He replayed that portion of the film, keeping a close eye on her face this time. She looked nervous, but then smiled easily and closed the cash drawer when a customer walked up to make a purchase.
Marcus set his mug of coffee down and checked his watch. It was just after five pm. The shop would have just closed and she'd be doing cleanup for the next hour. He got up and put his suit jacket on, considering. He was angry. He had given her a job and she was outright stealing from him. He should go into the store right now and fire the little thief, but what would be the fun in that? A grin spread across his face as he rose to his feet. He had a far more interesting method to teach the pretty little thief a lesson.
He walked out of the building and around the corner to the shop. It was already dark as it was mid-January, and he could see clearly into the brightly lit shop. Using his key, he let himself in.
"Oh hey, Mr. C," Darren called out.
Marcus smiled at the young man but his gaze came to rest on a very surprised Marlene who stood near a display, a pile of books in her arms. "Hi Darren, how are you doing?" he asked, setting his keys down on the counter and straightening the bookmark display.
"I'm good, really good. Busy with school and all, but good. Big test on Monday." Darren had just started at university.
"Well, I'll tell you what, Darren," Marcus said. "Why don't you head out early and I'll help Marlene get the place cleaned up. I wanted to talk to her about some things anyway. I'll even pay you for the hour you were scheduled." He watched Marlene as he said this, seeing her face go just a little whiter. He wondered what she'd look like once he took her into his office to reprimand her. Wondered at the expression on her face once she learned just how her chastisement would come.
"Oh hey, you sure? Cause that'd be great, Mr. C.!"
Marcus smiled at the young man and patted his shoulder as Darren moved to gather his backpack and skateboard. At eighteen, Darren was the youngest employee at the store.
"Good luck on that test, Darren."
"Thanks, man," Darren said, shaking Marcus' hand and heading out the door. Once he was gone, Marcus locked the door behind him and turned to Marlene who quickly cleared her throat and began to stack the books she held on the shelf. He looked her over from head to toe. She looked good, dressed in a pretty skirt and silk blouse and wearing what he knew to be a very expensive pair of fire-engine red four inch heels. She had a coquettishness about her; she was almost shy but too pretty to be so. She had been as attracted to him as he had been to her right from the start and he wondered if he was right about his hunch that she was submissive. Well, he'd know one way or another within the next half hour.
"I can clean up by myself, Mr. Corran," she said. "I'm sure you have more important things to do."
"Well, actually, Ms. Parsons, like I told Darren, I'd really like to have a conversation with you."
She glanced up at him, her eyes wide. They were an unusual shade of almost violet-blue and there was an innocence in them that called to his darker, more depraved side. At twenty-four, she was six years his junior. Although he had a rule never to date an employee, she was definitely his type: pretty, with curly almost black hair, those innocent eyes and lips in a permanent pout set in a heart shaped face with a petite body nicely rounded in all the right places.
His mind wandered to the reprimand. He wondered how she would react to it, if it would arouse her. He wondered if she'd understand that arousal. Whether it did or not though, Marlene Parsons would learn a valuable lesson about what happened to bad girls who thought they could steal from him tonight.
He stepped closer to her and noticed how she clutched the books tighter to herself. She was nervous. He liked nervous.
"Why don't you go ahead and put those books down. We need to have a conversation."
"I really don't have much time. I have to get out of here right at six and there's so much to do…" she said.
"Am I making you nervous?" he asked, stepping closer.
She swallowed, wide eyes on his as she stepped backward. "Um…No, sir."
Sir was a nice touch. He always appreciated that from a woman and he hadn't even had to ask her to say it. This was a good sign. Marcus smiled.
"Ms. Parsons," he said, reaching out to pry the books from her hand. "I think you know what this is about. Let's go upstairs to my office."
After a moment, she released the books to him. He set them down and, with a hand at her low back, walked her up the stairs and toward the back of the store where his office was. He unlocked the door and opened it, inviting her to enter before him after switching on the lights.
"Sit down," he said, gesturing to the one wooden chair in front of the desk. He closed the door and went to the window to shut the blinds before turning to her. She sat with her hands in her lap and her shoulders slumped, her gaze down on the cuticle she was working. "Do you have any idea why we're here tonight?" he asked.
She glanced at him. "No, sir," she said.
Ah, the lying began.
Marcus folded his arms across his chest and simply studied her, allowing the tension to build while he maintained silence. He then moved to sit behind his desk after taking off his suit jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair.
"No idea at all?" he probed, taking out some papers from a drawer.
She cleared her throat. "Am I being fired?"
He smiled. "That will depend on you. Are you aware that we have a security system in place at the store?"
"Um…I…"
"I'll just be very clear about things. Over the last few months, the registers have been consistently coming up short, and I've just been looking through some of the footage. Interesting enough, I found you, Ms. Parsons, with your hand in the cookie jar, as the saying goes."
If it was possible, she turned even whiter than she had been. She opened her mouth as if searching for words, then closed it again. He remained silent as tears filled her eyes and she wrung her hands in her lap.
"Nothing to say?" he asked after a few moments of this.
"I…" she was flustered, he could see it. He had thought this wasn't the norm for her and wondered if it was her first time even. "Are you going to call the police?"
"I should."
"Oh, no, please don't. I mean, I…I'm fired, aren't I?"
"If I fired you, how would you pay me back?" he asked.
She looked at him with hope in her eyes.
"What did you use the money for?" he asked, although he had some idea.
* * *
Marlene sat staring at Mr. Corran. She'd always found him attractive but had, at the same time, felt totally intimidated by the man. She was shy with men as it was, but with him, he just made her incredibly nervous. Now as he sat behind his desk, she felt that anxiety doubly so.
"I don't want to say," she answered, kicking herself internally for what she'd done. It had been so stupid. What had she been thinking? She had been feeling guilty about it as it was, but somehow hadn't been able to stop herself. She'd seen the shoes at the shop a month before and just hadn't been able to resist. It wasn’t like her, not at all.
His picked up the phone. "Then I think perhaps I will make that call to the police after all."
"No sir, please! I don't even know why I did it! I've never done anything like this before. I mean…" she stopped. "I stole a candy bar once! I can't…I’m so sorry…I…" Tears were rapidly approaching, guilt and fear gripping her.
"Calm down, Ms. Parsons. Take a deep breath."
She looked up at him and nodded.
"Deep breath," he repeated.
Oh, he was going to wait for her to do that. She forced in a deep breath, then another, taking the tissue he handed her.
"Let's try again then. What did you use the money for?" he asked once she'd wiped her face and calmed down a little.
"Shoes," she said, her voice small.
His eyebrows went up, feigning surprise although he had known. A bookstore clerk could not afford the shoes she had o
n tonight. "Shoes?" he asked, trying to see around the desk. "The ones you have on, I imagine?"
"Yes, sir."
Something flashed through his eyes. Something wicked that made her heart skip a beat and some other part of her awaken. And when Marcus Corran grinned, she swallowed hard.
"Stand up, Ms. Parsons. Show me the shoes," he said, his tone entirely too casual.
Without a word, she stood.
"Back up a little. I can't see them over the desk."
She took two steps back and he looked at the high-heeled pumps that looked amazing on her.
"You have great taste, I'll give you that."
She went to sit down but he shook his head and pointed to the place she'd been standing. "Remain as you are. Hands at your sides."
She had been picking her cuticles again but at his command, set her hands at her sides, standing there awkwardly, waiting. "What now?" she asked. "I can't return the shoes but I'll pay you back and I'll never do it again. And if you're letting me keep my job, I can pay you back faster. I'll work overtime. Whatever it takes."
"Whatever it takes?" he asked.
What was she getting herself into? She watched him sitting here, looking at ease and absolutely in control. Something about that look made her sex throb, made her want to do whatever he demanded of her.
She nodded slowly with a quiet "Yes, sir."
Without breaking eye contact, Mr. Corran stood and rounded the desk, coming to lean against the front of it, folding his arms across his chest as he did. It took all Marlene had not to take a step backward.
"I don’t like thieves and I don't like liars, but I think I have an idea as to how we can work this out privately between us."
Did he mean sex? No, he could have any woman he wanted, she was sure of that. He was wealthy and handsome, he couldn’t mean sex.
"Curious what I have in mind?" he asked.
She only nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.
"I can't just let you off the hook without punishing you, obviously."
Punishing her? "But I'm going to pay you back."
"Yes, you will, but I don't believe verbal reprimands carry as much weight as physical chastisements do."
Physical chastisement? What did that mean?
"Otherwise, how can I be sure you won't just do it again when I turn my back?" he finished.
"I won't, I promise."
He nodded. "All the same, just to be sure…"
Knowing there was no way around this, she asked, "I don't think I understand what you mean, sir."
"Well," he began, her eyes following his progress as he walked to the wall where she noticed for the first time the cane that hung there. She'd never given it a moment's thought before but realized now its purpose. "I'm an old fashioned man and I believe some young ladies do better with old fashioned methods. For some reason, I have a feeling you may be one of those young ladies, Ms. Parsons," he began, taking up the cane.
She simply stared at him, her throat too dry to speak.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked, flexing the thing.
She shook her head, her eyes glued to it.
"It's a cane. One I acquired from an antique shop some years back. Have you ever been spanked, Ms. Parsons?"
"Spanked?"
"Spanked."
"Um…no, sir."
"Then I am guessing you've not been caned before?"
"You're going to cane me?" she asked, her mind slowly putting two and two together. He wasn't talking about sex. He was talking about spanking her. Physically punishing her.
"Only if you agree to the discipline."
"You can't do that," she said, her throat dry.
"And you can't take what doesn't belong to you. I won't punish you without your consent of course, but the alternative is, unfortunately, calling the police. It's up to you, Ms. Parsons. Take the caning or face charges."
She had no choice and she knew it, but a caning? She'd never been spanked or caned or anything before, but the thought, although it embarrassed and even frightened her, also, oddly, aroused her.
"No one will know?" she asked, some part of her trying to process the fact that she was about to give her consent to being physically chastised by her boss.
"No one but you and I, and once you've taken your punishment, you will be forgiven and we can put this whole matter behind us."
She looked from him, to the cane, and back. "Isn't there any other way?"
"I'm afraid not." He checked his watch before returning his gaze to her. "I have an appointment in about an hour so if you could make up your mind…" he trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air.
She nodded. "Ok," she said, her voice small, barely audible.
"Ok what?"
He was going to make her say it. Heat flushed her face as she stood staring at him and somehow, she formed the words he wanted to hear. "Ok, I will take the cane, sir."
"Good choice," he said, smiling. "And I'll be honest with you, Ms. Parsons, Marlene, may I call you Marlene?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be honest with you and tell you I will enjoy administering your punishment to your bare bottom."
"Bare?"
"It's not an offer I make lightly, just so you know. I would have fired anyone else."
"Oh…" what did that mean? Was she supposed to consider herself lucky? "Um…thank you?"
"And it's the swiftest way for us to put this behind us. How much did you steal from me again?" he asked. "Three-hundred-twenty-two dollars, is that right?"
"I don’t remember, sir."
"I do. Three-hundred-twenty-two cane strokes is an awful lot…"
"Oh, please no!"
He chuckled. "Tell me something, have you been spanked at all before? A hand spanking, paddled at school perhaps?"
She shook her head. "No, sir, never. Not even when I was little."
"Never?"
She shook her head.
"Three-hundred-twenty-two dollars. Three plus two plus two gets us to seven. We'll split it over two days time. I'll take you over my knee for a hand spanking tonight and you'll take the cane strokes on Sunday night."
"Oh…" she had no idea what to say. Over his knee seemed so intimate, but the cane terrified her.
Mr. Corran picked up the chair she had been sitting on and turned it so it faced her. He remained standing, watching her as he undid the cuff of his shirt at his right arm and rolled the sleeve up. He then did the same with the other sleeve before sitting down.
"Come here, Marlene," he said.
She went to stand before him and when she was close enough, he widened his knees and pulled her closer so she stood between his legs. His hands held her wrists as he looked up at her. "Do you understand why you're about to be spanked?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tell me. I'd like to hear you say it."
Tears warmed her eyes and fighting them was impossible. "You're going to spank me because I stole from you, sir."
He nodded. "Good girl. Do you deserve to be spanked for what you did?"
She nodded, sniffling.
He let go of one of her hands, reached into his pocket, retrieved a tissue and handed it to her.
"Are you wearing panties, Marlene?" he asked.
She nodded, barely able to hold his gaze.
"Reach under your skirt and take them down for me please."
Bare. He wanted her bottom bare. Slowly, she reached under her skirt and lowered her panties down until they fell to her feet, pooling around her beautiful new shoes. She went to step out of them but when he shook his head, she stopped.
"Good girl," he said. She nodded, dropping her chin to her chest, something about those words affecting her.
"Now raise your skirt up to bare your bottom."
"Mr. Corran, can you do it over my sk…"
"Your spanking will be administered to your bare bottom, Marlene. Now please raise your skirt."
She made a sound, just meeting his gaze for a moment before dropp
ing hers again and taking hold of the hem of her skirt. She pulled it up slowly, hesitantly, her face burning a shade of red she would now forever call shame-red. She stopped once she’d reached the tops of her thighs.
"Getting there, but not quite. All the way up to your waist. I want you fully exposed."
As embarrassed as she felt, her clit throbbed at his words and she raised her skirt higher, some foreign part of her that she didn't wholly understand wanting to experience this fully.
"Very pretty," he said after a moment. She nearly died at the thought that he was just about eye level with her pussy which she kept shaved bare. When he looked up at her, she saw that his eyes had darkened, the pupils dilated with arousal. She looked away, too shy to hold his gaze. "Keep your skirt up and lay across my lap," he instructed as he walked her around to his side.
She had to think how to do it and slowly bent her knees, keeping her skirt up with one hand and setting her other hand on his thigh to balance herself as she lay down over them. Once she was there, he guided both of her hands to the floor.
"Keep your hands and your feet on the floor, understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Her eyes remained wide as he adjusted her position, raising her skirt higher, pulling her tighter to him. Although she'd seen that he was aroused from the look in his eyes, when she felt the hard length of his erection at her belly, she gasped.
Once again, a chuckle came from him, but he didn't embarrass her further with words. Instead, one big hand caressed her bottom as he scissored his legs over hers, trapping hers between his.
"Naughty girls get their bare bottoms spanked, Marlene. Say it for me and we'll get this over with."
"Naughty girls get their bare bottoms spanked, sir."
"Good girl. Hands and feet on the floor now."
He began right away, the first spank landing on her right cheek. She gasped at the loud sound of it, glad no one was in the store to hear what was going on. He spanked her other cheek and she clenched her bottom in response.
"Soft, keep them soft, no clenching," he said, all the while holding her tight to him and spanking one cheek then the next, one cheek then the next. As the spanking progressed, the sound of his hand slapping her bottom was accompanied by her groans and sniffles, and her eventual pleading for him to stop, or at least to slow down, neither of which he did. Soon the hot sting turned into a constant pain as he spanked faster and harder, focusing on one cheek for three, four spanks all on the same spot, before moving to repeat on the other cheek. Marlene squirmed and struggled, unable to use her legs as he'd trapped them between his and when she tried to cover her bottom with her hands, he simply took her wrists in the same hand which held her to him and carried on, not once missing a beat.
The Disciplinarian: A Collection of Short Spanking Stories Page 8