He had a cheek referring to me as young lady, however I was in no position to give him a lecture on etiquette.
'I have decided that your poor buttocks have had enough punishment for one day.'
'Yes sir, they are definitely very tender'
'Therefore your final punishment will be on your upper thighs.'
'Yes sir' I responded apprehensively. I had not been spanked on my thighs, but I imagined it would not be pleasant.
'Now roll over onto your back'
'My back, sir?' I questioned, confused.
'Yes your back girl. You do know your back from your front I trust.' My boss sounded impatient. I was confused and embarrassed by my silly question. I rolled over onto my back
'Lift your legs in the air and grip the back of your knees with your hands'
I could not believe what he was asking of me. To expect me to expose myself in such a manner. My sense of the ultimate humiliation had been redefined for me several times in recent weeks, and had just happened again for the second time today.
But I didn't refuse. I didn't protest. Instead I lifted my legs into the air and gripped my knees with my hands as instructed.
'Legs straight, toes pointed.'
Why do people like to give out instructions that only serve to increase one's discomfort and humiliation? Perhaps I have answered my own question.
Geoff brought the riding crop down on my thighs, just above my buttocks. It certainly stung and I struggled to hold my position. The second and third blows were higher up my upturned thighs. The fourth blow struck the crease between my buttocks and thighs and I couldn't help but let my legs go, so intense was the pain. As my legs sprung forward I connected with Geoff's groin. Fortunately I did no damage, but was very embarrassed.
'That has earned you one extra spank. Now get back into position'
I hastily obeyed, disappointed with myself for not fully taking my punishment. Geoff gave me two further painful blows with the riding crop, and my legs began to shake.
'Hold yourself steady. Legs straight. Point those toes. You have your one last extra spank for not taking your punishment properly'
I struggled to obey. I was drained of energy and my buttocks and thighs ached. With dogged determination I held my legs up straight so my thighs were fully exposed to him. When the final blow connected it was the most powerful, and I let out a long, low groan of pain. But I held my position, wanting to prove I could take it.
'You have done well Kym.' It was Jane speaking to me, her tone now friendly and supportive. 'You can get up and get dressed.'
'Yes Ma'am' I staggered to my feet, feeling like I had been run over by a bus.
'Don't be late back to work' Geoff smirked at me, given me an exaggerated wink.
'No sir'
Part 6
My concerns that life would never be the same following my spanking session with my boss, Geoff, and my Parents in Law, Jane and Ben, were both right and wrong.
My work environment has continued on largely unchanged. Geoff has never mentioned the luncheon punishment at my Parents in Law's house. He has largely treated me as he did prior to the incident. Although sometimes I catch him staring at me through his office window with a small smile on his face. I am probably wrong, but I always imagine he is reliving the spanking incident, and is picturing my nude, exposed body receiving the riding crop on my buttocks or thighs. It sends a shiver up my spine and I cannot help blushing.
I have made a determined effort not to change my behaviour towards my boss, but in reality this has proven very difficult to achieve. When your boss has witnessed you in such an intimate, exposed manner, and had the opportunity to punish you severely, your attitude towards them cannot help but be altered. Right or wrong, it is the reality. Trust me on this.
There is no doubt I am more subservient towards Geoff. Not to the extreme that I am like a slave to him in the workplace, or even run around trying to please him all the time. But I do no longer view him with contempt and openly try to put him down. And when he does ask me to do something I try extra hard to achieve it, and enjoy receiving his positive feedback. Perhaps it is an indication that not only has my attitude to Geoff changed, but also perhaps my whole personality has undergone a change. Am I becoming a better person? A better wife? A better Daughter in Law?
Many weeks have passed since the luncheon incident with my boss, Geoff. However every single week I have been 'invited' to my Parents in Law's house at least once, sometimes twice. Mostly my 'invitations' are to drop in after work on my way home. If Geoff is away on business I am invited over for dinner, and these are always the most intense, drawn out punishment sessions.
On two occasions my Parents in Law have invited me over for lunch. On these occasions I need to ask for an extended lunch break from my boss. I always blush when I ask him if it is all right if I am back 30 minutes late from lunch as I have to visit my Parents in Law. Geoff readily agrees, with a knowing smile on his face. I get the impression he is hoping he will get a second invitation to join us all for lunch.
When my Parents in Law invite me to drop in after work I do not have a lot of time, as my husband, Michael, generally arrives home around 6.00pm, which gives me an hour to spare. These after-work punish sessions tend to be straight to the point, and devoid of much of the preliminaries.
When I enter my Parents in Law house I briefly greet Jane and Ben before going straight into the lounge and standing in the corner. They have now changed my routine slightly, as I think they feel it adds to the embarrassment for me. I now stand in the corner fully dressed, waiting until they enter the lounge and are seated.
When instructed to do so, I then walk over to them and proceed to undress while they watch my every movement. I am no longer extended the courtesy of being able to remove my clothing in relative privacy. As I take off each item of clothing I pass it to Jane who carefully folds it and places it on the coffee table beside her. When she has completed the task she reaches out her hand towards me, which is my cue to remove the next item of clothing and hand it to her. Once I forgot to wait until she had put her hand out, and received an extra dose of spanking.
The most embarrassing part is always when I remove my panties. Not because it exposes my shaven genitalia to them, but because there is always a damp spot in the crotch of my panties, resulting from the sexual excitement caused by the anticipation of my upcoming humiliation and spanking. I have tried changing my panties just before I leave work to drive to my Parents in Law, but despite the fact that it is only a 15-minute drive I still have secretion on my panties when I arrive.
When I hand my panties to Jane she always goes through a little ritual of opening them up so she has got a clear view of the crotch. She views the wetness, and shakes her head disapprovingly. This always causes my lower lip to pout, and I am genuinely ashamed of myself.
To make matters worse she then passes them over to Ben who repeats the routine. He then likes to make me even more mortified by lifting my panties up to his nose and inhaling my aroma.
Once they have completed the panties routine, and I am totally naked, I must assume my lurid 'position'. I place my hands on my head, push my elbows back, and thrust my perky little breasts forward. Then I open my legs wide and wait. They then take the time to inspect my pubic area to ensure I am freshly shaven. If they feel the stubble is too long it is reason for additional punishment.
Initially it was always only Jane who inspected my pubic region, but now she shares the task with Ben. The whole process is torturingly humiliating, but is more so when it is Ben touching my genital area. Especially as it is evident through the bulge in his trousers that he is erect. Although the purpose for touching my pubes is supposedly to check that I am freshly shaven, both Jane and Ben always manage to 'accidentally' rub the back of their hand, or a finger, against my swollen lips and clitoris. On such occasions I struggle to stop myself from pushing my hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of their touch.