We had this odd case at work recently. I suppose you could call it sexual harassment of a sort, and I must admit that the manager in question could be a bit of a mongrel at times.
One day he got an email and on opening it he found himself displaying a nice shot of someone's erection and balls. It was fairly obvious the picture came from the net somewhere. There are a lot of those sorts of pictures out there.
Included in the email was a question asking how he felt his puny weeny measured up.
I worked in Human Resources and the matter was referred to me. Naturally the first thing that came to mind was that the manager had been flashing his puny weeny where he shouldn't have been flashing it and the flashee was striking back.
He flatly denied it, and I had no proof otherwise. Actually, from the shifty way he acted, I suspected that finding who he'd flashed might have narrowed the suspect pool but would also reveal the suspect pool to be rather large.
The errant emails continued for a couple of weeks, culminating in a photocopy of a woman's rear end and sexual organs. The photocopy wasn't a copy of a picture but rather a photocopy of the actual goods. Someone had sat on the photocopier and pressed print. It was a surprisingly good copy, all things considered. I asked the manager if he recognised it. He got rather shitty with me and said no.
After a couple of weeks investigating I had some pretty clear evidence of sexual harassment, but not of the type the complaining manager wanted me to find. I took my evidence to my manager and shortly after the complainer resigned from the firm. I'd come up with half a dozen firm complaints against him. None of the girls had wanted to be the first to complain but as soon as they knew I was looking they came out of the woodwork.
Mind you, even with the narrowed field of suspects, I never found out who'd been sending him the sexy photos. I just gave a general warning to the girls that that sort of thing was frowned on and could lead to termination of employment.
When asked if I wanted to compare the photocopy with my list of suspects I met the suggestion with dignified silence. That didn't stop the various girls cacking with laughter at my expense.
That appeared to be the end of the sexual harassment and I marked the incident as unsolved but satisfactorily completed, and life went on as normal.
About a month later another manager received a photocopy of a young lady's butt. I compared it with the photocopy from the first case and, while I'm prepared to say it was the same bottom, it was a different photocopy.
Now this case was different from the first. This manager was Mr Nice. He was efficient and good with his staff, although he didn't tolerate slackness. He was happily married and there had never even been a hint of sexual impropriety about him. He was as genuinely puzzled as anyone as to why he received the email.
Another difference was that he only received the one email. There were no follow ups. My feel for the matter was that he'd annoyed the same woman who had shafted the first manager, and she'd sent him an email as a warning. The only problem was that we didn't know what it was a warning for.
The manager decided to just ignore the incident and I added it to my watch list. The joys of working in Human Resources.
Now a couple of weeks later I was late leaving work. Very late. All the end of year personnel reviews were being done and I was busy reading, collating and filing them, marking down employees who might require a follow up.
I was finally knocking off and heading for the door. Passing a stock room I heard someone in there, and there wasn't supposed to be anyone still at work. I opened the door to see what was going on.
What was going on was Jenny, sweet little Jenny, our receptionist, sitting on the photocopier, skirt hoicked up around her waist, panties dangling around one ankle, legs spread and her sex on full display. I could see everything she had. Very pretty she was.
"I see you shave your mons," I observed. "Very becoming."
She was looking at me, eyes wide with shock. When I spoke her legs snapped together and she hastily pushed her skirt down.
I grinned. When she'd yanked her legs together she'd dislodged her panties and they fell to the ground. Before she could hop off the photocopier I'd strolled over and picked them up and pocketed them. Then I reached out and grabbed the photocopy that had just printed.
Jenny was blushing and stammering, but what could she say. I mean, what would you say to someone who walks in and catches you photocopying your tush? I was in a position of psychological dominance, and I knew it.
"You'd better come back to my office," I said. "I want a little chat with you."
"My panties, please," she said in a small voice.
I just waved the request aside.
"In a moment. First, my office."
Reaching my office I went to my files and extracted the first two photocopies. Jenny went a little pale when she saw them and her eyes flicked from them to the current copy. I suspected that she knew that they'd match.
I was about to lay the three copies out for a comparison when I remember the crack made at the end of the first investigation. Unless my memory was serving me false, and it wasn't, Jenny had been the one who had suggested comparing the photocopy with the suspects.
"You know, Jenny, you had a good idea. I think it's time I compared these photocopies with my suspects, and right now there's only one. You. Why don't you be a good girl and bend over that chair."
Face flushed, Jenny tried to stare me down, but she knew she was in deep trouble. She muttered something about perverts under her breath and bent over as instructed. I flicked her skirt up and did a quick comparison between what she was displaying and the photocopies.
"I have to say that all three copies are a match," I told her. "You've got this little birthmark right here and it shows on the copies."
When I pressed against the birthmark I somehow didn't remember that I could just show it on one of the photocopies. Instead, I pressed against the original, which unfortunately was located in a very tender area. Jenny squealed and bounced upright, the word pervert again leaving her mouth.
She glared at and I just smiled blandly and started going over the case.
"I can understand the first incident, and we're well rid of that sleazebag, but why the copy for Mr Mason?"
"He was rude to me," she muttered. "He blamed me for something that wasn't my fault and didn't give me a chance to explain, and I got upset."
"And this latest copy? Who was the intended recipient?"
Her eyes blazed at that.
"That's for a creep who reckons he's going to be my boyfriend," she snapped. "I found out he's married. I was sending it to him, care of his wife, and let him explain it to her."
I had to laugh at that one. Still, she shouldn't have done any of it and she knew it.
"All you needed to do was file a formal complaint the first time," I pointed out. "Where Mr Mason was concerned, if he made a genuine error you could have come to us and we would have dealt with it. It's what we're for. As to your boyfriend, that doesn't impact the firm, so you can send him as many dirty pictures as you like.
Sitting on the photocopier is another matter. You could easily break the glass, and fall into the machine. Can you think of what it would be like stuck in that machine while the paramedics came to get you out?"
Jenny blushed. I don't suppose it had even occurred to her that the glass might break and leave her stuck in the machine, bare-assed.
"You've now put me into a position where I have to decide what to do with you. All three incidents could be considered grounds for dismissal, but I think that would be a bit of overkill. I can mark the first two incidents as employee identified and given an official warning, and the third incident doesn't need to be entered.
But if that's all that happens then you've had a bit of a scare and no real punishment to help the idiocy of what you did to sink in.
I think you'll agree that you've really acted like a naughty little girl in this and naughty little girls get their bottoms smacked."
I got up and strolled over to the nice comfortable couch that ran along one wall of my office and sat on it.
"I think if you come over here I'll put you across my knee and spank you and we'll call it case closed."
Jenny was relieved and horrified at the same time. A spanking and case closed would be terrific as far as she was concerned. She could handle a spanking. But! What if I tried to molest her? How could she prevent it?
"When you say a spanking, you do mean just a spanking?" she asked. "You won't be trying to, ah, to. . ." Her voice trailed off.
"If you're trying to ask if I'd take advantage of the situation to molest you, grope you, touch you up or rrrravish you," I said, wiggling my eyebrows, "professional ethics forbid. I might enjoy the view and I'm quite sure I'll enjoy spanking you, but unfortunately that will be as far as it goes."
"I didn't think that you'd try to rape me or anything like that," Jenny protested. "I was just making sure of what you had in mind."
Little liar. The thought "he's going to rape me" had been shining from her face. Now she looked relieved.
I indicated that she approach and she did, slowly, and when she was close enough I drew her over my knee. Skirt flicked up out of the way and a pretty white bottom on display. I rested my hand on her bottom for a moment.
