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'This is so embarrassing,' said Cathy, as I returned with my coffee. It came from the vending machine downstairs and tasted like lorry tyres, but it was the excuse I needed to leave her alone.

The camera shutter clicked for the tenth time.

'And being supervised by that..... thing..... makes it worse.'

'Did you feel dizzy?'

'No, I was listening for each click, but it goes so slowly, it seems like an age.'

'Ten more to go.' I said, checking my watch.

She kept her face buried in the corner, compared to her usual outgoing, exuberant self, Cathy looked small and demure against the expanse of wall stretching away either side from her. Hearing my return, she had snuggled deeper into the corner, shoulders pressed, her slim hands clasped behind her back.

'You WILL delete these when we're finished?'

'Yes,' I replied, 'and to be absolutely sure, you can do it, and check through the entire memory card as well.'

'Click' another thirty seconds passed. I had set the camera's interval timer to monitor her Corner time. The rule was, no turning round, no unclasping of hands, failure - we agreed - would earn her more time; as the evidence of the pictures would show. Cathy was not about to let that happen.

Once set, I had left her to fetch some coffee. I reached the machine barely aware of what I was doing, the whole time thinking about this wonderful, charming girl upstairs, standing in my office, silent and alone. Her devotion to her task felt so very alluring. I wondered just how vulnerable she was feeling, and how keenly she wanted me to return and supervise.

'I still would have preferred something else. You know, like what we discussed. I wouldn't have told my boyfriend.'

'This way, you won't have to, and we both know what a hopeless fibber you are. It's what put you there in the first place.'

The 'something else' was of course a spanking. I knew little of her personal life, except one time she had told me wistfully: 'Just once in a while, I wouldn't mind being taken in hand, if you know what I mean.'

Yes, Cathy, I certainly did, and I was thinking the same when I discovered the mistake you had covered up. A minor error that, being a keen to impress intern, you had tried to hide. It was bad luck that I spotted it before your return to University.

I wasn't angry, just disappointed, and told her so; but that was my misjudgement. You see, Cathy was so natural, so open hearted, that anger was easier to bear than disappointment. In her gregarious, affable world, a warm bottom was preferable to my cold, managerial admonishment.

Secretly, I too would have loved to have eased her across my knee, but times change; companies have policies, and even with the office closed, a cleaner or security guard could easily have interrupted. Cathy's future, and my career, were too important to risk. I was her Manager, and it was my responsibility to understand that; even if she didn't. So our compromise had led to her into the Corner. It was a discipline where, if someone approached, she could turn and act as if having her picture taken. It would seem odd, but not nearly as incriminating as being found laying over my lap.

'Click.'

I had never met a girl who would countenance, let alone perform, a Corner time. Perhaps it's just too humiliating, too childish, time-wasting or uncomfortable to accept. And though she struggled, Cathy was determined to try, and she had spent half of it alone: if being with her for these last minutes made it more bearable, then in my book, she deserved all the attention and support I could give.

'Click'

It must have seemed like a lifetime for Cathy, but it was moving too fast for me. To her credit, she willed herself to remain still. 'Bless her heart', I thought watching her stand with such poise - I so wanted to reach out, turn her around, hold and maybe even kiss her, but that would have been a complete betrayal.

'Click.'

I sat at my desk, both of us focused on counting down the clicks, listening for that last camera shutter.

'Click.'

'Time.' I said finally. Cathy turned, flexing her shoulders in relief. 'Are you ok?' I asked.

'Harder than I thought, but it became easier knowing you were watching over me. In the end, I actually felt quite safe and peaceful.'

I sat at my desk and reviewed the pictures with Cathy standing keenly at my shoulder. There they were; twenty beautiful photos totalling ten minutes, the slight lighting variation giving them the appearance a stop action film.

'Have I done it?' she asked.

'You have.' I said, with summoned authority and genuine admiration. I ran through them twice more, as if to recheck, but really trying to sear them into my memory. They were treasured images that I would soon lose.

'I'm so proud of you Cathy.' I said lamely; in the aftermath of the moment, it was about all I could manage. Perhaps she saw the effect they were having on me, for her smile glowed with satisfaction.

'And now to keep my word.' As I handed her the camera, she heard the hesitation in my voice.

She began deleting them, and spoke distractedly, 'You know, when teachers made us write lines, they made a point of tearing them up in front of us. It kinda feels like that now.'

'For me too,' I said, watching my memories being erased.

When her internship ended, Cathy returned to University. We gave her a great send off, and I probably read too much into her leaving speech, when she added 'the office has a corner in my heart'.

A few weeks later, as I was checking my camera card, I was startled to discover a single photo of Cathy in the corner.

Had she missed it or left it there to tease me? I didn't know; but as I scrutinised the picture something else struck me. As a hard-up student, Cathy wore similar clothing everyday, yet this outfit seemed slightly different. I couldn't be sure, but was it possible that this clever little minx had set the camera up herself, and taken a later shot?

To this day, I honestly don't know. I was sorely tempted to keep it, then I realised it was her fibs that earned her a Corner time in the first place. Perhaps she was setting a challenge for my own honesty.

Whether the photo was there by accident or design, it would be dishonest to keep it. She deserved better, so I deleted it. That was ten years ago. I've haven't seen her since - and probably never will - but if I did, I know I could look her straight in the eye.

But I still wonder at the truth; was it a thank you or a test?