Page 30 of His to Correct

I led Mandy to the elevator, maintaining a stern silence as we rode down to the fiftieth floor. I could sense Mandy’s nervous energy, the way the other woman fidgeted and avoided eye contact. Part of me felt a twinge of sympathy, remembering my own recent experiences over Stuart’s knee. But a larger part felt a growing sense of righteous authority.

Mandy is disrespectful and lazy, unless dealt with firmly. She needs to learn her place, and I’m the one who has to teach her, because she disrespected me.

As we exited the elevator, my eyes swept the hallway, noting the discreet doors labeled simply with numbers. I found room 5003 and ushered Mandy inside.

The punishment room was austere but not stark. In its basic outlines it resembled nothing as much as the sort of generic office a visiting executive might use. A polished wooden desk dominated one side, with a stylish, modern desk chair behind it. Next to the chair stood a cabinet that I recognized immediately from Heather’s quick briefing as the location of the various disciplinary implements sanctioned for correcting Selecta staff.Against the far wall stood a piece of furniture that could easily be mistaken for an ottoman, if one didn’t happen to know that a variety of restraints lay concealed behind subtly arranged faux-leather flaps in its sides.

My breath caught a bit in my throat as I took it all in. This was really happening. I was about to discipline a subordinate, to assert my authority in the most primal way. My pussy clenched again at the thought of the sheer nearness of what seemed a turning point in… well, in everything. I forced myself to focus.

“Stand in front of the desk, Mandy,” I ordered, pleased at how steady my voice sounded. “Put your hands on your head.”

Mandy complied, her eyes downcast. I moved behind the desk and sat in the chair, fully aware of how the height and bulk of the polished surface emphasized the power dynamic between us. I took a deep breath through my nose, looking up steadily into Mandy’s pretty, blushing face.

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling how the pose channeled Stuart’s commanding presence. My eyes traveled downward to assess Mandy’s sizable chest. I realized, to my pleased surprise, that I felt no compunction at all about looking at her that way: the idea that I should feel embarrassed to enjoy disciplining another woman for her misbehavior suddenly seemed ridiculous.

“Do you know why you’re here, Mandy?” I asked, my tone cool and professional.

Mandy nodded, her cheeks flushing. “Yes, miss. I was… disrespectful. And lazy with my work.”

“That’s right,” I confirmed. “Your behavior has been unacceptable. You’ve wasted company time and resources, andyou’ve shown a complete lack of respect for your superiors. This stops now. Do you understand?”

“Yes, miss,” Mandy whispered.

I stood and moved to the cabinet. I opened the door to reveal the paddles, straps, and canes hanging inside. Slowly and deliberately, certain Mandy watched every gesture, I reached inside and fetched out the official white Selecta paddle with the blood-red logo on the blade—the same kind Sharon and Stuart had used on my own bare bottom.

With its cool, hard handle in my right hand and its blade resting in my left, I moved around the desk to stand beside Mandy. “I’m going to paddle you now. You will count each stroke and thank me for correcting you. Is that clear?”

Mandy nodded, her breathing quickening.

“Verbal answers, Mandy,” I admonished.

“Yes, miss. I understand,” Mandy replied quickly.

“Good. Now, bend over the desk and lift your skirt.”

I watched as Mandy complied, her movements hesitant but without real resistance. As the other woman’s skirt rose, revealing a lacy red thong, I felt a surge of arousal. Not really unwelcome, but beside the point right at the moment, I told myself.

Then, with a flash of insight, I thought better of that rejection. I remembered the touch of Stuart’s hand on my bottom, of how terribly effective an assertion of his authority, within the unique culture of Selecta, it had seemed to me.

“Put your hands on the desk,” I told Mandy coolly, despite the heat I could feel building in my blood. “I want you on your elbows.”

“Yes, miss,” Mandy said quietly. Then, unmistakably, I saw her hips jerk backwards, and just as clearly I heard a tiny noise come from deep in her throat. With a flush of heat in my own cheeks, I recognized the symptoms—because I had shown the very same ones.

I put the paddle down on the desk in front of her, remembering how Stuart had done the same, to remind me of the lesson he intended to teach. I moved behind Mandy and I reached out and grasped the hem of her skirt and began to roll it up. My fingertips brushed Mandy’s sweet little bottom and she shuddered at the contact.

I finished rolling and tucking the skirt to ensure it wouldn’t fall and get in the way of the paddle. My voice said, seemingly of its own accord, “I’m going to take these provocative panties down now, Mandy. You’ve earned a bare-bottom correction, haven’t you?”

“Yes, miss,” Mandy breathed. “Please… I’m very sorry. Please, not too many?”

With another littleahamoment, I saw with absolute clarity just how deeply Mandy needed a firm hand. She had become almost a different person here with me, having seen that I could manage her according to Selecta’s special customs. Mandy had this job because she had an enormous amount of talent and because that talent could best be brought outthis way: skirt up and panties down when necessary to keep her on track. The paddle coming down on her naughty bottom to remind her she belonged to an organization that expected her best effort.

“I’m going to paddle you until I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson, Mandy,” I told her, hearing the growing force in my voice as things clicked into place in a new way. “Is that understood?”

Mandy practically sobbed her reply. “Yes, miss.”

I reached for the waistband of the lacy red thong, my heart pounding. As I slowly lowered the skimpy garment, revealing Mandy’s shapely bottom, I felt a growing sense of the rightness of it all, at least here and now, for me and for Mandy. I was really doing this, and I intended to enjoy it.

The panties slid down Mandy’s thighs, and I let them fall to her ankles. My eyes were drawn to her now-exposed backside—round, firm, and slightly quivering. Without conscious thought, I placed my hands on Mandy’s bottom cheeks, feeling their warmth and softness.

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