ANGELA by Helier

Angela came straight to my office when she got back later that morning.
She looked at her best - her lovely flow of blond hair loosely tied behind
her head, a flush in her soft cheeks. She was optimistic, cheerful.
She knew I would have drawn the figures by then and she was
confident we would be in the high 60's. I had bad news for her - we
were at 63%.

She stared at the figures in disbelief. In spite of all our efforts, hers
included, we were still below target. I knew it was a serious blow to
her after all she had achieved.

I looked up at her but she was half-turned away. Her eyes were filling
with tears and her pretty face was crumpling as the first sobs trembled
in her bowed shoulders. She glanced back at me for a moment
perhaps hoping in her despair that there was something I hadn't said
that would save her but then her eye caught the ruler I had already
placed on my desk. Seeing it she despaired. She looked back in
misery at the figures, shaking her head; then, tears streaming down
her cheeks, she dragged herself without a word to the space in front of
my desk. There, with a fearful glance at the long heavy ruler, she
picked up her thick woollen skirt and bent over, grasping her ankles
with shaking hands. I stared mesmerised for a moment at the thin
covering of white satin stretched across her beautifully rounded bottom
then I called the staff in.

"It seems..." I said when the initial hubbub had died down. "... that
Miss Redmond has failed us. She tried hard - we all did. But we are
three percent below target. Therefore, as you must all be aware, there
will be no bonus this month."

There was a murmur of dismay which quickly died away as people
realised the full significance of her unusual posture.

"Jeanette." The office junior looked up, shocked suddenly to hear her
own name. "Jeanette. Please take down Miss Redmond's panties.
To her knees will be sufficient."

Jeanette gasped. She was only sixteen and I could see she was
feverishly imagining how she would feel in the same predicament -
perhaps she was still spanked at home. In any case her hands
trembled as she slipped her fingers around the white satin and tugged
Angela's panties down her thighs. Angela was trying to be brave but
with such humiliation she couldn't help crying. Her tears fell on the
carpet.

I took the ruler and laid it across her trembling bare flesh. Really I
knew the ruler wouldn't greatly hurt her - it was to be a symbolic rather
than a painful punishment - but when I drew back and gave her a solid
whack across her seat she nevertheless squealed with the shock of it.
I gave her another, reddening the tops of her thighs, then gave the ruler
to Jane, a tall muscular girl in her early twenties. Jane's two strokes
were higher, on the rounding of Angela's bottom, and each one sent
her staggering forward a little. Her breath was coming in short gasps
and she quickly rubbed at her stinging flesh as the ruler was handed
on.

Mrs Debenham knew exactly what she wanted to do. She had worked
at a girl's boarding school and had had plenty of opportunity to practice.
Her two strokes were right on top of mine on the upper part of Angela's
glowing thighs. Last of all came Jeanette who was so nervous she
almost dropped the ruler before placing two quite sharp little strokes low
across Angela's buttocks.

Knowing her punishment was over Angela straightened up. With her
back to us she pulled her knickers up and settled her skirt. When she
turned around her face was tear-stained and her breath still came in
little gasps but she was quite surprisingly composed.

"Thank you, everybody ..." She faltered for a moment but then
recovered herself. "I will revise certain of our strategies and .... and
either we will meet our targets or next month I will take ... three strokes
of the ruler from each of you. Please return to your desks now and I
will bring the changes round."

Jane and Jeanette both gave her a quick hug and they all filed out.
She stared after them for a moment.

"I don't want to fail them again, James," she murmured, then she turned to
look at me. "Let's get to work."

Within moments I had the computer whirring like a top. I knew I would stay
there all night if that's what it took to make her adjustments work. I
knew she was on the right track - we'd get there sooner or later - and after
all these years of working for stuffed shirts it felt great to have a boss
who took responsibility for her own decisions.

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