Claire’s pun­ish­ment: The Tam­ing of the Naughty Secretary

By Roger

Part 1: Listening

 

Claire, the senior sec­re­tary of Sven­son Indus­tries, and her intern Tony, sat side by side on the hard bench out­side Miss Svenson’s office, shift­ing from bot­tom cheek to bot­tom cheek in dis­com­fort and antic­i­pa­tion, not look­ing one anoth­er in the eye. The heavy door cut off most of the sound, but they could hear the love­ly alto of Miss Prendergast’s voice in coun­ter­point with the slight­ly high­er ele­gant tones of Miss Sven­son. As Claire con­tem­plat­ed her impend­ing fate, it seemed to her that her bot­tom became a larg­er part of her, more sen­si­tive, almost the cen­tre of her being. Her heart jumped into her mouth as the door swung open and Miss Pren­der­gast emerged look­ing seri­ous and determined.

“Miss Sven­son will see Tony first. Claire, please stay where you are until I call you.”

“Yes Miss Prendergast”

Tony only gulped, stood up, and was ush­ered with a hand under the elbow into the office. The door swung shut, and Claire heard Miss S speak­ing in clear­ly severe tones for sev­er­al min­utes, with short gaps when Tony pre­sum­ably replied qui­et­ly. Then a silence ………………fol­lowed by the unmis­tak­able sound of a strong female hand smack­ing a naked bot­tom. Claire could not help but feel even more excit­ed at the famil­iar and stim­u­lat­ing sound, and tried to con­trol her feel­ings by count­ing the spanks…. 24, anoth­er set of 24, and anoth­er and anoth­er, then a change of rhythm and more rapid syn­co­pat­ed smacks. Miss Pren­der­gast had joined in! He was get­ting a dou­ble spank­ing over both ladies’ knees! The squeals and gasps of Tony’s dis­com­fort – and no won­der after what Claire had done to him just a quar­ter of an hour ear­li­er – became more urgent after the sec­ond batch of 24, but mut­ed to stran­gled grunts after a sharp inter­ven­tion by Miss Svenson’s voice. At last the spank­ing stopped. Per­haps that would be it – after all Miss Sven­son must have seen that his bot­tom was already sore from before………

 

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Part 2: Remembering

 

Claire’s mind wan­dered, remem­ber­ing the recent scene in her office with renewed excit­ing effect. She had always had a thing about Tony since he first inter­viewed, and dai­ly expo­sure had increased her inter­est, but giv­en her incli­na­tions, that inter­est was par­tic­u­lar­ly sparked by his love­ly round bot­tom, which she had ached to spank – and caress. At last a fail­ure to com­plete an impor­tant report gave her a good rea­son to imple­ment the estab­lished Cor­po­ral Pun­ish­ment pol­i­cy of Sven­son Indus­tries, which Tony had signed up to.

“ Tony, you have been very lazy, and I will have to work most of the night on this report if I am not to get in trou­ble with Miss Sven­son. I am going to make sure that is does not hap­pen again, by giv­ing you a sound spank­ing here and now!”

“Oh please Miss Claire, I have been doing my best, it’s the first real mistake”

“No, I am sor­ry, it’s too late for apolo­gies. Take off your shoes and trousers now and come and stand next to my chair”

Slow­ly, Tony had com­plied, and came to stand red faced next to where she sat with her knees prim­ly togeth­er. She reached out and took the waist­band of his under­pants in her hand. A swift down­ward move­ment and they were around his ankles and she was pre­sent­ed with her sec­ond favourite view. Tony’s hands moved to cov­er himself.

“Hands on your head now boy!”

“Bend right over my knee, and keep still!”

Tony had bent, and at last she had that bot­tom in view and under her con­trol. Sup­press­ing the desire to stroke it she had begun to spank vig­or­ous­ly, and lost her­self in the joy of spank­ing the bare, soft but resilient flesh. She could not remem­ber how long this had gone on, but she came to her sens­es when her hand began to get real­ly sore. She had indulged her­self by run­ning both hands over his bot­tom and giv­ing each cheek a few squeezes. Con­trol­ling her­self with dif­fi­cul­ty, she reached under the chair where she had placed her favourite hair­brush. She pushed Tony off her right thigh, tugged her skirt up and clamped her right leg over his, and began to spank crisply with the hair­brush, alter­nat­ing cheeks. …..nine, ten, eleven, twelve!!! Tony stiff­ened, bucked and squealed, but she had him firm­ly under con­trol. Then she took his left bot­tom cheek in her left hand, and pulled it up, expos­ing the sweet spot in the crease – six smart smacks had him jump­ing under her deli­cious­ly, as if she were rid­ing a recal­ci­trant pony and stay­ing in con­trol. Then the same on the right side, and it was over, Tony gasp­ing and shim­my­ing, she on a fan­tas­tic high as she looked down on the red globes — and that would have to do, there was too much noise and she was push­ing the enve­lope of her author­i­ty using the hairbrush.

 

But she had – unfor­tu­nate­ly for her – not been able to leave it at that, which would have been just arguably with­in her author­i­ty. She had had to have more.

“Stand up Tony, take off your shirt and bend over my desk!” “Good, now grip the far side, part your legs and stand on tip­toe! That’s right – a bit wider, high­er, good. I can see every­thing now, you know!”

“Yes, Miss Claire”

“Now, I am going to give you 12 strokes of the cane just to make sure you have learned your lesson!”

“Please, Miss Claire, I have nev­er been caned before! I’m not sure I can take it”

“Well, I am sor­ry, it’s that or a real­ly bad report for Miss Pren­der­gast, and that would mean even more spank­ing from her and then for sure a can­ing from Miss Svenson!!”

“All right, Miss, please cane me your­self then.”

“Good boy! Make sure you stay in posi­tion – if you move I will give you extra strokes! Deep breath now!” She flexed the cane, tapped it on the glow­ing right cheek, moved a lit­tle back to make sure there was no wrap-around, then flicked the cane in with as much wrist as she could manage.

SSSSssth­wick­kkk – oh how his bot­tom vibrat­ed – SSSSssth­wock­kkk right in the mid­dle, what a wob­ble, Craaaack­kkk – in the crease, oh how he had jumped and squealed SSSSssth­wick­kkk, SSSSssth­wock­kkk, Thwaaack­kkk, SSSSssth­wick­kkk, SSSSssth­wick­kkk –five fast ones across the low­er mid­dle of his cheeks, the tip spray­ing about as he writhed and jumped up and down. It had been fan­tas­tic; she could not imag­ine why she had not done this before to some­one, she could do it all day! Chang­ing sides, she had decid­ed to prac­tice her back­hand: SSSSssth­wick­kkk – high up left, a bit weak, SSSSssth­wick­kkk – wow! Much bet­ter, a direct hit on the sweet spot, SSSSssth­wick­kkk – oh dear a bit of thigh over­lap and a loud cry from Tony, who was strug­gling to stay in place by this time. Then it had been back to his left side for the last stroke.

“What do they tra­di­tion­al­ly say about the last stroke, Tony?”

“I don’t know Miss Claire “

“Think boy, or I will start again…”

“Maybe the last stroke is the hard­est Miss?

“YES” SSSSssth­waaack­kkk – owowow!

“Now stand up and face the wall: think about your behav­iour and how to improve for 5 minutes!”

“Yes, Miss Claire” said Tony as he moved over to the wall, dis­play­ing a red and striped sore bottom.

Even then it might have been all right, she could have got away with it – but by this time she had been fly­ing and could not help her­self. Com­ing to stand very close behind Tony, she had begun to caress his red bot­tom avid­ly, get­ting more and more car­ried away. Her heart had been pound­ing and her breath­ing short. Leav­ing her right hand roam­ing those dear globes, she slid her left hand slow­ly around his flank until it must sure­ly soon touch……………..

But at that very moment, in burst Miss Pren­der­gast! Oh NO! NO!

“Claire, what ARE you doing?” cried Miss Pren­der­gast, “I can’t believe what I just saw – don’t you realise this could be seen as harass­ment? It could real­ly harm the company’s rep­u­ta­tion! And what are these? Cane marks?? “

“Yes, Miss Prendergast”

“Right, Claire, come here,” said Miss Pren­der­gast, sit­ting square­ly on the chair so recent­ly occu­pied by Claire her­self. She pulled Claire over her lap, and in a trice her skirt was up, her panties pulled up to reveal the low­er part of her full bot­tom cheeks, and under Tony’s wide-eyed gaze Miss Prendergast’s left hand rained spanks down on her bottom.

But then Miss Pren­der­gast said “ This is not doing enough — get up Claire, I am going to take you and Tony to Miss Svenson!!!”

And so here she was,

Wait­ing, lis­ten­ing and hop­ing – for a mild pun­ish­ment. Or per­haps not?

 

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Part 3 Won­der­ing and waiting

 

Claire could hard­ly keep still where she sat, wait­ing, wait­ing, always the worst and best.

Silence. Phew, just a hand spank­ing. She could cope with that, per­haps it was even desir­able, although not quite the same as being spanked by a man.

But then the silence was bro­ken by what was clear­ly a com­mand from Miss S. Ten sec­onds lat­er, Claire heard a firm Thwack! Fol­lowed by a sharp cry. Oh no, the strap or Miss Svenson’s favourite tawse!! Thwack, Ow, Thwack aargh, thwack nnngh, Thwack, Thwack, Thwack, thwack owooowow – a sen­si­tive spot struck?- thwack oooh, Thwack grrrrh, Thwwaack nnnngh, Thwack aaaaaa­howowow. Twelve hard strokes on the bare!

 

Anoth­er brief silence, then Miss Sven­son, quite a long speech, then Miss Pren­der­gast, and all was quiet.

What would hap­pen now?

Her heart was in her mouth, for she knew she was in for at least the same treat­ment. Would Miss Sven­son make him bend over or lie on the bench for one of her famous can­ings? Or was it all over? She could not decide what she wanted.

Her whole being was illu­mi­nat­ed by the expe­ri­ence so far, she was float­ing in inter­nal space, could she take a thrash­ing as well?

 

The answer came as the door swung open and Tony emerged, red faced and tear­ful, fol­lowed close­ly by Miss Pren­der­gast. OMG, not the cane then!!! Sure­ly she could take the tawse with­out whinging?

 

“Claire,” said Miss Pren­der­gast stern­ly, “Miss Sven­son will see you now.”

 

 

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Part 4 Spanked at last

Lat­er she was unable to remem­ber enter­ing Miss Svenson’s office: some­how she had float­ed in, bliss­ful­ly unaware of her sur­round­ings in her excit­ed and appre­hen­sive state.
Miss Svenson’s voice cut through her rever­ie. Her fine blue eyes looked direct­ly in Claire’s.
“Claire, I am most dis­ap­point­ed to hear what Miss Pren­der­gast has told me, which Tony has con­firmed while I was pun­ish­ing him. You are an excel­lent senior sec­re­tary, but your judge­ment has desert­ed you bad­ly this time. First, you have exceed­ed your author­i­ty by apply­ing the cane to an intern’s bot­tom. Worse still, you have been detect­ed act­ing in a way that could be inter­pret­ed as sex­u­al harass­ment if Tony were so inclined. You are for­tu­nate that he seems not to want to take this action. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“ I don’t know, Miss Sven­son. He deserved to be pun­ished ……and then I got car­ried away.”
“Yes indeed, and you have to hope that I don’t get “car­ried away”, or you will not be sit­ting com­fort­ably for a very long time!”
With that Miss Sven­son moved to her desk chair, which was already in the mid­dle of the room, and sat down firm­ly, look­ing stern­ly at Claire. “Come here, Claire – no, stand on my left, just by my knees. Now, get over my knees and keep your bot­tom up high!”
Claire obeyed, slid­ing over Miss Svenson’s silk clad thighs, right over, land­ing with her head down, two hands on the floor and her bot­tom at the high­est point. Cool air flowed over her thighs as her skirt was raised – she felt a fris­son of excite­ment, which peaked again as Miss Sven­son pulled down her panties expos­ing her bare bot­tom com­plete­ly for the first time today. What a feel­ing! There was ful­fil­ment in this expo­sure; a shud­der of com­plete sub­mis­sion went through her.
Then it began, Miss Svenson’s hand crash­ing down, first on one cheek then the oth­er, then a set of smacks on one side, then the oth­er, on and on. Oh, how it stung, but she did not want it to stop! After what seemed like many min­utes she felt anoth­er pair of knees – Miss Pren­der­gast! – and sud­den­ly she was being spanked by both ladies, and no longer with their hands but with very stingy slip­pers. This was no longer so nice, oh how it stung, her bot­tom moved this way and that to escape the awful stings, but Miss Sven­son placed a firm hand in the mid­dle of her back and smacked on and on. Claire began to real­ly suf­fer, she was approach­ing her lim­it sure­ly, her face felt red and sweat broke our on her fore­head. She began to wail as the hard­est slip­per­ing of her life built and built and reached a crescen­do of rapid whacks. At last it stopped, leav­ing Claire gasp­ing and pant­i­ng, her bot­tom mov­ing to and fro as if remem­ber­ing the sting.
“I think we did a good job there, Miss Pren­der­gast,” said Miss Svenson.
“Yes, Miss Sven­son, I real­ly enjoyed using that slip­per! But I don’t think Claire did!” said Miss Prendergast.
“ I hope not, Claire is here to learn prop­er behav­iour, not to enjoy her­self, so we must be quite severe today. Miss Pren­der­gast, could you please get me that nice spank­ing strap – yes, the thick leather one?” said Miss Svenson.
Claire felt Miss Prendergast’s knees with­draw, while Miss Svenson’s hand remained firm­ly in the small of her back, and her glow­ing bot­tom faced the ceil­ing, her panties now on one ankle as she had kicked so much. Ow! She was sore, and there was no sign of the final tawsing yet.
“Thank you Miss Pren­der­gast. 48 strokes!!” she heard Miss Sven­son say, then her back arched and her legs flailed as the hard spank­ing strap smacked into her soft bot­tom cheeks, one, two – four — six — ten — twelve times very fast and hard. Miss Sven­son was not hold­ing back.
“This is too much! Miss Pren­der­gast, please hold Claire’s ankles for me. I shall have to start again. 48 new strokes.” Said Miss Svenson.
“Of course, Miss Sven­son.” Miss Pren­der­gast had to get down on her knees to get a good grip on Claire’s ele­gant ankles. “Nice stock­ings, Claire!” she said. She had a won­der­ful view of the full length of Claire’s stock­ing clad long slim legs, with the broad­er, fem­i­nine but slim, expanse of bright red bot­tom cheeks above, divid­ed by a deli­cious­ly dark deep mys­te­ri­ous crevice. Miss Sven­son began the over-the –knee strap­ping again: “48 strokes!!” If any­thing these strokes were even hard­er, and Miss Pren­der­gast had to take a firm grip to keep Claire’s legs under con­trol, enjoy­ing the won­der­ful view of the flex­ing, rip­pling, bound­ing, bounc­ing bot­tom being beat­en as it’s own­er deserved.

From Miss Svenson’s point of view, the love­ly shaped red bot­tom bucked and writhed as she applied the strap, left right, left­left­left, rightrightright, left right, 24, 30, 36, 40, 45. Tak­ing a deep breath she raised her arm real­ly high over her head, and brought the strap own on the same spot on Claire’s left bot­tom cheek once, twice, thrice. “Forty eight hard strokes, Claire! Well tak­en” she declared.

Claire was not in a fit state to appre­ci­ate this, she had had to grit her teeth from at least stroke num­ber 20, and the sore spot where the last three strokes had land­ed was the only thing in her mind now. 

Claire felt Miss Svenson’s hand glide over the sur­face of her bot­tom. She knew that Miss Sven­son was using her great expe­ri­ence to judge how much more she could take. No longer quite so keen to be spanked, she half hoped it was over, but knew real­ly that it could not be.

“Stand up, Claire!” Miss Sven­son ordered. Stum­bling, on slight­ly wob­bly legs, Claire stood upright.
“Go and stand in the cor­ner and think about how to improve your behav­iour. In a posi­tion of respon­si­bil­i­ty, you have to know how to con­trol your impuls­es. I do not want such a thing to ever hap­pen again, and I intend to pun­ish you accord­ing­ly,” said Miss Svenson.
Claire moved to the cor­ner, and knew to put her hands on her head.
“I think we should have her skirt up so that we can see her bot­tom,” said Miss Prendergast.
“Absolute­ly, naughty girls do not deserved the dig­ni­ty of a cov­ered bot­tom in the mid­dle of a thrash­ing” cried Miss Sven­son. Miss Pren­der­gast moved swift­ly over to Claire and pulled up her skirt. “I think it may have to come off, Miss Sven­son, there’s noth­ing to tuck it in to” she opined. “Very well, Miss Pren­der­gast, please remove the skirt – and she may as well step out of those panties as well.”
Claire felt cool air again as her skirt was unzipped and slid down silk­i­ly. As Miss Pren­der­gast stood up next to her hold­ing the fold­ed skirt, she whis­pered, “I’m a bit hot, could you take off my blouse too?” Miss Pren­der­gast arched her eye­brows at this, but a touch of a smile flick­ered over her lips: “ I think the tail of this blouse may also get in the way, Miss Sven­son, so I shall remove it”. Claire felt cool fin­gers reach around and unbut­ton her blouse, slip­ping it over her shoul­ders. Claire stood in her cor­ner, hands on head, naked apart from her brassiere. It was not embar­rass­ing, it was a nat­ur­al part of her sub­mit­ting to what she knew to be a deserved pun­ish­ment by some­one who cared for her and her career prospects.
The two ladies con­versed in low tones over by Miss Svenson’s desk, while Claire stood with her well-spanked bot­tom in full view, feel­ing the throb and swell down there, and try­ing to think about bet­ter behav­iour, and how not to get car­ried away with Tony in the office.
“What do you think, Miss Sven­son, has she had enough pun­ish­ment?” said Miss Prendergast.
“No, no, not at all, that was just a warm up. I still have to pun­ish her for the can­ing and the harass­ment offences” was Miss Svenson’s reply. “Claire, I am now going to give you the tawse for exceed­ing your author­i­ty and can­ing an intern. Stand in front of the chair, bend right over and put your hands on the seat. And do not move while I am pun­ish­ing you.”
When it came, Claire was not sur­prised, she had expect­ed to get tawsed, but a fris­son of anx­i­ety pulsed through her nev­er­the­less – Miss Sven­son was being so severe today. She moved to the chair, bent over with her legs togeth­er and took a firm grip and wait­ed – for what seemed a very long time.
“Excel­lent, Claire,” said Miss Sven­son, “I like to see such obe­di­ence, “Miss Pren­der­gast, tawses like this one is were real­ly invent­ed to be used on the hands in Scot­tish schools, but I find it works very well on the bot­tom too. Twen­ty-four strokes Claire: I want you to count each stroke, and thank me for pun­ish­ing you, and I want to hear from you what you will do about avoid­ing abuse of author­i­ty in future.”
Claire with­stood the temp­ta­tion to say that Tony had only got twelve…….. and then Miss Sven­son was next to her on her right, and then…. And then her bot­tom explod­ed with sharp anguish as the first well-swung stroke land­ed and the twin tails bit her left cheek. ‘Owowow – owow, One! Miss Sven­son, thank you Miss Sven­son, owow. Oh! Ow! Oooh! I will nev­er use the cane again with­out permission…..Two Miss Sven­son, thank you Miss Sven­son, owowow AAAghOWOW I promise nev­er to abuse my authority!.…..Three! Miss Sven­son, thank you Miss Sven­son, oh please Miss I promise nev­er to do it again………”

Miss Pren­der­gast watched in admi­ra­tion as Miss Sven­son swung the tawse left-hand­ed, with some snap but sure­ly not real­ly full force. Nev­er­the­less the soft bot­tom flat­tened under each tawse stroke, and the soft flesh rever­ber­at­ed as the room rever­ber­at­ed with Claire’s cries and protes­ta­tions of impend­ing improve­ment. The beau­ti­ful red bot­tom was twist­ing side­ways a bit as a nat­ur­al avoid­ance but its own­er was hold­ing it in place, using her mind to remain obe­di­ent and take her due. What a won­der­ful exam­ple of the ben­e­fits of cor­po­ral pun­ish­ment deliv­ered firm­ly but fair­ly, she thought. Claire was sure­ly not enjoy­ing her­self quite so much any more, and learn­ing a salu­tary lesson!

Owowow – owow, Ten! Miss Sven­son, thank you Miss Sven­son, oooo aaaah!. OW! Ow! Oooh! OW Eleven Miss Sven­son, thank you Miss Sven­son, OWOW Twelve! Miss Sven­son, thank you Miss Sven­son, I promise nev­er to over­step the mark ever ever again, owow……….

Claire’s mind was in a whirl, but focused entire­ly on sur­viv­ing the pain and prov­ing to Miss Sven­son that she real­ly would improve. She did not want anoth­er 24 of these! The blows did not come fast, but too fast to allow her to prop­er­ly com­pose her­self, so it got hard­er and hard­er not to move and hard­er to remem­ber to say the right thing. Grit­ting her teeth she tried to sup­press the urge to twist away or to jump up and down on her toes. Oh how it hurt! – her bot­tom felt on fire, but that’s eigh­teen now, sure­ly she can take six more — OWOWOW! Against her will and bet­ter judge­ment she jumped up and her hands flew to her left cheek where the nine­teenth stroke had struck hard­er than all before. Hop­ping up and down she caught a glimpse of Miss Svenson’s face, a mix­ture of dis­ap­proval but also of amused supe­ri­or­i­ty. Miss Sven­son well knew when a pun­ish­ment was being effective.

“ Claire, you have five strokes more to go, but I shall now give you six extra for dis­obey­ing me and get­ting up dur­ing pun­ish­ment!” the firm voice of Miss Sven­son told her. “Miss Pren­der­gast, to avoid fur­ther prob­lems, please hold her hands and keep her bent over.”

Claire bent again, and found her­self fac­ing direct­ly into Miss Prendergast’s décol­letage as she stood in front of her, and took her wrists firm­ly in hers, and could smell the delight­ful per­fume that she wore. With her height­ened sens­es she found this a star­tling expe­ri­ence. But this pleas­ant inter­lude was sharply inter­rupt­ed as Miss Sven­son began to wield the tawse again. Claire entered a new lev­el of pain as the blows came faster, but some­thing won­der­ful hap­pened, she seemed to be able to rise above the pain and feel the joy of sub­mis­sion and obe­di­ence as she bab­bled out her good inten­tions and apolo­gies. The tawse rose and fell in one blur – it must have been eleven strokes, or did it go on for longer – Claire had lost count, and Miss Sven­son had obvi­ous­ly decid­ed on a hard fast set of strokes and did not hold her to account.

 

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Part 5. Caned after all

“Well done, Claire, I hope that has taught you a les­son,” said Miss Sven­son, “Go and stand in the cor­ner again with your hands on your head. Do not touch your bottom!”
Claire stood up and proud­ly walked to the cor­ner, her red bot­tom swing­ing to and fro. She had come through that with fly­ing colours she thought, and had only jumped up once. She pressed her nose to the cool plas­ter, oh how she wished that cool­ness could touch her throb­bing bot­tom! She ached to rub her well whacked pos­te­ri­or, but did not dare. Now that the inten­si­ty of the tawsing was over, part of her was glad it was over and she could leave soon and splash some water on the siz­zling sur­faces, but part of her did not want the expe­ri­ence to stop. Per­haps if she did rub her bot­tom??? But that would mean the cane, and she did not want that!
At that, Miss Svenson’s mobile rang, and after a short con­ver­sa­tion she said, “I shall have to go and attend to this mat­ter. It will only take five min­utes. Claire, you stay where you are until I get back, Miss Pren­der­gast will make sure you behave yourself.”
The five min­utes seemed like an hour to Claire. All she want­ed was to hear Miss Svenson’s final lec­ture and get back to see how Tony was.
At last the door opened and Miss Sven­son returned.
“What do you have to say to me Claire?” said Miss Svenson.
Claire had had time to com­pose a speech. “That I am real­ly sor­ry for my behav­iour and will do my best to be a per­fect sec­re­tary for you from now on. I promise to keep to the rules of the com­pa­ny cor­po­ral pun­ish­ment scheme, which only allows me to spank, and not on the bare. I will refer all more seri­ous cas­es to Miss Pren­der­gast or your­self. I will also nev­er mis­be­have with an intern or employ­ee again.”
“Indeed you will not, and to make quite sure I am now going to cane you for your near-harass­ment behav­iour!” said Miss Svenson.
Claire’s heart beat faster and she shift­ed from foot to foot. “Oh please, Miss Sven­son, I have been pun­ished a lot, I thought that was for every­thing. Please, Please not the cane!” she cried.
“I am sor­ry, Claire, you must be pun­ished prop­er­ly. Lie down on the pun­ish­ment bench and keep still”
Deject­ed­ly, Claire did as she was told, and soon her lithe form was draped along the pun­ish­ment bench, with the glow­ing red moons of her bot­tom cheeks square­ly in the mid­dle, await­ing the cane.
She did not have long to wait.
“Twen­ty four strokes, Claire. Please count them and thank me each time. Then I will expect a more con­vinc­ing state­ment from you!”
Before Claire could col­lect her­self or reply, the first stroke land­ed right in the mid­dle of the pre­sent­ed bottom.
Claire jumped and squealed at the new sharp pain, like a burst of light or sit­ting on a red-hot bar. Belat­ed­ly she shout­ed “One, one Miss Sven­son, thank you Miss Sven­son”, the sec­ond stoke arriv­ing as she said Sven­son so that the name was spo­ken at a much high­er pitch, fol­lowed by the next ”Thank you Miss Sven­son, TWO, owowowow please Miss Sven­son, I am so sorr———OWowow THREE, Thank you Miss Sven­son, aaaaah­howow FOUR! Thank you Miss Sven­son! Owooooowow FIVE, Thank you Miss Sven­son, aaaaaowowowow SIX Thank you Miss Svenson……………………………………….”

Claire had got her­self under con­trol after the shock of the first two strokes. She even dared a peek at Miss Sven­son, she looked so mag­nif­i­cent, such a bril­liant caner. Despite the painful strokes assail­ing her bot­tom, Claire found time to admire how Miss Sven­son con­cen­trat­ed on the tar­get, bent her knees and brought the cane down in a smooth accel­er­at­ing arc. Claire her­self was not in this league, but maybe with more prac­tice on ….. OH! that real­ly hurt, TWELVE, she had got to twelve, sure­ly she could make it to twen­ty-four, that was half way. She had bet­ter con­cen­trate on rid­ing the pain of each stroke and think­ing of what to say. OW EIGHTEEN, Thank you Miss Sven­son!! NINETEEN, Thank you Miss Sven­son. TWENTY Thank you Miss Sven­son. Claire was not a com­plete stranger to the cane; she had had a six stroke can­ing from Miss Sven­son dur­ing her pro­ba­tion, and twelve strokes once when she made her only major admin­is­tra­tive mis­take and lost the com­pa­ny a con­tract. But this was fur­ther than she had ever gone down the path blazed by the cane in her body and mind, Oh how it hurt, but some­how she did not want it to stop – the sharp spikes of pain were hard to bear, but she was being trans­port­ed to a new lev­el of expe­ri­ence. TWENTY-THREE Thank you Miss Sven­son! TWENTY-FOUR THANK YOU MISS SVENSON!!!
It was over. She had tak­en a deserved pun­ish­ment, and she felt fan­tas­tic, almost euphoric.
“Claire, I am wait­ing!” she heard Miss Sven­son say. “NO, don’t get up – stay right where you are.”
“ I am very sor­ry for mis­be­hav­ing with my intern, Miss Sven­son, it won’t hap­pen again. But it was only nat­ur­al, he is such an attrac­tive young……..”
“Claire, I can’t believe what I am hear­ing! I want no excus­es from you! Miss Pren­der­gast, do you think she has learnt this les­son properly?”
“Well, she has tak­en a lot of pun­ish­ment, Miss Sven­son, but that did not seem very contrite.”
“Indeed, Miss Pren­der­gast, I agree.”
With a nod to Miss Pren­der­gast, Miss Sven­son strode for­ward and picked up the cane again.
“I shall give you twen­ty-four more strokes of the cane, Claire, and when I am fin­ished I expect a prop­er apol­o­gy with no excuses!”
“Oh, please Miss Sven­son, I am real­ly sor­ry I tried to excuse my behav­iour, it was not permissible”
Miss Sven­son flexed her cane and swished it through the air.
“Claire, do not speak again until you can apol­o­gise prop­er­ly. Miss Pren­der­gast, you may need to hold her down for these strokes”
Claire felt Miss Prendergast’s hands press light­ly but firm­ly between her shoul­der blades.
And then she was caned.
And caned.
And caned……………

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