Over The Boss' Knee Read online

  Tess paid for her salad and tea and she left the Cafe to hurry across the street, while wondering how she was going to keep her excitement from showing when she entered Mr. Carlson's office. Once she'd set her purse and Blackberry down at her desk, she walked to the closed door of his office and she knocked softly with butterflies doing a Bollywood dance inside her stomach.

  "In." The word was short and curt beyond the door. She instantly thought he sounded angry.

  When she entered his office, she could tell Mr. Carlson was angry. It was different than last time when he'd been more frustrated. His dark-blond hair had spikes clumped in it as though he'd been pulling the short strands and his glasses were off with his navy blue eyes looking intense. His suit jacket and tie were gone and his Armani gray-striped dress shirt was open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up his toned forearms.

  A silly feeling of foreboding stole over her and she glanced at the red folder of papers held so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were white. The Langston report. "Do you know how many typos and mistakes are in this proposal?" he demanded.

  She was startled at the accusation, and the cause, because while she did work on the details of that proposal, other people typed it. But suddenly understanding came over her, followed by a deliciously wicked feeling. This was like role play. Mr. Carlson wanted something to punish her for.

  "Oh, I’m so sorry, sir," she said, immediately playing along.

  "That is just not good enough," he responded with a stern voice, and then he slapped the folder on his desk, making her jump, while he turned and grabbed his high-backed desk chair. He tugged the chair to the side of his desk as she backed away hesitantly, while apologizing to him.

  "Come here," he demanded, then he didn’t wait for her. He strode forward, grabbed her wrist and he pulled her to the chair. It was then she saw the oval-shaped wooden paddle sitting beside five, one-hundred dollar bills. He'd said paddle, not spank.

  "Oh no!" She practically shrieked at the same moment he sat while using his superior strength to topple her onto his lap. Her belly hit his hard thighs and her heels went flying. Her shorter skirt completely lost any battle at modesty and she knew her garter belts, the lacy tops of her stockings, and the naked bottom curves of her ass had to be showing, while embarrassment turned her cheeks flaming red.

  "Damn," Mr. Carlson uttered, and by the tone of his voice she knew he was taken aback by seeing her undergarments and nude butt cheeks. Instinct had her reaching backward, trying to pull her skirt down, as shame crawled over her.

  "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I shouldn't have worn this ..."

  His voice interrupted her attempted apology. "It's perfect," he uttered.

  She wasn’t as certain about that, because she felt so exposed, as her apologies stalled. However, her pussy was certain about loving the entire thing. It was throbbing with deeper and more compelling aches.

  Mr. Carlson's hand clamped over her waist and the small of her back, then he shifted his thighs upward and suddenly her body tilted forward even more with her head falling closer to the carpet and her butt rising higher.

  "Oh!" she yelped as cool air washed over more of her buttocks, exposed with only a thong on.

  But before she became truly more embarrassed by this, Mr. Carlson said, "You're going to have to learn, Miss Brown."

  Slap! Slap! Tess couldn't even cry out she was so surprised at the stinging sensations smacking across her ass as she saw stars bursting behind her clenched eyelids. Then she sucked air inward from her silent scream. Slap! Slap!

  "Oh God," she cried, while the loud smacking sound of the wooden paddle hitting her naked ass filled her ears. Ouch!

  Slap! Slap! "You're such a bad, bad girl." Mr. Carlson's voice was thick with censure.

  "Oh! Ow!"

  Slap.

  "Owie!"

  Slap.

  "Oh! Oh!"

  Slap.

  "Ow, ow!"

  Slap.

  "Bad." Smack. "Bad." Smack. "Bad, girl!"

  Ohmygod, her butt hurt as the paddle spanked across each of her buttocks over and over making her wail with tears coming out of her eyes, while she kicked her legs and she tried to squirm away from the paddling. But Mr. Carlson's strength held her in place with her ass held high to receive each swat.

  "Are you going to do better?"

  Slap.

  "Yes, yes!" Tess wailed.

  Slap.

  "Are you certain?"

  Slap.

  "Yes! Yes! I'll be good, I swear," she cried. The spanking stopped and she lay panting with her ass stinging and burning, while tears trailed over her forehead from her head hung low. Her butt really hurt.

  "Next time, Miss Brown, if you are not a good girl you are going to let me tie you down over this chair and paddle your bottom."

  She was blank, trying to understand. "Ah, what?" she started to say.

  Suddenly, the paddle cracked across her buttocks. "Ow!" she wailed. "No! Please! No!"

  "I said you're going to let me tie you. Yes?"

  Slap. Slap.

  "Ow! Yes! Yes, sir, anything!" she cried, writhing her bottom beneath the spanking paddle.

  "For four hundred dollars," Mr. Carlson declared sharply.

  Slap. Slap.

  "Yes! Yes!" She might have agreed too just about anything.

  Slap. Slap.

  "Naughty girls need to learn," Mr. Carlson said.

  "I will, sir! Please, please don't spank me anymore," she begged.

  Slap. Slap.

  Then out of nowhere the paddling stopped and Mr. Carlson moved his legs just enough so that she slid onto the floor. She barely caught the fall on her hands and knees. She couldn't believe she could feel more humiliated, kneeling at Mr. Carlson's feet with her skirt hiked up and her bare ass cheeks showing.

  "I expect better work, Miss Brown," he said sternly. Then he stepped over her and she saw his Italian loafers head toward the door. "I won't be back until tomorrow. Rearrange my schedule."

  Shame itched over every inch of her as she saw the office door open and close. She couldn't believe the entire position she was in. It was-It was ...

  "Slavish." She sniffled. "Objectified,” she whined.

  But oh God, her pussy was so hot. The heated aches quivered down her thighs as she knelt on the floor of Mr. Carlson's office on her hands and knees. Her skirt was hiked up so far she might as well not have it on. Each of her buttocks stung.

  And she was so bad, she dug her hand into her panties right there. Her knees inched wider on the carpet as she moaned. She should get up — but she was too horny.

  "Oh yeah. Oh yeah." She rubbed her clit with her ass undulating. She was such a bad, bad girl.

  Chapter Three

  Three days later, Mr. Carlson text her on Saturday afternoon completely surprising her because it was the weekend. Of course they had worked weekends before, but never like this, without notice. Just seeing the text was from her boss sent a thrill rushing through her. She hadn’t been able to get the last office spanking off her mind. It had been so over-the-top hot! But what riveted her attention even more was Mr. Carlson saying he was going to tie her up next time.

  "Oh god, he'd spanked me until I agreed," Tess murmured, biting nervously at her bottom lip as she stared at her Blackberry. She'd been lounging in her apartment thinking about going shopping later with the five hundred dollars she'd earned. There was a new Michael Kors dress in Saks display window begging her to try it on every time she walked past. And now she could afford it.

  She stared at her Blackberry not answering it yet, because she knew if she even looked at the message she would be committed to follow through.

  "It could be real work," she muttered.

  Yet somehow she knew it wasn't. Being tied up would involve a lot of trust. Tess squirmed on her couch, knowing she was already so aroused just thinking about it that her vibrator was calling 9-1-1 from her bedroom. Then she pressed receive on her phone.

  "The last tw
o memos you transcribed for me were riddled with mistakes. I expect you to honor your word. My office. One hour. Wear the appropriate attire."

  Tess released the breath she’d held as her entire body quivered. She wasn’t certain she could keep her aroused state from Mr. Carlson this time. "I might cream my panties before this is over." She sat straighter to text her boss back.

  "Yes, sir. I am very sorry. I will be there in one hour."

  She nearly backed out several times before she arrived at the darken office wearing a Juicy Couture blue silk, mini-dress with copper-colored stilettos. Underneath she wore a red lace demi-bra and thong. The tiny thong was set under a leopard-print hip-hugger garter belt, holding up lace-topped, black stockings. She set her purse and Blackberry on her desk, before she slowly approached Mr. Carlson’s closed office door. Was she really going to do this?

  She nervously smoothed down the silk of her dress. It was so short! Whatever possessed her to wear such ... well, frankly, slutty clothes? She did trust Mr. Carlson, but to be tied up, and then spanked was so over-the-top naughty ... it had her pussy throbbing like the rowdy beat in a popular nightclub.

  She started to turn away from the door but she wasn’t used to wearing five-inch stilettos and she began to lose her balance, which knocked her hand into the door, as she caught herself. Oh no! That sounded like a loud knock on the door.

  "Enter."

  Mr. Carlson obviously heard it! Now she had to go in. But before she’d gotten brave enough to put her hand on the door handle, the polished cherry wood door opened before her widening eyes.

  "There you are," Mr. Carlson snapped, and he looked militant. "You are late," he stated with a severe tone.

  "I'm sorry ..." she began with a sheepish voice. However, Mr. Carlson just ignored her words and he grabbed her wrist to tug her, tottering on her high heels, into his office.

  "I'll just deduct one hundred dollars for being late, so you will do this for three hundred dollars," he said, pulling her over to his high-backed chair in front of his desk.

  Three hundred? Tess felt bereaved at the loss of money on top of being hyper-anxious.

  "Isn't that correct?" he demanded, stopping by the chair, where she saw a thick black rope hung over the high back.

  Her eyes widened, as she mumbled, "Y-Yes, sir."

  "And," he continued, jerking her wrist as he looked her body up and down. "You look like a slut dress like that."

  Tess felt embarrassment flushing her cheeks, while her chest got tight with humiliation, at the same time her pussy throbbed harder with arousal. How could she feel more aroused by feeling so lowly?

  "I-I," she stuttered.

  "I can see the tops of your stockings that dress is so short," Mr. Carlson accused. "Get up on that chair now!" he ordered, before she could speak.

  Then she was kneeling on the chair. For balance, her hands grabbed the back. "I'm sorry," she whined.

  "That’s not good enough," he barked right back at her, startling her. "I will take another one-hundred dollars off for those clothes, which Miss Brown, make you into a slut."

  "But ..." she started too exclaimed. That left only two-hundred dollars.

  "Quiet!" he snapped, and she gulped her mouth closed. "Now bend over," he ordered.

  Tess wasn't sure she would have bent over the back of the chair, because she knew her dress was so short the minute she did her bottom would be bared with only a small red strip in the crease and covering her pussy from view. Somehow she'd thought "tied up" meant her wrists behind her back or something, not tied over a chair, besides the fact she was staring straight at a long black riding crop laying on top of Mr. Carlson's desk. It had a square flap on the end of it, and she just knew it was going to sting worse than his hand or the paddle he'd used before.

  "You're not going to whip me with that are you?" she asked with an exclamation, at the same time he was tugging one of her wrists over the back of the chair, making her body bend to follow.

  "I won't unless you give me your permission," he said, while winding the thick rope over her wrist.

  She was so relieved that she barely noticed him grasping her other wrist and tying it. "Well I don't!" she cried. "I'm never giving permission for that wicked looking whip."

  When she exclaimed, she tried to raise her hands, and then she realized both her wrists were tied tightly to the bottom of the chair. She couldn't move them, even an inch. She tugged on the bonds, while feeling cooler air wash over her exposed buttocks. She tried to raise her head to look up at Mr. Carlson, but she couldn’t lift it any further than his waist as he stood in front of her.

  She had a glaring look at the front of his pants and the hard ridge he was sporting under the expensive fabric. Mr. Carlson's hard cock made her quite alarmed, in the helpless position she was in, and she knew he had to be looking straight down her exposed cleavage, bent over as she was. Her pussy ached so deeply that she squeezed her inner thighs together, massaging her off-the-charts arousal. She barely held back her moan.

  "This outfit, Miss Brown, is what a very bad girl wears."

  Tess' bottom lip trembled as Mr. Carlson slowly moved around her. He had to be looking over every inch of her, and his breath sucked inwardly when he walked behind her. Heat rode up her entire body with embarrassment and it made her bottom squirm.

  "Hell, you are so naughty," his voice expelled. Her wrists tugged at the restraints, needing release, but she was bound firmly in place. "You're begging for a spanking wiggling your bare ass at me, aren't you?" he asked with uttered disapproval.

  "No!" she exclaimed. "It's just ... You just ... You can see," she sputtered, looking down at the carpet, in absolute mortification, past her bound wrists.

  "I can see what a naughty, naughty girl you are and how much you need discipline," he declared.

  "Please don't spank me hard," she pleaded, unable to hold her begging back.

  "You won't learn with a weak spanking, will you?" he asked, without any shreds of sympathy, making her ass tremble with anticipation.

  Then the first smack struck her buttocks and she yelped with surprise as much as feeling the sting of his palm. Smack. Smack..

  "Oh! Oh!" she cried.

  She swung her bottom back and forth, trying to avoid Mr. Carlson's spanking hand. Smack. Smack. But each way she swayed her ass, he still managed to swat his hand against her flinching buttocks. Smack. Smack.

  "Oh! Ow! Oh! Ow!" Tess tugged hard against the ropes holding her hands with the need to try to cover her abused bottom. Smack. Smack.

  "Bad." Smack.

  "Bad." Smack.

  "Slutty girl!" Smack. Smack.

  "Naughty, bad girl!" Smack. Smack!

  "Ow! Oww! I’ll be a good girl. Please, please I promise to be good!" she cried.

  She jerked hard against the ropes holding her wrists with tears in her eyes as she gasped, while looking back. She could twist just enough to see Mr. Carlson bent slightly over with his hand whipping forward, then repeating as it slapped against her helpless ass.

  Smack. Smack!

  It burned and stung so bad — he was really spanking deep, until his slapping fingers nearly hit her pussy. Each smack raised her butt upward with stinging recoils that in turn squeezed her inner thighs tightly together ... then released them ... then drew her thighs tight again.

  Smack. Smack.

  "Ow! Oww!" she bawled, but the contrast between the biting spank and tightening on her clit with surging arousal was making her pant.

  Oh God, she wanted to rub her pussy so bad.

  She almost begged Mr. Carlson to do it ... then she blanched at what she'd nearly done. At the same moment, she was practically making herself come with the inward clenching and unclenching of her thighs.

  Suddenly, the spanking stopped and she was left panting with her exposed ass cheeks burning and her pussy throbbing so hard she was on the edge of a climax.

  God, if he'd just spank her a little more she'd come!

  "I will give you one-hund
red dollars extra if you let me whip your naked ass five times with the riding crop."

  "Yes!" she cried, she needed to come so badly she could barely think of anything else. But her bound wrists kept her from rubbing her slick needy pussy.

  Mr. Carlson made a surprised sound and she saw the crop lifting off his desk, then she realized what she had agreed to. But it was too late!

  Swat! Swat!

  She screeched, falling forward over the back of the chair, trying to escape the sting from the lashing whip. Her knees churned on the back of the chair, but she couldn’t crawl up it.

  Swat! Swat!

  She yelped, bawled, and screamed at once, but then the hot throbbing desire in her clit tightened and tightened more ... it squeezed.

  Swat! Swat! "Oh! Ow, ow! Mmm. Ow, mmm!" she groaned, coming so hard it shuddered into her thighs.

  "Bad! Bad! Bad girl!" Mr. Carlson groaned and he swatted her ass five more times with the cropped, while she alternately screeched and moaned.

  Then she must have lost track of time, because her wrists were untied and she hung over the back of the chair on her belly, when she heard,

  "And there is an extra one-hundred on my desk for those added five whips, Miss Brown."

  Tess looked up to see Mr. Carlson rushing out of the office with the door swinging shut decisively behind him. He was in such a hurry, she just knew he was speeding home to his wife with his hard erection, while her eyes turned to look at the one-hundred dollar bills spread over his desk. Her ass had never hurt more, but she was ready to come again, and she dug her fingers into her thong stroking her sopping pussy.

  "Oh, mm mm."

  She bucked on the chair, spreading her knees and rubbing her clit harder. The motion made the chair swivel back and forth as she rubbed hard circles on her clit. The juices from her first climax were messy around her sex, and her thong was so tight it was hard to keep her hand inside to work her pussy. She grabbed the edges of her thong pulling hard, until she got the tight silk down over her butt. Now her pussy lips were free to plunge her fingers into as she balanced over the back of the chair.

  "Oh yeah, yeah. Oh, oh. God," she groaned. Her climax was rising hot and heavy. She wanted something inside her so bad. A big hot cock mesmerized her thoughts as she tried to get her fingers inside her. She just barely got them inserted ... wiggling on them.