“Yes, sir.” She left, feeling hollow inside.
That evening, as Emily drank her wine and paced in the kitchen, she argued with herself. Quit, don’t quit. Quit and get away from his control and demands. Don’t quit because you need the money—and you really do like what he does to you. That was the confusing part, admitting to her desires. Face it, she was falling for this man! Was it because he reminded her of her father? She decided she was just too isolated and wondered if Julie could help her. But to admit all this to Julie—how embarrassing would that be? Would she make her show her sore bottom? Her best friend might laugh at her—or worse, tell her to quit on the spot.
That last part made Emily stand up straight. She didn’t want to have someone tell her to quit because she didn’t want to. As much as her mind told her to get out, her body said, “Let’s see where this goes. Just for a little while longer.”
She was out of sexy panties the next morning and realized she had forgotten to buy new ones. So she put on the new French cut ones with the lacy edges. Surely those would be all right. She wore a tan skirt that came to her knees and a light blue blouse. In the mirror, she looked quite the professional.
At work, she waited nervously for Mr. Caudry. Yesterday, he had made her show him her panties right away—would he do that again? Would it become a regular part of their morning? It was so wrong and yet her pussy throbbed with need.
When he came in, she found herself standing to greet him, as if he was a visiting dignitary. “Hello, Mr. Caudry.”
He nodded and jerked his head toward his office. Quietly, she followed him inside.
“Show me,” he said and she bit her lip.
“Mr. Caudry—” she began and he cut her off with a wave of her hand.
“That’s one.”
One? One what? Then she knew. One mistake. Now he was making her pay for mistakes in behavior! She lifted her skirt to show him her new yellow panties. He stared at her crotch for a long time and she felt like a little girl who had just spilled her juice.
“I thought we discussed what was acceptable,” he said at last.
“But sir, I didn’t have any clean—”
“A useless excuse. That’s two.”
Her face blushed red. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. She wanted to drop her skirt and flee but she could only stand there, waiting for some guidance from her boss. How sick was that?
“We’re up to seven per mistake, so that means fourteen swats,” he said casually. She knew she could never stand that. Could she? Or would she collapse into a puddle of orgasms, making her humiliation worse?
“But I’ll give you a choice,” he continued and her spirits lifted. A choice! Anything was better than fourteen strokes with that dammed ruler! “I want you to remove those panties and place them on my desk. If you do, I’ll cut your punishment in half.”
She stared at him, her body trembling. She couldn’t explain why she found herself dropping the skirt and reaching underneath to slide her panties down her thighs. He held up a hand and she froze.
“Tuck your skirt in first, in front.”
Emily stared at him, afraid to move. He would see everything—he might even see how wet she was right now! That couldn’t happen! “Uh, sir—”
“Are you arguing with me? Then forget it. That’s three. Assume the position or get out.”
“Please, sir,” she said as she tucked her skirt up and stripped her panties down. “Please don’t do that! See? I’m doing it.”
He paused. “Stand up straight.”
She did and watched as he stared at her now naked pussy, covered only by her tuft of pubic hair. Her arousal was obvious, she was certain. She wanted to melt into the floor. After a long time, he nodded. “Very well. For obeying me despite your embarrassment, I’ll go easy and make it ten strokes.”
Emily started to get into position when she realized he was about to spank her on her bare bottom! She wanted to protest, to run from the office, but she dared not risk his ire. Meekly, she leaned over the desk. Her skirt was still tucked in at the front, and when he tucked in the back part, she was completely exposed.
He retrieved the ruler and turned on the radio. He leaned down next to her and said, “You were pretty loud last time, so I’m going to gag you.”
Her eyes went wide. Gag me!
“Don’t worry, it’s for your own protection. I’m sure you don’t want those cubicle drones to hear your punishments, now do you?”
She shook her head and felt a silk handkerchief being slipped into place in her mouth. He tied it tightly in the back of her head. She had a sudden vision of herself: Hunched over his desk, naked ass and pussy on display, a gag in her mouth. She must look like a real slut.
Whack! Whack!
The ruler felt sharp against her bare skin, much worse than before. She gasped and moaned into the gag. Her bottom began its dance of avoidance.
Two more blows and already her orgasm was building within her. She was helpless to stop it, even if she wanted to. She knew he would force it from her if she didn’t allow it to erupt spontaneously. She allowed her clit to bump against the edge of the desk.
Whack! Whack!
Her bottom was on fire now. How could she stand four more? She’d never make it. She moaned and danced and pleaded with him into her gag. She tried to keep her hips from the desk, but they seemed to have a mind of their own.
Twice more Emily was struck and she could barely stand now, her body was shaking and her feet were dancing up and down as she tried to wiggle away from his blows. Her orgasm was like a tsunami, roaring at her and she felt helpless before it. One more bump and she’d be lost.
Whack! Whack!
Her hips jutted forward, mashing her clit against the desk and she humped it, not caring that Mr. Caudry was watching her. Her orgasm washed over her and she collapsed onto the desk. She shook and mewed into her gagged, waves of pleasure rolling through her like ripples on a pond. This went against everything she had been taught. Sex was meant to be shared with someone you love—sex wasn’t meant to be experienced in your boss’s office, spread out over his desk, your ass up and willing.
Unless she was already in love with this man.
As she started to come down from her high, she felt Mr. Caudry’s body press up against her and could not muster an objection as his hand once again came around to her bare clit. She felt his fingers expertly dip into her wetness to draw up the moisture to her clit and rub her hard. She came again in seconds, her body shaking once again and she knew she was lost now. She was at his mercy. No one had ever made her feel this way.
He stepped back and silence fell in the room, except for the radio playing jazz. From that moment on, Emily would associate jazz music with sex and would find herself lubricating at once, just like Pavlov’s dogs.
As before, Mr. Caudry seemed dismissive, but his voice was soft. “You may go.” He untied her gag and slipped it from her mouth.
She gathered herself up and pressed her skirt down with her hands. Her pussy still trembled underneath. She glanced at Caudry’s desk, seeing the spot of yellow there and wondered if she should ask for them back. Her eyes raised to his and he gave a tiny shake of his head. She imagined him touching them, holding them to his nose and she left, that image burning into her mind. She paused and stared out over the cubicle farm to see one or two of the nearest workers glancing up at her. Did they know? Could they hear? She went at once to the ladies room to clean up.
Later, Emily sat at her desk feeling very strange without her panties. She worried that somehow, people might suspect. She kept her legs together and tried not to rise from her computer unless she had to.
Twice that day, Mr. Caudry asked her into his office, but not for punishments. Once he wanted coffee and another time to clarify a report detail. Each time, Emily could see her panties lying on his desktop, reminding her of her nakedness.