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Lauren shifted uncomfortably in her seat and sighed. What had she expected, really? Three weeks ago, she had finally worked up the courage to do something she had wanted to do for a long time—she had taken out an ad for a disciplinarian. It wasn’t the sort of thing one could advertise in the local newspaper, however, so she had used certain . . . alternative . . . publications.
And this was the result. Even after weeding out all the obvious rejects, all five interviews had been . . . unsettling, to say the least. Admittedly, she had intentionally worded the advertisement vaguely: Needed: Live-in Disciplinarian to Administer Punishment as Deemed Necessary. Room and Board Provided but was there really any need to assume that this employment would involve some sort of sexual relationship or degradation? Judging by her current interviewee, apparently, yes.
John had cut right to the chase, showing Lauren first the punishment implements he would use on her—fair enough, that was what she had advertised for—then the leash and collar he would expect her to wear. Then, he had suggested that she take her clothes off, since she “should get used to not wearing them, anyway.” The interview had gone downhill from there—she never really got a chance to ask any questions because he was spending all of his time trying to get her to disrobe.
It was enough to make her want to scream. She just wanted a man who would put her across his knee and spank her when necessary, not one who wanted to treat her like some sort of pet. Finally, she had had enough. She stood up and took a step towards the door. “Well, I still have one more interview, but I’m sure I’ll be in touch—“
John cleared his throat, but made no move to get up. Oh, dear God, did he really expect . . . well, if it would get him to leave sooner . . . Lauren cast her eyes downward and folded her hands in front of her. “Thank you for your time, Sir. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve made a decision.”
John got up now and walked towards the door. “That was better, although you’re still going to need a lot of work. And this,” he reached out and smacked her butt once as he walked by Lauren, “is for forgetting your place, even if only for a moment.” Lauren was so shocked that she could only gape after him as he let himself out.
Lauren sighed and walked over to her kitchen counter where the fax from the next interviewee was sitting. She read it carefully, but it was short: Interested in position. May have to discuss compensation. Is Saturday at noon good for the interview?—Donald Arden.
Lauren looked at her watch and sighed again. Saturday at noon—that meant she had almost fifteen hours before she met her last prospect.
*****
Lauren looked at herself in the mirror. It was Saturday, 11:45 am, and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Her long dark hair hung freely down her back and a skimpy pink tank top emphasized her small but perky breasts. A short denim skirt would draw attention to her long smooth legs—and her tight butt, of which she was particularly proud. She had applied just a slight touch of makeup around her lips and eyes.
For a second, Lauren hesitated and thought about the message she was sending with her sexy look. Then, she shook it off and shrugged. She wasn’t looking for a sexual relationship, but she was fully aware of the power of sexual attraction during contract negotiations.
The doorbell rang and Lauren looked at her watch: 11:57. He was early.
*****
Lauren couldn’t believe this. The interview had been going on for an hour, and she had spent almost the entire time talking about herself: her childhood, her ambitions in life—and, of course, her motivation behind seeking out a disciplinarian. Don just seemed to have a way of drawing everything out of her, and he seemed honestly interested in hearing what she had to say. She had felt comfortable the instant she had seen him; only a few inches taller than her 5’6”, he was stocky and well-built, with powerful-looking arms.
Lauren, talking about a recent time when she arrived so late for work that she missed an important meeting with a client, stopped mid-sentence. “You know, I’ve been talking an awful lot for the last hour, and I haven’t heard much from you. So how ‘bout you do some talking? I guess the most important thing is, what would your expectations of me be, and what would you be punishing me for?”
Don hesitated for a moment. “Well, actually, I’m glad that you talked so much. It gave me a good idea of what you’re looking for. As I understand it, your biggest concerns right now are a seeming inexplicable inability to be punctual and persistently backing out of plans with friends. So, for a failure in either of those two departments, I would spank you.” Lauren squirmed a little in her chair. It now seemed inevitable that she would be getting spanked some time soon. “For other misbehaviors, I’ll usually give you one warning so that you know what’s expected of you, but I reserve the right to spank you for the first incident if I think it’s something that you should have known better than to do. Also, I expect you to immediately report any actions you take that would warrant a spanking. If you fail to do so, your punishment will be with my belt. So, to be safe, if you’re in doubt, it’s best to tell me.”
Lauren was momentarily, and uncharacteristically, speechless. “Well, that sounds perfect. When can you start?”
“Well, there’s also the matter of compensation to discuss. I see you have two bedrooms, so room and board is great, but I’m a writer by trade and money hasn’t been great lately, so I’m also going to need $400/ month.”
Lauren stood up and extended her hand, “It’s a deal.”
*****
Lauren glanced at her watch as she ran up the stairs of her apartment building. It was 12:30. Damn! And double-damn for the damned slow elevator, too. She came out on the fifth floor huffing and puffing and ran for her apartment.
Before Don had left yesterday, she had given him the second key, but he had also told her that he expected her to be here at noon to help him move in. She slowed as she approached the door, and carefully tested the doorknob. Damn, it was unlocked; that meant he was already here. Glancing again at her watch, she opened the door and crept in; there were boxes throughout the living room and Lauren could hear Don moving around in his room.
He called out from his bedroom, “Just go stand in the corner, Lauren. I will deal with you in a little bit.”
Oh, damn. Lauren was already starting to tear up. Was this really what she wanted? And what had he said? Stand in the corner? Her back stiffened at that thought—she wasn’t a child.
Don walked out and seemed a little surprised to see her standing teary-eyed and gaping in the middle of the living room. “Lauren! The corner.” He pointed to a clear corner in the dining room. “Go stick your nose against the wall, and stay there until I’m ready to deal with you.” He closed the distance between the two of them, grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her towards the corner in question, then gave her a swat on the behind to get her moving. Since she had just come from the gym, she was only wearing a thin pair of shorts, and the swat really stung home.
Standing with her nose in the corner, Lauren could only tell where Don was from the sound of moving boxes, and her heart began to pound with anticipation. Questions started to pop into her head. Would he make her pull down her pants? Afterall, this was a first offense, and the running shorts didn’t provide much protection, anyway; she really didn’t like the idea of him seeing her in only her panties. He was only going to use his hand, right? He’d mentioned using his belt if she tried to avoid a spanking, but he had never mentioned what he would use if she cooperated. How long was he going to spank her for? She’d never been spanked before and didn’t think she could take a very long one, and, again, this was a first offense. Pretty soon, Lauren found that she was sobbing quietly and couldn’t even hear Don moving around anymore.
“Lauren, take your shorts off and come over here.”
Lauren turned around and looked pleadingly at Don who was sitting in a chair that he had placed in the middle of the living room. “Could I please leave my shorts up? I mean, this is the first time I’ve done anything wrong.”
“Yes, Lauren,” her heart surged with hope before he continued, “this is a first offense—but it’s also been less than twenty-four hours since we started this program. Anyway, you will certainly never be allowed to wear more than panties while you’re being punished. Now, I won’t say it again—take off your shorts and come over here.”
Lauren kicked off her shoes and slid her shorts off before walking over to stand in front of Don with her hands folded behind her back. Don stared at her for a moment before she cast her eyes downward. “Now, Lauren, why were you late?”
Lauren barely murmured, “I was at the gym and lost track of time, sir.” He hadn’t told her that she had to call him “sir”, but it just seemed like the right thing to do.
“That’s completely unacceptable, Lauren. Pull down your panties.”
Lauren’s head shot back up, “No, please. Let me—“
Don raised a hand and cut her off. “This is not a matter for discussion, Lauren. Pull your panties down to between your knees and half way down your thighs. Make sure they turn inside-out.” She stared at him in disbelief for a moment. “NOW, Lauren!”
Tears returning to her eyes, Lauren stared at the ground as she pulled her black cotton panties down to her knees and turned them inside out. She quickly folded her hands in front of her but put them on top of her head at Don’s command.
Again, he was silent for a moment. “Good. Now this is exactly how you should be any time I have you stand in the corner. Do you understand?”
Lauren nodded.
“Oh, no. There’ll be none of that. Answer verbally. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, I understand.”
“Now, Lauren, what’s about to happen and why?”
Her head snapped up again. He was going to make her say it, too? Don simply stared back implacably until Lauren cast her eyes down again. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Here she was, practically naked from the waist down, and he felt the need to add to her humiliation. She took a deep breath. “Sir, you’re about to spank me because I was late for helping you.”
“So, you’d agree, then, that you need to be spanked both for being late and for letting down a friend, right?”
Lauren realized the implication behind that—a spanking twice as long—and began sobbing. “Yes, s-s-sir,” she managed to choke out.
Don watched her for a moment. So far, she’d only received one swat to the behind, and she was already a mess. Well, she was in for a hell of an afternoon.
“Lauren, get over my lap.”
It was almost a relief for Lauren to get started. She placed her hands on Don’s left leg and lowered herself down so that her pubic area fell on his right leg. Oddly, despite the butterflies in her stomach and the tingling sensation in her butt, this was a fairly comfortable position with her weight spread across his lap; the only discomfort came from her face being mere inches from the rug—and the knowledge of what was about to happen.
“Lauren, this is going to be very painful for you. You may yell and you may squirm, but you may not try to get up, and there are two things you may not say: you may not swear, and you may not tell me that you can’t take any more. I am the only one who will judge when you can’t take any more. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, then, let’s start with your being late. What time was it when you finally sauntered on in, Lauren?”
Lauren squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember what time her watch had said when she opened the door. “12:34, sir. It was 12:34.”
“Well, Lauren, I think we can solve half of your problem right there—your watch is three minutes slow. It was 12:37. Let’s call it one spank per minute, shall we?” Without another word, the first spank fell—hard and towards the bottom of her cheeks. Immediately tears returned to Lauren’s eyes.
“You will. . .” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“be. . .” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“on time.” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“You won’t. . .” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“use. . .” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“ridiculous. . .” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“excuses.” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“You will. . .” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“not. . .”SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“lose track. . .” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“of time.” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
After the tenth smack, Lauren was kicking her legs almost uncontrollably. After the fifteenth, she was sobbing without reserve and trying to promise that she’d never be late again. Most of it didn’t come out very well, though. Don finished with three very hard smacks to the middle of Lauren’s butt before pausing.
“Now, Lauren, that was for being late. This next set is for letting down a friend. After that, we’ll have a brief. . .mmm, discussion about your inability to follow simple commands like ‘Stand in the corner’ and ‘Take your pants off’.”
Lauren lay across Don’s lap crying and trying to listen to what he was saying. She certainly wasn’t as comfortable as she had started out. It took a moment for his words to sink in—the second spanking was going to be immediate, and there’d be more to follow after it. She craned her head around and looked at him pleadingly. “Please, sir, can’t we let that be my spanking for both? Or, at least, give me a break between the two?”
Don stared implacably back at Lauren before sighing and replying, “Well, Lauren, you’ve just made up my mind as to what your third punishment is going to be.” With that, he raised his hand and began the spanking anew. For the first few spanks, Lauren tried to figure out what that could possibly mean. After that, though, she was unable to focus on anything but the slapping that caused a constant flaring of the fire on her backside.
Lauren quickly found herself kicking her legs and sobbing again. The spanking seemed to go on forever, and Don was starting to pay attention to her upper thighs because of the kicking of her legs. After at least forty spanks, she had even given up on kicking her legs and simply lay there sobbing. It was actually over for a good two minutes before she completely realized and finished her crying.
Don patted her lightly on the bottom—but not lightly enough as it still caused her to wince—and told her to get up. She did so, and faced him, putting her hands on top of her head without even being told. “Now, Lauren, I want you to go stand in the corner again, and while you’re there, I want you to think about the fact that this punishment would be over now if you had just done as you were told.”
Lauren complied without hesitation, doing the low-panty shuffle over to the original corner. She wanted badly to rub her butt, but didn’t dare take her hands off her head. Instead, she wondered what Don had planned for her next; why didn’t she just do as she was told? Now, she was going to have to suffer through a third spanking.
But, would she even be so lucky as to get just a spanking? He had, afterall, said that he would use his belt on her under certain circumstances.
It suddenly occurred to Lauren why Don had insisted on them signing a contract yesterday. Right now, all she wanted to do was scream at him and tell him to get the hell out of her apartment—but she couldn’t, not for at least two months, and even then, the buyout they had agreed on was so expensive that she couldn’t hope to get rid of him for another two months after that. Till then, he could do this to her every day, and all she could do was trust that he would be fair.
She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of Don’s approaching footsteps. Involuntarily, she clenched her butt cheeks. Don chuckled, “Don’t worry. I would never spank you with your nose against the wall. That would be dangerous. Now, come here, Lauren.”
She turned to obey and saw what he now held: a laminated wooden paddle about as wide as his hand and two hands long. It was about half an inch thick and had ten holes drilled in it in two rows. Immediately, she started to tear up as she did the low-panty shuffle over to Don. “Please,” she sobbed, “I’ll be—“
“None of that, Lauren, unless you want this to take even longer.” She hastily shook her head. “Well, then. Since I wasn’t explicit before, I find that I can’t use my belt on you now, but make no mistake: the next time you argue about a punishment, you’ll be spending a long time on the receiving end of that belt. For now, I want you to bend over and put your hands on your knees. And Lauren,” he pointed to where her panties had slid down to just below her knees, “if you have to spread your legs a little to keep them up, you’d better do so. If your panties touch the floor, we start this all over.”
In her slightly traumatized state, the two demands at the same time were too much for her to process, so she spread her legs enough to pull the panties taut and then dropped her hands down to cover her nether regions.
“Lauren, I know I didn’t stutter.” Don moved behind her.
POP, POP, POP.
“Now, bend over and put your hands on your knees.”
Lauren bent at the waist, gasping from the three rapid-fire slaps of the paddle. With her legs slightly spread to keep her panties from falling down, she knew she was completely exposed to Don’s view. As if to confirm this thought, Don placed the smooth wood against the inside of her left thigh, slid it up until it pushed her cheeks apart, and then down the inside of her right thigh. She shuddered at the touch, knowing that the cool, laminated wood would soon be getting much warmer.
Don walked around to the front of Lauren and tucked the paddle under her chin, guiding her face up to meet his gaze. “I think it’s good that we started this way, Lauren. It lets you know my expectations—and what you can expect for failing to meet them—with no uncertainty. Do you agree?”
She gulped. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, how many strokes of the paddle do you think you deserve?”
She squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate. Pick a number too low, she was sure, and her punishment would be made worse. Pick a number too high, and she would be asking for needless pain. Those first three pops alone had hurt more than the earlier two spankings. Oh, why couldn’t she have just done what she had been told? Why did she always have to resist? Was pulling her shorts and panties down really so bad to have earned this extra punishment by resisting those acts? She had always imagined that the humiliation of being spanked would be worse than the actual physical pain. Having experienced both now, she resolved that, as bad as it was, she would be much more open to more embarrassment if it helped her avoid pain in the future.
“Lauren, if you don’t want to pick, then I will pick for you.”
Her eyes snapped open. She’d let her thoughts drift and hadn’t done any thinking on the actual question that she was supposed to be answering. “Fif—no, twenty, sir.”
Don looked up, seeming to consider the number. He shrugged. “That seems about right, Lauren.”
He walked back around to her already sore behind. Lauren heard a brief whistle—air rushing through the holes in the paddle, she realized later—before the next:
POP! She stumbled forward with a sob. “Lauren, stop moving. Bend your knees a little.” She did so, which had the effect of making her feel as though she was thrusting her butt and nether regions at Don. More humiliation.
whistle. . . POP!
“You will not. . .” POP!
“argue. . .” POP!
“during. . .” POP!
“a punishment.” POP!
“You will. . .” POP!
“do. . .” POP!
“as you’re told. . .” POP!
“or next time. . .” POP!
“this. . .” POP!
“will be. . .” POP!
“worse.” POP!
Don walked around to the front of Lauren. “Do you understand me, Lauren?”
She took a moment to choke back a sob. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
He nodded and walked back around.
whistle. . . POP!
whistle. . . POP!
whistle. . . POP!
whistle. . . POP!
whistle. . . POP!
whistle. . . POP!
whistle. . . POP!
Lauren stood in place, sobbing and legs shaking. Her panties had slid down to just above the floor. It took her a moment to realize the paddling was over.
Don stood in front of her. “Lauren, stand up. You can pull your panties up. Go get yourself cleaned up and come back to help me unpack when you’re ready.” He handed her a tissue.
She used it as she fled to her room. There, once she had stopped crying, she pulled her panties back down and looked at her butt in the mirror. It looked like a bad sunburn. She shuddered at the thought of having to sit at a desk all day tomorrow at work. Worse, she remembered, she had her class tomorrow night. She couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable the hard plastic seat in that auditorium was going to be for two-and-a-half hours.
She sighed. Well, she’d had her first spanking. She knew what she had gotten—she just wasn’t sure it was she had wanted.
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