Page 15 of Her Boss

Her hand shot out, grasping my arm, but it wasn’t to push me away. Rather, it was a frantic bid for comfort, for reassurance, that I wouldn’t abuse the power I had over her in that moment.

“It’s okay. Just relax. Let it take you under.” I smoothed a palm over her head. “I want you to accept all of it. I’ll be here at the end. You’ll see, beautiful.”

With that, I began her spanking. I believed that all spankings, to be the most effective, needed to start quite firmly, and not relent from that until the very end. There was no warming up her bottom, there was no easing her into things. If this had a possibility of going anywhere, then she had to know, in no uncertain terms, that I was that type of man who would hold her to account. The sort of man who would discipline her with the strictness, the consistency, and the determination that she truly needed—even if she didn’t quite know it yet.

I started with great slaps all across both her buttocks, judging by only the color of her flesh rather than her mewls, cries, and pained outbursts whether or not she’d received a sufficient dose. It wasn’t until the whole of her pretty bottom glowed a solid pink that I concentrated on the lower third of her buttocks, giving them harsh, steadily applied smacks, like pistol shots, that had her crying out at each one within minutes.

“Be still. Obey,” I admonished softly, pressing upon the small of her back, pinning her down completely as I laid another great smack across the lower curve of her right cheek. I concentrated there, slapping harder and harder, her bottom wobbling and bouncing with ever more abandon as her discipline went on.

At one point, she tried to slide sideways upon the desk, my hand slapping her upper thighs in quick, alternating succession. I took a handful of bottom cheek, squeezing it fiercely hard. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I… it hurts! I’ve… had enough… I won’t do it again.”

“Oh, I know you won’t.” I laid down another whistling slap, catching her bottom under both cheeks, sending them bounding upward, the blow rippling through her soft, crimson flesh, her cry a piercing note signaling that the pain had begun to do its work upon her willfulness.

“Felt that one, bad girl?”

“Ah! Yes… ah, it’s so… hot! Stings!”

“Then it’s working like it’s supposed to.” I gave her two quick ones, right on top of each along the outside of her left hip.

She bit off a scream at that.

“Surrender, girl. Give in. Let go of this silly willfulness.” I spanked her hard and fast the whole time as I spoke the words. Pulling up each buttock in turn, I laid down particularly harsh spanks upon the tender crease between bottom and thigh.

At the second one, she cried out, her voice breaking, then she burst into tears.

Her body sagged then, her head lolling upon her arms as she sobbed, tears pooling upon the worn, battered wood of the desktop. I gave her a few more spanks, searching for any further tiny sections of unreddened flesh. Then I held her there, my big hand spanning the breadth of her entire ass, just holding her there, protectively, my touch proprietorial. “It’s all done, Geneva. All done, sweet girl.”

Shocking me, she burst up from the desk, but rather than run from me, she wrapped her arms about me, the pitiful tears flooding down her red, blotchy face in twin streams, her crimson lips open, trembling, locks of her hair stuck to her wet forehead and cheek.

I bundled her into my arms, lifting her from the floor, and when I did, she cried even harder. She sobbed in my embrace like that for long minutes, and I remained silent, the tableau moving to me in a way I couldn’t quite explain, and with the instinctive knowledge that there was nothing to be said, that her flood of emotion was profound far beyond the pitiful reach of any mere words.

Instead, I simply rocked her, stroking her heated, sodden hair, kissing the crown of her head now and then. She burrowed even closer to me each time, until her head was wedged under my right jaw, her body curled up against mine, utterly vulnerable, utterly beautiful.

I didn’t want that moment to ever end.

Then, as quickly as it happened, she seemed to snap back to herself, her head raising from my chest, her bloodshot, bleary gaze upon me. “I… I don’t know why I did that. I’m… sorry, Rick. I mean… sir.”

“It’s all right,” I said, my voice thick. I cleared my throat, speaking the words in a gentle tone. “It’s all over, girl. All’s forgiven.”

Her smile at me, her breathtakingly beautiful tears still staining her cheeks, was a sight that I knew in that moment I’d never, ever forget.

“Yes, sir.”

But before I completely lost my head, the temptation to kiss the silly woman suddenly so strong it took Herculean will to resist it, I gently dropped her to her feet.

Geneva’s panties were still tangled around her shoes, the open-toed sandals a playful and pretty counterpart to the sultry skirt, highlighting her slim, toned legs. She moved to pull them up, but I stopped her with a hand under her chin.

“No, you leave them there. Those stay with me today.”

“B-but… I have to work… don’t I?” A deep crease formed between her gorgeous dark brows, her lips formed into an O.

“You do—and I expect you to try your best to learn the ropes as soon as possible, too.” I crouched down, helping her extract one foot, then the other from the tangle of lace.

I rose, holding up the thong and bundling it into a ball before stuffing it unhurriedly into my breast pocket, as if it were some sort of lurid handkerchief. The scent of her was strong on the fabric, and it made my mouth water. “Put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

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