Hannah’s face drained of color. "Seriously? I've never had a spanking in my life!" Her attempt at outrage came out as a squeak. He didn't move or speak, just sat there smiling slightly. "No way." She stood to go, and then the realization of what was on the line, this once-in-a-lifetime job that literally seemed too good to be true hit her in the gut like a fist, flooring her. "Why a spanking?" She was whining now, fighting her impulse to run, and wanting so badly to see what would happen next. She thought of the couch in her friend’s apartment where she’d been staying. She had promised to pay her part of the rent, but she already owed way too much money. She had no idea of how she would pay for next month, or even buy gas for her car.
“Why don't you just SAY you gave me one! You must be some kind of pervert!" She snorted in what she intended to be derision, but it got strangled in her sinuses somehow and no sound escaped.
He didn't move, but somehow, he changed. It was if he became darker, or charged with electricity, or both. His expression hadn't altered, but she was suddenly aware, more intensely than any other time in her young life, that she was in danger. She felt the hairs rise on the nape of her neck, and her arms prickled with goose bumps. OK, not a pervert, she thought, starting to panic. She was frozen in place as if the floor had suddenly become magnetized, and she happened to be wearing the clunkiest steel boots ever invented.
"Come here," he suggested mildly. She remained where she was, teetering on the edge of bolting out of there like a startled doe, or staying to see what this man would do. Her knees felt weak. Her breathing had become shallow, and she felt her heart race in her chest. Yet still she thought this might be some kind of test. There wouldn't really be a spanking. An employer couldn't actually do that, could he? She was flustered to realize she couldn't be sure. She liked the idea of working for this man, but she couldn’t see how he could want her to work as a sexy coffee maid. Her! No way. But the possibility of finally digging out of her financial problems and paying her share of the rent on time (not to mention getting a decent phone) was overwhelming her urge to flee. She wanted this job. She needed this job.
Dreamlike, she walked forward, and stood before him at the couch. She wanted to lift her chin in defiance, but she was forced to look down at him as he watched her calmly.
"Good girl," he said, rewarding her choice. She felt her spirits rise in spite of herself, and chewed her lower lip. "If you're going to work for me, we're going to have to learn how to trust each other. I'm going to act as your actual Daddy, in every way. Including giving you regular, bare bottom spankings. Her blood was pounding in her ears. Bare bottom…? "I expect you to submit to these spankings, and call me 'Daddy' at all times."
He waited. A parade of emotions crossed her face - pride, humiliation, and defiance all competed for space, and then her eyes were too hot, burning with tears. That's what happens to people like me, she thought wretchedly. He's just going to get off on spanking me, and then send me on my way or worse -
"Hannah." She looked up, startled at the note of concern and warmth in his tone. He had spoken her name like a command. He leaned forward on the couch, and held his hand out to her palm up. Without thinking, she put her hand in his, and she was instantly steadied by the sheer size of his hand, and its warmth on her skin. Her hand was cold and clammy, she realized. A tear had fallen onto her cheek. "You're ready for this," he said. "You don't have to be afraid." He gently released her hand.
"Pull down your pants.”
She hesitated. Then she unslung her purse, folded the contract and slipped it inside, and then let it fall on the floor. She used both hands to pull down her leggings to the tops of her thighs. She was wearing her ratty blue underwear which should have been discarded a long time ago.
“Now pull down your panties,” he said.
Again, Hannah stood stock still as she balked at his command. She was already standing before a total stranger with her black leggings pulled down, and now he wanted her to expose her most private area to him, right there in his office. How could she? She wouldn’t! She would pull up her pants, throw the contract in his face, and walk out of there. And drive back to the apartment she couldn’t pay for. In the car she couldn’t buy gas for.
Slowly, she found the waistband of her boy shorts on both hips with her thumbs, and even more slowly, pulled them down to her leggings. She frantically checked the panel of the fabric that cradled her pussy, but didn’t see any tell-tale stains. Later, she would wonder if she would have left then if she had seen one.
“Now pull up your sweatshirt and hold it at your waist.”
Hannah slowly gathered the material at the bottom of her hoody and pulled it up, and then held it at her waist. She was completely naked from the waist down to mid-thigh now - this man could see everything. For a long minute, Dan didn’t move or speak. He wanted this first spanking to make an impression. The added humiliation of baring herself in front of him would make this experience unforgettable. She stood exposed, a brown patch of pubic hair obscuring her sex.
Dan let her stand there for a full minute. He let the tension build, watching her embarrassment grow until she was almost crying out loud. Finally, he stirred. “Lie over my lap,” he said.
Hannah stiffly climbed onto the couch, putting her knees on the cushion he had patted with his big hand, and then gingerly lowering herself over his lap, cringing as her backside was fully exposed for his inspection. She realized that he had strategically placed himself so that her elbows rested on an oversized pillow that was next to him. His right hand immediately found her bottom, and began smoothly circling on her skin. She flinched at the contact, but then forced herself to lie still.
"I'm going to give you a spanking with my hand now. I want you to lie still on my lap. Do you understand?"
She nodded, too miserable to say anything.
"Do you understand?" He repeated his question more firmly.
"Y-yes," she stammered. He waited. "Yes, Daddy," she said.
"Good girl," he said. He drew his hand back, and then it brought down across her right cheek, making full contact with a resounding slap.
"Oh!" Her head bobbed as she registered the effect of the swat.
"My girls get regular spankings," he said, pulling his hand back, and then bringing it down hard on left side of her bottom. The loud crack was instantly absorbed into the soundproofing material in the large room.
"OW!" She yelped in real protest. "Heeyyy, OW!!!" Her legs kicked up as the swats rained down on her bottom. She kicked her legs, yelling in protest, as he spanked her hard: Left, right, left, right across her cheeks, flattening the now red flesh with each spank. He used his whole hand to cover the lower part of her bottom at her sit spot, and gave her two quick hard swats. "AHHH!" She tried to twist her hips off his lap, but his left hand pressed into her back, like the giant paw of a bear pinning her to his lap.
“AHH! Please stop!” Her legs flailed as she tried to escape the torrent of smacks he was raining down on her poor bottom.
“You need a proper spanking,” he said. His hand kept striking her bottom in hard, rhythmic stokes, until she was shrieking in pain. He stopped spanking her, and covered her bottom with his hand against her red skin. Her bottom danced under his hand as if she was still expecting another barrage. She was sobbing as she lay across his lap. He gently massaged her bottom with his hand, and then let it rest on her skin as he gave her time to catch her breath.
"I'm going to measure you after we're done here, and then I'll outfit you with your uniform. I expect you to wear it exactly as I give it to you, including the underthings." She stopped squirming in his lap under the broad hand across her buttocks, and she registered this last piece of news after a second or two.
“O-OK,” she stammered between sobs.
"Yes, Daddy," he corrected patiently. He began spanking her again with a steady cadence. Smack! Pause. Smack! Pause. Desperately she threw her right hand back to ward off the blows, but he caught it expertly and pinned it to her back without breaking his rhythm.
"YES DADDY!" she yelled, but he kept spanking her at the same pace. "Ahhhh, ow!" She was crying again, and her legs had come up off the couch kicking in the air.
SMACK, SMACK, WHACK!!
"OW OW, AHHH," she cried, and it was over. He put his hand on her back, and gently massaged her skin.
"Good girl," he said soothingly. He let her lie there, crying softly as she lay across his lap. Her small bottom was the color of a ripe tomato, and he detachedly thought that she had an attractive figure, mentally picking out her uniform from what he had on hand. She was very slim, but he thought he had a uniform that might fit. He let her lie there until her crying slowed, and then stopped, all the while gently caressing her back. Finally, he removed his hand.
"You may stand up now," he said. Shakily, she pushed herself up off his lap, and stood beside the couch wiping her eyes. Her modesty had been the only thing she was thinking about before the spanking, but now it was the furthest thing from her mind. He produced a seamstress measuring tape in his left hand with the flourish of a magic trick, and stretched it taught. "Stand still, arms out," and he was measuring her arms, bust and hips. He seemed to memorize the numbers. "OK, you can pull your pants up. I'll be right back."
He stood, and walked out through the door he had entered and came back in before she had finished re-arranging herself. He was carrying a packet that contained an envelope, and a garment bag. She was still snuffling as she took the bundle. He pulled a tissue out of the box on his desk, and handed it to her, and then leaned across the desk to open a drawer and pull out a small bottle. "For your eyes," he said. She took the eye drops, and put a drop in each red eye, and instantly felt better. She was feeling a surge of relief , and for the first time since her father had left, a small ray of hope. Maybe this would work out, she thought.
"You will be in training for two weeks, for six hours a day, starting tomorrow, will that work?"
"Yes, Daddy," she said. She felt almost shy.
"Good. Come back here at 7:00 am tomorrow, and I'll see you then. Read over the materials in your initiation packet, please, everything about your pay, uniform, and my expectations are spelled out there. He grinned at her and she smiled back. He saw her to the door of the small office, and out into the Winter air. "Drive carefully," he said, as she walked out the door.