Spanking Ms. Whitman (Play at Work) (6 page)

“Stay where you are.” He retrieved a deep blue glass bottle from the bar refrigerator, twisted the cap off and moved to her side. When he bent to offer her the drink, she experienced an insane urge to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. Then he wrapping her fingers around the icy bottle, and the sudden chill of the water against her sweaty palm broke the mood and saved her from making an utter fool of herself.

Taking a long swallow, she sighed in relief. “Thanks, so much.”

“You’re welcome.” With a pang, she watched him move back to his chair again. Curious how lonely she could be when he sat a few feet away.

“Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Sir.”

Puzzlement colored her words. “I’m sorry?” Then his frown clarified the issue in her mind. “Oh, yes, sir.” She began to believe there was more to tonight than a spanking, but while curiosity sparked, her cautious heart warned her to be careful, not to rush things.

“Fine, then here is what I will do to you this evening. Listen carefully, because I will need your agreement before we begin.” He paused and at her nod, continued. “I will ask you to remove your skirt, pull your panties down, and lie prone across my lap. While you are in this position, I will administer twenty slaps with the flat of my hand. You will count the smacks aloud.”

She nodded again, her breath coming in short pants.

“You must not try to block me or additional punishment will be added, that may include the use of a paddle.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a wooden instrument and she gasped.

He hid a smile, and forced a frown to his lips. “Look familiar? I have several.” Putting it back in the drawer, he rested his palms on the desktop. “I may send you to stand in the corner.”

She bobbed her head, so wide-eyed she found it difficult to blink.

“If you are in agreement, if you will accept this punishment, I need you to say so—out loud, please.

“Yes…yes, sir. I agree.”
So much, I may come where I sit. Hell yes, I agree.
Sensible thought reminded her if this little scene went wrong, he might not want her again, but she’d moved past caring. Years of fantasies and yearning won.

“Shall we begin?”

Chapter Seven

Brave words, but Mona’s knees knocked when she stood up from the world’s most uncomfortable chair and moved to stand by Mr. Marks. She faced the windows first, however, and presented him with her zipper.

“Would you help me with this, please, sir? It’s hard to reach.”

He rested one hand on the small of her back, holding the waistband in place, while he unzipped the skirt. When he let go, it fell to the floor and she kicked it away and spun to face him. “Thank you, sir.”

The skirt was the easy part, though. She’d had it off earlier, and survived. The next step assailed her and her momentary energy faded. Eyes downcast, she hooked her fingers under the elastic band of her oh-so-ordinary white cotton panties, gritted her teeth, and pulled them down. When they reached her knees, he stopped her.

“That’s far enough, for now.” He didn’t say more , but she knew what to do—the morning’s activities were burned in her brain. Awkward, with her underwear around her legs, she leaned across his lap, the wool slacks rough against her bare abdomen. He grasped her by the waist and lifted, moving her forward until her head hung down, the blood rushing to her brain—and her focus to her throbbing pussy. She couldn’t ever remember being so wet for any man, and this one only intended to spank her.

She’d take what she could get—and make the most of it.

“So, Miss Mona, once again we find ourselves in an interesting position.” He stroked her back in small, soothing circles, and the comfort of his gesture overwhelmed doubts, for the moment. She’d wanted his touch forever, and found it as delicious as she’d ever imagined, and more. “I don’t want to have to punish you, but it’s important you remember not to make the same mistakes over and over again.”

She splayed her fingers on the floor, using them to stay steady, keep from wobbling. “Yes, sir.”

“As we agreed, I will now give you twenty spanks. Are you ready to count them.”

“Y-yes.” She drew a deep breath and let it out, praying for the ability to speak, once the first—
Crack!
Searing pain rushed through her limbs and tears flooded her vision. She squeezed her eyes closed and choked out, “One.”

Mona clenched her ass cheeks but the second slap hurt much worse, like fire on her upper thigh.
I thought all the spanks were on the ass.
“Oh, two!”

“Good. Now we begin for real.”

“W-what? Those weren’t real?”

His hand rested with casual familiarity on her upper leg, so close to her aching pussy, if he’d move an inch higher...
.

“No. Practice.” He gave a brisk rub where he’d slapped her thigh. “And remember to breathe.”

Still tense, she ground her teeth against shrieking at the burn of the third spank, right where the first had landed, the sharp sound adding to the pain. She waited, but another did not fall. “Sir?”

“You forget quickly.”

Damn, damn, damn!
“I didn’t count.”

“We begin again.” The smack on the other cheek made her jump, but she said, “One.”

“Very good, Miss Mona.” He rubbed over the sting and the next spank landed on the first side again. “Two.”

Her breasts rubbed against his pants each time she bounced in reaction to the slaps on her fanny, and her nipples became so sensitive, she whimpered. Three, four five, all the way up to fifteen when a repeat smack on the side of her left cheek sent all sensible thought out of her head and her hands flew from their position on the floor to cover her backside. Her head dangled, the blood rushing to her brain.

Noooo….

His deep inhale pressed his abdomen against her side. Her heart threatened to beat its frantic way out of her chest. Mona waited.

After a moment, he clasped her around the waist and lifted her to her feet, tugging her to face him. “I thought you were going to make it.”

Her eyes flooded with tears. “I-I’m so sorry.” Her weak legs threatened to give way and she was grateful for his firm hold on her waist, under the hem of her blouse. As if he supported her with his warm palms on her cool skin. “Do we have to begin again?”

He twisted her so her back was toward him and released her. To her relief, her knees held firm. His steady voice with its note of compassion nearly undid her. “No, what did I say would happen if you covered your pretty fanny while I spanked you?”

Her mind rushed.
What did he say? My butt hurts, and…oh I upset him, he sounds so sad, so kind….

“Miss Mona?”

She swallowed. “Y-you said you would paddle me.”

“What else?” A quick smack across her backside and she jumped, the sting drawing a gasp from deep in her throat. “I also said, I might have you stand in the corner, did I not?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice soft, she could hardly hear it, but evidently he did.

Another sharp slap and she cried out.

“Go!” He gave her a little push on her lower back. She reached for her underwear but he covered her hand. “No, they are fine as they are, at your knees. I have a couple of phone calls to make while you think about things. Then we can discuss what other punishments you may have earned.”

Mona winced at the indignity of shuffling steps with her knees bound by the elastic and cotton of her panties. Reaching her destination, she stared at the angle formed by the meeting of the two walls. So hard to stand still, her ass burning.

Mr. Marks made his first call, discussing something about a stock trade. Her whirring brain didn’t make much sense of it, but she itched to rub away the sting and flexed her fingers, longing to touch it, try to soothe the pain. Soon, the torment became too much and she reached around her back , but at a curt, “Leave it!” and she dropped the offending limb back to her side.

As he said good-bye, she sighed in relief, only to gasp as she heard him begin another call.

Shame, and vulnerability soon overwhelmed the minor pain. She shifted her weight from side to side, trying not to make her moves noticeable. She wanted him to know how sorry she was, for being late, taking up so much of his time…being unable to handle a simple spanking, when it had been her fantasy! But facing the corner of the room, the blank walls, while her bare ass was exposed to the room, was worse.

Randolph continued the call, as much a test of his patience as hers. Half paying attention to his accountant, he watched her fidget, fingers twitching in agitation and impatience. He smiled, proud of his girl. She hadn’t once attempted to lean on the walls, and it had to be hard.

Her gasp when he began the second call had amused him. Outrage coupled with panties around the knees and a bare ass displaying a pattern of his reddened handprints. Very sexy kitten he attempted to correct. His eyes never left her, admiring her from the top of her shiny blonde locks to her trim ankles in their low pumps.

And everything in between.

He imprinted the image on his mind. Her white blouse ended just below her waist, its conservative line emphasizing the lewdness of her red and white ass. He covered the phone.

“Miss Mona, please clasp your forearms behind your back.”
Perfect.

The accountant rambled on about some forms he needed signed, blah, blah, blah. He would have to call him again tomorrow, anyway, and go over everything again when he could pay attention. The heat in his blood insisted that whether Mona had been in the corner long enough or not, he needed her back with him.
Now.
Having her out of his reach, no matter what a compelling picture she made, didn’t work for long.

“Come here.”
And hurry!
But he had to stay calm and in control. Or he’d have her over his desk while he drove his cock into her over and over until she screamed out his name and accepted she belonged to him.

But that wasn’t their agreement. Only his desire.

He held his peace as she moved toward him and stopped at his knees. Bending, he took hold of the elastic of her panties and drew them down. She braced herself on his shoulder for balance and lifted one foot, then the other out of the garment. He dropped them on the floor and pulled her to him, arms wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her abdomen. His gift to himself. She smelled of flowers and the musk of her arousal. A heady combination that hardened his dick further.

Instead of laying her across his lap, he sat her on it. She lay her face on his shoulder and sobbed.

“I’m sorry, so sorry. You must hate me. I’m such a bother.”

He stroked her hair and cradled her close. “Miss Mona, you’re anything but a bother.”

“No.” She leaned away from him. “I am a problem and I don’t know why you put up with me.” Her blue eyes glistened with moisture and he stroked his thumb over her trembling lower lip. She grasped his hand and pressed a soft kiss on the palm. “Thank you for helping me to remember not to make the same mistake again. I am well and truly sorry. I will be a model employee from now on.”

He believed her, and opened his mouth to say so when, to his amazement, a mischievous glint lit her eyes. “Of course if I make any
new
mistakes, you might have to take me in hand again.”

He chuckled and began to laugh. Miss Mona might be an ideal sub, might be willing to be
his
sub—once she understood what he wanted from her—but as usual, she delighted him. His reason for waking up in the morning with a smile. Her giggle joined his laughter and he hugged her close while they both let loose the tension that had held them all day, and after a while she lay against his chest, her hand tracing idle circles over his shirt buttons.

“Mr. Marks?”

“Hmm?” He relaxed in his seat, rubbing her back, enjoying the warm armful of his recalcitrant employee.

“Is it all right if I kiss you?”

His cock roared back into his awareness.

Chapter Seven

When he didn’t say anything, only held her captive with his gray gaze, Mona decided to call it permission. The always impeccably groomed Mr. Marks’ five o’clock shadow tingled against her palms and sent pleasurable chills up her arms.
Mmmm.
She focused on the full lips before her, as she had in many meetings where her inattention had caused her to miss important information she’d had to scramble to learn later.

She traced the dent in his upper lip with a fingertip, following the line of smooth skin inside the prickly hairs to the fuller lower lip, where she brushed back and forth, taking her time. She’d waited so long for their first kiss, longing without hope. The fulfillment of so many dreams. Even if there was nothing more between them than a professional relationship tomorrow—and she had no reason to believe there would be—she would immerse herself in the amazingness of today, and not be rushed.

She traced his lips and watched in awe as he parted them and drew her finger inside the warm cavern of his mouth. Every bit of sensation incredibly vivid. Stark. Erotic to the extreme.