“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Uh, is it spelled with an ‘e’ or an ‘i’?”
“E,” he said. “Can we continue now?”
“Of course. Sorry.”
He went on and her hand scribbled in response. He threw out terms that she’d only vaguely heard of, such as “lathe dog,” “direct metal deposition” and “collette.” She didn’t know what they were, and she didn’t dare interrupt him again. She vowed to look them up as soon as she could.
When she was dismissed, she had four pages of notes that he wanted collapsed into a two-page letter. She sat at her computer and despaired getting it right. Why was he so short with her? Hadn’t she done everything he had asked?
She remembered Julie’s advise to flirt with him a little. He didn’t seem to be the type that responded to flirting. Did he have a wife, kids? She doubted it. And if he didn’t, what did he do at night? Watch videos of women being spanked?
She giggled suddenly. She bet he did!
Emily typed up the letter, checking it carefully for typos and other mistakes. Just to make sure, she checked it again before she knocked on his door.
“Come in.”
“Here’s that letter you asked for, Mr. Caudry,” she said, trying to sound friendly. Maybe not flirting-friendly, but friendly nonetheless.
He nodded and took it. She turned to go.
“Miss Robinson.”
She froze. Turning slowly, she saw him holding up the letter, his head shaking sadly from side to side. “Do you know what a collet is?”
“Uh, no.”
“It’s a type of chuck that’s used to hold work in a lathe,” he said. “And it’s spelled, C-O-L-L-E-T, without the extra T-E you’ve added here.”
Emily tried to ignore the roaring in her head. “Uh, well, that’s a common mistake, I’m sure. I’ll just fix it right away and—”
“No, I’m afraid that’s not good enough. I’m sorry, Ms. Robinson, but I can’t have a secretary that doesn’t know the spellings of the very tools we sell.”
“But it’s a very simple fix, Mr. Cau—”
“Like I said, I demand perfection. And since you don’t want to be subjected to any punishments, you leave me no choice.” He picked up the phone and punched an extension. “Mrs. Dowd? Caudry here. I’m sorry, but I don’t think Miss Robinson—”
“Wait!” The thrumming in her body was louder now.
Caudry’s eyes locked onto hers. “Yes?” He put his hand over the phone.
“Okay! I’ll accept your punishments! Just don’t fire me, please!”
“Very well.” Into the phone, he said, “Sorry, Mrs. Dowd, but I think maybe I can work this out on my own. I’ll let you know if I have any further trouble.”
He hung up. “Assume the position.”
Meekly, Emily went to his desk and propped herself up on her elbows. The letter was in position and she could see where he’d circled “collette.” It was such a simple mistake! Anyone could’ve made it. And then, in that moment, she knew. Everything became clear. It had nothing to do with her mistakes and everything to do with her submission to his will. Emily realized something very important. If she could endure his little fetish, she might go far in this company, maybe even get a raise. Consider this a form of flirting, she told herself.
And that darker part of herself seemed to sigh in satisfaction. Emily felt her pussy begin to throb in anticipation.
Mr. Caudry went behind her and she braced herself for her punishment. The radio went on and lively jazz music filled the room.
“Let’s see, we’re up to four swats per mistake, aren’t we?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
Suddenly, he flipped her skirt up, exposing her pantyhose to him.
“Mr. Caudry!” She jumped up and turned around, pushing her skirt back down with both hands. Her stomach felt funny and her pussy grew wet.
“This is part of the progression, my dear. If you have not learned to produce flawless work after three strokes per mistake, then simple swats alone are clearly insufficient.”
“But I’m ... You can’t...”
Mr. Caudry just waited until she stopped sputtering.
“It’s entirely up to you, Mr. Robinson. But you try my patience. If you refuse to learn my way, I have no use for you.”
Emily knew she should quit right then and there. Sure, she’d probably lose her apartment and have bill collectors hound her, but wouldn’t that be better than what was happening to her? But that dark and naughty part of her whispered that truth into her head that she could not deny: This little game is making you wet.
She stared at him for a long moment before she turned around and got back into position. She said nothing when he raised her skirt—her mind was focused on her throbbing clit and weeping pussy and couldn’t wait for this to be over so she could go into the ladies room and masturbate.
Whack! Whack! Both blows struck her left cheek and she jumped at the sharpness of the paint. He was hitting her directly on her pantyhose, which offered little protection. Emily wiggled her bottom and could imagine how that must look to him.
“Settle down, Miss Robinson.”
Biting her lip, she steadied herself. Whack! Whack! She gasped as her right cheek now exploded into pain and her bottom again jerked around in an effort to cool off. And there was more. As she jerked, her pussy came into contact with the edge of his desk and she nearly came right then and there. She pulled away and lay panting, wondering why her body was betraying her this way.
She felt her skirt being flipped back into place and she stood, her knees shaking.
“Thank me,” he said. It wasn’t a request.
“Th-thank you, Mr. Caudry.” She gathered up the letter and left.
There was no way she could sit down, not right now. Emily glanced over into the bullpen, certain they had heard the sharp crack of the ruler against her pantyhose. Just as before, no one paid the slightest attention to her. Grabbing her purse, she went to the bathroom. She didn’t bother looking at her bottom, she could only yank her pantyhose down to her thighs and rub herself to sudden and intense orgasm, one that made her knees buckle and she had to brace herself against the wall. When she calmed down, she did it again.
She’d never had orgasms this strong before, not even with Adam.
This was becoming a very strange routine by now, she realized. Get spanked and rubbing herself to one or two quick orgasms almost immediately. This was the first time she had ever done something so naughty in the workplace. What’s next, she chided herself, making photocopies of her ass?
Before she pulled up her pantyhose, she glanced around behind her to see the four red marks. They seemed darker, angrier than before. She rubbed her sore flesh and shook her head. What had she gotten herself into? And why was it so hard to stop it?
Did she really want it to stop?
Standing over the sink, Emily took a damp paper towel and patted her face to cool down, staring at herself in the mirror. She saw an attractive girl staring back, with a flush to her face and her pupils slightly dilated as if she had just taken a drug. Those hormones are powerful things, she mused. This situation seemed so strange, she could hardly believe it was happening to her. And yet, here she was, falling under the spell of her stern boss.
No, wait, she decided. I’m really falling under the spell of my own desires. Why do I like it—it’s so completely wrong! No, she thought, shaking her head. It’s not so much like as it is need. What did that make her?
She returned to her desk and sat down gingerly, wincing when her sore bottom made contact. She pulled up the letter and made the corrections. When it came out of the printer, she brought the letter and envelope in to Mr. Caudry and waited nervously for him to approve them. He nodded curtly and gave her that same thin smile that she knew represented great joy to the taciturn man. Pleased, she started to leave, when he spoke, his words cutting through her soul like an icicle.