Fourth of the Month

A planned meeting, although the consequences are unusual

By Katherine Jones

It was the 4th August 2016, a hot day.

A 48-year-old man in a dark grey suit pulled up in his Mercedes outside a solicitor’s office. He gathered up a pile of papers and made his way into the reception area. Five minutes later he returned to his car with a rueful smile. He made a short mobile phone call and then set off for a coffee shop on the other side of the business park.

Twenty-five miles away in a large open plan office a woman, aged 36, took a phone call at her desk. She removed her glasses and listened intently to the caller. She then picked up a pen along with her mobile phone and got up from her desk. Smiling, she unconsciously smoothed down her black pencil skirt and then pushed the pen into her hair which was tied up attractively on top of her head.

At 2pm that afternoon the man, now rather sweaty and dishevelled, burst through the door into his office. The woman was already there and sat in the farthest corner of the dimly lit and sparsely furnished room. She was ready with her glasses on, pen now in hand and note book resting on her crossed legs. He took a moment to look at her and register how very attractive she looked.

However, there was business for him to do.

“So,” he said, now standing over her. “You send me an hour early to my solicitors’ appointment! At least you can get yourself together to meet me at the time I told you.” He continued making his points. “Dawn tells me you have spent most of the morning on your phone whilst I was out. You know, I think you could be a competent PA if only you would make some effort and concentrate. What do you think I should do with you?”

She looked at him defiantly but with a tiny smile playing on her lips.

“You normally have an answer to that question,” she said.

“I do indeed, I do indeed,” he said, moving purposefully over to a tall cupboard at the back of the room.

He pulled out a rough looking garden cane which was bound at its tip with red electrical tape. He started tapping it slowly on the palm of his hand. She put down her note book, took off her glasses and looked up at him. He ignored her not very convincing protests about this not being fair and how she would “call the Police” about him. He pointed her to the meeting table at the centre of the room and she semi-reluctantly raised herself and moved slowly across, surreptitiously slipping the pen into her hair.

At this familiar point in the developing drama her protests stopped, and she complied fully with his commands. In truth the instructions were not required because the procedure was very familiar to her.

“Stand by the table. Lift your skirt. Bend over with your elbows touching the table. I am going to apply six strokes. Three with your panties on as some protection, and then three on your bare buttocks. I am hoping this will put some sense into you and make you focus on your work.

“Do not stand up or say anything during the punishment or I will add on extra strokes. Just accept your punishment.”

As she bent and raised her skirt as instructed, he took a moment to look at the scene in front of him and acknowledge that he was a lucky man. Her panties were dark grey with black lace trimmings.

‘Sumptuous,’ he thought.

Her gorgeous long legs were shown off to their best effect by sheer black pull ups and black high heels.

However, he again had to remind himself that there was business to do, so he got to work tapping her bottom rhythmically with the cane. Then he pulled back and saw her tense with an expectation of pain. A couple of quick taps followed to put her off the scent then a loud crack exploded in the room as the cane came down, cutting into her panties and the soft flesh beneath.

She let out a hushed “oh” and moved her right leg involuntarily. He followed up with a second stroke, this time causing her to let out two short breaths and lift her right leg again.

Waiting until she calmed, he gave two quick taps with the cane then held it back to relish the moment. When it finally landed he knew it was a very firm stroke and stood back to watch her arch her back and again lift her leg.

It was now time to instruct her to stand up and remove her panties. She understood that this meant taking them completely off rather pulling them down and she complied with a less then graceful finish, nearly losing her balance as she pulled the lacy garments off her high heels.

As she toppled and then righted herself the pen dislodged from her hair and fell to the ground. There was a moment of inaction between them until he picked up the pen and looked at her as she stood, slightly crouching, bare bottom displaying the three stripes of the initial part of the punishment.

“Did you have that pen in your hair?” he asked knowing the answer.

She didn’t turn around but gave a quick nod of consent and then bent low over the desk.

“You really are daffier then I ever imagined,” he told her as he lashed the cane across her exposed buttocks.

Whack! Whack!

Strokes five and six followed in quick succession. She panted and twisted her legs in response but managed not to stand up. She had made it through the six strokes, she thought. However, he had other ideas. His adrenalin was now in full flow.

“You are so daffy you can have some more,” he said, pushing her back over the table. Strokes seven and eight followed in quick angry succession, then he dropped the cane and spanked her striped bottom repeatedly as she cried out for him to stop.

An hour later she was back at her desk, clothes immaculate and with her glasses on, the very picture of professionalism, and focus on the task in hand. An email dropped in. It was the one she was expecting.

She read to herself the familiar content and style.

“Excellent work today as always. Thank you. I have put your bonus through as per our agreement and I am already looking forward to the 4th September for our next ‘daffy secretary day’. I liked your style in sending me an hour early to meet Greg this morning, though it was frustrating at the time. Dawn was also surprised by you spending so much time on your phone this morning. She said It was out of character, but I sorted it with her, don’t worry.

“The pen in the hair, though, made me really mad! It was a brilliant touch. Who would do that?! Almost as good as your 4th July stars and stripes panties last time!

You are the best PA whatever anyone says. You are a star every day of the week when you are mega efficient and brilliant at looking after me, but also a real star in your other role as the daffy secretary on the 4th of the month.”

The End

© Katherine Jones 2018