It was now one week left until the Friday when Archibald Combs, CEO, would celebrate his fortieth birthday. His wife Camilla had decided to surprise him by having his office decorated with bright banners and confetti before he arrived, and had enlisted the aid of Marsha, his secretary. Camilla invited her over that Friday evening, as Archibald would be out of town all weekend, and they could plan their little surprise in perfect peace.
Marsha Sutton was a slim, short brunette in her late twenties. In secret, she had always felt a little intimidated by her boss' wife; Camilla was a tall, attractive redhead who always dressed her best, and there was something powerful, almost regal, in her bearing. Next to her, Marsha had always felt flat, drab, and boring, but Camilla had always been nice to her and done her best to make her feel comfortable. It seemed she could sense something of the younger woman's nervousness.
They sat in the Combs' living room, and Camilla had just poured her a cup of tea. Over the course of their conversation, Marsha had shared some humorous stories from the office, and they were discussing how they would brighten the office on the morning of the big day, and who would buy which decorations, when Camilla's phone rang. She smiled when she saw it was her husband. Placing the phone on the table, she hit the speaker button, intending to share some of the stories about him she’d just heard.
"Hello, Archie. You know, I've just heard the funniest tale from –"
"Hello, Camilla." He chuckled gently. "You know, I just had an idea. You know that red lingerie you bought recently? I think you should wear it when I spank you on my birthday – I will make your bottom match the wrapping."
Marsha let out a squeal, blushing beet red. She buried her face in her hands, peeking at Camilla through her fingers; this did not sound like a conversation she should be overhearing. He obviously didn’t know his wife was not alone.
Camilla quickly moved her hand towards her phone, about to turn off speaker, but then she glanced at the secretary. She grinned as she studied the red face peeking out at her, and she sat back again, leaving the phone untouched.
"What was that sound?" Archibald asked suspiciously.
"Must have been the kettle," Camilla answered calmly. "I had just sat down for a cup of tea when you called me."
"You just sit down all day, don't you?" he scolded, but in a teasing tone that removed the sting from the words. "That's why I need to spank you; I'm sure you'll get a lot more done when you're too sore to sit."
Camilla pouted. "You know, it's YOUR birthday. Shouldn't YOU be the one getting the spanking for once?"
He tutted. "Now, what do you think the chances of that are, little girl?"
"Not happening?" she guessed.
"Not happening," he confirmed. "Now, any particular implements you'd like to feel caress your curves? I could pick up a new bath brush tomorrow, if you want."
She winced. "Now, dear, you know those sting too much for my delicate derriere. Your belt or my hairbrush will be more than enough – in addition to that delightful hand of yours, of course."
He chuckled again. "As you wish – though I think it will be the belt AND the hairbrush for such a big day. See you on Sunday. I love you."
"Love you too," Camilla said as she hung up the phone. She glanced over at the secretary, who was blushing crimson and seemed about to faint. Camilla smiled at her. "Did you enjoy that little peek into our private life?"
"Of course not!" Marsha insisted, vehemently shaking her head.
"Tut, tut," Camilla said, imitating her husband's tone. "No lies, young lady. I could tell from the light in your eyes as he spoke that this was scratching some itch. You've thought about spankings before, haven't you?"
As usual, Camilla proved to be far more perceptive than Marsha was prepared for. Truth be told, there was something she had always found appealing about the concept of spankings. She’d never acknowledged those feelings, but they’d remained in her subconscious, like a distant ache that never quite left her.
When she didn't respond, Camilla leaned closer. "Haven't you?" Unwilling to trust her voice, Marsha nodded. Camilla chuckled. "I thought so. This is some dark fantasy you haven't dared to explore yet, am I right? There is something hungry in your eyes."
Marsha blushed and looked at the floor, but she nodded again.
Camilla grinned. "You've heard about the spanking I'm going to receive for being such a bad, bad girl," she said. She leaned even closer to the fidgeting secretary, and her next words were delivered in a soft, gentle whisper. "Would you like to watch it?"
It was Archibald’s birthday, and he was about to end the workday and go meet his wife. Before leaving the office, he smiled as he looked at the paper banners and confetti that covered his desk; it seemed that his secretary had been quite busy. Apparently, she'd had some help from his wife. A nice surprise for his birthday, he decided – they both knew how to brighten his day. Before heading out, he made sure to thank Marsha for the surprise, and she returned his smile and told him she hoped he enjoyed the rest of his big day. As he left, he grinned to himself as he thought about what would happen at home.
Camilla had booked at table at his favourite Italian restaurant, where she was waiting for him in a lovely black dress. She leaned back and tossed her hair seductively, and he could just see the fringes of the red lingerie she was wearing underneath, stirring his blood. They enjoyed a pleasant birthday dinner, with some rather nice wine, and took a taxi back home, where his favourite part of the birthday celebration would take place.
Camilla had placed the tall armless chair in the centre of the living room, ready for him. He sat down, preparing to take his wife across his lap and spank her soundly. As he gazed at his beautiful wife, mentally preparing to give her what she needed, had no idea that a few feet away, in the guest bedroom, his secretary was sitting on the floor, looking through the keyhole and watching their every move.
His wife had given Marsha a spare key, and while the couple were enjoying their birthday dinner, she’d found the hiding place the two women had previously selected. From here, she would be excellently placed to see everything that happened in the living room.
Archibald started to scold his wife for her laziness as she stood before him, hands at her sides, meekly staring at the floor. Marsha was amazed by the transformation – the tall, proud woman had been reduced to a fidgeting schoolgirl about to go over daddy's lap. His deep voice spoke harshly, driving his wife further into the submissive headspace she craved. Marsha gaped; she never knew her boss could be so strict.
After a few minutes of lecturing, Archibald patted his thigh. Obediently, his wife placed herself over his lap, with her bottom raised as high as possible. The chair was quite tall, so despite Camilla's height, neither her feet nor her hands touched the floor. She would dangle helplessly as he spanked her.
Archibald started to caress the seat of her dress, gently rubbing in circles as he continued to lecture her. Occasionally, he would give her a pinch or a squeeze, as if testing the surface that he was about to spank. In her hiding place, Marsha bit her lip to stifle a moan; this was the most erotic thing she'd seen in her sheltered life.
He lifted his hand, delivering a hard smack that rang out loudly. Camilla did not stir, suggesting that she was used to such treatment. An equally hard smack landed on the other cheek, followed by a dozen more.
Soon, Archibald developed a rhythm, his firm palm moving from one cheek to the other. Every slap was hard and fast, the loud sound of his hand echoing in the quiet room. Marsha watched Camilla wincing and biting her lip in pleasure and pain, and the secretary could not resist the urge to slip her hand into her panties. As she watched the spanking unfold, she began to pleasure herself.
At this point, Archibald decided to raise the hem of his wife's dress, revealing the red lingerie that she'd described so vividly to Marsha. Her cheeks were only beginning to turn rosy, and were thus far paler than the surrounding fabric. Marsha felt a tinge of envy as she looked at the woman, wishing that her own bottom looked half as good. Or that she could afford lingerie like that.
Her boss seemed to be egged on by the sight of his wife's lingerie-clad backside, as he started to spank even harder and faster than before. The hard smacks left red handprints on her cheeks, and as the sting grew, she began to squirm a little. The occasional yelp would escape her lips, and there were hints of tears in her eyes.
When he grabbed the waistband of Camilla's panties and whisked them down, Marsha decided to lower her own as well, to get easier access to her throbbing sex. With her fingers deep inside herself, she watched Archibald gently caress his wife's naked, quivering bottom, and as he lifted his hand and began to slap her, she could not stifle a deep moan.
A moan that Archibald heard.
"What was that?" he asked suspiciously.
"I moaned," his wife purred. "You have that effect on me, you know. I'm allowed to moan, aren't I? Or maybe I'm not – you should probably punish me harshly for it…"
"No, that wasn't you," he insisted, lifting her to her feet. "I've heard you moan before, many times, and that wasn't it."
"Maybe the pipes?" she insisted, trying to stop him as he headed for the door to the guest bedroom.
As he whisked the door open, Marsha should probably have been thankful that the door opened outward, as she would otherwise have been smacked hard in the face by the doorhandle. As it was, the only thing she could think about was her current condition.
She looked up at the shocked, angry face of Mr Combs, and she wondered what you say to your boss when he finds you in his home, masturbating on the floor as you watch his private time with his wife. This had not been covered by any work training she'd had.
"Miss Sutton. Would you kindly explain what the hell you're doing?" he said, his voice revealing that he was barely containing his rage.
She rose to her feet. "I-I'm very sorry, Mister Combs. I was just…." She stopped. She couldn't think of any lie that would explain her presence, and the truth should be fairly self-evident. She was pretty certain he knew exactly what she'd been doing.
"You were just hiding in my house, spying on me and my wife." He looked at her panties, which were still around her ankles. "While pleasuring yourself."
"Y-yes, sir," Marsha admitted. "Sorry, sir."
Marsha had been impressed with the scolding he'd given Camilla, but that was nothing compared to the reprimand she faced. Partly because it was now aimed at her, but mostly because her boss was genuinely angry.
She didn't know what was worse – the guilt she felt about what she'd done, or the embarrassment of being caught. She began to wonder what he would do to punish her – he'd already proven an experienced and strict disciplinarian. She'd never been spanked before; was that about to change? As he scolded her, her hands reached back to rub the seat of her pencil skirt, and she wondered if she was scared or aroused right now. Truth be told, she was both.
It seemed his lecture was drawing to a close, and Marsha bit her lip, wondering if he'd order her over his knee, or bend her over the table and use his belt on her. Either option sounded frightfully appealing.
He sighed. "Miss Sutton, I cannot have a secretary who betrays my trust. You're fired. Get dressed and get out of my house." Having finished with the conversation, he turned to grab a bottle from a shelf, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
Marsha stared at him, stunned. She'd been prepared for a humiliating punishment at his hands, possibly with his wife watching them with a grin on her face, but losing her job? That hadn't entered her mind – though now that the fog of arousal had cleared, she could see why this was the logical decision. "Please, sir," she begged. "Please, I can't lose my job! Give me another chance. I'm sorry that –"
"Why should I?" he said, not turning around.
"Now, Archie," Camilla said gently, stepping forward and placing an arm on her husband's shoulder. Like Marsha, she still wore her panties around her ankles. "You don't have to fire this poor girl, do you? She must be crushed by guilt right now. I'm sure that if you think really hard, you can find some other way to punish her…" She grinned. "Something that would teach her a good lesson, and would be quite enjoyable for you…"
Surprised by his wife's suggestion, Archibald glanced at her to see if she was serious, then turned to look at his secretary. He regarded her for a few minutes, and she squirmed under his firm gaze. "Is that what you want, Miss Sutton? A good, hard spanking on your bare bottom?"
Marsha tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't manage it, so she stared at the floor instead. "I'll take whatever punishment you see fit to give me, sir."
"Commendable, but that's not what I asked. Is that what you WANT?"
She blushed. "I'm… it's not… I can't… I don't…"
He turned his back on her again. "Get out."
"No!" she pleaded, rushing forward. "Please, sir, I want the spanking. Please spank me, sir!"
He grinned, finally enjoying the direction this conversation was taking. "Do you? Do you really? On your knees and beg for it, then."
Marsha turned pale, but she did as he ordered. She knelt on the floor, blushing when she realized that her head was at the same height as the bulge in his trousers. This was a very humiliating position. "Please, sir. I've been a very naughty girl. Please take me over your knee and give me a good, hard spanking." If she'd had any dignity left, it would have been aching now.
Archibald chuckled. "Well, then. If that's really what you want, I guess I'll agree to give it to you." He sat back in the chair, patting his lap. "Over my knee, you bad girl."
With a feeling of trepidation, and a tummy full of butterflies, Marsha bent over his lap, and he pushed her forward to raise her bottom. Dangling over his lap, unable to touch the floor as she stared down at the carpet, turned out to be just as humiliating as she'd expected.
He grabbed the hem of her pencil skirt, whisking it up to reveal her bare bottom – she still had not pulled her panties up. He began to rub her rear gently, and she was unable to stifle a moan. He tutted. "This young lady is enjoying her punishment a little too much."
Camilla grinned. "You'd better start spanking her, then."
He lifted his hand, delivering a firm smack that had her squealing. The second smack had her kick her legs, and after half a minute or so, she was yelping. "Have you ever been spanked before, Marsha?"
"Ow! N-no, sir! Owie!"
"I thought so," he said, continuing to smack her. "I'll start off gently, then – though I hardly think you deserve it."
As his hand continued to strike her sensitive rear end, Marsha wasn't so sure that he WAS being gentle, but she decided not to tell him this, in case she was wrong and he wanted to show her what some NON-gentle spanks were like.
The spanks continued to rain down on her unprotected rear end, and Marsha squirmed and howled over his lap. This was the most painful, humiliating thing she'd ever experienced, and she wanted it to go on forever.
The warm sting in her bottom grew more and more painful, and she could feel tears beginning to roll down her face. She squealed and protested with every smack, especially when he delivered a series of slaps to the lower parts of her bottom that had her kick her legs furiously. Soon, he placed his hand around her waist to hold her in place, and she was unable to squirm out of the way of his punishing hand.
It felt like hours had passed by the time he stopped spanking her – or possibly only seconds. He had spanked her for far too long, and it was over much too quickly. The enigma hurt, but not nearly as much as her burning bottom. Her boss was rubbing her bottom soothingly, telling her that her punishment was over and that she'd taken it very bravely, though the latter was an obvious lie.
Marsha winced as she sat on Archibald's lap. The throbbing in her rear end was almost as strong as the one between her legs.
"Oh, look at how wet she is," Camilla giggled. "You know, a true gentleman wouldn't leave a woman in need like this. We should take her to bed immediately. Don't you think so, dear husband?"
He grinned at the suggestion, and Marsha smiled thankfully at the woman as Archibald picked her up gently and began to carry her into the bedroom.
An hour or two later, Marsha was cuddling up against her boss’ surprisingly hair chest. All three of them were lying naked in the largest bed that Marsha had ever seen.
Camilla smiled as she leaned against her husband. "So, did you like your birthday present, darling? I'm sorry I couldn't gift-wrap her properly. Maybe we can find some nice lingerie for her? I think we should go with pink – this innocent little girl is not ready for red yet."
Archibald looked at her thoughtfully. "Did you plan for this to happen, Camilla?" He waved his arm towards the well-spanked, well-satiated secretary at his side. "ALL of this?"
She shrugged. "Maybe," she said impishly.
"And you decided to spring it on me? You didn't think talking to me about it would be a good idea?" he said, frowning.
She pouted. "Then it wouldn't be a birthday surprise, would it?"
"And how much did SHE know about your secret little plans?"
Camilla looked a little uncomfortable. "Well… I wanted most of it to be a surprise for her as well… "
Archibald sighed. "Fetch your strap, Camilla."
Camilla stared horrified at him, but she obeyed immediately – she knew better than to object. With dread and anticipation, she retrieved a worn leather strap from a drawer, handing it reverently to her husband, then climbing over his lap without needing to be told.
As the first cracks of the strap rained down on her bare bottom, Camilla howled and squirmed, but her shrieks couldn't stop the exhausted secretary from falling asleep with a satisfied grin on her face.
Marsha Sutton was a slim, short brunette in her late twenties. In secret, she had always felt a little intimidated by her boss' wife; Camilla was a tall, attractive redhead who always dressed her best, and there was something powerful, almost regal, in her bearing. Next to her, Marsha had always felt flat, drab, and boring, but Camilla had always been nice to her and done her best to make her feel comfortable. It seemed she could sense something of the younger woman's nervousness.
They sat in the Combs' living room, and Camilla had just poured her a cup of tea. Over the course of their conversation, Marsha had shared some humorous stories from the office, and they were discussing how they would brighten the office on the morning of the big day, and who would buy which decorations, when Camilla's phone rang. She smiled when she saw it was her husband. Placing the phone on the table, she hit the speaker button, intending to share some of the stories about him she’d just heard.
"Hello, Archie. You know, I've just heard the funniest tale from –"
"Hello, Camilla." He chuckled gently. "You know, I just had an idea. You know that red lingerie you bought recently? I think you should wear it when I spank you on my birthday – I will make your bottom match the wrapping."
Marsha let out a squeal, blushing beet red. She buried her face in her hands, peeking at Camilla through her fingers; this did not sound like a conversation she should be overhearing. He obviously didn’t know his wife was not alone.
Camilla quickly moved her hand towards her phone, about to turn off speaker, but then she glanced at the secretary. She grinned as she studied the red face peeking out at her, and she sat back again, leaving the phone untouched.
"What was that sound?" Archibald asked suspiciously.
"Must have been the kettle," Camilla answered calmly. "I had just sat down for a cup of tea when you called me."
"You just sit down all day, don't you?" he scolded, but in a teasing tone that removed the sting from the words. "That's why I need to spank you; I'm sure you'll get a lot more done when you're too sore to sit."
Camilla pouted. "You know, it's YOUR birthday. Shouldn't YOU be the one getting the spanking for once?"
He tutted. "Now, what do you think the chances of that are, little girl?"
"Not happening?" she guessed.
"Not happening," he confirmed. "Now, any particular implements you'd like to feel caress your curves? I could pick up a new bath brush tomorrow, if you want."
She winced. "Now, dear, you know those sting too much for my delicate derriere. Your belt or my hairbrush will be more than enough – in addition to that delightful hand of yours, of course."
He chuckled again. "As you wish – though I think it will be the belt AND the hairbrush for such a big day. See you on Sunday. I love you."
"Love you too," Camilla said as she hung up the phone. She glanced over at the secretary, who was blushing crimson and seemed about to faint. Camilla smiled at her. "Did you enjoy that little peek into our private life?"
"Of course not!" Marsha insisted, vehemently shaking her head.
"Tut, tut," Camilla said, imitating her husband's tone. "No lies, young lady. I could tell from the light in your eyes as he spoke that this was scratching some itch. You've thought about spankings before, haven't you?"
As usual, Camilla proved to be far more perceptive than Marsha was prepared for. Truth be told, there was something she had always found appealing about the concept of spankings. She’d never acknowledged those feelings, but they’d remained in her subconscious, like a distant ache that never quite left her.
When she didn't respond, Camilla leaned closer. "Haven't you?" Unwilling to trust her voice, Marsha nodded. Camilla chuckled. "I thought so. This is some dark fantasy you haven't dared to explore yet, am I right? There is something hungry in your eyes."
Marsha blushed and looked at the floor, but she nodded again.
Camilla grinned. "You've heard about the spanking I'm going to receive for being such a bad, bad girl," she said. She leaned even closer to the fidgeting secretary, and her next words were delivered in a soft, gentle whisper. "Would you like to watch it?"
It was Archibald’s birthday, and he was about to end the workday and go meet his wife. Before leaving the office, he smiled as he looked at the paper banners and confetti that covered his desk; it seemed that his secretary had been quite busy. Apparently, she'd had some help from his wife. A nice surprise for his birthday, he decided – they both knew how to brighten his day. Before heading out, he made sure to thank Marsha for the surprise, and she returned his smile and told him she hoped he enjoyed the rest of his big day. As he left, he grinned to himself as he thought about what would happen at home.
Camilla had booked at table at his favourite Italian restaurant, where she was waiting for him in a lovely black dress. She leaned back and tossed her hair seductively, and he could just see the fringes of the red lingerie she was wearing underneath, stirring his blood. They enjoyed a pleasant birthday dinner, with some rather nice wine, and took a taxi back home, where his favourite part of the birthday celebration would take place.
Camilla had placed the tall armless chair in the centre of the living room, ready for him. He sat down, preparing to take his wife across his lap and spank her soundly. As he gazed at his beautiful wife, mentally preparing to give her what she needed, had no idea that a few feet away, in the guest bedroom, his secretary was sitting on the floor, looking through the keyhole and watching their every move.
His wife had given Marsha a spare key, and while the couple were enjoying their birthday dinner, she’d found the hiding place the two women had previously selected. From here, she would be excellently placed to see everything that happened in the living room.
Archibald started to scold his wife for her laziness as she stood before him, hands at her sides, meekly staring at the floor. Marsha was amazed by the transformation – the tall, proud woman had been reduced to a fidgeting schoolgirl about to go over daddy's lap. His deep voice spoke harshly, driving his wife further into the submissive headspace she craved. Marsha gaped; she never knew her boss could be so strict.
After a few minutes of lecturing, Archibald patted his thigh. Obediently, his wife placed herself over his lap, with her bottom raised as high as possible. The chair was quite tall, so despite Camilla's height, neither her feet nor her hands touched the floor. She would dangle helplessly as he spanked her.
Archibald started to caress the seat of her dress, gently rubbing in circles as he continued to lecture her. Occasionally, he would give her a pinch or a squeeze, as if testing the surface that he was about to spank. In her hiding place, Marsha bit her lip to stifle a moan; this was the most erotic thing she'd seen in her sheltered life.
He lifted his hand, delivering a hard smack that rang out loudly. Camilla did not stir, suggesting that she was used to such treatment. An equally hard smack landed on the other cheek, followed by a dozen more.
Soon, Archibald developed a rhythm, his firm palm moving from one cheek to the other. Every slap was hard and fast, the loud sound of his hand echoing in the quiet room. Marsha watched Camilla wincing and biting her lip in pleasure and pain, and the secretary could not resist the urge to slip her hand into her panties. As she watched the spanking unfold, she began to pleasure herself.
At this point, Archibald decided to raise the hem of his wife's dress, revealing the red lingerie that she'd described so vividly to Marsha. Her cheeks were only beginning to turn rosy, and were thus far paler than the surrounding fabric. Marsha felt a tinge of envy as she looked at the woman, wishing that her own bottom looked half as good. Or that she could afford lingerie like that.
Her boss seemed to be egged on by the sight of his wife's lingerie-clad backside, as he started to spank even harder and faster than before. The hard smacks left red handprints on her cheeks, and as the sting grew, she began to squirm a little. The occasional yelp would escape her lips, and there were hints of tears in her eyes.
When he grabbed the waistband of Camilla's panties and whisked them down, Marsha decided to lower her own as well, to get easier access to her throbbing sex. With her fingers deep inside herself, she watched Archibald gently caress his wife's naked, quivering bottom, and as he lifted his hand and began to slap her, she could not stifle a deep moan.
A moan that Archibald heard.
"What was that?" he asked suspiciously.
"I moaned," his wife purred. "You have that effect on me, you know. I'm allowed to moan, aren't I? Or maybe I'm not – you should probably punish me harshly for it…"
"No, that wasn't you," he insisted, lifting her to her feet. "I've heard you moan before, many times, and that wasn't it."
"Maybe the pipes?" she insisted, trying to stop him as he headed for the door to the guest bedroom.
As he whisked the door open, Marsha should probably have been thankful that the door opened outward, as she would otherwise have been smacked hard in the face by the doorhandle. As it was, the only thing she could think about was her current condition.
She looked up at the shocked, angry face of Mr Combs, and she wondered what you say to your boss when he finds you in his home, masturbating on the floor as you watch his private time with his wife. This had not been covered by any work training she'd had.
"Miss Sutton. Would you kindly explain what the hell you're doing?" he said, his voice revealing that he was barely containing his rage.
She rose to her feet. "I-I'm very sorry, Mister Combs. I was just…." She stopped. She couldn't think of any lie that would explain her presence, and the truth should be fairly self-evident. She was pretty certain he knew exactly what she'd been doing.
"You were just hiding in my house, spying on me and my wife." He looked at her panties, which were still around her ankles. "While pleasuring yourself."
"Y-yes, sir," Marsha admitted. "Sorry, sir."
Marsha had been impressed with the scolding he'd given Camilla, but that was nothing compared to the reprimand she faced. Partly because it was now aimed at her, but mostly because her boss was genuinely angry.
She didn't know what was worse – the guilt she felt about what she'd done, or the embarrassment of being caught. She began to wonder what he would do to punish her – he'd already proven an experienced and strict disciplinarian. She'd never been spanked before; was that about to change? As he scolded her, her hands reached back to rub the seat of her pencil skirt, and she wondered if she was scared or aroused right now. Truth be told, she was both.
It seemed his lecture was drawing to a close, and Marsha bit her lip, wondering if he'd order her over his knee, or bend her over the table and use his belt on her. Either option sounded frightfully appealing.
He sighed. "Miss Sutton, I cannot have a secretary who betrays my trust. You're fired. Get dressed and get out of my house." Having finished with the conversation, he turned to grab a bottle from a shelf, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
Marsha stared at him, stunned. She'd been prepared for a humiliating punishment at his hands, possibly with his wife watching them with a grin on her face, but losing her job? That hadn't entered her mind – though now that the fog of arousal had cleared, she could see why this was the logical decision. "Please, sir," she begged. "Please, I can't lose my job! Give me another chance. I'm sorry that –"
"Why should I?" he said, not turning around.
"Now, Archie," Camilla said gently, stepping forward and placing an arm on her husband's shoulder. Like Marsha, she still wore her panties around her ankles. "You don't have to fire this poor girl, do you? She must be crushed by guilt right now. I'm sure that if you think really hard, you can find some other way to punish her…" She grinned. "Something that would teach her a good lesson, and would be quite enjoyable for you…"
Surprised by his wife's suggestion, Archibald glanced at her to see if she was serious, then turned to look at his secretary. He regarded her for a few minutes, and she squirmed under his firm gaze. "Is that what you want, Miss Sutton? A good, hard spanking on your bare bottom?"
Marsha tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't manage it, so she stared at the floor instead. "I'll take whatever punishment you see fit to give me, sir."
"Commendable, but that's not what I asked. Is that what you WANT?"
She blushed. "I'm… it's not… I can't… I don't…"
He turned his back on her again. "Get out."
"No!" she pleaded, rushing forward. "Please, sir, I want the spanking. Please spank me, sir!"
He grinned, finally enjoying the direction this conversation was taking. "Do you? Do you really? On your knees and beg for it, then."
Marsha turned pale, but she did as he ordered. She knelt on the floor, blushing when she realized that her head was at the same height as the bulge in his trousers. This was a very humiliating position. "Please, sir. I've been a very naughty girl. Please take me over your knee and give me a good, hard spanking." If she'd had any dignity left, it would have been aching now.
Archibald chuckled. "Well, then. If that's really what you want, I guess I'll agree to give it to you." He sat back in the chair, patting his lap. "Over my knee, you bad girl."
With a feeling of trepidation, and a tummy full of butterflies, Marsha bent over his lap, and he pushed her forward to raise her bottom. Dangling over his lap, unable to touch the floor as she stared down at the carpet, turned out to be just as humiliating as she'd expected.
He grabbed the hem of her pencil skirt, whisking it up to reveal her bare bottom – she still had not pulled her panties up. He began to rub her rear gently, and she was unable to stifle a moan. He tutted. "This young lady is enjoying her punishment a little too much."
Camilla grinned. "You'd better start spanking her, then."
He lifted his hand, delivering a firm smack that had her squealing. The second smack had her kick her legs, and after half a minute or so, she was yelping. "Have you ever been spanked before, Marsha?"
"Ow! N-no, sir! Owie!"
"I thought so," he said, continuing to smack her. "I'll start off gently, then – though I hardly think you deserve it."
As his hand continued to strike her sensitive rear end, Marsha wasn't so sure that he WAS being gentle, but she decided not to tell him this, in case she was wrong and he wanted to show her what some NON-gentle spanks were like.
The spanks continued to rain down on her unprotected rear end, and Marsha squirmed and howled over his lap. This was the most painful, humiliating thing she'd ever experienced, and she wanted it to go on forever.
The warm sting in her bottom grew more and more painful, and she could feel tears beginning to roll down her face. She squealed and protested with every smack, especially when he delivered a series of slaps to the lower parts of her bottom that had her kick her legs furiously. Soon, he placed his hand around her waist to hold her in place, and she was unable to squirm out of the way of his punishing hand.
It felt like hours had passed by the time he stopped spanking her – or possibly only seconds. He had spanked her for far too long, and it was over much too quickly. The enigma hurt, but not nearly as much as her burning bottom. Her boss was rubbing her bottom soothingly, telling her that her punishment was over and that she'd taken it very bravely, though the latter was an obvious lie.
Marsha winced as she sat on Archibald's lap. The throbbing in her rear end was almost as strong as the one between her legs.
"Oh, look at how wet she is," Camilla giggled. "You know, a true gentleman wouldn't leave a woman in need like this. We should take her to bed immediately. Don't you think so, dear husband?"
He grinned at the suggestion, and Marsha smiled thankfully at the woman as Archibald picked her up gently and began to carry her into the bedroom.
An hour or two later, Marsha was cuddling up against her boss’ surprisingly hair chest. All three of them were lying naked in the largest bed that Marsha had ever seen.
Camilla smiled as she leaned against her husband. "So, did you like your birthday present, darling? I'm sorry I couldn't gift-wrap her properly. Maybe we can find some nice lingerie for her? I think we should go with pink – this innocent little girl is not ready for red yet."
Archibald looked at her thoughtfully. "Did you plan for this to happen, Camilla?" He waved his arm towards the well-spanked, well-satiated secretary at his side. "ALL of this?"
She shrugged. "Maybe," she said impishly.
"And you decided to spring it on me? You didn't think talking to me about it would be a good idea?" he said, frowning.
She pouted. "Then it wouldn't be a birthday surprise, would it?"
"And how much did SHE know about your secret little plans?"
Camilla looked a little uncomfortable. "Well… I wanted most of it to be a surprise for her as well… "
Archibald sighed. "Fetch your strap, Camilla."
Camilla stared horrified at him, but she obeyed immediately – she knew better than to object. With dread and anticipation, she retrieved a worn leather strap from a drawer, handing it reverently to her husband, then climbing over his lap without needing to be told.
As the first cracks of the strap rained down on her bare bottom, Camilla howled and squirmed, but her shrieks couldn't stop the exhausted secretary from falling asleep with a satisfied grin on her face.
Excellent story!!
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