I Believe In Punishment
The Hotel Manager... On a business trip to Zambia last week, I was greeted by an enthusiastic young Dutch lady, who was managing the hotel I was staying in. She had been on the job only a few weeks, and she was all smiles and laughs, and very friendly and polite. Even though she had taken up a management position, to me it was obvious from the start that she had a submissive nature. She was wearing a black top and a long beige skirt, in linen that was just thin enough to see the contours of her dark underwear underneath. I remember thinking she had a very nice body and an extremely spankable ass, as I was walking behind her on the way to my suite.
The next morning, I was awoken by the noise of some workmen, who where putting up a bamboo fence, a little further from my room. When I passed reception and she asked my how my night had been, I said it was good, but I had been disturbed by the noise. She apologised for the inconvenience, and seemed genuinely concerned.
Later that evening, I was sitting in a common area after diner, when she came back, to ask if I had had problems with the internet connection as well, like another guest who had been complaining. I told her the connection had been very instable, sometimes it was really good, and sometimes even skype wouldn’t connect. She seemed very distressed about it, most likely because the other guest wasn’t to friendly with her. I asked her what system they used, and gave her some advise on what could cause the problem. She was very grateful for my patient and friendly approach, and apologised again for the inconvenience it caused.
I looked up to her, as she was standing next to the seat I was in, slowly letting my looks go over her legs – she was wearing a tight legging now – her belly and breasts, into her eyes, and said, with a little smile ‘well, you’re lucky they don’t use corporal punishment on managers in Zambia’. (for the readers, corporal punishment is used in schools – I should note, I am strongly against that ; for me, CP should be reserved for adults).
For a second or 2 she looked confused, didn’t really know how to behave herself – but then she smiled apologetic, and said ‘yes, lucky for me’, and – without being aware of it, she lowered her head and look, unconsciously assuming a good submissive position. This was all the encouragement I needed.
But we’re not Zambians, I said. Are we?
She looked up into my eyes, still with the lowered head, and I could see all kinds of sentiments in here eyes, ranging from disbelief and discomfort, over curiosity and surprise, all the way to excitement and craving.
What do you mean?, she asked.
Well, I said, we are European, and more importantly, you are the manager of a hotel that fails to accommodate my very basic needs as a business traveller, which is to have a good internet connection. You are failing at your job, and I suffer the consequences from that failure. That is not acceptable, and I can not just let that go.
At this point she was even more confused. I was speaking in a very friendly and supportive, yet stern and strict manner to her, as a master or mentor would do – but at the same time I made her very aware of her her shortcomings. Unlike the other guest, however, I wasn’t asking for a solution for the problem, I was just pointing it out.
She clearly didn’t know how to react, and started mumbling something in the line of ‘compensation’, a price reduction for the room. I smiled, and said ‘that is not what I had in mind, young lady’.
And then she understood. She looked at me again with those emotions-filled eyes and asked ‘what did you have in mind, Sir’?
I stopped smiling now, and said ‘well you know that fence they were building this morning, the noise that woke me up? Why don’t you go and see if they left some bamboo rods there, say about 1 meter long and half a centimeter thick at the thinnest end – and bring one to my room.’
Her eyes widened, and her smile disappeared as well.
‘Yes Sir, right away’, she said.
The next morning, I was awoken by the noise of some workmen, who where putting up a bamboo fence, a little further from my room. When I passed reception and she asked my how my night had been, I said it was good, but I had been disturbed by the noise. She apologised for the inconvenience, and seemed genuinely concerned.
Later that evening, I was sitting in a common area after diner, when she came back, to ask if I had had problems with the internet connection as well, like another guest who had been complaining. I told her the connection had been very instable, sometimes it was really good, and sometimes even skype wouldn’t connect. She seemed very distressed about it, most likely because the other guest wasn’t to friendly with her. I asked her what system they used, and gave her some advise on what could cause the problem. She was very grateful for my patient and friendly approach, and apologised again for the inconvenience it caused.
I looked up to her, as she was standing next to the seat I was in, slowly letting my looks go over her legs – she was wearing a tight legging now – her belly and breasts, into her eyes, and said, with a little smile ‘well, you’re lucky they don’t use corporal punishment on managers in Zambia’. (for the readers, corporal punishment is used in schools – I should note, I am strongly against that ; for me, CP should be reserved for adults).
For a second or 2 she looked confused, didn’t really know how to behave herself – but then she smiled apologetic, and said ‘yes, lucky for me’, and – without being aware of it, she lowered her head and look, unconsciously assuming a good submissive position. This was all the encouragement I needed.
But we’re not Zambians, I said. Are we?
She looked up into my eyes, still with the lowered head, and I could see all kinds of sentiments in here eyes, ranging from disbelief and discomfort, over curiosity and surprise, all the way to excitement and craving.
What do you mean?, she asked.
Well, I said, we are European, and more importantly, you are the manager of a hotel that fails to accommodate my very basic needs as a business traveller, which is to have a good internet connection. You are failing at your job, and I suffer the consequences from that failure. That is not acceptable, and I can not just let that go.
At this point she was even more confused. I was speaking in a very friendly and supportive, yet stern and strict manner to her, as a master or mentor would do – but at the same time I made her very aware of her her shortcomings. Unlike the other guest, however, I wasn’t asking for a solution for the problem, I was just pointing it out.
She clearly didn’t know how to react, and started mumbling something in the line of ‘compensation’, a price reduction for the room. I smiled, and said ‘that is not what I had in mind, young lady’.
And then she understood. She looked at me again with those emotions-filled eyes and asked ‘what did you have in mind, Sir’?
I stopped smiling now, and said ‘well you know that fence they were building this morning, the noise that woke me up? Why don’t you go and see if they left some bamboo rods there, say about 1 meter long and half a centimeter thick at the thinnest end – and bring one to my room.’
Her eyes widened, and her smile disappeared as well.
‘Yes Sir, right away’, she said.
46-50, M