I had to get some cash from the petty cash box to pay for a delivery. As soon as I opened the box I knew something was wrong. The day before I'd checked the box and added some cash to it to make sure we had enough to pay for those unexpected emergencies -- like a delivery that I had to pay for.
Now amongst the notes I'd put into the box there was a ten dollar note. Rare things those, what with self-checkout machines preferring to pay with two fives instead of a ten. There are times I'll have five or six fives in my wallet but nary a ten, so the ten being gone was easily spotted. Just to be sure I did a quick count and came up ten short.
I paid for the delivery and noted the transaction in the petty cash book, resolving to keep a closer eye on the box. I was interested in finding out who had helped themselves. A couple of days later I spotted Fiona, our current scut-work girl, sidled up to the box and fiddle around with it. As soon as I had a chance to do so privately I fetched the box and did a quick count. The cash was right where it should have been, the missing ten having reappeared. (The value thereof, anyway, as it was actually two fives.)
I seemed that Fiona had simply used the petty cash to tide herself over for a couple of days and paid it back as soon as she had the money. Understandable, in a way, but not something that I could allow to go unchecked. I invited Fiona to drop by my office after work. She was still on probation so there was no chance that she'd refuse, even if it did mean that she was a little late leaving.
Fiona fronted up right on five. I told her to take a seat for a minute or two while I finished what I was doing. A couple of minutes later everything was quiet in the office, the rest of the staff having made their escape. I looked up and smiled at Fiona.
"So, tell me, Fiona. Why did you lift ten dollars from the petty cash box?" I put it out as a flat fact. Less chance of an indignant denial and requests for proof.
"Oh, I didn't," came the hasty reply. "I only borrowed it. I've already returned it."
"That doesn't answer the question. Why did you think it necessary to borrow ten dollars from the box without asking?"
She was blushing a little and looking very guilty.
"Um, it was rent night and I was going to be a little short. I fully intended to put it back and like I said, I've already done so."
"And how would you have explained things if we'd needed that money between your taking it and returning it? Mm? We'd have been looking around for a thief and as you're the last person hired guess where we'd have been looking?"
She didn't say anything, just sat there squirming restlessly.
"The point is you shouldn't have taken the ten at all. You had other options. You could have asked one of the co-workers for a loan. They tend to be a friendly bunch and lending someone ten a couple of days before payday would probably have been on the cards. You could have explained the situation to me and I'd have lent you the ten. You could have told the landlord that you're ten short and that you'd let him have it in a couple of days. Rent is paid in advance so he wouldn't really have grounds for complaint. The rent you did pay would still have put you ahead."
Fiona just looked guilty and gave me a mutinous look. She wanted to point out that she had returned the money but didn't quite have the nerve.
"You're probably wondering why I'm making a fuss, seeing as the money was replaced," The look on her face said that she agreed with that statement.
"Consider this. What would have been the outcome if I'd raised the question of your borrowing yesterday instead of today?"
She dithered a little but didn't seem to know what to say.
"That's right," I said cheerfully. "You being fired. Possibly a report to the police. No reference for your next place of employment, making it hard to find another job. Being an imaginative type I may become creative with some other type of punishment. You never know."
"Are you going to fire me?" she asked in a small voice, looking quite pale.
"Nope. This lecture is as far as it goes. The main reason for the lecture is to let you know that I did notice what you did and to make sure you don't do it again. Think about it. If you got away with no-one noticing you'd be tempted to do it again next time you were short, and next time you might not be so quick to pay the loan back. It's called the thin edge of the wedge. I'm just making sure the wedge has been removed and tossed in the dustbin. Okay?"
Fiona nodded in a rather miserable fashion, obviously just wanting to be out of there.
"Alright, then that will be all. But as a fair warning if I catch you looking thoughtfully at the petty cash box I'll put you across my knee and paddle your tush."
I smiled while she spluttered, trying to decide what to say.
"You wouldn't dare," she finally got out. "That would be assault. Indecent assault. I'd have you arrested."
"Really?" I asked with a grin. "Tell me, if I offered you the choice between having your bottom spanked or getting fired, which would you choose?"
"Y-you said you weren't going to fire me," Fiona promptly protested.
"And neither I am," I agreed. "I just said if you had to choose. Not that you actually had to."
"Oh," she muttered, looking rather flustered. "Um, I don't know. Neither would be my answer. What's option three?"
"Why would I offer another option? Those two seem fair and reasonable to me. One, you're unemployed without a reference and have to move back in with your parents while you look for a new job. Two, you get spanked and you're still employed and everything is fine. So which would it be?"
Fiona was eighteen and a few months and the look she gave me implied that those few months had made her somewhat suspicious of what men wanted from her. The way she was stacked I couldn't blame her for her suspicions, or the men for their intentions.
"I'd probably go with the spanking," she admitted, "if I could be sure that you wouldn't try anything else."
"What do you mean, anything else?" I asked, giving her a blank look.
"Don't give me that," she scoffed. "You know just what I mean."
"Do you mean that you think I might have illicit intentions?" I gasped, sounding shocked, or doing my best to.
"No, I don't think that. I know it," she retorted.
"I'm shocked. Shocked and hurt that you might think that of me." I sighed deeply to indicate how shocked and hurt I was.
"Oh please. It's ankle deep and rising."
As polite a way as any to tell me I'm bull-shitting her, I guess.
I sadly shook my head as I rose to my feet and moved around the desk to stand next to her. I indicated that she should stand and when she did I sat on the chair.
"I guess the only way to prove my good intentions is to demonstrate them. Why don't you just bend over so I can demonstrate with a small spanking and prove that I can draw the line at that point."
Fiona blushed.
"You surely don't expect me to bend over so that you can spank me?" she gasped, sounding horrified.
I smiled, incidentally noticing that a couple of little tents on the front of her blouse suggested that the thought wasn't totally abhorrent.
"It is just a suggestion," I pointed out, "and to be honest I didn't really think you would. You seem a little too young and nervous to risk doing something like that."
"I am not nervous. Neither am I all that young. I am a mature adult. I just feel that it's not in my best interests."
"Fair enough. Ah, just why isn't in your best interests? I mean, you get to experience something new and relatively harmless. Something that you can refer to if a similar situation arises sometime."
I paused for a moment and before she could say anything I started again.
"I'm being dense, aren't I?" I observed. "You've probably been spanked by a boyfriend and didn't like it and don't want to try it again. Quite understandable." (I was quite pleased with the amount of sympathy I managed to inject into my voice.)
"What? I have not. He wouldn't dream of doing something like that."
