It was a typical Monday morning as she arrived at work. A glance at the clock showed she was a few minutes late but what did it matter? Her boss didn't arrive until 9:30, so he would never know.
She slipped off her light coat and dropped her bag beside the desk, a pile of holiday brochures slipped out onto the floor so she picked them up and placed them on her desk, ready to be studied during the morning. The clock ticked over to 9:15, just time to get the coffee on before Mr. Turnbull arrived, and he would be none the wiser.
Damn! She had been so caught up with planning her weekend she had forgotten to buy some more filters. Never mind, she would just pop down the corridor to the public machine, the boss would have to make do for today. She had done that last week and he had not said anything. He was too fussy anyway, what made him so special, having to mess about with special coffee, it was such a nuisance having to keep going out to the shop down the road to order fresh supplies.
She heard movement in his office as he arrived and turned on his computer. She swayed her way down to the coffee machine, aware of male eyes on her tightly sheathed bottom, not that they stood any chance of doing more than ogle. She enjoyed being able to dress to tantalize, while her position as Mr. Turnbull's Personal Assistant meant that no-one dare make a move on her.
She gathered the morning mail together, poured the coffee into his own cup, and then undulated her way through the dividing door and into his office.
He lifted his eyes as she entered, choosing not to pass comment on the length of thigh this particular tight black skirt exposed, for now. "I hope you enjoyed your long weekend, Sally?" Without waiting for an answer he continued, "Do you have plans for this evening?"
"Well, err, yes sir, I do actually," she was hoping to get a phone call from the hunk she had met at the weekend, "why, is there something important?"
"Yes, Sally, it is rather important. Be good enough to make yourself available in this office at 5:30 tonight, sharp." With that he returned his eyes to the papers he was studying, screwing up his eyes as he sipped the tepid coffee.
She flounced back out to her own office, inwardly seething that he had the cheek to make arrangements in her own time. As she settled down to scan the holiday brochures, a doubt flickered through her mind. "I don't remember there being any meetings arranged for today", she thought "and what did he mean, 'long weekend'?" It had just been an ordinary early finish on Friday, and back to work on Monday. Of course she wasn't supposed to finish until 5pm, but he was never thereto see when she left. Her mind was mulling over his slightly distant attitude, she usually amused herself by bending over the filing cabinet more than was absolutely necessary, feeling his eyes on her tightly rounded backside, but today he had hardly seemed to notice she was there .....the page turned and a photograph of a deep blue pool and straw thatched bar attracted her attention, a bronzed god wearing distinctly bulging trunks was leaning against the bar, a secret thrill ran through her and she crossed her legs as she felt her sex responding...........
He had been out of the office for most of the day, so she had been left in peace to dream of the hot sunny beaches depicted in the brochures. A pile of letters to be typed lay neglected in her tray, but what the hell, she was a P.A. not some under-paid typist. She would send them down to the typing pool when she got around to it.
The sound of his outer office door being closed and locked startled her back to reality. She glanced at the clock, 5:25! She had not even noticed everyone leaving at 5pm. She could hear some strange sounds coming from his office, drawers opening and closing, and what sounded like furniture being moved. She started to pack her things away, ready for a quick escape whenever he finished with her.
"Sally! In here please!" he called through the half open door.
A flash of anger ran through her mind as she heard his tone, she was not used to being spoken to like that. But she rose anyway and sauntered deliberately slowly into his office, exaggerating the swing of her hips as usual.
She arrived in front of the desk and made to sit down on one of the chairs placed there, "No, stand, if you please." It was a command! Alarm bells rang in the back of her mind, what the hell was wrong with him? She stood directly in front of him, her weight on one leg. She was about to place her hands on her hips, but something told her not to, so she just clasped them behind her back.
"Right then, miss!" he began "I am no longer able to tolerate your slip-shod work, these are your cards, and there is the door. Please go and clear your desk. You are sacked."
The world imploded around her! The holiday she had just booked disappeared into the distance, shit! She had paid the deposit at lunchtime! Her rent was overdue too! Her looks guaranteed her another job, but the salary wouldn't be half as good as she got here!
Her mouth opened...... and shut, with no sound emerging. Panic gripped her throat, her heart was pounding deep in her boots. What? Why? Anger flashed again, "What the hell do you mean? Sacked?! You can't sack me! I haven't done anything!"
"Exactly, madam! NOTHING!" His voice carrying a steely edge, "That is precisely how I would describe it! And what little you have done has been careless and inaccurate. Yes, miss. Sacked. I have no choice."
"But ...but Sir!" her mind frantically searching for a way out, "You can't sack me, sir! Can't I have another chance? I didn't know I was doing anything wrong! Please sir....." she laid the 'sir' on thickly, hoping to sway him. "What did I do wrong, sir??"
He glanced down at a printed sheet on the desk in front him, "What is your finishing time, Sally?"
Her heart dropped like a stone, "Umm, five sir." Shit! He knew!! How did he find out!! "I know I have left a few minutes early once or twice, sir, but it was only when I had something important on, sir!"
"Last week, 2 hrs 30 minutes. The previous week, two hours. The week before, you failed to return from lunch at all! Shall I continue, miss??" his voice was calm and level, but every word stabbed right through her!
"Oh! Sir! I will make the time up, sir! I'm really sorry, sir. Couldn't you let me off? Just this once, please sir??" She laid on her best wheedling voice and tried to look cutesy.
He paused, and observed her closely. He was seeing a side to her character that had been hidden before.
She took his silence to mean that he was weakening, and, gaining in confidence, laid the act on thicker. She clasped her hands in front herself and lowered her head, peering at him from under her curls of blonde hair, batting her eyelashes sweetly. She felt really pleased with the act she was putting on, soft old fool! Not that he was that old, of course, perhaps ten years her senior and quite handsome. On odd occasions she had toyed with the idea of trying to bed him, but had never quite got around to it.
"Tell me, Sally, how do you explain the fact that there are no coffee supplies in the cupboard and yet the coffee fund jar is empty, and the swill you have been dishing out to me is straight out of the machine?"
Sweet Jesus!! He knew about that too! She tried a new tack. She began to sniff and sob quietly, "sniff... dunno sir!" She kept her head lowered while she tried to summon up her infamous crocodile tears. "Maybe it was stolen, sir?"
"Yes Sally, I expect it was - BY YOU!" His voice increased for the first time. He threw a typed letter across the desk towards her, "let's hear your explanation for this then, miss!"
"It.... it's a letter, sir" she responded with a puzzled tone in her voice. Now what was he on about?
"What is stamped across the top of it, Sally?"
"Private and ......C..C..Confidential, sir" suddenly it hit her! This had come up from the typing pool with a query!
"Can you give me any reason to employ a very well paid Personal Assistant, when all of my confidential letters are sent down to the typing pool for anyone to see?!!"
"Oooooh! Sir! I'm so s.sorry , sir" she whimpered, the full enormity of her situation beginning to sink in.
"Like I said, Sally, I have no choice but to dismiss you. There is a string of other matters here but I don't really need to go through them, do I miss?"
She was genuinely sobbing now, tears running down her cheeks, all hint of pretence gone. She was transformed from thesis young woman with the world at her feet who had walked in, to a wretched sobbing brat with the world crushing down on her shoulders. What could she say? What could she do? It was hopeless! Then it hit her, perhaps there was a chance, just a small one, but worth a try!
"I'm s..sorry sir, really I am" she began, not knowing how she was going to get the words out. "Isn't there a..another<sob> way, another way to sort this out? You don't have to s...s...sackme, sir. Pleeeeaase" The desperation sounding in her voice, she could hardly bring herself to say the word, sacked, it was too horrible!
Her mind flashed back to another occasion, over a year ago, when she was making lots of mistakes because she had lied about her qualifications. He had told her she deserved to be spanked, but somehow she had managed to avoid making so many errors and it had never been mentioned again. At the time she had thought that it was devastating, the very idea of being put across her bosses knee to have her bottom smacked! She hadn't suffered that humiliation since the last time her Dad had bent her over the couch in her nightie and given her the belt for lying and staying out late. That had been horrible because her nightie had ridden up over her back and she had got it on the bare, even though she did find that she was soaking wet afterwards.
But now, although the thought horrified her, it seemed infinitely better than the alternative.......
"Another way, girl? What on earth do you mean. 'another way'??" he smiled inwardly. He had been dying to put this sassy wench across his knee for ages, but she was always too haughty. He had jokingly suggested it once but the reason behind it cleared up. And now she was going to hand herself to him on a platter. "I cannot think of any 'other ways', explain yourself, girl!"
She is sobbing heavily now, she can hardly string the words together. "You... you could....... s...s....sp.....spank m..me, s sir" a tiny voice finally got the words out.
"Did you say 'spank you', Sally?" he was secretly enjoying watching her twist and wriggle on the hook.
"...mmmfftt yyessir <sob>" she was resigned to her fate now, if only he would, a few spanks on her bottom was worth it to keep this cushy job. "Yes sir, you could spank me, and then I would be very good, sir" the wheedle returned to her voice. Here she was, a sophisticated woman of 25, begging to be spanked by her boss! The humiliation burned through her, she could feel her cheeks throbbing and glowing.
He leans back in his chair, studying her across the desk. She can no longer meet his eyes, and she seems to be trying to shrink and hide, although there is nowhere to run.
"What exactly do you mean by 'spank', Sally? Because to atone for your behaviour, it would require that you are punished severely. Do you realize that?" She can only nod miserably. "Well, I am prepared to consider this option. You had better go back to your office to think about it. You can choose to walk out of the door. Or, you can lock the outer door and come back in here. The choice is yours. But make no mistake! If you return, you will not leave until your bottom has been bared and thoroughly spanked. Is that quite clear??"
Sally nods her head dumbly, she stares at the carpet in front of her, not daring to look up at him.
Sally's heart has begun to pound again. She had escaped from Mr. Turnbull's office fighting a desperate urge to pee where she stood, and pausing only to collect her bag, had run down the corridor to the toilets. As she sat in the cubicle, her mind had begun to come to terms with the situation she found herself in, and she started to plan how she could make the best of what was to come.
That she would not go through with the spanking had never crossed her mind. She enjoyed a well paid position as the Director's P.A., one which was well in advance of what her qualifications merited. It was worth a few moments of discomfort in order to keep it.
She had reasoned that once Mr. Turnbull got a glimpse of her treasures, she would be able to persuade him to involve her in another activity which would be entirely more pleasurable. She spent 20 minutes tidying herself up and applying fresh make-up, before strolling confidently back to her office.
Now the time had come, she tried to steady her hand as she knocked timidly on his inter-office door.
"Come in, Sally," his voice commanded, "about time too!"
She entered the office on trembling legs, closing the door behind her and standing beside it. He had been busy in her absence. She saw that the comfortable visitors chairs had been moved to a side wall, and in the middle of the office were two office chairs placed back to back.
"Right then, Sally," He begins, "I assume that your presence here indicates that you have no wish to be sacked?"
Sally nods, "Yes sir," she replies, trying to look repentant, "I know I have been disobedient and I am prepared to accept whatever punishment you give me."
Her boss nods his head slowly and pushes his chair away from the desk, " Very well, miss, I intend to begin by spanking you. Lift that thing you call a skirt and get across my knee!"
The word 'begin' gnaws at her mind, but she deduces that maybe he has something nice in mind too. She walks around his desk and stands beside him. Her confidence evaporating rapidly, she reaches hesitantly for the hem of her skirt, secretly pleased that she had chosen to wear her peach silk French knickers today which would at least cover her bottom properly.
"Get on with it! Wretched girl! Do you think I have all night to waste on you??" He watches as she inches the skirt up her thighs, wriggling her hips slightly in order to slide it over her bum. Her knickers come into view and she hesitates. "Higher! I want that skirt right up around your waist."
She feels tears sting her eyes as his words stab her consciousness. He has never spoken to her like this. His voice exudes an authority which drives her to obey without question. Her breathing catches as trepidation tightens her throat, she shuffles unsteadily towards him.
He reaches out his right arm and firmly plants a hand in the small of her back, propelling her forward until her knees are against his trousered thigh, until finally she has to collapse forward across them.
She feels his hand under her buttocks, propelling her further over until she has to put her hands on the carpet to prevent from falling right over. The blood rushes to her head as her hair falls forward, her breasts swing under the effect of gravity and the nipples brush against her blouse and spring erect. He wraps an arm around her waist, holding her firmly and adjusting her until he is completely satisfied with her position. His hand remains in contact with her bum cheeks, testing their resilience.
As unaccustomed as she is to such an undignified position, something deep inside is triggered as she remembers her childhood spankings across her fathers knee. Strangely she finds there is something comforting and secure about lying face down across a strong man's lap, something which stirs emotions where she least expected them.
"Now then, my young lady," his voice startles her back to the present, "I am going to spank this arse which you so like to flaunt to the world, and I am going to keep on spanking it until I see some sign of repentance. And then I will give you a chance to consider your future behaviour, before your real punishment begins."
She hears the words and tenses, too flustered to absorb the full meaning of what he has told her. She has time to congratulate herself on her choice of underwear just as the hand lifts away from her bottom .......and spanks back down onto her left cheek. "hhhhmmmmmfffffff" escapes her lips as another spank lands across the center of her right cheek.
She measures the sting. It is not as bad as she remembers from her childhood and resolves to bear it stoically, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her reduced to tears and hearing her plead for mercy.
He rests his palm on her bum as he waits for the sting of the first two spanks to sink in. He slides his hand upwards over her buttocks, hooking thumb and fingers into the wide legs of her panties, dragging them up into the crack of her arse and baring her cheeks ready for the next volley of spanks.
".....smack!......... slap!....... spank!......... slap!............ crack!........ smack!........", the sound of hard male hand striking soft bare female flesh rings around the room as he settles into a steady cadence. None of the spanks are hard, and they are spread all over each cheek, ranging from the upper swell of her mounds all the way down to the crease where thigh swells into buttock. He feels her jerk slightly as each smack lands, and notes that she is bearing the sting in silence.
"......splatt!........ spank!....... smack!........... slap!..........slap!......... spank!", she grits her teeth as the slight stinging steadily increases in intensity until each one forces a small exclamation from her lips. "ahh!....... ooh!.......... owww!......... aahheech!"
She sobs as her breath catches in her throat, she is panting for air and she feels tears run down her nose and drip onto the blue carpet. The spanking hand continues to add to the burning in her arse and she tries to dodge her bum from side to side in order to evade the next one, "splatt!......... smack!....... spank!.....". Suddenly it is all too much for her and she begins to blubber just as she always used to when she was a little girl. "oowww!......oouucchhhh!.SIR!....pleeese!....owwww!...I'msorrryyyy"
His hand is stinging fiercely now and each smack brings a sharp pain which runs up his arm. He stops, breathing heavily, "Right Sally....... get up!" he helps her struggle off his lap and watches as her hands fly back to rub unashamedly at her sore arse. Her tight skirt stays wrapped around her waist but she seems not to care about the display she is making. "Now go and stand in that corner. I will finish your punishment once you have had time to consider how you will conduct yourself in future."
"humphhh...... <sob>.......f..f.fin... <sob>....finish?..sir?.....ooooooohhhhnoooooo!", but she trails over and stands in the corner indicated, her head hanging, her hands pressed tightly against her hotly burning cheeks. Her frantic breathing gradually slows until just an occasional <sob> escapes. The hot burning in her arse has dulled to a warm throb that beats in time with her heart. She is aware of the heat radiating inwards through her body, causing a distinct thrill between her legs, a hot flush of embarrassment spreads across her face as she realizes that she is getting wet, and knows just how much it will show on the material of her knickers.
"Please, sir, can I go now, please? I have learnt my lesson. Please?"
"Go! Go?? Oh no, Sally!! Your punishment has just begun, miss!" Turn around and come here." He has moved to stand beside the oddly placed chairs.
She frowns to herself, "surely I have been spanked and that is it?". Nevertheless she turns and walks slowly towards him. Her eyes open wide as she sees his hands move to unbuckle the broad leather belt around his waist! This is something which brings memories flooding back, memories which she would rather forget! Her Dad had always done just that, she would stand, eyes wide like a rabbit transfixed by a snake, watching as the belt was slipped out of it's loops and slowly coiled around his hand. Mr. Turnbull mirrors her own fathers every move, suddenly she is a gangly teenager again, about to be strapped across her bare bum.
"Nooooooooooo......... pleeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssse!", but she knows it is no use, it never was.
"I intend to whip this belt across your backside until I am certain that you have learnt to behave in future. Now strip!"
His voice, and the smarting in her bottom, brook no argument. Her hands move falteringly around, unzipping the skirt, unbuttoning the smart white blouse. She moves with as much speed as her quivering fingers will allow, she does not want to incur any more punishment than she is already due. Her hands move to the high waist of her expensive French knickers, she pauses and looks imploring at him, then with a <sob> she slides them slowly down over her roundly swelling cheeks and further down her thighs until they slip down to her ankles of their own accord. She steps out of them and instinctively covers her bush with her hands, staring at his feet. Her eyes flick back to the belt, hanging limply but threateningly from his right hand.
"The final part of your correction is about to begin, Sally. Kneel on this chair and bend over the back." He pauses while she complies, noting how she tries to climb onto the chair seat without parting her legs too much. He knows that her writhing will display much more of her hidden charms before he is through. "Lean right over, grip the bars with both hands, and keep your head on the seat of the other chair. You will remain in this position. Any attempt to get up, or avoid the strap will result in my starting again. Is that clear, Sally??" He hears a small voice emerge from somewhere underneath her body.
"yes sir, please sir, not too hard sir, it still stings sir!" She knows now, this is what has been missing from her life. She has been behaving like a brat and has been getting away with it. Suddenly she realizes that her behaviour was subconsciously designed to provoke someone into spanking her, to re-enact the safe, parental control which she had been missing so badly. She is certain now that he knows what she so deeply craves, this will not be the last time she feels fire ignited across her naked ass. She ducks her head right down and arches her back, pushing her buttocks out, as if to welcome the stinging bite of his belt.
He watches her every movement intently, her attitude is that of one who has already learnt. One who accepts that she deserves to be punished. Further punishment of the pinkened cheeks is not really necessary, but he must, he has promised. Six strokes should be enough to drive his control home.
He lightly swings the end of the belt across her cheeks, watching them twitch at the contact, finding the range........ his arm swings back, and forward, swinging the end of the belt in a wide arc to land across both cheeks with a sharp SPLATT!
Her back arches upwards, as if to pull her ass away from the belt's bite, she utters a low moan, and then her cheeks push back out again, ready.......
SPLATT!!..... lands slightly lower than the red stripe which is already flowering. Again her bottom tries to hide itself, ".....aaaaaAAAAACCHHhhhh...", and then pushes back into position......... SPLATT!! ............aaaiiiiiaarrrggghhhh ..............SPLATTT!...... iiiiaaaaaaassshh ...........ssSSPLATTT!!! .........yyyooooowwww........ the final stroke lands on a diagonal, crossing previously visited flesh .....................sssSSSSPPLLAATTTT!!!...... mmnnnnnyyyAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!
She seems to know it is over, her weight collapses onto the chair backs and her breath comes in great wracking gasps as she struggles to absorb and contain the sting.
He steps forward and gently runs his hand across each red striped cheek, he cannot help but notice her pussy peeping out from between her thighs, the lips swollen, open and wet....
His fingertips trail softly down the gorge between her nether cheeks, and on, ploughing a furrow along the warm and slippery folds. Seeking her nub, he teases it, circling slowly.......
"Yes sir, yes sir, noowww, sir. Pleeese!" She is panting now, straining her arse back towards him, begging, her knees shuffle apart on the chair as she hears his zipper slide down. She feels the head of his penis probing against her sex and thrusts backward, hungrily impaling herself on it, feeling it thrust deeply into her vagina, and she explodes in orgasm .........
This is what she needed. This is all she ever needed. The stern and loving hands of a Master. Safe at last.......
