Disciplining Portia Again

"Portia," I shouted, "get your ass in here!"

I'd been having trouble with my office temp. In the past, she'd been chronically late, had difficulty following instructions and rarely met deadlines. Her attempts to overcome these deficiencies with low cut blouses and mini-skirts probably explained why she was still temping. I had considered letting her go, but fortunately I'd discovered that what Portia really needed was discipline. All it took was a firm hand, and she'd started to shape up.

Portia dashed into my cramped office with respectable haste, carrying a notepad. Her cornrow braids kept her hair back from her pretty face, which was presently demurely downcast. I caught a hint of her warm brown eyes glancing at my face and twitch of a smile, carefully hidden, on her full, dark lips. Her white blouse made a lovely contrast with her cocoa colored skin and, while low cut enough to show off her lovely cleavage, it was no longer disreputably so. Her skirt was likewise improved, still short but no longer slutty. I had been very clear last time that she would dress in a presentable manner, and Portia was clearly making an effort. I wondered if she had abided by all the conditions of her new dress code. I intended to find out.

"Portia," I said firmly, rising from my desk and walking over to her, "I've been reviewing the reports for the new client."

"Yes, Mr. Manchester," she said hesitantly.

"I believe I was very clear about the formatting the client requested," I said.

"Yes Mr. Manchester," she was worried now.

"And did you format them precisely as I asked?" I said firmly, moving behind her.

"Umm... I thought I did Mr. Manchester," she answered softly.

"Portia," I sighed, stepping close behind her. Our bodies were almost touching. I could feel the heat rising from her skin and smell her soap. This close, I could feel the tension in my body, and I made no effort to resist my growing erection.

"Portia," I repeated, all but whispering in her ear, "I can see you're still having trouble following directions. You were doing so well but I can't be lax. You need discipline, my dear."

"Yes, Mr. Manchester," she sighed breathlessly.

"You need a firm hand," I breathed.

"Yes." Portia leaned back slightly, our bodies just touching. "I need a firm hand."

"Lean over the desk," I commanded, "and don't move."

Portia didn't hesitate. She lay over my desk, her ass in the air, her long brown legs slightly spread. Her new skirt was just long enough that I couldn't actually see her ass yet. That didn't last.

Stepping up to her, I reached out and took hold of the edge of her skirt. I knew Portia was expecting me to flip her skirt up, like I had last time. I didn't. Instead, I quickly unzipped it and pushed it down over her hips, letting it slide down to pool around her ankles. Portia gasped but didn't move.

I was pleased to discover she had followed my new dress code. There were no panties under the skirt, not even her usual thong. Her round, dark ass was completely bare and her firm thighs framed her already swollen pussy lips. I lightly ran my hand down the curve of her ass, realizing this was the first time I'd actually seen Portia's pussy. Last time, I hadn't bothered with it. I resolved to correct that today, but first things first.

A loud crack filled the office as my first blow sent a lovely jiggle across Portia's backside. She whimpered a little, but held still. I caressed her ass lightly and then landed another blow on the opposite cheek. She let out a little cry.

Going from cheek to cheek, I spanked her steadily. I started out lightly, alternating each blow with a soothing caress. Portia relaxed into the rhythm of it, her little whimpers fading into soft sighs as the blow became a caress. Her breathing quickened and her legs spread a little wider. Her whimpers slowly changed into moans.

Without warning, my next blow was harder. I had been holding back, but I had meant what I said. Portia needed a firm hand. Now, I gave her one. My office temp gave a little shriek as I laid a stinging blow against her ass. Before she could do more I landed a second, even harder, blow on her opposite cheek. Portia gave a gasping cry, but didn't move.

I let myself go. Strength and desire welled up inside me and poured out, through my arm into Portia's willing body. With each blow, Portia let out a soft cry, but she never moved. Finally, panting as heavily as she was, I stopped.

Portia whimpered, lifting her ass slightly as if seeking the next blow. I brought my hand down lightly, brushing softly against her warm skin. My fingers traveled along the curve of her ass, down to her thighs and lightly across her pussy. Portia moaned, quivering and pushing gently against my caressing fingers. She felt warm and wet. My fingers slid into her and she groaned.

"A firm hand," I said huskily, pushing my fingers deep inside her.

"Yes," Portia sighed.

Slowly, I withdrew my fingers, teasingly grazing her clit. Portia moaned.

Without pause, I unbuttoned my slacks. Portia gasped as she heard the charged sound of my zipper and the soft thud of my belt hitting the floor. With one hand, I took a firm grip on her hip while the other hand guided my firm shaft against her wet opening.

"Yes," Portia sighed again.

With a grunt, I pushed inside her, burying my full length in her with a single hard thrust. Portia moaned, her body quivering. Holding her hips, I thrust roughly into her. I spanked her again, my hand falling against her ass as my dick slammed into her. Portia cried out with each thrust, her ass shaking with each blow. With a shuddering groan, she came. Her body tensed under mine, setting off my own orgasm as I unloaded a heavy load of semen deep in her pussy.

Finally, with a groan, I pulled out of her and stood, swaying, behind her. I watched as a slow trail of sticky white semen oozed down her warm brown thigh. Still, Portia lay still on the desk. Except for her quivering hips while we fucked, she had remained still as I had instructed. I smiled.

"Portia," I said after a time.

"Yes," she sighed.

"You've done well." I reached down to pull up my slacks.