The Many Mistaes of Miss Yle

Eliza Kyle, whiz programmer and tech genius, had forgotten to submit her code before the end of the day. She rushed down Wabash back to her office, her Louboutins - her only pair - clicking loudly on the sidewalk. Eliza had been on her way to a date-a musician who lived in Logan Square whose tinder profile spoke to her-when she remembered. Only her little black dress kept her from a full sprint.

William is going to kill me,

she thought.

William was the CTO at her firm. He was an amazing programmer, better than her, if a bit introverted. Behind his back, the other engineers and producers mocked him.

Actually Adams,

they said, or

Gomez

, some lame Addams Family reference. Eliza understood why everyone talked trash. He was tough to work for, curt and cold most of the time, but when he actually had the time to mentor, it was clear he was a good teacher and a technical prodigy. His straight-laced demeanor also contributed. William Adams-even his name screamed nerd-wore his hair meticulously coiffed with a side part and carried a well-groomed beard. He was fit, too, you could see the strength of his frame beneath his shirts. He took care of himself and it showed. In addition his other enviable qualities, he was also absurdly wealthy for someone in their late 20s.

In spite of what everyone had said, Eliza found him cute. He wasn't her usual type. Normally, she gravitated toward tattooed men with job and commitment issues. But William and Eliza had maintained a casual office flirtation for months. The coy looks, unneeded touches, spending a little too long at the coffee machine or each others' desks. They even had a little inside joke. She called him Mr. Adams, he called her Miss Kyle. It felt taboo since formality was forbidden at tech companies.

Eliza dashed through the lobby of her building and hammered the elevator call button. Moments later, the doors dinged open on the 30th floor. At first, she thought everyone had left, but then she saw William's light.

Oh shit

, she thought,

He has to be redoing my work

. Eliza looked down at herself and pulled the top of her dress a little lower. She would need the girls' help tonight. The office was quiet. Eliza wound her way through the cubicles that spanned the entire open floor plan. She passed by one of the pantries the company kept stocked with snacks, terrible coffee, and alcohol for parties and took a pack of gum to chew. She'd need it for the date later anyways.

Mr. Adams raised his head in surprise when she came into his office. Before anything was said, Eliza caught him checking her out. She felt his eyes like a touch as he eyed first her legs, then her wide hips and ass, then her perky tits. Eliza had gotten dolled up for the date, so she knew she looked ready to be ravished. She kept her chestnut colored hair in a pixie cut dyed with purple ombre. Big hoop earrings dangled over her bare shoulders, with small cartilage piercings up her lobe. A small emerald stud in her eyebrow caught the light. Mr. Adams was impressed.

"Wow, Eliza," Mr. Adams said.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Mr. Adams," Eliza teased.

"You should," he said, "I assume you're here because you forgot to submit the bug fix?"

"Yes! I'm so sorry, I'll get it in right now," Eliza turned to go.

"One moment, Miss Kyle," he said.

Eliza stopped in her tracks. There was something dangerous in his tone. She turned on her heel with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Mr. Adams?" Eliza asked innocently.

He swirled a finger nervously on his desk and said, "Don't let this happen again. I'd hate to have to punish you for that."

Eliza flushed. His tone was lusty, completely unlike him. Eliza was intrigued. She put her palms face down on his desk and leaned over, her ample cleavage filling his vision.

"And just what would that punishment be, Mr. Adams?"

A smirk appeared on his face. He stood up and walked around his desk. His desk lamp illuminated only a small portion of the cavernous office. It seemed to Eliza like a cave, the twinkling lights of the city the stars in the sky. Eliza stayed as she was, hands on the desk, and followed him with her eyes. Mr. Adams walked slowly around his desk, past the leather sofa, and stopped behind her. He spanked her hard on her right ass cheek.

Eliza stood straight up and gasped. The spank kindled something deep inside her, causing her fair skin to color girlishly. Mr. Adams' eyes were wide with terror, his face crimson with shame.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me," he stammered.

Eliza was alive with desire. Her eyes traced down his body and saw him stiffening. She swallowed once and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Adams. It won't happen again."

The response struck him dumb. Eliza, not knowing what to do or say, darted from his office. She submitted her code and left without saying goodbye. She arrived an hour late to the date, but it didn't matter. It was a bust. All she could think about was her boss spanking her until she got home and into bed and made herself come.

Tension hung thick in the air between William and Eliza in the following days. Their normal flirtations and chats became tightrope walks, each of them trying to feel their way through precariously. For his part, he could barely look her in the eyes. Eliza took advantage of that. She wore her shortest skirts, tightest blouses, and started wearing makeup to work. Everyone's heads were turning, William included. The tension didn't break until a week later, on a day when Eliza had brought coffee in for the tech team. William called out from his office for Eliza. Eliza's closest friend in the office and her team's product manager, a curvy latina named Maria, gave Eliza a worried look.

"It's nothing, Maria," Eliza said, rising from her desk.

"Mmhmm, I bet," Maria said ominously.

"Girl, please," Eliza replied as she left.

In his office, William had the cup of coffee Eliza had brought him on his desk.

"Close the door, please, Miss Kyle," he said in the same dangerous tone as before.

Eliza closed the door. In the morning light, his office seemed smaller, the leather sofa taking up too much room, the nerdy posters on the wall reminscent more of a boy's bedroom than a CTO's office. That was tech, though, just grown up nerds. Eliza also noted that his office windows were opaque-apparently they had some fancy new tech that could toggle between transparent and opaque. Mr. Adams's face was also beet red. Was he trying something here?

"What can I do for you, Mr. Adams?"

William put his index finger into his coffee all the way to his last knuckle, "My coffee isn't hot, Miss Kyle."

Eliza's eyes darted between the coffee and William-Mr. Adams. Her heart began to race suddenly. Her cheeks turned pink. He

was

trying something.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Adams. Can I get you a new cup?" she asked innocently.

"No, Miss Kyle, but you'll need to be punished," he said. Though it was a statement, it sounded more like a question, an offer.

This was it. This was the choice. She could walk out now and this would never happen again. They would never discuss it. It would just be a memory. A delicious memory, but memory nonetheless. She felt as though she could see the line she would have to cross, could feel its barrier. Eliza never could manage to stay within the lines and boundaries assigned to her. She stepped over it.

"Of course, Mr. Adams," Eliza said breathlessly.

Mr. Adams stood up. His khaki pants failed to hide the outline of his hard cock. Eliza noted that he was above average, but not obscenely large. He approached Eliza like he had before. Eliza bent over, put her hands palms down on the desk, and arched her back, lifting her ass up for a spanking. Goosebumps appeared on her legs in anticipation, but Mr. Adams didn't spank her. He laid his left hand on her lower back.

"My finger is covered in coffee from your mistake," he said, "Clean it."

"Oh, of course," Eliza said. She reached to take a tissue from his desk.

"No," he said, "With your mouth." Eliza's eyes widened.

He stood right next to her, his finger extended toward her face. Eliza licked her lips, looked up into his eyes, then took his index finger into her mouth. She took it all in and cleaned it, twirling her tongue around as if it were a stiff cock.

A small moan escaped Mr. Adams' lips. "Good girl," he said in a husky voice.

He pulled his finger from her mouth, and she said, "Thank you, sir."

Mr. Adams trembled with excitement at her using the honorary. He laid his right hand on the small of her back, and, with no warning, spanked her with his left. Then again on her other cheek.

"Don't let it happen again, Miss Kyle," he said, turning from her to walk back to his seat.

Eliza's pussy was drenched. Half mad with desire, it was all she could do to not jump over his desk right then and there. Instead, she smirked at him. She could play this game, too.

"Anything else, Mr. Adams?" she asked, standing up.

"Not right now, Miss Kyle."

Eliza left the office and headed straight for the ladies room. She rubbed her clit greedily in silence in one of the stalls. When she came back to her desk, head cloudy with post orgasm bliss, Maria hurried over.

"What happened in there?" Maria asked.

"Oh, nothing. He just wanted to talk over, uh, our work for this sprint," Eliza said coyly.

"Huh, weird," Maria said, "I'll talk to him, he should be going through me."

"Don't worry, I can handle him," Eliza replied. And she could, she hoped.

#

It didn't take a week for the next incident. Clearly Mr. Adams had been scheming after hours. On the Friday of that same week, it was Eliza's turn to take lunch orders. The office had decided to order sandwiches, and Eliza took the time to triple check Mr. Adams' order. When she returned from picking them up, she doled out the food to each of her coworkers individually, saving Mr. Adams' for last. She entered his office and handed him his sandwich, then turned to leave. He unwrapped his sandwich quickly and sighed with feigned disappointment.

"Ah, one moment Miss Kyle," he said, "I said I wanted pickles. There are no pickles here."

"You didn't say that, you -" Eliza stammered before realizing, "I'm sorry, Mr. Adams. Am I to be punished?"

"I think so," he said, smirking, "No panties to the office for a week. I'll be checking."

Eliza's mouth went dry. Her fists nervously balled up her skirt at her thighs. "Will that be all, Mr. Adams?"

"Yes, I think so," he said, picking up his sandwich.

Eliza's mind raced as she left his office. How would he know? What was she doing? This was insane. Still, her pussy was slick with desire. She would do it. She had never been submissive before, to anyone, so the thrill and desire she felt submitting to Mr. Adams was novel and intoxicating. She had to see where this would take her.

"Everything good?" Maria asked, surprising Eliza.

"Oh, yes, sorry," Eliza responded.

"Looks like you've seen a ghost, which makes sense since you were in talking with Gomez," Maria chuckled as she spoke.

"Yeah, that has to be it," Eliza said, taking a seat at her desk.

She got practically nothing done the rest of the day. She spent the weekend picking out outifts William-Mr. Adams-might like. Skirts and low-cut tops, thigh high tights. She tucked her normal attire-jeans, boots, the occasional t-shirt-further and further back into her closet. To her surprise and shameful delight, Eliza even went shopping for some new clothes with Mr. Adams's wandering eyes in mind. Lacy bras and matching panties or thongs, blouses or halters that hugged her fit body, and skirts that accentuated her curves. A few of the outfits left very little to the imagination, which made her wet just thinking about. She had no idea what was coming over her, but she craved more. More of his gaze, his touch, his commands.

#

Monday, Eliza came into the office and went about her normal routine: a latte at her local shop, to-do list in the morning, pull any code changes from the end of the week. She wore one of her new outfits. She was giving seductive librarian. A tight white blouse that showed off her tits perfectly, a long pencil skirt that made her walk with a sexy sway, and her round frame eyeglasses. Eliza tried to pretend that nothing was different, but she knew everything had changed. She kept glancing back at the elevators for Mr. Adams to arrive.

Mr. Adams came into the office just thirty minutes after Eliza. He had on his normal attire, including a tailored coat and designer shirt and shoes. He walked past her desk, not his usual route, and stopped to whisper to her, "My office, five minutes."

Eliza was already like a ticking bomb, and his whispered order lit her fuse. She flushed across her body. Her keyboard clacked as she typed the last few lines of code she had been working on, then she followed him to his office. Once inside, Mr. Adams frosted the windows and closed the door behind her, then moved so close to her she could smell his gentle aftershave, taste his musk.

"Well, Miss Kyle?" he asked.

Eliza's heart beat in her ears. She shook with anticipation and trepidation. "I'm behaving as a good girl should, Mr. Adams," she said.

"I'll be the judge of that," he replied.

Eliza felt his hand graze the inside of her thighs, then he cupped the meat of her leg. He paused there, his eyes searching hers for consent. Eliza, shaking, wet, heart racing, didn't stop him. She kept her eyes on him as Mr. Adams moved his hand slowly up her thigh, lifting her pencil skirt with his arm. At the crease between her leg and her cunt, he cupped her mons. His middle finger slid between her wet slit and came to rest on her swollen, throbbing clit.

She gasped in pleasure. Mr. Adams had his face an inch from hers now, his hand motionless. Eliza's wet pussy enveloped his finger, soaking it. Unable to resist, Eliza undulated her hips, moving his finger along the hood of her clit. Mr. Adams smirked at her as she ground her clit into his fingers. When a soft moan escaped her lips, Mr. Adams pulled his hand back. Eliza whimpered softly.

"What a good little slut you are, Miss Kyle," he said, turning back to his desk.

Eliza struggled to compose herself. She was an independent woman who, at every opportunity, bucked the patriarchy. And yet, when he called her a slut just then, she almost fainted from the blood rushing to her cunt. She gulped, ran a hand across her brow and smoothed her skirt before replying, "Will that be all, Mr. Adams?"

"Yes, for now. Be in here tomorrow morning, same time," he said, eyes downcast onto some reports.

"Yes, Mr. Adams," she said.

Eliza left his office and found her way to the very same stall as last week, where she lifted her skirt and slid her hands between her wet lips. She leaned against the wall and spun slow, gentle circles around her throbbing clit.

I'm a good little slut,

she kept thinking to herself.

I'm his good little slut

. She came with that last revelation.

Every day for the rest of that week was similar. Eliza came into the office early. If Mr. Adams was already working, she knocked on his door, entered, and he slid his hand up her legs and into her moist pussy. She squirmed each time, soaking his finger and even her skirts on a few occasions. Every day, just as she lost control and began to try to come with him, he took his hand away. Every day, she left to use the restroom, rubbing her clit, inserting her fingers into her pussy until another orgasm rippled through her. Once, she tried to take hold of his arm, to keep his hand on her, but he rebuffed her completely.

"And here I thought you were learning to behave. You naughty brat," Mr. Adams chided, "You'll have to be punished for that."

Mr. Adams took a seat on his leather sofa, his knees together. He tapped on his thigh three times.

"Yes, sir," Eliza said. She tried to sit on his lap.

"No, not like that," Mr. Adams corrected, "Lay over my lap, your ass in the air."

"W-what?" Eliza stammered.

Mr. Adams leveled a withering look at her, "You heard me."

Eliza thought she must be dripping wet. She gingerly got onto her knees, then clambered over his lap. Mr. Adams hiked up her skirt until her ass was exposed to the air conditioned air. Her thick labia squeezed out between her clenched thighs.

What the fuck am I doing,

Eliza thought.

"You'll count out loud, Miss Kyle," Mr. Adams said.

"Wha-" Eliza was interrupted by a swift spank to her ass. She yelped in surprise.

Mr. Adams paused and waited. Eliza realized what he was waiting for.

"One," she whispered.

"Louder," he said.

"One."

Spank. She let out a soft cry with each slap of his hand.

"Two."

Spank.

"Three."

Spank.

"Four."

"That's enough, for now," Mr. Adams said.

Eliza's pussy ached to be filled. A red welt the shape of Mr. Adams' hand rose on her cheeks. She scrambled a bit to get off of his lap. She pulled her skirt down over her sore butt and smoothed out any new wrinkles before leaving with a polite goodbye.

Every morning for the rest of the week, she tried to keep his hand on her clit. Every morning she received the four spanks she deserved. The rules of their simple, sensual game were clear and simple until Friday.

Eliza had a big presentation on bug burndown scheduled for Friday, so she had spent her week without panties prepping the slides and the information from Jira. She was glad for the looming deadline; her sore ass would have distracted her from coding. When Friday came, she dressed up for the presentation: a puffy floral cowl skirt with a nice, tailored blouse, heels, and tights. That morning, Mr. Adam's called her in as he had been. Confused, Eliza went into his office. This time, however, Mr. Adams didn't rise to greet her. He gestured for her to sit across from him, which she did.

He frosted the windows and said, "I've been reviewing your code, Miss Kyle."

Eliza raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Do you have any feedback, Mr. Adams?"

"It's dodgy, at best, cowboy code. Is this the kind of work you want to be submitting?" he asked.

That dangerous tone had returned. And something more beneath it. His voice shook ever so slightly. His nerves, Eliza suspected.

What could he possibly be planning to have him this worried?

"No, not at all, Mr. Adams," she responded, "I'd be happy to learn and improve."

"I want to, ah, give you more responsibility, but first you'll have to show me you're ready for it," he said.

Eliza narrowed her eyes. She let the silence between them drag out. This was another line, another boundary that, once crossed, would be crossed forever. Fear bled into her desire. What

were

her boundaries? Where was the line? Eliza didn't know. All she knew was that this had felt good. Not just good, but

right.

She felt like a teenager again. He watched her intently, his face betraying his own fear and desire.

"Anything, sir," she said.

Mr. Adams smiled, relieved, and opened his desk drawer to retrieve a small, flat object. He slid it across the desk to her saying, "You'll need to wear this for your presentation today."

Eliza picked it up. A vibrator! Of course it was. Given all of his other kinks, it made sense he had a voyeuristic streak. He took his phone out, and the vibrator started buzzing in her hand. Eliza flushed.

So that's his game,

she thought. It was winged with a small cup that would caress her clit just perfectly. It had two small straps to keep it in place in case she wasn't wearing any panties.

"What if I come during my presentation, Mr. Adams?" Eliza asked innocently.

"If I can tell you came, then I'll know you need some more, ah, training," he said, "I need to see how you work under pressure, you understand."