The Witch
by Old Tom
“Well, Janet, that witch hunt of yours just turned up another witch.”
Janet looked around her office and sighed. He called it a “witch hunt” just to annoy her – and it worked every time. She consciously reminded herself that this was *her* domain, but the plush leather furniture and cherrywood trim, the imposing shelves of law books and thick ivory carpeting meant nothing at the moment. Her special touches – bright red shrub roses in the window box; the signed Elton Bennett prints – were designed to remind visitors that she was a woman to be reckoned with, both competent and feminine. Her perfume permeated the room, subtly combining with that special scent of fresh leather.
She was so busy reminding herself that Corporate Counsel should not have to put up with such annoyances, that she missed the import of Tom’s statement. She continued the argument just as she had so many times in the past.
“Tom, you know why this policy is necessary. Especially with what happened last month, you know we need to protect ourselves. The more things we do to prevent any possible lawsuit, the better.”
“Yes, Janet, I know that. But I still think we’ve gone way too far.” Tom shifted in the dark leather visitors’ chair, making himself even more comfortable. He seemed unaware of how out of place he looked with his jeans and sneakers. His very casualness seemed to dominate the room; it was as if he had power over his surroundings by remaining so completely untouched.
Janet, for her part, listened patiently. Tom seemed to take a special pleasure in coming to the point slowly, and she didn’t *really* mind this endless discussion with him. It had developed into something of a game.
She suspected Tom rather liked her, though he had always been careful to keep his feelings to himself. Perhaps that was why he kept returning to continue their discussion, even though he was never quite able to prove his point. Not that he ever *would* prove his point; after all, it was a matter of legal theory and that was *her* area.
As Tom continued, she wondered if he might have been reading her thoughts. He said, “We’ve been arguing with each other for months, and it hasn’t meant a thing because every one of your victims accepted their fate. But now we have a *dangerous* witch, and before the day is out, you’re going to be *very* sorry this witch got caught.”
Janet suddenly realized she had missed something – her preventive measure had really paid off! But Tom was still talking…
“Anyone could make one tiny mistake that doesn’t hurt anybody, and doesn’t cost the company a thing, and still lose their job over it. It’s this ‘zero tolerance’ business that really bothers me. It’s just too harsh, and today I’ll prove my point.”
Somehow Tom always seemed able to put Janet on the defensive. But she was determined to be reasonable. She was on familiar ground, confident she could continue to prove *her* point as she had every time past.
She explained, as she had so many times before, “I know it might look that way, but it’s really a matter of fairness, because everyone is treated equally, no matter who they are. The only way to be truly fair is to make employee discipline mandatory in every case. No exceptions.
“Suppose, for example, that we tolerated even one problem. If we don’t enforce that particular case, how can we justify enforcing *any* particular case? We dare not pick and choose, so we are forced to adopt the ‘zero tolerance’ policy.”
In spite of her size – an inch over five feet tall – Janet’s words always seemed to carry special weight. Janet herself knew this to be by design. Like any lawyer, she’d had her share of training in rhetoric, but she also had the knack of wrapping her surroundings about her like a cloak. She dressed to blend in with her office, consciously making herself a part of the whole.
The furnishings surrounding her were conservative, expensive, and subtly feminine. Her clothes were likewise conservative and expensive, but exquisitely feminine. She treated her figure as she did her other investments – that is, with an eye toward asset appreciation – and could still surprise people with her claim to be well past her thirtieth year.
Tom sat still for a moment, absently rubbing his cheek in thought. Janet shifted in her chair, immediately drawing his gaze to the fall of the pleated linen skirt across her legs.
Tom caught himself with a twitch and returned to the point he was endlessly claiming to make. “Yes, you’ve explained all this before, but I still don’t agree. You’re assuming that every single case actually merits discipline. What about an accidental or otherwise minor violation? Just one teeny little spell, and you want to burn them as a witch. If you have your way, one alleged witch is sure to be scorched this very day.”
Tom could be *so* dramatic. Janet retorted, “A witch is a witch, even if you only observe a single spell. But this is *not* a witch hunt. This is a corporate protective measure, for the greater good of the employees. Even if we have to lose some particular employee.”
Tom leaned back in his chair, slumped down with hands laced behind his head, legs straight out with ankles crossed. His voice got a bit louder as he snorted, “‘Corporate protective measure’ indeed. Look. Take the present case. The company did not lose any money, and nobody has any reason to sue us. So no harm has been done. Even so, you would argue, this person was well aware of the policy and this particular case *might* have turned into a sexual harassment complaint.”
“Yes, that is exactly my point. If we don’t enforce *this* case, we leave ourselves wide open.”
“Even if we’re dealing with an extremely valuable employee?”
“Even so. It’s for the greater good of the company, and that’s more important than any one employee.”
Janet paused – obviously for dramatic effect – and then continued. “As you well know, we have had four cases so far, without losing a single employee. Each took a cut in pay, that is true, but the company has been protected, which is good for all of us.”
Tom was becoming more sardonic with each passing moment. “So the witch gets scorched, eh? Anyway, it’s your policy. What do we do in this specific instance?”
Janet ignored the wisecracks, focusing on the specific question. “The policy, as written, mandates employee discipline of a substantial and punitive nature including, but not limited to, either demotion or outright dismissal. The intent was that the offending employee could be offered a choice.”
“I see.” Tom sat up to stare as he made his declaration. “Well, I have record of corporate counsel doing outside legal work. That in itself presents no problem, since there is no indication the time was billed to this company. The work was in support of the so-called Internet freedom of speech campaign, which again poses no conflict of interest. Electronic mail was received by yourself containing references to files of a prurient nature. Again, this by itself presents no problem. However, you also received – at your own request – an article on the legal ramifications of ‘sex in the park. ‘You set me the task of watching for such things, regardless of whether any harm was actually done, and that is how you got trapped by your own witch hunt. ”
Janet’s face had long since drained of color. “I… I… I had no idea. You’re absolutely correct, and now that you point it out, I remember that piece of mail, which I deleted immediately. So now I have the choice between demotion and dismissal, and you have won your little game.”
Tom smiled, making what he appeared to think would be the winning point. Making his point seemed to be more important – to him – than her dismissal, which was probably a good thing. “Well, Janet, it doesn’t have to be that bad. I’ve been arguing all along that your policy is too harsh, and today I am proving my point. It’s your policy, so all you need to do is change it.”
Janet, now the martyr, replied. “You know I can’t do that. That wouldn’t look right. Besides, it *is* still for the greater good of the company. Not that I’ll be around to appreciate the effort.”
“But if you found a way to stay without demotion *and* comply with the policy, wouldn’t *that* be for the greater good of the company? Would you *then* be willing to reconsider changing the policy? You could say it was in light of recent and personal experience – surely nobody would question that?”
This was happening too quickly. Things were spinning out of her control, forcing her to merely react. “Yes, of course.” She paused, apparently in thought, but really just taking a moment to calm down and regain control over the course of the conversation. “You have a suggestion to make?”
“Well… an option. I doubt it’s an option you will like, but you said the intent was that the offending employee could be offered a choice. I believe this choice meets the requirement of ’employee discipline of a substantial and punitive nature,’ while at the same time keeping you from any public embarrassment or financial hardship. And most importantly, it allows me to prove my point.”
“Are you serious?” Of course he was. He quite obviously had planned this in advance. Spar for time; keep him talking. “How could all that be possible?”
“I believe your other option is to request a sound spanking, which should certainly be of a substantial and punitive nature. Not only would it be for the greater good of the company, but it just might do you a lot of good personally.”
Janet flushed bright red. She stole a glance at Tom’s strong hands, speculating about the option. She had little choice in the matter. “And I suppose you’re offering to do the honors? Somehow I can’t see myself as a child, or you as my father. And I don’t believe in spanking anyway!”
Tom counted his points off on his fingers. “First, I wasn’t suggesting you be anyone but your charming self. Second, it doesn’t matter if you believe in it or not – it fits your requirements and is therefore a valid option. If you don’t believe in it, I should think that’s another plus from your point of view. And third, are you really considering trying to explain all this to someone else and try to get *them* to spank you?”
She could see no alternative to conceding. “You’re right. I’ll take the spanking, in private, from you.”
“Could you be more specific, please?”
So Tom was going to require her complete capitulation. Why did that thrill her at the same time it humiliated and infuriated her? “I hereby request that you spank my bottom in punishment for my policy violation, in private, with the understanding that the spanking needs to be substantial and punitive. And with the further understanding that nobody else shall hear of this during my lifetime.”
Tom smiled again, stopping just short of chuckling at her wording. After all, this was a serious request, and she couldn’t help it if she were a lawyer. Still, there was more to be clarified. “I will be fair, but do you understand that *I* will decide how hard your spanking will be, and that it will be on your bare bottom?”
“Couldn’t I keep my panties on?” Janet was thinking furiously. “Or if I go buy a thong panty, wouldn’t that be acceptable?”
“No, it has to be on the bare.”
Janet thought that over, realized she had little bargaining power. It was just a little spanking, and would be over quickly enough. She nodded her agreement.
Tom stood as he replied. “Very well; I accept your request. But I’ll need an hour to cancel some test time tonight. Shall I stop back here at five o’clock? That way you have time to think things over.”
Tom left, as Janet sat back in her chair in exasperation – and with more than a touch of despair. She relaxed in thought as her training suggested, assessing her unexpected situation.
And as she played back the just-completed interview in her mind, she got mad at herself. Yes, it was for the greater good, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. It *was* fair, but it didn’t *feel* fair. It had never occurred to her that she was violating her own policy, but here she was, caught. And why was she feeling excited by the prospect? Was it fear? No, that wasn’t it. The prospect of physical touch? No, that didn’t seem to be it either…
One thought led to another. She now realized she had been making wrong choices for some time, and something inside her recognized her need for a sound spanking. And she didn’t even believe in spanking! So that couldn’t be it. It must just be a defense mechanism, a matter of her resigning herself to the inevitable.
And that made her mad. Furious. Furious with herself for getting caught in her own trap, and furious with Tom for taking advantage of her situation. And furious that she had no choice in the matter. As he had obviously known all along. He had trapped her, and now she was being swept along a path she did *not* want to follow.
Janet pounded her desk in her frustration. And eventually was able to calm herself down.
Now her mind was made up; she *was* resigned to the inevitable.
Fifteen minutes remained!
What to do; how to wait? She never would have guessed what it was like to wait for a spanking. Probably worse than the spanking itself. Surely he wouldn’t spank her right here in the office? She’d better discuss that. What about… No, she couldn’t even *think* about a bare bottom.
Don’t dwell on the spanking. What to think about, then? Think to the future. Things would change… that was *her* reason for agreeing to the spanking. She’d have to take a different attitude toward things, of course…
In fact… in fact… She was an adult; she could change her attitude *without* the spanking, couldn’t she? Yes, that was it. She’d have to open herself to Tom enough to explain what had changed, but she was sure she could do it.
Five minutes!
Time… she’d need time to explain. Could she cancel her six o’clock appointment. Of course she could. Protecting her back side was *far* more important.
And here was Tom.
“Hi, Tom. Look, if I take just a minute to cancel my six o’clock appointment, would you be willing to talk some things through with me?”
“Why, certainly! I was expecting you might have some fast talking in mind, so I cleared my evening for you.”
So Tom had anticipated this too. Janet smiled, at her charming best, though her smile looked strained as she quickly called to cancel her evening appointment.
As she turned to Tom, Janet realized she *was* performing as expected, but she couldn’t help herself – she just *had* to explain. She again had that brief sensation of being swept along a fixed path by forces she could not control. As if she were in a swiftly-flowing stream, with the current too strong – and unpredictable – to allow her to extricate herself.
Her words tumbled over each other, as her turbulent mind sorted out her line of thought, in her desperate need to make Tom understand her point.
“Tom, I’ve been thinking over what you said, and there’s no question that I made a mistake. I’ll play fair and take what’s coming to me, even though I truly had no idea that what I was doing was a problem. But now that you point this out, I have to agree with you.
“So then I got to wondering how this could have happened in the first place. And I realized that I have gotten sloppy in quite a few things, both here and socially. I really do need to change how I look at things, and I don’t know what would have happened next if you hadn’t called me on this.
“Much as I hate to admit it, and don’t you *dare* quote me on this, the embarrassment of a spanking might be exactly the wake-up call I need to straighten myself out. I still think a spanking is pointless and childish, but I intend to make it serve a useful purpose.
“But then I realized that I certainly ought to be able to change what needs changing *without* being spanked – especially with the agreement that if I don’t, I really will get spanked. I will also admit I felt very relieved when I realized this agreement is also a valid choice.”
Janet stopped and expectantly studied Tom, waiting for his reaction. The seconds became a tense minute, and then two, as Tom thought things over.
Then Tom laughed, more a chuckle to himself. “My, we’re both running true to form. You’re a lawyer, proposing a compromise settlement, and I’m sitting here, trying to nail things down with absolute precision. And I’m still not sure I have a clear picture – but then I’m not a lawyer.
“So let’s see if I understand you. You’re proposing that you become accountable to myself for making these changes you’ve alluded to, with the threat that if you don’t follow through adequately, I will spank you at some later time. Assuming we have these changes and the penalty in writing, is that what you’re proposing?”
“Yes, exactly. Things immediately change for the better, and everybody wins.”
“But aren’t you forgetting something? What about the discipline you yourself mandated?”
“In effect, I’m on probation with a suspended sentence, and the situation is clearly far better than the alternatives. When you consider the end result, this represents a far superior solution.”
“Actually, it does not. What we have is a woman who has earned herself a spanking, and knows it. She is now, quite naturally, trying to get out of the spanking. If I let her get away with this, I would definitely *not* be serving the greater good. Do you understand?”
Janet sighed in frustration. “Yes.” How could he possibly know her so well?
“In case it’s not obvious, I should warn you that a spanking is *supposed* to be an unpleasant experience, and it would defeat the purpose if you were allowed to change your mind partway through. I will spank you fairly, but once we start, you will not be allowed to change your mind. Do you still want me to spank you?”
“Yes, but I really don’t think changing my mind will be a problem. I keep myself in pretty good shape, and now that I’ve decided to go through with it, I’m sure I’ll be able to handle the spanking without making a fool of myself. But we will take care of this in private, won’t we? Perhaps sometime this weekend?”
“Yes, it will be in private, and it will be at my house, at eight o’clock this evening. I’ll give you directions, and that gives you just over two hours to think about what behavior you need to change. You might want to bring a pillow to sit on for the drive home.”
As Tom quietly closed her office door behind himself, Janet could not help but glance at her brass clock, given in recognition of her first ten years’ service. It silently ticked off the seconds, and now minutes, forcing her on to her appointment. Even her own clock was beyond her control…
Two hours! And a pillow! How could she possibly concentrate, when about to receive the spanking of her life? It couldn’t be that bad, but he seemed pretty sure it would be. How could he know? Or was he just playing for dramatic effect? Funny she never thought to ask until now.
How to concentrate? The list. Of things she was determined to change. Surely he’d be pleased if she arrived with her list in hand. And what to wear? Should she change, or would it somehow be more appropriate if she were spanked in her work clothes?
Ninety minutes!
Janet found her way home and to Tom’s house, her mind in a daze. Now Janet was on Tom’s porch, anxiously enduring his appraisal. She had arrived in a bright gold, thin cotton sun dress that emphasized her figure, dark hair released and flowing about her shoulders, her nails quickly changed from the deep cherry red she had been wearing earlier. She limited herself to a single-strand gold necklace and pearl earrings.
She had striven for the effect of breathtaking simplicity. The look in Tom’s eyes proved her success. The open sandals, the thinness of her dress, everything was aimed at emphasizing her vulnerability and desirability, her hope that he would go easy on her. Tom seemed to realize this, for a touch of amusement swept across his face. Janet took that for a bad sign.
She didn’t know what to do with her hands. She could feel the nervous dampness in her palms but dared not wipe them against her dress. Her stomach was doing nervous flips.
Tom invited her in, sitting her on the couch while he drew up a straight-backed chair to face her. This was her first time in Tom’s home, and she quickly glanced around the room, anxious to learn more about him. Solid furniture, off-white walls, wine-red curtains, impersonal. Just like his office – nothing to tell about his personality.
She returned her attention to Tom – and answered her own question. Tom himself was the focus; with Tom in the room, no background would hold relevance.
Seeing he had her attention, Tom began the proceedings. “Janet, why are you here?”
Tom always took so long to come to the point that Janet couldn’t help being a little sarcastic with her answer. Besides, she was nervous.
“For my spanking, of course.”
“Do really think it wise to show so little respect to someone about to put you across his knee? Do we need to bring out the kitchen spatula and begin with a lesson in respect?”
Janet mentally backed off in a hurry, settling down to give serious answers to serious questions, just like in a court of law. “No, sir. That won’t be necessary.”
Like a court of law. Yes, Tom was out-playing her on her own terms. She had to respect that. He had *demanded* her respect in such a way that he had *earned* her respect. She found that strangely comforting.
“Do you recall our discussing the ‘no tolerance’ clause this afternoon?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then you later suggested probation as adequate to the situation, seeing as how you had already changed your attitude?”
“Yes, sir. But…”
“But what?”
“But I was proposing a compromise that would satisfy all parties, and would provide an outcome even better than the existing policy allowed.”
“And we could ignore the actual policy statement, because it would just be getting in the way of the desired outcome. Is that it?”
Janet smiled with her enthusiasm. He finally understood. “Yes, sir. That’s it exactly. I can show you any number of cases showing that is standard legal practice these days. The greater good for the people as a whole, takes precedence over the law as applied to some specific individual. There are whole books written on exactly that point.”
“Janet, you’re still blinding yourself to the point I’m trying to make. Regardless of how wonderful your ‘desired outcome’ is, you’re still holding yourself above your own policy and you don’t even realize it. I’m going to give you a ‘no tolerance’ spanking. I’m going to show you, as precisely as I can, what a lack of tolerance feels like. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“Yes, sir. But am I really as bad as all that?”
“Bad, yes. But not hopeless. You will be soundly punished, I promise you that, but it won’t be the end of the world.”
“Yes, sir.” Now why did such a statement, put just that way, not excite her exactly, but… *thrill* her? It was almost as if they were in resonance with each other.
But Tom continued his obviously-prepared speech. “There’s just one more thing we need to cover, and then we can get started. There’s a Wal-mart bag over there on the table, containing a plastic cooking spoon. Could you get it please, and take it out of the packaging?”
Janet complied, trepidation written all over her face.
Tom continued while Janet was getting the spoon extracted from its shrink wrapping. “As you can see, it’s just a very light, flexible nylon cooking spoon. As soon as you have it open, try slapping it against your hand. You should find it kind of stings, but it is way too light to cause any lasting damage.”
“But I thought you were just going to spank me with your hand, not beat me with a spoon.”
“Yes, I will spank you by hand first. However, I have found that most intelligent strong-willed women like yourself are able to shrug off a hand spanking without it making a lasting impression. However, if I use anything at all that raises welts, she knows instinctively that she needs to shape up in a hurry, because she already won’t be sitting comfortably for a day or two.”
Tom motioned Janet to silence as she began to make horrified protest.
“Now then, there’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that the nylon spoon you’re holding is just too light to leave your bottom sore for very long. In fact you might even be comfortable by time you get to work tomorrow. The good news is that the spoon stings a *lot* while I’m using it, and you won’t be able to ignore it.
“Do you find the spoon acceptable, even though it won’t make a lasting impression, or would you prefer I locate a good, solid, leather belt to use instead?”
Janet could not keep the horrified look from her face. She had already returned to stand in front of the couch, and now her knees gave way to plop herself back down onto the couch as Tom explained the “good news” and “bad news.”
“If you really feel you must use something besides your hand, I’m sure this spoon will be more than adequate, sir. Maybe using the spoon will help to get this over with quickly.”
“Very well. Janet, are you ready to be punished now?”
“I’m ready, sir.”
“Then go ahead and slip off your sandals and panties and lay your bare bottom across my lap. That way I know you intend to cooperate with your own punishment.”
Janet hadn’t realized the need for cooperation. This was quickly degenerating into a far more humbling experience than she had anticipated. She had plenty of experience dealing with unexpected situations, but never the need to humble herself. Her mind again flashed to her picture of floundering in unfamiliar waters – but she wasn’t drowning; she was being carried along in a strong current.
Carried along to…
Her mind leapt ahead to speculate on the spanking itself, and her face quickly flushed a light pink. Her hands slipped up under her dress to remove her panties, and she walked over to Tom’s right side, handing him the nylon spoon.
Without looking at Tom’s face, she briefly considered how to best accomplish getting herself across his legs.
Tom offered his help. “Look. Lift up the bottom of your dress in back with your right hand, and give me your left hand.”
Without thinking, Janet did as Tom suggested, pulling the hem of her dress up to her waist. She was just beginning to offer her left hand to Tom, when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, his leg raised against her knees causing her to overbalance.
Janet threw her hands forward to catch herself on the carpet, letting out a surprised squeal. It had been a long time since anybody had pulled or pushed her down.
And now Tom’s hands were at her hips, getting her settled in to his satisfaction. Janet could now think only of her bottom, how exposed and vulnerable it felt. She clamped her legs together.
Tom seemed to be taking a lot longer than necessary, getting her positioned. Janet tried to be patient, since this was just one more thing she had to put up with. Then it dawned on her that all this fiddling *did* have a purpose, namely to allow Tom to spank her more efficiently and – no doubt – effectively. And to draw her attention back to her own vulnerability.
“I have been telling you for months what I thought of your witch hunt, and now I have the beautiful witch herself right here across my lap ready to be scorched. I’m going to prove my point this very day, even if it takes until midnight.” Tom gently stroked her bottom in anticipation. “Yes, I am *definitely* going to enjoy this.”
Janet swore softly to herself in deepening realization of her plight. This was the most awful moment of her life, laying there so vulnerably. Tom’s legs were supporting her full weight, underscoring his control of her. She could feel the warmth of Tom’s closeness, and he was just sitting there, smugly enjoying the anticipation. She wished she could sink through the floor and die.
Tom patted her bottom a few times, as if in testing or appreciation.
Then he stopped, holding still, and Janet tensed, waiting.
Nothing happened!
Tom broke the tense silence. “Janet?”
“Who…” She cut off the sarcasm just in time. “Yes, sir?”
“Could we stop a moment and look at the big picture?”
She thought he *had* been looking at the big picture. Staring, in fact. She spoke patiently, “What do you mean?”
“You’re a grown woman, laying here with your bare bottom pointing to the sky, waiting to receive the spanking of your life. You are going to be very thoroughly punished, and for what? Because of an email exchange that is really nobody else’s business. Don’t you think blistering your bottom is a bit much for something that trivial?”
“Well, it’s a matter of principle.”
Tom patted her bottom again. “But look at you. Forget about your theories and motivations and policies for a moment. Isn’t it a fact that you’re across my lap because of a piece of email that’s not my business or anyone else’s? Don’t you see that the punishment is completely out of proportion to the so-called crime?”
“Well, of course I see that. But you need to take the larger view, which is that I made a mistake and we dare not tolerate *any* mistakes that could lead to more sexual harassment problems. Just look at the track record – my policy has already worked admirably in four different cases.”
“So you want to be punished for something that’s really nobody else’s business, and really doesn’t merit punishment in the first place. You’re the lawyer, I realize that; but it seems to me that the whole concept of punishment loses its value when it’s pointless, or completely out of proportion to the crime.”
Janet opened her mouth to respond, but Tom stilled her with a squeeze of her right cheek to indicate he wasn’t yet done with his discourse.
“When you’re being spanked, you’re dealing with a cause-and-effect relationship. Abstractions like what-if’s and the greater good of the company lose their relevance. As you’re getting your bottom smacked, hard, it just won’t seem right because it’s so out of proportion to this silly little email thing.
“*Now* do you see what I mean?”
Janet relaxed. “Yes, I do. Does that mean I can get up now?”
Tom laughed. “No, of course not. Not yet, anyway. There’s something else we need to consider.”
“And what is that?”
“You *asked* me to spank you, good and hard.”
“Well, yes, of course, but we just agreed the spanking is for no good reason.”
“True, but think about it. If you’re silly enough to *ask* for such a thing, isn’t that a pretty good indication that you could use a good spanking anyway?”
“So you’re offering to give me the spanking of my life for the crime of being silly? Aren’t we back to something all out of proportion?”
“Absolutely! I am going to give you a sound spanking simply because you asked for one. I am going to cause you great distress, and I am going to *enjoy* every last bit of your distress because I think it will be teaching you a valuable lesson. Nor am I forgetting that four people got demoted because of your action, and you even arranged that they were glad of the demotion. You should consider yourself lucky that I was not one of the four! Even so, after our months of arguing, this spanking is going to give me immense satisfaction.”
Tom was once again patting her bottom in anticipation. “By the way, have you ever noticed that when you do something with enthusiasm, you have fun and do a better job? This *is* going to be fun.”
Janet wished the floor would swallow her up.
Smack! Janet caught her breath at the first spank, but then decided it wasn’t too bad. The noise was kind of scary, though. She lay still for her spanking, without further comment. She realized the anticipation *was* the worst part. Of course there was still that spoon to consider. Ten.. eleven.. twelve.. she silently counted the spanks to herself.
But Tom was still toying with her, as she found out on the twenty-first swat. The rhythm didn’t change, but that one HURT! And Tom just kept on spanking her. She soon put her hand back to protect her bottom – she had no choice – only to find it held at the small of her back.
Janet could wiggle, and she did. She could protest, and she did. This was a lot more than she was expecting. And longer. It seemed like hundreds of spanks had rained down on her bottom. She realized that she would submit to the spanking whether she wanted to or not. She was getting what she deserved, and she now found herself accepting that.
Tom finally relented, stopping to gently rub the pinkness while Janet lay there gasping in relief. “Was that enough to get your attention, Janet?”
“Yes, sir. I’m very, very sorry. I’ve learned my lesson, that’s for sure.”
“Good. That was your warmup. Now we can talk.”
“What!??”
“Are you ready to listen, or not?”
“Yes, sir, I’m listening.”
Tom continued as if there were no interruption. “Young lady, you need to get some sense spanked into you. You sit there at work explaining the importance of ‘no tolerance’ while at the same time you’re working for tolerance and freedom of speech on the Internet. Don’t you see that you can’t have it both ways?”
“Yes, sir, I can see that now.”
“But more importantly, you’re specifying a punishment out of all proportion to the crime – especially when it’s debatable whether there was a crime at all. If this doesn’t stop, somebody is going to get hurt by it.”
“Yes, sir, now I can see that too.”
“Well, I just won’t tolerate it, and I intend to spank all of the nonsense out of you right now. Do you understand me, Janet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I enjoyed putting you across my lap because you asked for it, but the fun part is over now. I won’t be enjoying the next part either, but you need to learn what your lack of tolerance really means. Are you ready, Janet?”
“Yes, sir.”
And spank her, he did. Big, loud, painful smacks, over and over and over again. Tom paused once to lock Janet’s legs under his own. He spanked her even harder, causing her to panic while unable to escape. She howled and bucked, thinking of nothing but her need to escape his punishing hand. Tom just kept spanking her. There was no question of dignity now; Tom controlled the situation and he was spanking the daylights out of her.
A very long time later, Janet quieted down, breaking into real tears, and continuing to sob quietly as Tom continued to wallop her without respite.
Finally, Tom stopped, to smugly rub Janet’s bright-red bottom. He unlocked her legs, shifting her to again lay fully across his lap. “Do you think you have learned anything from this, Janet?”
It was the better part of a minute before Janet could speak calmly.
“Yes, sir. I’ll be a completely different person; you’ll see.”
“Do think this has been an adequate application of employee discipline?”
“Yes, sir. Much more than adequate.”
“You also said you wanted the chance to make some changes. Do you remember talking about that?”
“Yes, sir. In fact, I made a list this afternoon.”
“Good. Then let’s discuss those changes right now, and then I’ll show you exactly what will happen if you don’t follow through.”
Janet did not like this approach, but her burning bottom was still poised across Tom’s lap. She told him the list of changes.
Tom was astounded. “You have a lot to answer for, don’t you? This isn’t going to be easy to change, is it?”
“Yes, sir. And no, sir. But I have all the motivation I need, thanks to you, sir.”
“And do you see the pattern? Do you see how everything in your list is related?”
“Well, it’s all proof that I’ve been making bad choices lately.
Though I think I’ve been pretty well cured. Is that what you mean?”
“No, I mean there is a common thread here. Every single time, you were trying to control a situation that you had no business controlling. And it looks like at least half of the problem was because you were so intolerant of other peoples’ imperfections.
“Is this beginning to sound familiar?”
Now it was Janet’s turn to be astounded. “Yes! You’re absolutely right! I truly had no idea. It’s all the same problem. That’s exactly what you just spanked me for; I can see that now.” She began repeating herself as she assimilated the revelation, “Wow. It really is the same problem.”
“You realize you actually do deserve another spanking, don’t you, Janet?”
“Yes, sir. But I just had one.”
“And you’re going to have another. You have a *lot* to answer for. And you need to know *exactly* what will happen if you slip up on your promises to change, so I’m going to sting your bottom with that plastic spoon. Are you ready?”
“But I can’t take any more, sir!”
“Of course you can. And you will keep your hands and feet out of the way of your spanking, or I will give you an extra ten minutes with the spoon. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. But please, I can’t take much more!”
The spoon handle was flexible and springy, and Janet’s hot bottom was already unbearably sensitive. A few minutes of rapid slap-slap-slapping had Janet kicking and shrieking, begging for the chance to promise anything, anything at all. She was well spanked and she knew it, tears again streaming down her face. She would never look at a nylon cooking spoon the same way again.
Tom paused, and Janet gasped her relief. She stopped her noise and her kicking, hiccuping as she did her best to be cooperative. “As you can see, Janet, the stinging really doesn’t last very long. Do you think you can remember your promises, or would a few welts from my belt help you out?”
“Please, sir, I’ll remember!”
“And what happens if you forget, or don’t follow through with your promises?”
“I’ll be right back over your lap, with that spoon.”
“And do you now believe such a procedure can be effective with a woman such as yourself?”
“Oh, yes, sir, very effective.”
“Then we only have one last thing to discuss.”
“Please, sir, whatever it is, I’ve already paid! Please!”
Tom gave her a solid swat with his hand, causing Janet to gasp and whisper a forlorn “Oh, please…”
“Do you remember the part of our conversation where I thought you had gone way too far with your witch hunt?”
“Yes, sir, I remember.”
“And you explained that it was a matter of fairness, not of harshness. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, sir, I remember. I’m very sorry I was so badly mistaken, sir.”
“I am thinking of making sure you are sorry by spanking you with this spoon, with slow hard swats. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Yes, sir.” Janet turned her head to look past her badly scorched bottom. She had started crying again, the tears sticking strands of her hair to her flushed cheeks. “But if you please, sir, I’ve really had enough.”
“I understand. But we’re almost through here, and this is an important point. The point is, I am considering two choices. Choice one is to spank you with one dozen swats of the spoon, and choice two is to spank you with one hundred swats of the spoon. I want you to tell me what you think of those two choices, in terms of fairness and harshness.”
“Sir, I’m not sure what you want me to say. I’ve already paid, so I don’t think either one is fair. Choice two is obviously very harsh.”
“Is there any doubt whatever in your mind that choice two would get the point across?”
“None whatever – assuming I lived through it, sir.”
“So choice two is the logical choice, because it means we can be absolutely certain, even though somebody might get hurt in the process. Do you now see the fallacy in your reasoning?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you feel it would be fair to give you those hundred swats anyway, just to make sure?”
“No, sir, because even one more would be more than adequate.”
“But what if *I* think it’s fair, because I think it’s more important to be absolutely sure?”
“I can only hope you’ll have mercy on my poor bottom, sir, so that I can make it into work long enough tomorrow to change the policy to something that actually *is* fair. You were right all along, sir, and I am very sorry it was so difficult to convince me.”
“Janet, I’m going to give you those hundred swats. I think you are beginning to understand the consequence of callous harshness, but in a few minutes you will *know* the consequence.
“As Mark Twain once said, ‘A person who has picked up a cat by the tail understands cats a lot better than someone who has merely read about the event.’ And, I might add, the person who picked up the cat will *remember* the event a lot longer. There’s just no substitute for being the one there with tail in hand.”
Janet wailed in desperation, “Please, sir, I couldn’t take even half that. Couldn’t you make it fifty? Please?”
“Yes, we could make it fifty if you count them for me. Mistakes cost you a free swat, and then we start back with the last correct count. Now aren’t you glad I’m willing to be flexible?”
Without waiting for an answer, Tom gave her bottom a solid swat.
“One, sir.”
Tom continued with stroke after measured stroke. The renewed agony was more than Janet could take, and she soon got five freebies because she could not calm down enough to gasp out the count. Then she found out that wicked spoon could reach places not yet touched with punishment. Every single blow to the soft inner curve of her bottom forced her frantic kicks every which way, which made her even more vulnerable to the spoon.
Janet was in a complete panic, thrashing and bouncing, screaming and pleading. She was so panic-stricken that she forgot to count eight swats in a row, and then she had no idea where she left off.
Tom paused. “Janet, this won’t be over until you get to fifty. But I’ll tell you what. Call out the number *before* I spank you, and take as much time as you need. Do you understand?”
Janet was still kicking her feet, frantically reacting to the fierce sting building in her bottom. “Yes, sir. But please, please, pleaaaaaase, I’ve had enough.”
“I believe we’re at twenty.”
“Oh, pleaaase… twenty one.”
Something changed inside Janet. It was like a dam broke, the rushing water flooding away her remaining defenses. Her pain didn’t matter any more, only the need to please Tom. He was giving her the spanking she needed, no matter how she begged to be let off. She had never known a man could control her so completely and, she hoped, lovingly. She felt her body continue to flail about, but her mind was calm, and she counted her way to fifty.
The stinging blows stopped, and her hands were released. The terrible burn continued to assault her awareness. She was hardly aware that her spanking was over. Janet gasped and cried, leaving a puddle of tears, struggling to catch her breath. This was just too much for her befuddled brain to take in at once. She finally lay still.
“All, right. You can get up now.”
With Tom’s help, still crying, she stood up, wincing as her dress fell back into place to cover her glowing bottom. She leaned over to give Tom a hug, wetting his shoulder with her tears. She cried out loud for several minutes, reaching back with one hand to rub her bottom. Tom held her closely, letting her cry it out.
Janet finally extricated herself to smile shyly at Tom. “Yes, I guess you caught yourself a witch. It’s a good thing I don’t melt!”
Janet was proposing a settlement, and Tom met her half way, finally acknowledging how he felt about her. “You were right all along – your witch hunt is the best thing that ever happened to me. But are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”
Janet kissed him with the assurance, “I am a *very* good witch.”
She deliberately held his gaze with her own as she reached up to slowly unbutton her dress. Her swollen eyes regained their twinkle as she declared in mock seriousness, “…and when I’m BAD, I’m even BETTER.”
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