Office Work

W endy worked in the offices of General Sales, Inc. at their suburban offices near her home. She was an attractive mother of two in her mid thirties. Although her figure was never going to look like it did when she was in the Homecoming Court in high school, she as still, as her husband reminded her, "easy on the eyes." She usually chose her clothes carefully to show her legs and not hide, but neither call attention to her rather full breasts. Oh, she was professional, very professional; but every once in a while she did catch the younger salesmen in the office looking her way. With some of them, she enjoyed flirting, bending over to pick up something so they could look down her blouse and fumbling with whatever she dropped before she straightened up again. "Harmless flirtations," she told herself, but she also knew some of the guys called her tease.

Her boss, Larry Ashcroft, was an up and coming sales manager with high expectation of both his sales force and his staff. If he expected his sales people to increase their sales 5 to 10% every quarter, he expected to have the staff support him and his sales force with fast, accurate turnaround of invoices, proposals, correspondence, and reports. He was in his early forties, very attractive, but rather formal, even intimidating. For some reason that she could not quite put her finger on, Wendy found those qualities rather exciting. Although she and her husband were happily married, she knew he enjoyed looking, and she couldn’t help wondering what it might be like with other men. Mr. Ashcroft made her feel different from the hunks that she and her girlfriends checked out over drinks at the end of the week. Today, Mr. Ashcroft was making Wendy very nervous. He had asked her to do something very simple, and she had managed to make a mess of it. When he reviewed it, he corrected it with angry red marks for a page or two, and then had attached a note to it that basically said "Do it over, and this time don’t screw it up." Her second effort had been much better, but he told her before he headed out of town to visit the other offices in his territory that they would have to discuss her performance.

He had gotten back to the office this morning and the routine of catching up and putting out fires had consumed all morning. Wendy had dressed with extra care this morning in anticipation of her meeting with Mr. Ashcroft. Her skirt was a bit shorter, her blouse a bit tighter, and her heels were a little higher. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it, but it make her feel a bit better when she was rewarded by her husband with a, "You look hot today, babe," right before he left for work. Normally, dressing well built Wendy’s confidence, sometimes making her a bit more daring, but today, the anticipation of her meeting just got her more and more flustered.

T he stack of papers in Mr. Ashcroft’s inbox steadily shrank over the course of the morning, and she did her best to keep up with his pace, but it was all a bit too much. She was making too many mistakes, and although she caught most of them, she knew she couldn’t catch them all. Finally, a little after lunch, her telephone rang. "Wendy," It was Mr. Ashcroft’s voice, a bit more formal than usual, "I need to see you in my conference room, right away."

"Yes, Mr. Ashcroft." Wendy’s heart sank. What if he fired her? Her husband made good money as a bank vice president downtown. They really did not need her income, but she did enjoy the work, and with the kids in middle school, there really wasn’t much for her to do around the house. She did not want to have to look for another job, this was convenient to home and had just enough challenge to make it interesting. Everyone was really nice. "I’ll be right in, Mr. Ashcroft."

She put down the telephone, stood up and took a few seconds to steady her nerves, straightened her skirt, and opened the door into his conference room. It was a little larger than his office with a long table and some chairs. At one end was an AV wall for presentations. Since sensitive negotiations with clients often took place in there, the room was thoroughly soundproofed. Mr. Ashcroft sat looking at some papers on the table. Wendy’s heart sank when she saw that the papers include some of the work she had done this morning. She closed the door behind her and waited for him to look up.

"Wendy," he said without looking up, "This is not really up to your normal standards, and it definitely doesn’t meet my expectations."

"Yes, Mr. Ashcroft." She tried to be strong, but there was a catch in her voice.

"I thought that thing you screwed up last week was an aberration, but I see by these that you may have some difficulty focusing on your work."

"Yes, Mr. Ashcroft." She looked down at the floor. "I will try to do better in the future."

"I know you are capable of producing the quality of work I require." He finally looked up at her. He turned his chair and really looked at her. For the first time he noticed how attractive she was, really noticed. "I really can’t let this pass. If it happened again, I’d have to seriously think about letting you go." He looked at her face and then slow let his eyes travel down her neck, past the promising curves of her breasts, past her stomach and hips, to her legs, and down to a very nice pair of high heels that accented the very attractive curve to her legs. <

"I don’t know what to say, Mr. Ashcroft." She felt rather than saw his eyes traversing her body. She felt apprehension and some fear, "He really is going to fire me." But there was another sensation that she really didn’t understand. "I promise that it won’t happen again." Something took over her voice and "I really, really promise," came out in a voice that she had not hear from herself since she was a girl. Then she realized what the strange feeling was: arousal. The kind of arousal she and her husband rarely provided for each other any more. "Do I want to make love to my boss?" Another self was asking the question.

"Wendy," as he began, she noticed her breath was a bit faster. "Maybe if there were some motivation, some action that might deter you from letting your mind wander from your work." Her eyes were on him now, and her lips were slightly parted. She was beginning to be aroused; did he feel something as well? "Does he want to make love to me?"

She looked up from the floor and met his eyes. "I really like my job, Mr. Ashcroft. I like the office; I like my co-workers; I like the work, I even like you." She smiled ever so slightly in spite of herself. "Please give me another chance. I’ll do whatever you ask." As soon as she said it, she realized she should regret that statement, but didn’t. She looked to one side at the pile of papers on the table. "What does he want me to do?" she wondered frantically. Almost at the same time, she felt herself getting, well, horny. "Maybe he wants to touch me."

"I really cannot just let it go, Wendy." He had leaned back in the chair and touched the tips of his fingers together. His eyes were on her breasts as her breathing grew heavier. "I really must take some sort of action so that this sort of thing does not happen again." He stood up.

"I understand, Mr. Ashcroft."

"Come here, Wendy."

She hesitated only a moment before taking the two steps to be next to him. "God, he’s tall, and was that a bulge beginning to appear in his pants?"

"Bend over the table."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Ashcroft?" She must not have heard right.

"Bend over the table, Wendy."

She put her hands on the conference table and bent over, still supporting most of her weight on her feet. "More." She bent at the waist, and now she was supporting her upper body on her arms. "All the way over, Wendy. I don’t want to have to say it again."

She hesitated only an instant, looking up at him before bending all the way over. Her legs were long enough that her ass was higher than the rest of her body. She could feel the cool of the conference table on her breasts through her clothes. Her skirt must be hiked up so high that she wondered if he could see her panties.

"When was the last time you were spanked for something you did, Wendy, or didn’t do?

She blinked, not believing that he had asked that question. Did he really want to administer corporal punishment for some clerical errors? On the other hand, she knew that some men and some women liked "spanking games" as one of her girlfriends had called it.

"When was it?"

"I don’t remember, Mr. Ashcroft, probably when I was a girl." She and her husband had never done anything like that, and she could not really understand when Charlotte told her that her husband could really spice up an evening with a paddle or a leather belt. At the same time, she was getting hotter and hotter.

"Maybe it’s time you had another one. Maybe a little blistered behind would remind you to be more conscientious in the future." He ran one of his hands up her thigh. Now Wendy was embarrassed. No man other than her husband had touched her like that since well before her wedding. Her face reddened, but she could to tell him to stop. He lifted her skirt over her ass, up to her waist.

"I think this might be the right remedial action. Would a good spanking help you to remember your duties?" He ran his hand over her butt, pausing ever so slightly over the crack of her ass under the taut panty fabric. She trembled from his touch. He wasn’t sure that it was apprehension and fear or lust; maybe both? "What do you think, Wendy?"

Wendy could not remember being in such a state of sexual arousal. She could feel the wetness between her legs and almost wished out loud for her husband to be here to satisfy her. Mr. Ashcroft was here. She became even more aware of his hand on her ass.

"Wendy?"

"What did he asked me?" Wendy was in a near state of panic between the sexual tension and apprehension over her punishment.

SMACK! She heard crack of his hand against her butt before she felt it.

"Wendy! You weren’t paying attention!"

SMACK!

"No!" She instinctively jerked from the blow.

"Wendy! I asked you if you thought a hard spanking might help to improve your performance."

SMACK!

This time she stood up. "Lean back down." His voice was low and firm with just the right amount of threat. She reassumed the position. "You need a good spanking."

SMACK!

"God! It hurt!" she thought, but she was horny as hell, too. Wendy was now thoroughly confused. She was afraid of the spanking that had already started; she was embarrassed; she was humiliated by her vulnerability in front of Mr. Ashcroft.

SMACK!

And; she was so turned on. She did not consider herself to be a prude, but she thought of what she and her husband did together as "having sex" and "making love." Other people screwed; one of her girlfriends from college was constantly screwing around, but Wendy had always been proud that she "made love" to her man. Now; now she on the edge of just wanting to be fucked.

SMACK!

The sharpness of the blow made her catch her breath. She did not realize that he was pulling her panties down until they were wadded around her upper thighs. Sometimes Wendy wondered if her girlfriend, Gloria, had seduced her husband. She had certainly seduced other husbands. One summer at a pool party in the neighborhood, Wendy had seen Gloria lead two husbands off into a storage shed. She had followed the second time, wondering what they could be doing. She had been close enough to hear them breathing heard and talking dirty, Gloria had actually told this guy to fuck her! Wendy had been rooted to the ground while the grunting and moaning began in earnest. More talk of hard pricks and wet pussies and then it was over. Wendy slipped into the shadows just as the storage shed door opened. Gloria came out first barely dressed in her skimpy swim suit, and then Chuck has come behind her, put his around her and squeezed her breasts hard.

SMACK!

That wasn’t his hand. Wendy had not heard him loosen his belt after taking her panties down.

SMACK!

The belt hurt more than his hand. She felt her ass cheeks stinging from the impact. There were tears in Wendy’s eyes now. She clenched her fists and her teeth and tried to steel herself for the next . . .

SMACK!

SMACK!

Two sharp strikes in a row with his belt. Wendy caught her breath and then was conscious of another sensation building between her legs.

SMACK!

She screamed, but it was from her orgasm, not his belt. She couldn’t see his smile. She could not know his musings about her, his wondering if she was into this sort of thing, and she knew nothing about his conclusions. Her ass was squirming and her body was in a tense spasm from the throes of sexual pleasure. If she could have read his mind, she might have been shocked as he wondered if he should fuck her ass, or just give her cunt a good workout. Wendy did not usually think in those terms and would have been shocked that her boss would.

Wendy’s wits came back to her and she realized what had just happened. She was gasping for air and trembling. She had never had that kind of orgasm with her husband. That was the kind of orgasm she imagined they wrote about in Cosmo, not what she had come to expect.

SMACK!

"No!" Wendy choked out a cry as the pain seared through her ass cheeks. "Please, no!" She put her hand back to guard her butt against further assault. He roughly grabbed it and pulled it aside, holding it as he hit her again.

SMACK!

"I’m not sure that this qualifies as a good spanking yet, Wendy."

SMACK!

"You have been a bad girl, a very bad girl. You need to be punished so that it never happens again."

SMACK!>

Wendy felt her second orgasm coming through the pain. Somehow, his holding her hand so roughly made it all even more exciting.

SMACK!

Wendy had never before had more than two or three orgasms while making love, and now she could feel the third building as the second racked her body. Briefly, she longed for a hard cock in her pussy, and then she was lost to the waves of sensation rolling through her body.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! . . .

She was conscious that he had stopped spanking her. The orgasms subsided, and now the only sensation was a stinging heat on her ass. Still, she wanted more. "Please," she thought, "please fuck me." In the next instant, she was horrified of her unspoken need. "Please," she forced herself to think, "don’t fuck me."

SMACK!

"No, please stop." Her voice was choked and there were tears in her eyes.

SMACK!

Another orgasm was out there, but she now wanted this one to come with a stiff cock buried inside her. She had to have . . .

SMACK!

"Please. No. Please, fuck me!" She couldn’t believe that she had said it. She usually communicated her need to her husband with her hands, grasping his erection and pulling him to her. "Fuck me, please."

SMACK!

The belt was relentless. "God! Fuck me!" Wendy was now focused on her need for maleness to thrust into her womb, to have a stiff prick fuck her wet pussy. "Fuck me," she pleaded.

SMACK!

"Ram your cock into my pussy; fuck me!" She felt his hands on her ass and then one hand on his stiff prick between her legs. She tried to spread her legs a little more to make it easier, but now he was forcing himself into her, thrusting through her wet entrance. "Fuck me!" she urged, and then he was in. There was no resistance once the head of his prick pushed past her cunt lips. With one hard thrust, he was deep inside her, and he began fucking her with hard fast strokes. His hands pulled her hips toward him and his hips slammed against her ass and thighs. She had no frame of reference for this "fucking." None of the three boyfriends she had had sex with before her husband had ever done this. Her husband’s lovemaking had always been tender and gentle even when it was urgent. She now knew what it was to be fucked: to have her pussy filled with banging hard cock. She now understood all those crude references she had sometimes overheard and occasionally read. This was pure lust; hard fucking. The orgasm that had started before the last blow was coming closer, and he was fucking her even harder. Now he was holding her against him, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he pumped his load into her pussy. She was in the middle of her orgasm when he had started to come, and the idea of his cream inside her made the orgasm even more intense. He held her hips close as he flooded her pussy with cum and then released her. She felt his prick withdraw from her and then a trickle of wet on the inside of her thighs.

"Get up, Wendy." His voice came to her through a foggy post-coital haze. "Wendy. Get on your feet." She stood up and turned to him as he was putting his belt back on. Her skirt clung to her waist and her panties were still down around her thighs. He could see her bush, the that pointed down to her slit. She pulled her panties up and smoothed her skirt down. "I think we better get back to work now, Wendy. I trust that this you will keep this corrective action in mind as you do your job in the future."

"Yes, Mr. Ashcroft."