When Pam heard the announcement that Jo Bennett was coming into the office today, she had a strong feeling that Jo was not happy at all. The press had gotten wind of Sabre printers catching fire, and it was all over the news. Every channel on the East coast was carrying the story. All the way down to Florida.

The story first broke while Jim was watching the evening news in the living room. "Hey, Pam! Come see this!" he called into the kitchen. She set down the knife and onion and headed toward the TV. Glimpsing the Sabre logo, she stopped short behind the couch where Jim was sitting. "Oh, shit." she thought. Jim turned his head toward her, "Can you believe this? It sounds like the information originated from our branch," and he faced the screen again. Pam took some quiet deep breaths to calm herself and then perched on the arm of the loveseat. "Wow . . . this is going to make things—interesting at work . . ."

For close to a week, she mentally kicked herself.

"Why did I tell that woman?"

"Who even cares about her stupid trip to Vietnam really?"

"And I knew she was married to someone in local media!"

"I am so screwed."

"How am I going to tell Jim?"

"How am I going to tell Jo?"

"Maybe it's time to relocate . . . to Italy . . . pretty sure they have houses with terraces . . . "

The door slammed as Jo whisked into the office with her Great Danes. The sharp noise startled Pam and her coffee sloshed onto her desk. Jim glanced at her as she mopped up her spill with a few tissues, but she never looked his direction. Her emotions had been on edge for a few days and Jim was beginning to piece it together. He only hoped his instincts were wrong.

Jim watched Jo slap the newspaper article directly onto Pam's painting as she bellowed at the entire office. Jo was pissed. Expecting an indignant look, he turned toward Pam in shock. Her head was bent forward, eyes brimming with tears, as she nibbled her thumbnail.

That was it.

As soon as the conference room door closed behind Michael and Jo, he leaned forward and asked in a low tone, "Do you wanna take a walk with me?" She touched the corners of her eyes to prevent tears from escaping, then gave a slight nod. Jim led the way to the stairwell and Pam appreciated the fact that Jo made everyone so anxious that every head was down, focusing on work.

He closed the door. "What is it?"

She looked at the ceiling and took deep, even breaths. All she wanted to do was not cry.

"Is it about Jo?"

"Yes," she answered. "It was me."

"What was you?" Realization flashed across his face. "You were the leak?"

Her voice wavers. "Okay, I'm talking to this woman at daycare . . ."

"Uh-huh."

"She's telling me all about her amazing trip to Vietnam. I have nothing. And before I knew it, I was telling her that our printers catch on fire. Spontaneously."

Worry causes his voice to rise, and reverberate through the stairwell. "Pam, no. Why did you do that?"

His escalated tone caused her tears to release and a dull ache knotted her stomach. She swiped at her cheeks and swallowed hard.

"Ummm . . . it gets worse," she sighs, steeling herself. "Her husband is a reporter."

Jim abruptly leans back against the wall and stares at her. He know what this means for her and it's not good.

"Jim, I'm scared. Jo is questioning all those people and they're all innocent!" Thinking of her friends' anxiety, she resolved, "I can't stand here anymore. I'm going up there and telling her."

She's heading up the stairs when she feels Jim's warm hand on her shoulder. "No. Don't. I'll tell her it was me. I've gotten the paddle enough times that I already know what to expect."

"If she finds out that we both lied, we could lose our jobs. And that would be so much worse."

He gave her a stubborn look that slowly faded in agreement. She was right. "Then I'm going to be with you each step of the way," he emphasized. "I'm not going to leave you."

She melted into his arms and sniffled as he rubbed her back. He was her rock. He was her safe place. And he was going to see her through this. Calm began to spread through her body.

"Let's go," she said, taking his hand.

Pam tapped on the conference room door. "Come in!" Jo called. Kevin was sitting across the table from her and his head was sweating profusely.

"Jo, can I talk to you?" Pam asked.

"Sure thing, sweetie," Jo crooned. To Kevin, she said, "All right, you can go now. Shoo." He gulped a sigh of relief and clapped Jim on the back on the way out the door.

"Open or closed, Jo?" he asked.

Observing Jim and Pam's expressions, she clipped, "Closed."

The door snapped shut and Jo gestured to the chairs across the table. "By all means, have a seat."

Pam sat in the chair that Jim pulled out for her and waited until he was seated before she began her confession. After a few false starts, she began. "Umm . . . Jo? I was the leak to the press . . . "

Death stare from Jo. Under the table, Jim took Pam's hand and stroked it with his thumb, willing bravery into her soul.

"Continue." she said.

"I'm so sorry. It happened at my daughter's daycare. I was having a conversation with another mother and it came out that our printers were catching fire and the problem wasn't fixed yet." She paused. "And . . . her husband is a reporter."

"Dammit." Jo swore. "Pamela!"

Jim leaned forward and crossed his arms on the tabletop. "Jo, with all due respect, I think that you should go easy on her. There's no guarantee that she was the only-"

"Enough," Jo barked. She steepled her fingers and considered them both in silence. Pam squirmed in her chair.

"All right. Here's what's gonna happen," she pressed the tip of her index finger on the table. "Our IT and PR divisions are all over this situation, making improvements and attempting to quiet the press. So that part is already being taken care of." She pointed at Pam. "But Pam, I see no way to rectify your actions other than to paddle your behind. And I have every inclination to do it out there in front of your co-workers as an example."

Her heart leapt into her throat. "Oh, please no!" she begged, "I can't-"

"Hey," Jim interjected, leaning forward again.

Jo snapped her fingers in his direction. "James Halpert. She is your wife and I realize that. But you would be wise not to intervene again. Do we understand each other?"

Jim didn't budge and Pam could see that he would try to protect her by not backing down. She touched his forearm and whispered, "Jim, don't." His hazel eyes connected with hers and after several seconds, he exhaled sharply and sat back.

Pam placed her attention on Jo. "I am begging you. Please don't spank me in front of everyone. Please."

"You're going to have to let me do some thinking about that one. But a paddling is definitely happening; make no mistake about that." She opened a file folder and dismissed them with the final words, "You'll have my answer by 4:30."

Jim and Pam stood and headed to their desks together. Pam was pale as she tried to still her shaking hands. Dwight leaned forward to stare at her. "What is wrong with you?" he demanded.

"Stop." Jim warned.

Pam wasn't able to get any work accomplished for the rest of the afternoon, as her absent-mindedness was causing her to make countless silly mistakes. She just wanted to go home. At 4:30 exactly, Pam's desk phone rang.

"All right, missy. Listen closely. I have decided to grant mercy in this situation. Public paddling is out. And I want you to stay after work."

"What about Jim?"

"He can stay, too. I'll expect you in the conference room at 5:15 sharp."

"I understand," Pam said, and hung up the phone. She picked the receiver right back up and dialed her mother's number. Forcing nonchalance, she spoke, "Hi Mom. Would you mind picking up Cece from daycare this afternoon? Jim and I both have to stay late." She paused, listening. "Thanks. There's a jar of bananas and extra formula in her diaper bag. We'll call you before we leave."

Hanging up, she and Jim looked at each other. No words were needed.

The office was quiet. Jim had deflected all questions about them staying late by immediately changing the subject. It worked on everyone, except Dwight. Jim could tell that he had figured it out but, for once, Dwight held his tongue. The room barely cleared by 5:13. Pam's knee jittered under her desk as she watched both the departure of her office mates and the clock.

"You ready?" he asked.

"No. Not really." she said, fear in her green eyes. "I'm afraid I won't be able to handle it."

"I'll be there with you, sweetheart."

Jo was sitting at the conference room table with the paddle laying in front of her. Pam had seen it once or twice, but it seemed bigger than she remembered. She and Jim began to sit down when Jo ordered, "Stay standing, Pam." She clasped her hands in front of her and waited.

"Pamela," Jo began, "I've already looked through your personnel file and you've signed the corporal punishment form. So let's just get on with it."

"Yes, ma'am," she replied, eyes downcast and knees trembling.

Jo came around the table and took her firmly by the upper arm in a maternal fashion. "Lean over the back of this chair and put your hands flat on the seat. Make certain you stay in position."

With a lump in her throat, she obeyed. The next thing she felt was her skirt being raised. Standing up immediately, she protested, "NO!"

"This is within the parameters of corporate policy," Jo stated. "Now either you lift it up or I will."

Pam just stared at her like a deer in the headlights and Jo became angry. "Now, missy!"

"Jim?" Pam pleaded.

"Baby, you've got to do this or it will just just make it worse," he said. "Here. I'll help. Turn around and bend back over the chair." Once she was back in position, Jim gently raised her skirt to her waist, exposing her white panties through her hosiery. "God." she whispered.

Jim immediately walked around to face Pam. "I'm here," he said, dropping to her level and taking her hands in his.

"Enough nonsense now," Jo proclaimed, resting the paddle on Pam's butt. "Here we go."

SMACK! Pam's entire body lunged forward in shock. Her curls bounced and she lifted one foot off the floor for a few seconds.

"Ohhhh . . . ow!"

SMACK!

"Mmmmmplease!"

SMACK!

"Oh . . . God. I . . . can't-"

SMACK!

She tried to pull her hands from Jim but he held firm. "I can't let go, Baby. Take your punishment."

"It hurts!" she wailed, "It hurts so bad!"

SMACK!

Pam shrieked and began sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Jo! I'm so sorry!"

SMACK!

Jo was intent of teaching a lesson and ignored her pleas.

SMACK!

That swat took away Pam's breath. She gasped for air and then a piercing cry filled the room. She struggled once more to free her wrists.

"Jim . . . please . . . help me . . ."

Tears filled Jim's eyes and he began weeping softly as well. He knew from experience that any type of struggling or interference only doubled the punishment.

"Be strong. Just be strong, okay?" his voice cracked, "I've got you."

Jo smirked and announced, "Okay, missy. Panties down for the last four. You do it or I'm gonna do it. Or . . . Jim can do it."

Pam's wails increased in volume.

Jim knew if he let go of Pam's wrists for even a second, she'd get out of position and everything would restart. He quickly said, "Jo, you'd better do it."

"Nooo!" Pam cried out in humiliation as she felt the cool skin of the older woman's fingers hook the waistbands of both her pantyhose and panties. Before she knew it, her ass was bare in front of the CEO of Dunder Mifflin-Sabre.

"Last four swats. Quick and fast. Brace yourself." Jo warned.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

All four swats landed before Pam even had a chance to breathe.

"Owwww! Please! I'm so sorry!" she bawled, feeling her knees buckle.

Jo said, "Okay, Jim, you can release her." Through his tears, he could see that his grip had turned her wrists red and his stomach turned. Pam's legs gave out as she collapsed to the floor, sobbing and completely oblivious to her nudity. Jim crawled to the other side of the chair and cradled her in his lap.

Jo said, "Don't forget about the aftercare box in Michael's desk. And Pam . . . I hope you learned your lesson."

"Yes ma'am," Pam sniffled, hiding her face in Jim's chest.

Jo gathered her things, including the paddle, and left the room quietly. After a few minutes, they heard a faint whistle and watched the pair of Great Danes pass by the window.

Jim let Pam continue to cry and sniffle for several minutes. When her sobs got softer and her tears began to dry, he smoothed his hand through her hair and murmured, "I'll be right back."

He located the tub of thick Vitamin E cream in the nondescript box in the bottom drawer of Michael's desk. Not many people knew it was there. Michael couldn't even bring himself to talk about it. Jim sat back down on the carpet with his legs outstretched. "Lay over my lap," he said. She shook her head in fear. Holding up the tub, he quickly said, "Just for this." Pam wearily draped herself over his legs and laid her head on her crossed arms.

Jim sighed. Pam's ass was deep red and nearly purple in a few spots. "Baby, I'm going to do my best not to hurt you," he assured her, scooping out a sizable amount of lotion. He rubbed his hands together briefly and with great amounts of tender care, he began to smooth over her bottom. She sucked in her breath in a whisper. "Easy," she begged. Gradually, he worked the cream into her skin, stopping whenever he heard her whimper.

He helped her work her panties and hose up over her bottom. Pam's eyes were still red and puffy, and she began to cry again. "Jim, there is no way I can sit on the seats of our car. They're too hard."

"Got you covered on that one," he said, returning to Michael's office. He came back out holding a soft pillow that was kept in the bottom of the cabinet. "I present to you . . . the Spanking Pillow." She smiled through the tears and accepted it.

"Thank you . . . And Jim? Will you take me home and then go pick up Cece? I don't want my mom to see me like this."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Sure thing. And I am bringing Chili's home for dinner."

He put his arm around her and she rested her head against his body as they walked to the car.