Mia Culper

Mia stared at the memo on her desk: "You will report to my office at 6:30 sharp. We have something to discuss. Mr Richardson."

She felt a pang of fear deep in the pit of her stomach. She glanced up at the clock. 6:20. She had been rereading the memo all day. She hadn't even seen Mr Richardson once. She had hoped to cross paths with him, to see if she could discern what he wanted to see her for, but he had been out of the office all day.

At 6:30, everyone else would be gone. The firm would be deserted. She had a nervous suspicion as to why he wanted to see her after hours. She swallowed as the minutes ticked by, slowly, agonisingly slowly.

Finally, she rose from her desk. She smoothed her short, black skirt down and straightened her burgundy jacket. Her fingers were trembling as she picked a bit of lint off her lapel. She walked slowly to Mr Richardson's office and knocked softly.

"Come in."

Her hand was so clammy she almost couldn't grip the doorknob. She opened the door and entered, trying to act nonchalant. "Yes, sir? You wanted to see me?" she asked, hoping the tremble in her voice wasn't apparent.

"Yes, Mia, please come inside. Have a seat." He was sitting at his desk and he gestured to the chair in front of him.

Mia sat down, self-consciously smoothing her skirt down over her thighs. They sat in silence for a few moments, Mia trying to avoid her boss's eyes by pretending to examine the books on his shelf. Mr Richardson stared at her calmly, waiting for her to speak.

"What is it you wanted to see me about?" she finally asked, her worried suspicion all but confirmed by hi; cool silence.

"I was merely wondering," he began. "If you knew anything about what's happened to all the petty cash. Mia swallowed. He knew.

"I seem to have, over the past six months, misplaced the better part of a thousand dollars. Any idea how this came to be?"

Mia squirmed in her chair. Maybe he didn't know it had been her.

Maybe he was simply asking, thinking she might know who was responsible. Or maybe he did know and was waiting to see if she'd confess. She stared at him blankly, wondering if her eyes betrayed her guilt.

Mr Richardson continued to watch her calmly, waiting for her to answer.

"N-no, sir," she mumbled. She hadn't known which way she was going to answer until she opened her mouth. She instantly regretted the lie, but now she was stuck with it.

"You have no idea?"

"No."

He eyed her sternly. "Are you sure?" he asked slowly.

Mia felt the knots in her stomach tightening. Why did she lie? She knew she had only dug herself a bigger hole, but she couldn't stop. "I don't know what happened."

Mr Richardson nodded thoughtfully. "Very well, then. I will tell you what happened." He picked up a sheet of paper from a stack on his desk and held it out to Mia. "This is the record of all the illicit withdrawals you have made from the petty cash fund over the past six months. As you can see, it adds up to quite a lot."

Mia's mouth was as dry as cotton. She blinked at the paper. Then she lowered her eyes.

"What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" She wrung her hands in her lap. "I - I'm sorry..."

Mr Richardson shook his head. "I'm afraid "I'm sorry' is not good enough. I want to know why you felt it necessary to steal from me."

Mia blushed with shame. She didn't know what to say. "I was going to pay it back," she blurted out, knowing it was a feeble excuse.

"Oh? And when were you planning to pay it back?" "I don't know..."

"Don't you think it's more likely that you assumed that because I didn't call attention to the missing money right away, that I didn't know about it? You thought you could get away with it, didn't you?"

Mia looked away. He knew everything, all right.

"Hmmm? Young lady, I asked you a question."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

Mia cringed. "Yes, sir," she murmured.

Mr Richardson glanced down at the paper again, then back up at his secretary. "As you can see from the dates, I gave you ample opportunities to replace the money. Didn't I?"

"Yes, sir," Mia admitted, miserable.

"Why didn't you just come to me if you needed money?" he asked gently. "I don't know." She fussed with the edge of her skirt like a little girl. "What do you think I should do about this?"

Mia swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You realise that this is embezzlement and that you could go to jail and even prison for this?" Her heart was pounding so loud she couldn't believe Mr Richardson didn't hear it. He rested his hand on the phone. "Do you have anything to say before I call the police?" he asked.

She gasped and jumped up, putting her hands over his. "Please don't turn me in!" she begged. "I promise I'll pay you back!"

He hesitated. "Why should I let you go? I've already replaced the money. I risked my own job in covering for you. What do I stand to gain by not turning you in?"

Mia narrowed her eyes suspiciously, misinterpreting his innuendo. "I'm not a slut," she said. "I'd rather go to jail than ..."

Mr Richardson smiled thinly. "I am hardly thinking of sex. You need to be taught a lesson about stealing and I don't believe that having sex with you is the way to teach you anything. No, my dear, I have something far more severe in mind."

She sighed with relief. "What? Oh, I'll do anything!"

"Did your father ever spank you as a child?"

Mia blinked. "What?"

"Answer me."

She stared at him, bewildered. "Yes... Why? What has that got to do with -"

"Mia, you have behaved like a spoiled child since you first came to work for me. I hired you against my better judgment and now you've proven to me that I should have listened to my initial instincts. Your father has obviously failed to instil any sense of morality in you and if I simply let you go, you will go on stealing from other employers. I feel it is my moral obligation to teach you once and for all that stealing is wrong. Therefore, unless you want to go to jail, you will submit to whatever punishment I decide to mete out to you. Is this arrangement acceptable to you?"

Her eyes widened as she began to realise what he intended to do. "Oh, please, sir..." "Mia, either you agree or I call the authorities. It's that simple. Which is it?"

She agonised for a few moments, shifting her weight back and forth on her feet. Finally, she bowed her head in silent resignation. "All right," she moaned. "I'll do whatever you say."

"Very good. Now go and shut the door."

Slowly, as though her feet were made of lead, she went to the door and pushed it shut with a meek little click. She turned back to face her boss and saw he was taking off his jacket.

"Come here, Mia. Stand right here." He pulled a straight-backed chair from beside the desk and sat down. Mia stood before him as he began to lecture her. "You have shown deplorable conduct for a 24-year-old girl, Mia. I think your father would be quite ashamed to know his little girl is a thief. Don't you?"

Mia cringed, lowering her head.

"Don't look at the floor; look at me. I want you to tell me exactly what you did, young lady." She looked up and met his eyes. They were as hard as flint. "I stole from you," she managed.

Mr Richardson cocked his head, as though listening for something.

"...sir," Mia added.

"That's better. What else did you do?"

Mia shrugged, humiliated.

"You betrayed my trust," Mr Richardson said. "I trusted you with access to that money, and not only did you steal it, which was bad enough; you violated my trust in you."

The girl felt tears standing in her eyes. He sounded just like her father. She remembered the time she had been caught shoplifting in the candy store when she was twelve. Her father had reprimanded her just like this. Then he had spanked her. Severely, too. She knew Mr Richardson would not be merciful, any more than her father was. "I'm sorry" was all she could say.

Mr Richardson regarded her solemnly. "I am going to give you a sound spanking, young lady. Just like your father used to. Perhaps that will teach you some sense of morality. After that, I will judge whether or not your attitude displays satisfactory regret and repentance. If I feel you are not sufficiently contrite, I will not hesitate to add to your punishment. Is this understood?"

Mia nodded miserably. "Yes, sir," she whimpered. "Very well, then." He took Mia by the hand and pulled her down across his lap. She struggled feebly.

"Please..." she moaned.

He ignored her supplication. "I have shown you nothing but kindness, Mia. I saw a real potential in you. You needed a firm hand and I took you in and I feel I have been more than fair to you. But now I see that you have taken advantage of my generosity. You have been my confidante and trusted aide-de-camp for almost a year, during which time you have apparently decided that my generosity was not enough. Do you have any idea how disappointed I am in you, young lady?"

Mia gritted her teeth. She swallowed the lump in her throat and suppressed a guilty whimper.

"Well, hopefully, you will learn something from this. I hate to have to do this, but it is for your own good." With that, he gently raised her skirt and ran his hand over her panty-clad bottom. She shivered visibly and he delivered the first sharp slap to her rear. She squealed and began to struggle again. "Now, now, let's have none of that," he said calmly, holding her firmly in place. He smacked her again. And again. She yelped and struggled.

"Oh, please..." she whined. "Please don't do this!"

He stopped and looked at her. "Mia, do you still have to be reminded of the proper way to address me?" "I'm sorry, sir!" she said quickly. "Please, sir..."

"I'm afraid it's a little late for that. I can already see that I need to take sterner measures with you." He tugged her panties down to her knees before she could resist. She wailed with indignation.

"Sir! You can't do this to me!" She sounded like a child.

"Mia, you are acting like a spoiled little brat. I have no intention of stopping your punishment until I hear an apology, delivered with the proper respect, and I feel that it is truly sincere and contrite. Is that understood?"

She nodded miserably. "Yes, sir..."

"Very well." He continued to spank her on her bare bottom. She kicked and writhed over his lap, protesting her treatment with heart-rending cries and whimpers. But Mr Richardson was merciless. He delivered a severe volley of hard slaps to her white bottom, watching as he raised a rosy blush on her insolent cheeks. It was delightful to watch her struggle. He had reduced her to a little girl again and her face was as red as her backside. Such a treat to get to be her daddy for a while.

Mia fought back the tears, her bruised ego giving her the strength to remain stubborn. She endured the spanking with as much dignity as she could, and when he finally stopped, she was on her feet, adjusting her dress immediately. She met his eyes and said, "I'm sorry, SIR, for having stolen from you."

Mr Richardson smiled at the venom dripping from her words. He had known it would not be enough. But he wanted to let her think she had won for a little while longer. "Mia, I don't think you sound remorseful at all. Did I not teach you anything?"

"I said 'sir!'" she snapped, her pride stinging more than her bottom.

He nodded. "I can see you need another lesson."

Instantly, she dropped her haughty demeanour. "I'm sorry, sir!" "It's too late for that, young lady. Now I want you to bring me your hairbrush."

"What?" she gasped.

"You heard me." He met her gaze unflinchingly. "Bring it here at once." He watched the emotions playing over her face, and then reached for the telephone. "Or if you would prefer..."

"No! I will!" She scurried back to her desk and returned shortly with her wide, wooden hairbrush. She made the pilgrimage from his door to his desk as long as possible, and once there, he took the brush from her trembling hands.

He sat down again and motioned her across his lap. She stamped her feet. "Sir, please..." she whined again.

"Now, young lady!"

She jumped at the sharpness in his voice and obeyed almost at once. He raised her skirt and lowered her panties again and laid the wooden hairbrush against her reddened backside. He lifted it and brought it down with a loud smack. Mia cried out. He struck her again. Again. And again. She struggled and kicked, wailing loudly, not caring if anyone heard her. She tried hard to keep her tears in check. She didn't want him to see her cry. But as he continued to spank her, she felt the tears roll down her cheeks. And after a few more hard strokes, she was sobbing like a child.

Finally, he stopped. "There, there," he said gently, allowing her to get to her feet and to adjust her dress once more. "It's all over now."

Mia sniffled and scrubbed her eyes with her fists, just like a little girl. "I'm - I'm sorry, sir," she whimpered. "I'll never do it again."

Mr Richardson smiled kindly at her, stroking her tear-streaked face. "I know, Mia," he said. "I believe you." He held out her hairbrush and she took it, blushing. He ignored her embarrassment. "Now, tomorrow, you will report to me first thing in the morning. You will remind me of what you have done and of how you were punished for it. And you will pay me back every dollar. Every Friday evening, you will see me after hours to return some of my money. This will continue until the full amount is replaced. If you fail to be able to make a payment, then we will simply repeat what transpired here today. Do I make myself clear, young lady?"

Mia nodded, cowed and contrite. "Yes, sir," she whispered. "Good girl. You are now dismissed."

She bowed her head slightly in deference to him and scurried back out of his office. Mr Richardson smiled. He knew she would pay him back. One way or another.

THE END

Mia Culper - A story by Tasha Geller

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