Author's Note: Dear Reader, although not necessary, to best appreciate this story, I suggest you read chapter one of this series- it is very short and fast moving. Enjoy!
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The confession of Mrs. George had weighed on my mind. I knew I crossed the line when I challenged her to confess her submissive nature to me but I had to challenge her. All the signs were there but I was not seeing them until I had my moment of clarity. It came to me after I realized how she addressed me, calling me "Sir" all the time, even despite my insistence that she use my first name, yet she addressed other managers by their first names and corporate officers and board of director members as "Mr. This" and Ms. That". Nobody else was "Sir." She did not help the situation by later sending me a personal note thanking me for asking of her nature and confiding it was only directed to me. Co-workers should not do these things, especially when they are married to others.
Yes indeed, Mrs. George's confession incited fantasy. Maybe this story should be titled "The Confessions of Mrs. George and her Sir," or, "The Confessions of Mrs. George and her Lustful Sir," for by these stories, I too am professing my desires for her. As I told you, I wanted to take her in the basest of dominant ways after her confession. But I would not, and she would not, have it, and, I would not do it based on marital circumstances.
But days after our encounter, a heady sexual tension hung in the air and neither of us had yet to address it. I assumed she was waiting for me to raise the issue.
Mrs. George was responsible for preparing the quarter annual reports for my review and they were due. She was very good at the task, consistently objective in her reporting, technical in her assessments and demonstrated excellent future forecasting. As was protocol, I received the third quarter report the day before our review meeting, I read it with interest, noted the department's profitability was down five percent in what was usually a prosperous quarter, closed the report in disgust and went home wondering what was going wrong.
Mrs. George and I met in her office the next day at two o'clock to review the report so I could explain to the company's president and board of directors why we were not profitable and what the future held. I had interacted with Mrs. George without mention of our interlude but now we were behind closed doors, the review was finished and there was an elephant sitting in the corner of the room. Neither of us addressed it. I think it was equally uncomfortable yet erotically charged for each of us- we both knew it should or would come up after our primary task was finished. And it did, in a way Mrs. George did not expect.
"How are you?" I asked as I closed the quarterly report.
"Good, Sir," she replied.
"Do we need to discuss the other day?" I asked.
"No, we both understand and respect our situations and limitations..." she said.
"I like that outfit. Is it new?"
"Yes Sir, thank you for noticing, I wore it for you Sir," she said sitting a bit more upright, the silky sheer blouse tugging across the front of her chest.
"Mrs. George, I must tell you, I am a bit disappointed by this report," I began, gently shaking the document in the air.
"Sir?" she asked with quizzical concern.
"The objective reporting is good, the assessment and forecasts are... just adequate.... I feel a bit vulnerable for when I report to the board tomorrow..... I've seen better work from you. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"I'm sorry Sir... I tried but the I could only find that the facts support what is reported."
"I beg to differ Mrs. George... there is room for improvement... it is five o'clock and time to go home for the day, but I want to know if you can you stay a few minutes."
"I suppose," she said. I stood and locked her office door.
"Stand up Mrs. George," I said and she must have seen the fire in my eyes and sensed the intentions of my lust.
"But Sir..." she said.
"You heard me Mrs. George, stand up, hands on the desk and lean forward."
Mrs. George reluctantly complied, "Sir, I thought we understood neither of us can do this..."
"We do Mrs. George, and we won't, but you need to trust me," I said gently pulling her hips back so her ass was pushed out a little more, "You told me this is who you are. I intend to respect your desires and limitations but exercise my position. Now, spread your feet Mrs. George and hold your head up with pride."
I stepped behind the conservatively dressed woman, who I had known for so long, and observed her elegant figure as she waited for my next action or instruction. The black business skirt hugged her body and resisted as I raised it over her hips. Mrs. George wore a pair of creamy lace panties, her lips tightly caressed by the fabric, excitement betrayed by a faint moist spot.
It would have been easy to pull aside the panties, penetrate Mrs. George's privates and spill myself into her in a moment of unbridled lust but we both knew that would not be acceptable, though it would have been wickedly salacious. Almost as if she could read my mind she said, "Sir, please don't."
"Don't worry Mrs. George, I know and respect the limits... Do you prefer the open hand or that ruler on your desk?"
"Sir? she asked confused.
"For your punishment Mrs. George..."
"Oh... I've never been punished Sir, I'm a good girl... I always please..."
"Well, now, there is always a first time for everything, and for you, this is it... so?"
She hesitated before saying, "The one that leaves the least marks... I can't go home marred... he can't know."
"Oh, he won't know Mrs. George, I can't have him knowing and neither can you. This is our little secret. I'm going to give you a light pink bottom, a slightly blushing one at that- it should provide you with sufficient discomfort and wear off in but a few hours but you need a reminder of what is expected... so, what is your choice?"
"The hand, Sir."
