First, the standard disclaimer: What follows is a work of FICTION.

If you are incapable of distinguishing fact from fiction, STOP

READING. Go tune in to something harmless and innocuous. This is

NOT FOR YOU. Second, this story features women being exhibited,

humiliated, and disciplined. If this offends you, please leave now.

Really, we don't mind. Finally, of course, the obligatory warning:

Do not try this at home. The activities in this story are carried

out by highly trained fictional characters, with many years of

experience. Attempting any of this in real life will likely result

in embarrassment, incarceration, or being forced to install OS/2

on all your computers. You have been warned. For the rest of you

perverts, those who are still with me, enjoy!

Also, this story is copyrighted by The Chairman in 2006. You may

post this story in other venues, with three caveats: One, if you

do, The Chairman requests the courtesy of an email, with a

URL, so he can see where his work is being used. Two, if you wish to

post this on a pay site, contact The Chairman to make arrangements.

Three, you must keep the disclaimer and copyright notice intact.

Thank you.

email chairman [d-a-s-h] bdsmlibrary [a-t] scubed [d-o-t] org

***

Disciplining Regina

Joe loved his job. He was a security guard (no, now they were called

"lobby attendants") in a large office building, one of those anonymous

fifty floor architectural monstrosities that dot the urban landscape

of so many modern cities. His job was to help people, to find the

bathrooms, or the lifts, or the building directory, and of course,

in this era of worldwide terrorism, to watch for people "acting

funny". In other words, a very boring job.

However, it was coming up on one of the best parts of his day.

Every day, at 11.35 a group of young and pretty women came down the

lifts from one of the hundreds of businesses that called the Bannerman

Tower home and went to lunch together. At 12.25, or about now, they

returned. Sure enough, he saw them walking down the sidewalk in

front of the building, and file through the revolving door, one by

one. And yes, there towards the back, was his favourite. She was

fairly tall, probably five foot nine or so, and had straight black

hair that hung just to her shoulders. She had a nice build, not too

skinny, definitely curvy, but not excessively so. She had nice legs,

and always dressed very professionally, but he sensed that under

that businesslike exterior was a true wild woman. He didn't even

know her name, or which company she worked for.

***

Her name was Regina Abernathy, and she was a writer for "Erotic,

Ink", a supplier of erotica to major internet websites. She was in

the Bondage, Enslavement, Agony and Torture (or BEAT) division,

which she always thought was the sort of acronym devised by people

with no sense of humour. The sort of people who, if they had a pet

raven, would inevitably name it Quotha, and think themselves quite

witty.

She liked her job, really. She had been working there about six

weeks, and had several stories published already. She had even

gotten some nice (and some not so nice) feedback from fans.

There were some things she didn't like. For example, lunch was

always strictly from 11.30 to 12.30, and several of the old-timers

had warned her that EI was quite strict about that. Still and all,

it was a good job.

She and her friends boarded the lift, heading back in. When they

got off, she noticed many of the girls staring at them, curiously.

No, not at them, but only at her. What the heck?

When she crossed the sea of desks to hers, she knew. On the desk

was a pink memo slip. "Oh my god," she thought, "I've 'gotten a

pink.'" At EI, when a girl made a mistake, or broke a company rule,

took too long for lunch, or took too many bathroom breaks, or

whatever, she would 'get a pink', one of the pink notes left on her

desk. The note instructed her on when and where to report to one

of the company's Physical Corrections Officers, or the Spanker-Wankers

as they were called very much behind their backs.

Everyone hired by EI had to sign an agreement, giving the company

the right to administer physical punishment for any misconduct, but

Regina couldn't imagine what she had done wrong. She glanced at the

clock, but it was only 12.29, so she wasn't late getting back. Her

best mate, Carolynne, leaned over and asked her, in a low whisper,

"What on Earth did you do?"

"I don't know," she whispered back.

"Talking without permission, Miss Abernathy?" a voice spoke behind

her, loudly in the silence. "That will be reported, and added to

your correction. Back to work, girls!"

That was Mrs. Cooper, the supervisor, and the terror of her girls.

She was a real martinet, but so far Regina had managed to avoid

getting in trouble with her. Obviously her luck had just run out.

"Ma'am?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Abernathy, what is it?"

"What did I do wrong? Why did I get a pink?"

"I'm sorry, dear, but you'll have to wait for Mr. Gruber to tell

you that."

Regina looked at the slip. Sure enough, it said (in neat public

school handwriting):

  This Friday, at 9.00, report to Miss Lee, the company nurse, for

  preparation, and at 10.00 to Mr. Gruber for correction. Expect

  to miss lunch.

Mr. Gruber was widely reported to be the most sadistic of the three

Spanker-Wankers, and every girl who had been sent to him had been

bruised for days after. "Thank god," she thought. "If my punishment

is on Friday, I have the whole weekend to recover." But then she

had a really unpleasant thought. She knew the company liked for all

employees to see the results of a correction, "pour encourager les

autres", so if they planned it for a Friday, it might be that they

expected her to still be hurting by Monday. "Expect to miss lunch."

Suddenly that phrase was a lot more ominous.

The rest of the week passed in a curious mix of agonising anticipation

and extreme rapidity. Her Friday appointment hung over her head

like the Sword of Damocles, and not knowing what it was about, or

what to expect, made it far worse.

***

Friday morning Regina reported to work at 8.00, the same as always,

but not quite. Today hung over her like a dark cloud. She could

hardly concentrate, and even so, was quite surprised when the meeting

reminder popped up. She locked her workstation, and walked to the

nurses office.

Because EI practiced Physical Corrections, they maintained a small

medical staff on-site, to ensure the girls could take their corrections

safely, and to deal with any complications that might arise. Until

this day, Regina had never been to that office.

The door was open, and inside was a small waiting room, with a

receptionist behind a partition. The receptionist was a round and

curvy girl, not huge by any means, but not stick-like, either. She

looked up as Regina entered.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, my name is Regina Abernathy. I have an"

"You have an appointment with Miss Lee. Please go down the hall to

examining room number three."

She did so. She entered a room like that seen in any doctor's office.

Desk, chairs, exam table (with stirrups). Sitting at the desk was

a small Asian woman. She had straight black hair that hung to her

ass, small but firm looking tits, and a look on her face (or maybe

it was the suggestion of attitude) that caused Regina to shiver

down to her heels.

"Good morning, Miss Abernathy. I'm Amanda Lee. My job is to ensure

that you are in good enough health to endure today's correction,

and to get you prepared for it. So to begin with, please remove

everything you are wearing, save for your heels. I do mean everything.

Blouse, skirt, lingerie, jewelry, *everything*."

Regina stared at her, dumbfounded, but made no move to comply.

"Now, bitch, or I will add a count of intransigence to your demerit

sheet. Believe me when I tell you that you don't want that."

Regina looked in vain for a partition to strip behind. She moved

to close the door. "If I wanted you to close the door, bitch, I

would have ordered you to do so. NOW GET NAKED!"

Regina began to strip, quickly. Finally, she stood naked save for

her four-inch heels before her diminutive tormentor.

"Clasp your hands behind your neck, and stand here," the nurse

pointed to the center of the small room. Regina did so. Miss Lee

walked slowly around her. She squeezed Regina's tits and muttered,

"Natural. Good, Mr. Gruber will enjoy disciplining these."

She walked slowly around the trembling Regina, stopping to stroker

her hips, to smack her ass cheeks, and finally, most humiliatingly,

to thrust two fingers into Regina's now sopping wet cunt. All the

while she muttering under her breath little comments about what a

slut Regina was.

Finally, she stood again in front of her. "Let's get you weighed,

measured, and cleaned, girlie." She led Regina over to a scale, and

took note of her weight. She then had her step out of her heels for

a moment, so she could measure her height. Next, she checked Regina's

blood pressure, and her pulse. All pretty routine stuff, it seemed.

Then things took a turn for the weird. Miss Lee said, "Up on the

table, bitch, and get those legs in the stirrups." Regina complied,

and was all too aware how obscenely she gaped. Miss Lee proceeded

to pull straps across her chest and waist, binding her to the table.

She then adjusted the table, simultaneously raising her trembling

victim's head and chest, and spreading her legs still wider.

Miss Lee began to pinch Regina's nipples, until they got hard. She

then applied an adjustable clamp to each, and began to tighten the

thumb wheel. Slowly, she increased the pressure, crushing the girl's

nipples smaller and smaller. Regina cried out, "Please, stop, I

can't take any more."

"You can, and you shall." The nurse continued to tighten the clamps

to the point that the two sides nearly touched. Regina was sobbing

hysterically, but quietly, because the first time she cried out,

Miss Lee slapped her face and shouted, "No screaming, bitch!"

The nurse noted how tightly she was able to clamp the nipples. She

next repeated the clamping on Regina's labia. Again, the clamps

were tightened well past the point of pain. Again, Regina kept from

doing more than sobbing.

However, when Miss Lee picked up another clamp, Regina realised

where it was going, and began to plead, "Please, no, please, you'll

kill my clit, you'll drive me crazy, please, oh please..." But of

course, the nurse was relentless. She clamped Regina's clit, and

drew a prolonged howl.

Miss Lee slapped her again. "I said to suffer QUIETLY! You are on

report for intransigence." But at last, she released Regina's

throbbing clit and pussy.

"Does it hurt, bitch?" she asked. Regina nodded. "Well, this is

nothing compared to what you will suffer. And I am gonna enjoy it.

Now, let's get you cleaned out."

She grabbed an enema nozzle, and stuffed it into Regina's as yet

untouched asshole. She flipped a switch, and somewhere, a motor

started. The girl squirmed as she felt warm water being pumped into

her ass. It continued until she thought she would burst, and then

it kept on going. Finally, her belly distended like a pregnant girl,

the flow stopped.

The nurse flipped another switch, and the flow reversed. Now the

warm and filthy water was pumped out of her. As the last was sucked

out, click, the flow reversed again. This time, even more water was

pumped in to the girl's ass. She was made to hold it until she was

visibly shaking from the cramps, then again she was pumped out.

The process was repeated a third time, and when it was done, Regina

was wrung out completely, like a runner who had just completed a

marathon. But she felt the dreaded nozzle withdraw, and she relaxed.

That moment of relaxation lasted all of about five seconds, until

she saw Miss Lee pick up a large speculum, and lube it up. "We've

got to see how wide we can stretch you, girlie." With that, she

inserted it into her victim's cunt, and began to spread it. Wider

and wider it went, open her wider than anyone had ever opened her

before.

Miss Lee stood between her legs with a flashlight, and a cloth

measuring tape, measuring her cunt eight ways from Sunday. Just

when Regina thought her humiliation couldn't get any worse, she

glanced to her side. On the desk was a computer monitor. And on the

monitor was an extreme closeup of her cunt. She realised that her

entire examination was being videotaped, and moaned.

Miss Lee noted the direction of her gaze, and said, "That's right,

bitch! You have been on tape since the moment you first walked in,

and this tape will be added, along with the footage of your discipline

session, to the video archives for the viewing pleasure of management."

After being held open so obscenely for what seemed to Regina like

forever, at long last the speculum was loosened, and withdrawn.

"I'd love to torment you further, girlie, but it is almost 10.00,

and if you are late, it will be my ass." The nurse shuddered at the

thought, or was it a memory?

Regina was unstrapped from the table. She stood up, and went to get

her clothes. Miss Lee smacked her hands, and said, "You know the

drill, bitch. You must walk naked from here to your punishment."

Regina had allowed herself to forget that little humiliation. But

she recalled seeing the girls, hands clasped behind their heads,

walking slowly among the desks.

And now it was her turn. She clasped both hands behind her head,

smiled bravely, and walked out onto the office floor. Most of the

girls looked away, or hid their eyes in shared shame and humiliation,

but some did not. Those who looked on fell into two groups: Those

who were anxious for her to receive punishment, and those who envied

her.

Regina found it strange that any would wish to take her place, and

yet it was obvious to her that several of the girls watching wanted

to do just that.

She continued the long slow march across the floor, to the door

marked only "Gruber". She glanced at the clock, and saw that it was

just turning 10.00. Hurriedly, she knocked.

"Come in, Miss Abernathy," a deep voice answered from within.

***

She opened the door and stepped inside. She saw an office, nothing

too odd, and wondered where all tools of the trade were to be found.

Her puzzlement was plain on her face. "This is just my office, my

dear. The place where I do the paperwork. You'll see the Correction

Room," he nodded towards a door in the side wall, "soon enough.

First, however, be seated." She complied.

"This is your first Physical Correction with us, is that right?"

Regina nodded. "Well, let me remind you of the terms of your contract.

Basically, I can't do anything to you that would require medical

care beyond what our staff can provide, nor can I do anything which

would leave you unable to work. However, those are the only limits.

And since you will have the two days of the weekend to recover,

that means your Physical Correction can go pretty far. Yes?" he

acknowledged the questioning glance.

"Sir, why am I being punished?"

"Ah, it appears that in one of your stories, you changed a character's

name from Sally to Molly, but you missed a few cases. That caused

several of our readers to think there were two characters instead

of just one. Mister Hamilton," she gasped as she realised he was

talking about the president of EI, "was furious. He received several

complaints, and had to refund some sites their money. He instructed

me to ensure that you never make that mistake again."

"In addition, you are up for talking without permission, and of

course, for intransigence from Miss Lee. You are in for a long day,

though I will promise you that we will be finished before 18.00,

since that is quitting time, and I am not going to work overtime,

just before the weekend, because some dumb cunt needs Physical

Correction. Now, let me give you the tour of the dungeon."

She was doubly scared now, as she hadn't even imagined, until he

spoke, that there was any possibility of her correction lasting

until 18.00. She waited, trembling anew, as he arose from behind

his desk, and drew a key from a chain around his neck. He used it

to open the other door, and stepped inside, motioning her to follow.

They were in a short hallway that led to another door. This one was

unlocked, and he opened it, ushering her into a large room. It was

probably five meters on a side, and the ceiling was much higher

than usual.

She stared in amazement at it all. She saw many devices and pieces

of equipment at the usage of which she could even begin to guess.

But the ones she did recognise were all things designed to cause

pain and suffering, more specifically, today, her pain and suffering.

She shuddered.

He walked her over to the first punishment station. It looked like

a giant "X", studded with straps. "This is a St. Andrew's Cross,"

he explained. "It is a great way to restrain a girl for a whipping,

flogging, or caning. Ours has a feature not often seen. It is mounted

on an axle so that it can rotate." He demonstrated, rotating it

slowly with his hand. "However, it can be locked into position, so

that once you are in the right position, you will be held there as

long as I desire."

They moved on to the next station. She recognised a pillory, but

there was something odd about it. He showed her. "You see this, the

bar to hold your pretty little neck and wrists? It can be moved

from the crosspiece here," he grabbed it from the stem of the "T"

it was part of, "and shifted to here," he attached it to a small

protrusion a foot behind the main stem, and only six inches off the

floor. "This is perfect for holding a girl bent right over, for

a really severe caning. And in the usual position, a girl presents

her bottom quite nicely for a caning or a firm paddling."

"Next," he said, moving her briskly to the next station, "we have

the suspension rig." He pointed to four padded cuffs, dangling near

the top of a frame of four-by-fours. Each was attached via a length

of plastic-wrapped steel cable on a winch. "Each of these cables

is rated to five hundred kilos. You can thrash about all you wish,

and you will not fall, or knock this station over. I find it

particularly efficacious for administering a prolonged pussy

whipping."

"Finally, this is my favourite piece." She looked, and saw a most

peculiar "chair". The seat consisted of two short wooden planks,

angled out in a wide "V". There were no arms, in the usual sense,

but there was a long wooden piece at about the height and length

of arms, if they were stretched straight out from the shoulders.

All over the chair were leather buckles, at the neck, wrists, waist,

and knees. Someone ("No, not someone," Regina thought, "me") would

be quite thoroughly immobilised in that chair.

"The Chair has a number of uses. It is a good position to hold a

girl for a mechanical rape, or even a non-mechanical one," he

chuckled evilly. "It holds a girl quite well for a severe tit

whipping. And finally," he paused dramatically, "it has been fitted

as an Electric Chair. Not," he hastened to add, "the sort used to

electrocute people, but definitely the sort that can be used to

torture a girl. Do you know what I love best about electrical

torture? I can make a girl scream like a soul enduring the agony

of the damned, and when I turn off the juice, that's it. No lingering

after effects."

"Of course, I don't have the one piece of gear I really wanted. I

asked them for a rack. You know, the old-fashioned racks used during

the Inquisition to dislocate shoulders and hips? But no, the

management said it might keep you girls from working. It never did

at my old job. Before I came here, I was the official harem torturer

for an obscure Arabic sheik. Old 'Bones' Malveaux, his harem doc,

never had any trouble putting the girls joints back to rights, and

you know, after a girl had her hips dislocated once, all I ever had

to do was threaten her with a repeat visit to the rack, and she

would do anything commanded of her. But I had to leave, 'cause I

began to miss the company of English-speaking folks. When I heard

what Mr. Hamilton had in mind for EI, I signed on straight away."

"Anyway, Miss Abernathy, that is the dungeon. I promise you that

you will spend at least an hour on each piece of equipment, and you

will entertain me with your screams all day. Oh, and did I mention

the closed-circuit television, so that management can watch and

hear you scream from the comfort of their offices? And you already

know that this will also be taped, for those who missed it, or who

just want to watch it again."

He looked at the girl, who was now shaking like leaf in a high wind.

"Shall we begin, my dear?"

***

All throughout the day, the girls working at their desks, could

hear the occasional howl, sob, or prolonged scream come from the

dungeon. Most tried to ignore it, as they always did. Some wished

they were in the room, inflicting that agony on the poor Miss

Abernathy, and some few wished they were in the room, in her place.

Finally, about 17.00 or so, the door opened. Regina stepped out.

She was not the same girl who had gone in there. The girl who had

entered the dungeon suspected that there were many dark and painful

places to which a girl could be taken. The girl who came out had

visited those places, and would never be quite the same.

She walked slowly through the office, to the Display Pillar. This

was a small raised platform, about one meter square, raised about

a meter above the floor. It stood right in the center of the floor,

where all the girls could easily see the penitent girl. After a

punishment, a girl was required to stand on the platform in the

display position (hands laced behind head) for the remainder of the

day.

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, feelings. On the

one hand, she had never hurt this badly in her entire life, had

never even known a girl could be hurt this badly without being

killed, or at least hospitalised. But on the other hand, though it

shamed her to admit it, she had had some of the most gut-wrenching,

mind-blowing orgasms of her life while being disciplined, and the

greater her agony at the time, the more powerful the orgasm. Was

she sick? Perverted? Or merely a woman with a healthy, if unusual,

sexual appetite?

She remembered Mr. Gruber's last words to her, as he unstrapped her

from The Chair. "Believe me girl, you got off light, since this was

a first offense. You don't want them to send you back for a serious

session. However," he added, "I know your heart, Regina. I know

that you love this, don't you?" She nodded, hesitantly, fearful of

admitting it. "I can always tell. If, in a few weeks, you'd like

to experience this again, give me a call. We can have dinner of a

Saturday evening, and then I'll bring you back here for afters,

torture and sex. One of the perks of the job, dontcha know."

She knew that as much as feared him, she would be calling him, one

day soon. She would be returning to the dungeon again.