Chapter XI

It was a bad week. Each morning, at the beginning of my work day, I was asked into Mr. Gladstone's office, bent over his knee, and given twenty rough spankings. It was different than the first time: twice as many spankings, but he didn't pull down my underwear or use the gel that made my skin hot. Even so, twenty spankings through my cotton panties had me in tears. My ass was sore for hours afterward. I couldn't think clearly or focus on my work. By the time the end of the week came around, I couldn’t hold myself together.

But it wasn't any better for Sam. Somehow, they found out that I'd been drinking their rum. Maybe Sam didn't clean the glasses well enough, or maybe one of the maids saw me stumbling up the stairs to my room that night. And apparently it was Sam's fault, because I shouldn't be in the kitchen at all. Since then, Sam had been wearing a different uniform. Something a little less "formal" and a little more... uh... unprofessional. The skirt was short, so short that I could see her black-lace regulation maid panties when I followed her up the stairs. The chest was low-cut, clearly designed to objectify her. But Sam had always been a little slutty. The true punishment was the corset, which was tied so tight she would see stars if she sat down. After three days, her legs and feet hurt more than my ass.

Friday morning, I couldn't get out of bed. I knew what was waiting for me. Another day of spankings, of shame, of failure... and Sam was at my bedside struggling to stand. "Nat, please... I can't do this right now. Please get up..." "I'm sick," I muttered. "Nat!" She was out of breath from raising her voice. The guilt was too much. I slid out of bed on shaky feet and tried not to cry. "I'm up, I'm up..."

"Come on, you." Sam tried to sound encouraging, but her words were breathless and her eyes were dull - lack of energy? Deoxygenation? Who could tell. She picked out something for her best friend to wear, and maybe she'd been dazed when she did it, but the panties she presented were thickly padded. Had she even noticed?

I had stuffed those panties in the far back of my drawer weeks ago. She couldn't have pulled them out by accident, right? But after doing laundry, Sam would put my fresh clothes in the back of my drawers, so I would cycle through them. "Sam, I..." But I stopped myself. Padded underwear... thoughts drifted to my daily spanking. The pain on my backside. The tears on my cheeks. The shame all morning. The fear all afternoon. What if... "Um... thanks."

"Let's get you dressed, okay?" An act that Sam was embarrassingly getting quite good at, even when corseted within an inch of passing out. If she noticed the padded panties, then she didn't say a word about them. "You don't wanna be late."

"How much longer do you have to wear that outfit, anyway?" I asked, a little worried about Sam, as she had me step into the underwear. I had forgotten how thick they were... maybe this plan would actually work.

"Hopefully today is the last day," she said with exhaustion. The only time she was allowed to take it off was while she slept. "As long as I don't have any further ‘indiscretions’, anyway." Somehow, Sam still hadn't discovered her best friend’s daily spankings, so her own punishments seemed to be far and away the most unpleasant.

After getting dressed for work, I gave Sam a hug, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Then I took the car into the office. By now, I'd gotten used to having a driver. I always sat in the back of the expensive black sedan, playing on my phone or checking my emails, until I got to the office. But today was different. Today, I couldn't stop worrying about the spanking...

"Good morning, Natalie." Mr. Gladstone greeted the girl in his office and he did every morning - peering up from a newspaper as though print media meant anything other than a sign of status and timelessness. "Are you here for your penance?" Like this was a new thing or something.

"Yes sir," I muttered, taking one last look out at the office. It was just after nine in the morning and half the staff peeked their heads above the cubical to watch me go in. I closed the door and shuffled over to Mr. Gladstone as I had every other day this week. Already, I was trembling.

Like always, Mr. Gladstone put his newspaper down and turned his seat to one side, allowing for the compliant office girl to crawl up over his lap. Obedience was important to him, and Natalie being so... pliant? It was most satisfying. He said nothing of her padded underwear, like he didn't notice - although he certainly did. In-fact, he even spanked her more softly; but did so in a way that it was impossible for her to tell he was taking it easy on her. Voluntarily wearing these panties? This was good. Over the next few days he'd take it soft on her, and then slowly increase in force until this padding wasn't enough and she sought out a thicker solution. And when she did? Cora would be there. "Twenty." He concluded. How the time flew by when making plans!

"Thank you, Sir," I muttered, standing up and flattening out my dress. I wasn't crying, though my cheeks were burning red hot. It didn't really hurt at all, but damn was it embarrassing... I thought he might pull my underwear down - like that first day - or he might hit harder to try to make up for it. But he didn't say a word about the underwear! Maybe he didn't notice. But they were pretty obvious... "I'll see you in this office on Monday," he told me, and a chill ran up my spine. "M-Monday? But I thought..."

"I think we can both agree that this has been good for you: you haven't made any further mistakes since we began your disciplinary therapy, so I think you'll agree that it's been a very good move for your conduct. Unless you think otherwise, Natalie?" It was a trick question: agree and get more spankings, or disagree and prove she needed more spankings.

I looked at him with surprise, with fear, and then down at my feet in shame. "Y-yes sir... I... I guess you're right." So he would spank me next week too? Would this be every week from now on? I felt tears in my eyes, then I reminded myself about my new solution. As long as I stayed in these padded panties, I'd be fine. But the problem was... I only had one pair. "I... should get back to work," I muttered. Mr. Gladstone nodded and I left his office.

* * * * *

The phone rang on Mr. Gladstone's desk an hour later. "Mr. Gladstone, your wife is on the line," Prin said through the earpiece. "Good, put her on please." A click.

"Hi darling," Cora said with a smile so bright Ando could hear it through the phone. "Guess who I just got a call from?"

"I'm sure I'll never ever guess, dear." Ando replied, a little bit aloof and distracted sounding as always, although his interest was very clearly piqued. He obviously knew what the call was regarding. "What did our little doll have to say for herself, I wonder?"

"Well, it seems like the one pair of training panties I bought her isn't enough. Was she wearing them today?" "Mmhmm. To lessen her spankings, I believe." "It seemed to have worked," Cora said with excitement. "Though that's not what she told me, of course. Something about... anxiety, not wanting to cause more trouble at work. Her accident was a while ago, but it seems to have left a lasting impression."

"Splendid. I'm going to take it easy on her for a few days, and then increase the punishment level substantially, leading her further down that rabbit hole. She barely bat an eyelid at the idea of her spankings continuing in perpetuity - such an adaptable little sprite, our Natalie." Ando sounded... proud. Of himself, yes. Of his wife, of course. But also of Natalie. She was coming along so well!

"Uh huh, and anytime she wears her training pants to bed, I'll switch the audiotapes. Rather than feeding into her anxiety and nervousness, I'll put on something to help her feel calm and relaxed. Sooner or later, she'll make the association herself." Cora sounded so happy on the phone, her words were running together to keep up with her thoughts. "She's such a wonderful girl, Ando. She's so sweet and caring and adorable. That dress she wore yesterday, she picked that out herself!"

"We're doing such good work here, my dearest: we've taken a pariah and helped to give her a second chance at life. Without our contribution, could you imagine where she'd be?" The two of them were on the phone, Ando and Cora, discussing Natalie like proud parents. And really, that's the closest thing to what they were.

"What about Sam?" Ando asked. "Oh, I'm sure it's taken care of," Cora said without a single change in tone. "After this past week, I doubt Sam will let Natalie do anything for herself again. After all, it was Sam's faith in Natalie that got her punished. Next time, Sam will be getting the drinks. She'll be making her food, changing her clothes, washing her laundry... and our little girl will feel like the princess she is."

"You know, my dear, I had my doubts about the friend, but I do think Samatha has a promising future in servitude, don't you? You should consider her, should your future plans to acclimate Nattie to a wet nurse lifestyle ever come to pass." Spoken like a true man.

"Like I would share my little girl with some big-busted tramp," Cora said with irritation on the other line, and then, much happier, "but it's something to think about! I'm going to head to the store and put in an order for more training panties, then I'll assign them to Sam for washing. I wonder if she knows yet."

"See to it that she knows what they are and for whom; the sooner Samantha knows, the more leverage we're going to have. Oh my sweet, I have another call to attend to; I'll see you tonight. Thank you for being such a loving, caring, wonderful wife." And then, with a pause and a smile. "And mother to be.”