Markís Mis­take
Mark was a mod­el stu­dent. He excelled at school and achieved 3 top grade ‘A’ Lev­els and was able to study law at Uni­ver­si­ty to realise his ambi­tion of becom­ing a solicitor.
Mark and his friends had just fin­ished their exams and every­one thought that they had done rea­son­ably well. Three or four of his clos­est friends decid­ed to cel­e­brate with a few bot­tles of wine that evening and Mark invit­ed them around to his stu­dent bed-sit.
Time was press­ing when he arrived home and he decid­ed to pop down the road to Miss Sven­son’s con­ve­nience store to buy some wine, cheese, pineap­ple rings and cock­tail sticks. He would just have time to return and pre­pare the food before the first of his friends arrived.
He arrived at the store five min­utes before clos­ing time and select­ed a bot­tle of red and a bot­tle of white wine. He grabbed the oth­er items and opened his wal­let to take his cred­it card out when he was hor­ri­fied to dis­cov­er that he had picked up a store loy­al­ty card instead.
There was no time for him to go home, col­lect his cred­it card and return to the store as it was about to close and he need­ed all the items for her par­ty. He had a rash thought — com­plete­ly out of char­ac­ter. He had enough cash to pay for the wine and pineap­ple. He knew Miss Sven­son only had one CCTV cam­era and that cov­ered the wine and spir­its sec­tion of her shop. He could eas­i­ly slip the cheese and cock­tail sticks into his bag in the oth­er part of the shop where no one could see him and come back in the morn­ing and pay for them.
What he did­n’t know how­ev­er was that Miss Sven­son had, only that day, had a new CCTV sys­tem with three cam­eras installed. She was in her office at the back of the store watch­ing Mark, as he was the only cus­tomer, wait­ing for him to pay for his goods so that she could lock up and go home. She clear­ly saw him slip the cheese and cock­tail sticks into his plas­tic bag and move towards the till where Amy a 17 year old assis­tant was on duty.
She decid­ed to move to the shop door where she could watch Mark at the till and then went out­side to col­lect the adver­tis­ing board. Mark paid for the wine and pineap­ple rings and placed them in her bag with the receipt.
Miss Sven­son stopped Mark as the shop door closed behind him “Just a minute young man” she said “May I have a look in your bag?” Mark sud­den­ly felt sick — she knew Miss Sven­son must some­how have seen him slip the items into his bag. He then had a greater sink­ing feel­ing — what if she called the police! — if he was pros­e­cut­ed for theft he could nev­er become a solic­i­tor — all those years of study would be wast­ed- his fam­i­ly name would be shamed!
He could­n’t speak coher­ent­ly and just mum­bled some­thing to Miss Sven­son. “I think that you ought to come back into the shop with me young man” she said. She told Amy that she could go and that she would lock the doors and cash up.
Miss Sven­son locked the door and escort­ed Mark into her office. She played back the CCTV tape and said “Now then — how do you explain this? — I think that we should call the police”
Mark was now near to tears — his legs had turned to jel­ly. His cho­sen career was in ruins all for the price of some cheese.
“No don’t call the police — pleeease! There must be some oth­er way — pleeease.….I can pay for the cheese first thing tomorrow.…I can work in your shop for nothing.….my par­ents own a chain of con­ve­nience stores so i’m used to the work.…please, please any­thing but the police”
Miss Sven­son looked at the young man stand­ing in front of her. He ner­vous­ly pulled at the ends of his shoul­der length black hair and begged her again not to call the police. She looked again at the trem­bling stu­dent dressed in a white tee-shirt and tight black trousers. He remind­ed her of her own broth­er who was only a few years old­er and thought of the shame it would have brought on her fam­i­ly if he had been prosecuted.
“What is your name?” he enquired. “Mark” he stam­mered. “Well Mark you must be pun­ished for what you have done but if you let me pun­ish you as I would my own son, then the police need not be involved. The pun­ish­ment must remain an agree­ment between our­selves — nobody else is to know”.
“I will agree to any­thing — but don’t call the police” said Mark slight­ly more relieved now that his career might not be over after all. “What do you want me to do?”
“Well” Miss Sven­son replied “When I said that I would pun­ish you as I would my own son — that will mean cor­po­ral pun­ish­ment. You will bend over for a hand spank­ing, fol­lowed by six swats with a slip­per and final­ly six stokes of the cane”
Mark looked shocked. He had nev­er been spanked as a child. Now he faced a spank­ing, the slip­per and the cane all in one go! Even the worst behaved boys at his school had nev­er expe­ri­enced that!
“When you are ready Mark we will get it over with. Come here” com­mand­ed Miss Sven­son in a stern voice. Mark moved to the cen­tre of the room. “Bend over!” He bent over and grabbed his ankles. His long dark hair fell for­ward over his eyes. Miss Sven­son paused for a moment to admire the pert bot­tom in front of her encased in the black trousers which had now stretched even tighter around his buttocks.
Miss Sven­son took aim and her hand land­ed with a SMACK on his right but­tock. He swayed for­ward with the force of the blow and a few sec­onds lat­er he stum­bled for­ward as a SMACK land­ed on the left buttock.
“Stay still!” com­mand­ed Miss Sven­son. Mark had nev­er expe­ri­enced any­thing like this and let out an OWOOO! †He took a new stance with his legs fur­ther apart which gave him greater bal­ance and remained in posi­tion whilst his but­tocks each received two fur­ther smacks.
“Stand up” ordered Miss Sven­son. Mark stood and rubbed his sting­ing bot­tom. “Now for the slip­per — I want you to bend over and hold the arms of that chair” He saw an old easy chair at the side of the room and bent over and grabbed the arms with her hands. He ner­vous­ly turned and saw Miss Sven­son with a huge brown slip­per in her hand which must have been at least size 10.
“Lets get this part over with” she announced and took aim. WHOPP came the first blow. Mark nev­er expect­ed it to be so hard and he let out a tremen­dous AARRGH! “Only five more to go” WHOPP, WHOPP, Mark grasped the arms of the chair so tight in an attempt to lessen the pain that his fin­gers went through the worn out fab­ric. WHOPP, WHOPP, WHOPP. He lept up after the sixth whack and danced around the room, rub­bing his throb­bing bottom.
“Now for the final part of your pun­ish­ment Mark — and this will hurt the most” announced Miss Sven­son as she searched in a cup­board and bought out a thin rat­ten cane about three feet in length. “I want you to bend back over the chair and after the third stroke low­er your trousers and pants so that you receive the final three stokes on your bare bot­tom” she commanded.
Mark was shocked. The cane was bad enough but on the bare. The boys at his school nev­er received such humil­i­a­tion. “Oh no! nnnot on the bbbare” he stam­mered. “The choice is yours Mark — fin­ish the pun­ish­ment we agreed on or I could still pros­e­cute for shoplift­ing” said Miss Svenson.
Mark decid­ed to argue no fur­ther and slow­ly bent back over the chair grasped the arms, feel­ing the holes he made min­utes ear­li­er and stuck his throb­bing bot­tom out ready for its final chas­tise­ment. “Ready?” asked Miss Sven­son. “Yes” he whis­pered. He heard the cane swish­ing through the air as Miss Sven­son prac­tised her aim and then felt a tap on his bot­tom which sig­nalled the point of like­ly con­tact. He closed his eyes and held his breath and thought that in a few min­utes this whole night­mare would be over.
A swish soon fol­lowed by a THWAK as the cane land­ed and made a dent in his trousered behind. YEEOOWW! he yelped. He jerked up and tried to smooth the area where the sear­ing pain was com­ing from. “Stay still” came the firm voice of Miss Sven­son “or I will add penal­ty strokes” Mark did­n’t reply bit­ing his lips and bent back over the chair think­ing that the quick­er this was over the bet­ter. Swish THWAK! Swish THWAK! the cane made two fur­ther con­tacts with him before the time came for him to low­er his trousers.
He slow­ly raised him­self up and fum­bled with the clasp and zip on his trousers before low­er­ing them gen­tly over his throb­bing but­tocks leav­ing them at thigh lev­el. Miss Sven­son admired the wheals that had start­ed to form and thought to her­self that she would see if she could get the next three stokes par­al­lel to them. Mark low­ered him­self again and braced him­self for the final part of his pun­ish­ment. Swish THWAK!, Swish THWAK!, Swish THWAK! ARRRGGGH!
Mark shot up, tried to dance around the room rub­bing his sore bot­tom and almost tripped over his half low­ered trousers. He pulled them up and gen­tly raised them over his sting­ing rear before clum­si­ly secur­ing the zip and clasp.
“I hope that you will have learnt your les­son Mark and that you will nev­er try to steal from me again” thun­dered Miss Sven­son “And there is just one fur­ther thing. I shall expect you here by 9.00 a.m. with £4.92 to pay for your cheese and cock­tail sticks” “YYYes” Mark stam­mered. “I will”
Miss Sven­son gave Mark a moment to com­pose him­self and then escort­ed him through the shop, unlocked the door, and let him out. Mark looked at his watch — his ordeal had only last­ed twen­ty min­utes. He still had time to return to his bed sit and pre­pare for his guests.
The par­ty went very well and was enjoyed by all. No one noticed that Mark stood for the whole evening or occa­sion­al­ly rubbed his bottom!
The next morn­ing arrived and Mark was in Miss Sven­son’s shop by 9.00 a.m. with the prince­ly sum of £4.92. He hand­ed it over and Miss Sven­son accept­ed it with a wry smile. “How are you this morn­ing Mark?” she enquired. “Fine thank you” he replied and reflect­ed how grate­ful he was to still have a career to look for­ward to and how expen­sive that cheese could have been!

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