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Am I your idle secretary, losing the filing, failing to pass telephone messages on, typing letters full of mistakes? Shall I bend over a chair as you lift my skirt and pull down my panties? Will you show me who is the boss by applying a few firm strokes of the cane to my bare bottom, pausing after each to let the punishment linger? Perhaps I will then pay more attention to my work, if only until the next time!

I could be a naughty schoolgirl, late for lessons, always full of excuses for not handing in my homework, and never wearing proper regulation uniform. Did you catch me smoking in the 
changing room? Shall I be put over your knee and punished over my white cotton knickers?

Will you teach me to behave by pulling down the knickers for a hard spanking on my bare bottom?

Perhaps I am your lazy French housemaid, who never does the dusting properly, always forgetting to hoover under the sofas. Imagine telling me to bend over, and then raising my skirt, as you prepare to deal with me. Think of me counting each stroke out loud, my bottom smarting from your leather paddle.

Am I your recalcitrant ward, always staying out late, and mixing with the wrong sort of boys? Summon me to stand before you dressed only in a long white Victorian nightdress. Watch as the nightdress is lifted, and I anxiously await my punishment. See me rubbing my bottom, red from your soundly applied leather strap.

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