The Secretary Needs a Spanking
As a solicitor with his own private practice, Mark Bradley had built up quite the reputation in the legal community for his cutthroat tactics in the court room and intensive discovery process, which went way beyond that of his competitors. It was with great respect but absolute reluctance that he let his usual secretary take time off for her maternity leave. Her absence would be felt enormously, but at that point he had no idea who would be filling her shoes. He interviewed a few candidates, but to his shame the only one who really stood out was a slightly ditzy but incredibly cute blonde by the name of Isabelle. She seemed eager to please and her glistening gaze and naughty smile were more than enough to make up for her lacking qualifications. It took him all but a few days to notice the error of his ways, as even though they had built up a flirty rapport in their short time together, he couldn’t deny that he had made a grave mistake. Whilst perusing some of the correspondence she had typed, he noticed a couple of glaring spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. So, he called her in and quietly explained that she needed to improve.
A couple of days later, he noticed some more mistakes and called her in again. A mere flutter of her eyelids and a wiggle of her cleavage in his face were all that she needed to alleviate the situation. Then it happened again and he decided something had to be done. His reputation was on the line and sending out such poor correspondence would inevitably reflect poorly upon him. So, once the final client of the day had left, he called her into his office for a word.
“Anything the matter?” she asked, almost oblivious to his frustrated tone.
“Yes, I’m afraid there is.” he replied, sternly tapping his finger onto the piece of paper lying on his desk before him. She could tell from his frown that he was not pleased. She tried to conjure her cute smile but he had developed an immunity to her charms. She stepped closer, moving around the side of the table to stand next to him. He felt the side of her ass pressing against his thigh, clearly an attempt to distract his attention with her incredible curves. She rubbed herself on him, making sure he could feel the warmth of her body seeping through their clothes. They may as well have been naked, and Mark could feel his basic instincts taking over despite his best efforts to ignore her.
“What do you see?” he asked, tapping the page again to draw her attention. She started to mumble the words on the page, only she didn’t stop at the mistake.
“Well?” he asked; his repressed rage building inside him. Surely she can’t be that dense, he thought.
“Oh, I see…” she said, grinning as if to toy with him, “I added an extra space…”
“What?” he replied, taking another look at the page. He realised that she had spotted yet another mistake; one to add to the pile. He was conflicted; one the one hand he needed to punish her, yet on the other hand he was intensely attracted to her. As she bent over the desk, he could clearly see her black bra beneath the translucent white cotton of her blouse and her ass was purposely wiggling behind her. A potent mixture of anger and sexual aggression was swelling inside him and he desperately wanted to let some of the pressure out. To make matters worse, she giggled playfully, like she didn’t realise how serious the situation was. Suddenly, he snapped and pulled his arm back, striking the palm of his hand down flat against her ass. A loud crack danced with the sound of her piercing squeal as they bounced off the walls. She jolted forward, hitting the side of the desk with her thighs and a thick fog of regret descended over Mark’s conscience. What have I done, he wondered. It could so easily have led to him getting into trouble, but it turned out to be a much more fortuitous turn of events than he first realised.
She remained deadly still and silent, bent over the desk like a schoolgirl awaiting the rest of her punishment. Mark looked down at her ass and saw that his fingers were still lingering around the bumps and ridges of the lacy French panties beneath her tight office skirt. He moved it away and took a long, deep breath as he considered what to do next. Isabelle finally turned to look at him, but her expression was not one of discomfort. She looked shocked with her mouth gaping wide open, but the corners of her lips were clearly curling up into a wry smile. He knew instantly that the line was still far away and that if he wanted to, he could punish her as much as he liked. “I counted five mistakes on this letter alone…” he said, moving his hand back to spank her again, “Two!”
He struck her a second time and then a third, counting up with each swipe of his palm as he pointed out each mistake in turn. She let out a series of excited moans, like she was getting some twisted thrill from being punished.
“Four! Five!” he growled, punctuating the sound of his voice with the thunderous crack of his hand slapping her cheeks. She took a breath and nodded.
“I’ll re-type this immediately.” she insisted, clutching the letter in her hand.
“Not so fast.” he replied, pulling out a small stack of equally flawed letters, “We still have these to go through.”
He took the first letter from the pile and set it down on the table in front of her. Then, he moved behind her and pushed himself up close, allowing her to feel the rigid swell of his penis pressing against her ass.
“Is that for me?” she asked, barely able to control her excitement.
“If you do as you’re told.” he said, moving his hand down to the side of her hip to release the zip of her skirt. He rolled it down the side of her thigh, allowing the material to loosen from her waist and fall to the floor around her feet. She remained bent over the desk with her saucy French panties and matching lace-trimmed stockings hugging her legs. It was one of the hottest things Mark had ever seen, and it was all his to play with. He pulled open the second drawer of his desk and took out a riding crop. It had been a gift from one of his former clients – the winning crop from an important derby, which was later contested in court. He had represented the winning jockey, who had charges of doping brought against him. As a prize for destroying his opponent’s case, the jockey had allowed Mark to keep the crop as a souvenir, but he never thought that he would actually get to use it.
Isabelle’s eyes bulged when she saw it, but her brief moment of apprehension was overwhelmed by her curiosity. A hand was one thing, but a crop could deliver much greater pain. Still, she wanted it nonetheless. He tapped the leather fold at the end of the crop over her ass, taunting her with it before abruptly swiping it clean across her cheeks. She bolted against the desk and let out a hair-raising shriek, crumpling the letter in her hand into oblivion. Her whole body shuddered as the white imprint of the crop faded to a red lash mark.
“Thank you, sir.” she replied, making Mark’s cock even harder beneath his trousers. He whipped her again, setting her cheeks wobbling chaotically for a moment before settling in their usual perky, round form, albeit with a rash of burning marks over them. He continued, striking her with it over and over again, each time eliciting a “thank you” from her lips as he moved the impact zone up and down over the back of her thighs. The urge to go further was too intense to resist and he found himself unzipping his trousers and poking his cock through his fly to jerk off as he watched her ass being punished. Her flesh was red raw with a light peppering of bruising forming amidst the fire, and the sound of her erotic whimpering was driving him wild with lust. He tossed the crop onto the desk and stood behind her, quickly gripping her panties in his fingers and peeling them down to her knees. She gave up no fight whatsoever; merely sticking her ass out even further to expose the glistening lips of her dripping wet pussy. She had never craved anything more than his cock in that moment and as she felt it splitting her labia apart and plunging inside her pussy, her agonised moaning became tinged with sensuality.
Their breath harmonised as he rammed his cock inside her from behind; the scent of her perfume and the warmth of her body spurring him on to fuck her harder. He continued to spank her ass as he pounded her, burying his entire shaft inside her as she screamed for more.
“Harder! Faster!” she begged as the table rocked beneath her body. Her breasts squashed against the wooden surface and almost burst free of her blouse. Before long, the two of them were in gasping fits of ecstasy as they rapidly approached a simultaneous climax. He spanked her again, but her ass had taken such a punishing that she could barely feel the impact. Her flesh was tingling almost as intensely as her clitoris as the ridges of his penis ground against the walls of her vagina. Finally, as she felt it expanding inside her, she tipped over the edge and started to cum. Spurt after spurt of his hot, milky cum shot out and painted the insides of her warm, moist pussy white while she groaned and scratched at the table in thrashing orgasmic spasms. She almost fainted with the unbearable pleasure and collapsed down onto the table in a mess of heaving flesh and limbs.
“Now you can re-type them…” he whispered, leaning in close to her ear as she lay on the desk; her knickers around her ankles and his hot cum oozing from her pussy. She felt so used, but the idea of serving him in every conceivable way just turned her on even more. She replaced her skirt and walked out to her desk to finish her work, unsure if it had really happened or if it was some marvellous hallucination. Mark suddenly felt even more conflicted than before. He wanted the letters typed properly, but he couldn’t help but wish that she continued to make mistakes, just so that he could punish her again and again.