Moesha the Maid

Smack. Smack. Smack. Just as her knuckles were starting to lose their grip on the desk, Mr. Ulnik stopped. Oh god, her ass felt like it was steaming! She released the wood and brought her hands toward the damage, but then an incredibly hard slap tattooed itself across both cheeks, making her yelp and kick her legs.

"Remain in the position, Ms. Clarke, I am not finished."

The professional tone was mixed with menace this time. It almost sounded scary. The word "scary" reaffirmed itself in her mind when he pulled open a well-oiled desk drawer and pulled out what looked a bit like a wooden ping-pong paddle with the rubber surfaces removed. Her eyes went wide. Her buttocks clenched, making them rise even higher above her waist. She'd had the belt before, and - more rarely - her mother's wooden kitchen spoon. But only in her naughty dreams and secret fantasies had Moesha touched an object that was used purely for spanking. She gulped. A shiver went down her spine. The inner parts of her upper thighs suddenly felt cold and clammy - oh no, not now! She tried to discretely close her legs so they couldn't see what was happening, but Mr. Ulnik put his hand between her knees and told her to keep them open.

"Relax your bottom," he added, "or else the paddle may leave bruises." Moesha shivered again as she tried to comply with his orders. The word 'bottom' wasn't something that people actually said aloud. Especially in his classy, Scandinavian accent, the word acted like a symbol of how unnatural her position was. She tried to think about something other than the sting all over her butt and the requests for attention her vagina was sending her, but they couldn't be ignored. Her nipples hardened painfully against the desk. She wished Mr. Ulnik would either let her pull her underwear up, or stop and give her just one little rub or gentle squeeze with that experienced hand of his. If she didn't stop herself, she'd even start wishing for Ben-

CRACK!

"OWWWCH!!!"

Her hands shot down to her waist and trembled as she fought to get them back under control. That little paddle did that? Oh god, fire, fire, my ass is on-

CRACK!

The other cheek got it, right on the center. Moesha drummed her high-heels against the floor, repeating a constant "ow, ow, ow" under her breath. Not even her father's angriest beltings had hurt her that much after only two licks. How many more was she condemned to receive? Six of the best? Twelve of the best? Thirty? Fifty? She had found videos online of girls who took that many paddle licks, but those were professionals.

Oh wait. That's right. I'm a professional too, now.

She felt the mess of fire and pain that had once been her bottom bounce and jiggle freely under the paddle, as he gave it to her every couple of seconds. Soon, the paddle tasted everything his palm had warmed. Twenty licks in, she could think of nothing but the pain. She started sniffling, her makeup smudged as the tears spilled through the broken dam of her pain tolerance.

She counted thirty before the final blow landed, battering the exact center of her vast target and sending her cheeks bouncing to the sides. She was sobbing - not bawling like a baby, but definitely sobbing - when she heard the paddle being placed on the desk beside her and saw Mr. Ulnik step away.

"You may rise, my dear."

She straightened up, both hands clutching her victimized buns under her skirt. Ow. Just ow. There was no mirror in the room, but she knew her laboriously-brushed hair was tangled up again and her makeup was dripping down her face. She plucked up the courage to look at Benjamin. A paranoid, pessimistic part of her - the Moesha that had endured the endless disappointments of life in the ghetto - had expected him to look smug. She felt bad for thinking that when she beheld the strain on his boyish face. His crystal-green eyes looked like they wanted to pop out of his skull to get a closer look, but he wasn't letting himself smirk or even smile. More than anything else, what she got from him was remorse. She actually felt a bit ashamed of herself now. She looked away from him again and pulled her panties most of the way back up, wincing at the pain as they squeezed her beaten ass.

Mr. Ulnik was standing by the fake fireplace, well out of the way. Moesha realized he was analyzing her, and decided to stop giving Benjamin so many meaningful stares. "Your turn now, Ms. Clarke," Mr. Ulnik said. "Mr. Callen, you remember this event from your own interview. Explain to the young lady what she must do."

Moesha looked blankly back at Benjamin, both hands still massaging her rump.

"Okay," Benjamin said, taking a baby step forward, "Moesha, well, you..." his face started turning pink, which sent an unexpected thrill through Moesha, "...you, well, you have to spank me."

His emotions were written on his face like text. Remorse. Uncertainty. Embarrassment. Moesha realized, with a sudden, unexpected thrill, that this was one of the most delicious sights she had ever beheld. Her conscience tried to argue with her, but it was no use. She drank his vulnerability through her eyes, and - despite the pain - she broke into a truly evil grin.

"Just spank him?" she asked, turning a bit toward Mr. Ulnik, "Like, throw 'im over the desk like you did?"

Benjamin's face grew even redder. "You may," Mr Ulnik answered, "or you may decide to do something else. This young fellow has asked you to punish him. What happens next is up to you."

Her grin widened. The nice, loving girl who had spent most of her life looking after her younger siblings wanted to go easy on the poor boy. Every other part of Moesha's personality, however, outvoted that girl unanimously. Oh, he wasn't going to see a show like the one Ulnik had performed and then walk away scott free! Spanking a boy...that was something she had never actually done before. The more she thought about it, the more possibilities she realized.

"Come over here!" she demanded, "Get that ass where I can smack it!"

Benjamin hurried timidly over to her, trying to look unconcerned. Moesha smirked, a new kind of elation running through her as her command was followed. This was a challenge. She'd see if she could break through that little act and get a more amusing reaction out of him!

"Let's see," she mused aloud. What she really wanted to do was put him over her lap like a little boy. Unfortunately, that would require her to sit down, and her bottom was still swollen and burning hot from Mr. Ulnik's paddling. After a moment of thought, she figured out a compromise, and placed her foot on the seat of one of the chairs. She then bent forward and turned the little knob that adjusted the office chair's height, making the surface of her thigh parallel to the floor.

"Pants down!" She ordered. Benjamin avoided eye contact as he bent down to unzip and remove his slacks. Now that he was standing at a profile, Moesha got a better sense of his body and how it had changed. His skin was tanner than she remembered, and there was a bulk to his arms and chest that had before been absent. And that bottom...Moesha stopped herself from licking her lips. She was a butt girl, no shame in admitting it. When she first met Ben, the first thing that had struck her about him was his eyes...but it was just seconds after that that his round, chubby cheeks had become her favorite part of his body. They were harder and more muscular than she remembered, but also deeper, and more defined. She felt herself salivate.

"That's it, boy," she taunted, giving her thigh a sharp slap, "now bend that ass over! C'mon!"

She would have traded her soul to know what he was thinking and feeling when he dropped his pants to his feet and, taking another baby step inside his fallen pants to get close enough, leaned over her waiting thigh. Moesha quickly grabbed her skirt and pulled it up a few inches, so that he was resting almost entirely on naked flesh. Soon, his hands and feet were planted on the floor, making his underwear-clad bubbles the highest part of him.

"There we go," Moesha leered, reaching down to tossle his hair a bit. She looked up at Mr. Ulnik.

"Am I allowed to pull his undies down?"

Mr. Ulnik nodded curtly. Moesha wore a wicked grin as she set about making Benjamin as exposed as she had just been. With his underwear down, she remembered what she loved about white skin; it looked so naked. A pale white bottom had a delicate vulnerability, an invitingness to it. This was one of several reasons why she had always been more interested in...well...men who her family would rather she not be interested in. She placed her hand atop the curve of his left buttock, fingertips grazing the deep cleft that stood out so well against his skin. She felt taught muscle, but also a bit of baby fat; probably the only bit of it left on his body. As she touched him, she felt something grow and harden against her thigh. She really didn't know how to feel about that.

She looked up at Mr. Ulnik. He gave her a nod. An instant later, there was an alarmingly loud and fleshy slap, followed by the gasp of a young man who had vastly underestimated his spanker.

Moesha didn't see herself as very strong, so she used her full strength from the very beginning. When the first red handprints appeared on those hilariously pale, dimpled cheeks, she realized that this was her chance to communicate her frustration. She had worked dead end jobs and struggled to finish high school while taking care of her siblings, while he had rode through college on his parents' money. It wasn't his fault, she knew it wasn't, but all the same it wasn't fair. And for that, she'd turn that big, perky butt of his the same color as her lipstick.

"Ah...ow...oh..." she heard him cry out as she spanked him, taking full advantage of her mostly-standing position to give her arm a wide swing. Would he be this hard on her, if their positions were reversed? She kind of felt a little bad when she thought about how much she must have been hurting him. She started to slow down a little, but then she felt a droplet of liquid smear itself atop her thigh, and realized it was precum. With that, all her sympathy vanished and was replaced by a perverted curiosity. She watched each buttock flatten and bounce back as she smacked them in turn. Her arm was getting sore, but his entire bottom was a nice, rosy red now.

She took her left hand off his back to massage her painful right wrist. Mr. Ulnik remained poker-faced.

"Can you give me the paddle now?" she asked sweetly.

Without a word, he retrieved it from on top of the desk and handed it to her, handle first. She clutched the grainy wooden handle tightly, now grinning from ear to ear. Grabbing his waist again, she tapped the paddle against his chubby buns. She heard him whimper and saw his hands readjust themselves on the carpet. She was enjoying this for all the meanest reasons!

She raised up the paddle and brought it down right on the middle of his bottom, swatting a bullseye on his glowing target. This made him cry out, his body shifting over her thigh in a way that made her afraid he would get up, which she wasn't strong enough to prevent. He proved more tenacious than this, fortunately, and soon he was holding still again for the next swat.

She swung hard, fast, and low, landing each paddle swat on the underside of his cheeks. Left, right, right, left, she kept him guessing about which buttock would feel the heat next. There were two incredibly dark, red circles over his sit spots, but she resisted the temptation to spread her blows out and give them a rest. He was going to feel this, dangit, and he'd keep feeling it every time he sat on that meaty ass of his for a week if she had her way! The crack of the paddle stayed loud, and Benjamin's reactions grew even louder as Moesha ignored the pain in her arm and forced herself to give just one more and one more after that. When she finally dropped the paddle and took her hand off of his waist, her right arm was trembling. The only sound in the room now was Benjamin's loud sniffling as he struggled to control the sobs.

"So," she looked up at the older man, "how was that?" She used her functioning left hand to give Ben a couple of hard taps on the butt, accentuating her words with his squeal.

"That was more than adequate," the Norwegian said simply. "Mr. Callen, you will find someone with ice and skin cream in the common room. I'll speak with you again when Ms. Clarke's interview is complete."

"Yes sir," Benjamin said between sniffs as he pulled up his pants and underwear. Moesha was simultaneously proud and disappointed to see that his penis was mostly flaccid when he pulled his clothes back over it. An instant later, she hated herself for that. Its been so long. How much does he even think-

Before stepping through the door, Benjamin caught her eyes with his. His tear-reddened eyes asked her a question. There was some indignance and humiliation in there, but more than that, it looked like he was trying to ask her something. Moesha was no longer smirking as she returned his gaze. In that moment, she needed to talk to Ben; she was determined to have a real conversation and ask about what there really still was between the two of them.

He smiled at her. Without thinking, she smiled back. Then the door closed behind him, leaving her alone with Mr. Ulnik. He'll still be around, she reassured herself, I can find him again after the interview. Actually, it was good that she would have to wait a bit. In her current state, she didn't know if she could trust herself to not drag Benjamin into a restroom and jump him.

Now that he had her full attention again, Mr. Ulnik smiled cheerfully and sat back down behind his desk. "I am not disappointed," he said in an almost sing-song voice, "you are as in love with punishment as you are lovely."

"Um...thanks?" She realized her panties still weren't on all the way, and quickly reached under her skirt to fix that. Her vagina pulsed lustily as her underpants rubbed against its wetness.

He stood dramatically out of his chair, making her wonder why he had just sat down again. "Now," he proclaimed, "you face your final test." He went over to a tall filing cabinet and reached behind it to fish something out. "A safe word is used in my hotel, but I would rather not have maids who must use it every time they are chastised."

Moesha nodded, she had read about this. She also got the impression that the more you catered to the hotel guests, the bigger the wad of bills in your tip box was likely to be by the end of their stay. The salary for this job was good, but if she wanted to live somewhat comfortably at school she would need every extra dollar she could get.

"So," he said, pulling his arm back out, "I must be sure you are able to live with so much pain."

Oh no. No, she wasn't looking at what she thought she was looking at. Not after that wicked spanking and paddling he had already given her. Not with her impatience to get out the door and catch up with Benjamin. Even Mr. Ulnik should have been able to see that she'd had enough.

He swished the long, rattan cane elegantly down to his side.

"Remove your undergarments again, and resume your position on the desk. Six blows from this cane are more painful than anything that happens at my business. I must see that you are strong."

With a pathetic whimper, Moesha dragged her protesting feet back to the desk and pulled down her wetted panties, hating the cold, soggy sensation they left behind even more than the sharp pain as they constricted her swollen bum cheeks. She raised her skirt, leaned forward, and again put her fat bottom at Mr. Ulnik's mercy. She clenched her eyes shut when the lethal bar of wood pressed itself into her already smoldering buttocks, then disappeared as he raised the cane.

There was a loud, cringe-inducing whistle, and then a red hot wire cut into her ass cheeks all the way to the bone.

"OOOOOO OOOOOOO OOOOOOO OOOWWWW WWWWWW WWWW!!!!"

She wailed. She couldn't believe how much pain she was in. She wanted to reach back and tear that part of her body off, just to separate herself from that bar of agony he had branded into her. Her feet hammered on the floor. Her head thrashed back and forth.

"One," said Mr. Ulnik. He raised the cane again.

Moesha hadn't caught the nurse's name. She had just been grateful when the large, matronly woman laid her over her lap and applied one cold, sticky substance after another to the girl's lined and welted buttocks. The nurse had ended it by giving Moesha an ice pack, a fluffy seat cushion, and a small tube of moisturizing skin balm and telling her to avoid sitting on anything hard for the next three or four days. Moesha had also asked about Ben, but the nurse shook her head.

"I'm sorry honey, he's in a training meeting right now. They'll be done in about forty-five minutes, I think."

Moesha almost swore out loud. According to the clock, her bus was leaving in much less than that, and the next one wouldn't be until after dark. I should have just asked him when we were in the lobby. I shouldn't have been afraid. Well, at the very least she was confident that she had gotten the job. Would she get a chance to talk to Benjamin before she started work? She hadn't even gotten his contact information.

After thanking the nurse, Moesha returned to the lobby. Oh, her ass was sore. She was going to have to stand up for the whole bus ride home.

"Nice interview, cutie," beamed the blonde secretary as Moesha passed the front desk, "I heard the noise."

She leaned over her desk and gave Moesha's bottom a hard pinch, making her squeak in pain and dance out of the woman's reach. The secretary giggled merrily as Moesha's hands darted to the unholy agony that her smack had reawakened.

With her hands held defensively behind the back of her skirt, Moesha Clarke left the suite and made her painful way back to the elevator. Was this the best decision of her life, or the worst? She still really had no idea.