(Our story began here: http://auntcarlascorner.blogspot.com/2013/02/miss-amelias-punishment-letter.html)
Once our clients had left, Aunt Carla simply beckoned me with her index finger and disappeared inside her studio. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I arose and followed.
I crept into Auntie's inner sanctum to find her seated on the settee that she uses to dole out spankings. This wasn't looking good at all.
"Auntie," I began, "I'm sorry I..."
"Hush, child," she replied rather harshly. "Go and change into your punishment attire this instant!"
My face went bright red. I do indeed have my own set of punishment clothes in the changing room: a thong, a pair of panties and a camisole, all neatly stored in Aunt Carla's cabinet. This was by no means the first time I had to change into them; Auntie makes her displeasure known in a different manner than most employers. The fact that I am her niece makes it that much more natural for her to put me over her knee, as she has been doing so since I was a naughty little girl!
I made a rather desperate sound in the back of my throat, hoping for a miraculous reprieve. Needless to say, none was forthcoming. Under Auntie's withering gaze, I crept off to the changing room to become properly attired for my comeuppance.
A minute or two later (I rushed, as I know how much Auntie hates to be kept waiting), I crept out of the room, barefoot and wearing a pair of panties and a camisole that were deliberately a size too small. My face was blazing red as I walked over to my angry employer seated on the settee. I noticed, to my extreme discomfiture, that she had placed both her hairbrush and wooden spoon on the end table to her left. The last time I'd felt those two implements, sitting had been a challenge for two days! I was an unhappy little girl indeed as I stood before her, anticipating her order to place my hands on my head.
"So, young lady," she began, "apparently you thought I wasn't listening in earlier. Is that so?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I replied miserably.
"So you're aware I overheard every unkind comment you made to a paying client, jeopardizing the likelihood of the two of them returning for repeat business?"
"Yes, Auntie." I was so ashamed!
"Well, how do you suppose an employer who was not a relative would handle a situation such as this?"
"Um...She would...um, probably fire me, Ma'am."
"Precisely!" she thundered. Then, softening her voice, she went on.
"You may be pleased to know I do not intend to do so."
"Oh, thank you, Auntie!" I gushed, but she held up a hand to stop me.
"You may wish to wait before thanking me, young lady. While I cannot fire my sister's only daughter, I do not intend to let you off easily, not at all, in fact. In addition to the long, hard spanking you have coming if you decide to stay on, you shall also write a letter to the young lady you insulted, asking her forgiveness. You shall also send a similar letter to her mother and to Mr. Aristotle, expressing your sorrow at having acted so unprofessionally, and asking them to give the Studio another chance."
Things had definitely gone from bad to worse for me! The thought of apologizing to Cyndi was abhorrent to me and writing an apology letter to her mother and stepfather would be only slightly less shameful. But the worst was yet to come!
"You should know that your antics could well hurt my business over the long term," Auntie continued, "as the ladies may well speak ill of the establishment irrespective of your apology. For that reason, you shall write an open letter on my website detailing your offense and its coincident punishment."
I gasped out loud!
"Oh please, Auntie, not that!" I begged. "The clientele would lose all respect for me!"
"I actually disagree with you on that point," my aunt replied. "If anything, I would think their respect for you would increase, as you would be demonstrating personal fortitude and a willingness to take responsibility for your actions. Nevertheless, the choice is yours: accept my terms and stay on as my employee, or go back to being simply my beloved niece. I'll give you a minute to decide."
My face was burning up, and I was beginning to perspire. To write a detailed letter about my offense and punishment would be humiliating in the extreme, but what about having to resign? How would I explain it to my parents? To future potential employers? If I were forced to resign from a job working for a close relative, what would that tell them about me and my prospects as an employee? After the longest sixty seconds of my life, I made my decision.
"I accept your terms, Aunt Carla," I declared with more fortitude than I felt.
"An excellent, adult decision, dear," my aunt replied, visibly relieved. "Over my knee you go, then."
(Note to Aunt Carla: The fact that my available time to write in the evenings has made it necessary to divide the story into three parts has only served to make my punishment that much more memorable. I'm sure your readers (especially your clients and even MORE so those I have spanked) are 'on the edge of their seats' to know what happened next. I just want you to know that this exercise in humility has not been lost on me, and that I will be a much more professional worker for you in the future. - Amelia)
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