Yes

You know the waitress. Mia is a sweet young girl working part-time in the coffee shop to help herself through tuition. You like to listen to her chattering about her first-year-of-university grand problems and challenges and you feel she looks up to you in a number of ways. Now, though, you feel you'll meet a new part of her and not to the good.

"Oh, hi, Mia..." You say, turning around to face her awkwardly. "Jenna!" Mia's expression relaxes momentarily as she recognises you but a fleeting moment later it turns stern and responsible again. "I cannot believe you'd do something like this! I've been serving you coffee for almost a year, you've always been so considerate!"

You are a clever girl, even people who are not your fans exactly have always admitted that much; even through the turmoil of feelings rushing you - fear, embarrassment, disbelief and a certain degree of excitement - you can work out the connections you've created. In a considerate well-meaning and much better disciplined world not recycling must be a crime earning the offender not a beheading, perhaps, but certainly a sore behind. As for the change in Mia, weren't customer service employees mistreated as a norm in the world you have left behind? Now, you are guessing, their service will be much closer to exemplary lest their bottoms start to burn, but so will the attitude the patrons are expected to show them and the establishment.

"I'm sorry, my mind just wandered..." You say, feeling extremely silly explaining such a little thing to a waitress years younger than yourself. Mia seems to find nothing wrong with your tone; if anything, it softens her voice when she responds: "It is still unacceptable, Jenna, you know what the house rules are."

You think you do, the answer is supplied by the magic of the Rulebook, but you still ask what exactly she must do in response to such an outrage. Presumably your previous record was very good indeed since Mia is not surprised you do not know the exact punishment and she agreeably provides the details:

"I'll have to ask you to take off everything below the waist and store your clothes until your punishment is over; you will then receive a dozen strokes with the establishment's standard strap and have an additional measure to ensure you've learnt your lesson." Mia pauses for a moment and with the slightest degree of awkwardness adds: "If that's all, please take your skirt and underwear off, you can keep your footwear."

Despite the Rulebook has already demonstrated the extent of its might, you have no doubt you will be shouted at, kicked out and maybe detained once you start stripping in a cafe in the middle of the business district. Start stripping you do, however, as between your loss of the sense of reality, the power of the Rulebook and Mia's perfect calmness you quite simply see no way out. You open your gray smart skirt and awkwardly step out of it; after hanging it on the back of the nearest chair, you reach for your sensible white cotton panties, you eyes firmly fixed on the floor right ahead of yourself.

Once they are off (you feel you have already offered everyone every perspective of yourself as you were slipping them down your legs), Mia wastes no time in taking them from you, snatching up your skirt and disappearing into the staff room after telling you to keep your hands on your head and face the door before she returns. As your lift your arms, your blouse and the thin cashmere jumper you have on top ride higher up, ending any hope of a loose edge protecting the last shreds of your modesty. Instead your hairless mound faces the entire world through the glassed walls of the cafe, cool air tingling it. You hear a couple of chuckles from the few remaining coffee-goers (your eyes are still avoiding going up) but there is no other reaction to your state.

Mia returns carrying a heavy-looking strap and after making you say directly and completely for what she is about to discipline you tells you to bend over the nearest table. Obediently you comply trying not to cramp up your neat blouse too badly. The table is so low that even with your far from impressive height you have to arch your back, sticking your cheeks towards the younger girl.

Mia steps to the side and without further delay lifts her strap. A ringing slap echoes in your ears a fraction of a moment before a line of fire erupts across your cheeks. Is this what you're making yourself go through?! Not to mention countless other girls who are not sharing your perversion?? Before you can fully appreciate your lack of consideration for others' welfare, however, Mia strikes again and again. Your fingers dig into the table as you desperately wiggle your bottom, but Mia's aim is true as she lays on the thick red lines. You bite your lips to stay quiet, then moan, then yelp as the angry heat builds up and so does the wetness in the corners of your eyes... And then it is over. Your bottom and the top of thighs are still blazing, but Mia did her job quickly and ruthlessly and has now lowered the strap, letting it dangle from her surprisingly strong hand.

"Get up, please, Jenna" She says and you do, suppressing a sob, wincing in pain as your sore cheeks move. "I am sorry I had to do this, but you know, I'm sure, it was needed." You only nod, fighting the urge to put your hands onto your hot flesh, or better still, sit into a bucket of ice.

"As I mentioned before, however, we must complete part two of your punishment now. The standard would be giving you the chore of helping us sort the waste to ensure no other recyclables were mixed up accidentally; however, as we understand lengthy chores during lunch breaks can cause inconvenience to your coworkers and clients who did nothing to deserve this, you may instead choose to do it after your working day ends."

She pauses for a moment. "In any case, you will be able to collect your clothes after you are finished."