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Authors: Lucy Salisbury
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was forced to tell her I believed in corporal punishment as the only effective way to atone for things I knew to be wrong but couldn’t help doing, which was at least a half-truth. It also implied that I was hopelessly addicted to masturbation, which was the whole truth, and that I wanted to be cured of my dirty habit, which was an outright lie. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder if I wasn’t the only liar, and that she might have been just as keen to smack my bottom as I’d been to have it smacked.
I was smiling as I walked, now with my clothes clean and my trousers sewn up, but I had my worries. It had taken ages to get my clothes dry and the rip in my trousers mended, so long that if my colleagues had kept to schedule they’d have finished the exercise, packed up and gone home. That left me in the middle of nowhere with no money and no keys, which had been in the minibus with my other clothes. Not that I could imagine Mr Scott abandoning me and, sure enough, he was standing by his car, looking worried. I’d even found my cap and jacket by then, both marked with splashes of pink dye as evidence of what Stacey and her friends had done to me. His frown grew deeper as he saw me coming.
‘Ah, Miss Salisbury. We have a bit of a disciplinary situation, don’t we?’
My mind was still full of thoughts of spanking, and for one moment I thought he meant I was the one who was going to be disciplined, only to realise what he was talking about as he went on. ‘I have already reprimanded Miss Atkinson, who I understand was the ringleader, and obviously their behaviour was wholly inappropriate …’
I could see where he was going, preferring to avoid the scandal and trouble of the full-scale disciplinary hearing I was obviously entitled to, to say nothing of possible industrial tribunals if any of the girls were sacked. It was a bit rich, when I was sure that if he’d been the one they’d turned on all hell would have broken loose, but I knew which side my bread was buttered and was in no mood to play the bitch anyway. I interrupted him before he’d got into full stride. ‘I think it would be best to drop the whole matter, for the good of the company.’
He stopped, clearly surprised, then rallied as he opened the car door for me. ‘Well, I must say that I think that’s the right choice, and, moreover, that you are showing a mature and well-considered attitude. Thank you, Miss Salisbury.’
As we set off, I was wondering how mature he’d have thought me if he’d seen me wriggling naked across Mrs Forbes’ knee for my spanking, and whether he’d have enjoyed the view. He was always so formal, but then so was I.
***
By the time we got back, the day had begun to catch up with me. I was tired and hungry, but still determined to go on my date with Charlie. Mr Scott and I rode up together in the lift, our conversation strictly business, as it had been all the way from Hertfordshire. Only when I’d closed the door of my flat behind me did I finally relax, throwing my jacket and cap into the washing machine before pouring myself a very large glass of wine. Morrison was on the bed where I’d left him that morning, watching me with his disapproving stare.
‘Yes I know, Morrison. I’m a disgrace, but don’t worry, I’ve been spanked.’
I knew that wouldn’t satisfy him. Nothing ever did, as he was a stuffed toy, but that was half the fun of it. He’d want to punish me himself, and I had one or two interesting ideas about what ought to be done with me, although that was going to have to wait.
‘Yes, you’re right. I enjoyed it far too much and I ought to be dealt with properly, certainly for sucking Magnus off, although I don’t see why I should be given a punishment for being shot by my own side at paintball. Because it turned me on? Oh, all right, do what you want with me, you beastly bear!’
The wine was beginning to pick me up and I’d have done it then and there had I not needed to get ready for
I was smiling as I walked, now with my clothes clean and my trousers sewn up, but I had my worries. It had taken ages to get my clothes dry and the rip in my trousers mended, so long that if my colleagues had kept to schedule they’d have finished the exercise, packed up and gone home. That left me in the middle of nowhere with no money and no keys, which had been in the minibus with my other clothes. Not that I could imagine Mr Scott abandoning me and, sure enough, he was standing by his car, looking worried. I’d even found my cap and jacket by then, both marked with splashes of pink dye as evidence of what Stacey and her friends had done to me. His frown grew deeper as he saw me coming.
‘Ah, Miss Salisbury. We have a bit of a disciplinary situation, don’t we?’
My mind was still full of thoughts of spanking, and for one moment I thought he meant I was the one who was going to be disciplined, only to realise what he was talking about as he went on. ‘I have already reprimanded Miss Atkinson, who I understand was the ringleader, and obviously their behaviour was wholly inappropriate …’
I could see where he was going, preferring to avoid the scandal and trouble of the full-scale disciplinary hearing I was obviously entitled to, to say nothing of possible industrial tribunals if any of the girls were sacked. It was a bit rich, when I was sure that if he’d been the one they’d turned on all hell would have broken loose, but I knew which side my bread was buttered and was in no mood to play the bitch anyway. I interrupted him before he’d got into full stride. ‘I think it would be best to drop the whole matter, for the good of the company.’
He stopped, clearly surprised, then rallied as he opened the car door for me. ‘Well, I must say that I think that’s the right choice, and, moreover, that you are showing a mature and well-considered attitude. Thank you, Miss Salisbury.’
As we set off, I was wondering how mature he’d have thought me if he’d seen me wriggling naked across Mrs Forbes’ knee for my spanking, and whether he’d have enjoyed the view. He was always so formal, but then so was I.
***
By the time we got back, the day had begun to catch up with me. I was tired and hungry, but still determined to go on my date with Charlie. Mr Scott and I rode up together in the lift, our conversation strictly business, as it had been all the way from Hertfordshire. Only when I’d closed the door of my flat behind me did I finally relax, throwing my jacket and cap into the washing machine before pouring myself a very large glass of wine. Morrison was on the bed where I’d left him that morning, watching me with his disapproving stare.
‘Yes I know, Morrison. I’m a disgrace, but don’t worry, I’ve been spanked.’
I knew that wouldn’t satisfy him. Nothing ever did, as he was a stuffed toy, but that was half the fun of it. He’d want to punish me himself, and I had one or two interesting ideas about what ought to be done with me, although that was going to have to wait.
‘Yes, you’re right. I enjoyed it far too much and I ought to be dealt with properly, certainly for sucking Magnus off, although I don’t see why I should be given a punishment for being shot by my own side at paintball. Because it turned me on? Oh, all right, do what you want with me, you beastly bear!’
The wine was beginning to pick me up and I’d have done it then and there had I not needed to get ready for
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