Jane Emory was a nineteen-year-old college sophomore when she discovered she enjoyed getting a sound spanking on her behind. It was notable that she had never been punished in that way by her parents, so she had no inkling about what the experience might be like. The first person ever to do the act on her was one of her bosses, a Mister Donald Marrow, who was a senior manager at the bank where she worked.

Jane had decided to earn some extra cash that year by becoming a teller at a branch of the Eastern New York Savings Bank in Manhattan’s Stuyvesant Town. It was only a few blocks from her parent’s apartment and she often worked after school. At that time, in October 1976, she was attending a commuter school in the CUNY system, Hunter College uptown. She was actively seeking a boyfriend, but she was still a virgin at that point.

She was a tall, big – overweight, to be accurate – girl with dark, almost black hair. Often she pinned her hair to the top of her head, but at other times she let it hang down below her shoulders. Despite her heaviness, she was oddly proud of her thick thighs and ample rear-end. Often at work or school, she’d wear tight trousers to show off the assets of her hindquarters. At school, she’d sometimes wear tight designer blue jeans. She liked the idea of guys noticing her big butt cheeks and her ass crack.

It seemed that the guys who were most appreciative of her thick roundness were often Black or Puerto Rican, and she noticed the appreciative glances they would give her when she was walking around. In the fall of ‘76, she was considering dating one of them from the bank, and if that went well, then she might have sex with him.

There was one Italian guy named Vince at Hunter who had also seemed to notice her and he had just invited her to join one of the campus newspapers. He was a lot thinner than Jane, but that didn’t seem to bother him. Often at night, after the lights were out, Jane would take out her hairbrush and masturbate while imagining Vince or one of the other guys she knew at work or school having intercourse with her. She found that she was multi-orgasmic and could easily climax at least three times during one of these sessions.

None of her fantasies were kinky in any way; none of them involved BSDM activities. In those pre-Internet days, it was difficult to get information about “offbeat” sexual preferences that today are considered routine. Jane barely knew anything about the topic.

Jane got a first-hand lesson in these activities one day in late October. The basic reason was some contretemps involving her teller job. It was the kind of position that required patience in dealing with customers, and Jane could get more than a bit mouthy at times. Whatever she said to that particular woman wasn’t that extreme, but the lady took offense to it and reported it to the bank. Mr. Marrow was responsible for customer service, and the story got back to him.

Thus on one rainy afternoon in late October, she got called for a visit to Marrow at the main bank headquarters in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. It was a rather short ride there on the J train, and Jane fretted a bit on the outbound journey. She was sure she wasn’t going to be fired, but she expected to get a good talking to about what she had done. Any kind of physical punishment never crossed her mind.

When she arrived at his second-floor office, Marrow asked her to close the door. She hung her tan raincoat on a coat rack and he invited her to sit down. She was wearing a long-sleeved white blouse that buttoned in the front. In keeping with her almost unconscious desire to show off her lower parts, she was wearing tight black trousers with white stripes. Her footgear was a pair of black ankle boots.

Donald Marrow was a tall, rangy man of about fifty who had been with the bank for over thirty years. For several minutes they sat there, with him behind his desk, and they discussed bank policy and what Jane had done to violate its procedures.

At one point he said, “Now, Miss Emory, it’s important that tellers are polite to their customers at all times, even if they feel they have been provoked in some way.”

“I know Mister Marrow, I shouldn’t have behaved like that, and I admit that I was wrong.” Actually, Jane believed that the aggrieved Mrs. Frenchel, whom she had known for quite some time, was a real bitch and she was impressed that she had controlled her temper as long as she had. “I promise, sir it will never happen again.”

“I know that it will never happen again, but to assure that I am going to have to punish you today so that the memory stays fresh in your mind.”

Jane had no idea of what he was referring to. The most she could imagine was that she might be suspended for a few days. She wasn’t supporting herself yet, so such an action would not be that serious. Thus she just sat there and waited for him to continue.

“Thus Miss Emory, I’m going to have to deal with you quite severely today, right here and right now.” Then he said, “You have no idea of what I’m talking about, do you?”

“No sir, I don’t.”

He sighed as if reluctant to describe it in detail. Then he said, “Okay, let me get to it already. Hear me out before you ask any questions.”

After a bit of fidgeting, he said, “There are two parts involved. In the first, I’m going to take you over my lap in this chair, and use my hand to spank you on the buttocks. It will be quite long and hard, believe me.”

Jane was so surprised that she wasn’t able to respond immediately. Marrow continued talking, “After that comes the second part.” He reached back to get a wooden paddle on the credenza behind him. “You might call this paddle an instrument for ‘school swats.’ That’s because they still do this to naughty students in some parts of the country. You will stand up, bend over, and put your hands on the cushion of that chair over there. Then you will get at least a dozen paddle strokes on your rear-end.”

He added, “For both sessions, you will keep your trousers on. It would be indecent to bare your behind so that I could see it.”

The young teller got her voice back, “You can’t do any of that to me, Mister Marrow. It’s not legal for one thing.”

“Technically you’re right, but we can make the situation difficult for you – I mean for you to work here. We can deny that we ever proposed it, and we can suspend you or even fire you if it came to that.” For several minutes they argued back and forth about the issue

At one point Marrow said, “Jane, be a big girl and take your discipline. When it’s all over, you can go home and it will be like nothing ever happened. It’s not going to be on your employment record or noted anywhere else in the company. It’s a one-time-only event.”

Finally, Jane decided that it would be simpler to just accept her discipline rather than trying to fight with Mister Marrow and the Eastern New York Savings Bank. In thirty or forty minutes I can go home and forget all about this whole incident. She simply said, “All right, Mr. Marrow, I will accept these actions as long as the whole thing ends today, as you said.”

“Good, you’re a smart girl as I already knew. You have my word that this will never be mentioned by me to anyone else in the company.

Then he continued, “As I said, you don’t have to take down your trousers because it would be wrong for me to see a young girl’s exposed backside. However, I can assure you that these spankings and paddlings will be hard ones, and I’m sure you’re going to feel the impacts through your clothes.”

He took a moment to remember something, “When I have to do this to a young man, I do make him bare his bottom for the beating.”

Jane said, “You mean you’ve done this kind of thing to employees before?”

“Not often, maybe two or three times per year. I find it’s a very effective way to keep workers well-behaved without going through a lot of unnecessary bureaucratic rigmarole.”

Jane still thought all this was very strange, but perhaps it happened in more companies than she had imagined. Possibly it was more prevalent in earlier decades, but people hushed it up now.