by DJ Black
Let us start with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, which is appropriate as I used to be a legal secretary. I am a fictional character; I exist merely as a vehicle to tell this story. Oh to be sure there is a grain of truth to this story, as there is with all good stories, but the events told did not happen exactly the way they will be related and they didn't exactly happen to me, because as I have said, I am a fictional character.
I hope you appreciate my honesty, by telling you this right at the start of this tale, but I thought it would establish a level of trust between us and you would know that I was not a liar. That is not to say what follows is true, it might not have happened at all. But let us assume that it did, which is much more fun, don't you agree?
My name is Brenda, but if you don't like it you can pick any name you like, I won't be offended. Obviously, Brenda is not my real name, unless it is double bluff, so it doesn't matter anyway. Many years ago, exactly when doesn't matter, but we are talking early 1960s I think, I was, as I said, a legal secretary.
I was 24 and I had a huge crush on my boss, who was at least 50. I never knew my own father, I won't bore you with that, it wouldn't be true even if I told you, so I suppose I had this whole father figure thing going on. Plausible? Well if not then make up your own reasons while I get on with the story.
I loved my job, but I wasn't very good at it. In fact, I was very bad at it. I had an assistant, a girl from the typing pool called Linda. She was a great shorthand typist but that was about it. In all other respects, she was as bad as I was.
Then one day between us, we managed to send some important legal documents to the wrong office. They always seem to be important don't they? I mean, I have never heard of unimportant documents being sent to the wrong office. Anyway, I was angry with myself and Linda and I really felt I had let my boss down.
My boss, I suppose I had better give him a name, not his real one of course. Sir Brian Hughes. I always wanted to work for a real 'sir'. So my boss, Sir Brian was livid. I got a real bollocking. Now it occurs to me that if you are not English or are too young to remember the 1960s then you might be getting lost at this point. Well I am not going to stop and explain everything, but for the record, a 'real bollocking' means I got shouted at and really well told off by someone who was very, very cross.
I got told off so much that I started to cry and Sir Brian immediately became upset and told me it was all right and it didn't matter, which was totally wrong. He had every right to tell me off and I told him so. In fact, I realised that given the nature of the mistake I expected to be getting the sack.
"There is no question of that," he said reassuringly. "These things happen."
"They happen to me every darn week," I snivelled. I do swear and I think maybe I did, but it is naughty so I changed that bit to make me look like a nicer person.
"Well quite," he groaned, not disagreeing you notice. "But that doesn't mean I am going to sack you. Maybe we can get a new girl instead of... thing out there."
"It's not thing's... I mean Linda's, fault. She's only a kid, I am suppose to be the senior," I pointed out.
"Linda yes, sorry, I knew that. It's just that it's not every day we lose £5,000 worth of business, I am bit overwrought," Sir Brian apologised as he mopped his brow.
"Well what are you going to do about it? We can't go on like this, really we can't sir."
"Just try to do better Brenda, that's all. At least try."
"Well you should at least spank me," I suggested.
"What?" he looked confused.
"Spank me. It is what my old boss used to do."
"Is it indeed? Are you sure you are not telling a tiny fib, Brenda?"
"No sir. When I worked in the hotel. I was always getting things wrong. We all did. Well the girls anyway. Then he spanked us. Really hard."
As unlikely as it seems, I was not making this up. Well unless I am, that's for you to decide. Our boss used to tell us to make up rooms and book certain people in. Even though we took great care, it seems were always getting it wrong. I think that sometimes things got 'changed' afterwards. Then he would call us into the office and tell us he was going to give us a spanking. The third day I was there, he called three of us new girls into his office and told us that we had to buck our ideas up. I was really surprised, being only 19, when he said that he was going to take our knickers down and give us all a sound spanking on our bare bottoms.
One of the girls, being a bit older than us suggested that she would rather leave and that she thought he was a rather unpleasant man. I think her exact words, or close to them were, "You can stick your job you flipping disgusting old pervert." Although she might not have said flipping.
After she had gone, Carol, the other girl got a bit upset and asked if she could be excused a spanking. He said no, which made sense to me at the time. I mean why should she be if she deserved it?
He put her over his knee and took her knickers down right in front of me. For a small girl she had a very big bum, I thought. It started off very white and ended up very red. Although it wasn't a very hard spanking and her tears were a bit over the top I thought.
When it was my turn, I was really embarrassed to have a man looking at my bare bum. Although my boss pointed out that I deserved it and it was part of the punishment. The spanking really hurt, although I didn't cry on that occasion.
I got spanked a lot after that. It was fun. Oh I don't mean I liked it, well I did sort of. It always hurt and sometimes I cried and sometimes I couldn't sit down afterwards. But it was fun afterwards when I was alone, if you know what I mean. Well I suppose you do or you wouldn't be reading this.
Anyway, I told all this to Sir Brian. Not the pervert bit obviously, I didn't think that would help sell my idea to him. He agreed that it was certainly a tempting idea.
"What are you going to use?" I asked him, blushing.
"What do you mean?" He seemed quite distracted.
"Well I don't see why you should hurt your hand on my bottom, it is me who has to be punished after all. And anyway I deserve a really sound spanking."
"What would you suggest?" he asked hesitantly.
On my very first day there, I noticed that all the typewriters had dust guards over the writing arms. These were long flat springy lengths of Bakelite type material. I had already sussed that they would be perfect for administering a spanking. I did that a lot in those days, all kinds of things used to catch my eye as possible spanking implements. Alright, I said I would be honest, they still do.
"I know just the thing, sir," I said and asked to be excused. I returned with the typewriter guard and handed it to him. "I am not wearing stockings, is that all right? I know it's better and girls are always wearing them in books and that, but I have tights on today," I apologised as I reached under my skirt and started taking down my hose.
"Perhaps you should leave your things on," he suggested.
"Don't be silly, sir. It wouldn't be a proper spanking if I did that. I know it's awful, but I deserve to be spanked on my completely bare bottom." I was really embarrassed. But I had to explain didn't I? I mean it would be cheating if I took advantage of his kind nature when I so obviously deserved to be properly punished.
I slipped my tights and knickers down to my knees and then went over to him. I was wearing a mini dress so when I flopped over his knee my bottom almost bared itself.
"How... how much do you think?" he asked.
"A lot I would think," I said, not really certain myself. "I have been very bad. Spank me until I am good and crying and then add a bit more."
"I see."
"Look please sir, do what you think, I really shouldn't be consulted." I was a little ashamed at my own impudence.
The first swat imparted a nice sting and wiggled a bit. There were a few more like that and he told me later that I actually started purring.
"You are not really doing it hard enough," I suggested as humbly as I could.
"Oh right oh," he saluted. It was cute.
Then it really hurt. Then the next was worse. After a few minutes, I couldn't help but cry.
"Are you all right?" he asked concerned. "You really are quite red."
"It's supposed to be like that, honestly sir, I have to be really well punished," I sniffed.
Actually, he did a really good job. I was very sorry long before he stopped spanking me and I really did want him to stop. That is how it should be.
When he eventually let me stand up I was crying my eyes out.
"Let that be a lesson to you," he said sternly, but he was smiling.
"Yes sir, sorry sir," I sobbed. "Shall I go and stand in the corner now?"
"Eh perhaps next time," he said reluctantly. "I really think we should work now and see if we can repair some of this damage."
I got dressed and went out into the outer office. Linda just sat there open-mouthed.
"Are we going to get the sack? I hate that typing pool," she said.
"No," I said rubbing my bottom.
"Did he spank you?"
"You bet."
"Is he going to spank me too?" She looked cute chewing her lip.
"I don't know. He ought to. But if he doesn't I will spank you myself," I said. "A new office policy."
"Oh gosh." Her hands went to her bottom. "I got the cane at typing school. My teacher said we were lucky, because in her day they got spanked at work as well. I thought that meant I wouldn't be."
"Well you were wrong weren't you?" I scolded.
I was way too sore to sit down, let alone take her over my knee so I told her I would spank her the next day after work, unless Sir Brian did it first.
"Oh," she pouted. But I liked that she didn't argue.
The next day she told me that she had been out for a drink with a friend and had asked her about spanking in the office. This annoyed me. She should know better than tattle about the workings of our office.
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