With a grin on my face, I will tell you this story about my 31 year old employee, Marc, here in the Maryland suburbs of the Washington DC area. After you read it, perhaps there are MMSA Stories readers who may want to provide Marc with some discipline on days when I am too busy. Perhaps I can send him over to you. If so, email me with a photo of yourself (face shot) and we can communicate about arranging it.
I am a Vice President at this insurance company (32 years old) and Marc has been with the company just about the same amount of time as I. He's a very good looking guy, Irish looking, dark brown hair, brown eyes, perfect body, lean, smoothly muscular, works out 7 days a week -- or at least he did until I made some changes.
Marc's wife (married 2 years) is Mary, whom I'd never actually met until 3 weeks ago when I made a surprise visit to their house about an hour before Marc got home from work.
Let me backtrack a bit. Six months ago, I caught Marc one evening in his office having _s_e_x_ with a woman from another office in the building. Basically, he begged me not to tell his wife or fire him after I said I would have to. He realized that his marriage would be over and that he would have an almost impossible time getting another job. Mary does not work, and his life would be turned upside down instantly. When I searched his office and found marijuana, I made Marc sign a statement admitting to the _s_e_x_ual encounter and the drug use -- a statement I would keep in a sealed envelope under lock and key as long as he accepted the discipline that I felt was necessary. He sheepishly agreed.
Although he resisted at the beginning, I managed to make it clear that I meant business and if he so much as refused, whined, or even griped about following my instructions, then it would just be easier for me to turn him in and let someone else take care of him. After reminding him that this was a special favor and he should appreciate my taking the time to give him an alternate plan, he soon became very compliant and understood that my orders were not to be taken lightly.
Beginning that night, I took his privileges away. No dining in the staff dining room and no lunch outside the office. He would bring his lunch, eat it in his office (taking only 10 minutes) and then spend the other 50 minutes doing my personal errands. At 5pm daily he would go to the basement of the office building, where there is a storage room. He would strip naked and stand facing the wall until I got down there to lecture him for the day and give him the remainder of his instructions. Sometimes he waits 10 minutes and sometimes he waits 2 hours. If I walk in and his hands are not folded on top of his head and he's not standing stark naked facing the fall, then his job with the company is history. He is scared stiff of that possibility. The other responsibilities that I've given him are to come in to the office on Saturdays and some Sundays to finish up a lot of the work that I haven't had time to finish. There is only one other guy in the office who comes in on the weekend. Since Marc is required to be stripped naked during all of his work time on the weekend in the office, I let Bob (the other guy) know about the situation.
I had explained to Marc that the only reason I was not spanking him was to spare him the necessity of telling his wife about all of this and seeing the black-and-blue marks on his butt and seeing the crimson red bruising on his thighs and butt after I used the razor strap and wbip on him. You should have seen the expression on his pathetic, yet handsome, face. I told him that if I became dissatisfied with any part of his work or compliance with my instructions, then that would change and his wife, Mary, would have to know about all this. Each time I've mentioned it (about once a week since it happened 6 months ago), he has begged me and pleaded to do "anything" but that. Since I'm divorced and do not have a cleaning lady, I have instead had Marc come over to my house on Sundays to clean the house thoroughly and do my laundry. He never had to be asked twice to strip naked the moment he enters the house.
Now about 3 weeks ago. Marc's work was slipping, he was arriving late to my house to clean, his attitude was not as ingratiating to me as it should be under the circumstances. So at the prodding of Bob, who encouraged me to take the matter further, I decided 3 weeks ago to stop by Marc's house at 6pm on that Monday night and speak with Mary. I explained everything to Mary -- Marc's _s_e_x_ual encounter with the woman in the office, the marijuana I found in his desk drawer, the disciplinary arrangements which had been in place since 6 months ago. She was stunned, furious, and -- I'm happy to say -- glad to go along with whatever I had in mind. I told her to just follow my lead and go along with my plan completely and she would be in good hands. I called Bob at the office and told him to go to the basement and send Marc home. Marc figured he was getting a break on that Monday a few weeks ago. When he got home, I was sitting in the living room talking to Mary. A neighbor, Hank (also divorced) had been invited for dinner. Hank was sitting with Mary and me when Marc walked in -- about as shocked as anyone has ever looked to see me!
He started stammering, and I told him he could close his mouth and just listen to me.
"Marc, I've told Mary -- and Hank, for that matter -- EVERYTHING."
"Scott, you promised that ------- " Marc said with a face that had turned white.
I said "Marc, shut up and listen. This was the right thing to do. It is necessary to bring your discipline to a new level -- beginning immediately. If I hear any griping, whining, or attempt to change my mind, then you will be out on your ass tomorrow morning. You'll have a police record for the marijuana and anybody who even thinks about hiring you -- now that you'll be out of a job -- will find out about your lousy work record and the fact that you were having _s_e_x_ one night in your own office with a woman in the building."
I wish I could describe his gulp -- more like a choke.
I said "Marc, are you prepared to follow my instructions without any backtalk?"
Marc said meekly "Yes -- b- but Hank, you ought to leave now."
I said, "Marc, Hank is staying. There will be no changes in this house except at the say-so of me or Mary. Period."
"Instruction Number 1. Take off your clothes. After you've stripped naked, bring your clothes upstairs and put them on the chair in the hallway. Do NOT walk into the master bedroom. It is now off limits to you."
Marc began to take off his clothes slowly -- about as embarrassed as anyone I've ever seen. After I yelled "Speed it up," he increased his pace. Since his jockey shorts were still on, I said "Marc, you've just increased the number of razor strappings you're going to get by 50. That's a total of 150. Would you like to leave them on for another few minutes and bring the count to 200?"
"No, Scott," he tremblingly whispered.
"Marc, what are you supposed to call me?"
"No, SIR."
By this time, he was stark naked and walking upstairs with the clothes. Mary and Hank were speechlessly looking on with astonishment.
When Marc walked back in to the living room, I said "This will be the only time I will remind you that your hands are to be folded on top of your head unless we are at the dinner table or I give you permission to do otherwise. Now stand facing the wall while I discuss this further with Mary and Hank. At that point, I softly filled Mary and Hank on what was to come.
"Marc, get your key to the house and give it to me. When you come home, you'll knock and wait. If nobody's home, you'll just wait outside the kitchen-door entrance. If the wait is more than five minutes, you wait with your hands on top of your head."
He went upstairs to get me the key, which I put on my key ring. Marc knew that Hank had a key so he could watch the house when they were away. So now Marc was the only one in the house who did not have one -- and was not allowed to have one.
"Marc, when you get home after work and when you come into the house at any time, you have exactly five minutes to strip off all your clothes in the kitchen and put them into the kitchen closet. You will then do the list of chores that has been assigned to you, and then you will spend ALL of your other time AND YOU ARE TRULY GROUNDED -- in the basement on the cot."
"Scott, you mean I'm supposed to pack a suitcase of clothes and bring them down there?"
I said "No, you will not be wearing clothes in the house -- and that applies whether there are guests here or whatever."
Marc said "You mean the only thing I'll have there are sheets, a blanket, and my pajamas?"
I nodded my head "Sorry, pal, no sheets, no blanket, no pillow, no pillow case, no pajamas, no NOTHING. You're on the bare cot down there. Now before dinner, which I'll be joining you for each night to get this routine straight for awhile, march downstairs to your new room. First, get the razor strap from the back seat of my car."
Marc started to go upstairs. I said "Where the hell are you going?"
"We-- We-- Well, I'm just going to get my clothes so I can go out to the driveway to your car."
"Nice try, Marc. That brings you up to 200 whacks with the razor strap. Get going."
He walked down to the basement, into the garage, and out into the driveway -- about as quickly as I've seen anyone run. It was hard to hold back my chuckle since by this time his naked body had already sported a hard dick for the last 40 minutes or so."
Marc came up to the living room and handed me the razor strap. I wish I could describe how much I was enjoying this.
I said "Hank, why don't you join Marc and me in the basement. Marc, MARCH."
With hands on his head, he walked down to the basement. I ordered him to lie on the cot face down with his legs spread and his arms hanging over the front of the cot. I gave Hank the handcuffs to secure his hands onto the legs of a nearby chair.
I somehow managed to belt him with the razor strap as hard as anyone has probably ever used a razor strap. His yelling and pleading and begging and promising to do whatever I wanted was amazing. After the first 50 "One, sir" then "Two, sir" etc etc, I began the questions before each strapping.
"Marc, do you understand your instructions?"
"Yes, SIR."
"Marc, do you understand that I expect total cooperation with the rest of the instructions I'm going to give you?"
"Yes, SIR." The intermittent yelling and crying was -- well, it was something.
After giving him a few minutes to recover, I said "Upstairs, it's dinner time." When Marc said he's skip dinner, I gave him a look and said "Are we already starting to disobey?"
Up he popped, hands folded on his head, and he started to go to get his clothes -- to wear for dinner.
"Marc, where do you think you're going?"
"Just to get dressed for dinner?"
"Marc, bend over and grab your ankles."
"Please, please SIR."
25 with the razor strap made his butt an incredible shade of red -- mixed with black, blue, and purple on his thighs and the back of his leg. This time it was in front of Hank AND Mary.
"Sit down and keep quiet through dinner," I said.
During dinner, I talked about Marc in the 3rd person -- making it clear that anything I said about him would be something he would need to remember and apply to his new daily life.
"Beginning immediately, for AT LEAST a month, Marc will be practicing total cum control -- absolutely no jacking off and -- with a laugh -- obviously no _s_e_x_. Before his bedtime, which will be immediately after dinner every night AND at all other times except when he's under supervision, he'll wear the chastity belt that I bought him. I'll keep the only key. At all times Marc will be here -- in the basement only -- and naked no matter what is going on here and no matter who is here visiting. The only time he'll be wearing clothes -- which Hank, you can bring him in the morning, if you don't mind stopping by and picking out clothes for him -- is for the office. He can wear them to my house when he comes to clean and do laundry, but of course the clothes are removed as soon as he gets there. And no more use of a car. It's travel by bus only from now on -- for you, Marc. As for the chastity belt, of course you'll wear it to bed and at the office and then on very rare occasions when I am over here visiting I will unlock and remove it temporarily as long as Hank or I are there to be certain that you don't touch your dick. If at any time you are seen even touching your dick, then that will mean 200 extra razor strappings in addition to the automatic Monday night strappings -- and it will also mean extending your cum control period by an additional month. Any begging or pleading or whining about wanting relief will be a cause for further punishment. And, oh yes, I will write out your bathroom and showering instructions for you."
Marc looked so pathetically ridiculous and, of course self conscious sitting at his dinner table stripped naked -- with a noticeably hard dick that was basically lodged against his abdomen it was so long and hard.
"Oh, Marc," I decided to tell him this directly, "if there is even a hint of disobedience with respect to your discipline," we'll just revert to the original plan which I have so generously avoided -- firing you from the job and making sure your marijuana charge sticks. So glad you signed a paper in my office admitting to everything! And if I get annoyed enough, then you'll take a nice hot shower under supervision, and then with your arms handcuffed above your head, I think the kitchen would be a perfect place for me to personally shave you from the neck down. If you're going to act like a child, then there's no reason why you shouldn't look like one. For now, if you want to keep your precious manhood, then use self control and act like a man. That means act like a man while you're _c_o_c_k_s staying hard -- instead of being a baby and trying to get permission to shoot your load -- and that means taking your whippings like a man instead of yelling and screaming like that pathetic spectacle I heard in the basement when I was razor strapping you."
Dinner was over. "Marc, clear the dishes, clean up the kitchen, mop the kitchen floor, and -- one last time -- keep your hands off that hard prick. Then come into the living room and I'll put the new little machine on your _c_o_c_k_ and escort you downstairs for bedtime." Marc was just sitting there.
"MOVE," I said. "First walk over here and stand up with your hands folded on top of your head, Marc, this is what I'll be doing for about 3 minutes each time I take off the little machine from your _c_o_c_k_ and for 3 minutes just before putting it back on. That's what your little supervised periods without the metal cover will be like."
He was moaning and groaning and "Oohing" and "Aahing" and "Oh, Oh," throughout my little 3 minute massage of his _c_o_c_k_. Once it was at the longest and hardest point that it could be (you know, one or two seconds before squirting), I said "Marc, spread your legs about 2 inches wider. It's time for the _c_o_c_k_ to get locked in the cage. Get used to it."