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Click hereI was folding the laundry when my master called me into his office. He sat at his desk with a hard look on his face. His personal assistant, Jill, sat on a corner of the desk in a short pencil skirt and half unbuttoned blouse, her long, perfect legs crossed at the knee and her blonde hair up in a bun.
"Anabelle," he began. "I am disappointed in you."
My heart sank and I dropped my gaze to the floor.
"Do you know why I am disappointed in you?"
I thought furiously. I hadn't served him any food cold or overdone for some time. I had kept the house clean. I hadn't balked at any of his commands. There had to be something.
I nervously smoothed my hands over my skirt. Today it had pleased my master to dress me as a schoolgirl in a short, plaid, pleated skirt, white stockings with shiny black shoes, a short sleeved button up shirt, and pigtails. My master loved me in pigtails.
I finally had to admit defeat and shook my head.
"I don't know, Sir."
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you," he snapped, and I raised my gaze but didn't meet his eyes.
"Do you have any idea how long it's been since you wrote a story?" he questioned sternly.
That took me by surprise.
"I- I..."
"Jill, how long has it been?"
She consulted her notepad.
"Almost nine months, Sir," she told him.
"Nine months, Anabelle. Nine months! That is unacceptable!"
"I- I'm sorry, Sir. I'll get started on one right away..."
"That will not do," he interrupted me. "Don't think you can just apologize and go on your merry way. No, you have to be punished for this."
"Y-yes, Sir. Of course."
"Come here." He patted his leg. I approached him and stood somewhat uncertainly. Then he suddenly turned me over his knee, flipping me upside down so fast that I lost my breath. He flipped up the back of my skirt and smoothed a hand over my exposed bottom.
"Now, you know why I'm going to do this?"
I nodded.
"Tell me."
"Because I haven't written for nine months," I replied.
"Because you've been lazy!" He punctuated the last word with a sharp spank.
I gasped, then nodded.
"I've been lazy. I'm sorry, Sir. I've been lazy and haven't written and I deserve punishment."
"You do deserve punishment," he agreed. "You deserve to be spanked." Another strike.
I jerked.
"Yes. Yes, I need to be spanked."
He did not speak again. Instead, he began spanking in earnest. Five, six, seven, left side, right side, twelve, thirteen. I lost count as the blows fell. I clutched at his leg, biting back cries of pain.
When he stopped, I found that I had been holding my breath. I let it out in a rush as the pain subsided into a warm burning spreading across both cheeks. He pulled me up to sit properly on his lap, and I grabbed at his shoulder to steady myself, a bit lightheaded from dangling upside down.
"Now, have you learned your lesson?" My master looked me in the eye.
I nodded.
"Yes, Sir. I will not be lazy. I will write you a story."
He nodded.
"Now I'm a fair man. I believe in a little sweetness after punishment." He lifted me to sit on the edge of his desk, the cool wood like a balm on my reddened flesh. He stood and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock.
I felt a gentle tug on my shoulders and glanced back to see Jill pulling me back to lean against her ample chest. She unbuttoned my shirt and slid a pale hand in to caress my breasts while my master lifted my skirt, pulled aside my panties, and entered smoothly.
I sucked in a breath as he filled me. I closed my eyes and relaxed, feeling Jill's soft touches on my breasts, her fingers toying with my nipples. I felt her sweet breath on my face and gentle kisses on my brow. My master gripped my thighs, reaching up a hand to run it over my belly as he thrust into me. The motion on the desk made my sore backside sting again, but that only served to heighten the pleasure.
It wasn't long before my master was pumping hard, panting and digging his fingers into my legs. I opened my eyes to look at him, the intense look on his face, his dark hair falling across his eyes, the powerful motion of his muscles as he took me. I gasped in surprise and pleasure as I suddenly tipped over the edge of ecstasy, wrapping my legs around him. He was close on my heels, plunging into me one last time with a long sigh, his eyes closed, face upturned.
I lay on the desk catching my breath while he cleaned up with a tissue Jill handed him and pulled his pants back up. As he fastened his belt, he gave me a pointed look.
"Well? Don't you have some writing to do?"
I jumped up off the desk.
"Yes, Sir. Right away," I told him and slipped out the door.
Standing desks and treadmill desks are all the rage now, don'tcha know!
I hope so. But how're you gonna sit down and write with your bottom so sore?
What is with the jerky anon comments though?
A little over the knee spank and a fucking? How about sitting her down on a nice wooden stool with a fat dildo up her ass to keep her company while she writes?