Meghan apologises

Meghan turns towards you, an imploring look on her face.

"John I'm so sorry, I just got distracted and forgot. It could happen to anyone."

"Let me explain some things, in case they still aren't clear to you, Meghan. Firstly, you are to address me as Sir, or Mr. Chandler, and not by my first name. Secondly, this is hardly your first mistake, and you know it. You have eight days to improve or you will be fired."

"But John, that's not fair," she protests, her face pleading.

"What did you call me?"

"John. I mean Mr. Chandler Sir."

"That's the last mistake you'll make without being punished, Meghan.

"Punished? Punished how, um, Sir?"

"I liked what your Grandfather had to say, about spanking secretaries in his younger days. I think that sounds like a good place to start."

Her face reddens and her mouth opens in shock.

"Oh John you wouldn't! You couldn't!"

"You're about to find out. Come over here and bend over my lap."

"Why? I didn't do anything wrong John!" Her eyes are wide and panicky.

"That's twice since I warned you that you used my first name. Now come and bend over my lap, or would you like to add defiance to the list of your errors?"

She bites her lip and shakes her head, tears are welling in her eyes.

"No Sir," she whimpers, coming slowly towards you. "But I think you're being mean, Sir." She stands beside your chair, hesitant, and your tug her shoulder, pulling her across your lap. She gives a little squeak of dismay and her dress rides up a bit, exposing more of her delectable tanned thighs. Her round bottom is across you lap, raised a little. She looks over her shoulder at you and you hold her gaze, making your face stern and unyielding. You land a smack across her ass and she winces, her tiny body jerking with the blow.

"Owwww! That was hard, please don't spank me so hard John...I mean Sir. Mr. Chandler please Sir." Her voice is pleading, pathetic.

"That's once for using my first name," you tell her, still holding her eyes with yours. You land a another smack on her ass, and she winces and wriggles again, her dress riding up a little further.

"And that's for using it twice." She gives a wailing gasp and tries to slide off your lap but you easily hold her petite body in place, and spank her again.

"And that's for forgetting and using it a third time," you tell her, ignoring her pleas and struggles, and spank her once more.

"And that's to help you remember." Her writhing has made her dress ride well up her thighs and he can see the bottoms of her butt cheeks. It's apparent she's wearing a thong, or perhaps no panties at all. She's sobbing quietly as she lays across your lap, making no effort to get up. You find the sight of her helplessness and humiliation arousing, but for the moment you just enjoy looking.