REAL WELFARE BENEFITS! by Alex Birch Preface: This story is quintessentially British in its recognition of the Department of Employment as a vital cog in our 'nanny' state. -----------oOo------------ Miss Daphne Meades sat back in her executive chair and allowed herself a contented smile. At last, after thirty years with the Department of Employment in this same area office, she had this very day been appointed Area Manager at the age of 48. After all those years of faithful service, Daphne had her own little empire to rule as she saw fit ...and not before time too! She was not going to allow resentment to cloud her day but she thought back to all those years of slaving behind a counter, minor promotions arriving at a snail's pace, while weasly faced men in their twenties and thirties were promoted above her. 'High flyers' they had been called but Daphne had found it difficult to contain her smouldering anger at these whiz kids who had been promoted because of their success in frightening claimants off the register. That was not the way to deal with the unemployed...they needed understanding not terrorism. She had seen eight different area managers in her time at the office and at first they had been career professionals like herself but as governments and climates changed so the opportunists had taken over. Still, all that was over now and she, Daphne Meades, affectionately known as 'mum' to all the younger staff and to some of the claimants too, was in charge. It was a very popular appointment with everybody but Daphne had made it clear that although she would try and run on a loose rein she did ask for the respect now of being addressed formally in office hours and not as 'Daph' or 'Mum'. Her reverie was interupted by a knock on the door and one of the young clerks walked in. 'Morning, David ...' she said brightly '...what's this, my first batch of executive's post?' He smiled warmly. 'Partly, Miss Meades ...and congratulations by the way ...but also a reminder that you've got a Manager's referral at 11am. Miss Tracey Nelson. I think you know her. She's been claiming eight months now and still hasn't attended a single interview we've found for her. I've brought the case notes. She's in line to lose all her benefit.' Daphne raised her eyes to the heavens. 'Oh I know Tracey all right. Seeing me will be a relief to her, she'll be expecting Mr Pearson and she'd have got short shrift from him. She won't find me a soft touch either! Leave me the papers, David, and thanks!' Left to herself again, Daphne read through her post and actioned what was necessary before getting down to Tracey Nelson's case notes. The kid was a born loser. Broken home, alcoholic parents, left school without qualifications at 15 already pregnant and a single mother by 16. Her mother had kicked her out and her boyfriend had disappeared before the baby was born. Desperate for comfort the girl had found another 'bad lot' and was pregnant again at 17 then alone once more soon after, so now at nearly 19 she had a near 3 year old and a baby to look after. She just simply appeared unable to manage her life at all and it was just drifting by. Daphne's skill was often to put herself in the place of the girl's mother. She needed guidance and a firm hand, that much was certain. Before she realised it, the time for Tracey's appointment had arrived and, for once obviously frightened at the prospect of losing benefit, the kid was on time ushered in by David who had obviously briefed her on the changes in management structure and protocol. The young brunette walked in shyly and extended her hand. 'Good morning, Daph...er, I'm sorry ...Miss Meades ...' she muttered quietly '...Christ, seein' you in 'ere is a bit of a wowser. Wor' appened to Pearson, then? ' and Daphne suppressed a smile. 'MR Pearson has been promoted...' she said sternly, gratified by the guilty blush '...and I am now in charge, so let's get down to business, shall we? Why are you totally incapable of doing anything we ask, Tracey? Why do you never attend any of the interviews we arrange ...or even have the good grace to apologise? I really should chop your benefit completely unless I get a damn good reason. Now let's hear you!' The girl's composure cracked like porcelain and Daphne could almost feel the tears before Tracey had even cried them. The next fifteen minutes was a melange of half truth, pathetic excuse and feeble apology until she ran out of all of them and began to weep piteously. Daphne stared at her, the soft side of her nature making her want to cuddle the girl, but the harder side telling her something more drastic was needed. Before she'd even realised what she was saying the words were out of Daphne's mouth. 'What you need, Tracey...' she said angrily '...is a damn good smacked bottom!' and as soon as the words were spoken Daphne was stricken with shock, visions of the girl complaining to the police or to regional management vivid in her mind. Oh God, the shortest tenure in this job ever as she was removed for threats of assault! She was about to apologise profusely when the girl looked up at her with eyes shining tearfully, the waif like face displaying utter despair. 'You're probably right, Miss Meades ...' she wailed bitterly '...I'm such a fool I could do with summat to get me straight...but I ain't even got anybody to smack me bum!' Daphne Meades suddenly began to tremble but she forced herself to speak calmly and with authority as she realised what an opportunity had presented itself for a caring solution. 'I'm going to sign you on for a further month's benefit despite your appalling record...' she said firmly as the disbelieving girl wailed her thanks '...but there's a price to pay. Go and lock my door, please!' Tracey got up and locked the office door, returning in bewilderment to her seat but was stopped as Daphne pushed her own chair back and beckoned the girl to her. 'Across my knee, Tracey!' she ordered firmly and the girl gasped, her face colouring up, but she obeyed immediately. As the girl's warm body settled across her thighs, Daphne's heart pounded as she recalled those days at boading school, the 'seshes' with Cynthia in bed after lights out...the last time she had felt a girl's bottom and how nice it was! She stared down at Traceys shapely little arse as her short skirt settled over the firm buttocks and at the little panties clearly delineated through the thin material. This was no time for half measures. She flicked up the girl's tiny skirt getting no adverse reaction from below and then put her hand on the waistband of the white cotton panties revealed beneath. 'I always think knickers are a trifle superfluous at times like this!' Daphne said firmly and her heart leapt as Tracey, whose understanding of 'superfluous' was probably debatable, at least comprehended the intent and obediently raised her hips to assist the removal of her panties. As they slid down to Tracey's ankles, Daphne stared down at an appetising plump little bottom which seemed to beg to be spanked! It would not be disappointed! She raised her hand and brought it down firmly on the right cheek of Tracey's backside, producing a small groan from below, a nice red hand print on the punished cheek and an involuntary wriggle which opened the bottom cheeks to display the dark channel between and some of its treasures. Daphne was so elated that she brought her hand down hard on the other cheek and achieved a similar effect. She began to accelerate both the speed and force of the spanking and soon the girl's writhing bottom was bright red and her groans were becoming squeals. Conscious of the vulnerability of the situation and particularly the thin plywood office door, Daphne acted swiftly. Reaching down she removed the panties from the girl's feet and transferred them to the other end! 'Sorry to have to do this, Tracey ...' she said '...but open your mouth!' then quickly pushed the bunched up knickers into the girl's open mouth immediately converting squeals into muffled wails. She gave the girl another twenty or so burning spanks before allowing her to rise and take the panties out of her mouth. Tracey got up with difficulty, her face as red as her bottom, but she stood clutching her burning rear end for just a minute or so before putting her knickers back on with as much dignity as she could muster. To Daphne's surprise, the girl clutched her hand in gratitude and she was 'Mum' again for just a few moments before Tracey said 'Th..Thank you Miss Meades for being so understanding. I w..won't let you down!' and then left the office in a condition of some obviously painful embarrassment. Daphne felt elated. Her first day in the job and she had changed the policy already though she was certain Region would not approve!. So she wouldn't tell them! She'd just carry on using her judgement and picking the girls who would benefit from unorthodox treatment. She would have to be a little more circumspect in her approach to suggesting corporal punishment than in her spontaneous outburst to Tracey and she would have to be careful how long she extended a claimant's pay. If she overdid it, the Regional ferrets would be looking through the books and she would be out of a job in no time. All these things were a problem but could be overcome with a little planning. Over the next few weeks the office ticked along beautifully and Daphne had added another client to her 'approved treatment' list. Margaret Simpson was just nineteen and seemed to have lived out of her widowed mother's pocket for years, the odd job folding up in months but Margaret managed to get enough contributions in to keep claiming much to the despair of the office staff who thought she was bone idle. Margaret obviously enjoyed her food too, obviously at her mother's expense, because she could politely be described as a 'big girl' just about everywhere! When Margaret walked in, everything wobbled and when she sat down in Daphne's chair, her hips overflowed both sides of it. It soon became apparent to Daphne that the apathy and over eating were clear indications of a 'cry for help', the need for a firm hand never more apparent. When the girl's failings were discussed at the interview and the cancellation of benefit was threatened unless a better attitude was shown, Margaret had become very upset and had set the ball rolling by admitting at one point 'Me mam reckons I need a dose of the stick across me bare arse!' Daphne had assured her that, perhaps at this stage, that was a little severe but that she did have something similar in mind. After the girl had got up and locked the door then realised with dumbfounded shock what Daphne intended, it had not been too difficult, with the promise of a month's lifeline, to persuade her to remove her tight skirt and her knickers completely. It was with obvious embarrassment, however, that she showed first her thick dark pubic hair and then the huge, glutinous bottom cheeks to Daphne as she was ordered to kneel up and lean over her chair. Daphne had realised she was too big to take across her knee as she'd done with Tracey and that perhaps something more than her hand was required to get through to these mountainous orbs. She located a 2ft long perspex ruler in the top drawer of a her desk which proved admirable for the task. Again, with Tracey's vocals in mind, Daphne was forced to apply a gag but at least this time she had brought a clean handkerchief and was not forced to resort to using the girl's knickers! By the time Daphne had administered thirty strokes of the ruler and told the girl to get up, Margaret was executing something akin to a cossack dance and the sight of those now bright red and striped massive buttock cheeks bouncing up and down as the half naked girl cried away her anguish was something to behold, but she too left the office chastened and grateful. After some six weeks in charge, Daphne had acquired a small bevy of virtual unemployables who depended on benefit and for whom a strict interpretation of the rules would have been cruel, all of them accepting Daphne's drastic option once the initial shock had been absorbed. Some surprised her too, particularly the pretty,blonde and pneumatic Lucy Bennett who had been on the books for nearly eighteen months and seemed a hopeless case, yet after once taking off her panties in Daphne's office for a good dose of the perspex ruler first leapt around the carpet with a bright red bottom howling through her gag like a muffled banshee and then found herself a job the very next day. It seemed that the stick rather than the carrot had indeed been efficacious in this case! Daphne retained her loyal entourage of six or so girls to whom she continued to pay benefit and then spank them every two weeks on claims day as due reparation for her kindness. With Tracey and Margaret she had advanced beyond a simple spanking and was now applying a leather suitcase strap to their bare buttocks at fortnightly intervals. The biggest headaches now were the noise through the plywood door and where the money to keep paying their benefit was to come from. Daphne had put a claim in to Region for a stronger door and soundproofing as soon as her little punishment sessions started, claiming that unruly clients in for interview sometimes got upset and frightened the staff but such claims were dismissed and the claim turned down on cost grounds. However, resourceful has ever, Daphne was informed that a visit from the Regional manager, Mr Davenport, would take place the following Monday and she rearranged Tracey's next appointment accordingly, informing the girl that she would be let off her thrashing this month if her acting was up to scratch. The mystified youngster was keen to impress when Daphne enlightened her. Davenport duly arrived and was wandering round the office with his acolytes en route to see Daphne when, on reaching his area manager's door he heard ' ...an' you're just a miserable old bitch, tellin' me I can't claim no money! You wanna kill me an' my kids' then the sound of a tea cup thrown at the wall. Davenport was horrified and just about to walk into Daphne's office when an enraged Tracey stalked out and demanded '...an' oo the fuck are you?' When an indignant Davenport informed the girl of his status, she seized his lapel and shouted 'So you're the fat poof who pays 'er wages. Well I 'ope you all rot in 'ell!' then Daphne appeared, seized the girl and ushered her back in to the office apologising to Davenport for the disturbance. Once they were alone, Tracey whispered 'ow did I do?' and Daphne grinned. 'Perhaps calling him a fat poof was a bit strong but pretty good. Thanks!' and within two weeks workmen had arrived to instal a new oak door and piping around it to guarantee an almost completely soundproof environment. Thus the first problem was solved and she could now forego the rather unpleasant gags allowing the poor girls to wail loudly to their hearts content as their bottoms were blistered red. The second problem of continuing to pay them was more difficult and Daphne was racked continually with this one as well as the problems of settling into a new house, decorators seeming to be permanently in residence. One morning the post arrived as usual and Daphne ripped it all open, failing to notice that one envelope was addressed to the previous owner of the property. She stared in amazement at the brochure inside which in addition to a detailed precis of what was on offer, showed accompanying photographs of young women bent over laps, across tables, kneeling up on chairs etc the girls all with their panties down and receiving obviously severe punishment with hand, paddle, strap and cane. She held the brochure as if it were about to catch fire for Daphne had never seen anything like this but suddenly an amazing idea occurred to her. That night when Daphne returned from work, she ordered two of the films in the previous house owner's name and paid by money order so that there was no trace of her on any list and also plucked up the nerve to ask the video company if there was a market for amateur spanking videos. Ten days or so later the films arrived as did a cryptic response of 'depends on the quality, send us a sample. £1000 if they are any good' and she became very excited, particularly after she had watched the two films she'd ordered. They were both great on detail, plenty of burning bottoms and private parts but such shabby settings! It was obvious that these were not exactly on the budget of 'The Titanic' and she was convinced she could do as well with her own little bevy of 'stars'. In fact she knew she could do better because her girls were not actresses nor would they know they were being filmed! Checking her bank balance before committing to any expense, Daphne phoned the decorators and announced that she had changed the plans for her cellar. No longer would it be a wine cellar but she'd decided to fit it out as a small studio where she could make promotional films for the marketing side of her work. She asked for plans to set up recessed video cameras and appropriate lighting and for the cellar to be transformed into a small lounge. The cameras had to be very discreet, she said, for her people were amateurs and became nervous if the presence of cameras was too ostentatious. She grinned broadly when the decorating company manager replied 'Madam, they won't even know they are there!' as she clapped her hands and murmured 'Perfect!' Once this had been settled Daphne began writing to suppliers of disciplinary equipment to obtain competitive quotes. Eventually her home was finished, including the revamped cellar, and Daphne was so excited when she saw the finished results. The decorator had been as good as his word, the two cameras recessed into opposite walls and almost invisible. They were controlled from a hand held remote which allowed zoom and swivel but of course the main focussing and sighting would have to be done before any of the girls arrived. There would be a certain amount of learn by experience but she would have to be patient. The next step of her plan went like clockwork. She asked one of the clerks to arrange personal interviews for six girls (who happened to be her 'specials' list) and made it clear she would be stopping their benefit to allay any suspicion of favouritism that might be forming in the office. The unsuspecting office staff were impressed by their new manager's stern resolve but surprised that she had been so ruthless. Daphne was more worried about how long she would have to pay the unsuspecting girls until the forthcoming videos paid for themselves. It was a big risk. When each girl was privately interviewed, Daphne explained to her that she was 'a special case' and that she must not tell a soul about the arrangements that were being made. Daphne explained that she could no longer continue to pay a formal giro as the Government was anxious to get long term claimants to work and thus benefits would have to be stopped. As the girls reacted predictably with horror , Daphne explained that because she cared about them she would continue to fund their unemployment pay out of her own pocket for a short time until something could be worked out provided they came to her home for the money and accepted punishment there. It was far more discreet than the office and the girls were more than happy to agree. The first 'guinea pig' for the new regime was the sylph like nineteen year old Sharon Kelly who never seemed to hold down a job for more than a few weeks and again it was the problem of having a kid to look after. Daphne had been spanking the hell out of her for a month but on this first visit to Daphne's home, the girl was escorted down to the basement and into a very stylish coffee lounge where she was offered a relaxing drink. She was most impressed. Sharon was less impressed when Daphne told her it was time for the serious stuff, lectured her severely about her failings to find a job then ordered her to take off all her clothes! This came as an embarrassing surprise, compounded by the instruction to kneel up on a wide wooden bench and lean her elbows on the table, her bottom high and her legs wide apart. She obeyed implicitly blushing deeply in the knowledge that she was naked and that everything was on show between her legs. She began wondering if Daphne was a bit ...well, you know ..but her thoughts were rapidly interrupted by the first of twelve sharp strokes of a cane which came as an awful shock and which had her howling in pain, her pretty bottom writhing all over the place, exaggerating the already lewd position. By the time Daphne had finished, Sharon was crying real tears and displaying some very juicy stripes! For the first time since the punishments started Daphne took one of her girls in her arms and whispered an apology. 'You'll thank me in the long run!' she murmured though Sharon was quite unable to see why! When the girl had gone painfully home with her unofficial pay in her pocket, Daphne ran the video back through the player and to her delight it was more than adequate, spoiled only by a couple of out of focus shots when the girl had moved. She immediately packaged it up and sent it to the video supply company in Holland together with an agreement that the film was not to be circulated in the UK. Daphne spent days of anguish wondering if she'd be ripped off and never hear from them again, that poor Sharon would be exposed with no gain to either of them, on the UK market. That would mean disaster! However to Daphne's delight, a letter arrived ten days later with a cheque for £750 'because it was not perfect' and a signed copy of the agreement that the videos would be sold only in mainland Europe. This was enough to pay the dole money for all six girls for 2 weeks with a little left over! From then on, Daphne Meades became a very busy lady indeed. By day, her reputation as a fair minded and caring employment officer was enhanced and by night and at weekends, their appointments staggered to allow plenty of time, an elite band of young women made their way to 'The Cedars' for coffee and a little bit more! Daphne had become a technician in more ways than one for she had become a formidable wielder of tawse and cane, fairly easy with six appetising bottoms to practice on. She had also consulted a video film specialist and obtained the equipment necessary to splice, edit and overdub so that the finished product was vastly improved. She had also learned how to use the remote carefully for zoom shots by secreting it in her skirt pocket, produced discreetly when the wailing girl was far too preoccupied to notice anything else Daphne was doing. After six months of spanking, strapping and caning Tracey, Margaret, Sharon and the rest Daphne had produced more than a dozen videos and by now she had discovered two alternative CP supply companies and sold different films to all three. To her delight, she had made over ten grand in this period, all of it invested now except of course the amount paid to the girls to replace their unemployment pay. She was wildly excited by her success but had realised that if she was to continue to make real money she would have to find some new faces and bottoms. She had also realised with regret that trying to help any more of the dole claimants, sound cases though they might be, was dangerous and could blow the whole thing. So she did some research and found out about contact magazines in which she advertised using a false name and a post box reference. Before long 'The Cedars' was playing host to a whole bevy of new girls but this time Daphne was having to pay the going rate and of course the profits were severely cut back, yet the videos were selling at such a rate that her percentage on sales more than made up for the production costs. She felt a bit guilty about the unsuspecting girls who had started this whole thing off for she did care for them and by now she was making so much money that she could have paid their dole cheques and never spanked them again. However she knew that would create suspicion in their minds and , in any case, they had an odd code of honour and seemed to expect to be punished in exchange for dole money to which they were not entitled and which they thought Daphne was paying out of the kindness of her heart. So she kept up the spankings and canings for another year, paying their money regularly but she never used them again in any of her commercial films. She went on her annual holidays as usual and the youngsters in the office bade her goodbye and whispered 'Bognor, again!' but little did they know that her vacation was a whistle stop tour of Amsterdam, Hamburg, Berlin and Paris seeing her retailers, signing new agreements and so on. When she got back to work, she never let on and primly settled to her job as before. One day, after Daphne had been Area Manager for nearly two years, she shocked everyone in the office by announcing that she was taking early retirement and that she had made good provision for this by buying a retirement home on the West Indian island of Mustique. Someone had told her that someone famous had a home there but they couldn't think who. The office was both agog and in shock. Losing 'Mum' after all these years ..and how could she afford such extravagance on a civil service pension? Coyly she told them she'd inherited a comfortable legacy and wanted to make the most of it while she was still fit. In truth she'd made an absolute tax free fortune out of the videos in two years and her common sense told her that greed would be her undoing, the time had come to enjoy life and to get off the merry go round yet she had restless nights thinking about the six girls who depended on her, who she'd exploited in their own interests and for whom she was a crutch through the hazards of life. Just in case any of them reacted badly she didn't tell any of them before she departed these shores for the last time and that in itself made her feel bad, imagining the scene when each of them arrived for her next interview to be told that both Daphne and their secret lifeline had gone. When she arrived on her sun blessed island and settled into her new home she realised how large it was, how lucky she had been and how she would like to pass some of that fortune on to those who needed it. She had thought of depositing a lump sum in each of the girls bank accounts to see them through life but then decided that they were all so irresponsible that the cash would be blown in no time, so she started to make some enquiries of the authorities in Mustique with a view to an alternative solution. So it was that three months after Daphne Meades had left these shores, six young women who were now in the depths of despair opened their mail one morning and cried with delight. Inside a bulky envelope for each of them was a one way air ticket to Mustique for the girl and her offspring, a residential visa and a work permit provided that 'you live and work in the home of Miss Daphne Meades as domestic, cook, chauffeuse, cleaner, gardener or in any other capacity of which Miss Meades deems you to be capable. All live in expenses will be taken care of and you will receive an adequate wage for work performed, which will be mandatory. Inadequate performance will result in specific penalties with which the recipient of this letter is only too familiar!. Have a good trip!' END