It was a week before he touched her. She almost had to force him. Standing by his desk, her hand on his knee, bent over so that her breasts were bare and visible beneath her blouse, she smiled at him and took his hand, guiding it towards her right breast. At first he left it there, unmoving, but gradually, provoked by Maria's smiles and words of encouragement, his fingers began to press and squeeze, tightening over her nipple and twisting it tenderly. He had a gentle touch, Maria told us, and a boyish shyness which was endearing in a sixty-year old man. Not that we had time for sentiment, of course. The line had been breached, the game was on, the second male in the Office was groping, dick-first, towards his doom.

From that point, Fred's inhibitions vanished. Having crossed the threshold of decency, there was no stopping him. Over the next couple of nights Maria stripped and masturbated while stretched on his desk, let him roam his hands all over her body and finally wanked him as he sat in his big chair, thanking the Lord for this unexpected turn of events late in his life. "He still gets really hard," Maria told us, "and he takes ages to come. My hands were aching by the time I got him to spurt his stuff all over the place. Hardly seemed worth it when you saw what came out - about a thimbleful, no more." We nodded our condolences and I stroked her breast lightly. It was time for payback.

We agreed out strategy, synchronised our watches and Maria went into action. I waited in my own office, pacing up and down. Mr Loverman was bent over my desk, his trousers at his ankles, arse upwards. Distractedly, I smacked him every few seconds, and rattled his cock cage whenever I felt he wasn't looking penitent enough. I did enjoy those expressions of martyred agony he unconsciously flashed whenever his precious little cock was assaulted like that. "Won't be long now, Mr Loverman," I told him. "The second man is about to fall under our control. You and Fred, what a pair, eh? It's no wonder we started with you two: biggest pair of losers you could ever hope to meet. Aren't you, Mr Loverman?"

"Yes Miss."

See what I mean?

At the appointed time I stood before Fred's office, counted to five and walked in. I screamed. I was particularly proud of that scream - even I was frightened by it. Maria was kneeling beside Fred's desk, her arms tied behind her back and her breasts exposed. Fred was standing in front of her, naked from the waist down, his hands on Maria's head and his cock in her mouth.

"Fred!" I yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Harriet. No. It's not what you think."

"It bloody well is, man. What are you doing?"

"I can explain."

"She's tied up."

"She asked me to."

Of course she did, little man, that was the plan.

"Don't be so bloody stupid, Fred. D'you expect me to believe that?" I ranted for a few moments, gesticulating wildly, threatening to call the police. Even if I say it myself, my performance was magnificent, and Fred was completely taken in. His cock was flaccid by now, a wrinkled, dark worm nestled in the grey hairs of his crotch and thighs. His legs were thin and spindly, knees together and feet splayed. His expression was one of terror, a man caught in an impossible situation and panicking over the outcome.

"Please, Harriet, you have to believe me."

I snorted contemptuously and lifted the telephone. "I'm calling the police," I replied primly and paused. This was Maria's cue.

"It's true." Maria's voice, soft and low, interrupted the dialogue. We turned to her.

"What?" I said, manufacturing as much surprise as I could muster.

"It's true," she repeated. "I asked him to. God, this is so embarrassing, but Fred - he's so masterful, and so kinky. I love doing things for him. We do it all the time." Fred's face was magnificent: first, there was overwhelming relief that Maria was confirming his story, saving him from police, scandal, imprisonment; but then there was amazement, spilling over into concern as she began to conjure a relationship which didn't exist. She continued, graphically detailing events which hadn't happened, and yet Fred couldn't contradict them - she was his only alibi. The poor dear could only nod his assent at descriptions of his manly prowess, of the firmness of his hand as he spanked her bare bottom, and of his jets of come which flew the length of his desk: he was a man lost, his situation out of control.

Maria appeared oblivious of his confusion. "I love him to tie me up and spank me and use me. He does it so well. It makes me so hot - and wet." Now, although none of this was true, her words - as she knelt before him, arms still bound, breath whispering over his cock - were having an effect on him, and his erection was growing once more. Fred was caught, his little dick hooked by our concocted story: it was time for the killer blow. "And I love to do it to him too. He loves me to spank him, don't you Freddie?" She reached forward and licked him, and his cock jumped in approval. He stood speechless, battling the urge to deny such an outrageous allegation, but knowing he couldn't without his alibi disappearing.

"Well," I said, "I didn't think you had it in you, Fred - Freddie. I can see it's all true, though." I nodded at his cock, now fully erect, and he blushed.

He began to speak. "But it's not 3;"

I cut him off. I didn't want denials: they wouldn't serve. Acquiescence was what I needed. "You're very naughty though, Freddie. Using the cleaner like that. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Untie the poor girl."

Fred was so confused he was terrified. And terror fed his confusion. It was a vicious circle which threatened to blow his mind. He was almost gibbering as he scrambled to untie Maria, trying to protest his innocence but knowing that by so doing he was arguing against his own claims that the liaison was consensual.

"So she's lying? She didn't agree to it?"

"Yes, it was her idea."

"So she's telling the truth?"

"Yes."

"So you do spank her?"

"N 3; aah, yes."

"And she does spank you?"

Poor Fred was out of his depth. Whatever he said he seemed to implicate himself, and he could find no way out. "No 3; yes 3; but 3;" He stopped. In the end, he realised his only escape was to confirm Maria's story. "Yes, it's true," he said, eyes downcast. He looked a miserable specimen, his trousers draped round his ankles and his cock at half mast.

"That's very naughty. I'm amazed Freddie." He eyed me cautiously, knowing that his career would be over if I were to say anything. I put him at his ease. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone. What two people choose to get up to in their own time is their business, not mine." The look of relief which washed over his face was quickly removed as I continued. "But," I said, making my voice as stern as I could, "it really is very, very naughty of you. In your own office, for goodness sake. Isn't it?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Naughty enough to be punished, I'd say."

There was silence. Nobody looked at anybody else. I repeated the words.

"I 3;" he stammered.

"Don't you think so, Maria?"

"Oh yes," she replied enthusiastically. "Just like last night, isn't that right, Freddie darling?" She gripped her hand around his cock. Drowning in his own lies, Freddie could only nod. Maria tightened her grip and led the confused man towards his desk, stretching him over it and flattening him against the walnut surface. Before he really knew what was happening, Fred was draped across the desk, his bared arse exposed to Maria and me. Without giving him an opportunity to reconsider, Maria spanked him hard, the crack rifling around the room. Fred yelled and gripped the sides of the desk. She positioned herself beside him, spreading her legs, adjusting the weight on the balls of her feet, and spanked him again and again and again. For a second I felt sorry for him: Maria had honed her skills on Mr Loverman's compliant backside, and she was a skilled spanker.

I walked around the room until I was standing directly opposite the pair. Fred's cheek was pressed against the polished walnut of the desk, his eyes closed. "Fred," I cooed. He looked up and caught my eye, a wave of humiliation sweeping across his face. "Enjoying that?"

Again, he couldn't deny it without giving the lie to his previous story. He was completely trapped in our carefully constructed web, a little man drawn to doom by the temptations of the flesh. A mere quarter of an hour before he would not have believed he could find himself in this situation. He closed his eyes, a spurt of breath flying from his mouth as Maria unleashed another furious blow on his arse, and bit his lip.

"Yes," he whispered.

Maria continued her assault, poor Fred's assent giving her the freedom to expand her technique. She plied blow upon blow on him, covering every centimetre of his exposed flesh, causing him to cry and scream and beg forgiveness. His bottom was bruised and livid as he left the office that evening.

And his body was ours.