Corporate Punishment

Here are 2 questions, I get asked.
Q: Do I have spanking experiences on all my photo shoots/modelling trips?
A: No, on most shoots and modelling trips I don’t get that lucky. Normally, its unsocial hours at airports, dawn wake-ups and long days. But, I get to visit some very lovely places, and meet really pleasant people. I always try to take some time off, if somewhere nice, even stay over a day or so at my own expense. You can miss so much of the world if it’s a round of airports, hotels, and locations only. You get home without any memories of the place.

I remember a shoot on an island in the Indian Ocean. It was paradise. At the same time there was another party of models at the hotel, including our very own Kate Moss. I know the woman has done it all before, but she arrived in a limo’ and disappeared into her room, only to emerge each dawn to go to the shoot. When she returned it was back to the room, where she stayed. Her balcony doors remained firmly shut. On the last day, it was straight back from the shoot, and limo’ to the airport. Ok, she had a luxury suite, and flew first class, but she might have been in Belfast for all she saw of the place. There weren’t even many of the press about, so that wasn’t the problem. No wonder she has such bad skin! (All right! miaow, miaow!). Anyway, if I get any spanking action while modelling, you get to hear about it!

Q: Do I get spanked on other occasions.
A: Well actually yes, apart from gentlemen who visit me, there are other occasions when I unexpectedly find myself over a knee, panties round my ankles, being given some sound discipline. It was because of this question, I thought that you might like to hear about one such occasion, resulting in my bottom getting some well deserved attention. So read on about my Corporate Punishment.



Geoff is the PR manager for a company that sells office equipment. His company have an annual event where the sales force receive awards for achieving targets. It takes place at a hotel in London, on a Friday night, with the awards being presented after a dinner. Geoff asked if I would help by presenting the awards. It all seemed a bit of a lark, and the fee was attractive, so I was up for it.

The evening arrived, and I turned up in a designer dress (borrowed, of course, models and actresses never actually buy these clothes!). The event started with drinks before dinner, and there was quite an atmosphere of expectancy. What was so special? Who could get exited about an award of a ‘Weekend for Two in Wigan’.

Now, as you all know, I am a very liberal minded girl. If a gentleman makes nice comments about my clothes, or my figure, or even discreetly pats my bottom, I take it as a compliment. Even a mildly saucy comment whispered in my ear, may well get a smile and wink in return. But there was this one guy, who apart from disguising his bad breath with substantial quantities of Stella Artois, was totally lacking of anything like gentlemanly conduct. A handful of my, and several other ladies’, derrieres in vice-like grip does not count as a discreet pat. Hey, we like guys to notice our cleavages, but pressing his nose in so close did nothing to commend him to us girls. His poor wife did not know what to do.

Once we went in to dinner I was able to escape to the safety of the company chairman’s table. It was his big do, and enjoyed playing the host. He was really very polite and charming, and told some funny stories which no doubt got trotted out every year. His wife was very pleasant, but just a teensy bit old for Spandex ( Ok, Miaow, again, I know that deserves a good spanking for!). The dinner was typical of a London hotel, predictable and bland, but yours truly tucked in anyway. People are always astonished at the amount of food I eat, and yet keep my figure. Its all those hours of running and working out at the gym that does it, boys.

The dinner finished, and the speeches started. It was the usual load of self congratulation and dodgy humour, so we slipped off to organise the prizes. When the last words were spoken everyone subsided into a vaguely alcoholic trance, broken only by guffaws at yet more unfunny exchanges.

The moment for the presentations arrived. We stood on a raised platform, at one end of the room. The evening’s compere, who looked like a younger Brucie, started off the carnival with some smooth words of introduction. The compere introduced each prize, describing its category. As the name of the lucky winner was called, they came forward onto the platform and I gracefully gave them a full, beaming smile, and delivered the coveted award.

When all the prizes were gone, the compere rounded up by thanking everyone bar the office cleaner. Finally he said, “ I know you would like me to thank the lovely Catherine for bringing such grace to the prize giving”. Well, at that moment my outrageous sense of humour got the better of me. So I walked up to the microphone, and with a big smile, started speaking. I don’t remember the exact words, but it was along these lines:-
“ I would like to thank the company for inviting me. However I feel the evening would not be complete without one extra award”. There was silence. “ In a class of his own, no one could beat Charlie Rankin for the ‘Slob of the Year’ award!” There was uproar. A number of people, and most of the wives, stood up and applauded, others just laughed or cheered, there were whistles and cat-calls. The chairman and sales director went purple, the chairman’s wife rocked with laughter, but, more worrying, Geoff looked like a condemned man. Dear reader, it was clearly time for me to make a hasty retreat, so I headed for the cloakroom, and home.

Now, if this was a Victorian novel, following the fall from grace of the heroine, there would be a chapter called ‘The Consequences’. And consequences there were.

The following morning I was not surprised to get a phone call from Geoff. Apparently, after I left there was complete chaos. The chairman, who was beside himself with indignation, very nearly fired Geoff on the spot. But the chairman’s wife, using her long-experienced, and no doubt wily skills, managed to persuade the old boy to note of the way the staff had reacted. He was still annoyed but took the matter to heart. Now I have always been told that the most influential person in any company is the chairman’s wife! How true that is! Geoff went on to say that my prank was highly irresponsible, and nearly cost him dear. Sensing a need to make amends, I suggested he come over that afternoon.

Having just returned to the flat after a run I was still in my Lycra top and shorts. I had allowed enough time for a quick shower before Geoff was due. But he arrived early. I opened the door and he entered, pushing the door shut behind him. I sensed that your favourite girl was about to get her come-uppance! Afraid so! Taking my arm he led me into the flat and with few words I was pulled over his lap. Taking a firm grip of my waist he began spanking me, quite moderately at first, but then over several minutes, building up the force of each impact. Before long I could feel my bottom getting very warm. Any attempt at movement was prevented by his strong grip, and now each time his hand landed, I let out an “Ow!”. I was grateful to still have my running shorts on as they reduced the sting of his hand. When eventually freed, I stood up and gave myself a good rub. My botty was really burning, and I have to confess it was really pleasurable! I felt a bit smug. Well, that’s it then, all forgiven, tea and bickies, and we all go home! But, I was wrong, oh yes indeed. Geoff announced that I deserved a more serious and effective punishment. Now that, I admit, made me quite anxious. Tilting my head on one side, I gave him my very best pleading eyes, but to no avail.

“Right my girl” said Geoff, “You deserve a good caning”

Well, as my readers know, the mere mention of the word ‘cane’ and my anxiety reaches new levels. My stomach gets full of butterflies and my knees quiver. Its always been like this, since the very first time. At Geoff’s instruction I obediently bent over the coffee table, as he went over to the corner where the implements are kept. He returned carrying a thick cane. ( As a matter of interest, this is a cane made by John of Baker St, in London. Its a work of art, as all John’s canes are. Each is expertly crafted, and carefully adjusted for feel and length, to give a near perfect balance, which helps the accuracy.) Geoff placed the cane on the table.

“ A good caning on the bare bottom” said Geoff.

Moving behind me, I felt him grip the waistband of my lycra running shorts. Stretching the waistband, he peeled the clingy fabric over the cheeks of my bottom, and down the thighs, until finally, the shorts fell to my ankles. I was wearing cotton panties, and I felt the material slip away as these too were pulled down my thighs, and joined the shorts at my ankles. (Even in moments like this, dear reader, the ritual of taking down my panties or knickers always gives yours truly a real buzz! )

But, as Geoff had said, this was to be the more serious and effective punishment I deserved.

‘Serious’, too right! When I am getting the cane it is serious, the impact of rattan on the curves of my sweet derriere is a very serious matter!

‘Effective’, on the button there as well. In a very short while, that cane would magic up all manner of regrets and remorse about my behaviour! (Let me tell you, that when in schoolgirl role, and the headmaster is caning me, I experience real regrets about not doing the make-believe homework! Canes effective, oh yes, very effective!)

‘Deserved’, well, not so sure. Ok, ok, guys, so I probably deserved it! And to be honest I’m lucky not to be touching my toes for this one!

No escaping it, I was about to experience the profound effect of one of John’s stout canes, firmly applied to my completely bare, and very exposed, bottom. The butterflies in my tummy were now doing summersaults in formation!

Let me explain something. With other commitments, I don’t get spanked as often as I would wish. Some girls get lots of spanking ‘exercise’, and this helps them build up a high tolerance to the pain of being spanked. When getting a sound spanking, strapping, paddling or caning, I really feel it, and rely on my considerable natural enthusiasm for submitting to the noble art of corporal punishment. It’s a real pleasure for this girl, if a punishment leaves a red and hot bottom. Now, the cane is the ultimate implement, and I find it supremely painful to take. My squeals, ouch’s, and gasps, are all 100% genuine. But when its over, the red stripes, with a feeling of soreness, is just the ticket! On the other hand bruises and weals, just don’t do it for me, at all. I leave that sort of thing to girls who get their ‘exercise’ daily. Gentlemen who visit me say my genuine response to punishment is what makes me different. That doesn’t stop them giving me a very sound spanking though!

To return to my account of Corporate Punishment. Here I am, shorts and panties around my ankles, nervously awaiting my fate. As Geoff adjusts his position, I can feel the light brush of the cane against my bare botty. Any second now that cane will have quite a different feel, so my eyes were glued to his shadow on the floor. He paused, I waited for what seemed ages. Then the shadow changed as his arm drew back. I forced myself to relax just before the first stroke landed, across both cheeks. I let out a gasp, then another, then another. I was mightily relieved that after every 3 strokes, he paused to rub my bottom. (Now, dear reader, here is a tip. If you are punishing a girl, with hand or implement, stop to give a rub regularly. We really appreciate it and can cope with longer punishments).

After twelve accurate strokes, each accompanied by the appropriate sounds of my discomfort, I felt duly chastised. After Geoff left, I could not resist a look at my bottom in the mirror. Clear red stripes and a hot stinging feeling. They were still there after my shower, and I just stood looking at them. As Geoff had said it was a most effective and deserved punishment!

Next would be the chapter in the book, now that your heroine, was duly chastened, called ‘Redemption’.

The following Monday the company chairman sent for Charlie Rankin, who was well and truly carpeted. Then the chairman having regained his sense of humour, playfully suggested to Geoff that I deserved a good spanking! (cheeky!) Geoff joked that perhaps the chairman would like to do it himself! (Now, that is a good idea!) Even the chairman’s wife suggested that I present a ‘Slob of the Year’ award, next year just to keep the lads on their best behaviour. ( I start to warm to this woman, she can wear as much Spandex as she likes!) So all ended well, dear reader, but it probably won’t be long before yours truly is getting into trouble all over again!

To see some pictures of me, just go to my web page by clicking on www.naughtycatherine.org
There you will find all my contact details