“Samantha? In my office please”
It wasn’t often that Samantha Parker —Sam to her friends and most of her colleagues— was called to her boss’ office, and the call from across the open-plan floorspace startled her.
The plump, 25 year-old brunette took her earbuds off, got up, blushing, and quickly trotted her way to her boss’ door, all the while trying to ignore the bemused and quizzing looks that people were giving her. Summoned into the principal’s office in front of the whole class, that was what it felt like.
She knocked on the door, despite it being open.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Lawson?” she asked, timidly. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and her work had been as good as always, so why did it feel like she was in trouble? God she felt like an idiot. Have a bit of self-confidence, Sam! she told herself. If only it were that simple…
Mr. Lawson gestured for her to come in. “Close the door,” he added. She did as told, and approached the desk that was taking most of the space in the busy office.
“Have a seat, Samantha,” her boss said with another wave of the hand towards the furniture, and again she did as told. The chair was comfortable, if a bit small for her round behind. She crossed her hands on her lap, not knowing what to say. Several seconds went by. Mr. Lawson was looking away at his computer screen, the clicks of his mouse and the ticks of a clock that she could not see were the only sounds breaking the heavy silence.
Finally, with one last click, he turned to her, took his glasses off and pinched the brow of his nose. He looked at her, “Honestly, Samantha, I don’t know what to say.”
“A-about what, Sir?” Sam asked, worried. What was he on about? was she actually in trouble?
“You’ve been a good employee, very good record, good numbers…” Mr Lawson continued.
“Thank you sir…?” she said hesitantly. It did sound like there was a but coming…
“But,” he began —there it was—, “I don’t know what to make of this I.T. report I just got.”
“I.T., Sir?” Sam asked again, “I don’t really do I.T., I’m sure you know? I do marketing and—”
“I know what you do,” he interrupted, “But you do it all on company computers and phones, correct?”
“Well, yes…” Sam said, still unsure where this was going, though a knot of worry was forming in her belly.
“And you know it’s all monitored, yes?” her boss asked, his gaze unflinching. The knot got bigger, tighter.
“Of course…” she said in a small voice. The pieces were starting to fall into place but surely there was no way that—
“Even the incognito windows in your browser… Yes…?” her boss pressed on, his piercing gaze unflinching.
Samantha blushed like she had never blushed before. Oh no, no, no, she thought, not the private windows… That was safe, right? Nobody could see that… surely? She opened her mouth to reply but nothing was coming out.
Mr Lawson sighed, “I think you’re beginning to see the issue?”
She closed her mouth and swallowed.
“‘Archive of Our Own’, is it?” he asked, “What a strange name for a website… They tell me here it’s… stories? Fan-fiction, whatever that is?”
Sam nodded, looking away. Mr Lawson continued, “But it’s not just any kind of stories you were reading during work hours, miss Parker, was it? More of the… Well, you know the kind.”
Again, all that Sam could do was nod shyly, looking down at the floor, blushing. She didn’t want him to list the various degrees of depravity that she enjoyed reading about. There were lots of tags that she enjoyed, none of which she would like to admit to, most of which revolving around discipline, punishments and naughty girls getting their comeuppance. How ironic, she thought.
But Mr Lawson was not done yet, to her great dismay. He looked back at his screen and scrolled down. “And then there is the matter of…” he took a deep breath, “Spanking-tube-dot-com?” He paused a moment, seemingly taken aback that the words had even left his mouth. He looked back at Samantha, who was squirming in her chair, all manners of thoughts racing through her head.
“Miss Parker?” he said.
“Yes…” she managed to squeak, still not looking up, “I’m… I’m sorry Sir…”
“You’re sorry,” he echoed.
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I… I wasn’t thinking…”
“No, you clearly weren’t… You work in marketing, right? What do you think this does to your image, to your personal brand, so to speak?”
“Nothing good…” Sam said.
“Nothing good,” he echoed again.
“Are you… Am I getting fired?…” she asked, a few tears now rolling down her bright red cheeks.
“Misuse of company property is quite a serious offence…” he said, ominously.
Sam covered her mouth with her hand, holding back a cry.
“However,” Mr Lawson continued, “given the circumstances I think there is another way we can deal with this… indiscretion. Or indiscretions, plural, I should say…”
Sam finally looked up. “Anything, Sir, I’ll do anything!”
Her boss got up and cleared his throat, “Well then, I think it is fitting that given your… track record… you should see what all you’ve been reading is actually like. No?”
The cogs were turning in Sam’s head. “Do you mean…”
“A spanking, yes. Over my knees, right in this office,” he said, and instantly Sam felt a warmth spreading between her pressed legs. She chewed on her lip, her heartrate shot up, and she could have sworn her eyelashes futtered for an instant.
“Oh but, Sir…” she tried to plead, unconvincingly. What was there even to say? Please don’t punish my round, pale, deserving, naughty bottom, Sir? was probably not going to cut it, and it was all that she could think of right now.
“You can take it or go and pack your desk, Miss Parker. I think you are well-positioned to understand that there should be consequences to one’s actions, yes?”
Suddenly, all these stories, all the fantasy felt very real. A spanking, really? On her boss’ lap? That sounded like the premise of too many videos that she had stroked herself to. On company time, maybe, but that didn’t hurt anyone… Well, except her bottom, if they went through with it…
Her boss looked at his watch. “Well? What is it to be?”
“I… I—” Sam stammered.
“You’ve been naughty, haven’t you, miss Parker?” he said, and the way he said it, the little smile he was wearing betrayed how much he was enjoying this. Shit, she had fantasised about this exact scenario before. In fact, she had daydreamed about her boss’ large, callous hands taking her and—
“Y-yes…” she heard herself say,
“Yes who?” he said, sternly. Shit, shit, shit, he knew exactly what he was doing! Was he… was her boss a spanko?!
“Yes, Sir!” she said, as if they had done it a thousand times before.
“And naughty girls get punished,” Mr Lawson said. He was not asking.
“Yes, Sir,” she said again, feeling her breathing deepen and quicken. She felt the familiar warmth spreading now. She knew that she was as wet as she was ashamed. And she was very, very ashamed. “Will you s-spank me on my b-bare bottom, Sir?” she asked, looking up at him, simpering a little. This was all a game to him, wasn’t it? He knew what she wanted…
“Is there any other way?” he asked, moving his chair away from his desk and tapping his lap.
“No, Sir,” she said, smiling now, biting her lip. She got up and went to him. “Should I take it off now, Sir?” she asked, her hand on her hips, doe eyes looking sideways. Two could play that game.
“Don’t be so hasty,” he said, “we have all the time we need… We’re on company time”
And with a smile she lowered herself upon his lap for the punishment that she had dreamed of for a lifetime.
