“Come on, Anita. Unless you want to dig yourself deeper into trouble, you will learn to pay attention and obey!”
Anita ducked her head, and her blond bangs fell forward, obscuring her eyes. She was a pretty young woman, high-spirited, and as a maid, much more trouble than she was worth. But I knew that I could tame this girl. All it would take was time and determination.
I walked to the cabinet mounted against the right wall of my office. I had the cabinet built specially for this room, and the dark, wooden cabinet was flush to the wall. I opened the door slowly and selected a medium length rattan cane. The slender implement was highly polished, thin and whippy. At just over three feet long, the cane would deliver the message I intended.
I glanced back at Anita. She stood with her head down and shoulders tense. I almost felt sorry for the young woman. I knew her comments about my establishment were spoken off-hand, and she never intended for me to overhear her casual remarks. If it had been any of my other workers, I might have ignored the casual slight. Hell, I might even have laughed.
But not with a new maid. Especially not one as proud and haughty as Anita. She had a way of looking down on others in our profession. Of making the other working women feel as if their jobs were demeaning – as if a maid is somehow less important than other staff members. It wasn’t that long ago that Anita was a rich girl; and that novelty of wealth had yet to disperse from her ‘better-than-thou’ attitude toward the rest of us.
Anita, I decided, was overdue for a caning.
“I want you to take off your skirt, Anita, and then bend over the back of that chair.”
When I spoke these words, I finally had her attention. Anita jerked her head up. She glanced at the chair and opened her mouth to protest.
I raised the cane in warning. “Do you have more to say before I’ve decided how many strokes you’ll recieve?”
Anita stopped. Silently, she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. By now she knew that she was going to be caned and that anything she said would only make it worse.
Anna was a tall girl, pretty in her dark pantyhose and white blouse. She was a natural blond, with a clear complexion. Anita was slim without being bony and had no difficulty bending over the back of the chair I’d indicated.
“Grip the seat tightly,” I said, motioning to the wicker seat. “If you move during this caning, we will begin again. Is that clear?”
Anita’s hair hung in her face, but she bobbed her head up and down in understanding. I knew this formerly rich girl had never been whipped before; and she had no idea what was really coming.
Her dark pantyhose was stretched tightly over her bottom, and I could see the outline of her panties beneath the translucent fabric. Anita trembled in anticipation of the caning she was about to receive. Her stiff posture indicated that she was ready to have this over with.
But I wasn’t yet finished with the design of this particular punishment. I thumbed the intercom box on my office desk. “Elizabeth?”
“Yes, ma’am,” my receptionist answered.
“You and Gloria come into my office. There’s something I want you to see.”
Still bent over the chair, Anita twisted her head to the side. Her blue eyes were wide with fear. She hadn’t counted on an audience. But before Anita could say anything, I raised the cane and flicked it lightly against the young woman’s bottom. Anita yelped, though an impact that slight could scarcely have stung at all.
“Witnesses,” I said, cutting off any chance of protest. “You’ve shamed me and the rest of the women who work here. These two women will witness your punishment.”
When the door to my office opened, I didn’t wait to see who was there. I simply raised the cane high over my shoulder, took aim on Anita’s quivering bottom, and whipped her sharply across the center of buttocks. As the first of Anita’s first many cries filled the room, I heard two girls giggling at the door behind me, and I knew that Anita would remember this lesson for a long time.