Sunday, 27 July 2014

Dressed For Punishment

An earlier post, re-worked and loaded in its entirety.

(Inspired by seeing a girls unusual choice of office wear on my way to work on a summer's day.)

Amy woke up again, and looked at her bedside clock, 5.59, she moaned, and leant over to flick the alarm switch onto disarm. The night had been a fitful sleep, the heat in her flat making sleep hard, even naked she couldn't settle. It was one of those nights too cold to sleep on top of the bedclothes, and too hot beneath them. Then of course there was the other thing, the other thing that had been playing on her mind since yesterday lunchtime, she swallowed hard, her eyes closed, as she thought of was about to happen today. It was no good worrying about what was to come; she just had to get up, and get on with it. Whatever the day was to bring was all of her own making. After a very quick shower, she found herself with time on her hands. It was way too early to make her way into Newcastle. The idea of missing the rush hour appealed, but what would be the point, the office wouldn't be open, so anything she saved herself by travelling on an empty Metro would be wasted by having to stand in the square waiting for the office block opening.

Getting a taxi crossed her mind, but that would be more expense, and depending on today's outcome, an expense she could ill afford. Breakfast she thought, but her stomach was turning, and she dare not risk it. She could always look on that website again, but that would be like self torture now, now that a mild fantasy was about to become a stark reality.

A coffee and a ciggies, she could stomach that. Just.

After putting it off for an hour, she opened her parcel that her boss had given her, and read the note.

Dear Amy.

Please find enclosed your clothing for today. This is to find out if you can actually follow any instructions given to you. If you choose not to wear these garments, I will take it that you are handing in your notice, and any monies owed will be forwarded to you. Remember this is all your idea, so don't complain about today's outcome.

You will notice there is no underwear in this package,t hat is because you are not to wear any today. (I will be able to tell) I have enclosed a brolly should there be rain, no coat to be worn, only wear the clothes enclosed, and whatever shoes you think best suit for today, I would recommend trainers.

Amy looked inside the package and sighed. Black leggings and a thin white cotton t-shirt bearing the legend "Little Miss Naughty". What could she do but put them on?
The t-shirt was too tight; it fitted, but left too little to the imagination, and only just covered her navel, but what could she do?
The leggings seemed very thin, almost like dancers footless tights, but what could she do?
Looking at the bathroom mirror, she felt silly, dressed for aerobics, not for work, but again what could she do?
Leaving the brolly, as the day was set for another sunny one, she picked up her handbag and left her flat. Entering the lift, she looked at herself in the full mirror that took up all of the back wall of the small lift. She looked at herself and bit back the tears. The extra harsh lighting inside the elevator made her see now how she really looked. The leggings under this light were transparent; her charms open to be seen by whoever chose to look. Staring at herself in the mirror, she reflected on the events that brought her here. There was really no doubt that they were all of her own making.

On the previous Monday morning, at work at Mowbray Advertising, she was running off some work on the printer when it stopped working. The printer was in the IT office; the door clearly marked, No Food Or Drink Allowed In This Office, she ignored the sign, after all she would only be in for a couple of minutes max. Placing her can of coke on the new server, she tried to see what the problem was with the printer. Everything seemed OK, perhaps there was a lead loose. Going down on her hands and knees, she checked that all the leads were plugged in correctly.

Then it happened. A large spider ran across her hand; she jumped up in horror and stepped back quickly, her elbow catching her can, sending the black sugar laden liquid into the server. She stood dumbfounded; the server had only been put in last week, and she watched as the flashing lights seemed to die in front of her eyes. "Shit!" She cried out. Not knowing what to do, she made her way to Tom Mowbray's office, the main partner in the brother and sister business. Knocking on the door and entering Amy stumbled out the explanation of what had happened to her forty six year old boss. Tom sat behind his desk and shook his head, then raised both hands to his head to massage his balding temples.

Finally,he spoke. "I'm sorry, Amy, I'm going to have to ring Joan and tell her what has happened. She is going to want your head for this, she is always telling you all about the IT office. She will want you sacked, even if it's just to make an example of you. Not to mention the cost of having the server repaired, and then the data being put back into it. Again."

Amy knew that Tom was right, Tom's sister, Joan, may be the junior partner, but she was a right tartar, and a stickler for rules, unlike her easygoing elder brother. Then it came to Amy, a flash of desperation, a straw to clutch at. "Mr Mowbray," she said meekly. "could you not punish me yourself, in some other way?"

The two of them looked at each other, eye to eye, each waiting for the other to blink. The idea though was not as mad as it would seem, two months earlier Sue, one of the other girls at the office announced- "Tom's kinky!" to everyone in the outside ciggie shelter. Apparently Sue had been using Tom's PC, and he had either forgot, or couldn't be bothered, to clear his browsing history. "He keeps going on a site called Spankingtube, in work time as well!" Sue said beaming. "I don't know what it is, but it has to be a bit kinky with a name like that."

Everyone started laughing, everyone that is except Amy. Amy could feel her face redden, Sue had unwittingly hit a nerve with Amy. Since her early teens, Amy had been fascinated, and turned on by the idea of spankings, and now it looks like her boss has similar tastes. Or of course Sue could just be making it up?
That night when Amy got back to her flat, she rushed straight on to her laptop, to see if this site even existed. Indeed it did, her eyes were opened that night. So many of her dark fantasies being lived out in front of her eyes. Most were short clips, a minute or less; some though were real cohesive mini stories running into ten minutes to a quarter of an hour. She was hooked, no more soaps for her now, her early evenings were now spent watching naughty girls getting their bottoms warmed.

It is one thing though to have a fantasy, quite another to live it out for real. Finally, she blinked and looked away from Tom, her eyes falling to the floor. She sniffed back a tear, it had been worth a try, then Tom spoke again.

"Amy, have you told anyone about your little mishap with the pop?"

Amy shook her head, a lone tear tracking down her left cheek.

"Well don't then, I'll try to work something out. I have to warn you though, you are looking at a severe chastisement."

The elevator door opened, snapping her back to the present, as she walked along the corridor she dreaded the coming journey. "Severe chastisement?" She thought to herself; she had seen plenty of them, if only on the screen of her laptop.
"Laptop?" Is that how he was going to spank her? Bent across his lap like a naughty girl, like the naughty girl that her t-shirt proclaimed her to be? She could feel her face burning up again at the thought of it. Then she felt her stomach start to churn, as she walked out onto the street. What if he decided not to spank her over his knee?
What if he just cleared his desk, and made her lie back on it, and spanked her in what the Americans called the diaper position?
In these tights, her sex would be clearly visible, in the right light even her pubic thatch could be made out. She stifled back a sob at the thought of it.

Perhaps he wouldn't spank over her tights!

Maybe he would reach under her bottom, and ask her to lift up her hips, so he could slowly peel down her tights. Then she would be really on display; nothing hidden in that position; he would be staring straight down at her open sex. Looking at her traitorous pussy, damp and glistening, giving away her true feelings. She felt a wave of nausea cross her, but also she could feel the rough cotton rubbing against her erect nipples. She tried to walk quicker, to shorten her time in the bright sunlight, hoping for the sanctuary of the dark underground station. The faster she walked though, the more her nipples rubbed. The more her nipples rubbed, the more she was aware of their erect firmness, and the more aware she was, the harder they became. It was a self-perpetuating vicious circle. Finally, she made it into the station, and down the steps.
She took up at the end of the platform, and waited, praying that the train would not be full. Her prayers weren't answered; the train pulled in, and was standing room only. She got on, making sure she was last on, so that she could stand by the door for the short one stop journey. Now she had the dilemma of how to stand, or rather what to show to her fellow commuters. It was a simple choice, face the door and flash her arse, back to the door and flash a camel toe, and also her now hat peg nipples. She chose to let her fellow passengers see the delightful roundness of her bottom.

Then the train burst out of the darkness to cross the river Tyne, the bright morning sunlight flooded the carriage from the eastern side, making it clear to anyone who chose to look that she was indeed pantyless under those sheer tights. No sooner had the train been in the sun, than it returned to another underground burrow. To Amy that half minute seemed like an age.
An age of utter embarrassment!
The train pulled into the station underneath Central Station, and she leapt from the carriage as quick as she could. Then hung back, letting the bulk of the commuters go on ahead, knowing only too well what awaited her around the corner. She swallowed hard; the escalator had never before looked that long that steep, or that well lit.

As Amy contemplated the escalator, Tom Mowbray looked out of his office window sipping his coffee as he watched the activity in the small square below. He knew of course that Amy wouldn't come in to work today. If it had been one of the other girls, Sue perhaps, she may have just brassed it out and come in. Not Amy though, the shy little brunette would be in tears at just having to walk through the city centre in the clothes that he had given her. Still, it had been a bit of a lark, with Joan on holiday he could get away with his little joke, never having any real intention of sacking the silly girl. The server hadn't been badly damaged anyway; only the on/off switch burnt out, all the data was still there.
Though that didn't stop Tom putting a load of stuff onto an external hard drive, and then deleting it off the server. Just on the off chance of Amy actually coming in to the office, it would be like lines at school, a purely pointless exercise, he reasoned with himself. Also having the offices to themselves was no problem, as he and Joan had decided weeks earlier to have the office closed today so the staff could watch England play in the world cup. Of course, England being knocked out by Germany put a bit of a damper on that idea, but Tom had decided to declare it a holiday any way to thank all of the staff for being so hard working through the computer change over.
Also, just in case, he had put one of his Newcastle United slippers in his briefcase, because you never really know for sure. He had toyed with the idea of sending her over the road to one of the two sex shops to buy a paddle, or even sending her along Railway Street. The thought of her bobbing in and out of the timber merchants along there in search of a cane, dressed in those clothes amused him greatly. Of course though it was all just fantasy.

"Ah she'll never turn up!" he said to himself, just before he saw a small figure in black sheen tights, walk through the tunnel leading into the square.

For Amy the short walk from the Central Station had been a nightmare, once she had got out of the station, she found an area darkened by the shadows of the Victorian arches. She managed another quick ciggie there, the very thought of trying to go to Starbucks, as was her norm in the morning, made her feel physically sick. The idea of having to walk past all the usual suspects who would no doubt be sitting outside, she just couldn't stomach, even though she didn't know any of them, they were all used to seeing her, but never dressed like this.

Of course though, at some point, she would have to leave the shadowy comfort of the station, and face the effects of the bright sunlight upon her leggings. She had decided that to walk as quickly as possible, would be the way to get the embarrassing trip over with the soonest. So off she strode, up towards the suntrap of Times Square. Just before she reached the square, she caught a glance of two girls and a guy that she half recognised as working in the same office block as herself, crossing the road to her right. If the effect that her mode of dress, and the glances it was acquiring were not bad enough, what she heard next brought dampness to her eyes.

"Hey, look!" Amy heard one female voice from behind her say. "Oh, my god! It's enough to put me off my sausage bun!"

Another female voice said. "What must she think she looks like, and it looks like she's commando!"

Amy forced herself to walk faster, to get out of earshot dreading overhearing any comments from the male of the trio. Finally she reached the refuge of the tunnel leading to her workplace, now it was just a quick fifty yards or so to the office entrance. Fifty yards till she would have to face the nameless old security guards leering stare, he was bad enough on a normal morning but dressed like this!
Amy's supposition was not unfounded, as she walked through the glass doors to the shared foyer the guards eyes seemed to be out on stalks as he watched her walk in, and then followed her as she made her way up the stairs to the first floor. Half of Amy hated his lecherous looks, but to her surprise another part of her loved the extra attention that her new office wear was garnering her. Upon reaching the seemingly empty offices of Mowbray Advertising, Amy knew that at least one office would not be empty, that of Tom Mowbray's. Heart in her mouth,Amy,knocked upon his door. Equally as nervous though trying to hide it, Tom said overly loudly.

"Come in!"

Meekly, Amy entered the lions den.

"Thank you for coming in on such a glorious day, Amy." Tom said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "It would seem that I guessed your size perfectly, but we really should have a little uniform inspection. Don't you think?"

Amy stood in silence though, in her heart, she knew only too well what instruction was coming next.

"Hands on top of your head, please, Amy."

Dreamily, with shaking hands, she complied with his instruction, knitting her fingers together on top of her head, and standing up straight and proud waiting for his uniform inspection.

Tom Came out from behind his desk and approached Amy. "I will have to have a word with old George downstairs, and ask him to turn down the air conditioning, you seem to be a little cold," Tom said as his finger trailed over Amy's hard erect left nipple.

Amy felt her face burning up at both his observation, and his delicate touch.

"I'm very pleased to see that you followed my no underwear instruction, these leggings leave so little to the imagination, don't you find?"

Again Tom's question was met by silence; Amy merely swallowed hard and closed her eyes.

Walking behind Amy, Tom could feel his heart drumming in his chest as he looked at her sheen covered, rounded buttocks, he couldn't not give them a little pat to test out the feminine softness of those beautiful orbs. They were so soft but with a toned firmness giving a clear delineation between the buttocks and the tops of her thighs.

"Beautiful," he whispered to himself, but loud enough to catch Amy's ears. "Amy at some point today, it maybe this afternoon," Tom said regaining his composure, "or it may be this morning, I will call you in here for your well earned punishment."

Amy nodded, again gulping in fear or perhaps anticipation.

"Until then, I would like you to input the files that your little accident caused us to lose, I'll call you later." Tom then gave Amy's bottom the lightest of slaps to send her upon her way.

Amy sat, keying in on her computer, waiting for Tom's call. Waiting for Tom's punishing hand. Waiting there in her office dressed for punishment.


As Amy sat at her desk in nervous expectation, re-keying data and awaiting Tom's call, Tom sat at his desk in total bewilderment, what to do now?
He had never even expected the young clerk to arrive at work this morning, less so to come in wearing the ridiculous clothes that he had provided for her. There were odd little things in her behaviour that had also caught him unawares. The way she now called him Sir all the time, the way that she put her hands on her head so compliantly and unquestioning. It was almost as if she too was living out her own fantasy. Or was Tom reading too much into the situation, was it all just so much wishful thinking upon his part?
He was now on the horns of a dilemma, what was the girl expecting to happen next, and how far to take things with her?
To pass up on this opportunity to spank Amy, to let her off with just doing the pointless keying would be one option. The option that Tom knew to be the most sensible one to take from the legal point of view, but it still struck Tom that Amy was, in fact, expecting, perhaps even craving corporal punishment of some sort. If indeed she was expecting a spanking, was she expecting it to be over her leggings, or with her leggings down or even removed for that matter?

The road to an industrial tribunal for sexual harassment seemed to be already well trod upon, so would he by suggesting a bare bottom punishment make matters that much worse?

Tom looked at his watch then realised that he had spent almost two hours thinking over his predicament. It was no good; it was now time to take the bull by the horns. He strode purposefully from his office to the outer office and said to Amy, "Would you like coffee or tea?"

"Er, tea, please, sir, a little milk no sugar." Replied Amy, taken by surprise by Tom's question. She had been expecting something far more ominous.

"Do you want to pop out for a smoke, Amy?" Tom asked, now feeling foolish at his impotence, for he had got this far and then fallen at the last hurdle.

"Er... no..., Sir I'd rather not today." Amy said, blushing and indicating with a wave her current dress and forcing out a smile. "I'd much rather not."

"Well you could sneak off to the ladies; there are no smoke sensors in there, I promise I won't tell if you don't." Tom said in a conspiratorial tone. "It will be like being at school again!"

To a certain extent it, to Amy it was indeed like being at school again, as she drew deeply on her cigarette. This was being at the school of her hidden fantasies, the school where bad behaviour was treated with a very sore bare bottom. The school where, well for today anyway; Tom was the headmaster, the headmaster that was keeping her in wait for her well earned, well yearned for punishment. She took her last draw upon her cigarette and threw it into the toilet. "I wonder how long he will keep me waiting?" She said to herself as she flushed the bowl.

Back in his office Tom had now decided upon his course of action, at eleven o'clock he would call her in here, he looked again at the clock on his desk, forty five minutes to go. At eleven fifteen, Tom picked up his phone and rang Amy's extension. "Miss Mathews, can you pop in now please?"

"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" Was the reply that he heard in his receiver.

Amy knocked on Tom's door before entering. Politeness? Or another bit of fantasy play?

Neither party really new for sure.

"Before we go any further, I was wondering what you took severe chastisement to be, Miss Mathews?" Tom asked the small brunette in front of his desk.

"Well..." Spankings! Canes! Paddles and leather tawses, Amy thought to herself but replied. "I don't really know, Sir, I suppose whatever you feel fit. After all, I did make a huge mistake." Amy said her eyes now looking down at the diamond pattern blue carpet.

"Well anything less than..." Tom said, then cleared his throat with a nervous cough. "a really harsh spanking would be letting you off lightly, don't you agree?"

"Yes, sir." Amy replied glumly, still avoiding any eye contact with her soon to be chastiser.

"Also, I wonder do you think that you deserve the benefit of having your bottom covered?" Tom asked, biting the bullet of possible future litigation.

"No, Sir I don't deserve any protection against your hand." Amy whispered almost inaudibly.

"I'm sorry what was that, Amy?" Tom asked not really believing his ears.

"I.. said that I don't...don't deserve any protection from your hand, Sir." Amy repeated, her voice almost breaking.

"Come around here please." Tom said, pointing to the side of his chair.

Slowly, very slowly, Amy made her way to Tom's side her knees feeling like jelly. Tom swivelled his chair around to face her.

"Your foot, please, Amy," Tom said to the shaking girl. "either one first."

"Wha.. what?" Amy asked total confusion on her face.

"Well I can't take off your leggings while you are still wearing your trainers. can I now?"

Amy lifted first her left, then her right foot up onto Tom's lap, knowing all too well that soon she would be going half naked across that same trousered thigh. Tom made short work of removing her trainers, quickly undoing the single bow knots and pulling the shoes clear of her small pop sock clad feet. Amy stood, her arms and hands flapping nervously by her side as she stared up at the tiled ceiling, not really knowing what to do with her hands, waiting for what she knew would be coming next. She felt Tom's hands reach round, one hand on each bottom cheek, he then pulled her towards him.

"Sorry, sir!" Amy said as she stumbled slightly.

Then she felt his fingers go to the elasticated waistband of her leggings, she gasped then held her breath.

With his eyes level with Amy's tummy, Tom started to slowly peel the sheen tights down over her hips. Tom swallowed hard as the dark triangle of Amy's pubic bush came into view. He continued lowering her tights till they reached her ankles, unbidden she lifted first her right foot, then the left, so that Tom could pull the garment clear of her legs. There she was now standing in front of him, naked from the waist down, apart from her short white pop socks, feeling exposed and foolish. Then Tom moved to pull her over his knee, his chair moving under him as he reached out to her waist.

"This is no good, Amy," he said. "this chair is not really stable. Pop out to the reception desk and get me one of the wooden chairs."

Amy quickly padded out of the room, with Tom watching the fluid movement of her pale cheeks, each step creating a gentle ripple in her light pink flesh.

Reaching the reception, she darted out and grabbed a chair, rushing back before anyone could see her state of undress through the outer glass door. When she got back to Tom's office, he was standing in front of his desk, she held the chair out in front of her glad of the shielding effect of it's backrest. No matter how briefly it was, going to be hiding her already seen pussy. Without having to be told, Amy placed the chair down by Tom's side, her hands dropping to replace the job that was being done by the backrest. Tom sat, then pointed in silence at his lap. Amy, without any argument draped herself over his lap, steadying herself with her hands on the floor in front of her and waited. She didn't have to wait long, but it seemed like a lifetime, Tom's right hand came down upon her right cheek with a resounding slap. The noise of the impact to her ears seemed to echo throughout the room; then it was followed by another, this time to her left cheek. Then Tom built up a regular alternating rhythm, moving his hand from one cheek to the other. Though each slap caught Amy's breath, it wasn't that bad, it was bearable almost pleasant in a way. Often she had thought about self spanking just to see how it felt, twice she had tried, but could never get the force just right. Each time, she found herself pulling out of the required force to make it feel like a real punishment, but like Goldilocks she found Tom's hand to be "just right".

Well anyway she did at first, until Tom started to build up speed, and stopped alternating cheeks. Instead,now the spanks were raining down in flurries, little salvos upon one cheek at a time. Amy found herself now squirming on Tom's lap as the heat built up in her bottom, causing Tom more than a little discomfort as the constant movement of Amy's naked lower body across his groin was having the obvious effect upon him. So much so that Tom felt that he could be in danger of premature orgasm, with the combined effects of her movement, and the feel of her soft springy bottom on his palm. To alleviate this danger, Tom changed his and Amy's position, with a little bit of wrestling he managed to hook his right leg over the back of Amy's legs, locking her into a more steady position scissored between his left thigh, and his right hamstring. In this more stable position, he felt that he could increase again the rapidity of his spanking, ignoring Amy's squeaks and screams. Ignoring the office door opening. Not noticing the figure of his sister Joan until he heard her voice above the sound of his busy palm, and Amy's fruitless pleading.

"What the hell is happening in here," Joan shouted. "and how long has this been going on for?"


Neither Amy or Tom, where aware that Tom's sister Joan was going to "pop in" to the office, to see how they were getting on with the new server. Joan was impressed that young Amy had volunteered to help her hapless brother out and had given up her day off to do so. The least she could do was pop in on her way home to see how they were faring.

So still mud splattered and wearing her jodhpurs, riding boots and an old sweatshirt. She had called into Gregg's and bought some sausage rolls as a treat for her workers on her way back home from the stables. As she unlocked and entered the reception, she was greeted by strange sounds seemingly coming from Tom's office.
Very odd sounds.
Though not as odd as the sight that greeted her as she opened Tom's door. There facing her was Amy's pinked bare bottom, and her elder brother spanking away at it.

"What the hell is happening in here," Joan shouted. "and how long has this been going on for?"

If there were one thing guaranteed to ruin Tom's ardour. It was the sound of his little sister's voice catching him living out one of his sexual fantasies. If there were one voice that Amy didn't want to hear at this moment, - apart from perhaps that of her parents - was the sound of Joan Mowbray entering the room.
Reactions were almost immediate; Amy burst into tears; Tom struggled to unlock their legs and help Amy to her feet, all the while floundering to make a cohesive sentence, to answer his sister with.

"It's not... well... we aren't... you see... er!" Tom struggled out.

"Don't you dare say it's not how it looks!" Joan almost screamed. "It's one thing you are diddling a member of staff, but another thing using our offices for your kinky sex games!"

Amy was at a loss at what to do or say, standing facing the two warring siblings; her hands locked over her pubis, tears streaming down her face.
How could something that was going so well turn so bad, he wondered?
Desperate for Joan not to think that she was gaining any sort of sexual satisfaction from Tom's treatment Amy interrupted the oncoming fight.

"Miss, miss, please miss!" She pleaded to get Joan's attention, wondering to herself why she called Joan miss, as she never has on any other occasion.

"Yes!" Joan said curtly, glaring at the almost naked clerk.

"He is right," Amy said, her eyes now downcast to the floor. "it's not a sex game. It was a punishment."

"Oh, this just gets better by the minute." Joan said, now turning her glare back to her brother. "Who do you think you are lord of the manor spanking one of the maids for not dusting properly? Or have you watched Secretary one too many times?"

"Let's just leave it at that," Tom said trying to calm his sister down. "it has all been sorted. Amy preferred this course of action to other.. er.. possible repercussions."

Still convinced that she had caught the two of them in a sex game, Joan was not so willing to let it lie. For unknown to Tom, Joan was all too aware of Tom's Spanking predilections.

When Tom and Joan were both still living at their parent's home, and Tom was at work during Joan's college holidays, Joan would always rummage through her brothers room. During one such rummage, she found his stash of old spanking magazines, copies of Janus, and Uniform Girls, these all made fascinating reading to Joan. A fascination that the dawn of the internet, allowed her to furtively continue. To this day; that's all it had been to Joan though, a mild curiosity.
Amy was a real surprise to Joan, obviously she was more than just curious. Unless of course they were telling the truth, and it was indeed a real punishment?

"So pray tell what heinous crime did young Amy commit, forget to fill your stapler," Joan said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "or left her coat over the back of her chair instead of in the cloakroom, maybe break some uniform code that I'm unaware of. Do, please tell Tom I'm dying to know?"

Amy, seeing the way that Joan had looked at her, and the silly t-shirt she was wearing when talking of a uniform code, realised that as far as Joan was concerned she had walked in on a foreplay session. Desperate to dispel that notion, and without thinking Amy interrupted.

"Miss it was the new server! I broke it... it was me that spilled the pop on it!"

Tom noticed the look on his sister's face change; she went from that of rage to that of sheer joy; her eyes now lacked their previous venom and now seemed to shine in excitement.

"That can't be right, Amy," Joan said. "you couldn't have spilt pop on the server. All food and drink are expressly forbidden in the coms. room. Aren't they?"

"Well I only meant to be in there for a few seconds, then the printer..." Amy's voice trailed off, as she realised that all she was doing was digging a deeper hole for herself.

Joan looked at Amy, wondering how all this was going to pan out, wondering if she could at last quench her curiosity. Joan had never seen herself as one of the girls in the magazine being spanked - not her thing at all - but one of the strict ladies dishing out punishments? That would be a different story.

Tom interrupted Joan's daydream. "As you can see, Joan, the matter has been dealt with already!"

"Oh, you think so?" Joan replied and then continued. "I'm not so sure. The little play spanking that you were giving her, may indeed have satisfied you but for something as serious as this, a couple of taps on her bare botty is barely enough. In my opinion anyway, though that seems to count for little around here these days." Then after a few moments of deep thought, Joan said, "Amy, hands on your head please!"

Like one of the models in Tom's old magazines, Amy complied, though with somewhat shaking fingers. Standing now hands on her head eyes tightly closed, her short t-shirt lifted high up above her oval inny bellybutton Amy was again fully aware of her exposed nakedness.

Joan looked the poor girl up and down, her eyes coming to rest upon the thick thatch of pubic hair, reminiscent of the grainy black and white photos in some of Tom's older mags.

"Amy, a trim every now and again might be an idea you know," Joan said, enjoying the power she had over the young clerk. "for one so young you don't seem to be that fashion conscious."

Amy sniffed back a tear at this latest humiliation.

"Right turn around please." Joan ordered, and Amy obeyed.

Then Amy started as she felt Joan's right hand first gently brush, and then knead each fleshy cheek.

"Hardly even warm!" Joan noted. "No, this is not punishment enough for the trouble that she has caused!"

Tom felt the need to speak up, to tell the truth, to save Amy any further pain and embarrassment. He stood in silence though. He reasoned the truth would only cause him to lose face, and probably not appease his sister anyway. Also, deep down he wanted to know what his sister had in mind for Amy.

"As luck would have it, I have just the thing in my car to up the ante a little." Joan said, then added. "I will make this a real punishment, then the slate will be wiped clean. OK, Amy?"

Tom held his breath waiting for their young employee's answer.

Amy knew she had gone this far, to turn back now would be foolish. "Yes Miss." She mumbled.

"Good!" Joan said, giving Amy's bottom a little slap. "I shall be right back. Amy you can wait as you are. In silence. Tom, do something useful and clear the floor, move that chair and push your desk back." With that, Joan left the room.

Amy stood hands on top of her head facing the wall, again wondering what the day was to bring her now.

The spanking from Tom, though not harsh had stung and warmed her bottom, for that matter not just her bottom. In truth, she had found it in a way enjoyable, almost like the pain and pleasure mixture of a love bite, but Joan arriving on the scene was a different thing altogether. The humiliation of being spoken to by another female in such a way was so different to the almost joking sexual innuendo that she had received from Tom. Her biting words and the slap that she had given to Amy's bottom, had affected her far deeper than she could understand and now what was to follow?

Tom for his part, as he too in silence followed his little sisters instructions, also wondered what Joan had in mind that needed the floor space to be cleared in such a way. He felt the urge to say something to Amy, either by way of apology or words of encouragement, but he kept his silence, his eyes locked on Amy's pink full bottom.

They did not have long to wait for Joan's return from the subterranean car park.

"Right, Amy we might as well get this over with shall we?" Joan said as she returned to the room.

Amy gasped; eyes agog as she saw the black riding crop in Joan's hand.

"Twelve strokes with this, Amy, then you can return to your desk." Joan said in an almost sing-song manner, the smile on her face was as if she had just offered Amy an ice cream on a hot summers day. "Or you can just get dressed and go home. The choice is yours." She then added ominously.

"Joan you can't be serious!" Tom interrupted.

"Shush, Tom!" Joan said to her brother, but with her eyes still locked with Amy's "This is between Amy and I, it was my direct instruction that she chose to ignore with such disastrous results. Normally I would have just sacked her, but she decided she wanted to go down this path. So that's her choice to make now, the crop, or home."

What choice was it really, this morning when she came into work she didn't know what Tom had in mind for her anyway, so how was this such a great departure from some of the images that her mind had conjured up, both in her sleep and on her journey here? That crop though, it did look vicious, but really the choice had been made when she set foot outside her door this morning.

"Yes Miss, I would prefer to take your punishment please." Amy replied, shocking herself even at the subordinate nature of her voice and words.

"Good that's settled then." Joan smiled, and nodded at the wiseness of the young girls decision. "Amy you look fairly fit and flexible?"

"Er... yes Miss, I jog a little and do Pilates." Amy replied bewildered at the question.

"Good." Joan said, her face now beaming and her eyes almost shining in excitement. "If you could go to the centre of the room, stand feet well apart."

Amy obeyed although somewhat hesitatingly.

"No dear, not like that, feet further apart wider than your shoulders. That's it perfect! Now bend over and grab your ankles please."

Amy closed her eyes tight in shame, she knew only too well the display she would be giving in that position. She was well familiar with the view it would offer, not from personal experience of course, but from the videos and the pictures she had seen. So often she would watch some girl being bent like that, and fantasised that it could be herself, now was the dark reality of it. In position, she opened her eyes looking back through her splayed legs she could see Tom standing at the back of the room. She knew only too well that standing there he would have a perfect unhindered view of her open glistening damp sex.

Joan glanced at Tom and gave him a conspiratorial smile that look caught Tom by surprise, never had he even suspected that he and his kid sister shared these tastes.

"Six strokes in this position to start with." Joan said, then brought the crop across Amy's proffered behind, the small leather tag at the end of the crop arriving with more of a "splat" than a "crack".

Joan had no wish to really cause Amy any injury, it was more the symbolism of her power over her that she wished to convey. Though having said that it still stung enough for Amy to know of it, and also to leave it's telltale oblong red mark.
By the fourth stroke, Amy was shaking trying hard to hold a position that is awkward to keep at the best of times, never mind when someone is whipping your bare bottom.

"Your doing very well, Amy! Isn't she, Tom?" Joan said, noticing the girls shaking frame. "Only two more to go."

Joan brought the next two strokes down, in quick succession realising that Amy would not be able to keep her balance for that much longer.

"Right dear back up, please, that's the first six done with." Amy stood back upright, her hands automatically going to her rear to try and rub away the sting.

"No, no, no! Hands back on top of your head, plenty of time to rub later." Joan chided the young girl. "Let's have little peek." Joan added pushing Amy's rubbing fingers away.

Joan slowly traced her fingers around each of the six little red oblong blocks. Amy breathed deeply at her touch, wincing as her fingers made contact with the punished area.

Amy tasted the bitter salty taste of a lone tear on her lips; this was all that she had imagined it would be, sweet, sweet humiliation.

The two siblings in the room were also caught up in the electric charge that seemed to be hanging in the air.

"Over the desk now please dear, hold the far end with your fingers and push your bottom right out. The next six I'm going to give you a little quicker, so it will soon all be over, but they will also be a little harder. OK?"

"Yes Miss!" Amy gasped.

True to her word, each stroke was quicker and harder, than the previous six. Each stroke causing Amy to cry out in pain, til the last caused her to cry out in relief. Then it was all over, Amy slumped across the desk, gasping to catch her breath, it hadn't been six strokes but ten. By the time, she had applied the sixth stroke Joan sensed Amy was so close to orgasm that she continued, adding another four at a slower, but much firmer rate until she saw the tell tale emulsion oozing from Amy's pussy. Tom and Joan watched and waited for Amy to pull herself together and rise from the desk. Elated and shamed, she turned red faced towards her bosses.

"Thank you Miss." she whispered.

"No problem, Amy," Joan said. "be aware though that now you are liable for corporal punishment now for any further indiscretions that either myself or Tom discovers."

"Yes Miss!" Amy nodded enthusiastically.

"Now I believe you still have quite a bit of keying to do?" Joan said smiling pleasantly

"Yes Miss." Amy said going to pick up her leggings.

"Oh! No need for them, Amy," Joan said taking the black tights from Amy's hands. "it's so warm in here you don't really need them till you go home, and I imagine you have quite a hot bot now anyway?"

Biting on her lower lip Amy nodded and left the office to go back to her desk, the two siblings watching her depart both pairs of eyes locked on her swaying pink bottom cheeks.

Pink bottom cheeks chequered with darker red oblong blocks. Both minds wondering what excuse they could dream up for a further day of Amy being dressed for punishment.


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