She knew she had forgotten something. It was late and most of the staff of the Mode magazine offices had already left and Christina was about to as well, before realizing her phone wasn't on her. She groaned in frustration and stopped the elevator doors right before they closed her in. Good thing she checked her bag before going all the way down, Christina thought to herself, rushing back to the closet, before spotting something that made her stop in her tracks.

A man was rummaging through the drawers of one of the many cupboards containing the designer clothes meant to be featured in the magazine. It didn't seem like he had heard her, as he was still going at it, as casually as if this was his own house. Christina observed the shameless intruder, crossing her arms over her chest.

Unfortunately, she could recognize that pinstriped, brightly colored, lanky figure anywhere. It was Marc. She had lost count of how many times she had told him that the clothes in the closet were not up for grabs apart from the four times a year where the employees could sign up to get something, if it was available, under the supervision of the closet department managers like her. But that had never stopped him from asking, whinging or straight up stealing, or borrowing, as he called it, anyway.

Christina shook her head, the gall of him. The stealing wasn't even the worst of his crimes, far, far from it. He knew just how to push people's buttons, and never cared about anything other than his self-interest or mean-spirited entertainment. He was the most annoying coworker she'd ever had, and frankly, she was fed up.

She marched up to him at once. Marc didn't register the clicking of her shoes before her fingers had already clinched around his ear, abruptly pulling him upright, albeit in an uncomfortable position for the taller man.

"Ahh! Oh.. heyy, Christina," he grimaced, as he was spun around to face her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Just, looking around," he tried to squirm out of her grip, but she didn't allow him to just yet.

"I think I've told you before that you're not allowed to do that, haven't I?" she put her other hand on her hip, cocking an eyebrow.

"What is illegal about looking around?"

Christina narrowed her eyes at him.

"I think you know very well," she let go of his ear, which he immediately went to rub, pouting at the undignified way she'd chosen to get his attention. His relief being extremely short lived however, as Christina proceeded to grab a ruler from the desk and seize him by the elbow right after.

"You. Are. Not. Allowed. To. Steal. From. The. Closet," Christina scolded, snapping the wooden ruler against his thighs and butt. If there were no civil ways of getting him to listen, which she had tried plenty of, archaic methods it was!

"What are you- Ow! Christina, stop!" he twisted around, caught off guard by the sudden attack, "You're not allowed to hit me!"

"And you're not allowed to steal!" she retorted, laying a few more slaps at his slender things.

"Fine, fine, okay!" he tried to reconcile, flinching away from the swats, "I don't even have anything!"

He stopped trying to dodge her, instead raising up his open hands.

"I get it! See, I'm clean, you can stop swinging that ruler around!"

She did stop, pausing the ruler as her other hand stayed firmly gripped around his bony elbow. Confirming that his hands were indeed empty and giving him one more warning look, she was about to let go of him, before she noticed something else.

"What is this?" she pulled at a scarf that was poking from his pocket. She yanked it out, it was a Louis Vuitton piece they were about to feature in the next edition, "are you serious?"

"Ughh," Marc finally wrenched out of her grip, frowning as he rubbed his butt where the offending ruler had struck him, "fine, okay, you got me! Nothing gets past you! I'm surprised you're even here this late, don't you have a happy hour to rush to or something?"

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, bumping her shoulder as he pushed past her. He used an insult to try to hide how flustered he was, but it was clear how upset he'd gotten. Both because his plan didn't work and because getting smacked had definitely felt at least a little bit demeaning, but Christina knew he wasn't taking this seriously. He will pout and leave for today, but he will absolutely try stealing again once he thinks she's not around. She could bet that if she came back here after hours tomorrow, they'd run into each other yet again. But she didn't have the time nor energy for that. There was only so much disrespect she could put up with from a person before having enough of it. Her patience had run out, she'll deal with this little problem not sooner or later, but now.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Um, home?" he looked back at her, somewhat bemused, "didn't you want me to leave?"

"I wasn't done talking to you."

He stood in place, eyeing her cautiously, seemingly trying to gauge the tone of the situation.

"Okayy, what is this now? Are you trying to intimidate me?"

Christina wasn't sure if he was taunting her or genuinely trying to figure it out. Probably a bit of both. He may talk a big game, but if there ever was a possibility of him actually being in danger, he piped down real fast. Courage had never been one of his strong suits.

"Listen here you little weasel," she stalked up to him, rapidly closing the distance between them, "you have no respect for anyone apart from yourself, maybe except Wilhelmina since she keeps you on a short leash. But clearly not short enough if you keep sneaking in here and messing with the inventory every week, you know I'm responsible for it, right?"

He was subtly stepping backwards as Christina kept scolding him, getting in his face.

"When you're not whimpering at her feet, all you do is go around harassing everyone in your vicinity. Are you aware that we're adults in a workplace, not a playground for you to act out your high school bully fantasy? I don't know what you make of yourself, thinking you can get away with everything, but all you are is a small, insecure, pathetic little man and I am not putting up with this!" Christina jabbed a sharp finger in his chest as he had backed himself against a wall.

Of course, the change in his body language was already happening. One moment he was all flippant, the next, the bravado was gone. She was satisfied to see his eyes widening in fear. Not so big now, are we?

Marc felt his face getting hotter as Christina chewed him out. As much as he made fun of the drunken hag, he was certain she could throw a good hook if she wanted to. Surely all those visits to the pub and her Scottish blood meant she had at least some experience with a fistfight. He didn't know if that's what this was leading to, but he didn't want to find out. Yes, he was skilled in a verbal exchange but not in a physical one. She'd already slapped him with a ruler, so clearly violence wasn't off the table. He had to get out of there, even if that meant just letting Christina insult him like this.

"Okay," he responded, his mouth having gone dry, "if that's what you wanted to say. I… see. I'll leave the closet inventory to you, point taken."

His throat had that familiar tightness he felt any time Wilhelmina was mad at him. Marc was hoping Christina would take just a step back from him so he could slide away and huff his inhaler, but she hadn't backed down yet, still glaring at him with the same intensity.

"Oh you will, you will," Christina repeated, "but you will also take point of the fact that I'm not okay with you harassing me or my best friend. I heard you tricked Betty into eating glue the other day, what is wrong with you?"

Marc was trying to do his best to placate, but her recalling this prank slightly derailed him. He wanted to say sorry, but remembering how funny the prank had been made him have to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from giggling. It was an absolutely inappropriate moment, but she just had to get that image back into his head, he tried looking to the side to somewhat hide his misplaced amusement.

Christina narrowed her eyes.

"Are you laughing?"

"No-"

"You are. Unbelievable, unbelievable," she shook her head in disbelief, fuming at his audacity. If he still refused to take her seriously, she was going to make him, one way or another.

She grabbed him by the front of his tie and turned, dragging him back to the desk. He nearly tripped as the shorter woman forced him to stagger behind her in a bent position, trying to keep himself from choking and toppling over at the same time.

"Agh!" he rasped as the tie tightened around his neck, as if breathing wasn't hard enough already. Okay, she was mad, but she didn't have to suffocate him!

"Christin-" he tried choking out her name, before he was cut off as she tipped him over her lap.

Christina had pulled out and sat down on a chair, throwing his lanky body right over her knees.

Marc threw his hands out in front of him, to balance himself as he now found himself staring at the stark white floor. He coughed for a moment, readjusting his necktie and regaining his breath after the airway assault. During this Christina took the opportunity to hook her right leg over both of his, tipping him further towards the floor, which he only realized as he caught himself again.

The position was awkward and restricting, by the time Marc realized he was pinned down it was too late, he paled, dreading whatever she was planning to do next.

"Christina!" he yelled, "what are you doing!?"

Christina picked up the ruler she had used earlier and rested it on his backside.

"I don't think I'm done with swinging this ruler around yet," with that, she landed the first smack, aimed right at his sit spots.

He stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath, eyes once again widening at the painful sensation. Was she really going to spank him like this? No.. no, no! That's not okay!

Despite his internal panic, Christina carried on, striking him again and again in the same area. The way he was positioned it was easy to access the sit spots and she took full advantage. She didn't know how long she'd be able to keep this up for, but if she finally had him over her knee like she'd dreamed of for a long time, she better make the best use of it. Ever since she first met him, he'd been practically begging for someone to take him in hand, and if Wilhelmina couldn't keep her little pet in line, she'll just have to do it instead.

Marc's shock of the situation was instantly overclouded by the pain. Tears already threatened to flood his eyes as a fire was lit under him rapidly. If he had thought the ruler was annoying before, now it was straight up cruel, peppering only the lowest part of his buttocks and the very tops of his thighs, which happened to sting the most when targeted.

"Owwww, agh! Christina, let go of me!" he whined, helplessly kicking up his legs, barely able to move as Christina had pinned him so efficiently. The leglock wasn't making anything less awkward for the trapped Marc. He only groaned in frustration, as he kicked his legs against the floor once again, knowing that he couldn't move himself out of the line of fire.

But Christina paid no mind, even if spanking a (very annoying and rude) coworker was a bit rash, she wasn't about to release the flailing man until she felt that the brat had actually learned a lesson.

Marc couldn't believe what was happening. He knew that Christina had never liked him, but it didn't mean that she was allowed to beat him. The indignity of this was ridiculous. Yes, he didn't have any authority and was demeaned by one fashion's most infamous divas on the daily, but the difference was that Wilhelmina was the only person allowed to do that and that he actually respected her. Christina however, was just a frumpy seamstress who refused to get with how this industry worked, and shunned him simply for being more young and attractive and further in line to be favored by the fashion gods. She had no right!

Marc whimpered audibly before proposing an ultimatum.

"Release me right now or I'll report you to HR, are you crazy? You know this is a violation!"

"Go ahead, while you're at it, I'd be glad to let HR know about you attempting to poison another employee with glue, or taking unsolicited pictures and creating a blog with the purpose of bullying. I'm sure that and at least half of the other things you get up to on a daily basis would make excellent material to inform HR of. And when they ask why you ended up here in the first place, I'd be glad to mention that you were planning on stealing company property, again. Let's make that trip to HR worthwhile, what do you think?"

Christina didn't miss a beat. If anyone was going to be reported to HR, she was far from being the only one in the wrong.

Marc grimaced. The fact that his own record was far from clean was true, and there wasn't much else he could use as leverage.

Christina smirked at Marc going quiet. It wasn't often that he didn't have a snarky remark to retort with in any given situation. Not that he was silent, noises of displeasure and labored breathing still audible from the distraught man over her knee.

Okay, even if threats of HR weren't an option, there still had to be something he could do. There had to be, because the thought of being trapped there and having to allow her to beat him for god knows how long wasn't one he could come to terms with. Getting spanked seemed so silly, but it hurt, like, actually hurt, and he needed to get away from it.

In a last ditch effort of physical resistance, he threw his right hand back, attempting to twist his shoulder far enough to intercept the falling ruler. However, this did not achieve anything, as Christina easily grabbed hold of his wrist and kept it pressed against his back.

This only made everything worse, when he couldn't even wrestle his arm free, a new wave of doom washed over him. Like it could get any worse, but the cold feeling of terror at how helpless he was still took hold of him. He was speechless for another moment before taking a breath and yelling again.

"Stop, you have to let me go! This is ridiculous, just stop!"

No response, she ignored him, carrying on just the same.

"Ugh, even if I can't call HR I can still call for help, you can't keep this up! Security would break this up!"

Christina snorted, shaking her head.

"Sure, sure you can try," she didn't sound worried in the slightest, "but may I remind you that most people have gone home, you did wait for staff to leave before sneaking in here in case you've forgotten. And if they were here, are you sure you want anyone to see you getting your butt kicked? You're not exactly on friendly terms with many people here, the security crew being one of them. Not sure if you'd receive sympathy, but maybe someone would record this to keep as a memory! You are quite fond of recording people, aren't you? It would be nice to get someone to return the favor."

Marc's face turned redder and redder as he listened to her speak. He bit his lip, it was true that he wasn't well liked by many. Usually it didn't bother him because he knew he was better than those losers anyway, but everything she said was so deeply mortifying, and, most of all, painful. He would've preferred to be kicked, or punched, like he had feared earlier. Sure, it would hurt too and cause unsavory highschool flashbacks, but at least it would be over quicker and still leave a bit of his dignity intact.

Actually, maybe it would've hurt even less than this did. A ruler striking the lower half of your ass over and over could really culminate in a nearly unbearable sensation and it was accumulating more and more until finally something happened.

As Marc was struggling to endure this onslaught, the ruler that was causing all this anguish finally gave in and snapped in half against his upper thighs. He heard the crack clearly, his head spinning to face the source of the noise.

There was a second of silence, apart from Marc's heavy breathing as he recollected himself and processed what just had happened. A piece of wood was literally just broken against his thighs, welting him and stinging horribly, but Christina was still holding him in her clutches!

"I believe I've been 'punished' enough," he hissed through his teeth. Just trying to get the words out felt humiliating, but not as humiliating as a literal spanking had, so he had to get this to end, "the thing broke. Please, let me get off of you. I have places to be, and this has gone on for long enough, okay?"

This whole event was definitely going to make him be more cautious around Christina in the future, but while Marc did feel fear, anger and self-pity, there wasn't much remorse for any of the actions that had led to this in the first place, and Christina sensed that quite well too.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Christina, be serious," he tried to sound as firm and convincing as possible for a man who was trapped over someone's knee, "of course. There's no need to continue your sadistic little game, I get it!"

Christina shook her head, picking up another object from her desk. Unfortunately, she found it hard to believe that he really got it, but maybe using her hairbrush until he starts to get it, might help the situation.

"So just- AGH! Christina!"

She didn't waste a lot of time before whacking the implement down again on poor Marc's already battered bottom.

"Christina, that really hurts, you have to stop!" Marc tried to plead, swallowing some of his pride, "really, really, I do get it! You're upset with me!"

"And why is that?"

"Because-," Marc knew there was a plethora of reasons, but having to recount any of them in a situation such as this was uncomfortable beyond anything he'd experienced before, "because, I- I hurt people, I guess-"

"-because I hurt Betty!" he added quickly in a higher pitch, when three consecutive swats landed right on top of each other, "because I disrespected you, because I stole, because I'm a catty bitch, because-"

As much as Marc hated it, his voice cracked, as he truly broke down into unabashed tears. It wasn't easy to go through such a distressing event without showing a smidge of real emotion. Genuine, human, emotions weren't really his thing, but he felt himself succumbing to them, despite all his reservations and resentment toward Christina.

He sobbed audibly, his eyes squeezed shut, head hung in shame. The fact that Christina was doing this in the first place was extremely inappropriate, but by that point he was so sore, he simply wanted it to stop. Having a sturdy ruler broken on your butt and then having an even sturdier hairbrush wail away at you took its toll, and he was ready to put up all the white flags.

"I'm sorry! I am!" He cried, after wiping his eyes with his sleeve, "I was wrong to do what I did, okay? I'll give back the things I took.. not that I took anything else today! …Or before!"

He made sure to add the last parts quickly, but still winced after saying it.

Christina sighed. There he was now, pleading. As much as she hated him, he was starting to seem human, maybe even slightly cute in a pitiful way, perhaps he really had been punished enough. What mattered was that he finally got consequences for something he did, that could satisfy her for now.

"Okay," Christina said, before rolling him off her thighs.

Marc fell on the floor as he was unceremoniously shoved aside, but he did bolt right back up. Both to straighten his clothes after the assault and rub the offended body parts. Even if the ruler didn't look that scary, it had provided an effective threat against touching anything he wasn't supposed to, Marc stared at the broken piece laying on the floor. Honestly if it hadn't broken he would've smashed it himself, having just received several welts from the cursed piece of wood.

"So, I suppose you've learned your lesson now?"

He gave her a dirty look. He would've given more than a look, but he was not willing to take the risk of her getting another wooden instrument to beat him with, so he did his best to bite his tongue.

"Sure," he only hissed back. Unable to form any more words, partly because he didn't want to, partly because his heart was still caught in his throat.

"I'd better hope so," Chrisitna raised an eyebrow. Marc looked upset, sure, but he also just looked so small and young. Finally knocked down a few pegs, the usually extremely arrogant man was teary eyed and refusing to make eye contact, aww.

It was hard to speak or even think, the experience of feeling like a chastised child in front of Christina of all people, was just that baffling. Marc didn't like or respect her, she was just another annoying coworker to him, but she had cut him down like that. She did this to make him feel small and ashamed of himself, and the worst thing was that it worked. It always worked when someone stood up to him, he couldn't help it, no matter how little respect he held for the person he'd shrink back just like that, he'd fold simply even at a raised voice, nevermind a full on spanking.

Marc was about to flip on his heel and storm out before lingering for a second. There wasn't a single word he could think of saying, but he did reach into an inner pocket of his vest and pull out a rolled up Prada tie. He held it out for Christina before she reached for it and pressed it into her hand abruptly. Before there could be any comments on that, he turned on his heel and stalked out, leaving Christina behind.

Turning over the object in her hand, Christina snorted an amused breath. Oh, who knew he had any kind of conscience, often she was convinced that the man was barely human. It seemed like a good scare or apparently a thrashing was the only way to get to him. No remorse for any actions unless his own skin was in for it. What a pathetic person, but, something to keep in mind for the future, should there be any more Marc related incidents concerning her or her friends.

Marc fled from the scene with his tail between his legs. Thankfully the office was almost empty, he didn't need to be seeing anyone while barely holding it together, his face, ears and, most notably, butt on fire as he ran. Christina was unbelievable. That crazy Scottish woman wasn't just a drunk, a nuisance and an ally to the fashionably challenged, she was also violent. He had no choice then, he had to avoid her.

The thing with Christina was also that, unlike Betty for example, she always called him out. No matter what he said to Betty, she would still be nice to him back. It sometimes puzzled him, but overall it was easier to bully her because of her often timid nature. Christina however, was always cold to him, she would always tell him off and treat him like a misbehaving child, today more than ever. She was always so mean and wouldn't let him get away with anything like most people did.

But he wasn't even supposed to be in this situation! He was Wilhelmina's assistant, he should've been the alpha bitch among the lower-grade workers like her, but she could still intimidate him like that. His life was just unfair, once again, Marc St. James loses, what a surprise, the whole world is still against him!

Marc huffed, lamenting his victimhood, as he slammed the buttons on the elevator to go down.

"Hey, I have an idea, they just delivered a new collection!"

Amanda winked at Marc, leaning over his desk.

In normal circumstances he would've agreed, gone to the closet and taken whatever they wanted, but after a certain incident, he was more hesitant than usual.

"Or, you know, we can wear our own clothes tonight, I already have an outfit in mind."

"Sure but," Amanda lingered over his desk, "it's just not as fun. You know?"

"Maybe, but," Marc did his best to divert, "instead, you could spend more time getting your frizzy hair under control before tonight. Have you seen a mirror lately?"

"What?!" Amanda exclaimed, running to find a mirror, Marc sighing as she got away from him. Truly, he loved her, but he wasn't all that ready to go near Christina's lair again, especially not as his last visit was still making it uncomfortable to sit at his own desk. He had learned to suck it up, but still, it sucked.

And even if Amanda was his best friend, he didn't really want to tell her what happened. She would probably make it into some joke about kinks, but there was nothing less sexy than being spanked by Christina of all people. It made him shudder whenever it flashed back into his memory.

But in fact, he had mellowed down a bit. Mainly because he was too afraid to go near Betty or especially Christina after all that.

"Marc, my hair is fine," Amanda returned, putting her hands on her hips.

"If you say so."

Marc stood up and started walking down the hallway, Amanda following him right along.

"Why are you being weird? It's just-"

Amanda paused, running into Marc as he had abruptly stopped in his tracks, now turning around and going the other way.

"What is-," she looked back, seeing Christina walking their way.

"Are you afraid of Christina or something?"

Amanda asked, running to catch up with Marc, as fast as her heels would allow.

"No."

Amanda cocked an eyebrow.

"You seem defensive."

"I said," Marc took another abrupt pause and turned around to face Amanda, "no. Now are you going to get your hair in order or not?"

Amanda rolled her eyes, but wasn't able to get any more information from Marc as he had already started stalking away. He could get so jumpy at times, but Amanda had learned to deal with it, as weird as Marc's behaviors would be sometimes. She sighed, picking up her pace again to catch up with her jittery friend.