Voluptuous bottom got me caned

There were three vacant offices in our little building. Now there are only two. One has been filled by a company selling baby foods, they don't actually stock or distribute from the office but they have three people working there, including the boss, so they must be busy doing something right. Anyway it is their boss, and I suppose attractive woman in her late twenties, who has what I can only describe as a voluptuous bottom, at least that has been my impression from the few occasions I've seen her. She has always had on jeans, faded and fake old but no doubt expensive, and close fitting enough to separate the cheeks of her full bottom. That bottom got me into trouble.

If my old friend Gail had still been at the office she would have filled me in on everything that was going on in the building but, sadly, she has left and her replacement is nowhere near as informative nor friendly, I might add, although that could partly be because I'm not in there as often as I used to be so we haven't really got to know each other. Still, she was able to tell me a bit about the new tenants and, the particular bit I found interesting, that my husband had helped them sort out their networking when they moved their equipment in. My husband hadn't told me that.

I asked him about it and he just casually said "Oh yeah, they couldn't get their computers online so I took a look and got lucky and they're working fine." So how come they'd asked P for assistance, I mean he doesn't look technical or nerdy and there are plenty of other tenants, and why didn't any of them know how to get online. He told me it wasn't actually a case of 'them' on the day in question, it was just Julie who owns the business, and the reason he'd got involved was because she'd knocked the office door and told him Reception had said we had our own system separate from the communal broadband system and might be able to help her. Simple as that, and P had helped. I asked him how long it had taken and he said not long at all, less than an hour he thought. Ha! My husband doesn't give up an hour so easily and how come he only thought, how come he didn't remember and what was the exact problem anyway, I asked. He told me it was just a mistake with the router password but she'd made him a coffee which he couldn't really refuse so that slowed him down a bit as she was chatting too.

"I bet she was." I said, "So you know her name and what they do, then. And who else works with her, is her husband in the business?"

"She isn't married actually," he said.

"Oh, how come you know that?"

"Because in the same way you just asked me if her husband was in the business, just polite conversation, I asked her the same thing and that was her answer. What's the problem?"

P was getting irritated by my questions, I could tell that. I said she was quite attractive from what I'd seen of her, wasn't she, and I asked him if she always wore jeans. I mean men don't notice that sort of thing unless their attention has been caught. He told me he had no idea whether she always wore them as she'd only been there a short time but yes she did seem to wear jeans quite a lot now that I mentioned it. Oh yes, he'd noticed alright, no doubt about it.

"And was she wearing them the day you helped her out?" I asked. "Maybe that would account for how long you were with her, I bet she threw in the odd wiggle, she could hardly help it as her jeans are so ridiculously tight. Perhaps I'll revert to coming in more often."

"Perhaps you should and perhaps then you'd get to know her and you could make your own mind up instead of beating about the bush asking me ridiculous questions. If you're asking me if I noticed she's got a nice arse the answer's yes, if you're asking if I fancy her the answer's no, if you're asking if she was flaunting herself in any way the answer's don't be so bloody ridiculous. She seems just a nice girl with a young business, trying to expand it, no airs and graces, she dresses how she's comfortable. End of."

P then got up from his desk, put the snib on the office door and turned off the light. I asked him what on earth he was doing and he said something he hadn't done enough of lately, being as I was so infrequently in the office these days and when I was there it wasn't usually for long. Then he got his school cane from under the lip of his desk top. I told him oh no he couldn't do that, not today, I wasn't meant to be staying at all, I'd only popped in for some bags from upstairs. He told me what he was about to do wouldn't take long and he marched me across to my own desk, the top of which was clear, and bent me across it. I had jeans on myself as it happened and his hands reached round for the stud and zipper and pulled them down to my thighs.

"If it's just a bit of attention you need, you're about to get it and you'll be more focused on your own backside than the girl down the corridor's, I can assure you. And if this doesn't nip your nonsense in the bud then you'll get another dose at home tonight, do you understand?"

"Yes P," I mumbled just as the first stroke landed across my cheeks.

I got twelve strokes and couldn't cry out because the offices either side were working. The strokes came fast because P wanted it over quickly, short sharp shock to bring me back to reality, he told me afterwards. Also because anyone who did hear anything would hardly have time to adjust their ears and try to figure out what was going on before it was all over. He told me to get up and pull up my jeans. I just lay there I didn't want him to see my face. He said I better get up because he was switching the light back on and taking the snib off the door. I got up quick enough then, grimacing as my jeans slid over my caned bottom. The light went on. I pouted and got a wet wipe out of my handbag and put it to my cheeks, I hadn't been crying but he needn't know that. I sniffled and asked him why he'd turned the light off, he said so that anyone passing would think we were out. I looked at the office door, I hadn't even noticed that the little porthole window in it had had its covering removed and now showed light to the other side. 

P came across and patted my bottom. "Any more silly questions?" He asked.

"No, I'm sorry," I said and pecked him on the cheek. I left because I had stuff to dispatch and I didn't want to start getting horny, which I could feel coming on in spite of the burning in my backside. P had been right, my attention had certainly been re-focused:)

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx