Maddy Merry sat back and examined the latest figures. The hotel had done well this quarter, in fact since the business with the crooked bar manager had been resolved the year before, things had gone very well.

The only fly in the ointment was Abaconti himself. Even after she had proved herself the old man had kept more than a weather eye on his first and favourite hotel and nothing she ever did quite entirely pleased him. She looked up at him as he stood framed by the window. She knew he was over sixty now, but although it showed in his face, his posture was firm and strong like his unrelenting eyes that seemed to watch her every move. So far the meeting had not gone well. Her buttocks clenched involuntarily and he had not responded favourably to her suggestion that he now relax his vigilance of her a little.

“There are bigger hotels in the chain, some of them in the most desirable locations on Earth,” Abaconti had told her the last time she had hinted that he should perhaps now back off, “You may have your pick.”

This time he had responded no more favourably.

“I just meant that… well I know we agreed that you would give me the same support and guidance as your daughter, I thought perhaps…” Maddy blushed.

Abaconti eyed her carefully weighing up every detail of what he saw. The woman had come a long way since her over confident debut in his service. Her dark red-brown hair was well-groomed and hung over one shoulder of her smart grey business suit in a striking braid. She had even taken to wearing trousers, albeit in a feminine style. But he still had plans for her, big plans and unless she wanted to wriggle free of his close supervision altogether then she would do it his way.

“You wish to end our arrangement?” he let the words hang.

“No I…”

“Good,” he said curtly. “Last quarter I set you three targets. You only had to meet one of them to escape my ire and achieve two to get another bonus. You remember I hope.”

“I got a cover story in the…”

“I got a cover story, you merely picked up the glory, which would have been enough I agree, but then we had that little matter with the prostitute in the bar,” Abaconti sighed.

“It didn’t make the newspapers I made sure…” Maddy explained.

“You tried your best to squash the story but again I have to report that it was my influence that swung it, so all in all I think target one, get us a higher profile came out as no-score draw, which in my book hardly counts,” Abaconti said dismissively. “So are the bookings up?”

“They are holding firm, but we raised the bar so high last quarter that I…”

“Are the costs down?” Abaconti said sharply.

“They are in general terms but the damn chandelier in the lobby needed unexpected repairs…” Maddy sounded strained, she knew that a cost was a cost, “I know, I know, expenditure was up by 2k,” a damn spit in the sea given the running costs for the hotel.

It was true, she had done rather well on the costs side of things and the target for bookings was all but impossible. But those were the breaks. If hadn’t been for the avoidable problem with the drunken sex worker in the bar he would have been pleased with her.

“Given our arrangement I think you need an incentive,” Abaconti said firmly.

Maddy blushed, she hated this part; the embarrassment was worse than the pain. But she nodded.

Abaconti brightened expectantly and there was an awkward silence. Last time he had caned her, but he had arrived with the wherewithal on account of an unresolved matter. More usually he applied the paddle to her bare bottom and that was in her charge. Her blush deepened.

“You want me to…” she swallowed.

“If you would,” Abaconti said with a tight smile.

Maddy got to her feet with slow deliberation and almost sauntered over to a locked cabinet on the far side of the office. The American sorority paddle was in plain view when she opened the mahogany door, the swirl of the knot in the wood like an accusatory eye. Above the blemish Greek letters were embossed on the hardwood surface, next to which were the words ‘To Mr Abaconti, with gratitude from the girls at…” she couldn’t read the Greek it had faded, but Maddy guessed it was the same as the lettering. Maddy licked her lips and reached for the tail-stinger, then paused.

“You know Mr Abaconti, a 34-year-old hotel manager getting a spanking is…” Maddy said, suddenly wheeling on her boss.

“Yes?” Abaconti asked, an edge creeping into his voice.

Maddy pouted and then turned back to retrieve the implement.

“I was only saying,” she muttered and then sheepishly stepped towards him and offered him the paddle.

“The usual position if you please,” Abaconti told her as he took the blade of wood.

Maddy sucked in her cheeks and made a quick about turn to approach her desk. The edge of the table-top made a line long the top of her thighs as she pressed against it and she sighed heavily. Then she unclipped her waist catch and unzipped the fly on her suit trousers letting them fall in a puddle at her ankles.

“That’s no way to treat clothes,” Abaconti tut-tutted her.

An impatient breath escaped Maddy’s lips and she stepped out of her suit bottoms and stooped to pick them up. Once she had hastily folded them and placed them on the desktop she grudgingly slewed around to face the desk again.

“Are you giving me attitude today?” he scolded her.

“No Sir,” she said quickly and slid her knickers down her thighs and stepped out of them too.

Abaconti studied her pale bare bottom for a moment and was about to press her further to prepare when she leaned forward and placed her elbows on the desk. This caused her moderate sized bottom to jut out at him, especially when she dipped her knees to support herself against the side of the desk.

“Thank you Miss Merry,” Abaconti said and made his approach.

The cold wood patted her behind and she did a little shimmy for him. He doubted that she realised this and patted her bottom again. This time she pressed her backside back some more and held it still.

He could see a slight tan-line and where the skin was palest she had small clusters of goosepimples, although there was no chill in the room.

The paddle landed with a mighty thwack and she grunted. Maddy hated the first one most. There was a disconnect between the swat and the expected pain which lulled her; not that it wasn’t hard. It was just that just as she thought she had coped, the delayed bite seared her and she struggled to hold position.

Abaconti spanked her again, this time harder and watched as the gooseflesh sharpen as a deep red flooded the impact area. Maddy made a strangled sound under breath and raised one leg at the knee.

Then he picked up the pace. Five swats landed in 30 seconds and she bucked and rocked over the desk, giving out gasping squeaks at the last two. She thought of two red coals turning slowly in the fire, but Abaconti settled for an image of a pair of ripe tomatoes. It was immensely satisfying, he had to admit.

“Mr Abaconti, I… I…” she made a grimace like a cold smile and a small hiss leaked from between her teeth.

Her bottom shimmied again and she did a slow little dance with her knees.

Once before she had jumped up and grabbed her bottom. Abaconti had put her in the corner and a half hour later had begun the whole thing over. It was good training and she never left position again.

The paddle having made seven visits already, landed again and she barked angrily. Tears spilled from her eyes now and she was breathing heavily.

“You take this much better than many I have had to spank,” Abaconti said.

“Thank you Sir,” she said in a strained voice.

Her bottom was puffy now and at the edge of the impact zone there were raised welts that looked more than a little sore. She was a two dozen girl if he remembered. That was where she broke. But she had done well and today it wasn’t necessary. But he did have to make a point. She would shrug off a mere dozen by the next day and he would have wasted his time.

Abaconti let her feel the blaze for a moment or two and then slowly, taking more than a minute, he added eight more biting blasts that made her yell and squirm. To his surprise she started to cry.

“Are you alright Miss Merry,” he asked paternally.

She couldn’t speak yet, so she nodded, but he noted that her knuckles were white where she gripped the desk.

“Two more and then we are done,” he said gently.

She nodded again and pushed her bottom back to brace it. There was that shimmy again, he thought.

She arched her back a brayed out, “Nyah,” as the penultimate swat landed, a sound she repeated with a concluding sob for the finale.

Then she hugged into the desk breathing rapidly through her nose until the boiling tumult in her bottom had subsided to partially bearable.

“Now Miss Merry, while I review all the books for this quarter you can go to the corner as usual and think on how you will meet the targets for our next meeting,” Abaconti said at last.

“Yes Sir,” she said in a very miserable voice.

Then with a careful gait she tottered to the corner and finally allowed herself a good cry.

Picture courtesy of Firmhandspanking.com