Karenocracy Pt. 01

But, I shook off such ridiculous thoughts. I mean, she was annoying, and she over-stepped constantly. However, she wouldn't do something like that...would she? Even if she tried, I wouldn't allow her to...right? The intrigue was enough, despite feeling somewhat fearful, to bait me into her office regardless, almost seeking a dessert to the unnerving sensations I'd been experiencing all afternoon. Imagine she actually did think she had the right to spank me? I couldn't even predict how I'd respond.

I took my mud-caked boots off at the door and nervously headed into the back office that she'd set up in her house. It just exemplified the self-importance that she'd regaled herself with; converting a whole room in her house to be an office for her position of Homeowner Association president? It was a nothing title, one that she'd evidently gifted herself through her husband, yet, she was wielding untold power through it. As I entered the office and saw her behind the desk, I rued the day that I'd skimmed through that document without fully reading it.

Carol was resting back in the leather chair with her slippered feet crossed up onto the corner of the table, in a manner way more relaxed than my previous appearance here. Immediately, my eyes went straight to her feet, the same way that had been happening all afternoon. I couldn't even explain why, but just the casual way she always sat around while bossing me exuded confidence and power, and it had a way of seducing me. It was like a constant taunt, how she was able to freely stretch out and relax because I was doing her bidding; it humiliated me each time I looked at her, and I seemed to thrive while wallowing in that shameful feeling.

"Have you finally finished your chores?" she asked, while still wearing that stupid visor tucked into her blonde hair. It literally served no purpose, especially since we were in the house.

"Yes, they're finished." A quick glance at her crossed feet again left me gulping, but I stuttered and added, "Umm, ma'am. I finished my chores, ma'am."

I expected her to be pleased, however, instead her expression soured. "You know, you should be more grateful about this arrangement. I've never let anyone else off the hook as easy as you. You've been granted the opportunity to work your way out of your fine. As president of the Homeowner Association, that's incredibly generous on my part. You're denying the association board valuable fees to keep up their good work."

"I'm...ummm...I'm sorry, ma'am." I honestly didn't have a clue what to say. I could barely make sense of the speech she was scolding me with, because my eyes kept lurching back to her slippers, remembering how pampered her soles had been. It was so unusual, because I'd never been attracted to women, and definitely never thought about feet, but there was something drawing and enticing about them. Perhaps it was because these particular feet belonged to such a Karen. They just communicated how spoiled she was and how she always got her way at the expense and convenience of others. My own feet were sore as hell after trotting around her garden all day in my boots, yet here Carol was, carelessly wiggling her toes with not an ache in sight.

"Well, at least you feel it appropriate to apologise," she said in a superior tone. "But I wonder if that's enough to make up for the way you spoke to me earlier?"

Inside, I was chomping at the bit to highlight her hypocrisy. How she'd been goading and criticising me all afternoon, but another part of me was keeping my mouth firmly shut. There was a strange, growing urge coming to the fore, an urge that sought to praise her for her hypocrisy and blindly agree with how right she was. "I'm sorry, ma'am," I said, while barely believing what a snivelling, pathetic suck-up I'd become; though shivering with pleasure as I did the unthinkable. "I apologise for the way I spoke to you."

Carol was silent while she sat back in her chair, swivelling from side to side while her feet on the corner of the table acted as a pivot. Even though I couldn't look up due to the shame of my surrender, I could feel her eyes, boring into me and judging my weakness. Perhaps she had realised that something inside me had changed, and that I wasn't submitting to her unreasonable demands because I was fearful of that fine any longer, but rather because I was enjoying doing so.

"As you should," she finally said. "Especially with how much of a bother you've been to me. But, I expect no less from your sort."

I flinched at that, my head shooting up in surprise that she'd say something so...ignorant...so tone-deaf. I noted there was a slight smirk in the corner of her mouth, and then, something miraculously occurred to me. Was she doing this on purpose? Surely, she wasn't so up herself that she couldn't understand the rampant contradictions she continually splurged out? Had she noticed me sneaking glances at her feet and had she deduced I actually liked being mistreated by her? I suddenly felt so vulnerable, exposed and shy, and I cupped my hands into the small of my back and squirmed on the spot. There was nothing keeping in me in her office other than my own, weird desire to be there.

I heard a light chuckle from her, before she yawned while re-crossing her legs. "I still think you deserve to be taught a lesson, don't you think?" I noticed her adjusting her glasses out of the corner of my eye. "You need to have that attitude adjusted, young lady. We just can't have you speaking to me like that in future, can we? I mean, who do you think you are?"

I gulped, and though I knew I should be screaming and sprinting out of there, the way she was arrogantly scolding me kept me rooted to the spot. My voice was like a breathy stammer as I exasperatingly agreed with her and crossed the line into unexplored territory. "Yes, ma'am," I said while dipping my head in embarrassment; my cheeks a rosy tinge. "I need to have my attitude adjusted." I blushed shamefully as I knew what I was saying was ridiculous, and I couldn't help but quiver at the thought of someone else witnessing what was happening. There were so many connotations in my words; they reeked of submission and kinky depravity. I knew it, and Carol had to have known it too.

There was silence for a moment, before Carol swung her legs down from the corner of the table. "Well, this is certainly interesting," she said, while scratching her chin. "Seems like someone is finally accepting my authority, doesn't it? All it took was a day of hard work."

"Yes, ma'am," I said with a blissful shiver, having to close my eyes as I burned with shame under her amused stare. I had to take a deep breath of resignation before I continued, "I accept your authority." I knew in my heart this whole exchange was ridiculously embarrassing, and I'd have to go into hiding if my friends, family, or even any of the other neighbours in the community found out. But still, I couldn't fight the growing excitement of submitting to Carol more and more. It was so wrong, and she certainly didn't deserve my respect and adherence to her unreasonable demands, but it was for that reason that I couldn't deny them.

Carol began tapping her manicured fingernails on her desk, before she reached out and plucked a ruler from some kind of beaker she'd been using to store stationary. She gave it a playful slap against her arm, which caused me to dart my eyes up in apprehension. "You've been a bad girl, haven't you?"

My eyes jumped from her to the ruler and back. "Yes, ma'am," I squeaked, on the verge of passing out from the cringey embarrassment. As I squirmed, I noted that my pussy was becoming soppy. Why the hell was I becoming sexually excited at the thought of being punished by a complete Karen who was probably twenty years older than me? A Karen that had ruined my whole first-home experience. Now I was about to allow her to punish me? The thought of her stood outside my property, wailing and shrieking about my BBQ being inappropriate was fresh in my mind, as I capitulated and whispered, "I've been a bad girl, ma'am."

"You didn't do as you were told, did you? You didn't respect my authority." She let out another light chuckle before slapping her palm with the ruler again. "For that, you need to be punished, don't you? We can't have you showing such disobedience in future when I rightfully inform you that you've broken the rules."

My lips parted in a gasp as she uttered that word: rightfully. There was nothing rightful about the way she'd been digging her nose into my business, but I was teetering on a precipice of allowing her to punish me all the same. I dropped my eyes to the floor. "I need to be punished."

"Well, if you insist," she said, in a snooty, self-righteous tone, as if I was bothering her by needing to be disciplined. "Give me your hand."

I looked at her nervously, as she wielded the ruler in one hand, while the other was outstretched across the desk and waiting expectantly. "W-what do you mean?" I asked.

"Give me your hand," she repeated. "You need to be taught a lesson."

I looked at her hand again, and still, I felt afraid of crossing the line. It was strangely exciting to imagine being unfairly disciplined at Carol's insistence, but the reality was a different matter altogether. If she intended to cane my hand with that ruler; I knew the pain was going to be unbearable. My grandpa had once mentioned how he had been caned on the back of the thighs because a fellow student had wrongly accused him of cussing at her. The teacher hadn't listened to his protestations of innocence, and he'd been caned until tears were flowing, all for something he hadn't done. He'd held a gripe ever since, and it was a story he'd shared on many an occasion.

How bizarre, that almost seventy years later, I was stood near a desk and about to receive a similar, unjust caning when I hadn't actually done anything wrong. Perhaps that was just the fate of my family, and my grandpa's teacher had been a similar Karen, even back in those days. I was having a rude awakening to the reality of justice being irrelevant when lined up against a Karen's wants.

"Don't keep me waiting," Carol insisted while thumping the back of her hand against the desk. "Give me your hand right now, young lady." When I didn't immediately respond, she slapped her hand against the desk once more. "Right now," she almost shrieked. "Give me your hand right now before you regret it." Suddenly, she removed the visor with agitation and tossed it to the corner of the desk. Her cheeks became fiery while her eyes widened and bulged; spit spraying from her lips. "I'm not afraid to tell everyone you have been harassing and annoying me. Causing me endless problems and constantly testing my patience and authority." She was gritting her teeth as she seethed. "You know who I am, don't you? I can make your life way more difficult than I already have been. Do you need me to make a call to your company too? I know who you work for. You provided all of your details when you signed for the property. I can forward all future correspondence regarding your upcoming court case, to your employer if you prefer?"

I was frozen there, open-mouthed and silenced by that utter diatribe of irrational threats. But, I could see in her eyes that she was deadly serious. She basically saw it as her right to interfere and do whatever she needed to do to get her way. She was almost intoxicated by her own self-appointed importance and saw no problem in trampling all over my reputation if it meant she got to be declared the winner between the two of us.

The stern, strict manner of her tone, coupled with the principal-like nature of her neat, tied hair and her glasses, was enough to rattle me into offering my hand with those threats in mind. There was just something about the way she spoke to me that demanded obedience. The outrageous claims and demands were the kind of which that any Karen would be proud of; it was almost like she was demanding to see my actual manager because I wouldn't let her smack my hand with a ruler! The absurdity of the entire situation was leaving me light-headed, and as her fingers slinked around my wrist, I shook in apprehension at the impending punishment I was about to receive.

Her nails dug into my skin as she peered up at me. "I don't want to do this," she said. "This is your own fault and you're entirely to blame for what's about to happen."

I was already turning away and flinched, attempting to tug my wrist from her vice-like grip and dreading the pain that was about to be inflicted. I couldn't even bear to look as she lifted the ruler high above her head. I waited, anxiously, my muscles tight and shivering in trepidation at my fate. However, nothing happened. I opened an eye to peer, and saw that Carol was frozen with her hand in the air.

"Say it," she said while jiggling the ruler slightly. "Admit it's your own fault for being a terrible neighbour."

I didn't want to, and I didn't want to be caned, but the injustice of admitting I was a bad neighbour, when that was actually what Carol was, was so illogical that I couldn't resist the urge to give in and do exactly that. "I'm a terrible neighbour," I gasped. "It's my own fault." I glanced towards Carol, and with the way she was grinning, I could see that she was loving every minute of me capitulating to her Kareness; she had to know how ridiculous this entire set up was, and she was taunting me throughout. That in itself only encouraged me to submit to her irrational behaviour even more. "I'm so sorry you have to punish me, ma'am," I groaned. "I'm sorry to be a bother." My skin was almost topographic, such were the goosebumps sprouting up all over.

With that, I shrieked loudly as Carol chuckled in victory while slapping the ruler ruthlessly against my open palm. It's thick, wooden length, smacked against my exposed skin with a stinging slap that seemed to drive straight through to muscle and bone. I recoiled and attempted to pull my arm free, yet, Carol kept my wrist pincered in place, her nails latching into my skin while the full extent of the pain seeped through the bones in my hand.

"You bad girl," she said, and before I could even realise what was happening, she'd smacked the ruler forcefully against my palm once more. "You deserve to be punished."