The meeting on my calendar last Wednesday looked somewhat ominous — “Please plan to attend a meeting to share some important news about our organization.” I’ve seen those before, but I’ve never seen one where I’m the only guest, and it was in my boss’s office. I didn’t think I was in trouble — my annual review had been the day before, and it had gone very well — but I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Then I heard the voice of our HR Business Partner and I knew.

My time at my day job ends on March 29.

It sucks, yes, but there are bright sides. I have a very generous severance package (not a golden parachute, unfortunately) which includes several months of pay, health insurance, and outplacement services. Of course, I could also get another job at my current company, in which case the severance package is null and void, but as much as I want to keep paying into the pension plan it might be time for a bigger change. And, in the meantime, I now have the possibility of a few weeks off to spend writing staring me in the face. I’d like to start working again by May 1, but we’ll see what happens.

The meeting of doom was at 9am. I had my one-on-one meetings with my team that afternoon to go over their annual reviews, but in those meetings I also had to share that I was being let go. Fortunately my boss took care of informing the two-thirds of them who were also being let go, so I didn’t have to do that; we just talked, commiserated, and shared our feelings.

I was pretty numb all that day. I didn’t do a ton of work; I just sat there playing Solitaire on my phone and talking to my partners. Partner 1 and I usually have our date night on Wednesdays, so she was coming over anyway, but she promised she’d help take care of me if I needed help being taken care of. Some mention was also made about a good spanking being helpful. Since my daughter was having dinner with a friend, we had the house to ourselves, so we took advantage of the time.

Wearing a very sexy pair of pink panties with strawberries printed on it, Partner 1 went over my knee for a long, firm hand spanking, followed by some swats from the motherfucker, some from the new stick-cane, some from the wooden spoon, and some from the bath brush. She was good and tenderized after that, and probably a little spacy, when we switched over to the scene-ender. I don’t know what got into her that night, but she wanted to break her personal record of scene-ender swats, which was 13.

She broke the overall record, which is now set at 25 swats (one more than DD‘s previous record of 24). There were several swats that made her half-stand-up and glare at me with a big pout — those were the best ones. And here are the results:

Another great thing about this photo is that you can see the mark from the motherfucker on her right upper thigh — it wrapped a bit, so it wasn’t my best swat, but the marks are delightful. Her thighs are also a little pink because I included them in the hand spanking portion of the evening.

And then, as they say in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “and after the spanking, the oral sex.” Lots and lots of it, both of us giving and receiving, followed by a super-hot fuck and some cuddles.

I didn’t think I was overly upset about losing my job — I wasn’t happy about it or anything, but I hadn’t felt frustrated or angry or sad. But maybe it came out in the spanking and the sex; we fucked quite vigorously. Or perhaps I just felt like that kind of sex that evening. Whatever the reason, it made for a memorable evening, which was followed by dinner, working on a book cover, Australian Lego Masters (the best Lego Masters, in my opinion), and more cuddles. The next morning, Partner 1’s bottom had bruises on it, and it was still nicely sore. I’d call that a positive result, and, on balance, not such a bad day after all.