Spanking & Chastening: Complications

I squirmed in the backseat of Dad's car as he pulled into my usual spot in the Quondam parking garage. The entire trip up I had hoped he would just drop me off at the curb, but deep down I knew he would not have made the trip himself unless he had other plans. As to what those plans might be, I could only guess. We had sat in relative silence the entire drive with Dad listening to his favorite talk radio station and me trying to find a comfortable way to sit while feeling ridiculous sitting in the backseat with the vacant passenger seat in the front.

"You don't have to walk me in," I said as we exited the parking garage on foot.

"I'm not. I need to speak with someone about this photo," Dad said, waving the cell phone at me as if I might not have known what he was talking about.

"I'm sure I could handle it," I said and reached out to take the phone from him.

He pulled it away, putting it back in his shirt pocket and said, "I'm not."

"Dad," I said trying desperately to find a reason to keep him from walking inside with me and quite possibly complicating my work situation to the point of total disaster, "Besides the fact it is embarrassing to have you walking me into work like I can't be trusted to go on my own, it's completely inappropriate and unprofessional. You don't want me to lose my job do you?"

He rolled his eyes at me as we kept on walking and said, "If my mere presence is going to get you fired, you won't need to work again cause we'll just hire a lawyer."

"That's not funny," I said.

"Neither are your lame excuses," He said, "This business of someone taking and distributing pictures of people in disciplinary situations while at work is serious. I'm going to make sure someone in this office treats it as such and that's the end of it."

"I can handle," I said.

"Maybe, but I can't trust that you will," Dad said, "I'm going to take care of it and unless you want a spanking right out here, I don't want to hear any more arguing about it. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," I said, giving up on finding a way to keep him out of the building. I knew from the start it was going to be a bad week, but the way things were going, it seemed like bad was falling short of describing it. As we walked in the front door I glanced hopefully over at Cathy, she at least knew about my dual identities and might have some clue that the man holding my arm was my father. She walked over to us from her post, at least somewhat aware that I had a problem by the look on her face.

"Cathy, good morning," I said. "My Dad here has an issue he wants to bring up to someone, probably Mrs. Anderson."

"That's right," Dad said.

"Certainly, Miss Beaumont. If you would give me a moment to call up, I'm sure I can arrange a meeting Mr. Beaumont," Cathy said.

"I don't want to hold my daughter up if it's not absolutely necessary, it seems she's in enough trouble as it is," Dad said.

"Quite right, Mr. Beaumont," Cathy said, with too smug a smile on her face as she looked over to me, "You can run along to your assignment Miss Beaumont, I'll take good care of your father, I promise."

I shook my head at her for a moment, but I knew she would not do anything to harm me or my father. Embarrass me, well that was a different story and given my circumstances for the week it was just par for the course. I said, "Thank you, Cathy," And left the two of them alone.

Mr. Foley seemed to be undressing me with his eyes as I walked from the elevator to his desk. On any other day I would have taken offense, maybe even said something, but I had much bigger fish to fry and there was the slight matter he could actually order me to undress for real. I stopped and rested my hands on his desk, looking down at him in his chair. He glared straight back up at me obviously trying to decide whether I was crossing any lines with my more commanding than submissive stance.

"I need to speak with Mrs. Anderson right now," I said.

"No you don't. I have your assignment for the day. You'll work in acquisitions up on the 18th floor today. You're expected already and complaining to Mrs. Anderson isn't going to change that," He said.

"Thank you for the assignment, Mr. Foley. I'll get to it just as soon as I've seen Mrs. Anderson," I replied, trying to keep a sense of urgency in my tone without sounding disrespectful. It is harder than you might think.

"Mrs. Anderson is not going to disrupt her—

"Miss West," Mrs. Anderson said, walking over to me and completely ignoring Mr. Foley, "It seems we have a problem."

I turned to her and said, "Yes. Do you know about the photo?"

"Is that what this is about? What kind of photo?" She asked.

"Of me delivering mail on one of the upper floors yesterday," I said.

"And it got back to him?" She asked, skepticism in her voice.

"That's the real issue," I said.

"Come back into my office," She said and started leading the way but after a half step turned back to Mr. Foley, "A Mr. Beaumont will be exiting the elevators in about two minutes. You will not discuss anything with him, but you will send him straight to my office. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." He replied.

Mrs. Anderson closed the door behind us as we entered her office and said, "This is a real nightmare."

"Someone on an upper floor has to know both my identities somehow," I said.

"Not necessarily, but it is a frightening possibility. Is there any chance you know someone, maybe went to school with them and they might not know you as Virginia West at all?" She said.

"No, I don't think so. Mr. Candle was quite meticulous in making sure I had no connection to anyone here or at least so I thought," I said.

"There is another possibility as well, but I'll keep that to myself for the moment. I realize this situation has spiraled outside of your ability to effectively control, but if you can see anyway to keep your parents from returning here after today, it would be in everyone's best interests." She said.

"I tried even today, but as you say this is all well outside my ability to control. Maybe with your help though?" I said.

"What would have me do?" She asked.

"He needs to be convinced you are in control of the situation and take it seriously," I said.

"That should not be a problem because I am and I do," She said, glancing outside her office.

I followed her gaze and saw my father making his way through the desks on his way to join us. We had only a few moments before he would enter the office and it suddenly occurred to me, I had no reason to be sitting in her office and participating in the discussion as far as he was concerned.

"He's not going to want me here and it might seem a bit suspicious if you do," I said.

Mrs. Anderson nodded and said, "You have your assignment for today?"

"Yes," I said.

"Good, take your skirt and panties off and bend over my desk. I'll give you a quick paddling and then you can be on your way. That should keep your father from becoming suspicious about your presence in here," She said.

As much as I did not like her solution, I really saw no other choice myself. Quickly, I unfastened my skirt and let it slide down my legs while I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and jerked them down to follow. Dad knocked on the door and opened it to enter just as I was laying the items on the back of Mrs. Anderson's visitor chair.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Dad said as I bent over the desk trying not to die from humiliation.

"Nonsense Mr. Beaumont. I'm sure you've seen and spanked your daughter's bare bottom plenty of times," Mrs. Anderson said, stepping out from behind her desk with one of the typical blue leather paddles in her hand. "By the looks of it, as recently as this morning even. I bet you had her squirming the whole trip to the office."

"Her mother did that after she decided to act like a five year old and go running in the house," Dad said.

"Well, a very nice job in any case and obviously she needs a good amount of discipline," Mrs. Anderson said as I began to wonder if they were going to have their entire meeting with me bent over her desk waiting for swats.

"You can rest assured she'll be getting a dose of my paddle at home so long as she is being disciplined here at work," Dad said.

"That's an excellent idea. I'm glad to hear it. What kind of paddle do you use?" Mrs. Anderson said.

"A typical wooden paddle, like those they used to use in the schools," Dad said.

"That's a pretty serious implement. I bet she bawls like a baby after a couple swats from that," Mrs. Anderson said, while my face burned hotter and hotter from embarrassment. I was not quite to the point of asking for my spanking, but I was getting close.

"You should see the way she dances around the room after a good paddling. You'd swear her butt must have caught fire," Dad said.

"Yes, I've seen her do some little dances here," Mrs. Anderson said, "Adorable to be sure and you can bet she knows better than to try and rub out any of that sting."

"You can bet it's the same at home. In fact, if we hadn't had to get her up here to work, she'd still be standing in a corner with that butt on display," Dad said.

"Excellent," Mrs. Anderson said, "You know I really respect the way you handle discipline in your home Mr. Beaumont. Allison is obviously a very stubborn and silly girl at times and I can't even imagine how much worse she would be without your efforts."

"I'm ashamed how much trouble she's been here at work, but I have no doubt we'll get her turned around," Dad said.

"I'm sure we will," Mrs. Anderson said, "Now, far be it for me to criticize, but I would like to point out that heavy wood implements can be a problem in long term disciplinary situations such as Allison's. We certainly don't want to bruise her to the point she can't take a good spanking when she needs one."

"If she can't handle the punishment then maybe she should start behaving," Dad said.

"I can certainly understand your viewpoint and I'm not trying to tell you how to discipline your daughter," Mrs. Anderson said, "But, I think you might be surprised how effective a spanking with leather implements like this paddle can be. I have a small selection of straps and some lexan paddles as well, all of which are less likely to leave the deep bruising of a wood paddle and yet still quite effective. In fact, because they don't bruise as easily, you can give a much longer spanking."

"It does sound like a nice alternative, but I'm not about to go out and buy a selection of expensive implements just because she's landed herself in a thicket of trouble," Dad said.

"I wouldn't even suggest it," Mrs. Anderson said, "However, I have plenty of implements here and you could pick out whichever one's you like best to take home with you today. We can simply have Allison pay for them over time with a small monthly deduction from her paycheck. It seem only fair after all, they are really for her benefit."

Laying there on her desk, I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It was as if they did not even realize I was still in the room. How they could miss the bare-ass young woman lying over the desk in the middle of the office, I do not know, but apparently I had finally received my miracle and turned invisible. If only!

"I might just take you up on that offer, but first we need to discuss another matter," Dad said.

"Oh yes, let me just take care of Allison and send her on her way and then we can discuss your matter privately," Mrs. Anderson said.

"Be my guest," Dad said, and I rolled my eyes thankful no one could see the look on my face.

Mrs. Anderson apparently thought my Dad needed a demonstration on just how effective a leather paddle can be. She did a good long wind up and then started slapping the paddle against my backside, from cheek to cheek, at a blurring speed. The whap of the paddle against one buttock would barely reach my ears when the paddle would impact the other side. I weathered it well enough at first but the sting built to a flame quickly and soon I was gyrating my hips against the front edge of the desk. When she finally stopped my cheeks were damp with tears and I had decided to swear off sitting for the rest of my life. Well maybe not quite that long but at least the rest of the day.

When she let me stand up, I could not help but do the little spanked girl dance that they both had so lovingly commented on earlier. I blushed the whole time and wished I could keep myself from doing it, but instinct is just something you can not fight. A glance at Dad revealed he was duly impressed by the results of her paddling and I did not even need to ask if I was going to soon see one of those damn blue paddles at home; It was a near certainty.

"I believe they are expecting you up on the 18th floor," Mrs. Anderson said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, trying to ignore Dad's presence.

"You can put your things back on outside," Mrs. Anderson said, by way of dismissing me.

I grabbed my skirt and panties from the back of the chair and walked out the door. I had almost pleaded to put them on inside her office, but then decided I better not press my luck. It was good enough to be allowed to put them back on before reporting for my assignment or so I told myself. As I stumbled into my panties and skirt, there were plenty of amused stares from the other HR personnel supposedly working at their desks.