"Discipline, an office needs discipline." she insisted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It has been about two months since her second interview for the position she now holds. Impressing him in both her secretarial abilities (complemented by immaculate references) and her attire, a stylish business suit embellished by a long narrow display of deep cleavage. At the first round of interviews, she was clearly the best applicant, confused only by an apparent inability to stay long at previous positions. Even without her considerate display, he would undoubtedly have offered her the job.
During this time, the company had been particularly busy. Although they shared an office, a clumsy partition meant her desk was concealed from him. If not working together they met infrequently, usually coffee breaks. There were two other employees in another room, dropping in when needs be. Apart from occasional courier deliveries all the work was done by phone or internet, rarely were there any visitors.
The past few days' business had eased off. Small talk filled some of their time but she shared little of herself, being friendly and warm but guardedly private. The one thing that had surprised him those two months was the way she had refashioned herself almost imperceptibly from the kind of suits worn at the interview, to the current typically short skirt and tight woollen top. Too busy to contemplate it before, he thought back to the subtle changes in her clothing from one day to another. That was how she managed to turn up in today's eye-catching outfit without drawing too much attention. Other than her lunch hour, usually spent away from the office, he was the only one likely to heed her appearance and she must have thought her boss was ok with it as he hadn't said anything... until now...
"I see you have more casual clothing these days," he mentioned in passing.
"I hope sir doesn't disapprove? I'll wear whatever he decides."
They'd had a conversation about names. At the outset he'd asked her to call him by his first name but in what almost sounded like a lecture she explained the necessity of 'office discipline' she only able to refer to him with correct regard to his position of authority as her boss, tho she insisted her boss could of course call her 'whatever sir prefers'. He accepted with a bemused O...K! But since then he'd been musing; his new secretary had an intriguing turn of phrase.
Her demeanour puzzled him, clearly formal, efficient, unquestioning devotion to her work, eager to complete any task asked of her before any set deadline, sharing little about herself, to him or her office colleagues, but she was inconsistently reserved. For instance, her recent wear was decidedly provocative, indeed rather contrary. A bit of an introvert himself, he noticed the contradiction, but there was something else, something restrained and mute... something...
dark,
. Then there were the sporadic, oh-so subtle and confusing remarks she let slip. One thing he was certain of, because she declared it unmistakably, that a strict boss motivated her. Part of his job was reading people, he was good at it, hence his flourishing business. Reading her was difficult but the tacit words she spilt were leading him to form a theory, an
outrageous
one.
She was always the one to leave an employment, never dismissed, but seemingly jobs didn't hold her long, why? Perhaps they did not offer what she hoped. Therefore, she moved on... salary seemed unimportant proffered less here than her previous employment. She sought something... else. To verify his speculation he called her to his office.
"Yes sir?"
In the calm, authoritative voice of a dissatisfied superior, he abused his power.
"There is a spelling mistake in one of your letters, to an important client..." (not)
"I'm SO sorry! I don't know how..."
Cutting her short...
"...and, your skirt is too short, almost indecent. Your underwear and cheeks are on view. What if someone called, what impression does your lack of modesty give about my company?"
She blushed significantly.
"Although your work is usually satisfactory, perhaps these lapses are why you leave jobs after a relatively short time? Do you see yourself as a temp?"
"No... I..."
"Do not interrupt me."
She lowered her eyes to look at the floor and apologised. His theory gained confidence.
"I cannot overlook this lapse lest they multiply; I must put a permanent reprimand in your record. I would be duty bound to include it in any references future employers would undoubtedly ask for..."
She pleaded for her professional reputation not to be blemished. He merely admonished her yet again for interrupting, she became silently contrite.
"I simply have to punish you for this, if not a reprimand then I must think of something else. Come to see me after work."
Her moist eyes grew wider as he mentioned 'punish?'... and ...'something else?'... An, -almost- imperceptible gleeful radiance expressed itself on her flushed features. He noticed it, clearly he did, an erection commenced.
"Yes sir, thank you for your understanding sir." She had regained the self-assurance of an efficient secretary.
Time passed, he let her thoughts simmer without the relief of more work to do. He expected she would be increasingly apprehensive. At the appointed time, the others having bid their goodbyes, she entered silently, carrying files to place unnecessarily on a high shelf, lifting her skirt in the doing.
She turned nervously to her boss sitting at his imposing desk to announce she deserved whatever discipline he saw fit.
"You do." He confirmed.
"But please sir, not on my record, I'm so proud of it sir, I couldn't endure the disgrace" she pleaded.
"So what punishment would be appropriate?" he asked. "You dress like a naughty little schoolgirl so should you be punished like one, I wonder"
She began to shiver tho not of cold.
"Rather than a permanent black mark on your character, Should I be lenient with you and merely administer a few transient marks on your flesh, as a headmaster would, take the cane to you. Would you prefer that?" she seemed genuinely scared, looking down, nodding.
Precisely, he said, "Do not wave your head about girl, and ask me to do so."
Taken aback by a gleam penetrating the dark unmentionable, nervous wonderment described on her face. Desired for such a long time, is this it? Here? Now? Will this boss satisfy the unrelenting yearning? Discarding its muzzle her
thing
spoke: "please sir, kind sir, I deserve to be punished for being a bad secretary. I need a good spanking for misbehaviour. Please smack me. Best do it hard to teach me a lesson." she blurted out, biting her lower lip, shocked by her own declaration.
