0 comments/ 34202 views/ 6 favorites Spanked By My Boss Ch. 01 By: TessMackenzie She tells me to come into office to talk about the account we'd lost. I know which account, and I know this is probably going to be unpleasant, because we'd lost it, and she's angry, and it's all probably my fault. I'm expecting to be fired, or given a warning, or told this is going on some kind of permanent file. Instead, she tells me to come over and stand beside her. Unsure why, I do. Closer, she says. I move closer. And still closer, she says, and I move again. I'm standing right beside her, and she reaches out and takes my hand and pulls me forwards, so I overbalance. I overbalance because I have heels, nice heels, because I don't want to be so sensibly dressed at work that I don't feel good about myself. The heels really don't help me right now. She tugs, and I overbalance, surprised, unsure what's happening. I put my hand on her chair arm, to catch myself, so I don't fall right to the floor. I catch myself, and she keeps pulling. She pulls me onto her lap. She pulls me, and I let her. I don't entirely know why, because this is a very odd thing to be doing. I let her because part of me wants to be there, on her lap, I think. I let her because this is all so odd that I want to find out what she's doing. I know what she's doing, of course, but I let her do it all the same. I let her pull me over onto herself, pull until I'm lying over her lap, and as she does, when she does, her of all the people who might do this to me, it feels like a perfectly normal thing to be doing. It feels like the right thing to do. I lie there, holding myself as best I can so I don't end up slipping, one of my hands on the edge of her desk and the other on the arm of her chair. I lie there, still, unsure what's going to happen next. She seems to be looking at me, as I lie there. She looks at me, and then she pulls up my skirt. It's loose enough it slides easily, and short enough she can uncover my ass without it mattering that I'm lying on the front of it. She pulls up my skirt, and just looks at me again, and I wonder if she'd looking at my undies. They're nice ones, like my shoes, because that also makes me feel pretty at work. Nice, but not so nice they're dirty. She looks, and I lie there. We stay like that for a moment, and then, to my surprise, she spanks me. The first time she hits me, I gasp. It's a shock. I half expected it, I had some idea she might do that, since I'm lying on her lap like this, but I still didn't really expect her to hit me. She does. She smacks me. And it hurts, a lot. I gasp, and shriek, and start to tell her to stop. She hits me again, and I just gasp instead of speaking. It hurts. It's painful. It's embarrassing as well. It's embarrassing and awkward because she's my boss, and she's spanking me, and I don't know how to tell her to stop. She hits me again, a third time and then a fourth, and now my ass is burning, and all of my insides are too. All of me is wet and hot and flushed and slightly sore, and I still don't speak, because now I don't want to say anything at all. I just want her to keep going. She spanks me for a while, until I stop trying to talk. She spanks me until my ass stings and my breath is shallow and I'm so hurt and excited I can't think. No-one has ever done this to me before. I never knew I wanted anyone to. She spanks me, until I almost think I'm going to cry, until I'm almost starting to worry about eyeliner running, then she slips her hand inside my undies and fingers me. She rubs me until I come. She makes me come, then she lets me stand up, and tells me to go, and says not to let a mistake like this happen again. I nod. I say sorry, again, and go back to work. I go back to work without saying a word about what she just did. I sit at my desk with my ass stinging, thinking. I'm embarrassed and ashamed and excited, too. After a while I start trying to work out what else I can do wrong, just to get myself into trouble with her again. Spanked By My Boss Ch. 02 I've spent a week trying to think of something terrible to do, something bad enough to get her attention, but not so bad there's actual consequences for me or anyone else. I try a few things. I daringly ignore the angry sign in the office kitchen about everyone washing their own cups. I speak rudely to someone who was never going to be an actual client, where everyone can hear. I come in late two days running, without an explanation. None of it seems to be working. I try these things, and a few more days pass, and my boss doesn't say a thing. Then, unexpectedly, just as I'm leaving for the day, she tells me to wait. She say she needs to speak to me. I sit down, breathless with excitement. I sit down, achily wet, with my hands shaking, my knees trembling. I say goodbye to the few people who are still around, with a dry mouth. I check my makeup quickly and redo my eyes. I wait, and get more nervous, and more excited, and wonder what I'm doing. I wonder why I want this. I wish I'd known it would be today. I would have worn a skirt again, if I'd known. I'm wearing a suit with trousers, and that seems wrong, for what I think is going to happen. I wait, nervous. I wait, and almost want to touch myself as I do. I wait, and wait, and in the end she opens her office door and tells me to come in. I go in, uncertainly. She ignores me for a moment. The she looks at me. She looks at me, then says, impatient, "Come over here." I do, where I stood the last time, right beside her chair. She looks at me again. She looks down, at my trousers. "Those are nice," she says, touches my trousers, halfway up my thigh. "Thank you," I say. She slides her hand. She slides her fingers up the front of my thigh, so I shiver. She slides, until she almost touches my pussy, through the cloth. "They're very nice," she says. "Take them off." I hesitate, and then I do. I take them off, and fold them quickly. I look around, then go and drape the trousers over one of the chairs on the other side of the desk, and then move back to where I was standing. I stand there, and she looks at my underwear. Nice underwear again, because I'd hoped for this, even though I hadn't expected it enough to wear a skirt. "Those are nice too," she says. "Thank you," I whisper, assuming I know what she'll say next. She does. "Take them off too." I bite my lip, and then do. I'm not sure what to think. I go and tuck them into my trousers pocket, just because that seems tidiest, and then I go back to standing where I was, beside her. "Lean here," she says, and pats her lap, and I do. I take a moment to arrange myself. I slide onto her, and hold the arm of her chair. She waits, and watches me, then she slides my shirt up, where the end of it has covered my ass. "Move your foot," she says. "Further apart." I do that too. She reaches between my legs, and slides her finger along me wetly. "That's very nice, too," she says. "Thank you," I whisper. "But you're not doing any better with your work," she says, her voice changing, now stern. "I know," I say. "I'm sorry." "Sorry doesn't help," she says. "What are we going to do with you?" "I don't know," I say. She spanks me. I lie there, gripping her chair arm, gasping and wincing as she does. She spanks me more roughly this time, hitting harder, hitting me more. She spanks me carefully, moving her hand around, so I'm sore from the top of my ass all the way down to the top of my legs. She spanks me, and between times she fingers me too. I'm so wet I can feel it on her fingers sometimes as she hits me. I'm so wet I can smell myself, and hope I'm not rubbing it onto her trousers. She spanks me until I'm sobbing, until I'm begging her to stop, until I'm aching and sore all over my ass, and aching inside with wanting her too. She spanks me until I'm excited all over, warm all over, slippery wet on her hands, then she stops, and fingers me, holding me there across her lap, with her arm over my back. She fingers me, until I sigh and groan and come sharply on her hand. Then she helps me up, and hands me a box of tissues, because I'm crying, and tells me to get dressed and go and not to make so many mistakes. "I won't, I'm sorry," I say, and go back to my desk, planning my next mistake already. Spanked By My Boss Ch. 03 I make more mistakes. I make them on purpose. I fill out an anonymous complaint form on the company website, too. I fill it in, about myself, saying I'm rude and tactless and insensitive. Then I fill out another. Then I wait, hoping they will be passed along to my boss. Soon, they are. A few nights later, as everyone is packing up to go home, she calls me into her office, and shows me the complains, and tells me I never learn. "I know," I say. "I'm sorry. I'll do better." "No," she says. "Filling in fake complaints is just silly. It really is." I look at her, surprised. "The internet address is logged," she says. "You did it from here. From right out there, at your work computer." "Oh," I say, embarrassed. "Um, yes." "That's just silly," she says. "You never learn." "I'm sorry." I have a shift-dress and button-up shirt and tights, and I'm not really organized for easy undressing. She looks at me for a moment, and then tells me to take off the tights. I feel a bit awkward, but I step out of my shoes and do. She just watches, as I reach up under the dress and wriggle and tug them down. I feel a bit embarrassed, since this is about the unsexiest way to undress possible, but I manage, as best I can. I take then off, and then hold them out to her, unsure what she wants me to do. She takes them, and tells me to turn around, and put my arms behind me. I do, and she ties my wrists with my tights, firmly, behind my back. She uses a proper knot, and tugs it tight, so my arms are trapped and I can't pull them free. I try. She slaps my ass when she sees me tugging, slaps it hard, and says, "Don't do that." I stop. She turns me towards her desk, and pushes me forwards. So stumble, and slip, and almost fall. So I go forward, and land on it, land hard. So I'm suddenly lying face-down on her desk, with my hips at the edge and my feet still on the floor. She stands behind me. She lifts up my dress, and pulls my undies down, and slaps the back of my legs so I shift my feet and let her take them off me. And then she just stands there. She stands there and looks at me. I'm nervous. I'm breathing fast. She's looking at me, lying there, helpless, tied, and that's scaring me as much as it is exciting me. It's exciting me a lot. She reaches past me, and picks up a plastic ruler. A thin, whippy plastic ruler she has on her desk for keeping track of rows of numbers on spreadsheets. She shows it to me, holding it out until she's sure I've seen it, I think, and then she moves, and stands behind me. She stands behind me, out of sight, so I tense up, waiting for what I know she's about to do. I turn. I try to see. She twists her hand into my hair, and pushes my face onto her desk, and says, "Don't." I stop. I just lie there still. Nervously waiting to be hit. I know I'm about to be hit. I know the ruler will hurt, and I'm almost scared of it. I wait, but she doesn't hit me. She strokes me with the ruler instead. She slides it up the back of my legs, and slowly over my ass. I sigh, despite myself, my skin tingling where I'd expected to feel pain, all tensed-up with nervousness. She slides it down and up again, up between my legs, and then taps it against the inside of my thigh demandingly. I understand what she means. I move my feet further apart, so she can reach me more easily. She reaches. She strokes me with it. She slides the ruler higher between my legs, all the way up the insides my legs, gently teasing me. Teasing, and somehow threatening too. She strokes the ruler upwards, as high as it will go. She touches me. She touches my pussy with the corner of the ruler. She presses it against me. I jump, surprised, still nervous. It's sharp, and digs in a little, and almost hurts a little, too. It slides as she moves it. I'm wet so it slides against me. She's touching me with a ruler, and I actually enjoy that she is. She strokes. She presses. She uses it to prod at me, as if just looking, then she takes the ruler away. I jump again. I'm tense again. I know what's to come. She waits a moment, just long enough I think she won't, just long enough I think I'm wrong, again, and she isn't going to hit me. And then she does. She hits me hard, with the ruler, so it bends and wraps around me and lands sharply painful all across my ass. She hits me hard, so it hurts. So it stings. So I jump and shriek and flinch. It hurts. It hurts wonderfully. She hits me again, and then again, and I can't believe how painful it is. She hits me. She hurts me. She hurts me until I sob. She hits me until I get wet and excited, and start pressing myself down onto her desk, trying to feel it beneath myself, half-masturbating as she hits me. She hits me so I moan, and sigh, and whisper little pleas for her to stop and not to stop. She hits with the flat part of the ruler, so it's sharply widely stingy, whipping down onto me and bending around me as it lands. Then she hits me with the edge instead, which digs in more and hurts more deeply and makes me gasp and wince. She hits me ten or fifteen times, carefully up and down my ass. Hitting all of me deliberately, until it hurts all over, unbearably. She hits me until I'm crying, until I'm struggling, trying to get up. Then she puts her hand on my back, holding me down, and hits me five more times. Then she puts the ruler down, and stands behind me, and fucks me. She fucks me with her suit still on, pressing herself against me. Pushing onto me where she's just beaten me, so I feel the cloth of her trousers all rough and scratchy-soft against my sore skin, and so the pressing of her fucking hurts me every time she moves. So it hurts me wonderfully. She pushes onto me with sharp little movements, onto my tender, aching ass. Grinding me, pushing at me, then she reaches down between my legs, and presses her hand against me, rubbing me wetly as she fucks me. She fucks me until I come, and until she does too. She makes us both come, then, breathless, she pulls me back up, and unties my tights, and hands them back to me, and tells me not to be so silly next time or what she does then will be far worse. I nod. I sniff, and wipe my face, and then I nod. "Do you understand?" she said. "I do," I say. "I promise." She tells me to go, and I do. I leave. I go back to my desk, and sit awkwardly, because my ass is sore. I sit down, and fill in another complaint form, right then and there, hoping she sees it right away.