Spanked at the Office - 3

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I’m not sure how long the ordeal lasted, but Vera had fully and completely paid homage to Lucille at her disciplinarian-best before she finally stopped. That remark stung, probably because it was so true. In my depressed state, I had done no housework since a few days before Lucille’s demise, and the house had reached a condition that would certainly have earned me a very severe paddling over Lucille’s knee if I ever let it get even a tenth as sloppy while she was still alive. I brewed a pot of coffee and took a cup to Vera, prepared as she’d requested (no need to be boorish, even if she had been a little rude in the manner of her request). You can’t,” I cried. “I’d never live it down. My boss would never understand, and my friends would think I was a wimp if they knew Lucille had been spanking me over her knee like a child all these years.” Spankings were common after that first one, ranging from what Lucille referred to as, “a nice little spanking,” applied when she wanted to get my attention, to an all-out and prolonged punishment paddling to correct some willful misbehavior. Always fair, Lucille was also always strict and demanding. Always, that is, until two weeks ago when she suddenly left me, losing a brief but spirited bought with cancer.

I began a half-hearted attempt at straightening things up, but I couldn’t get into it, and I ended up sitting mindlessly on the couch in front of the TV for most of the rest of the afternoon. There wasn’t anything interesting on, but it didn’t really matter. Howdy Jon, I like your stories, fantasy and real life. If I put my John Henry on a document, agreeing to be spanked, how some ever the spanker deemed to spank. that would make said document legal and binding, correct? Ask and ye shall receive 10-4… It was a week after the funeral when I finally mustered the courage to enter Lucille’s study, to search for the discipline agreement I wrote all those years ago. Lucille had a growing business in commercial accounting that she ran out of our home. She left her business to her younger sister, Vera, who was doing similar work, and I did not want Vera to happen inadvertently upon our discipline agreement when she searched through Lucille’s business accounts and records. That was a part of our relationship I would not want to share with anyone, and most certainly not with Vera. For what seemed like the longest time, I stood there dumbfounded, staring at this diminutive but imperious female before me.

We’ll see,” Vera said. “Perhaps if you are very, very obedient from now on, I’ll save you that disgrace. Still,” she added, “you can’t be let off scot-free. Fetch me Lucille’s paddle,” she demanded, sternly. “It’s time I got to work.” Yes, ma’am,” I said through my sniffles. “I’m sorry, and I won’t let it happen again.” I felt the paddle resting against my bottom, and I prayed Vera would not raise it again. Surprisingly, my former depression had disappeared, completely replaced by the long-familiar feelings of respect and fear of further punishment.

I could not help but feel sorry for the unknown person who provided my sister-in-law with the experience to master the application of paddle and strap, but I had very little doubt whose bottom would keep her in practice well into the future. To my surprise, I found this thought strangely comforting.

Next weekend, I’ll be moving out of my apartment and into the master bedroom here,” Vera stated as I copied what she’d written. “Make certain it is ready for me. You may take one of the boys’ rooms. I’ll need to be near my sister’s records, and all her other responsibilities, if I’m to do an adequate job with them.”