Maybe It Is

Mr. Lancing stopped abruptly at the copy room entrance.

"Stop it, you perv," he heard a young woman say. He saw now it was Abby, a bright intern who had started with the firm a few months ago. A young man, with his back to him, stood a couple feet back from her at the collating machine. Mr. Lansing was about to intercede when Abby jut out her rump at the young man. He, in turn, placed a stack of papers in the machine then swung out his arm and gave her a quick swat on the butt.

"I said stop," she whined, then giggled. Out thrust her bottom again.

Encased in a tastefully fitted dress knitted dress, appropriate for the accounting firm's dress code, Mr. Lancing, the firm's Human Resources Director, understood the young man's engagement. Nonetheless, he was disappointed. The work ethic of today's youth was appalling. This wasn't play time. He cleared his throat. Abby looked up and her eyes locked with his as they widened in shock. The young man turned and Mr. Lancing noted in his periphery the meticulously groomed thin sideburns and soul patch. Hayden, the spoiled snot hired from their crosstown competitor, Whitney, Larson, and Fox. Another recent hire, two years out of college and had yet to pass his CPA exam. He held Abby's gaze a few moments more, then kept walking to his meeting.

A half hour later, Abby returned to her desk and set down the stack of twelve, bound reports. As she reached for a Post-it to make a note for her supervisor, she noticed another yellow sticky on her phone. "Abby, please stop by my office at 5:30." It was signed by Mr. Lansing.

Her first reaction was a cold chill. She screwed up and was going to be fired. That stupid Hayden. She fell into her chair and stared at the note. But then it occurred to her that it also could be about the firm's annual report she was helping Mr. Lansing with that was due the next week. That must be it. They had talked almost daily about that and she hadn't seen him today. Well, except for at the copy room. Stupid Hayden.

Feeling relieved, she cheerfully scribbled her note and stuck it on the stack of reports. Then the time of her visit with Mr. Lansing sunk in. 5:30. She was supposed to go with Hayden and a bunch of associates to a happy hour at five. Bummed, she phoned Hayden and informed him she would meet him there later, and carted off her copied reports to their next destination.

At 5:25, Abby took the elevator up three floors to the executive suite. Not surprising, it was deserted. Staff were discouraged from working past five. "Family First" was one of the corporate mottos. A spike of panic paralyzed her. Was their meeting at 4:30? Did she misread it? Just then a door down the hall opened. Mr. Lansing's head popped out.

"Hello, Abby. Come in, please."

She followed him into his office and sat where he motioned in one of the chairs by his desk. He strode slowly around to his side of the desk and sat. There were no papers on the top, which at first she took as a good sign. No form to sign to go in her file documenting her foolish moment of "inappropriate behavior in the workplace." A forever smudge on her professional record. As the HR Director, he would have every kind of personnel form readily at hand, so this was good. Then her heart sank. No this is bad. Very bad. There's nothing to talk about. Finished. Pack your things and leave.

"Abby?"

She tensed and sat up straighter.

"You're one of the brightest persons I've worked with in a long time. What year are you?"

"A junior, sir."

He folded his hands and leaned forward. "So next year you graduate, then take your exam. I guarantee you'll pass first time through."

Abby breathed again and almost felt a tear of relief. "Really? Thank you, Mr. Lansing. I love accounting. I'm such a geek. I love it." She looked at him. He was staring at her. "Oh, I didn't mean that you're a..."

"But Hayden?"

"Sir?"

Mr. Lansing leaned back in his chair. "Hayden, is in the wrong field. He's not corporate material. He will not be back tomorrow."

Abby gasped. "What? Don't fire him because of me. I provoked him."

"We'll talk about your part in this in a moment." Mr. Lansing stood up and started pacing. "Hayden is a free spirit. An artist. Yes, he's good with numbers, but he doesn't grasp the principles of accounting. Nor does he have the discipline to learn them. He is and will remain miserable as an accountant. What's more, he will drag you down. I am doing you both a favor."

Abby's lower lip quivered. "I feel horrible. What have I done?"

Mr. Lansing came over and half sat, half leaned on a corner of the desk closer to her.

"Well, let's talk about that. As I said, you have great potential. Unlike Hayden, all this whole accounting thing seems to come naturally to you."

Abby sat up. "Oh, it does, Mr. Lansing. It does."

"But you're still young. You don't have the discipline yet of a proper work attitude. You still have a part-time mall retail job fun and games mentality. Nothing wrong with that...at the mall. This internship, though, is the big time for you. You need embrace this now. It's time to grow up."

Abby looked down at her lap. "I know, sir. My parents always say the same thing. I'm still figuring things out. Life, I mean."

"I appreciate that, Abby. You have been sort of pushed ahead of your time."

"That's exactly how it feels. Like I'm always catching up."

Mr. Lansing nodded. "You need guidance, Abby. Even as an adult. Your parents won't always be there to look after you."

She laughed. "They really didn't anyway. They both worked. A lot."

Mr. Lansing thought for what began to feel like an uncomfortably long time. He stood up. "Abby, you need a good spanking."

"Excuse me?"

He took her by the hand. "Stand up."

Abby stood but was so bewildered she couldn't form words because suddenly nothing made any sense. Before she knew it, she was bent over Mr. Lansing's desk.

"My parents were like yours, Abby. Always busy."

Abby tried to stand but felt has big hand on the small of her back. She was pinned. "I don't understand. What are you...?" She felt a sudden fire explode across her cheek as Mr. Lansing's other hand swung down. She screamed out. Then gasped as another blow came, and more.

"Abby, my salvation was a nun in the boarding school I was sent away to. She instilled in me self-discipline through the discipline she gave, just as I'm giving you now." He stopped spanking and stepped to the side of the desk. "Do you understand me?"

There was silence. Then slowly at first, he could see Abby's body tremble. Then came a loud sniffling sound, followed by a low mewl. She raised her head and nodded. Mr. Lancing dropped to a knee next to her and stroked her hair. "You can have what I have, Abby. Position, power to create good things. It's in you. It just needs shaping. Which brings us to the copy room."

She nodded and he noticed the sound of her crying intensified.

"That kind of behavior can never happen again. You're beyond that." He helped her stand up. "Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," she croaked, her face down-turned.

"It was very childish and I hope I will never have to do this again."

She looked up at him. Her mascara trailing down her cheeks. "Do what sir?"

He sat down in her chair, pulled her over his lap, and said, "Treat you like a child."

Abby yelped when he lifted her dress to her waist. She started to move her hand back to cover when he worked the waistband of her black silk panties over her pink bottom, but then put her hand back on the floor and let him slide them to her knees. She knew he was right.

The first spanks stung the most, nearly unbearable. But then, time stood still and Abby disappeared deep into herself. She didn't feel any pain, but cried for the little girl walking away into a dollhouse, and cried even more at the sight of the woman who now came out of a beautiful house, confident and poised. She wanted to be this woman. Knew that she could. Her tears stopped though the spanking went on. She smiled, oblivious to the pummeling on her bottom.

Suddenly she felt the world tilting and then found herself sitting on Mr. Lansing's lap. He held her close and she sunk her head against his shoulder, not yet ready to leave this dream. A deep masculine voice pried open her reverie.

"Abby...Abby, let's get you dressed so you can go home. This is no way for a confident and poised woman to be. Is it?"

She laughed as she wiped her eyes. "I don't know, sir. Maybe it is." She kissed his cheek before standing up and rubbing her bottom. "Maybe it is"

THE END