by DJ Black
Karen was hopeless. She had only been working at the office a week and already she made more mistakes in administration than any of the other staff had ever made in their entire careers. Miss Hazelmere was all for sacking the girl but paternal old Barrington wouldn't hear of it. All he would say on the matter was, "She will learn."
All very well for him to say, but it wasn't him who had to phone 17 customers to explain variously why they had been sent the wrong invoices, received wrong packages and in some cases hadn't received anything at all.
She will learn, was that it? So much for 'You never had it so good'... it was all very well for the Prime Minister to say that but with record employment, girls like Karen were stepping in and out of jobs at will. In 1958: sack them and they didn't care; sack them and they were damn hard to replace.
Susan muttered a few choice words and wondered if the old man was finally going soft.
Karen Temple also had a habit of going early for lunch and coming back at least 15 minutes late. Barrington was usually in a meeting and never saw this or pretended not to. Hazelmere had to bite her tongue. This was going to be a classic case of choosing her battles.
"Do you think old Barrington will let me go early tonight?" Karen asked from her desk opposite. She wasn't even paying attention to her senior co-worker but currently sat fixed on her nails with a small metal file. She may have been a natural blonde but the ashen-white beehive definitely had some help from the bottle, and hadn't been cheap by the looks of it. It was definitely a salon job.
Susan gaped at Karen incredulously; the girl had absolutely no shame. "No, I don't think he will let you go home early," she snapped.
Karen rolled her eyes and made a sullen pout with her full lips.
All lips and hips that girl, Susan thought and shook her head. Blondes were all the rage it seemed. The Marilyn Monroe look was definitely in. With a hint of introspection the routine chestnut-headed Susan wondered if she were jealous.
That train of thought was rudely interrupted. "What do you think he would do about it if I did go?" Karen asked without breaking off from her beauty routine.
Susan glared. Not some many years back a certain rookie brat, not a million miles from where Karen was sitting got her panties warmed by one Gerald Barrington esquire for far less cheek. Had she learned? Not quite, a second session had finished with a threat to take her knickers down if she didn't buck her ideas up.
After one monumental screw-up she had faced the choice of the sack or a very sound spanking on the bare bottom. She might easily have resigned and found another job, but she had stuck to it and taken the consequences, as painful and embarrassing as they had been. More than once she had had to contend with a red face and a very red bottom; she had learned alright.
"Why don't you go and ask him?" Susan said icily, half hoping that she would.
Karen mouthed the words back in muttered mockery and sneered before returning to her make-up and nails touch up.
Susan was beginning to wonder if her irritation with the girl was turning into out and out loathing.
It was a few days later when Gerald Barrington raised his voice to summon Susan into his office.
The senior girl gulped and felt her bottom clench. She hadn't been spanked in almost a year, but the tone was unmistakable. Barrington's face was like a brooding sky before a storm and Susan licked her lips nervously as she waited for him to speak.
"The Jamison order," he began.
Jamison & Sons were their biggest clients, Susan braced herself.
"You checked the invoice before we sent it?" Barrington said darkly.
Susan tried to think. Of course she had, "Yes Sir," she ventured hesitantly.
"And it went?" her boss continued.
Susan cast her gaze around looking for a memory or an answer before finding it. "I put it in Karen's in-tray, for the post I mean. It was checked and sealed."
Barrington relaxed a touch. "Old man Jamison called while I was out. He is going to call back. That usually means a problem and I know the orders are good; we talked them over a golf game not two days ago."
"Can I check?" Susan sounded almost meek. Please don't let Karen have screwed up, she prayed.
"I think you had better," Barrington growled.
Susan turned an about face and hurried out to Karen's desk. As usual her in-tray was full and Susan hefted a pile of envelopes and sifted through them. The invoice was still there.
It was a long walk back to Barrington's office carrying the envelope and she wondered if she would get sent to the corner again. She would die if Karen saw her compromised like that.
Barrington sighed. "I suppose you are going to blame Karen again," he said.
"No Sir," Susan groaned, "it's my fault."
Barrington eyed her sternly. "I will deal with you later."
"Yes Sir." Susan was almost relieved. Later meant after office hours and by then Karen would have been long gone.
She hadn't gone two paces when Barrington said in a thoughtful voice, "Send Karen in when she gets back. Where is she anyway?"
"Lunch sir," Susan answered in a neutral voice.
"Lunch? It is almost two," he said in surprise. "Did she leave late?"
"N-no," Susan said, hoping she didn't sound like she was telling tales again.
"Hmm," he said. "Send her when she gets back."
"Sir," Susan acknowledged. Fat chance anything would come of it.
"You wanted to see me, Mr Barrington?" Karen said girlishly and fluttered her eyelashes.
Barrington looked up and smiled. "Miss Temple, yes, come in and close the door." He looked at his watch. "Good lunch was it?"
Karen blushed and shifted uneasily on the spot in front of his desk. "Yes I..." she finished with a nod.
"I noticed the other day you had your coat on a good five minutes before home time." He said casually. "You very efficiently went on the dot of five."
Karen pouted and avoided his gaze.
"Miss Hazelmere was still here at 5.30 I noticed," he continued.
Karen shrugged and now certain that was not her problem, finally met his eyes.
"You hadn't cleared your in-tray I understand, not even the post, a simple enough task to attend to on your wait out, I would have thought." He smiled again as if awaiting a perfectly plausible explanation.
"Mr Barrington I don't see..." she countered.
Barrington held up his hand to bat her words away. "Let's not waste each other's time with recriminations. You are a bright girl, you understand my point. Miss Temple, you have a bright future here, I am certain of it. You just need to apply yourself. I am certain you will learn."
"Thank you Mr Barrington," Karen said shyly.
"Now I don't think you have shown Miss Hazelmere respect. After all she is the senior girl," he said and smiled.
Karen didn't reply.
"So here is what we are going to do. I am going to give you three chances, not bad eh? But I am going to leave those chances in the hands of Miss Hazelmere." Barrington smiled magnanimously.
"Chances, Mr Barrington?" Karen didn't like the sound of this.
"Yes, the next time you forget to post a simple letter for instance, or come back late from lunch... that kind of thing, and Miss Hazelmere thinks it warrants bringing to my attention, then you will get a warning," he explained.
Karen frowned. She really didn't like the sound of this at all.
"The first time it happens we will have a little chat, like this one." Barrington positively beamed at her. "After that I will have Miss Hazelmere write you a memo outlining your shortcomings. If we have any more disrespectful behaviour then you will face disciplinary action."
"You said I would have three chances?" Karen blurted.
"Oh yes. You see an adverse report will affect your pay review, but we can avoid that with an unofficial sanction of some kind. The latter, not being on your record, will also protect you from dismissal proceedings for repeated offences, so a double advantage really." Barrington fixed her with a steely gaze and leaned forward.
Karen felt the heat rise and dipped her head. So she had been caught out sneaking back from lunch, she would be more careful, message received.
"Don't worry about it Miss Temple, you will learn," he said and indicated the door with a paternal wave of his hand.
Susan Hazelmere stood in front of Barrington and chewed her lower lip nervously. The butterflies in her tummy were working overtime, unlike the rest of her colleagues, leaving them both alone in the office.
"You may leave the pullover on, just remove your skirt and so forth," Barrington coughed.
"Yes Sir," Susan said shyly as she blushed furiously.
"I am waiting for a call, so once you are ready you can stand in the corner," he said sharply.
Susan swallowed hard and shot a look at the exterior door that led to the corridor. She prayed the cleaners would not come too soon. There were two doors to his office; one leading to the outer office, the other straight into the hall. She took a deep breath and reached back to first unbutton and then unzip her skirt before wriggling out of it.
Barrington had stood up and was gazing out of his window with a cigarette; a gentlemanly gesture that she appreciated. It didn't make stepping out of her panties any easier, which she stepped out of only after a deep sigh.
As ever it was strange standing in her boss's office in just her stocking tops and woollen top and her hands cupped her sex protectively. For a long second she forgot what to do and just all but hopped from one foot to the other.
Then taking a deep breath she turned to the corner and parked herself there, with her nose to the seam of the wall. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she resisted the temptation to cover her bottom with them and instead grasped them in the small of her back.
By some instinct Barrington turned. Seeing that Susan was ready he ran his eye down her exposed curves. Full and pert, he decided and availed himself of a small smile. Well worth the spanking and much deserved, he told himself. Down boy, this is business, he self-chided.
Susan felt silly and embarrassed as she stood in the corner like an errant child. She couldn't decide if it was more humiliating having a man looking at her bare bottom from his desk or ignoring her while he had a business conversation. Besides there was a draft and the goose bumps peppered her thighs and bottom.
Always at the back of her mind was that somebody would come into the outer office and hear something, the cleaners for sure. They might even just walk in to empty the waste basket. Then there was Karen, she might have forgotten something.
To chivvy Mr Barrington along a bit she rocked back and forth a little to emphasis her bottom. Not a thought out or even conscious strategy, just a native instinct of girl with a deep need for a good sound spanking.
Finally the phone call ended and she heard him fiddle with papers and then put something away in a drawer. Or maybe get something out? Her eyes widened as she remembered what he kept there.
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