The HR meeting (M/F story)

"Hello, Brett. Glad you could come," Cassandra said as she welcomed me into her office and nodded at me to take a seat in the chair opposite her desk. Cassandra was the company's HR manager – a tall, slim redhead in her early thirties who always knew how to put you at ease with a smile. I knew enough about how HR operated not to trust that smile, though. She was neatly dressed in a dark blouse and designer trousers, and had her long hair tied back in a bun.

I sat down, returning her smile. "I always try to make time for important matters, and it sounded serious over the phone. What's this about, Cassandra?"

Sitting behind her desk, Cassandra steepled her fingers as she pondered how to begin the conversation. "I've heard some rumours about you and young Rhonda." She paused, and I sat silently as I waited for her to continue. "Rumours about the way you've been… disciplining her."

"I see," I said calmly. Rhonda was an intern who'd been working for us for about a year now. A bright, bubbly, scatter-brained girl of nineteen who usually did her best, though that was not always good enough.

"And I have to ask you… what are the truth of these rumours?"

I sighed. It was probably best to tell her the truth, I decided. "If you're asking whether I took the girl over my knee and spanked her, the answer is yes. I did."

I was delighted to see a blush appear on the cheeks of the HR manager, who was usually so calm and collected. "Ah. And what made you even think of doing such a thing?"

"She asked me to,” I told her. Cassandra raised an eyebrow, giving me a sceptical look, so I continued: "Rhonda is a decent enough worker, but she had a tendency to show up late a little too often. She also forgot quite a few important tasks I gave her, even when I suggested she should write them down. I was about to recommend to Tracy that we should let her go and find someone else, and Rhonda begged me for another chance. She then suggested an alternative punishment for her misdeeds."

Cassandra was taking notes, but she stared at me as if hanging on every word.

"Just a few months before she began here, Rhonda was at a school where she was subject to corporal punishment. If she arrived late or forgot her assignments, she could be bent over her teacher's lap for a good dose of the slipper. She was also subject to spankings at home." I paused, reflecting. "Actually, from what she's said about the subject, I'm fairly certain she still is."

I was rewarded with another blush, and it took a few seconds before Cassandra could respond. "These punishments… how did they happen? How did you… discipline her? Please be as detailed as you possibly can."

I was a little surprised at this request, but I complied as best as I could. "We would wait until the end of the workday, when I knew we wouldn't be disturbed. We went down into the workshop, where I scolded her for whatever she'd done – or had failed to do. I sat down in one of the old armless office chairs and patted my thigh, which was the signal for her to place herself over my knee."

"How was she attired?" Cassandra asked, leaning forward to make sure she caught every syllable. "Did you pull her panties down?"

" I would lower her jeans before beginning to spank her – as well as her panties," I admitted.

"Did you do that before or after she went over your knee?"

I paused. Why would she ask that? Why would it matter? "I bared her bottom once she was already over my knee."

"Oh," Cassandra muttered. Was it my imagination, or did she look disappointed?

"I spanked her for about fifteen or twenty minutes with my hand – starting off slowly, then gradually smacking harder and faster. She squirmed and squealed over my lap, promising to behave, but I did not let that deter me. When she sounded sufficiently sorry, I placed her in the corner with her hands on her head for another fifteen minutes. Then, she was allowed to get dressed, and I hugged her and told her she was forgiven." I shrugged. "She never resented me for her spankings – in fact, she seemed to view me more favourably. And they definitely had an effect for a few weeks – sometimes longer."

Cassandra stared at me, and there was a strange light in her eyes. "Did you ever spank her with anything else – like your belt, for instance?"

I frowned. "No, just my hand. I never felt I needed anything else."

"Oh." Again that strange hint of disappointment. "Did you ever pull her hair, or drag her to the corner by the ear?"

I was beginning to get the feeling that she was not thinking about her report any longer. These questions seemed to come from another part of her – possibly a more prurient one. "No. She was always very compliant when I decided she needed to be disciplined."

She made another note. "You mentioned scolding her. What did you say to her, and how?"

Another strange question. "Hm. I guess I said, 'You've been a very naughty girl, and it's –"

She cut me off. "Brett, I am absolutely sure you did not say it in that soft, gentle tone of voice. You were much stricter than that, surely? Please, pretend that she's here and needs to be disciplined, and scold her properly. I need to hear your exact words."

I raised an eyebrow, but I did as she said and found the stern tone I used during the punishment sessions. "You have been a very naughty girl, and it's time for a good, hard spanking. Bend over my knee right now."

From the way that Cassandra bit her lip, the far-away look in her eyes, and the quiet sigh she couldn't disguise, I was now absolutely sure that she was not asking these questions for innocent reasons. She was a little too interested in the subject to be thinking about her job right now.

Well, if that was what she wanted, I was willing to oblige her. I leaned forward. "You know, if you're so curious about the spankings I deliver, I'd be quite willing to give you a personal demonstration, Cassandra."

Cassandra turned pale. A squeak escaped her lips, and she dropped her pen to the floor. She hurriedly picked it back up, managing to bang her head on her own desk in the process. She stared down at the sheet of paper again, pretending to take notes. "I-I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean, Brett," she said, trying to hide the blush on her face. "N-not at all."

I smiled. It seemed I had got a little too close for her comfort. "You're sure about that?"

"Y-yes. Now, please leave while I finish this report."

I remained seated, watching her bend over the report as she pretended to ignore my presence. After a minute or so, I spoke up. "You know, it'll probably be a lot easier to write your report if you turn the pen and write with the other end."

She stared at the pen in her hand, before quickly flipping it around. It was absolutely adorable watching the calm, collected woman be so flustered. I rose to my feet, grabbing an empty sheet of paper from her desk. "I'll be going back to work now, but I'll be back when the workday ends." I handed her the paper. "If you write me a request for a good, hard spanking, I promise to do my best to fulfil it." I smiled. "You remember which end of the pen to use?"

I chuckled as I left the room, leaving the stammering woman to continue her report. Or perhaps she’d be writing something else…

At the end of the day, as the last stragglers left the building, I returned to Cassandra's office. A blush appeared in her cheeks when she saw me. Without a word, she picked up a sheet of paper and held it out in my direction, while avoiding my gaze. I took it and began to read.

The note told me that she was a very bad girl, and that she'd slacked off at work far too often. She asked me to give her a good, hard spanking on the bare bottom, until she was pleading for mercy and truly sorry for what she'd done. I smiled; there was no doubt that I'd guessed what was going on in her dirty little mind.

I placed it back on the desk. "Sign it," I instructed. She obeyed, and I folded the paper and placed it in my pocket. I didn't think this evening would have any fallout, but just in case, a signed request might be useful. I always believed in covering your rear at work – especially when you were about to uncover someone else's.

"On your feet," I instructed. When she obeyed, I sat down in her chair and gave her a stern look. She stood before me fidgeting, like a schoolgirl sent to the principal. A far cry from the confident woman who could usually be found in this office.

"You've been very, very naughty, Cassie. Neglecting your work, putting off important tasks – too distracted by dirty thoughts, I shouldn't wonder." She glanced away, and I had a feeling that I was closer to the mark than she was comfortable with. "Well, that ends now. You’re a bad girl, Cassie. You know that?" She nodded. "And what do bad girls get?"

She blushed, avoiding my gaze. "They get punished, sir." She’d obviously never called me 'sir' before, and I enjoyed hearing the word from Cassandra's lips.

"How do they get punished, Cassie?" I found I quite liked teasing her. She blushed absolutely adorably.

She fidgeted even more. "They get sp-spanked, sir," she mumbled. It seemed the word embarrassed her greatly.

"Speak up, girl. I couldn't hear you. What happens to naughty girls?"

"They get spanked, sir," she said, blushing even more.

"That's correct. And how do they get spanked?"

"G-good and h-hard…" she absentmindedly rubbed the seat of her trousers. "O-on their bare bottoms, sir."

"Excellent, Cassie. And that's exactly what's going to happen to you." I let it sink in for a few seconds, before reaching out and beginning to unbutton her trousers. Based on the comments she'd made during her interrogation of me, I guessed that she liked the idea of being undressed before being placed over the knee – and I was not planning on disappointing her.

Cassandra wore a pair of expensive designer trousers that looked lovely stretched tightly over her shapely rear end, but I had a feeling that they would look even better pooled around her ankles. As I unzipped them and lowered them, I found my supposition correct.

She was also wearing a pair of delicate black silk panties. I gently grasped the waistband, slowly pulling them down to join her trousers at her ankles. She buried her face in her hands, too embarrassed to look at me as I undressed her. I was not surprised to find her pubic hair neatly trimmed.

"Don't just stand there showing yourself off," I scolded as I patted my thigh. "Over my knee, Cassie."

She hurriedly obeyed, placing herself over my lap. With her head down and her bottom raised, she presented a most enjoyable sight. I placed my hand on her bare bottom, gently rubbing her curves.

I had spanked Rhonda many times, and I had never derived an ounce of pleasure from it; it was just an unpleasant chore to be completed. However, Rhonda was a teenager who was being spanked as punishment. Cassandra was a grown woman – a very good-looking one – who seemingly wanted nothing more than to bend over my knee and be spanked. I was surprised by how appealing I found the prospect.

I caressed her cheeks, before suddenly lifting my hand and delivering a sharp smack. Cassandra let out a surprised gasp, followed by a yelp when my palm continued to slap down on her soft bottom. "Oh, that stings," she muttered.

"That's the idea, girl," I scolded as I continued to warm her bottom. My hand moved from cheek to cheek, delivering smacks that were quick, but somewhat gentle– I wanted to warm her up before the real punishment began.

As I spanked her, I was surprised at how much she shifted over my lap. Rhonda had taken a lot more without complaining, and you might expect a grown woman to be tougher than a teenaged girl. Then again, Rhonda had been spanked quite a lot, both at school and at home, and her bottom was used to the treatment; if I had to guess, I would say that Cassandra hadn't been spanked very often in her life – if at all.

"Ow!" she exclaimed when my hand firmly struck her sit spots. She kicked her legs, and I knew she'd feel the sting the next time she tried to sit down.

When her bottom had begun to turn pink, I stopped the spanking. This was less than half than the number of smacks I would have given the errant teenager, but like I said, Cassandra had a much lower pain threshold – or at least, her backside did. And besides, I wasn't done. I wanted to sate another of Cassandra's curiosities.

When she heard me start to undo my belt, Cassandra gasped. "Sir! Please…" She left the rest unsaid, and I idly wondered she was asking me to stop or continue. Either way, I wasn't going to stop until her backside had finally felt the touch of leather.

I slowly pulled the belt from the loops. A whimper escaped her lips, and I could see her bare bottom quiver over my lap, goosebumps forming from the anticipation. I doubled the belt over, tapping it against her trembling rear. Her cheeks clenched and unclenched, preparing for the first blow. I did not leave her waiting long.

I raised the belt, lashing it down on her pink cheeks. She squealed, unprepared for the sting of the leather striking her unprotected flesh. I continued to thrash her, watching her squirm and squeal with every strike.

The loud smack of the belt rang out in the quiet room, accompanied by her howls and sobs. Tears were now rolling down her cheeks, and she was squirming so much I had to hold her down with my left hand while the right swung the belt repeatedly against her wriggling rear. Every slap brought another red mark, and from her pleas and protests, it was just as painful as it looked.

By the time I dropped the belt, her bottom was bright red and throbbing. With her tear-stained face, she looked every inch the well-spanked little girl.

I helped her to her feet. Grabbing her earlobe, I dragged her over to the nearest corner, and she squealed with every step. "Face the corner with your hands on your head," I told her. She immediately obeyed. "You will stay here until I tell you otherwise. If you turn your head, move your hands, or speak without being spoken to, I will pick up my belt and give you another twenty lashes. Is that clear, young lady?"

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice hoarse from crying. Then, she mumbled "Thank you, Brett."

I chuckled, giving her bottom a gentle pat – though it still left her wincing. "No talking in the corner, young lady."

I returned to the chair, grinning as I watched the red-bottomed woman sniffling in the corner. As I enjoyed the view, I was curious to know what her report would look like; I had a feeling that there were quite a few details she'd leave out.