Disciplining Portia

"Damn it," I cursed to myself, "where the hell is December?"

Sitting in my cramped office, I checked through my email folders looking in vain for the wretched December reports which I was supposed to give the client that afternoon. I had, apparently foolishly, entrusted the reports to my new office temp. Now, not only could I not find the reports, I couldn't find my temp either. Of course, I thought bitterly, she was only two hours late, which was about normal for her on a Monday morning. I was starting to think she wasn't going to work out.

"Bloody hell, fucking, shit, god damn it!" I cursed again, wondering how many times I was going to check the same folders before I gave up.

The sound of a door closing drew my attention from my fruitless search. Leaning forward, I could just see out of my door into the reception area of my tiny office.

Portia, my temp, had just arrived and was leaning over to turn on her computer. So, my first sight of her today was of her long, cocoa colored legs, accentuated by her high heels. Her mini-skirt, under which she was plainly wearing either a thong or nothing, had risen up and I could clearly see the sweet curves of her ass. Unfortunately for Portia, the peek which usually led me to forgive her tardiness wasn't enough to make me forget about the damn reports.

"Portia," I barked, "could you come in here please?"

Portia jumped a little. With a hasty show of straightening her skirt and grabbing a notepad from her desk, she swayed into my office. I gave her an unashamedly appraising look as she did.

Portia was a pretty young woman with smooth dark skin that seemed to glow warmly. Cornrow braids pulled her hair back from a round face with big, brown eyes and full dark lips. In addition to short skirts, she habitually wore low cut blouses which showed off her full breasts wonderfully.

I felt a little lust mingling with my anger. It was a heady combination and I felt oddly blurred. Probably a result of all the blood rushing downward. I took a deep breath and tried to sound calm.

"Portia," I said, "I'm having trouble finding the December reports you sent me. Can you remember exactly when you finished those?"

Portia looked suddenly flustered. "Which reports where those, Mr. Manchester?"

Having only had my own business for a few months, I rather liked when Portia called me Mr. Manchester. It was usually flattering. Today, it just annoyed me.

"The December reports that I asked you to do two weeks ago," I said, trying not to growl. "The ones I need to present to the clients this afternoon. The ones you assured me you would have finished and emailed to me in time. Where are they?"

"Ooooh." Portia looked suddenly appalled. "Oh, I... I didn't... I mean..."

I just waited, fixing her with a stern look and refusing to give her any way out.

"I..." Portia's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I haven't finished them yet."

"Email me what you've done do far," I said coldly, "and then clean out your desk."

"My... my desk?" Portia stammered.

"Yes," I growled, "you can go."

Portia gasped. Holding her notepad tightly, a gesture which not incidentally pushed her full breasts up against her straining top, she walked closer to me. She looked vulnerable and alluring and slightly slutty all at once. I'd seen it done better, but not recently.

"Please, Mr. Manchester," Portia said quietly, "I really need this job. Isn't there... anything... I can do?"

I'll give Portia her props. The vulnerable but come-hither look, the little hesitation, she had the act down. Sadly, my sultry little temp had no idea who she was dealing with.

I looked into her big, brown, calculating eyes and smiled. My office was small and, standing as close as she was, we were practically touching. I took a half step to the side, sliding past her. As I did, I rested my hand casually on her hip. Portia smiled a knowing little smile, watching me as I stepped over the office door and pushed it close.

"I suppose there is... something you can do," I said.

"What's that?" my temp purred, arching her back to push her large breasts forward.

"Turn around," I said coolly, "face the desk."

Portia pivoted slowly. Then she leaned forward, bracing her hands on my desktop and thrusting her ass into the air. Again her little mini-skirt rode up, revealing to me, for the second time today, the round curves of her ass.

"Like this?" Portia said, looking at me over her shoulder.

Saying nothing, I crossed the little space to stand behind her. Reaching over, I slid my hand over the warm, brown skin of her backside. Caressing, I pushed her skirt up over her hips. She was wearing a tiny black thong, I noticed, little more than a string across her hips and between her round butt cheeks.

"Mmmmm," Portia sighed and wiggled her ass against my hand. "I like that."

I grinned. Suddenly, I whipped my hand out and back, smacking her ass hard. Portia squealed and jumped. Her head whipped around, eyes wide.

"If you want to stay here," I snarled before she could speak, "you are going to learn some discipline."

I spanked her again, hard, watching her dark skin jiggle. I paused a moment, caressing her warm ass. Then I smacked her other butt-cheek.

"You will be on time." Smack.

"You will be presentable." Smack.

"You will follow instructions." Smack.

"You will meet deadlines." Smack.

I paused again, once more softly caressing her ass.

"Do you understand?" I asked.

Portia said nothing. She had leaned farther forward, her head the desk, her ass thrust out high.

I spanked her again. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Portia answered, her voice husky. "Yes, I need discipline."

I started raining blows on her ass again, alternating sides as I spanked her.

"I'll be on time," she gasped between blows. "I'll be presentable. I'll meet deadlines. I'll do anything you say. I'll do anything you say! I'll do anything you say!!!"

I stopped. My hand stung and I imagined Portia's ass felt the same. Once more, I gently caressed her and she moaned. I slid my fingers down the curve of her ass, between her legs until I found her thong's once-significant patch of fabric. It was soaked. My fingers eased under the thong to touch her wet, swollen pussy.

"Yessss," Portia groaned.

"No," I replied, teasingly brushing my fingers through her wet folds. "No. Get down on your knees."

Portia whimpered but obeyed. She slid loosely from the desk to kneel in front of me. I quickly unzipped my slacks and pulled out my hard dick. Portia didn't miss a beat. She leaned forward and engulfed my shaft in her full lips.

It was my turn to groan. Portia's mouth was warm and wet on my dick. She was definitely a talented cock-sucker. She kept her full lips over her teeth, sliding her mouth up and down my shaft as if she was fucking it. She moaned, the sounds vibrating against my hard flesh. Her head bobbed vigorously. I realized she was trying to finish me off as quickly as possible. It felt good but I didn't want to think she was taking control of this situation. Wondering what to do about that, I felt a familiar tightness growing. I grinned.

Pleasure washed over me. As my first spurt of cum flooded into Portia's mouth, I forced myself to pull back. My dick popped lewdly out from between her lips. My second jet of cum spattered over her lips. Taking hold of my shaft, I stroked the next surges onto Portia's full breasts. As my ejaculation slowed to steady flow, I pushed my dick back against her face. Portia took me back between her lips. I quivered as she sucked on my slowing pulsing dick, drawing more pleasure and cum from my shaft. Slowly, my orgasm faded and, with a groan, I pulled myself from her mouth a second time.

"Spit," I said firmly, stepping back to look down at Portia.

She was a beautiful mess. Sticky white semen stood out starkly against her dark breasts and more covered her lips. A mix of white cum and saliva streamed down onto her chin and breasts as she obeyed my instructions and spat out what I had spurted into her mouth. Some of my semen had sprayed or dripped onto her blouse, visibly staining her neckline.

"Very good," I said, grinning as I put my dick back into my pants. I helped Portia to her feet. "Now go sit at your desk and answer the phones while I work on that damn report."

Looking down at the mess on her breasts, Portia reached over to the box of tissues on my desk. I smacked her hand away.

"I didn't say you could clean up," I snapped. Her eyes got wide. "You go sit up front just as you are. Answer the phones. Oh and since I'm sure you're still wet, you can rub your clit. Don't stop until you come."

"What if the phone rings while I'm...?" Portia asked huskily.

"Answer it," I said. "Now get. I've got a lot of work to do."

Portia, cum covered and wet, swayed out of my office and sat down at her desk. I watched as she settled into her chair and one hand up under her skirt. As I started working on the December reports, the soft sounds of Portia's moans filled the office. Maybe she was going to work out after all.