A Matter of Discipline

A MATTER OF DISIPLINE- The Beginning

I own a local gift shop in a resort town that stays busy almost year round. I have been fortunate to have a very favorable relationship with the local community as well, and thus get many referrals to my store. One of the reasons is my manager. She is extremely prominent in the community and is not the type of person you would normally find working.

Her husband is a very successful businessman who travels extensively, and because of this, his wife, Mrs. M, wanted “something to do” to fill in the day. This started six years ago with her working just a few hours a week , and now she almost runs the store. She is well known to everyone and very popular, not having the normal attitude of most women of her stature.

She is friendly to all, but always very proper and never speaks a bad word about anyone. Most people who do not know her are quite surprised when they hear of her background and always ask why she works so hard. She just laughs most of the time and tells them she does it for fun and actually loves the excitement of the business.

The following situation took place about six months ago and it’s one that does not seem to have a way of ending. During a busy Saturday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk going over some invoices. Being the type of store that we are, my office is part of the storeroom, with no walls around, just the desk and filing cabinet among the merchandise.

Mrs. M appeared and needed to get some change for the front. The safe is also located in the back next to my desk, so I had to move to let her get by. I sat back down and noticed her kind of jumping or squirming around, like she had “to go.” I jokingly said to her, “What’s the matter, got ants in your pants.”

She replied, “No, I really have to pee, but have been to busy.”

I jokingly said, “I guess it wouldn’t help if I tickled you.”

She laughed, and fired right back, “If you do, you had better get the mop.”

What happened next was so far out of the normal thought process, I do not even know how I said what I did. Sometimes you don’t always think before talking and this was one of those times where I put myself in a trap and just kept getting in deeper.

First, I must backtrack to tell you what I was seeing. The staff uniform, because of the resort atmosphere and the warm year round climate, consisted of shorts, tee shirts, and sneakers. Mrs. M wore the same. On any given day, she was not the type of women you would stop to look at. She was around forty-two years of age, and about five foot four, with shoulder length brown hair.

She had a very plain face and features. Physically she was small, with breasts that were not noticeable, but she did have hips, possibly from having three children. She weighed probably no more than one hundred ten pounds. Her best feature, though, was her butt. I have always been a breast man, but I often found myself watching Mrs. M walking or bending over, just to admire her legs and that butt.

Now she was standing in front of me, squeezing her legs together and hopping around with that butt right in front of my face. As she turned to leave after getting change, still in a frenzied state, she asked if I would move, so she could get out. I laughed and said, “You will have to pay the toll.”

She laughed and said, “Please stop, I really have to go and do not have time to play.”

I looked at her straight in the eyes and said, “No pay, no go. Your choice.”

“Ok, ok,” she said, “What it’s gonna cost me, but if you don’t make it quick I am going to pee right here.”

That’s when I did it. I turned so I was facing directly in front of her and said, “I want you to turn around.” She looked at me with a question and then turned so her back was facing me. I then said, “Remove your shorts.”

She turned and looked at me and asked, “What did you say?” knowing full well what I had said.

I repeated it again, “Take off your shorts.”

I thought she was going to scream. She looked at me and said, “I don’t believe you just said what you did or why, but I think you had better move out of my way and let me pass or else I’ll have you arrested for sexual assualt.”

I knew I had buried myself and just killed my business, but I forged on like a man on a mission. I sat there looking at her. She was now really about to burst. I calmly said, “If you don’t do as I say, you’re going to wet yourself. Then you’ll make so much noise that someone will hear you and come back here. When they do they’ll see you in your state of wetting yourself, which probably is not a good thing to happen, being the woman you are and your reputation. No matter what you say then, everyone will just think it was an excuse you made up for being embarrassed.”

If she had a knife, I knew she would use it, but she coldly looked at me and said, “This is not over. Having said that she started to undo her shorts.

I told her, “Turn around, so your back is to me and take them off.”

She turned and continued to remove her shorts. When she had done so, I told her to lift her tee shirt so I could see her butt. I was mesmorized. I was staring at her beautiful butt in a pair of silk panties. She really did have a great butt. At this point, I told her to put her shorts back on and return to the front so no one would be suspicious.

While she was putting her shorts back on, I quickly left and went to the front of the store and started helping customers. The rest of the day stayed busy, which kept us separated, so I was fearful for the end of the day. If she quit and told her husband, I would certainly be arrested. Nobody would dare doubt her word, but what proof did she really have.

I decided to leave early so I did not have to have a confrontation at the end of the day. As I was about to leave, Mrs. M came up to me and said, “This is far from over. When I tell my husband about this over the weekend, you will wish you never came to this town.”

As calmly as I had been earlier, I looked straight at her and said, “If you want to discuss it, I would suggest you wait until Monday. Don’t forget your reputation, and with all the staff working today, it would seem strange that no one would have seen anything. Try explaining that and why you didn’t just scream for help.”

With that, I turned to leave. I then stopped, looking her in the eyes, and said, “Be here at eight am Monday, dressed for work, and we will finish this matter.” I then left.