I ran a course in Vienna the other week, which had been organised by a rather delightful lass from the client’s training department.
She seemed desperately keen to impress; worried lest any of the details went wrong. Submissive, even, in her responses to my emails. I wondered, en route to Heathrow, what she would be like in person.
Pictured myself inspecting the room in which the course was to be held. The textbooks not set out as they should have been; the lack of flipchart pens; the absence of coffee. The details. The excuses.
“I should have expected greater attention to detail, young lady. Greater care.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“And when a young lady lets me down – lets herself down – then there are consequences.”
A wide-eyed look of puzzlement, of panic, as I pulled round a chair and sat down. “Bend over my knees.”
Pulling up her skirt. Pulling down her knickers. Spanking her, hard.
Listening to her apologies. Spanking her harder.
“Are you going to try harder for the rest of my stay?”
“Yes, sir. I promise.”
Further sharp spanks. Fingers. Wetness. Submission.
“Then you can come and see me at 12.30, whilst the others go to lunch, and you can show me what a good girl you can be…”
Mm, lovely.
Confiscating her knickers for the rest of the day as a reminder to be good? 😉
xx
Oh, nice
I think he’d let her keep them until her 12.30 appointment, and would comment then on how wet they were. But yes, after that, she’d be bare in that regard in the office for him…
Perhaps she’d have to give a presentation to the managers that afternoon. She’d wonder quite how dishevelled she looked, and would know that he knew she had no knickers on, and would be thinking about what he had done to her…