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"Night, Clare," Rebecca called, striding past the office of the Personal Assistant to the Chief Executive.

FMI developed a high-tech stock trading platform, inspired by its own trading house, and she was proud to have a job here.

"Night, Rebecca," Clare called back, surprised to see the busy girl leaving just after 5pm.

Rebecca headed to the elevators to ride down forty floors. She wasn't heading home. She had a 6pm appointment with Miss Roberts.

The strict disciplinarian had been a luxury which her financial circumstances had forced her to forego. Two months of paychecks in hand, her life was coming back to order and minor comforts were re-appearing in her studio apartment.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say she loved Clare. The shrewd girl had helped her get her new job as Personal Assistant to the Chief Operating Officer. Their fortuitous encounter on the Virtue app, a place for Miss Roberts' clients to socialize, had ripped her from the jaws of defeat and placed her back at the top.

The night Clare had invited her for drinks with Jessica and Anya had forced her out of her tiny apartment, into her Gucci jeans and into the arms of friends. When Clare's boss, Mark, had hired her the next morning while his COO was abroad, she'd walked out of the interview and made a solemn vow to herself to stand by Clare forever, no matter what.

Standing by Clare, in the physical sense, kept lighting up her phone. Every time they came close, the Virtue app notified her she was 'in the presence of an Angel'. She'd muted the notifications for Clare, Jessica and Anya. She already knew they were all Angels. The nickname given to members of Virtue had entertained them all.

It was Miss Roberts' other app she'd used to book this evening's appointment. She hadn't specified the reason she must get punished. The small box couldn't fit the size of her wrongdoing.

When money had been running out, she'd canceled everything except her gym membership. The annual renewal was the only chance to escape the contract, and she'd missed it, costing herself a substantial sum each month when she could afford nothing.

She boarded the local train for the twenty-minute journey to Miss Roberts. The rough cloth seat pressed into her thin suit pants. Her navy Gucci suit had mocked her from her closet while she'd been seeking a job in her sweatpants, but back in it and back in the game, she felt obliged to recognize her failures and take the painful punishment she deserved. Her tight tailored pants had not contained sound soreness for over six months. Tonight she would receive a serious punishment, the kind a girl couldn't forget in a hurry. The ongoing pain for a few days was fair penance for her reckless disregard of the gym membership and for her many failures during job interviews. She'd missed the cathartic presence of Miss Roberts in her life.

"Good evening, Rebecca. It's lovely to see you," Miss Roberts said, ushering her into the front room.

The familiar venue for unburdening herself was a welcome sight. She'd never worked out Miss Roberts' age, but guessed she was in her thirties. The comforting presence of her strict disciplinarian brought a welcome warmth to her heart.

Taking a seat on the couch, she said, "I'm so sorry I haven't seen you in so long."

"How have you been?" Miss Roberts asked.

Rebecca told of being laid off, her job hunt and the gym membership saga, which raised a frown from Miss Roberts. But she brought a smile to her disciplinarian's face with the tale, told in dramatic detail, of how she'd met Clare on Virtue and Clare's part in getting her in the door at her company.

"That is so nice to hear," Miss Roberts said. "Thank you for telling me. It's everything I imagined when I created Virtue."

"It's the absolute most wonderful thing to happen to me in ages. I owe Clare for the rest of my life."

Miss Roberts smiled. Such a debt could underlie life changing friendships. She'd believed her girls would benefit from meeting each other. The statistics for Virtue showed abundant conversation and connections, but the genuine story in front of her burst her heart with joy. However, it didn't alter the faults which had led up to it or her obligation to hold Rebecca to account. "What punishment do you feel suits your situation?" she asked.

"The gym membership could have sunk me. It almost did. As for my many mistakes in interviews, I've learned from them. But I feel I've earned a 'Serious'."

The thoughtful selection from Miss Roberts' extensive menu meant two severe cane strokes across her tender thighs after she'd taken six across her panties. Her plain white cotton bikini panties had given her pleasure during the day under her tight suit pants. Denied the luxury of wearing sophisticated underwear, the pure penance before her appointment had held her in the right frame of mind. Miss Roberts demanded clients present themselves in ordinary white cotton bikini panties. The enforced innocence had always had a damming effect on her. She could choose such honest panties by herself, but being required to wear them was a delicious humiliation which had kept her proud company throughout the day.

"A 'Serious' is a decent decision," Miss Roberts said. "But the period you've gone without punishment may include things you haven't been able to keep track of."

Rebecca said, "I'm sure it does."

"I'll add twenty with the gym shoe, before I cane you."

The swift addition to her punishment thrust pride into Rebecca. It had been way too long since anyone had delivered a damming verdict on her behavior, and she'd missed it.

"Yes, Miss," she said.

"Come with me," Miss Roberts said, rising.

Rebecca followed her into the study. The room was rich in meaning. She would not leave without being given a sound beating, one she'd earned and deserved. Standing in front of the wide wooden desk, she turned to face Miss Roberts.

"Suit coat on the chair, please," Miss Roberts said, pointing to the wooden backed chair beside the desk as she withdrew the white canvas gym shoe from the cupboard.

Rebecca obeyed. In her fitted white blouse and tailored navy suit pants, she dropped her hands by her sides and waited for instruction.

"Drop your pants," Miss Roberts commanded, bending the clean, ruthless rubber sole of the large shoe between her hands.

Delicious obedience thrust through Rebecca's core as she unbuttoned her suit pants and eased them down to her ankles. She could have stopped at her knees, but bent over with her panty-clad butt in the air, she pushed them right down, savoring her humble submission. Standing stripped to her white cotton panties, she faced Miss Roberts.

"You made your job search harder by letting the pressure damage your performance."

Shame washed over Rebecca under the strict reprimand.

"Bend over the desk," Miss Roberts said.

Rebecca lowered herself into the long missed, humble position. The rubber rested against her taut cotton and she relaxed. She needed discipline. The extra punishment with the heated rubber sole to beat her bottom was fair, and she appreciated being given no choice.

Bright sting burst across her right cheek as the resounding smack of the shoe's impact reached her ears. Sting spread further as the rubber sole stung her cheek in the same place. The burning spot stung harsh heat into her flesh as she pressed her palms into the desk and took her punishment. She'd made multiple interview mistakes. Some she'd noticed and some she'd only later identified. The deep burn switched sides and lit a fresh fire in her left cheek. Grateful for the relief, she scolded herself for not performing her best as the heat built and bitter sting suffused her skin.

"You were at the top of your game, Rebecca. You should have interviewed better, but I expect you realize this."

"Yes, Miss. I'm sorry," Rebecca said. Bent over the desk and made to answer for her failure, shame doused her, and her words revealed deep remorse.

"Good girl," Miss Roberts said, placing the gym shoe back in the cupboard and extracting the regular rattan cane. Approaching the bent girl, she flicked the cane through the air.

Rebecca shivered. The swift sound of fast rattan always brought fear. It would sting and hurt her. But it had to. She needed it.

"You knew money mattered and gym membership is not a trivial expense."

The cost had made her sick each month. Anger at her stupidity overwhelmed her as the cane tapped her panties.

"Stay still. This has to hurt," Miss Roberts warned.

Vicious sting cut into her bum cheeks and soared, lifting away her guilt and replacing it with acute anguish. Intense heat pulsed into her behind as the misery and shame of being caned drove fear and respect through her. As strokes burned stunning heat into her, she took the fire and funneled it into her mind. She visualized the sizable cost of the gym membership on her laptop screen, and her anger rose at her mistake. Horrified by how close she'd been to going broke, she pushed her white panties out to greet the cane and embraced each stroke as it hurt her more.

The last two strokes scorched her lower bottom right where she would sit. As fire tore across her skin, she gasped and wallowed in the justness of her caning.

"Your neglect was dangerous," Miss Roberts said. "It almost sank you."

The rightness of her scolding forced honor into her soul. Despite her pain, she straightened her legs and offered them for their terrible punishment.

"Sitting will be even more unpleasant, and you deserve it," Miss Roberts said.

She did. She owed it to herself to endure a few days where her legs burned while she worked at the job she was lucky to have.

The cane whipped into her thighs, denting her flesh with fire and fury. She cried out and twisted her head to handle the storm of pain, but kept her feet planted and her thrashed legs dead still. The rattan returned and seared her skin. Pain exploded through her tenderness. Tears reached her eyes, but fell back as self-respect soared through her. Bent and beaten as she should be, she allowed her sorrow to flee and replaced it with respect for Miss Roberts and herself.

"Stand up," Miss Roberts said.

Rebecca rose and turned to face her disciplinarian. "Thank you for punishing me, Miss. I appreciate you, more than ever."

Miss Roberts offered a rare hug. She could see the struggle the girl had gone through.

Rebecca enjoyed the kindness. "Sorry I couldn't come before."

"It's okay," Miss Roberts said, "you're here now, and I'm so glad."

Miss Roberts watched Rebecca leave, certain she couldn't ignore what she'd learned. One of her girls had stood up for another and got her a job interview in her most desperate hour. It must have been a sound decision because the company had hired Rebecca. Ordering a lovely box of chocolates for delivery, she added a very special note, packed with pride and pleasure.

Next morning, Clare went into Rebecca's office for a chat. The glass walls meant she could see Rebecca was already in from her own desk on the opposite corner of the floor.

"Hi, Babe," she said.

Rebecca glanced up and beamed.

There was a guilt-free look when a girl had rediscovered her obedient calmness. Clare couldn't put it into words, but Rebecca had it. Last night's swift departure only added to her certainty.

"How are you?" Clare asked.

"I'm wonderful this morning, thank you." Meeting her friend's gaze, Rebecca added, "Wonderful, but somewhat sore."

"I guessed," Clare grinned. "Was it bad?"

"A 'Serious'," Rebecca said, shifting in her seat to ease the pain in her thighs.

She'd surrendered to the justness of her severe caning last night and driven pleasure through her sex. After that first night with the girls, she'd slid down the wall of her tiny apartment, her Gucci jeans around her knees, chocked full of stunning orgasms. More heavy sessions with her fingers had welcomed her back to the world from her isolation. Last night, her 'Serious' from Miss Roberts had sent her straight home for a slew of pleasure.

This morning, she'd put on the same tight pantsuit with a matching navy string underneath. Her bare beaten bottom rubbed against her tight suit pants, receiving no more sympathy than her caned thighs. Enduring her soreness with grace drove delicious thrills into her sex and pride into her heart.

"It's done you good," Clare observed.

"So much good," Rebecca grinned. "I've missed her. There was a ton to deal with, so I'll be tender all week. But I feel fantastic."

"Of course you do. You're a good girl."

"You're the second person to tell me that," Rebecca said.

It was so nice to have someone share her shame. When she marched through the office, Clare would know her well presented backside was very sore under her suit.

Clare loved knowing Rebecca had received a punishment. It added to the depth of their friendship. She also had a sore bottom under her black stretch jersey body-con dress, delivered by Mark. He may be the CEO, but he was also her man, and last night they'd dealt with a catalogue of minor matters on her 'homework' list. They'd taken care of her list of accumulated mistakes with several beltings. A sound belting always turned her on with ferocious force and he'd fucked her hard on their glass desk at home, all her sins forgiven, but she didn't share any of this with Rebecca.

A small box of fine artisan chocolates met Clare when she returned to her desk. The pretty package in pink, green and white made her smile. The brief note on a cream card was unsigned, but it didn't need a signature. She peeked inside the box as she tucked the card into the side pocket of her bag. Feeling like the lovely girl she'd always dreamed she'd be, the words from the card spun in her mind, 'I heard what you did. You're an exceptional Angel.'