Abaconti hated reading in the back of the car. He also hated to admit it but it made him feel every bit as car sick as he did as a small boy. Then there was a jolt and the papers spilled on to the floor.

“Sorry about that Mr Abaconti,” Alice, his driver, said anxiously.

“You will be,” he growled. Then looking around at the unfamiliar industrial estate he asked, “Where are we anyway?”

Alice shrugged.

“I must have taken a wrong turn, this is a dead end.”

Maxwell Abaconti said nothing.

Then as the car began to reverse he reached for the phone. It rang twice before Judith picked up the phone at the other end. She was learning.

“Mr Abaconti? Is there anything wrong?” Judith asked.

“Call Anna Merry at the Abaconti Hotel and tell her I am going to be late,” he instructed.

“Yes Mr Abaconti,” Judith replied breezily.

Judith put the phone down with relief. As Mr Abaconti’s secretary, Judith Humble was already in trouble. They both were. Only that morning before his departure, Abaconti had given his office staff a taste of his displeasure. Judith eyed Clare Wilson, her junior, who was still standing in the corner after being caught photocopying her bare backside of all things.

The girl’s bottom still displayed the evidence of a vigorous spanking received less than two hours before, a spanking that Judith had shared for the junior’s shortcomings. Now they both had to work without skirts and underwear. Judith only prayed that no one wanted to see her.

As the main culprit, Clare had to stand in the corner for the rest of the morning and stay an hour late every night that week to make up for the time wasted. That meant of course that Judith had to stay late as well, which was especially annoying as Judith had already been told that she would be required to ‘work’ Saturday morning.

Judith knew from past experience that Saturday morning would be spent in the same corner where Clare now stood, after another spanking, of course.

She stared ruefully at Clare’s swollen red nates as she massaged her own rear end. I wonder who got it worse, she thought, by Saturday afternoon it will be me anyway, no contest, she concluded as she turned back to stand at her typewriter.

Several miles away in the back of his car, Abaconti still struggled with his papers. For a man who had spanked two women that morning it was perhaps surprising that his mind was elsewhere. The figures for the Abaconti were very good, but one of the guests had complained, an important guest. Anna Merry had assured him that everything was under control, but Abaconti wanted to see for himself.

“What’s the hold up now?” He asked suddenly realising that they had hit traffic.

“I don’t know Mr Abaconti, don’t worry I know another way.”

That proved to be famous last words. After another half hour of driving, Alice had taken them down another dead end.

“Oh hell,” she cursed under breath as she tried to back up.

The car made it as far as a hedge before the wheels began to spin. After several attempts, Alice rested her head on the steering wheel in defeat.

“Alice, how many times have you driven from my office to the Abaconti before?”

“I am sorry Mr Abaconti, but I wanted to try another route this morning.”

“I see,” Abaconti sighed. “Alice step out of the car.”

“Yes sir,” Alice said meekly.

She knew what was coming. No sooner had they both got out of the car than Mr Abaconti told her to remove her smart grey trousers.

“And my knickers too Sir?” Alice asked humbly.

“I think so, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Alice replied, as she stepped out of both, nearly falling over as she tugged them past her shoes.

Then Alice stood naked from the waist down wearing her jacket and chauffeur’s hat at the side of the road.

“Would you get it please Alice.”

“Yes sir.”

Alice walked a little self-consciously to the back of the car and opened the boot. There she found a short wooden paddle kept for the very purpose it was about to be employed for. She handed it to her boss.

“Bend over the boot of the car.”

“Yes sir,” Alice sighed, still looking around in case they were seen, not that it would have deterred Abaconti one bit.

When Alice was bent over with her legs together and her bottom sticking out, Abaconti moved behind his driver. Alice waited with her eyes fixed firmly ahead of her. There was a long pause.

Then the paddle struck, the crack echoing off a stand of trees like a distant shot gun. Alice grunted and jiggled her bottom for the burn. The next swat was harder and the next.

Abaconti set a spanking pace with a swat perhaps every two seconds. Alice had no time to recover from each before the biting sting was piled on again. In a few moments she was breathing heavily and blinking back tears.

“Alice if you fail me again this week in the slightest regard, you will spend Saturday afternoon arse up over a trestle getting a prolonged taste of the birch.”

“Yes sir,” Alice gasped. She earnestly hoped he was joking. Saturday was her day off and besides, the birch was a bitch, especially as she had to go out into the nearby woods and collect the makings dressed very much as she was now. Leastways that’s what usually happened.

Abaconti firmly paddled Alice to an approximate count of 50. She could take it, especially this quickly, but he had no time to dawdle however much as he would like to.

“Alright Alice, let’s get underway.”

“But Sir, the car is stuck.” A tear rolled down one cheek as she stood up clutching her bottom and doing a little dance for him.

“I am confident you will manage.”

Alice winced as she eased her bare bottom onto the seat. But after much puffing and panting she managed the car back on to the road and they were soon on their way.

“Alice.”

“Yes Sir.”

“I wish to be there within the hour. If we are not then Saturday will be very hot and tight for you.”

“Yes Sir,” Alice replied wearily.

Ends