LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Sarah of the CSA
"CSA call center. How may I help you?"

It had been a long day at the Central Spanking Administration headquarters, but the calls kept coming.

"Yes, ma'am... I see... uh-huh... I understand how you feel... oh, you're absolutely right... yes. And may I have your address please? Ok... ok... ok." he replied, typing continuously. "Got it. Yes, ma'am, we'll be sending an agent right out. It's up to you, ma'am, whether you want to be there. Yes, soon. I understand completely."

Sighing heavily, the dispatcher hung up the phone. "So, Charlie," he asked his partner, "who we got available in Zone 23?"

"Just a sec - pulling it up. Uh, is it a juvie?"

"Nope - Class III. Definitely a Class III."

"You're not going to believe this - only Agent available in 23 is Palmer."

"You're kidding, right? We can't send Palmer on a Class III."

"No, I'm not kidding. And why can't we? She's been here two years. Two. She's got to step up some time."

"Damned budget cuts. I knew something like this was going to happen. You call her then. I want no part of this."

Charlie dialed. The phone rang... and rang... and then a pick-up. "Hello, Palm-... uh, hello? Hello?" The line had gone dead. He tried the number again, but this time there was no answer. Now what?

The other dispatcher motioned to him. "Palmer on #2 for you, via a land line."

"Stein here. Yes, Palmer. What the hell happened? Your cell phone... in the toilet? Oh, great. Now listen here, I have a Class III for you. Yes, you heard right - a Class III. Now pay attention, I'll give you the specifics." Charlie slowly read the details of the complaint off the screen. "You'll be going to..." Click. Charlie leaned back and sighed, shaking his head.

"Palmer for you again, Charlie, on #4."

Recovering his composure, he spoke clearly and deliberately, "The address is..."

---oOo---
Sarah was almost giddy from excitement. Her first Class III assignment - solo! For a year and a half now, following training, she had been stuck handling juveniles and 'assisting' other agents on other cases. It had been so frustrating when her boss, just two days earlier, had said it would probably be yet another few months before she'd get even any Class II cases on her own. And now, here she was with a Class III! Someone must have finally recognized her skills and told ol' walrus-face to quit holding her back

Finishing dressing, she checked herself out in the full-length mirror behind her closet door: black business suit (the standard CSA uniform), high-heeled pumps (to raise her up to just under 6' - physical presence was important), and the final touch - dark glasses (not exactly an agency requirement, but how she loved the look!).