The Justice Adjustment

05Nov14

spankingThat first day Carolyn had been dismissed after an hour. She had even been permitted to go to the bathroom to get dressed, although sitting had been an issue for a day or two. But apart from that the aftermath had been no worse than a session with Mrs Keaton’s hairbrush; twice as shaming to be sure, but it had at least had the added frisson of a man. She blushed as she remembered some of her wilder thoughts.

Now three days later she had another session with him and she couldn’t help remembering what Wentworth had said about her sorority days. Still there was nothing for it now and with a mix of anxiety and excitement she knocked on the office door.

“Good morning Miss Brady,” Patty said as she entered, “You can leave on your stockings, blouse and so forth but everything else below the waist must be left on the chair before you go in.”

“In?” Carolyn asked nervously. She was blushing hard.

“The office in there, just take off your things and then go and stand in the far corner through there,” Patty said brusquely, she had her nose in some paperwork and only cursorily glanced at Carolyn over her glasses.

“Um…” Carolyn wished the floor would open now, this was too officious.

“I understand that Mr Wentworth has a sorority paddle waiting for you today, you should fell right at home and I’ll be in later to spice things up a bit,” Patty said ominously, “So chop-chop.”

*

The hour Carolyn spent in the corner ground one her nerves like nothing ever had. Even enforced mooning of frat boys had not been this bad.

The corner and her very bare bottom was right opposite Wentworth’s eye line, she could have died. How could it be so much more embarrassing the second time? Even worse, the paddle bench in the middle of the room had a mean looking paddle on it and this time it wouldn’t been Candy Yates patting her tail with it, she thought, remembering her old pledge mistress. She gulped.

Then as she sensed time draw near she was at twos and eights as she was torn between wanting to get it over and dreading it. But finally the decision was his and he made it.

“I expect you know how to bend over the bench,” Wentworth sighed as he stood up, “I want you bottom up and grasping the crossbeam on the underside.”

A million protests threatened to surge through her mouth but this was like college. Crying off only made it worse and she nodded. Oh God, she thought as she eased herself over, this is so… she focussed on cool leather at her belly and the slickness of the wood where it pressed her thighs. Her exposed bottom felt huge as it mooned the ceiling and she dreaded to think what it would happen next.

“Mr Wentworth…? Sir?” Carolyn asked tentatively, “I guess… I guess I have got this coming but… um… but can I… I mean how many?”

By way of an answer Bill Wentworth shucked off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. Then with a slow deliberation he took up the drilled sorority paddle and ambled over to Carolyn Brady’s upturned and very exposed bottom. Cute too, he thought with an easy grin. Some days he just loved his job.

“Mr Wentworth Sir?” Carolyn squeaked, nervously shaking her fanny as she had back in her sorority days, but oh God, this time for a man, and how.

“How many?” Wentworth shrugged, “I haven’t decided yet, frankly I don’t know what you can take or what you need. How about… 15 say to get us started and see how we get on?”

Carolyn’s eyes became saucers and her jaw hit the floor. Back in her old college days 15 was not unheard of, sure, she had even taken more… but… but it had been so long and none of her previous tormentors had looked like football playing marines.

There was a brief disconnect with the first swat. For an endless jiffy she puzzled at the odd long unrecalled familiar sound; a kind of thwack holding hands with a thud. It came from behind and above as it always had, but she had forgotten something. Then the almost unnoticed heavy tang of pressure on her behind seemed to mingle with an equally unsuspected swarm of bees and she remembered.

“Aaaah,” she yelped, her head bucking as she grappled futilely with her hands flapping on the floor and the crosspiece. She even tried to reach back but the deployment of the bench was just so and she could get beyond her hips.

As the pain went from ‘oh my God’ to ‘God go piss himself, this is the Devil’s work’ she remembered something else. The next swat came on fast and was to be the first of a very great many.

“Eooaan,” she grunted and small insistent tears pricked at the back of her eyes.

“Crying so soon?” the teasing voice of Pledge Mistress Candy came to her mind. No, she wasn’t, she wouldn’t, she wouldn’t, it’s only…

The third swat was worse than the previous two combined and they had far from done with her. The drilled paddle had unique burn-sting-ache combination that nothing quite matched. How could she have forgotten? Dumb stupid piss-headed bitch, should have had it written into the contract… no… uhg ahhhhh…. p-paddles.

A single tear broke from the dam of her eyes and rolled down her left cheek. Moisture too had already collected at her nostrils and in the dichotomy of her tortured brain she dispassionately compared the cool of her nose with the heat of her sit-me-downs.

After five powerful swats Wentworth took half a step back and surveyed Carolyn’s paddle-ravaged bottom. They were two hills of blister-bumped purple-red and already sorer than Patty’s behind after a Saturday morning spanking with his hand. He had to admire the dame’s fortitude. Like he said, those sorority girls must have played rough. It was a cert now that 15 wasn’t going to get the job done.

“How are we doing Miss Brady?” he asked casually.

Carolyn answered him with heavy laboured breaths delivered through an open mouth before managing a rather shaky, “fine thank you Sir.”

“Good girl,” Wentworth said with genuine warmth. He was beginning to really like this dame.

Then with a renewed determination he patted her bottom with the paddle and drew it back for a swat.

Carolyn sucked in a breath and did a body wince. It was justified and the impact was followed with her first genuine scream.

“You okay?” Wentworth asked, surprised at her sudden reduced fortitude.

Carolyn, who was still riding the wave of pain, nodded vigorously. Candy had asked her exact same thing once, only not in such a solicitous tone. Back then she had answered, “Not really.” It had been a big mistake. She knew better now.

Wentworth delivered another swat and waited. It was better to slow down now; a shifting pace was what broke a girl down.  He wasn’t wrong. From a long way off there was faint mewling sound and then a drawn out whine. Carolyn Brady’s shoulders began to gently shake and he realised that she was crying. The next three finished her.

He put the paddle on the desk and let her bawl it out of her system. He guessed that it had been awhile and 15 were going to be sufficient for this session.

“That’s the way,” he said softly, “Have a good cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I usually… I don’t… not since my early days as a pledge.”

“Don’t worry on it honey, it’s okay, I have seen it all before,” Wentworth soothed.

It took a while to get to the last five and if anything Carolyn took them better and didn’t start to bawl until he had finished the set. But by then her bottom was out of commission as a sitter.

“Patty has something for you,” Wentworth sounded almost full of regret. “You won’t like it but from the state of your behind it will do you good.”

A minute or two later Patty entered with something on a tray and Carolyn had recovered enough to feel embarrassed at her humiliating posture.

“I wanted to apply a mustard pack beforehand but meanie here wanted a virgin ass for his first workout with you,” Patty said cheerfully, “But this is just as fun.”

The secretary placed the tray on the floor under Carolyn’s very sorry face and grinned at her reaction.

“Chilli paste, how thoughtful,” Carolyn said sarcastically. “You must have gone the same sorority.”

“I wasn’t an Ivy Leaguer like you sister and you have no idea how rough community college could be,” Patty said ruefully.

“I can take anything you can,” Carolyn said defiantly.

Wentworth snorted. He really loved this dame, he thought as he moved to the outer office to leave them to it.

Meanwhile Patty was saying, “Honey, I am counting on it.”

It took a few minutes but by the time Wentworth had lit-up his first post-spanking cigarette and odd sound was emanating from his office.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” Carolyn Brady began ever louder, then, “Whooooo-eeee.”

Nor did the sound stop for a while and even then there was a rasping panting sound like a woman running a marathon. Wentworth frowned in puzzlement, wondering just what he had authorised when Patty emerged with the tray and a broad grin on her face.

“You can go in now,” she giggled, “Oh… and I promised you would give another 15 and we would start over if she moves out of position.”

Wentworth returned a bemused salute with two fingers and shook his head. Then returning to his office he assessed Carolyn Brady’s new ordeal.

Patty had put the dame in the corner. She had been made to lea right into it with her nose in the seam between the walls and her hands clasped in the small of her back. Her bottom was sticking out almost obscenely, the split curves smeared with so much reddish-brown paste that it was hard to see the effects of the paddle.

Carolyn was making short panting sounds as she squirmed with tight contained trembles, but even from behind he could see that her face was as purple as her bottom.

“Is this what those sorority dames did to you back in that college of yours?” he called back to Patty.

“This and worse,” she chuckled.

“I’ll have to bear that in mind,” he snorted.

The smile vanished from Patty’s face and she gulped.

“College must have been hell,” Wentworth wearily, “Thank God I was a marine.”

“College was the best time of my life,” Patty said indignantly, “So what if there was sometimes too much chilli on my pickles.”

Wentworth snorted again. He hated Patty and her highfaluting metaphors.

“Is that how you feel Miss Brady?” Wentworth asked his client.

“As a matter of fact… yes Mr Wentworth.” Carolyn’s voice sounded very strained.



4 Responses to “The Justice Adjustment”

  1. 1 George

    And someone is so silly to forget the value of DD…

  2. 2 Vlad

    It appears she is getting what she needed rather than what she wanted. DJ your creativity with spankings and description is amazing.

  3. 3 Raffe

    I guess some girls want and need more attention than others.

  4. 4 DJ

    Thanks guys – glad you liked it. 🙂


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