Never Enough

Chapter Four - The confession

It was Friday. My third day working for Benjamin, and even though I wouldn't be seeing him today, I wore trousers. And knickers. And a bra. They made me feel much more secure.

I felt altogether more work-focused and professional, and I resolved to put yesterday behind me. A clean slate after what had been a rocky start to my relationship with my new boss: Turning in some disappointing work, being flustered and disorganised, and then accidentally letting him see that I'd been spanked that morning - and, even worse, that I wasn't wearing any underwear under my short skirt.

Although it was, objectively, outrageous behaviour that he'd had me bend over his desk, lifted up my dress, and then spanked my bare bottom, I had kind of deserved it. None of it would have happened if I'd done my job properly and dressed appropriately.

Today, I told myself, Benjamin will be impressed with me. I'll have the new brief in his inbox by the end of the day, and it'll be thorough and at the very high standard of quality that I pride myself on.

The morning went very well. A couple of client meetings, and a 3 hour block of uninterrupted time to focus on the brief. I was completely absorbed in my work, feeling energetic and productive. So it was unfortunate that as I headed out to grab some lunch from the little deli down the road, I bumped into Benjamin waiting for the lift.

"Oh hi," I smiled, determined for things to be normal between us. Yesterday simply hadn't happened, I kept telling myself.

He nodded a greeting, and then turned to face the lift again. His suit was unbuttoned, and his muscular chest was evident even under his white shirt and blue tie.

I stood awkwardly beside him, my heart beating fast. From what I could tell from the reflection in the silver lift door, I was looking attractive but smart in my figure hugging trousers and navy shirt.

"How..." I began, determined to make some small talk and make things feel more casual. "...are you settling in?"

It was lame, but it was all I could think of.

He turned to look at me, and I felt colour rise in my cheeks despite myself. He was very inconveniently attractive, and no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn't help but remember being over his desk yesterday while he spanked my naked bottom with his hand.

"Yes very well thank you Jen," he replied. He didn't smile, but he wasn't frowning either. "And how are you today?"

He continued to look at me, and I made myself maintain eye contact.

"Oh yes, I'm good thanks. I've been making good progress on the Atherton Brief."

"Excellent," he replied, with an incline of his head as he nodded approval. "And I see you're wearing trousers today."

My stomach flipped at this inappropriate remark, and I definitely blushed.

"Er, yes," I responded weakly, and turned to look at the lift display. It was still 3 floors away.

"That's a shame," he said, also turning to look at the lift display.

He said it in the manner of a teacher who'd just learned that one of his pupils had done something to disappoint him.

A difficult silence fell, although as far I could see he didn't find it remotely difficult.

The lift arrived with an electronic ping, and the doors slid open to reveal the empty mirrored interior.

We stepped in together, and then I instantly felt even more self conscious as the doors closed and we were in the confined space together.

"Why do you say that?" I asked him, my heart racing. What was I doing??

I half turned my head to look at him out of the corner of my eye, and I saw a little smile on his lips.

He turned his head a little to contemplate me with mild amusement. Then he turned away again just as we stopped at the fifth floor. The doors slid open, and two men got in, laughing about some TV series or movie. They stood in front of us talking away but I didn't take in anything they said. For me, it was as if there was a pregnant silence between me and Benjamin. Would he answer my question?

Probably best that he didn't, I reflected. I should have ignored his comment completely.

The men got out on the third floor, and once again it was the two of us. I knew our time in the lift was nearly over, and I found myself wishing that we had longer. I wanted to know his answer, but he just stood there, inscrutable.

And then finally he spoke.

"Because," he said, turning to look at me again and casting his eyes up and down my body as if he was unimpressed, "I think that clients respond better to women in skirts and dresses."

"Oh," I said, raising my eyebrows. "So... are you asking me to wear skirts and dresses?"

I was still blushing, but I felt excited and reckless.

"Jen, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to tell you what to wear. I'm simply making an observation that might help you."

"Well, thank you," I replied, with a hint of flirtatiousness - although I couldn't for the world decide whether he was flirting with me or simply being as bluntly matter of fact as he appeared.

We arrived at the ground floor, and as we exited into the foyer, through the group of people waiting for the lift, he said:

"So I'd like to review your brief this evening. Can you have it ready by close of business?"

"Yes, I think so," I said, pleased that I'd be able to meet his expectations.

But his reply was less than impressed: "You think so?" he queried.

"Oh, well no, I mean that I will."

We were now emerging onto the street and he was getting his mobile phone out and evidently planning to stop there and make a call.

"Good," he replied briskly. "And make sure you've properly checked it this time. I'm sure you don't want a repeat of yesterday - and I'm sure your husband doesn't either?"

Believing that our chat was ending, I was already beginning to turn and walk away, blushing at what he'd just said - but suddenly I realised he was looking at me, his phone ignored in his hand while he waited for a response from me.

I blinked. We were surrounded by people walking past us, some of them colleagues going in or out of the building. It was just such an unexpected thing for him to suddenly say that I couldn't think how to reply.

"He doesn't know about it," I blurted out.

He frowned slightly. "Oh? Whyever not?"

I felt puzzled. Somehow I'd assumed that Benjamin would have wanted what happened to remain a secret. It was, after all, sexual harassment.

"Well because... I suppose I thought he wouldn't approve."

"Of your behaviour, or my method of dealing with it?"

I hesitated. "Both I suppose."

Still frowning, he looked at me thoughtfully. Then he said: "Give me your husband's number please. Since he disciplines you at home, he should be made aware of punishments you receive in work."

My heart stopped.

I glanced nervously around at the passers-by, but no-one appeared to have heard what he'd just said.

"I... No, I... I'd rather tell him myself. Please."

I felt like a naughty child again.

He looked at me for a moment longer, and glanced at his watch. "Come and see me this afternoon Jen. Six o'clock."

Again, I was completely thrown. Come and see him? Why?

Just a few moments ago I'd been feeling a bit flirty and excited, but now I was extremely nervous. What was going on?

And six o'clock wasn't the afternoon. I always left at 5:30, but I didn't say that. Besides, he was already shifting his attention to his phone, finding the person he wanted to call. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.

"Okay," I said simply, but he didn't acknowledge me further. His phone was against his ear, and so I took a step back, uncertain whether to even say goodbye, and then turned and walked quickly down the pavement to the deli, my mind racing.

--

"That's okay baby," Stephen said on the phone as I walked back with the brown paper bag containing my lunch in the other hand, smiling weakly at one of my workmates as she went past. He added: "To be honest, a couple of the guys are going for a beer after work, so maybe I'll join them. Just call me when you're done and maybe we can go grab something to eat?"

Stephen only worked half a mile away, so it sounded like a sensible plan. Except that I had literally no idea what was going to happen in Benjamin's office.

After ringing off, I paused for a moment before re-entering the building, forcing myself to breathe steadily, composing myself.

I just needed to go and see Benjamin at 6 and have a sensible conversation where I explained that actually I wasn't going to tell my husband, but what had happened must never happen again. I needed to be firm. Professional.

Enough of this nonsense - it was stupid, and dangerous. I was a strong woman, good at my job, happily married. Benjamin had no grounds or justification to sack me, and if he did I would make a formal complaint about what he'd done to me and he knew it.

I think people tutted at me blocking the pavement as they walked past me, but I was lost in my little pep talk to myself.

What had happened yesterday was completely inappropriate. If he had a problem with my work, then it needed to be dealt with properly. In fact, I should make sure I always had someone with me when I met with him. Yes, that would make total sense. I could ask Phil. Or Angela.

I nodded. Deep breath. Good. I would nip this in the bud.

I set off walking again, striding into the building with my head held high. There was no sign of Benjamin thank goodness. I would have the afternoon to work on the brief, and prepare myself for what I was going to say.

--

At six o'clock sharp, I rapped on the heavy wooden door.

The building was very very quiet. Almost no one stayed on after 5:30 - only some of the juniors on floor 6, and occasionally one of the most senior partners up on 10th. But today was Friday, and I was certain that there would be no one there except for the two of us.

At first I thought that Benjamin himself might have forgotten and gone home, but then suddenly his door opened. He was evidently on a call on his mobile phone, beckoning me in curtly and walking over to the window.

He wasn't wearing his jacket, and he'd taken off his tie. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his strong hairy forearms.

In his powerful cleanly shaven jaw I saw muscles clenching. Something that was being said on the other end of the phone was displeasing him.

He looked insanely attractive.

I stood there patiently waiting, and he completely ignored me.

He said nothing at all on the phone call, but I could hear the tinny sound of different voices disagreeing with each other.

And then eventually he spoke to whoever they were, and I was impressed by the decisive and directive way he closed the conversation and assigned actions to people.

When finally he was done with the call, he tossed the phone onto his desk and immediately turned his attention to me, beckoning me to come to where he stood.

I complied instinctively, and under his gaze I felt my bravery and resolve melting away.

"Okay Jen," he said, immediately getting down to business. "Take off your trousers."

Whatever it was I'd been expecting, it wasn't that.

I just stared at him dumbfounded.

"Why?" I asked, without a hint of impertinence - just simply confused. There could be no explanation for this - no justification whatsoever.

"Because I've already told you my feelings on trousers. And because I'm willing to bet that you're wearing knickers today, so it's not even like you'll be exposing anything to me that you haven't already. So, trousers off. Now please."

He was impatient, as if this was a prerequisite to getting on with the main purpose of our conversation.

"I'm... meeting my husband for a meal in a little while."

"Good. Then let's crack on shall we? Don't make me ask again."

"But what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to ask you some questions."

"Questions? I mean, what sort of questions?"

"Stop wasting my time Jen. Remove your trousers and lay them over the back of the chair. The sooner we get on with this, the sooner we can both go and enjoy our weekends."

His tone of voice sounded like his patience was wearing thin, and I found myself suddenly hastening to appease him. I undid my trousers, and slid them down without any further protest. Then of course I realised that I needed to take my shoes off, so with my trousers halfway down, I hopped about on one foot while I did so.

I folded the trousers neatly in half and laid them carefully over the chair-back, standing back and looking anxiously to see his reaction, my hands folded in front of me to try to cover my very small pink knickers.

How was this happening when I'd been so adamant that I was going to stand up to him? How was I now stood here with my bare feet padding nervously on the carpet like a submissive and naughty girl, wearing nothing but a little G-string on my lower half?

"Okay good," he nodded. "Now we need to establish what the situation is, because I'm not happy about your behaviour."

My stomach flipped at the way he was talking to me, and I felt a heat start to grow in my pussy.

He went on: "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer truthfully. Okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, in a small voice.

"Okay

sir

," he said at once, with a warning in his voice.

"Okay sir," I said, my heart pounding. My pussy was getting wet now, purely from the way he was talking to me. No one had ever made me call them sir before, except my teachers in school.

"Good girl. Now, first question: Were you sexually excited by me spanking you yesterday?"

I felt panic rising up in me now, adding to the cocktail of crazy arousal, and submissive longing.

If I hadn't been half undressed, I don't think I would have so easily entered this acquiescent state that made me simply obey him and answer such an intrusive and outrageous question.

"Yes," I said, looking down at the floor. I tried to focus on things to make this experience easier to manage. Easier to manage in terms of the level of my horniness and submissiveness. I needed to retain some control.

I looked at his shiny shoes. He had large feet. The grey carpet, rough underfoot, had little flecks of colour that I hadn't noticed before.

Since there was no reply from him, I glanced up to gauge his expression. He was frowning at me.

"And do you think that's appropriate for a workplace setting, in a well respected law firm?"

"No," I replied meekly, looking down again. "Sir."

"No. You're right it isn't. For every answer that disappoints me, you will lose an item of clothing, do you understand?"

I gasped, looking at him wide eyed. "What?"

"Take off your blouse," he said.

I tried to stammer a response, but I couldn't find any words at all. My fingers went straight to the little buttons and started to undo them.

I had no plan. No ideas on how to stop this from happening, so all I could do was obey.

My mind was in turmoil. Part of me wanted this. Part of me was terrified.

I took off my little shirt and laid it over the back of the chair, feeling thankful that I'd worn underwear today, or else I would now be completely naked.

But what if I got the next question wrong? My breathing was shaky as I stood upright again, my hands covering my crotch once more.

"Hands by your side Jen," he told me, and I did as I was told, acutely aware of how tiny the little triangle of material that constituted the front of my knickers was.

He looked directly at it dispassionately. And then his eyes looked my whole body up and down.

"Have you thought about me sexually?" was the next question, delivered matter of factly, but hitting me like a punch in the gut.

I closed my eyes, feeling the colour rise in my face even more.

The room was utterly silent. The building was silent. Perhaps it was just me and him in the whole building.

I heard a siren from outside in the distance, but otherwise the noises from the street were inaudible through the triple glazed windows.

I opened my eyes again and looked at him. He was implacable. Completely in control. Dashing in his suit trousers and shirt, lit by the warm sun low in the sky.

I looked down at my own nearly naked body bathed in the same light. I knew I had a perfect figure, and yet Benjamin seemed immune.

He showed no sign of enjoyment at all - he was simply dealing with an errant employee and setting her straight. Putting her in her place and showing her the error of her ways.

"Yes," I admitted. "Yes sir."

I lowered my gaze in shame.

There was a pause, and then he said: "Sexual thoughts about your manager - your superior - in a work setting. Do you think

that

is acceptable?"

"No sir."

"I agree." He sighed. "Take off your bra and give it to me. You are going to need to be taught a lesson."

I fought to control my breathing and stay calm. Despite baring my body in public in the past, this was a hundred times more humiliating.

And a hundred times more erotic, in ways that I couldn't begin to explain.

Without any protest, I unclipped my bra and slipped it off. Because he was a couple of metres away from me, I had to step towards him and lean forwards to hold it out to him, conscious of my breasts swaying a little. He didn't take it at first, leaving me in that position, but as soon as he did I moved back to where I'd been before, instinctively covering my breasts with my left arm, and then remembering and forcing myself to leave them uncovered.

He was looking at my bare breasts now, and I felt my nipples harden simply from his gaze. I felt so vulnerable and exposed - him fully clothed, and me in just my ridiculously small knickers.

He folded my lacy pink bra in half, and strode over to his desk, pulled open a drawer, put my bra into it and slid it shut. Then he sat in his chair and reclined, his hands behind his head, looking at me thoughtfully from the other side of the desk.

"I'm confiscating your bra. You'll bring your other ones in on Monday, and they can go into my drawer as well. No bras for the next week, as punishment. Got it?"

"Yes sir," I said, utterly astonished.

"Last question."

I braced myself. What humiliating thing was he going to make me admit now?

"Are you going to tell your husband about all this, tonight?"

I hesitated. My instinct was that I absolutely would

not

be telling him. He would be so angry and upset that I couldn't bear the thought of it.

But... Benjamin had been very clear that I should tell him. So even though I privately told myself that I wouldn't, I said: "Yes. I will."

"Good girl," he nodded. "That's the first answer that hasn't disappointed me. For that I will let you keep your knickers on while I spank you."

An icy chill went through me that was half shock and half intense sexual excitement. God my pussy was so wet. Insubstantial as they were, I was grateful to be keeping my knickers on.

"Okay come here," he said, tilting his head to indicate that I was to walk around the large desk to where he was sat.

Feeling very self conscious, I did so. Walking while you're naked - or nearly naked - is different to walking when you have clothes on. Especially when you're the only one naked.

He sat upright in his chair as I approached, and then looking at me, he patted his lap.

Blushing furiously, I turned and sat on his lap, as if he was Santa Claus and I was a little girl about to ask him for the present I wanted. In this case, a spanking.

But he barked sternly: "No, get over my knee to be spanked."

Flustered, I got up, stammering an apology, and in a hurry to placate him, I quickly leaned forward over this man's lap until my hands were on the floor, my feet on tiptoe, and my bottom raised up ready to accept what was coming to me - which might be harsher now that I'd angered him.