Spanking Ms. Whitman (Play at Work) (5 page)

And the spanking! Her fantasies were nothing compared to the reality. From the moment she rested over his legs, she’d been so afraid she’d soak his pants with her juices. The woman in the mirror gave a furtive glance at the door and twisted the lock. She’d never get through the afternoon if she didn’t at least take the edge off.

It wouldn’t take long.

Keeping her eyes on her reflection, she rubbed her nipples through her blouse, imagining it was his hands on her, his fingers pinching them hard enough to hurt.
Touch me, sir. Touch me everywhere.

She abandoned her breasts and dragged her skirt up to her waist, grimacing again at the plain white panties she’d worn.
If I’m going to have encounters like today, I need to wear better undies.

But these were the ones soaked from his spanking and his touch. His fingers between her legs, before they were interrupted. If he hadn’t had to leave…what would he have done next?

Mona rubbed over the wet cotton, moaning softly. So sensitive, she didn’t need a toy. Remembering his hand slapping her ass, the rush of pleasure and pain going straight to her core. Shoving the cloth to the side, she glided a finger into her pussy and added a second, stroking in and out, imagining it was Mr. Marks.
Does that feel good, Mona? Do you want me to fuck you against this counter while you watch us in the mirror?

Oh, God.

She doubled over, trying to stay on her feet as the strongest
orgasm she’d ever had buckled her knees and clenched her muscles around her fingers. She rested her cheek on the cool marble counter, panting. She’d be able to make it through the afternoon now. As long as she didn’t think too much about what Mr. Marks had planned for his return.

Or maybe I should try and think of how to return the favor. What would it take to curl Mr. Marks’ toes?

Straightening her skirt she took one more glance and twirled. The girl in the mirror winked at her and with a laugh she flounced back to her office.

Bubbles of excitement zoomed through her veins. She’d never truly believed her staid boss would spank her, and she’d almost come with the first whack on her bottom. She tried to focus on her job and not think about lying splayed across his lap with her panties around her knees while he smacked her until his reddened handprints marked her buttocks and thighs.

Or would he bind her hands behind her with his tie? He’d tug to make sure she couldn’t slip free and lay her out across his big, shiny desk, the varnished wood cool against her naked breasts and belly, paddling her until she convinced him of her true remorse then tugging her to the edge and slamming his hard cock into her pussy from behind. Making her orgasm over and over. Making her…

She squirmed in her seat, glancing at the open door to the hallway. She could slide it closed and rub herself to another quick, therapeutic orgasm. In the name of sanity and the ability to perform her job. She stood and moved over to the door, building the fantasy in her mind that would get her off in a moment or two. Her panties were soaked already.

As she grasped the knob, her phone buzzed and she looked over at her desk, taking in for the first time the quantity of work awaiting her. Besides, she wanted to put some of her lust to work on her plan to blow
his
mind. Or his cock.
Mmmm.

Anxiety and lust warred within her as she took her seat, clicked on her screen, and lifted the receiver. No point in adding dereliction of duty to her other sins. “Mona Whitman, oh hello, Angie, no I’ve been in conference.” The heat returned to her cheeks. “Yes, with Mr. Marks. No, he wasn’t too hard on me.”
Not yet, anyway.
“No, really, it’s fine. I believe we came to an understanding before he had to go out.”

Damn that stupid lawyer and his meeting!

***

Randolph Marks reached across the desk to shake hands with Edward. He’d been pleased with the news his lawyer had to share and they’d managed to tie up most of the loose ends concerning the acquisition of a smaller competitor, but he’d been frustrated with his inability to keep his mind completely on the matter. At least twice he’d caught the man giving him odd looks and realized he’d missed something.

Completely out of character. He paid his attorney an exorbitant retainer to make sure every detail was handled properly, but his obsession with Mona and her white cotton panties occupied his thoughts. He’d never felt this way with any other woman.

Waiting for the elevator, he shook his head then grinned. Mona sprawled across his lap and at his mercy. Who’d have guessed a day that started in such an ordinary way—with his favorite employee late as usual—would take such a turn. His erection tented the front of his pants and he held his briefcase in front of him. Wouldn’t do to put on a show for anyone exiting the elevator. He’d had a stiffy on and off all afternoon—just the thought of what the evening might hold more than enough to bring it on.

Her image danced before him. Exiting the elevator, he paused at a flower kiosk in the lobby, a sudden impulse to buy flowers surprising him. He laughed and strode out to his car—he had it bad, but had no reason to assume Mona did. He’d have to take it one step at a time and not scare her off. She’d be shocked to learn she’d been the subject of his masturbatory fantasies for months. He’d stopped going to the club when he realized nobody there interested him anymore.
Hell, she’d be shocked if she even knew I belonged to a place like that. I’m sure a sweet woman like her has no idea such places exist, or would have anything to do with a man who belonged to one, even if she did.

Still, the spanking had been her idea….

I still don’t know if I locked the closet this morning…and I didn’t get to check when I left.

Chapter Six

Despite the distracting evening ahead, Mona managed to work. And by five o’clock, her ragged nerves had her jumping at any sound. Angie came in with a package and laughed when Mona leaped to her feet. As much as she enjoyed making her friend the receptionist happy, she’d begun to think Mr. Marks would find her curled in a ball under her desk, shaking. Or worse.

Mona finished up a file and clicked her screen off then leaned back to listen to the pounding feet of her fellow employees heading out for the day. Many of them would be going to Friday happy hour at the bar down the street, but she’d let Angie know she wouldn’t join them tonight. Lurking in her office to avoid explanations, she steeled herself to sit still and wait until the suite cleared. Five minutes…ten…and the last cheerful voices faded to echoing silence.

She’d heard Mr. Marks come back late in the afternoon, but had kept her attention on her computer screen. If he’d met her eyes, she would have lost the ability to maintain her professional façade. She’d worked through lunch, needing the distraction, and eaten only a small, bag of peanuts fished from the bottom of her purse. The butterflies in her stomach weren’t hungry anyway, not even after flying around all day, battering their wings against her abdominal wall.

Her phone buzzed and she pressed the intercom button.

“Yes, sir?”

“You may come to my office now, Miss Whitman.”

The butterflies flapped harder, in rhythm with her pounding heart.

I want this. I want him.
She pushed away from her desk and stepped into the darkened hallway. Someone had turned off the lights.
My legs are so shaky.

Gulping air, she put one foot in front of the other, the whoosh of the air conditioner kicking on startling her.
I have to get a grip! Fainting may be off-putting.
She slapped her hand over her mouth as a nervous giggle bubbled up from her chest.
Calm, Mona…keep it cool.

***

Randolph Marks paced the length of his office, from sofa to restroom and back again. He’d left his door ajar on his return, to enable him to hear when the last of the chattering employees fled their desks for the weekend. Then waited another five minutes before buzzing Mona. He had no doubt she remained, although he did wonder whether she shared his anticipation of the evening’s events.

Doubt underlay his emotional grid. He feared his long-time fascination with Mona might be coloring his impressions of her. As a Dom, he took pride in putting the needs of his subs first. Spanking was just s single tool in his arsenal, albeit one he enjoyed. Mona had long struck him as a sub in need of a Dom, and he’d hoped to fill that role for her.

His professional ethics had prevented him from making the first move—his Dom’s discipline supporting his decision.

So, the question before the class remained. Where were they going after today? And another…did he risk their business relationship with his rash actions. If he moved too fast, he could be making a huge mistake.

I don’t think I’d want to come here if I couldn’t see her eyes swim with tears when she’s apologizing or gleam when she’s on her game with a difficult job. I had better just finish with this punishment business, let her say she’s sorry one more time, and agree to forgive her. I’d rather rip off my right arm than lose her, even if it’s not on the terms I wish.

“Mr. Marks?” She stepped through the doorway, her heels nearly disappearing in the burgundy carpet. He noted with approval her hands clenched at her sides, eyes downcast, and a single tear tracing down her cheek. Tenderness washed over him and all his sensible decisions disappeared like smoke into a cloudy sky.

I want it all. I want her.

Mr. Marks acknowledged her greeting with a curt nod and she began the endless trek to where he waited in front of his desk.

“Lift your feet, Mona. Don’t shuffle.”

Startled, her eyes left the burgundy sea and met his level gaze. Her hands, fisted to control their trembling, shook harder, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed at the chair she’d occupied before and waited until she’d stepped—not shuffled—the rest of the way to him and planted her backside on the torturous wooden seat. She wiggled, trying to find comfort, but a sharp look stilled her.

Such an uncomfortable chair, it’s amazing no clients have complained if they had to sit here.
. Something about the wooden seat….
Dammit! I really was out of it to let this slip past me.

“This isn’t your regular guest chair!” The words flew out before she could stop them. “I’ve sat here a hundred times—maybe more—and not on this instrument of torture.”

He chuckled, the low rumbling sending goose bumps up her arms. “I wondered if you’d noticed earlier. How do you like it?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. But, he’d asked. “I don’t like it…sir.”

“Good.” He sat in his comfy leather chair, resting his elbows on the padded arms and steepling his fingers as he watched her with casual interest.

A long moment dragged by while she did her best not to move. The slats under her butt were just wide enough apart for the edge of each one to make itself known to her still-tender backside. If it was uncomfortable earlier, it was three times as bad now. She shifted to the side and threw him an apprehensive glance. To her shock, the corners of his full lips shot upward in …a grin? She looked away and back, but he watched her with seriousness and no trace of a smile remained. Perhaps she had imagined it.

“Feet flat on the floor.”

Without questioning, she uncrossed her legs.

“Sit up straight and fold your hands in your lap.” He spoke the commands in a low, carrying voice that brooked no disobedience and while her breath hitched, her core clenched. Her traitorous nipples peaked and pressed against her bra. She fought the urge to leap from the chair, rip her clothes off, and fling herself naked across his desk.

But, that wasn’t what he’d asked—told—her to do.
I only wish he would.
Her cheeks heated at the thought and burned when he quirked a brow.

“I’m tempted to offer a penny for your thoughts, but we have some matters to attend to, and I’d rather not delay.”

“Yes, sir.” Her ankle crept over its mate and she forced her foot back to the floor, holding her folded hands in her lap by main force of will.

“We began something earlier today, before we were interrupted. Do you still want to continue? I need to know whether you’ve had any second thoughts.”

“No, Mr. Marks.”

He cocked his head. “No, you don’t want to continue?”

“No, I haven’t had second thoughts..”

“For clarity, state what you expect to happen here tonight.” His gray stare unnerved her and a trickle of perspiration ran down her temple. It itched and she wanted to brush it away, but didn’t want to defy him by lifting her hands.

“I-I thought you were going to spank me.”

“Yes, we can begin there, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page. I can tell you what I have in mind, but I need your agreement before we begin. Do you understand?”

Mona couldn’t speak. She tried and to her mortification croaked out an unintelligible sound. He seemed to understand.

“Would you like some water?”

She nodded, desperate to cool her dry throat. When she moved to stand, he waved her down.