A long afternoon

You still have mixed feelings with something definitely bugging you on the background of your mind as you head back to your own office. Work understandably stops when you arrive, as everyone wants to know how the meeting went and what, if anything, needs to be done to follow up on it. You give everyone the broad picture; by now some got somewhat better than others at pretending they are not looking at your breasts as you are talking, but somehow it still is not getting old. But then it is not for you either, not exactly.

After you finish talking to everyone, you say that to save the time of the rest of the team you will talk to the people who will have specific follow-up tasks individually, but for now, as everyone is distracted anyway, it is time for your postponed morning spanking. Today's portion was to be with a tawse, so you retrieve it and get onto the now very familiar bench face down while a queue forms very smoothly now. You can hear the reactions to your bottom turning out to having been reddened already, but you know that the fairly mild spanking you received earlier will not in any way soften the one you will receive now. You would need to be in a far worse state for that.

As your bottom is being whipped and as you groan, moan and yelp into your fists, you also feel (albeit at a very much secondary position to the pain) that your earlier discontent is growing into full-scale anger, at what you are not entirely sure. You try to keep yourself together but with every lash the pain only amplifies the feeling. Fortunately you are sufficiently cool (even if your bottom is not) to realise that letting any of that anger spill out would lead to more consequences than your bottom woouuld like before you can get to the Rulebook to correct the situation.

Your tears are falling quite freely if not yet in a continuous stream by the time the spanking finally ends. The pain took the edge of the sudden rush of anger somewhat, making you miserable in a different way, but you make yourself go through the motions of thanking everyone, replacing the tawse and returning to your (suddenly very uncomfortable) seat. There you decide to give yourself a few minutes to try and get some self-composure, drink some water, wipe your tears, discreetly rub your bottom. Once you feel like you can talk like a functioning adult again, you start calling the people you need to talk to one by one.

Bit by bit you get yourself back into the work mode and allow yourself to appreciate the earlier success. Even if someone else orchestrated it, you will get your share of credit for the deal reached. You also have a funny moment inside your head when you finally realise what has been nagging you; it was the willingness with which the outsiders, who were not originally under the Rulebook's influence have joined in your mistreatment and humiliation. Once you have figured that out, it is easier to make yourself let that particular issue go and tell yourself that it is probably still the Rulebook's work at play there; it is just normalising whatever is happening to anyone who encounters the Rules, whether from the very beginning or later.

Feeling a bit better after that conversation with yourself, you get on with your work, although the prospect of the evening ahead is looming bigger in your mind now... And all the fun it will bring.