Taxes & Penalties

"These are the penalties, Ma'am" she explained matter-of-factly, "This is what you agreed to."


"Butt this can't be ra-ra-right?!" she protested, scanning the room as if some form of magical salvation would appear at any moment.
  
"Mrs. Angela Gramutandinetti did you not sign the documents agreeing to alternative resolutions? Is this not your signature?!"


"Yy...yes...butt..." she searched for an answer that would not reveal the truth. The truth that, like so many things in her life, she had simply failed to take responsibility; failed to read the fine print. Who had time for that anyways? She certainly didn't. She had places to be, like her weekly 4 o'clock hair color and high-lighting appointment that she was going to be late too if this hard-ass bureaucrat kept insisting. 


"I.R.S. Title 26 § 7201 clearly states that the presiding Special Investigations Agent has discretion in choosing how to fulfill the penalties within the options listed" she explained sharply, clearly uninterested in hearing any elementary excuse for fighting the inevitable. 

And with the facts reiterated, the stern woman grabbed the dainty arm of the only other person in the small claustrophobic office and pulled her down and over her lap in such precise choreography had anyone witnessed it, they would have thought the entire event had been rehearsed time and again.
 
"You can't do this!" she protested scissor kicking her long bare legs against an invisible tide  sending her heels scattering across the small crowded office.


"You are bound to your obligations and your signature binds you to fulfillment of those obligations and penalties, therefore Mrs. Gramutandinetti shall we proceed?" With the unarguable answer given, the Agent tugged at the silky dress struggling to get both a firm grip and keep the dress hiked up. After a minute of futile efforts she gave up and instead reached under the dress and began fishing around.


"Hey! Hey! Wait!" the perky blond struggled in disbelief as she felt the Agent grab onto the dainty waistband of her panties. 
"Just you wait 'till I tell my husband!" she huffed in adolescent arrogance, "He has lawyers, you know!"


"Go right ahead. You have a right to, but remember two things; you gave up your right to legal representation when you decided to settle the case. And secondly, and most importantly, your signature indicates your agreement to alternative resolutions. Plus as you stated you wanted to handle this yourself and not let your husband know that these taxes, plus all associated and accumulated penalties were all a result of your negligence. Buying all those items at wholesale when you had no intent on selling them and failing to pay taxes and secondly, failing to send in the initial response in a timely manner..."


"However, if you want to call him go right ahead, it is your right, but there is nothing he can do for you now." The Agent rambled without any fluctuation in her tone merely adjusting and readjusting the client over her lap for best position.


"Pleasse You can't ddo tthis! TThhhere hass ttoo beee something else?!" 


"No. Actually there isn't," she crossed her hands and placed them on the small of Angela's back while bouncing her knees impatiently, all causing Angela to struggle further with her balance and keep from falling off the no-nonsense Agent's stern lap.


"Your husband has a right to come here and witness the discipline phase or we can simply send him documentation that the penalties have been settled. Those are your only choices now."


"Pppleease! I'm not sure I can handle this...." she pleaded once more.


"OK, Mrs.Gramutandinett, I can understand your situation and your hesitation. You are obviously a woman who has grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle that your husband obviously has afforded, and you taken advantage of...
Yet, you also seem to be a woman who appears not only remorseful, but obviously hesitant to the manner in which this account is to be settled; therefore -"


The young woman, still draped over the lap of her government enforcer like a rag doll, suddenly perked up in hope. Had the stiff Agent had a change of heart and was she about to show her some mercy? 


"Well I can do you a favor and tear up the signed consent forms. Instead, as previously discussed, you simply write us a check for 21,313 dollars and 4 cents?"


"I can't write that check, he'll...he'll..."


"Very well then, if you can't cover the check, we have no choice, but to proceed with the payment as planned. Remember time is money" the Agent released a seemingly uncharacteristic giggle.


"Ohhh, gawwd," she shrieked realizing what was now the inevitable.


"Sorry Ma'am, just a bit of accounting humor" the Agent shed her temporary grin mistaking the protest.


"No, I meant gawd, I..I just cann't...please! You can't dooo thISS!"


"Don't worry Dear, I have settled plenty of cases this way," the Agent continued now with a firm grip on the silk material and unceremoniously lifted the client's skirt fully over her waist exposing her plump toned bottom.

"Nooo! My husband will...will...He is going to blow!" she raised her voice as her panties simultaneously were lowered. 


"Actually, in my experience, husbands have been very understanding and supportive of the process when they learn of the settlement agreements. And yes they do blow, but in a different way." The Agent explained further while fingering the soft fabric of Angela's pink sheer panties.

.

................ 



A carousel of images flashed through Agent McKay's mind, the visions of squealing blubbering women being spanked. She sat up with pride knowing that not only had she been doing her civil service, but she had been dealing out her own form of justice in the name of good ol' fashion marriage equality.

Did she take pleasure in humiliating those spoilt, arrogant women by exposing their bare bottoms, and subjecting them to a good firm spanking? Did she enjoy the view of their tight bottoms bouncing and jiggling while they protested and begged her to stop? Did she enjoy watching their delicate, pale bottoms redden quickly? Witnessing first hand the penitent women squirm in utter discomfort and as they all eventually became more concerned about finding some temporary relief more so than their humility; clenching, flexing, and ultimately relaxing their cheeks allowing for all of their most intimate areas to greet the unforgiving fluorescent lighting? Officially she could not state her opinions on this as she was simply following orders and doing her job.

As far as what she thought about at the end of the day when her job was done and while she reviewed her files of documented settlements; pictures of adult women standing in the corner with panties at half-staff with bright red bottoms on full display. Close up pictures of the well-spanked cheeks as well as full "selfie-like" poses as they looked over their shoulders tearfully blushing while holding their skirts and dresses up as instructed (all for verification purposes of course)... Well yes, she would sum it up as she often did to her friends over drinks, "Of course there is always satisfaction in a job a well done".


................


"Is it going to hurt?" Angela looked up at her government enforcer, wide-eyed and pleading.


"Now Dear, really? What a silly question." Agent McKay smiled her first genuine smile all afternoon. Peering over her shoulder, Angela found hope in that smile if for a brief moment.


"Of course it is going to hurt!" Agent McKay snapped, "This is supposed to be a settlement, a repayment of penalties, and to be dealt in that manner. You will be penalized! But don't worry dear, I have had plenty of experience spanking. It'll be precise, effective and most importantly, memorable."

"
I'll tell you a little secret young lady. I am always surprised that some of the biggest cry-babies have been those women who regularly pay for private trainers. What do you think of those type of training sessions; do you think they are effective? You would know, wouldn't you? Didn't I see a write-off of expenses for a private trainer on your forms? I guess those so called "boot-camp" tough workouts are nothing in comparison to the ass busting you are about to experience."
With that Agent McKay's military training took over her civil duties as she focused on the objective at hand. Angela leaned forward as her exposed bottom felt a temporary chill, that was probably not due to the office air conditioner. This mere seconds before a firestorm of open palm slaps rained down against a temporarily pale target, resulting in a sudden buildup of heat rising on both sets of her cheeks. 

 
"Owww! Ohhh...Ow! Owww! Please!"


"Just try to relax Dear," Agent McKay instructed between echoing slaps to Angela's bare flesh, "I shouldn't need to remind you that you'll be here for quite awhile, there is a rather large balance to settle." 


"Oww! Gawd!...Ohhh! This isn't fair!" she pouted scanning the room for some form of salvation, or if nothing else for a trace of her heels which had been kicked across the room in the struggle. She might be leaving without her dignity, but there was no way she was leaving with her Louboutins behind.
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Hope you all enjoyed this timely vignette as Tax Day approaches. So let me know your thoughts.