Girl Friday

It was my first real job after leaving school and I really wanted to make a success of it. I had a nice little certificate that said I had a degree in Business Management and a nice new job to go with it. Mind you, parental influence with the owner got me the position, but the owner made it very clear that it was up to me to prove myself. I was only the Girl Friday, doing all the bits and pieces that no-one else wanted to do, but I had an official title - Assistant to the Assistant Office Manager, or something like that.

Now I have to admit that the job wasn't all plain sailing. There was a learning curve, and the environment was nothing like being at school. Still, taking all things together, I thought I was doing OK, although I did have a couple of problem areas. One was the filing. I very quickly found out why I got stuck with the filing. It was tedious, boring, irritating, and thankless work, and it never seemed to end. Another little problem I had was daydreaming. I've always had that bad little habit. I found that my immediate boss wasn't too enthralled to have to come looking for me and then to find me standing in the file room, a piece of paper in my hand, and me staring blankly into space as I painted some unlikely scenario in my head - something like me being his boss and telling him to do his own damn filing.

The combination of three things that got me into my first real bit of trouble at work was that brand new degree in Business Management, my day-dreaming, and that filing. I was in the file room, refiling the same stupid folder for the umpteenth time, thinking about how nice it would be to have a more modern filing system, and how I knew how to set one up and why not do it?

I mean, why not? I knew all about filing systems and which ones worked best and I was the only one who did any filing so why not just re-arrange the filing system to suit myself? I wouldn't have to do it all at once. There were several empty filing cabinets. I could start my new system using those and the things I had to file on a daily basis, expanding to incorporate the older files when I had more time. So I started doing that.

All went well for a couple of days, then I got back from lunch to find my boss throwing fits. He'd wanted the Anderson file and couldn't find it. What had I done with it?

"I filed it," I told him. "I was told to. I'll get it for you."

I went into the file room, extracted the file and handed it to him. Easy to do, as he'd followed me into the room.

"Why was the file there instead of in the correct place?" he demanded to know.

"I'm setting up a new filing system," I explained proudly. "It will be so much easier to use when I've finished."

He looked at me as though I was bonkers.

"A new filing system?" he asked.

I nodded. I was about to start explaining the advantages of this new system but he interrupted me. Rude of him, but he is the boss so I guess I can excuse it.

"So you want all the staff to learn your new system rather than you learning the old?"

"It's very simple," I assured him. "Everyone will pick it up in no time, and I'll be here to help."

"Unless you're on leave, or at lunch, or running an errand, or visiting another branch," he pointed out.

"Um, I don't think I've ever been to another branch," I told him.

"Not yet, but surely you'll have to visit all the other branches to redo their filing systems, seeing that we all use the same system. It's called consistency of work practices. It means people can transfer between branches with a minimum of fuss as they already know how things will be done."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that," I admitted. "I guess I could go around and fix the filing systems for the other branches."

I have to admit I wasn't too sure how I felt about having to do that.

"That's a great idea," said my boss enthusiastically, "or, there again, maybe you can restore our system to the way it was, including catching up on all the filing you haven't done by the old system, before you go home tonight."

It was starting to register on me that my boss didn't appreciate my new system. A quick look at his face and self-preservation kicked in. I agreed that it would be a fine idea if I set everything back to a boring old normal. Not that I said a boring old normal. That self-preservation bit, remember. All I said was, "Yes, sir."

So I spent the rest of the day refiling the last two days of filing. Boring squared, if you ask me. Not helped by a couple of staff members who came in and asked me to find files that they thought had been mislaid. It was being driven home rather forcefully that while I might do all the boring filing, a lot of people helped themselves to files. I should have guessed that from all the files I always had to put away. It wasn't as though I got them all out in the first place.

You may well guess that by the time knock-off came I was feeling well and truly disgruntled. Did you know gruntled is a proper word? It means pleased, satisfied, and contented. All the things that I wasn't. I was going to quit and go home, but my boss had said finish it today and I figured I could complete it in another hour, so I decided to keep at it. I did not want to come in the next day and have to start the day by doing filing.

I was just putting away the very last file, feeling happy and triumphant, when 'The Manager' walked into the filing room. Notice the quotation marks and the capital letters. The Managing Director wasn't my boss, but my boss's, boss's boss. He was the big cheese, too big to even notice me, or so I had thought.

"Melanie," he said, nodding to me. "I hear I have you to thank for finding the Anderson file this afternoon."

I was smirking and patting myself on the back when he added, "And for losing it," in a very dry voice.

My flush of gratitude promptly switched to a blush of embarrassment. I said something like, "I, um, er, ah," and he waved my reply aside.

"The company actually has a suggestions scheme," he told me. "We don't want to discourage the staff if they think they can do things better, but we do want to think things through carefully before making a change. We are quite willing to pay bonuses for good ideas, especially if they work out and make the company money. Feel free to put forward your proposal for a new filing system. I know the existing one is a bit cumbersome and you may have an idea worth considering."

My mind promptly flashed to a scenario where we implemented my filing system and my boss had to prevent me with a nice cheque as a bonus. From there I naturally moved on to what I'd buy with the money, the size of the cheque growing with every second.

I snapped out of a happy little shopping spree when the MD clapped his hands. He'd still been talking and I'd tuned him out. Oops.

"I also heard that you have this ability to drift off into your own little world occasionally," he remarked. "How does Jonesy get you to listen to him? Do I have to threaten to spank you or something?"

Spank me? I bridled over that. I wasn't a child, to have my bottom smacked. I was an adult. How dare he suggest such a thing? I glanced at his hands. They were rather large hands. Understandable, as the MD was rather a large man. I wondered what it would be like to have one of those hands land a spank on my bottom. They were large enough to just about cover my entire bottom.

It occurred to me that the MD was really rather a hunk, although a bit old. He had to be in his thirties, at least. I felt a little hot and squirmy over the idea of him putting me over his knee. Would he want to pull my panties down when he spanked or just spank me through them. There again, my panties were a little on the skimpy side. He'd just about be spanking a bare bottom without taking them off. Still, I couldn't help wondering. Oh, god. Thinking about him pulling down my panties was making me hotter and squirmier. I had to stop thinking about that.

"Earth to Melanie. Come in, Melanie," said a loud voice and I started. Oh, god, I'd got side-tracked again.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I just got side-tracked by something I was thinking of."

"I see. And what were you thinking of that took your attention away from me?"

"Oh, no. I was thinking about you," I assured him, hating him to think I was being rude and ignoring him. "I was just wondering if you were going to pull down my panties when you spanked me."

I did not say that. Please tell me I did not say that. From the look on his face I had indeed said that. Now I was really blushing.

"Ah, that was a rhetorical question, Melanie," he said softly. "I wasn't really intending to spank you."

"Oh. Ah, I knew that," I said hastily. "It was just that my mind wanders off on tangents sometimes. I didn't actually mean that I thought you were going to spank me. Of course you're not."

"Good. Naturally, if I was going to spank you your panties would have to come off, but I think I'd make you take them off yourself."

"Wh-what? Why would I have to take them off?"

"Builds the anticipation of what is coming. Why don't you think about it for a moment?"

What, think about myself sliding down my panties so that I had a bare bottom for him to spank? And I'd have to roll down my pantihose. God, it would be terrible. I could just see him watching me as I slid my panties down, trying not to lift my dress too high while I did so. Not that it would make any difference. He'd see everything once I was bent over his knee. Oh my god. Would he just stop at spanking me? What if he tried to touch me up as well? I was feeling all hot and squirmy again. This was terrible.

"Would it make it easier for you if I was to take them down after you're bent over my knee?" His voice broke into my musings. Well, not broke in so much as sent them on a different track.

I could see myself bent over his knee. He lifts my dress up and away from my bottom and starts rolling down my panties and pantihose. Would he do them one at a time, or both together. Oh god, he'd have me half naked. Would clamping my legs together stop him seeing anything? I had a nasty feeling that it wouldn't. Oh gosh, what if he didn't stop with my panties. What would I do if he tried to push up my dress and undo my bra? I had nice breasts, but I don't think I wanted to show them to him.

"Are you naked yet," he asked and my hands flew to my breast, reassuring myself that my dress was still in place.

"What do you mean? I haven't taken anything off," I protested.

"Not physically, but what about mentally? How much clothing had you lost?"

"None," I said, feeling flushed and hot. And I was breathing hard, I noticed. I just hope he didn't.

"Uh-huh. So why are your nipples pointing at me?"

I glanced down, just knowing he wasn't lying. I only had on a very light bra and my dress was rather thin as well. My nipples were very pronounced, forming two little tents in my dress. I couldn't help but start thinking of what they would look like without the bra and dress, which seemed to make them stand out even more.

"It's the temperature in here," I quickly snapped. "It's rather cold."

"Odd. You look all hot and bothered. However, to get back to your little misdemeanour with the filing system. Were you suggesting that you should be spanked for it? Wasting all that time and worrying people with missing files?"

"No," I cried, horrified. "You can't spank an employee for that sort of thing."

"Yes, I realise that," the MD said, just as calm as you please. "I just wasn't sure if you did. So I guess your comments about spanking just means that you feel you've earned one for your general behaviour."

"That's right," I said, happy to agree with him, then catching on to what he said. "I mean no. You can't spank me."

"Wrong verb. You mean that I shouldn't spank you. Have you ever considered how dull it would be if we only did the things we should?"

I tried to work my way through that. Was he agreeing that he couldn't spank me or not? Not, I decided. He was saying he could and wanted to know what I thought. Hell, I was getting all hot and squirmy inside. Again. Time for me to go home.

"Um, I think I should be going now," I said carefully.

"That's what I mean. Going home will be the dull, boring option. I think I'll vote for you staying here and trying out a spanking. Do you want to take off your panties or do you want me to do it for you?"

He was kidding. He had to be kidding. What he was doing was pulling a chair away from the wall and sitting on it, looking at me expectantly.

"I'm not taking my panties off," I huffed, folding my arms and taking a firm stand.

"OK. I don't mind doing it," he said, and he reached over and caught my elbow and drew me closer to him. I thought I'd been standing out of reach but he had long arms.

My god, I thought. He's going to do it. He's going to bend me over his knee and pull down my panties and spank me. Now I was feeling really hot and bothered. I was also wrong. Not in his overall intentions. Just in the sequence. Instead of pulling me across his knee he lifted up my dress.

"Here. Hold this," he said, and like an idiot I clutched hold of the hem of my dress, holding it up out of his way.

"What are you doing?" I hissed frantically, while he calmly hooked his fingers over the waist of my pantihose and started pulling them down, gathering my panties as he went.

He didn't reply, just tilting his head to give me a look that said it all for him. What the hell did I think he was doing? He was taking down my panties and they were now nestled around my ankles.

His hands came snaking back up my legs, running up the back of them, lifting until they cupped my bottom. Then he pulled me towards him. I hastily bent over his lap. Big choice. Modesty said to bend over and hide my pussy that way, seeing it wasn't protected by clothes.

"What would you have done if you'd remained standing and he'd bent his head forward a little?" a little voice asked me, and I could feel myself blushing at the thought. His mouth would have been right there next to my pussy.

His hand came down on my bottom. Not with a spank, just comfortably resting on it and lightly rubbing it. It was most distracting. It almost stopped me realising that he was pushing my dress up higher. Almost.

"What are you doing?" I demanded. I was sure I'd already asked that.

"Just rubbing your bottom. It's a very nice bottom you know."

"I'm not talking about that. Leave my bra alone."

Fat lot of good it did, telling him that. He'd already flicked the catch open and pushed my dress and bra higher, so my clothes were now bunched up around my neck or down around my ankles. The rest of me was on display. Thankfully I was face down.

"Just a little idiosyncrasy of mine," he told me, as his hand slipped around me and cupped one of my breasts. "I like to hold a nice breast while I spank the owner."

I gave a squeal at that point because the hand on my bottom lifted and came down sharply, giving me a proper spank. At the same time his hand squeezed my breast. Pleasure and pain at the same time. I was now hot and squirmy and wet and wriggling.

"Stop wriggling," came the command, accompanied by another spank.

"Now part your legs a bit more," he said.

"The hell I will," I muttered.

He didn't try to make me. His hand just lifted and came down in another spank. His hand was hard and it felt awfully big. I'll swear it covered my entire bottom. He didn't lift it for another spank immediately, preferring to rub his hand over my bottom.

And over my mound, I found. I could have sworn I hadn't moved my legs apart but he seemed to have room to slide his hand between them, cupping my mound and giving it a rough little rub. Then his hand was gone and I squeaked, knowing it was on the way down with another spank.

It seemed to go on for ages. One hand was fondling and teasing my breasts, tweaking my nipples and keeping them erect, while his other hand was either bouncing off my bottom or massaging my mound. There was no discernible pattern. I never knew from one moment to the next if I was about to be pleasured or pained.

The actual spanking finally wound down and stopped. Now he was just massaging my pussy, playing with me, having some fun. His fingers were dipping inside me now, stirring me up. I was squirming about, feebly protesting, but I would have been astounded if he'd actually stopped.

So I was suitably astounded when he suddenly swung me up off his knee and stood me on my own feet, wobbly knees notwithstanding. I wasn't surprised for long though.

The chair that he'd grabbed had been next to a table at the side of the room. I used that table to sort the various files. Now it appeared I was going to use it for something else.

"Bend over the table," he said, speaking quietly.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

For crying out loud. I couldn't believe I asked that question again. I wanted to slap myself. I knew damn well what he was going to do unless I gave him a very firm NO!

I didn't just go and bend over the table like some wimp. I protested, defending my honour.

"Listen, I don't do this sort of thing," I explained. "It's just not on."

He simply shrugged and stood up. Then he took my dress from where it was bunched up around my neck and lifted it and my bra over my head. I'd already managed to kick off my panties and pantihose during the spanking, so I was now standing there naked.

"Now it's not on," he said, giving me a smile that made my tummy turn over.

He took my arm and urged me over to the table and the next thing I knew I was bending forward over it. I was twisting my neck around trying to see what he was doing, and I saw his trousers go sailing down. I stared at what was revealed for a moment and then hastily turned away, flushing. Did I mention his large hands? His feet were probably very large as well. That's all I'm saying.

"Um, sir, I really don't do this sort of thing," I muttered.

He'd eased up behind me and he was rubbing back and forth along my slit, dragging himself along my lips. And it wasn't his hand that he was using to rub against me, either.

"Are you saying that you're a virgin?" he asked, sounding disbelieving.

"Um, not exactly."

Ha! He should know. His fingers had explored me quite thoroughly internally. If I'd had an intact hymen he'd have noticed all right.

"So you do do this sort of thing," he said, laughing.

Well, maybe I did and maybe I didn't, but I certainly hadn't with something that size, though I wasn't going to admit it.

Now the head of his weapon was banging lightly against my lips. Just little prods that weren't strong enough to force their way in, but were certainly giving me notice of what was about to happen. Damn it. All I had to do was say NO, loudly and clearly and that would be the end of it.

I opened my mouth to say something, but at the same time his fingers twitched, moving my lips apart and his next prod was pushing past them and his cock was pushing into me. What I finished up saying was something like, "Ah, ah, aahh," in a rising crescendo as I felt him pushing firmly along my passage.

OK. I wasn't a virgin. I had a boyfriend and I'll admit that we'd experimented a time or two. Maybe even a little more than that. But still, my experience was somewhat limited. Not so with the MD. He knew exactly what he was doing. There was nothing fumbling or tentative about his efforts. From the moment his fingers slipped my lips slightly apart his cock was in firm control. It came pushing into me with no hesitation or worries that he shouldn't be doing this or is this hurting. I could feel him in me, driving confidently deep into me, apparently totally certain that I was both ready and able to take him.

I didn't know whether to be pleased or irritated that he was right. Irritation at his arrogance lost out, barely, to the pleased knowledge that he was treating me as a woman, not a delicate maiden who had to be coaxed. I even found myself pushing back against him, helping to drive him home. With just that first firm thrust he finished up with his groin slapping hard against me, leaving me fully impaled on his cock.