« Spanking Stories

« Alice, Hannah and Ella


20. Strength

Spanking Story


Watched by her co-worker, a marketing executive is caned at work

«Beginning Part 21»

The slap blossomed across Wendy's cheek and resonated around Hannah's office. Hannah watched in horror as the stain flourished into a full-blown red hand print. Her co-workers looked at her, stunned.

Tears in her eyes, Wendy left the open-plan office, heading for the restroom.

There were no words. There had been. Far too many. On both sides. Hannah's co-workers looked away as she met their gazes. She rushed to her private office, stunned at her stupidity. Wendy had riled her. That last comment about her hair was nasty. Wendy had deserved a slap, but she should never have given it.

Behind her desk, she sat and stared at her computer, seeing nothing. Wendy could report her. She might lose her job. She doubtless deserved to, but she didn't want to.

For a moment, she contemplated going to comfort her in the restroom, but changed her mind. She'd done enough damage already. A further escalation of their argument would put it beyond all repair. Her stomach twisted in knots. She'd committed a serious offense. Any of her co-workers could report it, even if Wendy didn't.

It was on her to put it right. At home, she apologized and took her punishment. But Tom wasn't here to help her. He couldn't, anyway. She grabbed her phone before the idea escaped and searched. The number of results surprised her. Working fast, she did diligent research on each option, whittling them down to one. The lady sounded the most thoughtful.

She couldn't leave it any longer. Forty minutes had passed since the slap. Even if Wendy had already reported her, the right thing was to apologize without further delay. It couldn't be a pathetic little apology message on Slack. She'd slapped Wendy in front of people. They must see her apologize too.

Her phone in hand, she left her office and walked across the open-plan space towards Wendy's cubicle. Various heads went up, watching her journey. She was ashamed, but kept her head high.

The strawberry blonde had her head down, hunched over a document. Hannah stood back, keeping an extra respectful distance, and said, "Wendy?"

The blond girl turned, her face still red from the slap, her blue eyes shooting daggers. She kept her resolve. She'd deserved that look.

Raising her voice, so the surrounding co-workers would hear, was the least she owed the other girl. "Wendy, I'm sorry. I have no excuse for slapping you. My behavior was beyond unacceptable. You have every right to report me and see me punished. I hope you'll forgive me. I'm very sorry."

She stood firm and still.

Wendy looked at her, and said, "You should be."

"I was mean and rude. I value you. My actions were a disgrace."

Maybe she could still nip this in the bud, if she hurried.

"Can we get coffee together and talk about it? I promise to keep my hands in my lap and take whatever hell you want to give me. I deserve it," Hannah said.

Wendy surprised her. She rose, grabbed her black suit jacket off the back of her chair, and said, "Okay."

Hannah got the coffees. They took a corner table in the modern coffee shop below their office. She sat on the bench seat, her black skirt suit and white blouse a common uniform in the popular location.

Wendy sat on the chair, her back to the room. Hannah had left it so she didn't feel cornered. She studied the strawberry blonde's black pant suit. It wasn't expensive, but the cut was flattering.

"I could make a complaint," Wendy said, opening her vigorous attack. "There were plenty of witnesses."

"You could. Please hear me out and if you're not satisfied. I'll wait to hear from Human Resources," Hannah said, hoping like hell it wouldn't come to that.

"First. It needs saying. I'm sorry. I was wrong. No matter what we said to each other, and we said a lot, I should never have slapped you. I'm sorry," Hannah repeated.

Wendy nodded.

"You're not blameless," Hannah said. "But your offense pales into insignificance next to mine. You provoked me with some cruel comments, and I don't feel that jibe about my hair had the slightest justification. Although I might lose my job, it might not end well for you either."

She lifted her fingers as Wendy tried to interrupt.

"I'm not threatening you. I'm trying to point out that neither of us is as blameless as we may wish we were. There is no mitigation for my behavior. I was wrong on every level."

"If I do nothing, you get away with it!" Wendy burst out.

"I won't get away with it," Hannah said, her voice heavy with meaning.

"Well, what then?" Wendy threw back.

"Have you read any of the books by Alice North?" Hannah asked.

Wendy blushed, the remnants of the slap lost in her sweet blush.

"I'll take that as a yes," Hannah smiled, maintaining momentum. "How about 'At the Top'?" The book had sold hundreds of millions of copies. If Wendy had read any of the books, the chances she'd read 'At the Top' were high.

"The one with Miss Roberts?"

"Yes. Miss Roberts," Hannah confirmed, looking Wendy in the eye.

In 'At the Top,' the major character, Clare, visited a professional disciplinarian to get caned, when she let herself down. Miss Roberts was an enthralling character. She talked with girls about whatever was on their mind, told them off and punished them for it, alleviating their guilt. The brilliant combination of kind and firm had lit up discussion forums about the character.

The real Miss Roberts wasn't identifiable from the true story, but Alice North had confirmed in interviews she existed.

"I'm not satisfied with my behavior this afternoon. If we found someone like that, we could go together," Hannah explained. "I'd accept a hard and embarrassing punishment for slapping you and you'd see me put in my place for the way I treated you."

"How would we do that?" Wendy asked.

She hadn't said no. Hannah leaped on it. She unlocked her phone and passed it to Wendy. "I did some research before I came to apologize to you. I'm serious and prepared to accept a tough and painful beating for what I did."

She sat back and watched Wendy as she read. Miss Abbott offered punishment to girls only. The words on her website were firm, kind and supportive. Hannah didn't know if Wendy would go through with the idea, but prayed she might.

Wendy looked up, still clutching the phone. "I'm not blameless. You said so yourself."

"No you're not," Hannah agreed.

"I provoked you. Back at my desk, I felt awful about myself," Wendy said. "You're right about the hair comment. It was way too far. I was more mad with me than you. It's scary to suggest this, but if we go together, I'll take what I deserve."

Hannah smiled. Wendy's commitment was a surprise, but a kind one. It was genuine and would cost her some dignity and pain.

"I've got a confession to make," she said. "I've already booked us an appointment for 6pm tonight."

"You were confident I'd agree?"

"No, far from it. But I'd have gone myself because I deserve it," Hannah said.

"Do you think the gym shoe would be fair for me?" asked Wendy. The website had said, 'The gym shoe gives you a good warm bottom. It's suitable for a girl who knows she's wrong, but doesn't deserve to be red for more than a few hours. It stings, but any girl can take it with a little confidence.'

"Yes. I think that's fair," Hannah agreed. It was what she would have suggested.

"It must be the cane for you," Wendy said, her tone serious.

"Yes, Nothing less will do," Hannah nodded.

Wendy read the description again. 'The cane punishes you. It hurts. Expect some pain. It's suitable for a girl who must remember her punishment for at least a day. The marks on your bottom will last for three or four days. It hurts because it must. As long as you deserve it, you'll be able to take the pain.'

"We tell nobody, ever," Wendy whispered.

"Never ever," Hannah promised.

It was an old town house, in a busy street. Miss Abbott answered the white door in moments, dressed in a knee-length loose black cotton skirt and plain white blouse.

"Come in girls," She said.

They settled in the waiting room. It was spartan, the old wooden floor occupied by two dark green leather couches and a matching chair. Miss Abbott waved them to the couches. They sat together.

"Hannah filled me in on your argument, when we talked on the phone. I'm glad you've come, Wendy. I find girls who accept what they've done, and pay for it, feel better in moments. Is that what you're hoping for?"

"Yes, Miss Abbott," Wendy replied. "I provoked her. Nobody has punished me before, and I'm not looking forward to it. How bad will it be?"

"It will sting. The sting deepens into a sore ache in your bottom. But it helps you feel genuine regret, which makes the sting feel almost good. I won't pretend it will be easy. It hurts, but nobody's ever died from a good spanking with the gym shoe."

"Will I have to undress?" Wendy asked.

"You'll lower your suit pants and take it on your panties. It's increases the pain and having to undress is humbling. It shows you accept your punishment. In less than five minutes your punishment could be over. Why don't we start?"

"Okay," Wendy said, sounding braver than she felt. She'd imagined this when reading Alice's book, but standing up took all her strength.

They followed Miss Abbott to the study at the back of the house. Sun poured in the window from the garden. The old-fashioned, polished desk faced both girls.

"Hannah, stand back against the wall. Remain silent and watch, until it's your turn," Miss Abbott instructed. "Wendy, put your jacket on the chair."

Wendy slipped off her black suit jacket, placed it on the back of the chair and stood in front of Miss Abbott in her black suit pants and white blouse.

Miss Abbott took the gym shoe from the shelf behind her. Hannah watched Wendy shake at the sight of the worn rubber sole.

"It will be over in short order, but first you deserve to hurt, Wendy. Your behavior was not acceptable. You know it, Hannah knows it, and I know it. Do you have any excuse?" she demanded.

"N-n-no, Miss," Wendy stuttered.

"Face the desk and drop your pants," she ordered.

Wendy unbuttoned and unzipped her tailored suit pants. They fell to her ankles, revealing cute black-and-white striped cotton string bikini panties.

"Bend over," Miss Abbott said, her tone stern.

Wendy appreciated the firm command. It was impossible to disobey. She bent down over the desk and felt her skimpy panties stretch across her bum. If she'd known she was going to get punished, she'd have worn plain panties. It was embarrassing to have her cute girlish underwear revealed. But shame was due. It was fair. Now, they'd be her spanking panties.

The large gym shoe rested against her black and white cotton protection.

"Six smacks. Stay still," Miss Abbott announced.

The gym shoe crashed hard against her right cheek. Stinging burn spread into her bottom. Spanked for the first time, she wallowed in the intense pleasure of being obedient and hurting like hell.

She thought of her words to Hannah. She deserved it. The gym shoe lit up her left cheek, spreading sting into aching pain. It felt right and lit her sex into flame.

The flame met the next two hard smacks. They stung just as much, but her sex offered equal pleasure in compensation. The last two smacks were low, where her panties covered less. Delicious fiery sting burned her skin. Turned on hard, she soaked up the pain as it transformed into pleasure. She'd imagined this, but the reality was awesome, and stung like fury.

"You may stand up, Wendy," Miss Abbott said.

She stood and faced her disciplinarian.

"Now, apologize to Hannah and thank me. Do it well or I'll spank you again," she warned.

"Hannah. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm just sorry." Turning to Miss Abbott, she said, "Thank you for smacking me. I deserved it. Thank you for being straight with me. It hurt more than I'd expected, but was fair."

"You took it well. Pull up your suit pants and swap places with your friend," Miss Abbott instructed.

The two girls shared a small smile as they switched places.

"Hannah. Violence is disgusting. Hitting another girl is despicable. You've heard Wendy's apology. How do you feel?" Miss Abbott demanded.

"Like you couldn't cane me hard enough. I'm sorry, and ashamed," she replied.

"Let's see, shall we? Take off your suit jacket and your skirt as well."

Hannah laid them both on the chair where Wendy's jacket still hung and faced the desk, her black printed cotton briefs on display. Covered with gorgeous bright flowers, like a photo taken at night, they were not panties to be punished in, but she had slapped her co-worker in them and had no choice.

"Bend over," Miss Abbott commanded.

She hadn't noticed Miss Abbott reach for the cane, but heard it swish through the air, accompanying her command.

She bent down over the desk in her white blouse, her pretty, thin briefs stretched across her bottom. The cane tapped against them. She breathed out. Nobody had ever watched her getting caned before, but it was right for Wendy to witness her shame.

The cane scorched a line of intense pain across her bottom. She fisted her hands and flattened them again. It should hurt. As much as possible. Wendy was giving her the chance to keep her job. The next strokes fired fury into her behind. The formality of the situation cast a firm shadow over her pleasure. She took her strokes with respect and pride. She deserved them.

Miss Abbott tapped her bottom to warn her the last two were coming low, where she was bare. Twice, the rattan sliced across her lower bottom, burning a band of fiery heat and vicious pain. Two distinct weals would accompany her as she sat this week.

"You may stand, Hannah," Miss Abbott said. "You took your caning well."

Hannah needed no instruction. She turned to Wendy, "I'm sorry for slapping you. Thank you for giving me this chance to make amends."

To Miss Abbott, she said, "Thank you, miss, for caning me hard. I deserved it. I'm sorry you had to."

"Get dressed, Hannah. It's been a pleasure meeting both of you."

Next morning, Wendy looked up as Hannah approached. She went to meet her in the middle of the room, near where the incident had happened. Hannah opened her arms and gave Wendy an almighty hug. Wendy hugged her back. Nobody could misconstrue the gesture. They both wanted their co-workers to forget what had happened.

One girl interrupted Wendy on the way back to her desk. "Well, that's better. Why did you forgive her?"

Hannah was still in earshot.

Wendy stroked her cheek with a grin, and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "You don't know how strong she is."

Clare and Miss Roberts' stories are told in At the Top