Turnaround Meeting M/F
Their little meeting truly was a “turnaround”. It was just the two of them. Marilyn was uncomfortably seated in a hard chair on the wrong side of her executive desk. John, her employee, sat behind the desk and occupied Marilyn’s padded chair. He regarded her with a sober stare.
They had spent the last 20 minutes going over spreadsheets of the company’s cash flow situation, outstanding orders, and production schedule. For once, everything seemed to be on track! John had ordered one small change, but otherwise he was happy with the progress of Marilyn’s company. Marilyn would normally have been happy, but not today! When John had turned off that computer to fix her with that stare, her bottom had suddenly started to tingle. Marilyn had correctly guessed what was coming next!
Marilyn owned a small high-tech machine shop. She used computer-operated machinery to produce small high-profit parts that were used in such places as disk drives, hearing aids, and even medical implants. She had learned the business from working in a similar establishment for several years . Her former employer had encouraged her to move to another city and open her own machine shop, and had even provided the seed financing. Today, she and John, her former employer, sat in the office of the business that Marilyn had created. John had recently sold his business for enough money to retire for the rest of his life. Fortunately for Marilyn, John had almost instantly become bored with retirement. Now he had moved and hired on with Marilyn.
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After a year or two of modest success, Marilyn’s business had started to go downhill. Things had progressed to the point where Marilyn was having trouble meeting the payroll. Fortunately for her, that was when John had joined the company. His role was to be the sales representative, as well as a sort in-house consultant and troubleshooter. John’s connections quickly brought more business to Marilyn’s company, but John found certain problems. On looking at the situation in depth, John had decided that Marilyn’s business was basically sound, but it was Marilyn who was the main problem!
So John had only agreed to take the job if Marilyn agreed to certain conditions. One condition was a private weekly “turnaround” meeting between him and Marilyn. In this case, “turnaround” had a double meaning. First, the object of the meetings was to turnaround the business, and restore it to health and profitability. But also “turnaround” meant that John and Marilyn exchanged roles during these meetings. For one hour, John was the “boss” and Marilyn was the underling. However, that change in roles was far more than just honorary! For that one hour John had the authority to issue orders. He expected Marilyn to carry them out throughout the week. And if she didn’t? Well, you will see what happens.
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Usually these “turnaround” meetings were carried out over lunch hour, but today John had specified that this week’s meeting would happen at 5:30, meaning that all of the other employees would be gone for the day.
The first part of the meeting had gone routinely. In fact, it had gone better that routinely! Sales were up, as were collections. Finally they had a positive cash flow, so paydays had ceased to be an indigestion-inspiring event.
Now they just had that “other” thing to talk about. John swallowed a smile when he noticed Marilyn nervously fidgeting with her necklace. She didn’t realize it, but she always did that when she thought she was in trouble. That told John that Marilyn was in a receptive mood for the next ‘discussion”, and that she was unlikely to give him an argument.
“Marilyn, you yelled at Mr. Foster! We’ve had this discussion before, and I’ve told you that you will always treat customers diplomatically. We can’t afford to lose customers. Especially not now. What were you thinking?”
Her fingers twisted that necklace so hard that John was afraid she would pull the gold links apart. She finally answered, her tone only mildly defensive, “He was out of line, and the delivery date he wanted was totally impossible.”
“Correct on both counts,” John agreed, “So it was your job to turn on the charm and work something out with him. You accomplish nothing by yelling at a customer!”
Tears sprang into Marilyn’s eyes, “Damn it John, I know. He just caught me at the wrong moment. Thank you for smoothing things over with him. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“You know,” John replied, “Your good attitude about this makes this discussion both easier and harder.”
She looked at him strangely, waiting for the inevitable explanation.
“It’s easier because we don’t have an argument,” he continued, “but harder because I still have to punish you for what you did, even though I’m pleased with your attitude. There are ten employees here who depend on you to do the right thing every day. If you screw up and make us go bust, they’ll miss their mortgage payments and will barely be able to feed their kids from their unemployment checks.”
Marilyn nodded miserably, new tears running down her cheeks.
There was a long silence in the office, broken only by Marilyn’s sobs. Finally John spoke in that special “kind but firm” voice that Marilyn knew so well, “Shall we get it over with Marilyn?”
She inspected the carpet, and then finally nodded miserably.
“You know the drill,” he said, “Shoes, skirt and panties.”
Marilyn could have begged to be let off, but she knew that she needed this lesson to be burned into her psyche. Besides; part of her craved both the emotional release of a spanking and the unconditional forgiveness that John always granted at times like this.
Her mind wrapped in a protective fuzz of denial, she kicked off her shoes, unzipped her skirt, and allowed it to drop to the floor. She hesitated only slightly before pulling down her panties, doing it with her usual blush. As usual, the color of her newly-unveiled lower curls matched the bright red hue of her upper tresses. No hair coloring for this lady! She folded her clothing neatly, placing everything on her desk.
John watched Marilyn’s unveiling with his usual detachment. Although she was pushing 40, Marilyn kept herself trim. Nature had been good to her, so she was still a fine looking woman. Her hips were nicely rounded, her belly still flat, and her breasts were nicely proportioned. Her long legs were among her best features, along with her firm but round bottom. It was a bottom that John knew from previous experience was eminently spankable. Although he was a perfectly normal male, and a happily married one, John was somehow able to inspect Marilyn’s body with little of the normal male reaction.
You may find it strange, but John’s wife knew of his occasional bare-bottom duties at work and not only wasn’t jealous, she fully approved!
It wasn’t required, but Marilyn also removed her blouse, folding it and laying it on top of her other clothing. John looked on in approval. “That’s why Marilyn will ultimately succeed,” he thought to himself, “She always goes beyond the minimum.”
She stood uneasily before him, naked from her bra to her anklets.
“I like your attitude today,” he announced, “so we won’t need the hairbrush. But beyond that, expect no mercy.”
She nodded tearfully, “Thanks John, that’s the most I could hope for.”
He rolled his chair back from the desk. Automatically, she walked around the desk to his side. He patted his lap, so she obediently put herself into the time-honored correctional position.
“Keep those thighs well apart,” he ordered, “I’ll need the maximum surface to spank.”
With a sad sigh she obeyed, showing him her most intimate charms, which he looked at with the same excitement that a doctor reserves for his patients. Similarly, Marilyn was feeling no particular sexual excitement, although her mind was occupied with thoughts of regret for her behavior, moderate embarrassment over her predicament, and unhappy anticipation of the pain about to come.
The reason for their mutual lack of sexual interest was simple. John and Marilyn had long loved each other, but they could never be lovers. You see, John and Marilyn were siblings.
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In the words of her long-departed mother, “Marilyn is the most loveable surprise we ever had.” That’s because Marilyn was a very late “change of life” baby, born years after her mother’s fertility was supposed to have departed. On the day she was born, John was already technically an adult.
As Marilyn grew up, her parents quickly aged. It had fallen to John to take care of their aging parents and to see to his kid sister’s discipline. So John had been spanking Marilyn since she was ten. To Marilyn, her older brother was part brother, part parent, and part Dutch uncle! Over the decades, that relationship had remained basically unchanged.
That’s why Marilyn found herself once again over John’s lap today.
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John had one more thing to say before he landed the first blow to Marilyn’s bottom, “I’ve checked the entire building, and double locked the doors. So all employees are gone, and even those with keys can’t return. It’s OK to make all the noise you want Marilyn.”
He heard her answer, spoken from down near her office’s carpet, “Thanks John. Do what you need to do then. I’ll understand, and I promise to learn from it.”
And he did! The next few minutes were hell for Marilyn.
No believer in “warm up” spanks, John’s first spanks were several nearly full-strength slaps delivered to the fleshiest summits of her twin orbs, designed to quickly crash through his “kid” sister’s defenses. As usual, it worked. Marilyn’s initial sobs turned to frank cries, which turned to squeals, which finally morphed into out-of-control shrieks.
John had told her to keep her thighs apart, a command he reserved for Marilyn’s most serious spankings. This was to be one of those! Marilyn did the best she could to cooperate, but soon she was kicking and squirming. Those thighs quickly slammed together when John landed his first spanks down below her sit-spots, but John instantly corrected her. Marilyn quickly, albeit reluctantly, obeyed. He also had to correct her several more times before he had finally spanked her buttocks and thighs to an impressively scarlet hue.
Once she almost managed to squirm entirely off of his lap, but he stopped to reposition her, and then continued his task with a new vigor.
Finally he paused. He allowed her time to regain a bit of control, and to remember why she was being punished. As he waited, he rubbed his hands together to assuage the sting in his right hand.
When her crying finally slowed a bit, he asked her a few questions about why she was being punished. At first she didn’t seem to hear the questions, but finally she began to supply satisfactory answers, although they were filtered through her continuing sobs, sniffles and hiccups.
John’s spankings followed a definite pattern, so they both knew that this spanking wasn’t yet over. He always ended with a last flurry of very hard spanks, but first he always paused to “bring her back,” mentally. The idea was to reinforce her “lesson” by forcing her to remember the reason for her spanking.
John shifted Marilyn slightly on his lap, freeing his right leg so he could use it to pinion her legs in place. His left arm snaked down to her side, where it grabbed her right wrist and held it down so that hand couldn’t reach back.
This is the moment when John usually picked up the hairbrush for use, and he glumly regretted his hasty decision to not use it. His right hand still stung, yet the hardest part of the spanking was about to start. He shook his hand to ensure proper blood flow, and then raised it high.
Slowly and deliberately, he delivered six full-strength spanks to each of Marilyn’s already red buttocks as she bucked and screamed. He shook his hand again to assuage the sting, and then delivered four more measured swats to each sit spot.
It was over, Marilyn had been punished! And with John, “punished” was always synonymous with “forgiven”. Carefully he helped her to her feet. Afraid that she might trip, he watched her closely as she bawled, danced, and rubbed her spanked bottom. When she was finally able to stand in one place, he held her close and allowed her a long cry on his shoulder.
When she finally began to regain control, he left her for a moment and dashed into the washroom. He returned with a damp cloth and a towel. As if she were a child, he lovingly washed her face. Next, he opened the bottom left drawer of Marilyn’s desk. There he found the formidable wooden hairbrush that he had earlier eschewed, and a jar of aloe cream. He grabbed the cream.
He sat in the chair again, and Marilyn automatically put herself across his lap again so that he could apply the soothing balm.
She jumped as the first chilly dollop of cream touched her bottom, but then relaxed and sighed as he spread it on. As he worked he asked, “Are you mad at me?”
“You know damn well I’m not,” the lady replied emphatically, “I deserved that and more. Now that it’s over, I can see that I really needed it too. Thanks John, thanks for everything you do.”
Finally off her brother’s lap, Marilyn gingerly dressed herself. John was still in the room, but she showed no more embarrassment than if she were in the lady’s locker room at the gym.
Still fast friends, they left the building together. They got into their separate cars and drove off to their separate lives.
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A few months later, the fortunes of Marilyn’s company looked definitely better. Several new customers were now aboard. Mr. Foster had long forgotten his mishandling at Marilyn’s hands, and now numbered among her most loyal customers. Marilyn had shed some bad management habits, and had become better organized and more focused on important details.
Therefore, John quietly left the company to spend more time with his wife and to take another try at retirement.
But one thing hadn’t changed. Marilyn needed someone in her life to “keep her straight,” but no man had ever appeared who seemed up to the job. Unless and until that “special” man appeared, Marilyn and John would continue to schedule the occasional private “turnaround meeting”. Each time, the level in that jar of aloe cream would get a bit lower, but Marilyn would find her tensions relieved, albeit at considerable expense to her bottom.
You might find John and Marilyn’s relationship strange, but it’s an arrangement that works for them. Who are we to judge?
© Guyspencer 2014
posted by guy at 1:09 PM
1 Comments:
I need some of that...
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