KillerMuffin
Seraphically Disinclined
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2000
- Posts
- 25,603
A great new addition to the SDC has a little something for us to take a look at! Have any ideas or comments? Just press the reply button.
From the Author
I am seeking whatever feedback readers deem appropriate.
This is intended as the first of a series, although it should stand on its own. It is intended for the BDSM category.
Title: O'Flannery and McBrian - LC's First Day
Patrick relaxed at the office for the first time in weeks. He had finally solved his US market problem. LC was going to join the firm. Now he would finally have a chance at selling the product in his home country. The prophet might actually be accepted in his own land.
They had known each other for years, but never had a business relationship. Then one day, he realized that his company needed someone just like her to take over the management of the business. They talked; she agreed. She was ready for a career change (along with the chance to be a part owner of the company). She quit her job and was about to start work as a full, although not quite equal, partner.
He hadn’t decided on a job title yet. Of course he was the president and that wouldn’t change. He figured it would be something like "Vice President of US Operations", but that was really going to be up to her, within reason.
…
It was nice autumn day. Excitement was in the air. It'd been a long time since she’d started a new job and this one was unlike any other. There was a bustle of people in the lobby, adding to her energy. She was alone on the elevator and took a moment to dance for joy, before replacing her façade of professionalism.
The doors opened on the 15th floor. Her ears were immediately assaulted by the sound of a miniature jackhammer. A workman was repairing the marble inlay on one of the walls. The whole building had an "old money" feel to it that was accentuated by the aged cherry woodwork, brass fixtures and marble windowsills.
She left the elevator area, turned left and saw the office door almost immediately: Suite 1501. She stopped dead in her tracks. Reality had just sunk in. She hadn't expected him to get it done so quickly. The company name was already changed on the door. In nice big letters, black and gold on frosted glass, he saw: "O’Flannery & McBrian LP" Beneath it, in smaller italics, it read, "World Finest Left-Handed Flaginates".
A shiver ran up and down her spine. She was an owner… one of the bosses. Again restoring her composure, she took a deep breath, let it out and opened the door.
The first sensation was the smell of old leather; like a law office or a library. There was a large reception area with room for plenty of visitors. Several doors lead to other rooms, but her attention was focused on the young woman behind the desk. LC closed the door. Immediately, the annoying jackhammer sound was gone, not just reduced, gone.
The receptionist smiled at her confused look. "Good morning Ms. McBrian, it's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Rachael Dolan." She stood up and came out from behind the desk to shake LC’s hand.
Rachael appeared to be in her late twenties, young enough to be LC’s daughter. With a small flick of her head, she tossed her long flaming red hair back over her shoulder. Normally, LC might have found her appearance intimidating. Rachael was curvaceous but sleek, probably a size 12, and dressed in a very flattering blue skirt suit with a white, probably silk, blouse. She was maybe an inch taller than LC but that might have been due to her two-inch heeled shoes.
LC was used to sizing people up in an instant. It came with the territory. But there was something unique, something disarming about Rachael’s fresh-faced charm that she didn’t quite understand. Any nervousness LC may have felt evaporated in the warmth of Rachael’s welcome.
Before she knew it, Rachael had her coat hung up and was heading toward the coffeemaker. LC might have pegged Rachael in the "corporate representative" mold. Her graceful but efficient movements were both natural and practiced. They rounded out a very polished and attractive woman. Still, there was something different about her.
“Please have a seat and be comfortable,” she said. As LC took the soft chair near the desk, she asked, “Do you take coffee or tea, ma'am? We also have spring water, various kinds of juice and the usual soft drinks.”
”Ma’am?” That struck LC as incredibly formal for a midwestern company, especially a manufacturing firm. She filed it away for later thought.
Back to the moment… there were too many choices so she quickly decided on spring water. LC had had her morning coffee already. Rachael prepared a glass with two rough-hewn ice cubes from a leather-padded thermos, and poured water from a glass bottle. She topped off her own cup of coffee and brought both back to the desk, setting LC’s glass on the adjacent small table with a convenient coaster.
Rachael sat in an equally comfortable chair, not quite facing hers, and smiled as she said. "Our offices are sound-proofed. I hadn't realized they were doing construction work until you opened the door. It makes for a nice working environment... among other things." She ended her sentence with a barely noticeable eyebrow-flash.
LC was trying to absorb it all and Rachael sensed her uneasiness. "Don't worry Ms. McBrian, you'll get used to it. Everything here is top notch: the furniture, the facilities, the people... especially the people. You've known Mr. O’Flannery for a while, haven't you?"
She squirmed just a little, not wanting to discuss exactly *how* she knew him. Again, Rachael made it easy for her, "He mentioned that you were friends but had never worked together. I think it's great to be able to do that. Besides, from what he's told me, you're probably going to be able to take over the sales and distribution channels pretty quickly."
Taking a sip of coffee, she continued, "Actually, I think he'll probably turn over more and more of the business management to you as time goes on. He's like that. He lets people take on responsibility at their own pace. Even though you're one of the partners, I'm sure he'll let you get up to speed before dumping too much on you."
LC had to ask the question that had been welling up inside her "Is it always so formal here? Do you always call him 'Mr. O’Flannery'?"
She laughed lightly, tilting her head slightly. "It isn't formality so much; it's more a matter of 'professional image'. We're very warm and friendly but we try to maintain high standards... Speaking of which,” Rachael checked the clock, “we mustn’t keep him waiting." She stood up and LC followed suit.
As LC straightened her skirt, Rachael reached over and brushed something off of her shoulder. She walked around her, checking LC’s appearance and making one or two small adjustments. "Forgive me," she said, "I'm just so used to checking Mr. O’Flannery over before he goes anywhere... If left to his own devices, he would show up at a meeting with dandruff on his jacket and his collar rolled. I hope you don't mind if I do the same for you?"
Suddenly LC had a personal groom. It was a little strange but felt kind of luxurious. "I’m not sure yet," she confessed, “It’s all a little new.”
Rachael chuckled. “That’s OK,” she said, “let me know if it feels intrusive.” She looked at the top of LC’s head for a moment and then scanned her from top to bottom. "Just out of curiosity, ma'am, how tall are you?"
"A little less than five foot three..."
"Hmm..." she said with a frown, "there's nothing I can do for today but I'll have the shoe people stop by first thing tomorrow."
"What?" LC asked, actually raising an eyebrow.
Rachael smiled knowingly and blushed a little. "I'm sure Mr. O’Flannery will explain... shortly..." She laughed through her nose at some kind of inside joke, then turned and buzzed his office.
From the intercom, they heard him say, "Yes?"
"Ms. McBrian is here to see you Mr. O’Flannery."
"Right on time! Send her in."
"Go on in, ma'am." Rachael pointed to his office. "Good luck..." She said and tried to suppress a giggle.
Unsure of what was going on, LC walked over to the door. She quickly forgot about hidden meanings as she reached the door and Patrick opened it.
He welcomed her into his office, closed the door and gave her a big hug. "Oh, LC, this is wonderful. I'm so glad we'll be working together." Before she could reply, he looked at the top of her head, scanned her top to bottom as Rachael had moments earlier and turned immediately stern.
"Good grief! You've been in the office less than five minutes and already you're breaking the rules!"
As the stunned look on her face revealed, LC recognized his tone of voice. He had shifted into that deep, round baritone. She instinctively knew that she was about to get a spanking… but she had no idea why. She could also see him trying to maintain a stern composure. Having known him for years, she knew he was playing. He wasn’t really angry with her, but that didn’t matter. Her bottom was going to be warmed just the same. She decided to let him take the lead, as usual.
"Ms. McBrian," he said, putting a goodly emphasis on the "Ms." He’d never addressed her quite this way before. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that he was her boss now. "We have a minimum height requirement of 5' 5" for all employees. This simply will not do!"
"What,” she exclaimed, “You knew how tall I was when you hired me! Besides, I had no idea there was any such requirement!"
He walked her over to a credenza that seemed conveniently sized for someone of her stature to be bent over. "Ignorance of the rules is absolutely no excuse, young lady! From now on, you are to wear heels whenever you are on company business."
"What?" she fumed, insolently. The ‘young lady’ thing was a bit much, considering she was five years his senior. He ignored her tone and pressed his hand firmly on the top of her back, leaning her over the credenza. She struggled but it was no use. She could never resist his commands. Something clicked inside her, engaging her obedience reflex.
As she was bent over, she discovered that the height was such that her feet come off of the ground. He slid her forward, to put her hips at the edge. Her flat tummy left her bottom elevated while her breasts were just large enough to bring her forehead in slight contact with the surface.
There were two slots in the top of the credenza on the far side where she could put her hands to hold herself in position. As she slid her fingers in place, she felt the padding. It was very sturdy and the hand slots were well designed to make it comfortable for her. Obviously, this piece of furniture was designed for it’s current purpose.
Suddenly, something pressed across the backs of her ankles and tightened, bringing her legs into a 90-degree angle, straight down. She could have tried to straighten up, but her feet would have been suspended. She was off balance and needed the handholds to keep her steady. She held on for dear life, using all her strength to keep herself bent over.
The phone rang in the reception area. It was muffled but not silenced by the closed walnut door. Obviously, the internal walls were not soundproofed. "Patrick!" she whined, "She'll hear me!"
"Crack!" something hard and flat stung her bottom through her panties. She hadn't realized that her skirt was already up. "OW!" she yelled in surprise.
"You will call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. O’Flannery’ when we are working and when you are being punished. Do you understand?"
"Yes... Sir" she added at the very last moment.
"Rachael is quite familiar with our disciplinary practices here." The swats began again without warning. Despite her attempts to restrain herself, LC yelped at each of them. Oh, but she loved his voice. If only he would scold her throughout the spanking…
In the reception area, Rachael stared at the hidden console in her desk. The light switched from yellow to red, signaling that the floor was secure. Rachael had been looking forward to hearing a second female voice yelling and crying from the boss’s office. She took a long sip of twelve-year-old Scotch, set the glass down and reclined, eyes-closed, as it burned her tongue perfectly.
…Another swat landed on her bottom, then another. They really hurt. She wasn’t sure what the implement was but it was effective…
"Ow!" came another slightly muffled cry from LC. Rachael smiled as she opened her blouse and unhooked the front clasp of her bra. LC was getting much more than she bargained for in her new job. Rachael swallowed the warm mossy flavored liquid, laid her head back and tucked her left hand inside, massaging her nipple. She squeezed and pinched, hurting herself just a little to accent the cries from Patrick’s office.
…He held the ruler out where LC could see it. It was 18 inches long, as wide as a cedar shingle and thick. It was very sturdy, very heavy and it stung like Hell. It was mean, even in a gentle hand. Although it wasn’t necessary, he placed his hand on the small of her back, before beginning the main spanking. LC silently thanked him. It meant that she didn’t have to hold herself in place quite as much.
Hard swats landed on her bottom in a steady rhythm, a little faster than her heartbeat. Each of them was insistently painful, stinging her in series up and down her bottom and thighs. She squeezed the grips and pulled herself into the credenza, trying to avoid the ruler, but it was pointless. She was completely helpless…
…Rachael measured her breathing; pursing her lips and licking them as she arched her head back even farther. The chair supported her as she reclined fully and stretched her feet. Her right hand entered her skirt, careful not to dishevel her clothes. The fingers quickly reached the edge of her rosewood forest and slipped beneath the canopy, finding the damp mossy banks of her riverbed…
…LC hadn’t counted from the beginning but began to do so silently once her tears started flowing. The throbbing built up quickly, as it did whenever Patrick spanked her. She cried, humiliated that Rachael was listening and knowing that she couldn’t hold out much longer.
After less than half a minute, she cried out again, “AH!” “OW!” “OH” and then just released herself to bawling like a baby. Fifteen swats later, he stopped… temporarily.
She was not the least bit surprised to feel her panties being lowered. In fact, she had worn white lace scalloped panties for his pleasure. She had expected to keep them on until long after work, however, and never expected that spankings would be part of her employment conditions. How could he do this in an office setting, where the receptionist could hear her?
The long pause began, her throbbing bottom continuing the punishment without Patrick’s assistance…
…Rachael’s fingers were strong, forcefully pinching, deliberately hard, demanding obedience from her nipple and inner lips. It hurt… deliciously. The fingers hadn’t entered the stream yet, biding their time and building her arousal. She would wait for the sound of wood on bare skin before getting her fingers wet. Meanwhile, she felt the wave of liquor reach her thighs and calves, further intoxicating her. The smell of the drink came to her and took her deeper into the reality of the cozy highland forest in autumn…
The spanking resumed. LC’s screams increased in volume and pitch, her embarrassment increasing as her dignity evaporated. Bare bottom smacks were much worse than the preliminaries. Patrick knew her extremely well. He could make her sting terribly and never quite let her go numb. There was always a fresh place to spank, a spot left idle for a moment then rekindled.
The pain was inescapable, but liberating. It released her heart and let her true-self cry out. There was comfort in her surrender to her not-quite-lover. In this position he could take her if it suited him. If ordered to, she would give herself to him, reluctantly, but that wasn’t her desire. She wanted nothing more than for him to wring pleasure from her with his powerful hands on her exposed flesh…
…Rachael smiled, silently thanking Patrick for his skills and willingness to use them. Her fingers were dancing in the warm shallow river, bringing pleasure to the forest and mother earth. With each scream, she flicked at the banks. Then came the begging, the pleading, the humiliation… and Rachael’s release. She withdrew her fingers at the first wave of her orgasm. She hugged herself, letting the earthquake roll through her as both arms wrapped themselves around her.
One shockwave was enough… for now. The screams from the other woman’s heart filled an empty space in her own. She finally had a sister; someone to share her pleasure; someone who understood the rapture of submission to Patrick’s will. She could listen and savor the pain, drawing strength, knowing she was not alone… and laughing: silently, deeply laughing at the imagined picture of LC bent over and crying…
LC had reached her depth, bared her soul and laid herself naked. She was Patrick’s little girl again, unashamed of her childish bawling and secure in his control. Rachael could laugh all she wanted. It was worth it to be owned by Patrick.
When he finished, he released her ankles and helped her to stand. He gathered her in his arms and let her sob on his shoulder. There was a leather couch along a wall and he carried her to it, placing her on his lap. Kisses, hugs and cuddles ensued.
After a short while, she heard the door open. Rachael brought ice water, cool damp washcloths and plenty of handkerchiefs. Her poise and polish were unblemished. She caressed LC’s cheek, with her left hand, and asked her boss, "Is she alright?"
"She'll be fine in a little while...” he whispered, “She's like you. She needs some comforting and forgiveness afterward."
Rachael’s face briefly matched her hair as her own vulnerability was revealed. "Welcome to the firm, Ms. McBrian," she said genuinely, “It’s wonderful to have you here.” She quietly left the room and closed the door.
Long minutes passed as Patrick held and comforted her through her sobbing. “As long as it takes,” he whispered. He wiped her tears and cooled her face, rocking her like a crying child.
Eventually, she recovered her senses and her pride. "Patrick... oops... Sir?" she said.
"That's alright, dear, the punishment is over and we aren't working at the moment."
"Oh, Patrick, could I please have a copy of the rules?"
"Yes, my dear," he chuckled, "As long as you promise to break them on a regular basis."
Somehow, that struck her as absurdly funny.
Rachael heard their laughter and smiled, content that all had gone well. She massaged her calf muscles and checked the polish on her flat shoes. As she carefully placed her two-inch heels in the shoetree, she felt light-headed, and not from the whiskey…
From the Author
I am seeking whatever feedback readers deem appropriate.
This is intended as the first of a series, although it should stand on its own. It is intended for the BDSM category.
Title: O'Flannery and McBrian - LC's First Day
Patrick relaxed at the office for the first time in weeks. He had finally solved his US market problem. LC was going to join the firm. Now he would finally have a chance at selling the product in his home country. The prophet might actually be accepted in his own land.
They had known each other for years, but never had a business relationship. Then one day, he realized that his company needed someone just like her to take over the management of the business. They talked; she agreed. She was ready for a career change (along with the chance to be a part owner of the company). She quit her job and was about to start work as a full, although not quite equal, partner.
He hadn’t decided on a job title yet. Of course he was the president and that wouldn’t change. He figured it would be something like "Vice President of US Operations", but that was really going to be up to her, within reason.
…
It was nice autumn day. Excitement was in the air. It'd been a long time since she’d started a new job and this one was unlike any other. There was a bustle of people in the lobby, adding to her energy. She was alone on the elevator and took a moment to dance for joy, before replacing her façade of professionalism.
The doors opened on the 15th floor. Her ears were immediately assaulted by the sound of a miniature jackhammer. A workman was repairing the marble inlay on one of the walls. The whole building had an "old money" feel to it that was accentuated by the aged cherry woodwork, brass fixtures and marble windowsills.
She left the elevator area, turned left and saw the office door almost immediately: Suite 1501. She stopped dead in her tracks. Reality had just sunk in. She hadn't expected him to get it done so quickly. The company name was already changed on the door. In nice big letters, black and gold on frosted glass, he saw: "O’Flannery & McBrian LP" Beneath it, in smaller italics, it read, "World Finest Left-Handed Flaginates".
A shiver ran up and down her spine. She was an owner… one of the bosses. Again restoring her composure, she took a deep breath, let it out and opened the door.
The first sensation was the smell of old leather; like a law office or a library. There was a large reception area with room for plenty of visitors. Several doors lead to other rooms, but her attention was focused on the young woman behind the desk. LC closed the door. Immediately, the annoying jackhammer sound was gone, not just reduced, gone.
The receptionist smiled at her confused look. "Good morning Ms. McBrian, it's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Rachael Dolan." She stood up and came out from behind the desk to shake LC’s hand.
Rachael appeared to be in her late twenties, young enough to be LC’s daughter. With a small flick of her head, she tossed her long flaming red hair back over her shoulder. Normally, LC might have found her appearance intimidating. Rachael was curvaceous but sleek, probably a size 12, and dressed in a very flattering blue skirt suit with a white, probably silk, blouse. She was maybe an inch taller than LC but that might have been due to her two-inch heeled shoes.
LC was used to sizing people up in an instant. It came with the territory. But there was something unique, something disarming about Rachael’s fresh-faced charm that she didn’t quite understand. Any nervousness LC may have felt evaporated in the warmth of Rachael’s welcome.
Before she knew it, Rachael had her coat hung up and was heading toward the coffeemaker. LC might have pegged Rachael in the "corporate representative" mold. Her graceful but efficient movements were both natural and practiced. They rounded out a very polished and attractive woman. Still, there was something different about her.
“Please have a seat and be comfortable,” she said. As LC took the soft chair near the desk, she asked, “Do you take coffee or tea, ma'am? We also have spring water, various kinds of juice and the usual soft drinks.”
”Ma’am?” That struck LC as incredibly formal for a midwestern company, especially a manufacturing firm. She filed it away for later thought.
Back to the moment… there were too many choices so she quickly decided on spring water. LC had had her morning coffee already. Rachael prepared a glass with two rough-hewn ice cubes from a leather-padded thermos, and poured water from a glass bottle. She topped off her own cup of coffee and brought both back to the desk, setting LC’s glass on the adjacent small table with a convenient coaster.
Rachael sat in an equally comfortable chair, not quite facing hers, and smiled as she said. "Our offices are sound-proofed. I hadn't realized they were doing construction work until you opened the door. It makes for a nice working environment... among other things." She ended her sentence with a barely noticeable eyebrow-flash.
LC was trying to absorb it all and Rachael sensed her uneasiness. "Don't worry Ms. McBrian, you'll get used to it. Everything here is top notch: the furniture, the facilities, the people... especially the people. You've known Mr. O’Flannery for a while, haven't you?"
She squirmed just a little, not wanting to discuss exactly *how* she knew him. Again, Rachael made it easy for her, "He mentioned that you were friends but had never worked together. I think it's great to be able to do that. Besides, from what he's told me, you're probably going to be able to take over the sales and distribution channels pretty quickly."
Taking a sip of coffee, she continued, "Actually, I think he'll probably turn over more and more of the business management to you as time goes on. He's like that. He lets people take on responsibility at their own pace. Even though you're one of the partners, I'm sure he'll let you get up to speed before dumping too much on you."
LC had to ask the question that had been welling up inside her "Is it always so formal here? Do you always call him 'Mr. O’Flannery'?"
She laughed lightly, tilting her head slightly. "It isn't formality so much; it's more a matter of 'professional image'. We're very warm and friendly but we try to maintain high standards... Speaking of which,” Rachael checked the clock, “we mustn’t keep him waiting." She stood up and LC followed suit.
As LC straightened her skirt, Rachael reached over and brushed something off of her shoulder. She walked around her, checking LC’s appearance and making one or two small adjustments. "Forgive me," she said, "I'm just so used to checking Mr. O’Flannery over before he goes anywhere... If left to his own devices, he would show up at a meeting with dandruff on his jacket and his collar rolled. I hope you don't mind if I do the same for you?"
Suddenly LC had a personal groom. It was a little strange but felt kind of luxurious. "I’m not sure yet," she confessed, “It’s all a little new.”
Rachael chuckled. “That’s OK,” she said, “let me know if it feels intrusive.” She looked at the top of LC’s head for a moment and then scanned her from top to bottom. "Just out of curiosity, ma'am, how tall are you?"
"A little less than five foot three..."
"Hmm..." she said with a frown, "there's nothing I can do for today but I'll have the shoe people stop by first thing tomorrow."
"What?" LC asked, actually raising an eyebrow.
Rachael smiled knowingly and blushed a little. "I'm sure Mr. O’Flannery will explain... shortly..." She laughed through her nose at some kind of inside joke, then turned and buzzed his office.
From the intercom, they heard him say, "Yes?"
"Ms. McBrian is here to see you Mr. O’Flannery."
"Right on time! Send her in."
"Go on in, ma'am." Rachael pointed to his office. "Good luck..." She said and tried to suppress a giggle.
Unsure of what was going on, LC walked over to the door. She quickly forgot about hidden meanings as she reached the door and Patrick opened it.
He welcomed her into his office, closed the door and gave her a big hug. "Oh, LC, this is wonderful. I'm so glad we'll be working together." Before she could reply, he looked at the top of her head, scanned her top to bottom as Rachael had moments earlier and turned immediately stern.
"Good grief! You've been in the office less than five minutes and already you're breaking the rules!"
As the stunned look on her face revealed, LC recognized his tone of voice. He had shifted into that deep, round baritone. She instinctively knew that she was about to get a spanking… but she had no idea why. She could also see him trying to maintain a stern composure. Having known him for years, she knew he was playing. He wasn’t really angry with her, but that didn’t matter. Her bottom was going to be warmed just the same. She decided to let him take the lead, as usual.
"Ms. McBrian," he said, putting a goodly emphasis on the "Ms." He’d never addressed her quite this way before. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that he was her boss now. "We have a minimum height requirement of 5' 5" for all employees. This simply will not do!"
"What,” she exclaimed, “You knew how tall I was when you hired me! Besides, I had no idea there was any such requirement!"
He walked her over to a credenza that seemed conveniently sized for someone of her stature to be bent over. "Ignorance of the rules is absolutely no excuse, young lady! From now on, you are to wear heels whenever you are on company business."
"What?" she fumed, insolently. The ‘young lady’ thing was a bit much, considering she was five years his senior. He ignored her tone and pressed his hand firmly on the top of her back, leaning her over the credenza. She struggled but it was no use. She could never resist his commands. Something clicked inside her, engaging her obedience reflex.
As she was bent over, she discovered that the height was such that her feet come off of the ground. He slid her forward, to put her hips at the edge. Her flat tummy left her bottom elevated while her breasts were just large enough to bring her forehead in slight contact with the surface.
There were two slots in the top of the credenza on the far side where she could put her hands to hold herself in position. As she slid her fingers in place, she felt the padding. It was very sturdy and the hand slots were well designed to make it comfortable for her. Obviously, this piece of furniture was designed for it’s current purpose.
Suddenly, something pressed across the backs of her ankles and tightened, bringing her legs into a 90-degree angle, straight down. She could have tried to straighten up, but her feet would have been suspended. She was off balance and needed the handholds to keep her steady. She held on for dear life, using all her strength to keep herself bent over.
The phone rang in the reception area. It was muffled but not silenced by the closed walnut door. Obviously, the internal walls were not soundproofed. "Patrick!" she whined, "She'll hear me!"
"Crack!" something hard and flat stung her bottom through her panties. She hadn't realized that her skirt was already up. "OW!" she yelled in surprise.
"You will call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. O’Flannery’ when we are working and when you are being punished. Do you understand?"
"Yes... Sir" she added at the very last moment.
"Rachael is quite familiar with our disciplinary practices here." The swats began again without warning. Despite her attempts to restrain herself, LC yelped at each of them. Oh, but she loved his voice. If only he would scold her throughout the spanking…
In the reception area, Rachael stared at the hidden console in her desk. The light switched from yellow to red, signaling that the floor was secure. Rachael had been looking forward to hearing a second female voice yelling and crying from the boss’s office. She took a long sip of twelve-year-old Scotch, set the glass down and reclined, eyes-closed, as it burned her tongue perfectly.
…Another swat landed on her bottom, then another. They really hurt. She wasn’t sure what the implement was but it was effective…
"Ow!" came another slightly muffled cry from LC. Rachael smiled as she opened her blouse and unhooked the front clasp of her bra. LC was getting much more than she bargained for in her new job. Rachael swallowed the warm mossy flavored liquid, laid her head back and tucked her left hand inside, massaging her nipple. She squeezed and pinched, hurting herself just a little to accent the cries from Patrick’s office.
…He held the ruler out where LC could see it. It was 18 inches long, as wide as a cedar shingle and thick. It was very sturdy, very heavy and it stung like Hell. It was mean, even in a gentle hand. Although it wasn’t necessary, he placed his hand on the small of her back, before beginning the main spanking. LC silently thanked him. It meant that she didn’t have to hold herself in place quite as much.
Hard swats landed on her bottom in a steady rhythm, a little faster than her heartbeat. Each of them was insistently painful, stinging her in series up and down her bottom and thighs. She squeezed the grips and pulled herself into the credenza, trying to avoid the ruler, but it was pointless. She was completely helpless…
…Rachael measured her breathing; pursing her lips and licking them as she arched her head back even farther. The chair supported her as she reclined fully and stretched her feet. Her right hand entered her skirt, careful not to dishevel her clothes. The fingers quickly reached the edge of her rosewood forest and slipped beneath the canopy, finding the damp mossy banks of her riverbed…
…LC hadn’t counted from the beginning but began to do so silently once her tears started flowing. The throbbing built up quickly, as it did whenever Patrick spanked her. She cried, humiliated that Rachael was listening and knowing that she couldn’t hold out much longer.
After less than half a minute, she cried out again, “AH!” “OW!” “OH” and then just released herself to bawling like a baby. Fifteen swats later, he stopped… temporarily.
She was not the least bit surprised to feel her panties being lowered. In fact, she had worn white lace scalloped panties for his pleasure. She had expected to keep them on until long after work, however, and never expected that spankings would be part of her employment conditions. How could he do this in an office setting, where the receptionist could hear her?
The long pause began, her throbbing bottom continuing the punishment without Patrick’s assistance…
…Rachael’s fingers were strong, forcefully pinching, deliberately hard, demanding obedience from her nipple and inner lips. It hurt… deliciously. The fingers hadn’t entered the stream yet, biding their time and building her arousal. She would wait for the sound of wood on bare skin before getting her fingers wet. Meanwhile, she felt the wave of liquor reach her thighs and calves, further intoxicating her. The smell of the drink came to her and took her deeper into the reality of the cozy highland forest in autumn…
The spanking resumed. LC’s screams increased in volume and pitch, her embarrassment increasing as her dignity evaporated. Bare bottom smacks were much worse than the preliminaries. Patrick knew her extremely well. He could make her sting terribly and never quite let her go numb. There was always a fresh place to spank, a spot left idle for a moment then rekindled.
The pain was inescapable, but liberating. It released her heart and let her true-self cry out. There was comfort in her surrender to her not-quite-lover. In this position he could take her if it suited him. If ordered to, she would give herself to him, reluctantly, but that wasn’t her desire. She wanted nothing more than for him to wring pleasure from her with his powerful hands on her exposed flesh…
…Rachael smiled, silently thanking Patrick for his skills and willingness to use them. Her fingers were dancing in the warm shallow river, bringing pleasure to the forest and mother earth. With each scream, she flicked at the banks. Then came the begging, the pleading, the humiliation… and Rachael’s release. She withdrew her fingers at the first wave of her orgasm. She hugged herself, letting the earthquake roll through her as both arms wrapped themselves around her.
One shockwave was enough… for now. The screams from the other woman’s heart filled an empty space in her own. She finally had a sister; someone to share her pleasure; someone who understood the rapture of submission to Patrick’s will. She could listen and savor the pain, drawing strength, knowing she was not alone… and laughing: silently, deeply laughing at the imagined picture of LC bent over and crying…
LC had reached her depth, bared her soul and laid herself naked. She was Patrick’s little girl again, unashamed of her childish bawling and secure in his control. Rachael could laugh all she wanted. It was worth it to be owned by Patrick.
When he finished, he released her ankles and helped her to stand. He gathered her in his arms and let her sob on his shoulder. There was a leather couch along a wall and he carried her to it, placing her on his lap. Kisses, hugs and cuddles ensued.
After a short while, she heard the door open. Rachael brought ice water, cool damp washcloths and plenty of handkerchiefs. Her poise and polish were unblemished. She caressed LC’s cheek, with her left hand, and asked her boss, "Is she alright?"
"She'll be fine in a little while...” he whispered, “She's like you. She needs some comforting and forgiveness afterward."
Rachael’s face briefly matched her hair as her own vulnerability was revealed. "Welcome to the firm, Ms. McBrian," she said genuinely, “It’s wonderful to have you here.” She quietly left the room and closed the door.
Long minutes passed as Patrick held and comforted her through her sobbing. “As long as it takes,” he whispered. He wiped her tears and cooled her face, rocking her like a crying child.
Eventually, she recovered her senses and her pride. "Patrick... oops... Sir?" she said.
"That's alright, dear, the punishment is over and we aren't working at the moment."
"Oh, Patrick, could I please have a copy of the rules?"
"Yes, my dear," he chuckled, "As long as you promise to break them on a regular basis."
Somehow, that struck her as absurdly funny.
Rachael heard their laughter and smiled, content that all had gone well. She massaged her calf muscles and checked the polish on her flat shoes. As she carefully placed her two-inch heels in the shoetree, she felt light-headed, and not from the whiskey…
)
