Company Worker

"Meryl, would you be so kind as to stop by my office after work, please?"

An innocuous little statement but there was so much more behind it. The man who had called me was the CEO of the company. A man who was theoretically in my employ. I say theoretically because we both knew who actually ran the company and the power, and it wasn't me. I was just the putative owner, a worker in the company, learning the trade as it were under the master. I would eventually inherit the company in its entirety but until then Brandon was my trustee and actually had control.

Please understand that I had no objection to the way he ran the company. It was absolutely thriving under his aegis, making a respectable profit. Where my problem came in was learning the ins and outs of the company. I had absolutely no head for it and wouldn't dream of trying to take over, even when my guardianship lapsed. Brandon, on the other hand, had been instructed by my dear departed father to make sure I knew how to run the place and he was following his instructions, my father's dead hand reaching out to try and control my life.

That was an ongoing issue between Brandon and myself and I think I was beginning to persuade him around to my viewpoint. Why should I run a business badly when I could become a teacher? I love teaching and I'm good at it. If I could I'd ditch the company today and get a teaching job. Still, I'd work on it.

"Um, what's it about," I asked cautiously.

"Oh, I think you know," he said, and hung up.

I knew all right. I just didn't think that he knew. I wonder is someone had ratted me out. There'd been an incident on the factory floor. Totally not my fault and no-one had got hurt.

Well, maybe it was a little my fault and the no-one hurt bit only counted if you don't consider the poor man who wet himself. I'm sure his feelings were hurt. But really, there was no need to make a fuss about it and I suspected Brandon would.

After work had finished for the day I got ready to go and see Brandon. Really, what could he do to me apart from yelling a bit? Nothing, that's what, and all I had to do was look contrite and everything would be sweet.

Um, remember last time and what you said and what he said, a little voice prompted me. That was nothing, I told myself firmly. He was just feeling irate and expressing that. He wouldn't really follow through.

What had happened after the last little incident, again, not really my fault, was that I'd challenged Brandon while he was yelling at me. I effectively told him that there wasn't anything he could do to me as I was the owner. He'd given me this truly evil smile before he replied.

"If I find that you're the cause of another accident I will put you across my knee and paddle your bottom until you have to work at your desk standing up for the next week," he'd said, and he'd certainly sounded as though he'd meant it.

"You wouldn't dare," I'd huffed and he'd just laughed.

"Try me and see if I dare," he said and chased me out of his office.

As I approached his office I couldn't help but remember his threat. OK. Where Brandon was concerned it was more a promise than a threat. He wouldn't, I told myself. Remember when you were thirteen, a little voice prompted me. It was a case of ouch, I certainly remembered. I'd been a bit of a brat and was rather rude to him, knowing that even if he complained to my father he wouldn't do anything. The rotten sod had just hauled me over his knee and paddled me hard.

"Feel free to tell your father," he said afterwards, knowing damn well that I wouldn't.

Still, I told myself, there's a big difference between the thirteen you were and the eighteen that you now are. Yes, I know, another part of me said. You were a child and now you're an adult and he's a big man with rather a lot of sex appeal. Too much sex appeal.

I considered what I was wearing. A pencil type skirt that was shortish while being within company guidelines. A frilly button-up blouse that, while not actually transparent, certainly let the outline of my bra show. But still within company guidelines, I assured myself.

If, god forbid, he did try to spank me would he push my skirt up or take it down? I suspected that he'd either have to spank me with the skirt on or take it off, because I couldn't see it being pushed up very easily.

I thought of him taking my skirt down to spank me, leaving me in a rather skimpy pair of lacy panties. I felt a lick of heat in the area covered by those panties at the thought. What would I do if he decided to spank my bare bottom? Effectively naked in front of him, bent over his knee with everything exposed. Would he just spank me or would he want to touch me as well, making the spanking an excuse. I promptly decided that if he wanted to touch me he'd do so and he wouldn't use spanking as an excuse. He'd touch me simply because he wanted to and could.

At that thought a much larger flare of heat blossomed inside me. Dear god, I was getting aroused at the idea of Brandon touching me. That would never do. Remember the putative spanking, I urged myself. That made it worse for some reason. I could imagine his big hand landing on my bare bottom, those long fingers of his grazing the edges of my pudenda. If that happened should I protest or pretend it never happened? I didn't know. I don't think they had etiquette rules covering that sort of thing. Did they have rules for when a man can spank you?

When I reached Brandon's office I'd talked myself into a proper state. I'd imagined everything from a simple lecture to being stripped and beaten while naked. Then I'd wondered what would happen afterwards if I was naked. Whatever happened in that office I was flushed and aroused before even going through the door. I really wanted to turn and bolt.

I knocked and entered when Brandon yelled. He just sat behind his desk giving me a cold look.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" I asked, puzzled.

"Your explanation for what happened on the factory floor," he said. It sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth.

My immediate thought was damn, someone did rat me out.

"Well, I know that there was some sort of incident while I was down there but I had nothing to do with it," I said righteously.

"You're saying you weren't standing in a protected area, causing Sam to almost have a heart attack in his hurry to shut down the machinery?"

Oh, Sam. He was the guy who'd wet himself. Easily upset apparently.

"I didn't know it was a protected area," I said defensively. "There should be signs up warning people."

"There are. Several of them. As a matter of fact you were standing right next to one. I have, by the way, arranged a nice bonus for Sam for his quick thinking and quick action."

I nodded approvingly at that. Something like that should be rewarded.

"I've also arranged to deduct the amount from your allowance," he added, which I wasn't quite so happy about. I gave him a nasty look.

"Apart from the fact that you wander around a dangerous area like a blindfolded donkey there is one other small matter that you might care to clarify. Why were you on the factory floor in the first place?"

Well that was an easy one to answer.

"I wanted to ask the foreman how the Kerpatrick order was coming along. Kerpatrick has been complaining about the delay."

"For a start Kerpatrick always complains about a delay, conveniently forgetting that we arranged a delivery date and we will meet that delivery date. There is no delay in his order. It's just not due to be completed yet. Continuing on, there is this little devise called a phone. Instead of going down yourself all you had to do was ring the foreman and he'd have been happy to answer your question. Alternatively you could have sent him an email message. A third option would have been for you to look up the order on the computer and see what its status was. Any of these options would have removed the necessity for you to be wandering around the factory floor, something that you have been forbidden to do."

"What? When was I forbidden? Nobody told me." I was highly indignant. How could I not do something if I didn't know I was supposed to not do it?

"You were forbidden after the last incident," Brandon said. "I banned you myself and told you myself. I also put the ban in an email and sent it to you. I received the read receipt so I know you got and read the email, although it appears that the message just passed straight through your mind without sticking."

Now that he mentioned it I did recall getting that email but I hadn't thought he really meant it. Not that I'd say that because apparently he had.

"Um, sorry," I said. "Now that you mention it I do recall the memo. I'm afraid I just forgot about it."

"And because you forgot about it someone could have been badly hurt, most probably you in this case."

I apologised, trying to look humble and contrite, swearing I'd be more careful in future.

"I'm sure you will as I'm going to give you a little something to help you remember. Do you recall what I promised you if you screwed up again in a way that could cause someone an injury?"

Just like that the heat in my loins flared back into life and I could feel my nipples puckering. He was going to spank me. My bottom already felt warm in anticipation. I was blushing and as the heat in my bottom matched the heat in my face I'd guess that my bottom was blushing as well, if bottoms blush. Other parts down there do and the heat I was feeling said they were doing so.

I decided that discretion was called for now. I turned and headed towards the door with what could be called unseemly haste. A flat out run, in other words.

The door was locked. I don't know how come as I didn't lock it behind me when I came in. Brandon came strolling around his desk, smiling.

"I see that you do remember. The door lock can be controlled from my desk," he said casually. "Come here."

He settled onto the chair that I had just vacated, patting his lap.

I moved slowly towards him, not wanting to but not having any real choice.

"What are you going to do?" I demanded.

"Spank you," he said, smiling.

I swallowed nervously.

"How?"

"It's really quite easy," he said. "You bend over my knee and I smack you bottom."

"That's all?"

"That's all. Of course, I'd have to push your skirt up but that doesn't matter."

"It won't push up," I said defiantly.

"I'm glad you told me before I tried to push it up. In that case I'll let you unzip it and slide it down."

Oh my god. That was just what I was afraid of. Not only was I all hot but I suspected that I was also somewhat wet down there. I swallowed nervously and slowly unclipped and unzipped my skirt, letting it drop down. Now I was standing in front of him in my panties, what there was of them.

"Come along," he said, reaching out, catching hold of my arm, and drawing me closer.

I finished up bending over his knee, bottom up in the air, waiting with some trepidation for the beating to start.

"These are very nice," he said, "but I think they need to be removed."

With that he calmly slid my panties down, and now my bottom was bare, my pussy was on display, and my eyes were popping wide with shock.

Brandon's hand came smartly down, causing me to squeal for two reasons. The first reason was because it stung. The second was because those damned long fingers of his curved far enough around my bottom to sting the edges of my pudenda. I'd just known he was going to do that.

"Spanking is one thing," I squealed. "Don't touch me there as well."

"Where? Here?" he asked, and calmly poked me right in the pudenda. If he'd poked any harder then I have no doubt that his finger would have been sinking right down my vaginal passage.

"Yes, there," I yelled. "That's not part of a spanking."

"Yes, it is," he insisted. "You're an adult now. You can't expect to be spanked as a child."

His hand came smartly down again, raising another squeal, although he did manage to avoid slapping my pussy. That lasted for exactly one spank. I hadn't realised how far apart my legs had drifted. They had apparently drifted further apart, enough to let the next spank neatly cup my mound, and my shriek was even louder.

"Stop that," I wailed.

"You know I can't do that," Brandon said genially. "A spanking must come to its rightful end and I've only just begun this one."

He kept right on spanking me, and it hurt. He'd spank and I'd protest. He'd ignore my protest and spank again and I'd protest some more. It probably wouldn't have mattered so much if he'd just restricted his spanking to my bottom, but he didn't. His hand would land first on my bottom and then on my mound. He would also rub my mound every so often, despite me pointing out that had nothing to do with a spanking.

I was almost in tears, preventing them by sheer willpower, not wanting Brandon to see me cry. On top of that all that attention to my pussy was building up my arousal and I really thought that I might climax. Climaxing during a spanking just didn't seem the right thing to do.

He finally swung me to my feet and I stood in front of him, my hands cupping my poor bottom, looking at him rebelliously. I didn't even catch on to what he was doing, I was feeling so sorry for myself, until the third button on my blouse was undone.

"Hey," I said.

"It's OK," he said, finishing off the buttons and brushing the blouse off my shoulders, leaving me effectively naked apart from my bra. He reached around me and unclipped the bra quite expertly, brushing the straps off my shoulders and now I was standing there naked.

"What are you playing at?" I yelped and he smiled.

His hand came out and cupped my mound, squeezing and rubbing. He reached up with his other hand and lightly flicked each erect nipple, and I felt the sensation of those light flicks travel all the way down to my groin.

"It's plain that you're somewhat aroused," he explained, "and that is entirely my fault so it's up to me to do something about it. Some of us," he added in a rather supercilious voice, "accept the responsibility for things they do."

With that he was backing me up against the desk and his trousers were falling down. I was going, "But, but, but," and he just smiled.

"Don't worry. You'll find that things will go very smoothly, what with you being so aroused and all."

"No I'm not," I managed to gasp out and he casually flicked a nipple that was showing that I was a liar. Then his cock was pressing against me and into me and demonstrating the truth of his statement about things going smoothly. He slid into me as though he'd done it a hundred times before (which he most certainly hadn't), not stopping until he had me fully nailed to the desk.

"By the way," he said as he pulled back, "we've had an offer from an international company to buy us out."

He came driving back in and I screamed something like, "AAH, YES."

"It's an attractive offer and I feel it's in your interests to at least consider the offer."

He was drilling in mercilessly while I screamed yes several times. I wasn't sure exactly what I was yelling yes to, but yes was certainly my answer to everything at this point.

"If we don't sell then they'll probably buy Cunninghams. That's not as attractive a proposition for them as we are but they could pull the place together and make a go of it and then we'd be in real strife with stronger competition."

My bottom was firmly planted on the desk so I swung my legs up and wrapped them around Brandon's waist. I was clinging to him, urging him on, not that he really needed any urging. He was giving me everything he had as often as possible and I was eagerly accepting it.

He explained more about the deal and I agreed with every point he made. I'd have agreed that the moon was made of gorgonzola cheese at this point, as long as he didn't stop doing what he was doing.

Brandon was slowly building up the pressure. Um, not so slowly now that I think about it. My need was raging through me and he was just fanning the flames, pounding against me, his hands mangling my breasts under a gorilla-like grip, and then I lost it.

One final scream of yes and I was climaxing in a big way, feeling Brandon jerking against me as he let himself go. He finally withdrew, lifting me to my feet on a pair of distinctly wobbly legs.

I looked at him, breathing hard. I couldn't believe he'd done that. First he'd beaten me and then he'd effectively raped me.

I opened my mouth to berate him when the meaning of what he'd been saying filtered through.

"You're selling the company?" I asked, shocked.

"No. You are," he replied. "You're the owner remember."

I don't know if he was going to say anything else as I'd flung my arms around his neck, kissing his face and saying thank you repeatedly. The white elephant was being sold. I was free. Anything else paled into insignificance compared to that.

"When does the deal take place?" I asked. "How soon can I leave and finish my teacher's course?"

"The final contracts will be signed tomorrow, after your lawyer has had a chance to read through them. I've contacted him and he's agreed to be here first thing in the morning to go over things with you. You can consider yourself without employment the moment your signature is on the contract."

I was all smiles and headed towards the door, eager to get home and celebrate.

"Meryl, two little things before you go. First, do you want to know how much you're getting?"

"Oh, yes. I guess I do."

He told me and I was honestly shocked. I'd no idea the company was worth so much.

"What will I do with all that money," I asked him.

"I'll help you invest it and arrange for it to pay you a decent living allowance. You'll need it to supplement a teacher's income. When you're twenty one you'll have full control over it, but I expect that you'll handle it without any problems. You've quite a good brain in that pretty head of yours. The second item."

He stopped and I looked at him, glowing happily. Nothing he could say could dampen how I was feeling.

"Don't you think that you might want to get dressed before you leave the office?" he suggested.