Working 9 to 5

Mr. Hart was in fact thinking that she was making a very good first impression, looking back with a distraught, frightened expression, pleading for understanding and sympathy through her large round glasses, her taught bottom still poking up high in the air behind her. She might not be a particularly competent secretary, but she clearly had awfully cute, perky buttocks.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Hart, it's going too fast!"

He walked over to the machine and turned it off. The last of the papers drifted to the floor. Apparently, she didn't know how to turn it off. "Too fast? Well, why didn't you just shut it off right here?"

She got up off the floor as quickly as she could, which was a bit difficult as her skirt was so tight along her buttocks and thighs. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hart, I thought I could keep up."

"We're you checked out on this machine?"

Miss Bernly was so nervous. Was she about to lose her job on the first day? Even if she didn't, she clearly had made a very, very poor impression. She deferentially looked down, her body language conveying a submissive contriteness. "I was. Yes. I know what to do now." She tried to reassure him, but her flustered confusion was not convincing.

"Well, I'm not so sure. I tell you what, clean this mess up and then see me in my office."

"Yes, yes sir, immediately, sir."

Mr. Hart left the room as Miss Bernly apprehensively clasped her hands in front of her, wondering what she could do to make up for this.

She did quickly clean up the mess, although she wasn't quite sure what to do with all of the copies that were now out of any sensible or meaningful order. Mixed in with the budget report were even pages from other memos that had spilled out of the waste basket that she had knocked over while trying to grab the flying pages shooting out of the machine (when she had earlier tried to turn it off, she had mistakenly hit the high speed button). She glanced at the papers and saw that they had no pagination. She didn't know what to do. So, she piled them all up into one disheveled heap and took off for Mr. Hart's office.

When she arrived, the door was closed and his receptionist, Doralee, was not to be seen. She felt that she again had another tough decision. She timidly knocked on his door.

"Yes?" his impatient voice could be heard inside.

"Oh my," she quietly murmured and timorously opened the door. She peeked around and said, "It's me, Mr. Hart, Miss Bernly? You wanted to see me right away?"

Mr. Hart was impressed at how pretty she was. She had wavy reddish brown hair, large fluttering eyelashes, a perky nose, and sweet pink lips. She reminded him of this really attractive movie star he once saw. He thought the movie was Barefoot in the Park, or perhaps Hurry Sundown? He wasn't sure. The resemblance was uncanny, although Miss Bernly looked so much more "schoolmarmish" than Jane Fonda with her quite large round glasses and prim, conservative suit.

He waved her in. "Yes, c'min,"

She timidly entered his office and turned to shut the door. Mr. Hart's eyes went again to her taught, round bottom that was so nicely displayed by her tight fitting skirt. 'Man, she is firm,' he thought. She quietly, carefully, shut the door.

"Be sure to lock it," he instructed her.

She looked back at him, confused by this instruction Why should the door be locked?

Mr. Hart frowned. Not surprisingly, Ms. Newstead had not explained this common courtesy of Consolidated Companies. He quickly provided an explanation.

"I believe we do need to talk, Miss Bernly, and it's best we're not disturbed."

That certainly did not sound good, but she had been expecting the worst. She had been hoping so much that she would be able to get this job, but she knew that it should not be surprising if it was not going to work out. It had been years since she was last gainfully employed, having been a housewife for the years of her marriage. She got married right out of high school and had never developed skills or training that would propel her toward any particular career. She was even marginal as a secretary, exaggerating her typing, word processing, and stenography skills in her application. However, she had at least hoped that she would last more than one day!

Perhaps if she was sufficiently apologetic she might be given another chance? She stood in front of his desk, grasping the loose and disheveled stack of colored paper against her blouse. They looked on the verge of again spilling to the floor. "I am really sorry, Mr. Hart. I wasn't familiar with that particular model of copier. I swear it won't happen again."

Mr. Hart leaned back in his cushioned desk chair, his fingers playing with a rather ostentatious pen. "I imagine it won't, Miss Bernly. Frankly, I suspect that we will need to take someone else away from their duties to provide you with sufficient training before you can be returned to the copier."

"Oh no, no, Mr. Hart, that won't be necessary. I can pick it up myself."

Mr. Hart shifted forward in his chair and opened a folder. It was her personnel file, which at this point consisted only of her application. "It says here, Miss Bernly, that you indicated you were entirely familiar with the P300 copying system."

Miss Bernly was caught in her lie. Her heart pounded. This was not going well, but there would be nothing to gain from admitting to inadequate skills. "I am sir, it's, um, it's just been quite a bit of time since I last used one, and I wasn't familiar with all of its new features."

Mr. Hart pushed his chair away from the desk, stood up, and moved around to stand by the side of his desk. Miss Bernly followed his movements with her eyes, swallowing in apprehension over where this might lead. The sweet scent of her fragrant perfume tickled his nose. She seemed to be a bewitching, enticing experience to all of the senses. "I am sorry, Miss Bernly, but I am uncertain that this is the right employment for you, at least at this point of time in your life."

This was what she had feared. She looked imploringly at Mr. Hart. "Oh no, sir, really, I can do it. I know I can. Please, give me another chance, sir."

"No, no, I'm afraid Miss Bernly that this just wouldn't be fair to the other girls. I can't allow you to continue to maintain an employment at a standard below that which is expected of the other gals."

Miss Bernly could feel her heart racing with anxiety.

Mr. Hart placed a hand to his chin and strolled to the center of the room, deep in thought. As he turned back, Miss Bernly was looking plaintively at him over her shoulder. He liked a woman who wore heels. It was so nice how they helped to perk up the shape of the fanny. A sliver of a chance was provided to her. "I would be willing to provide you with another opportunity, provided."

Miss Bernly could feel a wave of relief sweep over her. Her shoulders visibly relaxed with this stroke of good luck. She had thought for sure that it would be over for her. She had applied to so many places; never with any success. She didn't know what she would do if she lost this job, and on the first day at that. "Provided?" she asked. She knew she would do anything he asked.

"Well, Miss Bernly, we do have a remedial plan at Consolidated Companies Incorporated to help compensate for various employee shortcomings. We do not want to just dismiss someone who is lacking in the requisite skills yet displays a motivation to better, to improve, herself. It is a motivational program that we have found to be very effective in further encouraging the advancement of our younger staff, as well as compensating those who are more able to carry their weight without any need of special consideration."

Miss Bernly was a bit confused as to what he was talking about, but she was certainly willing to enroll in any remedial program he might suggest. Anything was better than actually losing her job. "Oh sir, yes, I will be most happy to participate. In fact, I am grateful for the opportunity. How do I enroll?"

"Oh, we can begin right here, right now, if you wish."

Miss Bernly was surprised that Mr. Hart would be personally involved in helping staff with remedial training. After all, as Vice President, he must have so many more responsibilities and demands on his time. She felt so fortunate to be assigned to his section. Working closely with Mr. Hart could in fact be an excellent opportunity for her. She had known that the employee benefit package at Consolidated was impressive, but she had no idea that management would be so considerate and supportive. "Oh, Mr. Hart, yes, let's do," she exclaimed, with considerable enthusiasm.

"Alright then, well, why don't you place those papers on my desk."

"Certainly sir." Miss Bernly though hesitated, not sure precisely where. She carefully laid them down on his otherwise clean, empty blotter. She leaned over the desk further to try to arrange them into a more neat and tidy stack. Her business skirt stretched tightly across her charming bottom, as well as rising up her calves.

"In fact, Miss Bernly, I believe that you are in the correct position for your first lesson." He moved up to stand behind her to the left, her delicious perfume drifting sweetly into his nostrils.

Miss Bernly furrowed her brow. "I am, sir?" she asked quizzically.

"Certainly, yes, Miss Bernly. Company policy, as specified in the training manual, I'm sure you are familiar with the requisite document, requires that the staff, and that does certainly mean all of the staff, accept being disciplined for errors committed."

"Disciplined, sir?"

"Certainly, Miss Bernly. Many of the more successful secretaries have been disciplined. I have my own particular method for doing so, but it is one that I believe can be especially effective. It has proven to be an outstanding motivator, as well as a means for sharpening attention and boosting morale."

Miss Bernly stayed in her beguiling position, as instructed, her elbows resting on the desk, her bottom poking out behind her. She looked back at Mr. Hart, a doubtful, apprehensive expression on her face. "Sir, are you thinking, are you, um, you're not." She had a difficult time articulating her thought, in part because she really couldn't believe she was understanding this correctly, but she knew darn well what was implied by her submissive posture. "Does this discipline involve, like, some sort of," she blushed and said quietly, "spanking?"

"Yes, of course, Miss Bernly, that is precisely what it involves. Do you have any difficulty with that?"

She turned her head back towards Mr. Hart, although maintaining her receptive pose bent over his desk. She did not want to reject the opportunity that was being provided to her, but she had a hard time believing that this was company policy. Although, it was certainly true that she had been out of the corporate world for quite some time. In fact, she had never even been in it. "Is this really necessary sir? I mean, I haven't been spanked since I was a little girl."

"You're husband never spanked you?" Her large eyes widened even further in surprise at such a question. She had such pretty eyes. "Goodness gracious, sir, certainly not!"

Mr. Hart wondered if that had been perhaps part of the problem for her marriage. However, he did not want to overstep his authority and comment on her personal life. The professional boundaries of the office should be maintained. "Well, your relationship with your ex-husband is certainly your own private business, Miss Bernly, but many of us at Consolidated have recognized the tremendous benefits of corporeal pedagogy for employee training."

Miss Bernly turned her head away from Mr. Hart. She stared out the large window behind his desk as she contemplated her situation.

Mr. Hart could see her ambivalence, along with the sweet curves of her fanny. Her apprehension was understandable. "I appreciate your concerns, Miss Bernly. Not all of the secretaries have the discipline or motivation needed to advance through this program."

Miss Bernly, though, was not about to let an opportunity slip through her fingers. She said quietly, but as firmly as she could. "I will do it, Mr. Hart."

"And, what would you like me to do?" He wanted to be sure that she was making this decision willingly and voluntarily.

She did her best to sound firm and committed, but her doubts were evident in the shakiness of her voice. "I want you to spank me, sir."

"Good, Miss Bernly. You will see that you have made an excellent career decision."

"The other secretaries won't have to know about this, will they?" It did seem awfully demeaning, even humiliating, to be spanked at work.

"Absolutely not, Miss Bernly. I will certainly respect your privacy in this manner. I do understand that some can find this experience to be a little disconcerting."

"Sir, if I may, it's humiliating! For goodness sake, I'm a grown woman."

"Well, then I'm sure you can appreciate the importance of adequate discipline." Mr. Hart moved over so that he was standing right behind her behind. He paused to admire the taut curves of her rump that were so seductively presented through her tight, violet business skirt. She was so delectably round. He bent his knees to grip the hem of her skirt. He said matter-of-factly, "Let's raise this skirt now and get to work."

Miss Bernly's head rose up from the desk, her face awash with shock. "My skirt?! Must my skirt be raised?!"

Mr. Hart paused in his work. "Why yes, of course, Miss Bernly." He sounded surprised that she was apparently surprised. "It's only natural for the skirt to be raised for a spanking."

"Oh but sir." She had to at least voice some concern about this. "You will see my, um, my uh, undies." She did not understand why he did not seem to understand why this would trouble her.

"Miss Bernly, are you concerned about the appearance of your panties?" Before she could answer he spoke further. "I can't believe that your mother did not impress upon you the importance of always wearing a nice pair of clean, attractive panties. You can never tell when you might have to show them to someone."

Her mother had indeed said, more than one time, that you will never know when an unfortunate accident may result in the exposure of your underwear. Her loss of control of the copying machine was not the accident her mother had in mind, but the end result was clearly the same. "Yes sir," she whispered.

She did though feel some relief, in an odd sort of way, that she had decided to wear one of her better panties. Because it was her first day on the job, she had worn one of her better panties, a lacy, violet (naturally) boy short panties that stretched delectably across her curved cheeks. She had always found that wearing her best, even if they would not be seen, made her feel her best, and she did want to feel her best on the first day of her job.

"Oh my," was all Miss Bernly could say as she felt his hands again grasp her skirt and slip. She covered her face as her skirt and slip slowly, slowly, rose up, past her thighs, and up, up, over, her captivating bottom.

Once he had the skirt and slip secured above her rump, Mr. Hart paused to admire the pretty picture she provided. "Miss Bernly, I must say that I approve of your choice of undergarment." Although still a bit tired from his earlier work with Doralee, his cock swelled at the sight. Miss Bernly did have quite attractively curved legs, accentuated by thigh high nylons. However, Mr. Hart's admiration was directed largely at Miss Bernly's firm apple cheeks. He thought it would be a real shame; no actually, a sweet pleasure, to give them a little spanking.

Miss Bernly was flustered by his compliment. It was always flattering to receive a compliment of your supervisor, and it was certainly very relieving to finally hear Mr. Hart say something nice about her, but she hadn't really been expecting it to be with respect to her panties. "Uh, well, thank you sir."

"Yes, I think your mother would be very proud of you."

Miss Bernly wondered what her mother would in fact think if she saw her now.

Mr. Hart's eyes gazed at the soft lace pouch of lace-covered flesh poking out from between her thighs. He squeezed his budding erection through his slacks. "I think it would be best if you moved your legs up closer to the desk, and raised your bottom up a bit higher. It's rather low for a proper spanking."

"Yes sir," Miss Bernly reluctantly complied. It was difficult for her not to feel that raising her bottom up had a sexual connotation, but she did appreciate that she should not make her punishment uncomfortable for Mr. Hart. She moved up closer to the desk, straightened her legs, arched her back, and raised up her bottom.

Mr. Hart's cock grew quite hard. It was so nice when a secretary displayed herself this way. It was such a submissively enticing presentation. He moved over to her left. "You might want to grip the edge of the desk, Miss Bernly."

"Oh yes, thank you sir." Miss Bernly appreciated the warning.

But, it didn't help. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Three hard smacks rang down in quick succession. "Yikes!" Miss Bernly squealed. She couldn't help but squirm, twist, and gyrate her little bottom. It was just three smacks but they really stung. "Mr. Hart, must you paddle me so hard?"

It was a little hard. Mr. Hart even had to shake his own hand. He had smacked her a bit harder than he would normally have done, perhaps the enthusiasm at seeing such an attractively curved and clad bottom had been too arousing. "Miss Bernly," he scolded, "If you make so much noise I am afraid that the entire secretarial pool will hear you."

"Oh my!" She hadn't thought about that. "I'm so sorry, sir. But, goodness, my bottom stings so bad." She wanted to reach back and rub it, but she worried this might be a bit provocative.

"Well, if you like, Miss Bernly, I can soften the severity of the spanking."

Miss Bernly turned her head back to face Mr. Hart. "Oh Mr. Hart, I would be so grateful! Yes, could you do so?" She looked so endearing with her large, round glasses and pretty green-blue eyes. She even gave him a grateful smile.

But, the smile quickly disappeared when Mr. Hart explained, "But, if I am to do that, well, we will have to lower the panties."

"Mr. Hart!" Her eyes and mouth opened up wide. "I couldn't imagine doing that, sir. I mean, won't you be able to see, um, like, everything?"

Mr. Hart tried to reassure her. "Miss Bernly, in my role as Vice President, head of the distribution in the midwest and southeast, I have managed quite a few girls through the secretarial pool. Yours will not be the first derriere I have seen." Miss Bernly blushed as he openly spoke of seeing her naked tush. "Let me reassure you, I don't take any personal or licentiousness pleasure in this. It is simply a responsibility I must bear."

Miss Bernly felt guilty at questioning his professionalism. She hoped that she was not undermining her effort to complete her remedial training. "Oh sir, yes, of course, I didn't mean to imply anything like that. If you want to take down my panties, then please do so, sir." However, she had to look away as he did so.

It was fortunate for Mr. Hart that she did look away, as he could not help smiling at just the thought of pulling down her panties. He got into position directly behind her and looped his fingers into the waistband of her tight, lacy panties. He heard Miss Bernly softly squeak at the touch of his fingers inside the elastic, against her soft skin.

He firmly grasped the waistband and slowly pulled down her skin tight panties, revealing inch by inch the smooth white curves of her winsome bottom, split down the center by her delicate, enticing crack. Miss Bernly had one of the finest butts Mr. Hart had ever seen. There was virtually no signs of cellulite, and with her legs pressed so tightly together, the shape was a lovely rounded white heart.