Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Tuesday, August 16, 2016 -


... and other spanking tales
by Philip Kemp
Published: Aug 1, 2016
Words: 24,495
Category: general
Orientation: M/F
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I was 18 when I got my first proper job - in the lingerie department at Pearson's, the biggest clothing store in town. It wasn't, to be honest, entirely through my own merits. Hugh Pearson, who owned the store, was an old friend of my dad's - in fact they'd been in the army together during the war. I knew his daughter Marion, too - she'd been a few years ahead of me at school. So when I finished school and was looking for work, Dad had a word with Hugh - and there I was, with a real proper job that paid all of £22 a week. Doesn't sound like much these days, I know - but this was back in 1963, when money went a whole lot further than it does today. I was still living at home, too - so after I'd given Mum £8 a week towards my keep, I found I still had plenty to spend on whatever I liked.

Maybe that was the cause of my downfall. Pretty soon I got into the habit of thinking I could have anything I wanted. So in the run-up to Christmas that year I was spending quite freely - on stuff for myself, my family and friends. Until, with Christmas still a week away, I suddenly found I'd run out of funds, four days before pay-day. Luckily I'd bought all my presents, so I thought I could manage for a bit. And then - temptation struck.

Temptation was a beautiful pair of panties of emerald-green silk - French culottes, and designed by Givenchy too, so as you can imagine they didn't come cheap. They weren't even in Pearson's either, but in the A La Mode store down the street. The moment I saw them I wanted them with an uncontrollable longing, especially since they were just my size. But they only had one pair left in stock, and with Christmas coming up and customers spending freely, I was pretty sure someone would snap them up.

Of course, I could probably have got an advance on my wages. That would have been the sensible thing to do. Mrs Jenkins, the head of department, was a warm, friendly woman and very approachable, and I'm sure she'd have agreed without any hesitation. But I thought she might ask what I wanted it for - and stupidly, I felt I'd appear 'shallow', wanting money for something so frivolous as a pair of French silk panties. Looking back now at my teenage self, I can see what an idiot I was being. But at the time, I made the fatal choice.

So one day just before lunchtime, when I was sure nobody was looking, I slipped some money out of the till. I told myself that I was just borrowing it, and that come pay-day I'd pay it back. Then as soon as it was my lunch hour I shot off to A La Mode, praying that my silken joy hadn't been sold.