Fridays

“You understand that I should fire you,” he said. “Accessing pornographic sites from our offices is clearly against company policy, and we have zero tolerance.”

I nodded.

“But I can see you’re a girl who probably just needs some discipline.”

It was that last word that did it. The heat returned to my cheeks, and suddenly I was breathless. “Yes,” I said, and then added, “sir.”

He smiled again, and I melted. “That’s better, Nixy,” he said. 24 hours ago he’d never even heard that nickname, but I liked the way he said it. I felt warm all over. “You can either lose your job, which you deserve to do, or come put yourself over my lap for a hard hand-spanking.” He was excited by the thought. It was written all over his face.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he continued, “And then every Friday evening for the next three months you will stay late, and you’ll receive another spanking from me. After that it will only be repeated as necessary to impress upon you that I will not tolerate this kind of behavior.”

I couldn’t lift my eyes off the carpet. Twelve spankings?

“And,” he went on, “You have to write about it. Every detail. And post it. Every time. What it felt like before, during, and after. Not a moment left out.”

This was unexpected. And embarrassing. I not only would have to endure what was sure to be very painful punishments at his hands, but then I had to tell everyone every detail, and presumeably he would be reading to be sure I did. But I like my job, and I could do this.

“Okay,” I said. “Now, or…”

“Now,” he said.

Good grief, it was the middle of the day. Anyone who was walking by might hear. I just had to hope people were at lunch.

I walked over to him, and he pulled his chair away from his desk to allow me full access to his lap.

“Skirt up, panties down,” he said.

I bit my lip again, which I tend to do when I am nervous. Why was I nervous? I’d been spanked before, and recently as he well knew. Why is this time different, I asked myself. I had no answer, but it just was.

I tugged my skirt up, determined to just get it over with. I hesitated only briefly before pulling down my panties. His eyes were roaming my neatly trimmed mound. I quickly knelt and went over his lap, my panties at my knees.

His hand rested on my bottom and he rubbed it gently. I expected him to say something, to remind me of why I was getting this spanking, but I suppose there was no need. Instantly his hand came down on my bottom, and just as quickly it slapped down again. The shock of it made me cry out initially, but then I brought my hand to my mouth. I couldn’t shout, as much as I wanted to. Not unless I wanted everyone who worked on our floor to come bursting into Andy’s office.

His fast spanks covered my tender bum. He spanked all over, one smack after another, faster than I would have thought possible, especially considering these were truly hard spanks. He meant it, and that was certain. My pussy tingled. I clenched my bottom cheeks together, not wanting him to see my excitement.

I knew there was no getting away, but he’d begun hitting one spot repeatedly, and it stung like mad. I wriggled on his lap. I couldn’t help it.
“Hold still,” he said, his voice low and firm.

“Oh, Andy,” I cried as softly as I could manage while he continued to batter my blistering bottom, “I can’t!”

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Categories : BDSM Stories | Erotic Stories | Spanking Stories | Straight Stories Tags: blow-job | discipline | office | spanking