Monday, 22 October 2012

Executive Disciplinary Procedures.‏

As Patricia O’Hara made her way to the company parking lot it was clear to anyone passing her that her mind was elsewhere. Though if any of her colleagues saw her, they would only imagine that the look of deep concentration upon Patricia’ face was due to some work related problem.
Ninety nine times out of a hundred that would indeed be the case, today though was that elusive one percent, one of those most rare of occasions after all a person doesn't rise as high as Patricia had in the construction industry by day dreaming or having too wild of a social life in her personal time.  For anyone to be that successful in the corporation, it took hard work and good political skills, but that person also had to be viewed as going the extra mile.  

Occasions such as this were indeed rare, the fact that she was the only female on the company’s executive committee spoke volumes about not only how hard Patricia was willing to work, but also about what she had been forced to sacrifice on her way to the top. Many new members of staff would wrongly think that perhaps she was there due to family ties; this error in their thinking was always cleared up by Patricia at the earliest opportunity. Though in fairness it was an understandable mistake as there are so few women other than secretaries and PA’s in this so male dominated environment.

Because of these quite wrong assumptions Patricia forced herself to have a professional aloofness with her staff, not that that meant she was unfriendly in anyway, just that she was reserved when it came to matters not concerning work. For instance it would never cross any of her junior’s minds to call her Pat, Patty, Patsy or Trisha, she was always known as Patricia or in more formal situations Miss O’Hara.
Patricia reached her parking space, her Prius looked so out of place amongst all the higher priced luxury vehicles surrounding it, like most things about Patricia her choice of vehicle made a statement about her.  Though she could easily afford a higher end vehicle, such as a Lexus or a Mercedes she had chosen the Prius for its frugality, reliability and low emissions.
As with her choice of transport, her choice of clothing also made a statement. Rather than try to hide her femininity Patricia made a point of showing it; at the office she would always wear skirts rather than slacks, though the cut of her skirts and dresses were always long, to the knee or just slightly higher, like her transport her clothes were understated. As she didn’t want to be known as “that chick who wins contracts by flashing her rack”, Patricia made sure that her tops were modestly cut and to her “casual Fridays” did not exist. Her only vanity was to make sure that her bee sting waist could be seen and wore clothing that showed her tight waist to its greatest advantage.
 She could easily have fallen into being ‘just one of the boys’ and stuck to wearing jeans and work boots when visiting sites. That was not for her though, at all times she had to look the professional executive, so for site visits she would wear trouser suits and ladies safety shoes. For her being a successful woman was a huge part of her identity and she had no intention of sacrificing any part of her psyche.

The trouble was though over the last few years Patricia had allowed her workplace persona to travel home with her, to interfere with her domestic life. She had become so used to making major decisions in the office and these decisions being carried out without question from her subordinates, she started to transfer that thinking to domestic life.
When Patricia said that they should leave New York and move out to Morristown in New Jersey, her husband Eric reluctantly agreed even though he preferred city life.
When they had married twenty years earlier Patricia said that they should limit themselves to only one child, even though from a large family himself, Eric agreed.
Patricia always picked their holiday destinations; again Eric as always silently complied.
Eric always bowed to Patricia’s decisions just like her juniors did at work; the difference was Eric agreed because he loved her.

Everyone though has a line that cannot be crossed and Patricia had found Eric’s line last year. Their son Kevin had wanted to go to NYU when he finished high school; Patricia tried to railroad him into going to  Notre Dame, Eric backed Kevin much to Patricia’s chagrin.
Then one sunny April night when Kevin was staying over at a friend’s house the inevitable argument exploded between Patricia and her husband.

“I can’t believe you are going against me in something so important!” Patricia spat at Eric.

Eric shook his head sadly then said.

“No Patsy, you just can’t take it that someone is disagreeing with you full stop. You’ve become so used to everyone just going along with you, you now just take it as a given. I know some of it is my fault and some of it is work, but I should have put my foot down years ago with you!”

“Put your foot down?” Patricia said, her pale blue eyes flashing in temper, “You are going to put your foot down….put your foot down when all I want is what is best for Kevin?”

“No for wanting what you think is best for him…the two things are not always the same you know?” Eric replied his anger now showing, “He doesn’t want to go off to Notre Dame, he is not interested in the whole Fighting Irish thing, and he wants to stay nearer home…”

Patricia stared at her husband not taking in the situation.

“So now I’m a bad mother…that’s what you are saying isn’t it?”

“God no that’s not what I’m saying at all..sometimes I just wish that someone had knocked some sense…or at least some sensitivity in you when you were younger!” said Eric in desperation.

“So what are proposing now, wife beating? Or are you planning to spank me?” Patricia then felt either her heart skip or her stomach flip as she said that last sentence.

The look on Eric’s face told her that if the idea was not there before it most certainly was now.

“Somebody should have spanked you years ago.” Eric said quietly as he reached out and took Patricia by her arm and led her into kitchen to the rear of their house.

To her shock Patricia meekly followed her husband, all the time though she was thinking ‘He wouldn’t dare…would he?’.
Half of her demanded to be right, strangely though half of her also wished to be wrong!

It was those memories that were running through her mind now as she pulled out of the parking lot.
How Eric had pulled a chair out from the kitchen table; how he then pulled her unceremoniously over his lap, how he then after lifting her summer dress high up her back spanked her pantie clad behind.

She slammed her brakes on as she realised that the lights had changed to red!
She sat behind the wheel trying to catch her breath; she then sat trying to get those memories out of her head. She was trying not to think of what could be – probably will be – awaiting her when she reached home.
She just couldn’t do it though, the memory of that spanking stayed so fresh in her mind. Also the memory of how Eric had made love to her straight after that spanking stood to the front of her mind, never had he been so attentive, never had she felt so centred. Perhaps he had been turned on by disciplining her, or maybe he felt some guilt and was merely showing her that despite everything he still loved her?
Whatever the case she could not get it out of her head, or the subsequent spankings that followed.
For that spanking was not a one off thing, in fact since that night four other times Eric had cause to bring her bring her back in line . He never gave her erotic spankings; each spanking was a punishment and dealt to her as a punishment. These spankings were not the long drawn out situations of erotic fiction or films. These were short sharp shocks meant to curb her behaviour and meant to make her a more considerate person.

However the location of the punishment did change, rather than the kitchen the bedroom became Eric’s chosen venue. Also rather than being over Patricia’s panties, it was her bared bottom that now faced his wrath!
Patricia knew though that each spanking would be immediately followed by make-up sex, to her mind that sex was always the best. Eric moving inside her with her bottom still hot and stinging. She never failed to reach orgasm in these post punishment couplings.
In fact to a degree she enjoyed the spankings; if only they weren’t as harsh as Eric always made a point of taking the spankings well out of Patricia’s comfort zone. For as far as he was concerned he was indeed delivering a punishment, to his mind for a punishment to work it had to be more than a few token love taps.  

With what had transpired today at the office, Patricia was sure that once she reached home that she would be in for one of Eric’s corrections. This time though she felt that it was no fault of her own, just a little bit of a misunderstanding, no more no less.
Yesterday she had call to reprimand Julia - her PA - over some missing files for a large riverfront plaza contract. She knew afterwards that perhaps she had been a little over the top with Julia and meant to tell her so today. The trouble was Julia had thought that Patricia was off today, which was an easy mistake to make as she was supposed to be off spending some quality time with Eric, but she had decided to come in to do a little catch up on the plaza contract in the morning leaving the afternoon free.
So under the impression that Patricia would be at home Julia rang her to apologise for the missing files fiasco and to tell her that she had now found them. That phone call sent the snowball on its path down the mountain.

Julia greeted Patricia with the files as soon as she arrived in the office; also she told Patricia of the phone call, she went on to say what a kind and understanding man her husband was.

“What do you mean by that Julia?” Patricia asked warily.

“Well he could tell that I was a bit know with all that happened yesterday..he was just so nice, saying that he would have a word with know to help sort things out.”

Patricia didn’t know whether she wanted to slap the girl’s face, or give her a big ‘thank you’ hug, such was the confusion of emotions that she felt towards Eric’s domestic discipline regime.
The rest of morning was a waste, she just freewheeled her way towards lunch time her mind drifting to what may await her when she got home.
Now driving past the the Spring Brook golf club she knew she wouldn’t have long to find out.
Pulling into their driveway Patricia sighed as the drive was empty, and then she remembered that Eric’s pickup truck was in the shop getting its annual service.

With shaking fingers she turned the handle of the front door. The door opened which meant only one thing, Eric was in!

“Hi Patsy, how was work…no missing files today…no assistants lives to make a misery of?” Eric asked as Patricia entered the lounge.

Patricia closed her eyes and shook her head as she stood there in silence.

“Common politeness goes a long way, you know not everyone works to your high standards…I think we have discussed this before if I’m not mistaken.” Eric said calmly as he remained sat upon the sofa.

Patricia opened her eyes though didn’t look at Eric; her eyes were cast down at the floor as she replied.

“It was just a little mix up, it’s all sorted out now.”

“Perhaps it is sorted out, but is your attitude sorted out?”

“I’m sorry…it was a big contract…” Patricia’s voice trailed off as she knew that Eric’s mind was already made up, he had already decided on adjusting her attitude.

“Pop along to the bedroom you know the routine.” Eric said as he picked up the TV guide and started reading.

Forlornly Patricia trudged off to their bedroom, all that was going through her mind now was how long would be before he followed her. This was a new thing that Eric had put in place two spankings ago, he thought that a little pre-spanking  time out would be good for Patricia, as it would help her to focus her mind on what was to come.
On entering the bedroom Patricia took off her dark grey jacket and carefully hung it in her wardrobe next she unbuckled her shoes and placed them to the side of the wardrobe.
Patricia undid her hair, then brushed it so that her long auburn locks fell down to frame and exaggerate the paleness of her face. Then putting the brush back upon her dressing table she went to take her allotted place by the side of the bed. Folding her arms behind her back, she waited.

Standing in this manner she often wondered what her colleagues would make of all this, would they even believe it even if they walked in upon her and Eric?

Most that knew her would think it impossible that she could give herself so meekly, so submissively. No one would think that this boardroom high flier could or would agree to such a situation. The fact of the matter was though at some deep dark level Patricia found her situation almost therapeutic.
She was giving herself both mentally and physically to her husband, she was stepping out of her ‘normal’ life to sometime long gone by. Some time that perhaps never really existed, save perhaps for in the I love Lucy Show.
A thought suddenly sprang to Patricia’s mind as she stared at the wall, ‘what underwear did I put on this morning?’ for the life of her she could not recall what she had put on this morning. She toyed with idea of checking, and then perhaps even changing into something more sexy if needs be, when she heard the footfall of Eric upon the stairs.

Eric entered the room and saw his wife standing obediently in her required position. He breathed deeply he took the scene in; there she was in a dark grey skirt and ivory blouse, her long hair flowing down across her shoulders, the sunlight catching and bringing out the redness of her tresses, there she was his beautiful wife waiting for his approval.
Waiting for his punishing palm.

He walked around the bed and sat down behind her.
He heard and felt her gasp, as he slowly lifted up her skirt till it cleared her womanly hips. Then Eric carefully secured the skirts hem by tucking it all the way around into its own waistband.
He then took hold of Patricia’s left hand, his finger rubbing over her wedding ring he then said in little more than a whisper.

“The sooner we start the quicker it will be over.”

Taking her cue Patricia moved past Eric then she draped herself over his lap, her eyes focussed now on the very familiar pattern of her bedside rug. As she looked at the Mahal pattern she felt Eric’s fingers tugging down her pantyhose. She knew that her denuding would be done slowly; slowly as to rank up her humiliation, slowly to take away her sense of maturity, slowly to make her feel like a naughty little girl!

Once her pantyhose were at her ankles, Eric concentrated upon the lowering of Patricia’s panties.

“You know it is really silly a woman of forty two having to have her bare butt tanned?” said Eric.

Patricia did not reply, as any reply would have just sounded vacuous.

Then once that her panties had joined her pantyhose Patricia knew that she would not have long to wait for the pain to begin.
Eric spanked hard from the very first slap, he had no intention of warming Patricia into a spanking, and he wanted the effects to be as instantaneous as possible.
Patricia did not know if Eric was a ‘good spanker’ or not, as he was the only person that had ever lifted a hand to her ass she had nothing else to compare to.
She did know though that he was a very effective spanker, his hand covered all of her butt and the tops of both hamstrings, he did so though in a random manner. He would not just spank alternatively from one cheek to another; his hand would sometimes fall perhaps three times in a row upon the same spot before moving off to a newer paler target area. He would continue till either Patricia was in tears - real tears though not the crocodile variety - or until he had painted her butt and the backs of her thighs bright red with his palm.
As always it took less than four minutes for Eric to have Patricia in tears and crying out her apologies for her behaviour.

Eric then helped his sobbing wife up to her feet; he pulled her close to him the weight of her breasts resting upon the top of his head, his mouth resting upon her tight stomach.
Patricia then felt a gentle kiss upon her belly, then one a little lower.

She knew that going for her run tomorrow would be a problem; she knew how raw her ass would still feel, then she felt Eric’s tongue probing at the slot of her sex, she knew that she would savour each and every pain filled step.

                             THE END.

Monday, 8 October 2012

The Second Red Box - Private Letters?

Jennifer lay in the bed basking in a double afterglow, her bottom was still hot from the spanking that she had just received from Paul, and she was still flushed from her orgasm in the post spanking sex. She also felt so wicked that they were in Paul’s house in the middle of the afternoon, the middle of a workday afternoon. That was one of the perks of going out with “the boss”; Paul had told his P.A. that he had to go to meeting about buying some new computers, and Jennifer as the head of I.T. would need to go with him.
No sooner were they in the house than Jennifer found herself over his knee with her skirt up. Jennifer could never really make her mind up about Paul’s obsession with corporal punishment; she wasn’t that sure if it was something that they had in common. She hated the pain of his punishments; oddly though she enjoyed the post spanking sensations, also when she knew that there was a punishment on the horizon the feeling of excitement turned her on, the actual pain though was another thing entirely.
Deep down she knew that she must be a spanko, if she wasn’t she would have slapped Paul’s face and resigned once she had learnt that he had tricked her into a caning by using a fake punishment ledger alleged to be from Victorian times, though in fairness to Paul, Jennifer had actually requested that punishment.

Now Paul was obsessing over two letters that he had found in the second red box left to him by his late uncle.
“If these are real they will be worth a fortune, not just to spankos but the British Museum would probably want them!” Paul said excitedly, as he came into the bedroom with two cups of coffee on a tray.
Jennifer sighed as she saw the two letters that were also on the tray. She had hoped that at least for this afternoon he would shut up about those dammed letters!
“Come on Jen read them one more time and tell me what you think. I don’t want to go to some museum with them only to get laughed out of the building.” Paul implored with his best puppy dog eyes.
“OK, give them here then.” Jennifer said shaking her head.
Jennifer then unfolded the first letter.

My dearest W,
I write this in a state of some confusion and disbelief, I have just entertained lady LP this very afternoon, she told me a tale that I under normal circumstances would not give the time of day to. However knowing your little – how should we say this – predilection for young ladies behinds and their chastisement, I feel bound to ask you of its veracity.
She told me that whilst visiting you on some matter of political importance, that a young lady came to you from the poorhouse with the hopes of gaining some employ as a maid in your home.
Upon the girl entering your study – Lady LP said that she would have been about nineteen years of age and quite comely in a common sort of way – you turned to Lady LP and told her.
“I always like to test a girl as to how she takes to discipline before letting them enter my employ.” 
Then according to you went to your bureau and took out a short horse whip. She told me the look of horror upon the young girl’s face would live with her forever!
She then said that you demanded that the poor girl lift up her skirts and bend over your sofa so that you could “test her mettle”, according to her the poor girl looked so distraught, but because she also seemed to be over awed to be in the company of someone as powerful as you she meekly and tearfully complied to your wishes.
She says the poor girl did not even have the benefit of drawers to either lessen the impact of your whip, or to save her modesty.
She said that when she bent over, not only was the girls pale naked buttocks on display but also the folds of her feminine purse could be clearly seen.
Then she said that you whipped the poor girl till she was brought to tears and impeachments for mercy!
As you stopped the girl’s physical torment, Lady LP said that you then proceeded to stand behind her fondling her beaten flesh remarking upon the heat emanating from her. She said that you even invited her to feel the poor wretch’s bottom.
She said that that was the final straw for her and she then left your study leaving you alone with the poor girl.
Please my love tell me that this story is not true, for I don’t think I could bear it for this to be so!
Yours CN

“Well it was clearly written by a female hand, so it could be genuine.” Jennifer said shrugging her shoulders.
“Trouble is that doesn’t mean much. Uncle George was a randy old goat and after his divorce he started teaching a creative writing course at the college, he told me he only did it so he could get into some of his students knickers, he even said to me ‘you see Paul nearly all the people who turn up for these courses are women in their thirties or early forties. Desperate housewives!’ So he would have plenty of prospective writers.” Paul said.
“A randy old goat eh? Must run in the family!” Jennifer said winking at Paul.
“Does your arse need re-warming?”
Jennifer shook her head in mock horror as she pulled the duvet up around her neck.
“Trouble is I don’t even know who Caroline Norton was.” Jennifer said peeking out of her protective bedclothes.
Paul sighed, as he went over old ground again with her.
“She was the mistress of Lord Melbourne when he was Prime Minister. Lord Melbourne was one of Queen Victoria’s favourites, she looked upon him as a father figure who educated and coached her in the ways of royal protocol.”
“A father figure, as in a strict Victorian father?” Jennifer said giggling at the idea of the young queen being spanked by her first minister.
“Well it had been rumoured! As it was common knowledge that he liked giving out the odd spanking to any receptive ladies; as a matter of fact Lord Melbourne just seem to stagger from one scandal to another. Lord Byron cuckolded him with his first wife Lady Caroline Lamb, it was her that said Byron was ‘mad bad and dangerous to know’.”
“I’ve heard of those two!” Jennifer said triumphantly, “Now their letters would be worth some money!”
Paul nodded, then handed Jennifer the second letter.

My dearest C
I am at a loss as to how you could take these accusations seriously. If I was to behave in such a manner I would be no better than an overseer on a cotton plantation, indeed I would be even worse, as the whipping that I allegedly administrated was without any real cause.
The fact of the matter is, that when one holds such a high office as I do one is always open for brickbats being hurled ones way.
Indeed Lady LP did come to see me at my home, she came with a petition from her husband, and she also made it clear that she amenable to any method to get that petition into parliament. She made it quite clear that she was open to using sexual favours to gain my compliance.
I admit that indeed I did indulge in a minor dalliance with her. I said to her, ‘madam I cannot believe that you think that the governance of the empire can be swayed by the charms of a lady, such arrogance cannot go unpunished’
I then sat down and patted my lap, indicating where I wanted her.
Without any complaints she lowered herself over my knees, indeed she even lifted her own skirts and parted the back of her drawers exposing to me her pale chubby cheeks. As you can imagine her cheeks did not stay pale for very long, as my hands got to work on them. In no time at all she was squirming upon my lap, her hips rising and falling either to evade or to meet my falling palm. In fact she seemed well versed in the delights of a good firm spanking, so much so that without any other ministrations upon my part I fetched her with just the touch of my hand upon her bottom.
Of course by now I was myself in the need of relief, rather than being unfaithful to you or making Lady LP be unfaithful to her husband I made use of her mouth, which again she seemed well versed in and gave no hint of shame as she took me in that manner.
The problems arose later when it became clear that I was not going to support her husband’s petition, after all I had not promised her that I would, though she seemed to think otherwise.
So the whole tale that she related to you was pure fiction on her part, no doubt just a bid to break up our relationship.

Your loving W

“So what do you think Jen?” Paul asked.
“Two lovers sending each other fantasy letters to get off on.” Jennifer replied.
Paul nodded, though he was hoping for something more definitive than that.
“So should I try and sell them or keep them?”
“Keep them, at least till you can get hold of samples of Melbourne’s hand writing.”
“I’d never thought of that.” Paul said, amazed that he could have missed something so obvious.
“I know typical male, goes at everything like a bull in a china shop!”

“You aren’t too big to go over my knee you know!” Paul said in his sternest voice.
“I know Sir, I’m such a cheeky girl I just can’t help myself.” Jennifer replied, then bit down on her lower lip and looked at him doe eyed.
“Yes well let’s get those cheeks over here!” Paul said as he tapped his lap in the same way the Melbourne did in the letter knowing that Jen had been turned on by the faked missives.
As Jennifer draped herself over Paul’s lap, he noticed that the redness of her previous spanking had not yet faded. So for the second time that day Jennifer found herself wriggling under the rapid falling of Paul’s hard palm, all doubts that she had previously held about whether she was really into spanking or not were now dispelled.
For the second time this month Jennifer was receiving corporal punishment due to one of Uncle George's Victorian forgeries!