. She had to decide whether to go to work or not, and if she was to go, what to wear?

Skirt or trousers, tights or stockings, flat shoes or heels. She wished now that the call centre had some sort of uniform, or even just a dress code, but they haven't so she will have to decide on her own. On her own she was this morning, she had made excuses to her boyfriend to put him off coming around to her flat last night. Some nights you just need to be alone, and after yesterdays news at work, last night was one of those days. When the new company motivational plans were put in place she wasn't in the least bit bothered. She was one of the stars of the sales floor, her lead-to-sale conversion rate was the third highest in the call centre. Sales Planning And New Kinesis Scheme, they all laughed when they read the title of the memo.

"It's called SPANKS, and no one can understand what it means?" Caroline said to the floor manager.

"Ah you mean the kinesis bit?" He replied with a large grin. "Kinesis is the reacting to external stimulus, you're right it does spell spanks and that is roughly what the stimulus will be... you know, to egg on the lower sellers on the sales team."

Caroline laughed at the idea of spankings for poor sales figures, not a bad idea she thought to herself, though totally impractical.

As the full details of the new scheme came out it caused much consternation among the staff. Cutbacks from the parent company in Singapore were being called for. Anyone who didn't want to take up the new contracts, and enlist to the SPANKS bonus scheme, would be moved out to the non sales side of the company, or just let go of completely in new job restructuring. It was a complicated document full of "legalese", the gist of it was that the highest closers of leads got a new improved bonus. The lowest received corporal punishment in front of their peers, as way of a warning to them to buck up their ideas, and also a reminder to the others to keep on selling. Of course if there was a one hundred percent hitting of all targets, there would be no need for any corporal punishment and an enhanced group bonus would be paid to all sales staff. All the staff took the whole thing as a joke, it could not be legal could it? Well with good enough lawyers, and complicated enough confidentiality wavers written into contracts almost anything is legal. There would be no point to it would there? The parent company had operated similar schemes in the Far East, and had proven a huge success in both raising sales, and improving team morale. It would only really have an impact on the same few people each month? Yes that would be correct, and that was the mistake that the English office made, at least for the first six months anyway.

For Caroline the first six months were great, she was getting better than ever bonuses partly due to the amount of staff that left when the company brought in the SPANKS contracts.

The new staff that came in were keen, but inexperienced so came no where near her figures. As for the CP side of the contracts, Caroline looked upon it as an entertaining diversion to bring the month to the end. It was carried out in an almost clinical way, there were three designated executors of the punishments, all female. It was rumoured that the company preferred to use women in this role to avoid any form of sexual harassment charges being raised against them. Also the majority of the sales staff were women, of the hundred working on the sales floor only sixteen were male. The talk in the canteen was all about how did they get the training, did they have to practise on each other? It was even put about that the company had hired people in for them to practise on. Either way trained they were, and they were raring to go on the last working day of the first month.

All that day there was a palpable tension in the air, a form of excitement at what was to come. Caroline thought this must be similar to how Rome must have felt on the first day of "The Games". Everyone waiting for another's humiliating downfall. Then four forty finally came along, for the first month there were two victims, both had only reached sixty percent of their target. Against the odds it was one female, and one male. The girl Caroline did not know, she had seen her about the offices but they had never spoken. A little bit inside Caroline was disappointed that it what not someone she knew well, don't judge her too harshly though, because we all have that hint of schadenfreude in our personality, no matter how hard we try to hide it. The male, now that made her smile broadly, Jack Danvers she new only to well, Jack-the-lad as he liked to be called. Jack was the self appointed male chauvinist pig, no doubt there would be more than a few of the girls looking forward to seeing him get a whacking. Caroline made sure that she had cleared her desk early, so she could get a good front seat. The office building had a conference room that had been modified, a small, two foot high podium with a school type desk placed on it at the front of the room. Small rigs of lamps had been fitted to the ceiling to flood the podium with white light. The point of this was twofold, it gave the audience a better view of events, it also made it hard for the victims to see their audience. The audience were seated in seven rows arranged in a semi circle and fanning outwards from the podium. (The following months the seats were numbered, and allocated in order of sales results, of course Caroline still got a front seat.)

The show started, Jane Murray took to the stage and thanked everyone for being there. She praised the efforts of her sales teams, she knew they were going through tough times, money was scarce but they had all, well almost all, pulled through. Then her mood seemed to change, as she said. "I'm sorry to say though, we didn't hit our hundred percent target. I know there are a few people sitting in front of me now who didn't come close to it. Some who only managed sixty five percent, it's to those people that what follows next should be taken as a firm warning of what might be to come. You people who are only sitting on sixty five or seventy percent ratios should realise that should things stay the same for you, while the ones around you increase their sales, that it is one stroke of the paddle for each five percent under performance."

There was an audible intake of breath from the whole room, they all knew that the ones being punished had only made sixty percent. A ripple of whispers then went through the room, each whisper said "that's eight strokes!" Jane then stepped down from the podium. Then in what could only be called a step into the over theatrical, the executor then took to the stage, complete with a white face mask, the type so popular in old Venetian masked balls. The mask was supposed to ensure her anonymity, but everyone knew it was Claire, as the other two appointed punishers were sitting amongst the audience, but it all added to the drama. This was the first time that Caroline saw the paddle, and pretty innocuous it looked too, at first glance it seemed to be made of see through plastic, she was later to find that the material was Lexan. No one in the audience was aware that a few implements were mooted, and tested before this paddle was chosen as the ideal adjustment tool. In the Far East almost without exception the cane was the chosen implement, but the lawyers had decided that due to propensity of canes breaking the skin, to avoid any lawsuits it was decided to use other methods in the Western countries. After a great deal of product testing, the three punishers decided that the Lexan paddle was the quickest way to bring heat to the seat.

"Miss Maureen Corrigan please," spoke the ridiculously masked Claire, "you shall be first."

Then the red-faced girl came out of the shadows, and stepped up onto the podium. Caroline could feel her heartbeat rate rise, and her hands started to get sticky and sweaty in excitement. All the audience had been told what would take place, but few really believed it. Claire approached the girl, who was now visibly shaking. This Corrigan girl towered over the five foot two Claire, she must have been approaching the six foot mark, her slim build making her seem even taller. Claire was whispering into her ear, as she had to bend down to hear her instructions. The girl nodded, her face now gone from red to ashen as her shaking fingers tried to undo her jeans. Again Claire whispered something, and again the girl nodded. Claire then put down the paddle and undid Maureen's jeans for her, lowering them well past her knees. She then lifted the poor girl's t-shirt high up her back, revealing white ladybug patterned knickers. The t-shirt was then secured by tucking it into her bra strap. Caroline swallowed hard in anticipation. Then Claire's fingers went to the waistband of Maureen's knickers, the girl didn't know where to put herself, chewing on her bottom lip, staring at the ceiling. Soon enough her knickers to where around her knees, giving all in the room a perfect view of her surprisingly full pale buttocks. She quickly took her place over the desk, bent across resting on her elbows. From Caroline's prime seat she had a view of the girls bottom, and the hint of her underlying sex. Claire then moved to the girls left, and applied the first stroke. The paddle came down with a light popping noise, followed quickly by a shriek of pain. Claire stood back, and waited. A band of red started to emerge on the girls behind, a band of red with a couple of pale spots left by the air holes in the polycarbonate implement. Claire was in no hurry at all to finish her practised display, she waited till Maureen's wriggling had totally subsided before bringing down the second popping stroke. The second stroke was also greeted with an audible shriek of pain, again Claire waited for the pain to seep through the girls bottom before continuing. By the fifth stroke the room was full with the sound of the girls sobs, each stroke was now also eliciting a little bent over dance from Maureen as she tried to stamp the pain out from her bottom. This dance had forced her jeans and underwear down to her ankles, also as she wiggled and wriggled over the desk more than a peek of her dark pink labia was being afforded to all in the room. Caroline now felt a heat growing in herself, a heat she could do nothing to quench. After landing the eighth stroke, Claire waited for the girl to calm herself, before again whispering to her victim. Claire then helped the girl to her feet, and led her to the side of the desk. To all the audience's surprise she then placed her hands onto the top of her head and stood there, tearfully staring ahead into the darkness of the room. Now all the audience was given the front view of the girls not so private privates.

"Jonathon Danvers, please step forward." Called out Claire.

Then on to the brightly lit podium stepped forward Jack-the-lad. Caroline smiled at Jack being given his Sunday name of Jonathon, this was the part of proceedings that she, and many others in the audience had been waiting for. Standing in the bright lights like a stunned rabbit, he didn't look half as cocky as normal. In a vain effort to speed up proceedings he quickly undid his trousers, and pulled both them and his underwear down in one movement, and almost hurled himself over the desk. Yes, Caroline thought as she caught a fleeting glimpse of his limp genitalia, not half as cocky! Claire took up her place as before, Lexan paddle in hand, and brought it across he rather hairy arse. Unlike the earlier popping noise this blow gave off a solid thwack, whether she was harsher because he was male, or because like almost every other female on the sales floor at some point she had received from him a remark about the size of her tits, arse or legs? Caroline didn't know, what she did know however was that Claire was certainly hitting harder. As before she waited to let him savour the stroke before continuing any further. She followed the whole punishment like this, allowing each stroke to seep in before delivering the next one. Caroline noticed the muscles of his hamstrings tightening and shaking as he tried to keep position and not give away the amount of pain he was in. Claire also noticed his resilience, upon the sixth stroke he was still unmoved. So she changed tack a little, the seventh stroke she delivered with gusto to the top of his thighs. It worked as he called out in both pain and shock, a ripple of snigger's wafted around the audience, the eighth then fell almost straight after, giving him no time to prepare himself. Another scream of pain left his lungs. Claire then helped him to his feet, whispering her instructions to him. Like Maureen before him, Jack moved to the side of the desk hands on head, his eyes closed tight in pain and shame. All eyes were on his limp, tiny cock, Caroline felt a mixture of triumph and pity for him. She was one of the few people in the room to know that Jack's tiny state was mainly the result of nerves. Of course over the next few days, as all the girls talked about Jack-the-lad being only an inch or two away from being Jane-the-girl, she did nothing to correct or enlighten them.

Jane Murray then returned to the stage, and thanked the audience for their time. Wished them all a good weekend, but reminded them to keep closing sales, or it could be them next month up there on the podium.

Then the main room light came on and everyone filed out, leaving the half naked Jack and Maureen still standing on the podium.

Caroline thought back on the last six months, thought back on how she had enjoyed that afternoon, and all the others like them. Remembering how she used to think to herself, "I wonder how it feels up there?" In about eight hours time, she was about to find out.