The Corner Office Ch. 03

Chapter III - The Letter

This is a fantasy. Thank you to my editor you know who you are. There are two previous chapters, but this stands on its own.

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Dear Mr. Gray,

Sir, I am writing this letter because my husband, Tom, has ordered me to do so, as part of my punishment. Tom wants you to read a summary of what happened to me last night. I had left your office having been spanked twice by you. My bottom was very sore. I was rubbing it over my skirt as I left to go home. I knew I was going to be late and Tom would not be happy that I did not call him.

I decided to make up an excuse, not realizing you had called my husband and told him what had happened and why. I knew Tom would punish me, if he knew why I was late. When I walked into the living room, I was all smiles, trying to bluff my way out of this jam I had gotten myself into today. Tom was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper, when he looked over his glasses and asked me why I was late. Smiling, I said I had to work late, trying not to appear too nervous. Let's go out to dinner, I added casually. How come you didn't call, roping me further into my lie. I left so quickly, I didn't have time. I answered.

Tom then fixed me with a look, which tells me that I am in big trouble. So, you stayed late and couldn't call? I just spoke to your boss who told me that he had to spank you twice tonight. One spanking was for being late for work and the other for violating the dress code. Isn't that right Susan?

I had been caught. I hear you announce, young lady, I am going to give you another spanking for lying. It is at this moment that I noticed the large flat wooden hairbrush, sitting next to him on the table. Tears started to gather in my eyes and I instinctively touched my skirted bottom. I am so frightened and nervous, I felt like I am going to wet my panties. Here I am 32 years old and I felt like a little girl in front of her daddy.

You began to scold me. You tell how lying is unacceptable and that you are going to teach me a lesson I won't forget. I continue to stand there, fidgeting from foot to foot. He ordered me to place a chair in the center of the room. He took his time walking slowly to the chair, as if preparing himself for an important ritual. Tom settled down and drew his knees together, as if to make proper preparation for the moment when I was to bend over.

I started to cry saying I am sorry and I promised never to do it again. He looked at me dominating me with his stare and ordered me to stand at his right side. My knees started to shake and I slowly obeyed desperate to delay the inevitable. He reached out and caught my right wrist with a firm grasp. He began to lecture me sternly, reminding me to look him in the eye. I kept avoiding his glance because when I did see his eyes I knew how painful a lesson I would be learning.

My husband firmly took charge of me, he decided to spank me and there is no way I could avoid it. I was like a 6 year old about to be punished by her daddy. I felt his hands reach under my skirt all the way up to my waistband. His hands took my pantyhose and pulled them down to my ankles. Is this why you were spanked? I lowered my eyes, and answered yes sir. He continued to stare at me and again reached under my skirt to my panties. I felt a shock of terrible embarrassment. He wouldn't even let me undress myself. I was completely dominated.

Tom lowered my panties to my knees, my skirt was still covering my bottom, but I felt as if I were totally naked. I started to cry and I hadn't even been spanked. He gestured and said in a firm voice: young lady go over to the corner and press your nose firmly against it for the next 15 minutes. I walked slowly over to the corner my panties at my thighs and my pantyhose at my ankles. When I reached the wall, he adjusted my skirt, so it was tucked into my waistband. My bared red backside was now on display.

He said Mr. Gray did a good job spanking you. My bottom was a deep red including my thighs, even though the spanking took place over and hour ago. This third spanking of the day would sting.

The 15 minutes seemed like a lifetime, butterflies were churning in my stomach. My heart was pounding so quickly. I was truly sorry I lied. Finally, the 15 minutes were over, and he took my ear with his right hand escorted me over to the chair. I felt dizzy and completely submissive.

Tom gave me a stern warning to obey his every order or he will make me go outside and cut a switch. My legs turned to Jell-O. I never wanted to be switched again. I started to cry, I was so frightened after the last time a few weeks ago.

He reached over and stroked my bare bottom, while I continued to cry softly. I felt my cheeks start to tremble in anticipation. He knew how waiting increases my fear. You have been a bad little girl, haven't you, he scolded? I nodded my head, my tears coming back. I felt his hand slide slowly up the small of my back. He began to lower me gently over his knee, my hands were covering my face, my legs lifted off the ground and my head was almost touching the rug. My buns were now the highest point of my body.

I felt him move my right arm across my back. You are going to get the spanking of your life, I heard him say. With no further commentary, the hairbrush was raised and smacked on my bare bottom good and hard, it produced an angry red mark which was accompanied by a sharp cracking sound. I yelped in discomfort. Another swat, and another, and another I felt hard smarting whacks with lots of wrist snap, making me twist and turn, my legs kicking in the air as the brush snapped down on bare skin. Tom kept me in place, adjusting my weight across his lap as necessary to keep the target in prime position to be spanked. My desire to be brave evaporated as the pain increased.

I felt like a punished child, struggling vainly across his knees, trying to avoid the fiery sting that seemed inescapable. My right hand was pulled up good and tight across my back, keeping me from going anywhere. As my tears dripped onto the rug, Tom worked the brush expertly, from side to side and from cheek to mid-thigh. The whole area turned a bright red. I howled with sorrow, intermingled with pleas for mercy and promises of better behavior. I could feel my bottom turn into a throbbing, smarting, blistered expanse. When he finally stopped, he ordered me to head over to the corner Missy.

I bawled like a baby, but I obeyed quickly knowing better than to rub my flaming bottom. I stood with my nose touching the wall, my hands clasped behind my back. Tom came over to me and took out his hankie and wiped my running nose. I am not sure which was worse, the pain or the humiliation of him wiping my nose as if I were a child. I was completely dominated.

It's not fair, I grumbled to myself. I'll just leave the corner and get into bed. After all I *am* an adult and he is treating me like a willful child, carefully keeping my thoughts silent. But Tom missed nothing, my stance betrayed my thoughts, with each mutinous thought, my head raised a notch, my shoulders drew back, and my hands fisted into tight balls of anger.

I heard him step towards me telling me to take one step from the wall and to put my hands against the wall. He quickly painted each area of my backside from the top of my cheeks to my thighs with the dreaded hickory switch always kept handy. Now he said perhaps you would like to adjust both your position and attitude? Maybe you need another reminder of what to expect, if I don't see an improvement. I was now upset with myself for earning an unnecessary switching. I will be good. I said for the 10th time today. The elastic from my panties seemed to be cutting into my reddened and swollen flesh, and I wished I dared let them slip to my knees or ankles. The wait seemed unbearable knowing that the most severe portion of my spanking was yet to come.

After 30 minutes I heard Tom announce: Young lady, it's time for your tanning, I was very disappointed in your attitude and your actions and I am going to give you a strapping you will remember. I began to cry and pleading with him, that I would be a good girl. He ignored me and told me to pull my pink underpants up, and marched me by my ear over to the center of the room. I was told to stand at attention, while he got a kitchen stool. He then made me bend well over the seat of the stool, which was about waist high. Not wanting to displease him I draped myself over the kitchen stool in one smooth motion, my eyes brimming with tears from the embarrassment. My posterior was the highest part of my body. I could feel my tight pink nylon panties ride up into the crack of my behind, so that both cheeks were exposed and my tan lines were visible. The pantyhose dangled loosely from my ankles.

I heard him say, missy pull down your pink panties. You have been a very naughty little girl. I am going strap your bare cheeks until you can't sit for a week. I put my thumbs in the waistband of my undies and quickly pulled them down to my knees.

Susan I want your nose as close to the floor as possible. I did as I was told, so that my body was jackknifed and my bottom was as high as it could go. He could see the red spank marks on my posterior, where he had used his hairbrush on me. I was extremely embarrassed by the position he placed me. In order to bend over the chair as far as possible, my feet had to dangle about 6 inches off the floor, my hands held onto the bottom rung of the kitchen stool for balance and my bare buttocks waved high in the air. My legs were slightly separated to make sure my panties did not slip below my knees. I was sobbing quietly to myself. I felt butterflies in my stomach, knowing what was going to happen. Tom was completely in-charge.

The strap that Tom uses is about 20 inches long and about 2 inches wide. If he doesn't overlap his strokes it takes about 4 strokes to cover my entire backside from top to bottom. He always overlaps and depending on the offense will also strap my thighs. He always begins by asking me the rules, which I have to recite perfectly or I have to write them 500 times. I began reciting. I may whimper or cry, but no yelling. Tensing involuntarily after a stroke is permitted, but I am immediately to unclench my cheeks. I may wiggle, but may not get out of position. I must always thank you sir and ask for another. I am going to give you 10 with the belt, he announces, and my body sagged.

I ask please Sir strap my bare backside 10 times so I will not be such a naughty little girl. I remembered my line. I felt the belt against my right cheek. He began starting at the top of the right cheek and moved downward to mid-thigh. After each stoke my cheeks clenched and unclenched immediately. I recited my line: one, thank you sir, may I please have another. He started at the same spot only on the left cheek and repeated the pattern. I started to cry in earnest. I felt like a schoolgirl not a 32 year old wife. He swatted me three more straight down the middle and finally the last five were at the base of my bottom. I am now totally under his control. My attitude has changed and I vow to be a good girl from now on.

Once I finish bawling my eyes out, Tom has me get off the stool, and with my panties still at my knees and my dress tucked up, has me kneel down at the coffee table to write this letter to you, Mr. Gray.

In conclusion, I will be a good girl from now on and will follow the dress code and will never be late. Sir, thank your for my punishment.

Respectfully, Obediently, and Submissively

Susan