A prequel to Sheriff.
"You wanted to see me, sheriff?" Claire said, poking her head into her boss' office.
"Ah. Yes, I need to talk to you. Come in," Graham responded gruffly. He was a tall, dark-haired middle-aged man who had begun to grow slightly wider as he aged, but there was still a hint of steel both in his body and his gaze.
Claire entered, sitting down on the chair in front of the sheriff's desk. Claire was a short, curvy woman with an infectious grin, and she beamed at her employer, who did not return the smile.
He picked up a piece of paper from his desk. "Now, you've been working here for a month now. How do you think it's going?"
"Great! It's a good job," she said, still smiling. "A lot to do, but I manage to stay on top of things."
"Hm. Yes, I must admit that you do good work – when you show up, that is."
Her smile faded a little. "What do you mean?"
"After one month, there's been three days you were NOT late. THREE." He scowled. "You're usually fifteen minutes late, and at least once, it was more than an hour. I know my deputy has talked to you about this, but it doesn't seem to have helped. We need you to be here in the mornings – you can't just show up when you feel like it."
She pouted, fidgeting slightly. "I'll do better, I promise!"
"Yes, you told Steven that as well. I'm afraid that pretty words aren't enough anymore. I could dock your pay…"
"Oh, please don't!" she begged, her eyes widening in panic.
"…Or I can find an alternative solution." The prospect might have seemed promising, but there was something about his stern voice that made a shiver run down her back. "Tell me, what would your father have done if you were late when you were working at the farm?"
"Well, he certainly wouldn't have been happy!" she exclaimed. She did not feel like volunteering any further details.
"But what would he have done?" he pressed. She blushed, reluctant to answer the question, so he answered it for her. "He would have taken those jeans down and paddled your butt, wouldn't he?"
She blushed even more, squirming in her chair. She didn't want to admit the embarrassing truth, but she didn't think lying to her employer would be a good idea either. "Well… I guess that… No, I'm not…"
"Because back when I dated your sister, all those years ago, she always made sure that she was back home before her curfew – and told me what would happen to her if she was late." He raised an eyebrow. "Your father doesn't seem like the type of man who would treat his daughters differently in that regard."
She stared at him – she hadn't known that Jessie had shared that piece of information about their upbringing with her boyfriend. Claire had never admitted it to any of the boys SHE'D dated. She stared at the floor, sighing. "Yes," she admitted in a whisper. "Yes, he'd have paddled me."
"Oh? Now, as I said, I can dock your pay, OR…" He opened a drawer, placing a small, thick paddle on his desk.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Claire stared at the paddle as if it was a snake ready to strike. Finally, she managed to turn her gaze to the sheriff. "Isn't there another way?" she pleaded.
"I have given you two options: I dock your pay, or I paddle your backside. I'm not giving you a third one." He raised an eyebrow. "I could give you the night to think it over and let you decide tomorrow, but Steven will be back by then, and I don't think you want my deputy to listen in, do you?"
She shivered at the thought. "What… what exactly would happen?" she asked with a slight tremble in her voice.
"You drop your jeans and panties, bend over the desk, and I paddle your backside."
Claire grimaced – a paddling from her boss sounded bad enough, but on the bare? How humiliating! "How many strokes?"
"Until I think you sound really sorry," he replied. "I'm not picking a number – you could be tougher than I suspect, or more sensitive."
She took a deep breath. "I'll take the paddling," she said, rising on trembling legs.
Graham nodded. "As you wish. Take those jeans down," he ordered. She obeyed, starting to unbutton and unzip her figure-hugging jeans, which she eventually managed to wriggle down to her knees. She moved her fingers to the waistband of her black satin panties, then froze, blushing and staring at her feet. He realized how humiliating it would be for her to bare herself while he watched. "You can bend over the desk before pulling them down," he told her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't much, but when you're about to be paddled on the bare by your boss, you're grateful for small mercies.
She leaned over the desk, pushing her bottom out to slip her panties down, then grabbed the other side of the desk and assumed the familiar position that she'd hoped she was too old for. "I'm ready, boss," she told him.
The sheriff picked up the paddle, patting it gently against her trembling cheeks. He drew it back and let it fly, and Claire yelped. She had nurtured a small hope that Graham wouldn't know that he was doing, and that she could fool him with a few exaggerated howls and some crocodile tears, but he could swing that paddle just like her daddy.
He struck hard and fast, paddling her soundly, and she yelped and squealed. All the years vanished in the blink of an eye, and she was once again a naughty little girl who had disobeyed her father. "Not so hard! Please! Ow! I'll be good!"
"Are you going to be on time?" he lectured, continuing to swing the paddle as he spoke. "Will you listen to what Steven and me tell you?"
"Ow! Yes, sir! I promise! Ouch!" She was clenching and unclenching her cheeks and holding on to the edge of the desk for dear life – she didn't want to know what Graham would do if she moved out of position. Would he just give her extras, or start over from the beginning? She hoped she wouldn't have to find out.
The paddle rose and fell, cracking down on her soft cheeks with a noise like a gunshot. Her bountiful cheeks flattened with every stroke, then bounced back just in time to meet the next swing of the paddle. The tears were rolling down her face, dripping down on the desk below her, and she sobbed pitifully.
Finally, after what felt like hours of punishment, he placed the paddle down on the desk. "I hope you can come to work on time from now on. I don't want to do this again," he scolded, before helping her up and hugging her. Her panties and jeans were still around her knees, leaving her effectively naked from the waist down, but she didn't care – when he hugged her, she leaned her head against his chest and sobbed her heart out.
It took about ten or fifteen minutes of gentle soothing before she calmed down. She quickly pulled her panties back up, then stared in dismay at her jeans. She liked the way the tight jeans looked on her butt, but today, she wished she'd worn a skirt. She eased the trousers over her throbbing rear, hissing in pain as the rough fabric clutched her burning bottom.
She returned to her desk, where she intended to spend the rest of the day working while standing up.
Almost an hour later, Claire knocked on his door again. "Graham? Scarlett's here to see you. Do you –"
Before she could continue, the girl had barged past her. Scarlett was a petite young redhead who believed that parking rules were only suggestions, and that she was too cute to get a ticket. Graham, it turned out, disagreed.
"There you are!" she said as soon as she laid eyes on him, placing her hands on her hips and giving him her best glare. "The brute that dared to put a parking ticket on my Chevy."
"Hello, Scarlett," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. The young lady's entitled attitude had always annoyed him. Claire ducked out and closed the door behind her, deciding that her boss could handle this on his own.
"Well, I came here hoping that there could be an alternative arrangement, and that this silly little – " She froze, staring at his desk. It took a few seconds before he realized that he'd forgotten to put the paddle away. "Oh, I see how it is!"
Not sure of what to say, he said nothing – after all, she was speaking enough for the both of them.
She folded her arms in front of her chest. "You pig! You're planning to paddle me, are you? If I bend over your desk, you will delete the fines?"
He was about to correct her mistake, but managed to stop himself just in time. He hadn't intended to extend the same offer to her, but why not? She was definitely a brat, and a sore bottom would probably help her remember where she should and shouldn't be parking. Besides, she had a firm little bottom, barely covered by a tight miniskirt, and he wasn't opposed to seeing it bared. It would look even cuter in red.
She sighed. "Fine. If that's what it takes for you to forget those ridiculous fines…"
"Before making a decision, you should know that I always paddle on the bare bottom," he told her sternly.
She paled. "Being alone naked with a dirty old man like you? No way!"
"I suggest you watch your mouth, young lady," he scolded. "But if you want, I can ask my secretary to come in to watch, and she can make sure nothing inappropriate happens."
She thought about it, then nodded. "Sure, that sounds good."
He called out, and the secretary entered. "Claire, Scarlett is willing to take a bare-bottomed paddling from me in return for having her parking fines forgiven, but she wants you to be here as a witness. Is that OK with you?"
Claire stared at him, her eyes wide. A slight blush spread across her cheeks, and she licked her lips. There was something about the look in her eyes that told Graham that she would quite enjoy watching that.
Scarlett, however, was too dense to notice. "Well, old man? Should we get started?"
"Bare your bottom and bend over the desk," he instructed. Huffing, the young lady obeyed – she flipped up her miniskirt to reveal a small, dark thong, which she then yanked down to her knees. She leaned over the desk, tossing her head disdainfully. "Go on, then."
Graham rose, picking up the paddle. He patted it gently against Scarlett's bare posterior, watching the goosebumps form as she waited for him to begin. He lifted the paddle and gave her a firm stroke, causing her to howl. Scarlett shot to her feet, both hands clasping her bottom. It was clear she was not as used to being paddled as Claire – but then again, her attitude could have told him that. "Bend over the desk," he said sternly.
"But it hurts!" she whined.
"It's supposed to. Bend over," he repeated, and she reluctantly obeyed. He gave her a few more strokes, watching her buns bounce with every crack of the paddle, but she soon shot up again, tears streaming down her face.
"No more! You can't do this! No more!" she snivelled.
"We've just started. Your bottom's barely pink," he told her, before turning to his secretary. "Claire? Could you hold her down?"
Claire grinned, looking as if Christmas had come early, and she eagerly grabbed Scarlett's shoulders and pushed her down. The young woman struggled, but couldn't escape the stronger woman's grasp, and the secretary held her down as Graham lifted the paddle again.
He swung hard and fast, flattening her cheeks with form strokes. He glanced up at Claire, who was smiling blissfully. It was clear that she enjoyed Scarlett's paddling a lot more than her own.
Before long, Scarlett was sobbing and pleading for mercy – which was the first time he'd heard the word 'please' pass her lips. She flailed her legs, her panties long since having been kicked off into a corner. She was trying to wriggle free, but Claire held her firmly, the secretary's eyes begging him to spank harder.
By the time he put the paddle down, Scarlett was lying limply across the desk, sobbing pitifully. He helped her up, hugging her just like how he had comforted Claire. "Will you behave, young lady?"
"Yes, sir!" Another word he'd never heard her use.
"Will you be parking illegally again?"
"No, sir! I promise!"
"And what do you think will happen if you do?" he said, drying her tears gently.
"I'll… I'll get another paddling?" she said nervously, dreading the answer.
"That's right. So make sure you don't do that."
After pulling her skirt down and fetching her lost panties, which she placed in her handbag so she wouldn't have to put them on, the repentant young lady left the sheriff's office, gingerly rubbing her burning butt with a contrite expression, and Graham glanced at his secretary. "I saw your face. You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
She scoffed. "Are you trying to tell me you didn't?" When he didn't answer, she grinned smugly. "Thought as much." She hesitated briefly, before continuing: " I'm sure there are some other naughty young ladies in this town that would take a paddling to avoid fines or jail time. If you ever need a witness, I'd like to volunteer my services …"
He chuckled, before nodding. "That sounds acceptable. Just know that if you come in late, or mess up in other ways, your own butt is on the line as well." He patted the paddle meaningfully against his palm.
She shivered, and both hands reached back to clasp her bottom protectively. "Can't say I'm happy about that, but I guess it's worth it," she said ruefully.
"Ah. Yes, I need to talk to you. Come in," Graham responded gruffly. He was a tall, dark-haired middle-aged man who had begun to grow slightly wider as he aged, but there was still a hint of steel both in his body and his gaze.
Claire entered, sitting down on the chair in front of the sheriff's desk. Claire was a short, curvy woman with an infectious grin, and she beamed at her employer, who did not return the smile.
He picked up a piece of paper from his desk. "Now, you've been working here for a month now. How do you think it's going?"
"Great! It's a good job," she said, still smiling. "A lot to do, but I manage to stay on top of things."
"Hm. Yes, I must admit that you do good work – when you show up, that is."
Her smile faded a little. "What do you mean?"
"After one month, there's been three days you were NOT late. THREE." He scowled. "You're usually fifteen minutes late, and at least once, it was more than an hour. I know my deputy has talked to you about this, but it doesn't seem to have helped. We need you to be here in the mornings – you can't just show up when you feel like it."
She pouted, fidgeting slightly. "I'll do better, I promise!"
"Yes, you told Steven that as well. I'm afraid that pretty words aren't enough anymore. I could dock your pay…"
"Oh, please don't!" she begged, her eyes widening in panic.
"…Or I can find an alternative solution." The prospect might have seemed promising, but there was something about his stern voice that made a shiver run down her back. "Tell me, what would your father have done if you were late when you were working at the farm?"
"Well, he certainly wouldn't have been happy!" she exclaimed. She did not feel like volunteering any further details.
"But what would he have done?" he pressed. She blushed, reluctant to answer the question, so he answered it for her. "He would have taken those jeans down and paddled your butt, wouldn't he?"
She blushed even more, squirming in her chair. She didn't want to admit the embarrassing truth, but she didn't think lying to her employer would be a good idea either. "Well… I guess that… No, I'm not…"
"Because back when I dated your sister, all those years ago, she always made sure that she was back home before her curfew – and told me what would happen to her if she was late." He raised an eyebrow. "Your father doesn't seem like the type of man who would treat his daughters differently in that regard."
She stared at him – she hadn't known that Jessie had shared that piece of information about their upbringing with her boyfriend. Claire had never admitted it to any of the boys SHE'D dated. She stared at the floor, sighing. "Yes," she admitted in a whisper. "Yes, he'd have paddled me."
"Oh? Now, as I said, I can dock your pay, OR…" He opened a drawer, placing a small, thick paddle on his desk.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Claire stared at the paddle as if it was a snake ready to strike. Finally, she managed to turn her gaze to the sheriff. "Isn't there another way?" she pleaded.
"I have given you two options: I dock your pay, or I paddle your backside. I'm not giving you a third one." He raised an eyebrow. "I could give you the night to think it over and let you decide tomorrow, but Steven will be back by then, and I don't think you want my deputy to listen in, do you?"
She shivered at the thought. "What… what exactly would happen?" she asked with a slight tremble in her voice.
"You drop your jeans and panties, bend over the desk, and I paddle your backside."
Claire grimaced – a paddling from her boss sounded bad enough, but on the bare? How humiliating! "How many strokes?"
"Until I think you sound really sorry," he replied. "I'm not picking a number – you could be tougher than I suspect, or more sensitive."
She took a deep breath. "I'll take the paddling," she said, rising on trembling legs.
Graham nodded. "As you wish. Take those jeans down," he ordered. She obeyed, starting to unbutton and unzip her figure-hugging jeans, which she eventually managed to wriggle down to her knees. She moved her fingers to the waistband of her black satin panties, then froze, blushing and staring at her feet. He realized how humiliating it would be for her to bare herself while he watched. "You can bend over the desk before pulling them down," he told her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't much, but when you're about to be paddled on the bare by your boss, you're grateful for small mercies.
She leaned over the desk, pushing her bottom out to slip her panties down, then grabbed the other side of the desk and assumed the familiar position that she'd hoped she was too old for. "I'm ready, boss," she told him.
The sheriff picked up the paddle, patting it gently against her trembling cheeks. He drew it back and let it fly, and Claire yelped. She had nurtured a small hope that Graham wouldn't know that he was doing, and that she could fool him with a few exaggerated howls and some crocodile tears, but he could swing that paddle just like her daddy.
He struck hard and fast, paddling her soundly, and she yelped and squealed. All the years vanished in the blink of an eye, and she was once again a naughty little girl who had disobeyed her father. "Not so hard! Please! Ow! I'll be good!"
"Are you going to be on time?" he lectured, continuing to swing the paddle as he spoke. "Will you listen to what Steven and me tell you?"
"Ow! Yes, sir! I promise! Ouch!" She was clenching and unclenching her cheeks and holding on to the edge of the desk for dear life – she didn't want to know what Graham would do if she moved out of position. Would he just give her extras, or start over from the beginning? She hoped she wouldn't have to find out.
The paddle rose and fell, cracking down on her soft cheeks with a noise like a gunshot. Her bountiful cheeks flattened with every stroke, then bounced back just in time to meet the next swing of the paddle. The tears were rolling down her face, dripping down on the desk below her, and she sobbed pitifully.
Finally, after what felt like hours of punishment, he placed the paddle down on the desk. "I hope you can come to work on time from now on. I don't want to do this again," he scolded, before helping her up and hugging her. Her panties and jeans were still around her knees, leaving her effectively naked from the waist down, but she didn't care – when he hugged her, she leaned her head against his chest and sobbed her heart out.
It took about ten or fifteen minutes of gentle soothing before she calmed down. She quickly pulled her panties back up, then stared in dismay at her jeans. She liked the way the tight jeans looked on her butt, but today, she wished she'd worn a skirt. She eased the trousers over her throbbing rear, hissing in pain as the rough fabric clutched her burning bottom.
She returned to her desk, where she intended to spend the rest of the day working while standing up.
Almost an hour later, Claire knocked on his door again. "Graham? Scarlett's here to see you. Do you –"
Before she could continue, the girl had barged past her. Scarlett was a petite young redhead who believed that parking rules were only suggestions, and that she was too cute to get a ticket. Graham, it turned out, disagreed.
"There you are!" she said as soon as she laid eyes on him, placing her hands on her hips and giving him her best glare. "The brute that dared to put a parking ticket on my Chevy."
"Hello, Scarlett," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. The young lady's entitled attitude had always annoyed him. Claire ducked out and closed the door behind her, deciding that her boss could handle this on his own.
"Well, I came here hoping that there could be an alternative arrangement, and that this silly little – " She froze, staring at his desk. It took a few seconds before he realized that he'd forgotten to put the paddle away. "Oh, I see how it is!"
Not sure of what to say, he said nothing – after all, she was speaking enough for the both of them.
She folded her arms in front of her chest. "You pig! You're planning to paddle me, are you? If I bend over your desk, you will delete the fines?"
He was about to correct her mistake, but managed to stop himself just in time. He hadn't intended to extend the same offer to her, but why not? She was definitely a brat, and a sore bottom would probably help her remember where she should and shouldn't be parking. Besides, she had a firm little bottom, barely covered by a tight miniskirt, and he wasn't opposed to seeing it bared. It would look even cuter in red.
She sighed. "Fine. If that's what it takes for you to forget those ridiculous fines…"
"Before making a decision, you should know that I always paddle on the bare bottom," he told her sternly.
She paled. "Being alone naked with a dirty old man like you? No way!"
"I suggest you watch your mouth, young lady," he scolded. "But if you want, I can ask my secretary to come in to watch, and she can make sure nothing inappropriate happens."
She thought about it, then nodded. "Sure, that sounds good."
He called out, and the secretary entered. "Claire, Scarlett is willing to take a bare-bottomed paddling from me in return for having her parking fines forgiven, but she wants you to be here as a witness. Is that OK with you?"
Claire stared at him, her eyes wide. A slight blush spread across her cheeks, and she licked her lips. There was something about the look in her eyes that told Graham that she would quite enjoy watching that.
Scarlett, however, was too dense to notice. "Well, old man? Should we get started?"
"Bare your bottom and bend over the desk," he instructed. Huffing, the young lady obeyed – she flipped up her miniskirt to reveal a small, dark thong, which she then yanked down to her knees. She leaned over the desk, tossing her head disdainfully. "Go on, then."
Graham rose, picking up the paddle. He patted it gently against Scarlett's bare posterior, watching the goosebumps form as she waited for him to begin. He lifted the paddle and gave her a firm stroke, causing her to howl. Scarlett shot to her feet, both hands clasping her bottom. It was clear she was not as used to being paddled as Claire – but then again, her attitude could have told him that. "Bend over the desk," he said sternly.
"But it hurts!" she whined.
"It's supposed to. Bend over," he repeated, and she reluctantly obeyed. He gave her a few more strokes, watching her buns bounce with every crack of the paddle, but she soon shot up again, tears streaming down her face.
"No more! You can't do this! No more!" she snivelled.
"We've just started. Your bottom's barely pink," he told her, before turning to his secretary. "Claire? Could you hold her down?"
Claire grinned, looking as if Christmas had come early, and she eagerly grabbed Scarlett's shoulders and pushed her down. The young woman struggled, but couldn't escape the stronger woman's grasp, and the secretary held her down as Graham lifted the paddle again.
He swung hard and fast, flattening her cheeks with form strokes. He glanced up at Claire, who was smiling blissfully. It was clear that she enjoyed Scarlett's paddling a lot more than her own.
Before long, Scarlett was sobbing and pleading for mercy – which was the first time he'd heard the word 'please' pass her lips. She flailed her legs, her panties long since having been kicked off into a corner. She was trying to wriggle free, but Claire held her firmly, the secretary's eyes begging him to spank harder.
By the time he put the paddle down, Scarlett was lying limply across the desk, sobbing pitifully. He helped her up, hugging her just like how he had comforted Claire. "Will you behave, young lady?"
"Yes, sir!" Another word he'd never heard her use.
"Will you be parking illegally again?"
"No, sir! I promise!"
"And what do you think will happen if you do?" he said, drying her tears gently.
"I'll… I'll get another paddling?" she said nervously, dreading the answer.
"That's right. So make sure you don't do that."
After pulling her skirt down and fetching her lost panties, which she placed in her handbag so she wouldn't have to put them on, the repentant young lady left the sheriff's office, gingerly rubbing her burning butt with a contrite expression, and Graham glanced at his secretary. "I saw your face. You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
She scoffed. "Are you trying to tell me you didn't?" When he didn't answer, she grinned smugly. "Thought as much." She hesitated briefly, before continuing: " I'm sure there are some other naughty young ladies in this town that would take a paddling to avoid fines or jail time. If you ever need a witness, I'd like to volunteer my services …"
He chuckled, before nodding. "That sounds acceptable. Just know that if you come in late, or mess up in other ways, your own butt is on the line as well." He patted the paddle meaningfully against his palm.
She shivered, and both hands reached back to clasp her bottom protectively. "Can't say I'm happy about that, but I guess it's worth it," she said ruefully.
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