Paying for it

09Jul13

otk spanking“You are going to pay for that young lady,” he growled as she stood trembling in the middle of the room.

“What do you mean?” she gulped.

“You know perfectly well what I mean, I am going to bare your prissy little bottom and give you the spanking of your life. And if I don’t think you are sufficiently penitent, then you’ll feel the cane or birch or anything else I deem necessary do you understand?” His eyes smouldered just like her college mentor’s used to when he was dressing her down. Marcus even had the same strong jaw and broad shoulders.

“You can’t possibly… I’m over… 30-years-old… it’s outrageous…” she spluttered.

It was true. She was a big shot City lawyer, or so most people thought. Today she was even still dressed in her cool sharp charcoal pin-stripe skirt-suit. Her hair was still piled up in a sophisticated bun in an attempt to make her look older and with more gravitas.

Only that morning she had sat down with two company chairmen and a senior partner. That was her world not this. She blanched.

“As long as you are under this roof you will do as you are told and there are consequences for your actions. Do you hear me?” he growled.

“But…” she blushed and looked uneasily at the door. Was it still too late to flee? Not a serious question if she was honest, but still it bothered her that someone on the other side might have heard his words. The thought did nothing for her blush which grew like a forest fire on her face.

“You may well be embarrassed young lady, but you have a serious spanking coming. By the time I am done with you will know the meaning of being embarrassed. You are going to be one sorry girl,” he said sternly.

Marcus didn’t wait for her to argue further. He took two strides towards her and took her by the arm. Then leading to the couch he sat down and tumbled her easily across his lap.

“Please Marcus, I’m sorry,” she felt 18 again as she sprawled helplessly face down on his knees, her bottom feeling too large now as it domed up across his thighs.

She felt his hand on the zip of her skirt and draw it down with a zizz. The button gave him some difficulty and was wild with the thought that he might set her on her feet again and make her take her own clothes off. Then he managed and the skirt was free.

In a moment she was exposed above the tops of her stay-up stockings. Her knickers were brief and high-cut and lacy almost like a thong. She hoped he liked them, she thought incongruously.

Her pated her bottom lightly but didn’t linger. Instead he helped her off with her jacket until she was left in just her blouse and underwear. The hem of her work shirt barely covered her bottom, but even this comfort was quickly removed.

“Now young lady don’t tell me you don’t deserve this,” he said sharply as he tugged gently on her briefs, teasing her in a will-he-won’t-he way.

“You can’t do this,” she protested, “I’m over 21… you have no right.”

That might have made up his mind, for in a trice her knickers were down and sliding down her legs.

She gasped at the exposure and hugged into his thighs in a forlorn bid to hide herself.

“I am going to start with my hand and then move on to the hairbrush,” he told her.

“Please Marcus, you can’t…” she wailed.

It was to no avail. His hand smacked her sharply and she yelped. The sting and tingle on her bottom now exactly the shape and size of his hand. It hurt and the way she had bucked to perhaps reveal herself was mortifying, but part of her savoured it. He was going to put her firmly in her place and there was not a damn thing she could do about it.

The next spank hurt a little more and was quickly followed by several more so that she bucked and squirmed on his knee. The crisp impacts of his hand were loud and there was no way someone beyond the room couldn’t hear. What did they think about a 30-something brat getting her comeuppance? What if the girls in the office found out?

The spanking went on and on, burning her tail and setting her jaw to a clench as she struggled not to cry out or give him any satisfaction at all.

“Did you think you would get away with it? What were you thinking?” he scolded her in an exasperated tone.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed, her face screwed up and struggling with the blaze in her tail.

He could tell she was close to the edge by the way she was breathing like an Olympic runner.

“Let’s see if you are,” he said sternly as he took up the hairbrush on the coffee table.

She licked her lips and began to struggle frantically. His grip on her was formidable and way beyond her small frame to resist.

“Please Marcus I said I’m sorry, can’t we talk about this?” her voice was on the edge of tears now.

“I prefer to let this do the talking,” he barked.

At ‘this’ was an impossibly sharp impact of the flat side of the brush.

“Ahh,” she groaned.

It was the least of her expletives as the spanking began in earnest.

“By the time I am done with you, you won’t sit down for a week,” he promised.

The relentless spanks were untenable now and she snatched frantically at the seat and his legs finally chuckling to open sobs.

“That’s it, let it all out girl,” he soothed.

His words belied the weight of his arm which was merciless in its assault on her bottom. By the time he finally let up she was a bawling mess and ready to crawl into his arms.

“We are not done yet,” he whispered even as he stroked her hair.

“Please Marcus, not the cane I really couldn’t…” she began to babble and beg, it was liberating in a way no decision was required. She would beg her heart out and he would do whatever he wanted with her.

“I’ll think about it. I have another girl to see, so you can go and stand in the corner,” he told her.

“Please Marcus… don’t let her… it’s too…” she was babbling again.

“Be a good girl now or I will fetch that cane,” he warned.

She was thoroughly cowed and nodding meekly, she made her way to the corner where she stood facing it and unmoving. Her bottom felt like two hot stones behind her and if she could but touch them, she would have felt a hard leathery heat. She knew her bottom was more than a little red.

Marcus left her there for an age. Occasionally she could hear him talking; on the phone perhaps? Or was someone really there? Could they see? Her face glowed red to rival her bottom. God, if people at work knew about this, she thought, scarcely able to breath.

A good while later Marcus returned and released her.

“Was that okay?” he said.

She nodded.

“I didn’t go to the cane today… I mean I thought…” he said seriously.

“No, you did right I think… but don’t be so easy on me next time,” she told him as she reached for her clothes. “Is cash alright again?”

“Fine,” he said casually, “Do you want a drink or something?”

“No thanks, I have a client to see in an hour,” she sighed.

“Yes me too,” he said.

ends



3 Responses to “Paying for it”

  1. 1 paul1510

    Damian,
    I took entirely another meaning, very good. 🙂
    Paul.

  2. 2 Mike

    That’s great. Just great. Here I am on the downhill side of things already and NOW I hear about a career opportunity that would have made me AND my employers happy.

    Eh, all’s not lost. A man should have a hobby he can be passionate about in his golden years.

    PS-“zizz”-Where do I send the royalty checks if I am unable to resist filching that word?


  1. 1 chross.blogt.ch

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