by Frank Limadere
Kimberley Kennedy watched Wendy Haverforth's departing back and could not help a little smirk at how the girl minced when she walked. Unless the eighteen year old was mistaken, there were two very sore hot bottom cheeks rubbing unpleasantly together under Miss Haverforth's skirt.
The smile evaporated when she heard the stern voice of her employer Andrea Mahoney, who the girl regularly called Aunty Andrea, say, "Kim, may I see you in my parlour please? Grace Nielsen showed me something very interesting."
It wasn't so much what Andrea had said, it was the tone and the mention of Grace Neilsen. Ms Neilsen was a new client. Kimberley had babysat her delinquent son, Trent, not all that long ago, and she had made a rather foolish decision at the end of that engagement. Andrea's mention of the woman, who had been over the chestnut-haired disciplinarian's lap earlier that afternoon, could mean that Kimberley's chickens were coming home to roost.
"Ummmm... it's nearly five ma'am," Kimberley said, flustered and fussing with her immaculate mane of honey blonde hair as she did so, which she was prone to do when nervous. "Mum's gone home, do you want me to close a little early?"
Andrea's green eyes looked Kimberley up and down as she tried to decide what to say. She settled on, "Yes, Kimmy," making the teenager blush as she used the childish diminutive of her name. "I think closing for the day would be a good idea. I'd also like a cup of coffee, do you think you could arrange that when you come in?"
"Yes, Miss Andrea," the girl replied respectfully as she shut down her computer and put her work things away in their desk drawers.
As Kimberley made coffee for her employer, her mind worked overtime. She and Andrea regularly had performance reviews, although they were generally quite informal. The two would take tea in Andrea's parlour after work and chat about things. Sometimes it was afternoon tea with cakes outside in reception, which Kimberley's mother, Gabrielle, also attended in her capacity as the Spank Shop's part time employee. This, however, did not sound like that. There had been an edge in Aunty's voice this time. It was an edge that she generally honed by smacking someone's bottom.
As a junior employee of Clarkstown's Spank Shop... in fact Kimberley didn't know why she or anyone else called it Clarkstown's Spank Shop, she was almost entirely certain it was one of a kind, although she did fantasise about opening a franchise elsewhere one day, Kimberley had a rather unique job description. Like most young office workers, she made coffee, organized appointments and did bookwork; however, unlike many of them, Kimberley also dispensed spankings.
The girl did not spank as often as Andrea or Gabrielle, but then they were both older and more experienced, and that was largely their job descriptions. Kimberley's official title was receptionist, although she preferred office administrator or even executive assistant, and she often signed email correspondence on behalf of Andrea that way. Just recently she had been permitted to stretch her spanking wings a little and administer discipline to a twenty-two year old by the name of Misty Kendall. According to the girl's mother and Misty herself, she had done an extremely impressive job. Buoyed by spanking a girl four years her senior (prior to that she had largely dealt with younger clients), Kimberley had started to refer to herself as a Discipline Consultant and even had some business cards printed out. She had given one to Grace Neilsen not all that long ago. Just a few days ago she had begun to regret the action, and uppermost in her mind how Aunty would react when she found out about it.
Kimberley carried the steaming mug through to Andrea, and set it gently on the table beside the woman's chair. "Thanks, Kim," Andrea said, picking up the mug, blowing on the coffee gently to cool it and then taking an experimental sip. "Lovely," she sighed, offering, "Take a seat please Kimmy."
Kimberley sat gingerly on the edge of one of the room's two couches and looked around herself. The Igniter was sitting on the arm of the other couch. Aunty must have used that on Wendy. The only thing that produced screams that were louder than the wicked strap Andrea had christened The Igniter, was the cane, and that was still sitting on the caning horse in a dark corner. Kimberley shuddered as she looked at the short thick strap, and remembered her own encounter with it.
The eighteen-year-old's attention was drawn by the single item on the coffee table; it was a business card, a plain white business card with simple black lettering on it.
"You're no doubt wondering why you're here, Kimberley Susan," Andrea said in her soft cultured drawl.
Kimberley suppressed a wince. Andrea had called her Kimberley Susan. That was not a good sign. She generally only did that when the girl was in trouble.
"Yes, ma'am," Kimberley whispered, feeling more and more on edge with every passing second.
"Do you see the card on the table?" Andrea asked, sipping her coffee.
Kimberley nodded.
"Pick it up please."
Kimberley leaned forward and picked up the card in shaking fingers. She looked at it and swallowed hard. It was the same one she had presented Grace Neilsen with.
"It's one of ours," Kimberley said in as innocent a tone as she could, and tried to will the uncomfortable tingling in her hindquarters to go away.
"Is it?" Andrea asked, putting mild surprise in her voice.
"It's got our name and number on it, ma'am," Kimberley said in a faltering voice.
"I did note that, Kimberley Susan. It was what was on the bottom under my name and the shop's number that interested me. I don't recall seeing that before. Could you read it out please, young lady?"
Kimberley took a deep breath and stammered out, "K-kimberley K-kennedy."
"Go on," Andrea encouraged her.
"It's got a telephone number."
"That's your cell phone number, is it not, Kim?"
"Yes, ma'am," the girl admitted, her cheeks catching fire.
"Read the rest," Andrea ordered.
Kimberley hung her head and whispered, "Discipline Consultant."
"I didn't quite hear that, my girl."
Kimberley repeated the title louder, and Andrea exclaimed "Yes, that was it!"
Kimberley blinked rapidly to try and hold back tears.
"I don't recall giving you a promotion, young woman," Andrea continued, sipping her coffee. "Your title is receptionist. I will also accept office administrator and even assistant. You are not a discipline consultant. I don't even know what that is!"
The tears started to spill from Kimberley's sky blue eyes.
"Oh, I'd keep those if I were you, Kimberley Susan," Andrea said sternly. "You're definitely going to need them later. Is the card you gave to Ms Nielsen the only one?"
"No, ma'am," Kimberley breathed.
"How many, Kim?" Andrea sighed.
"I think... I... a hundred."
Andrea's eyebrows climbed into her hair. "A hundred! What on earth possessed you, Kimberley Susan?"
"I... uuuhhh... I... d-don't know, ma'am," the girl cried.
"Have you given them all out?"
"No, Miss Andrea. Only about twenty."
Andrea set her mug down on the table with a firm click and looked very carefully at her young assistant. "Look at me, Kimberley Susan," she ordered in a level voice.
Kimberley tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her and met Andrea's gaze.
"Who, aside from Ms Neilsen, did you give these cards to?"
"Mrs Kendall and Roger's mother. I gave them to the Waynwright twins, but I don't know if they ever reached Mrs Waynwright. Mrs Harper got one, after all she has triplets, and..."
Andrea rested her forehead in one hand and waved at the girl to stop. "Yes, Kim. I get the picture. You are going to call every single person you gave one of those cards to and apologise. You will also ask them to return the card, and I will personally ensure that the remaining ones are destroyed. Do you understand me, young lady?"
"Yes, ma'am," Kimberley nodded. She was dreading have to make those phone calls and apologies.
"I do have to ask why, Kimberley?"
The girl thought about the question and tried to recall her thought processes. "It was after I spanked Misty. Mrs Kendall said I did such a good job and Mum was so proud of me, and I spank Roger every time now, so I just thought..."
"Precisely what you did not do was think," Andrea said, cutting the girl off sharply. "Kimberley, I understand that you have ambitions, and I think it's wonderful, sweetheart, but you need to understand that you are only eighteen years old. You have a lot of living to do and a lot of experience to have. This unfortunately is one of them."
"Yes, Aunty," Kimberley replied demurely, dropping her eyes to the hands clasped in her lap.
"That's one thing dealt with," Andrea said firmly, picking up her mug again and taking another sip.
"One thing?" Kimberley asked, her brow furrowing.
"There's also how you treated Wendy."
"She was sent here for a spanking, ma'am!" Kimberley protested.
"I am aware of that, Kimberley. I administered it. You weren't just stern with her, Kim. You were downright rude. There's a line and you crossed it. She's not the first client I've seen you bully like that, either."
The girl's mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"Oh, close your mouth, Kimberley Susan!" Andrea snapped. "The flies will get in."
Kimberley's mouth snapped shut and her cheeks coloured with the childish rebuke.
"It's not easy for someone like Wendy to have to report to me for her first ever spanking at the age of twenty-two. Being treated like a five year old and snapped at by someone four years younger than her doesn't make it any easier. People do come here to be spanked, Kimberley. They do not have to put up with abuse, though. Not all of our clients are sent here, either. Many of them come here of their own volition. It is going to stop, do you hear me, young lady?"
Kimberley swallowed hard and said softly, "Yes, ma'am."
Andrea's eyes softened a little. The girl was genuinely upset, and although they were not related she did regard Kimberley as a little sister or even a favourite niece. "What is it, Kim?" she asked gently. "You've been like a bear with a sore head all week."
Kimberley's tongue flicked out to moisten her lips and she started to answer. "I felt really guilty about the cards, Aunty. Evan's been working so hard in his new job that we hardly see each other and when we do he's always tired and doesn't want to go anywhere. We've been busy here and I get all stressed..." her voice faltered and she started to cry. Kimberley sat on the couch, with her face in her hands and sobbed.
"Oh, darling," Andrea said; she rose from her chair, sat beside the girl, put an arm around her shaking shoulders and drew her to her bosom. "That's it, sweetness. Cry it all out on Aunty's shoulder."
When she judged Kimberley had finished crying, she let the girl up and held her at arm's length. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed and her make up had run. "Feel better?" Andrea asked.
Kimberley nodded her golden head.
"A good cry can do wonders," Andrea said.
Kimberley gulped and nodded again.
"However, we still have matters to deal with, sweetheart, don't we?"
"Yes, Aunty."
"You go to the bathroom and clean up, change into your apron and come back out here."
Kimberley felt her stomach drop. "The apron, ma'am? It's so embarrassing!"
Andrea nodded. "That is part of the reason I make people wear them, Kimberley. You didn't seem too concerned for Wendy's intense humiliation earlier today."
"No, ma'am."
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.