tagBDSMSpanked to Submission: A Novella

Spanked to Submission: A Novella


Spanked to Submission: A Novella

Summary: A white boss is dommed by her 18-year-old black female employee.

Thanks 1: To the real Annie-girl who inspired this long tale. (Her draft Temp Takes Over was the inspiration for this story)

Thanks 2: To all my friends who read this story and gave suggestions (Julia, Julie, Danielle, and Anne.)

Thanks 3: To my brilliant editors who catch my mistakes (Steve B for his suggestions and Estragon for his copy editing)


NOTE 1: Of course, all participants are 18 years of age and older.

NOTE 2: This story is long and builds at a much slower pace than most my other stories. If you are looking for quick sex this is not for you. This is much more a story of one woman's journey from a normal overworked woman, who suppresses her sexual needs, to one who submits entirely, although not without much inner struggle, to her Mistress.

NOTE 3: Although in the BDSM category for obvious reasons, this story is strictly a LESBIAN fantasy and strictly a black dome/white sub story. A fantasy that is not as far from the truth as one may think...

NOTE 4: Also, if spanking, humiliation, anal sex, younger-older domination, sex with food, or interracial dominance offends you, please don't read any further.

NOTE 5: Lastly, This is a story for the National Nude Day Competition.



Like all good stories, I should start at the beginning.

I was a rather flat-chested teenager who was ignored or teased by the boys most of my high school life. I was a nerd of sorts and since the boys showed little interest in me, I focused on my grades, the only thing in my life I got recognition for. This determination to be the best academically paid off as I got a scholarship to a good college. It also set up a pattern where I always strived to be the best at everything I did.

When, in college, a boy really showed an interest in me, I fell in love rather quickly and after graduating college with distinction, I married my long term boyfriend, the only man I had ever slept with. I agreed to go wherever his job took us, turning down many very good job offers in the process. We ended up living in Boston, and my career began to thrive, while his didn't. After a couple of years, a great opportunity came up for him in New York, and being the faithful, loyal wife I was, I quit my successful job and followed. Unfortunately, he eventually lost his job; while I was getting promoted at the firm I am in now. He couldn't handle my success, feeling it was the man's duty to be the breadwinner of the household. He began drinking and becoming verbally abusive towards me. He accused me of 'sleeping my way to the top'. The absurd accusations and his increased reliance on liquor led to our divorce. I spent the next few years focusing on my job, determined to indeed reach the top, but not by sleeping my way there, but by being the best. Relationships were nonexistent, as I focused on making partner at the firm. At age 29, all my determination and hard work paid off and I was made partner.

During this whole rise to the top, I had one assistant that was indispensable, Jane. She was an incredibly loyal, hardworking and dedicated assistant, whom I relied upon heavily. She knew what her role was and we worked more as a team than in the usual boss-assistant scenario.

Work with Jane was a comfortable routine; we were a well-oiled machine, until Jane became pregnant. She desperately wanted children and at 35 her biological clock was ticking. Of course, I supported her decision as a friend, but as a boss this was terrible news. She announced she was pregnant right in the middle of a new campaign we were putting together for a very large and potential very valuable new client. To make matters worse, for both her and me, Jane had complications and had to go on maternity leave early, before we had finished our proposal for this new company.

It was the beginning of the summer and Human Resources had the audacity to tell me they had hired a girl who was still in college. She would be with us all summer. I couldn't believe they would even consider giving me a college student, never mind one who had not even graduated yet. I was furious, but my ranting and raving was to no avail. The only thing I knew was that she was to start the next morning, and that her name was Audree, spelt with two 'e's' for Pete's sake. I cursed my ill-luck and prepared for the inconvenience of training a raw rookie during this very critical time.


I know I have high expectations as a boss. I strive to always be the best. I expect the same from my employees. My work day starts early in the morning, around 6:30 a.m., and I leave about the same time in the evening, except when I have to lead presentations or entertain clients. Jane knew my routine and was always at work by 7:30, with my coffee and bagel.

So when the HR manager, Louise, strolled in at 8:30 with my new assistant Audree, I was elbow deep in paper work. Louise, with her usual big fake smile, introduced me to Audree. I looked up, annoyed to be distracted from my work, to see my new temporary assistant for the first time. I was taken aback by how beautiful this young woman was. I was also taken aback by how young she was. She looked like she could be a freshman in high school, not a college graduate. Still assessing my new assistant, I took a lengthy look at her attire. Although not even lesbian curious, the first thing I noticed about her was her gigantic breasts. Each curve was clearly visible, based on the tight sweater she was wearing.

I have always been very self-conscious of my rather small breasts, and she walked in with these seemingly perfect set of tits. It was then that it finally hit me that she was black; I hadn't even noticed, probably because I was so taken with her beauty and commanding presence. Louise was talking, but I didn't hear a word, as I was transfixed on this young black woman.

I finally broke out of the spell I seemed to be under and asked Louise to repeat herself. After some generic pleasantries and chit-chat, Louise showed Audree around and explained what the job entailed. I had to believe Louise had it in for me, giving me someone so young and inexperienced when I had such a critical project to work on, not to mention a couple of others in the early stages of development.

I tried to get a real assistant one last time, someone out of diapers. Without success, I argued with Louise that Audree looked like she was sixteen. Louise explained that Audree was actually eighteen but had graduated high school at an accelerated rate when she was sixteen and had already finished two years of college. Louise also suggested I was lucky to have her as she was sought after by all the big firms in the city. The girl was a marketing genius and I was supposed to work with her and make her happy so she would sign a pre-packaged job offer when she graduated. It became apparent that I not only had a job to do, I also had to babysit some school girl. I was beyond furious and told Louise that we worked for a major marketing firm and not a babysitting service, but Louise just shrugged and said "This is what upstairs wants; so if you don't like it go talk to them." Knowing that would make no difference, I fired off a few choice curse words and stormed out.

But over the next few weeks, Audree proved herself to be a valuable asset as my assistant. I hated to eat crow, but Louise was right. Audree was a brilliant young lady, an incredibly hard worker and had an ability to get along with everyone.

One day, as we were getting near to closing that very important deal, things were not going as well as I would have wished. I went off the handle and Audree was the one that took the brunt of my anger, even though it was not her fault. Jane was used to my outbursts and took them in stride, knowing it was how I released stress. But the look on Audree's face was one of complete shock. Although our relationship didn't change instantly, I noticed a small difference in how she treated me. There became a slight chill between us.

A short time following my flare-up, our company was awarded the contract, based partly on a great idea of Audree's that seemed to be the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. But as business politics works, I was up for a pretty generous bonus. I usually share a portion with my assistant. Since this time I had two assistants, I had to figure a way to split it up between the two of them.

A week later, towards the end of the day, a bottle of champagne was sent down from the CEO of the company. I usually don't drink much, so I invited Audree to help celebrate our success. As we relaxed with the champagne, we talked some about her schooling and different things. I don't know if it was my reaction to the champagne, but I really did notice her intelligence, confidence and composure as she conveyed her past history.

I also felt a pang of remorse, recalling how I had blamed her earlier for that incident that was not her fault. This seemed to me a good time to apologize profusely for my actions. Then I told her that she was in line for a bonus. To my total amazement, Audree turned down the bonus and suggested I should give it all to Jane. Then I offered, "If there is anything I can do for you, you just let me know. I will do my best to help you." The offer was sincere, as I figured she would need a good reference for when she went back to school. She was also such a sweet, dedicated, hard-working girl that I knew we would be offering her a generous contract soon. I told her that I was sure that offer would even include paying for her last two years of college if she agreed to sign on with us for at least five years.

She gave me a slightly seductive smile, I thought, and responded, "Thank you Ann, I certainly plan to take you up on your offer."


The first few days of the next week foreshadowed what was to come. The changes in our relationship were so subtle that at the time I didn't notice, but they were there. On Monday she wore an outfit that had a generous v-neck, allowing me to have an ample view of her impressive breasts. On Tuesday she jokingly smacked my ass as she left my office for the day. Wednesday she pointed out that my usual business suit and slacks were rather manly and did nothing to showcase my assets. On Thursday, during a tense moment where we missed a deadline, I snapped at Audree in my usual over-the-top-irrational manner. Much to my surprise, she shot back telling me not to treat her like a child. I was speechless; I was not used to having an employee talk back to me. Before I could react, she stormed out of my office. I spent the next couple of hours moving from angry to upset, realizing that she was right and that I really needed to treat my employees with more respect.

I paged her into my office and she walked in with a new demeanour. She was always confident and borderline cocky (that was what I liked about her), but there was something different about her. Her words dripped with coolness as she said, before I could apologize, "I have been thinking about this for a while. I can't have you treating me like that anymore."

I began to apologize, but she cut me off, her tone authoritative and her look domineering, "Don't interrupt me." I stopped mid-sentence, stunned by her tone. She waited, her look daring me to speak. When I remained silent, she explained, "As I was saying, I can't have you treating me so disrespectfully. So I have concluded that you need help, and I have a solution to this problem."

I looked at her bewildered and slightly annoyed, "And what would that be may I ask?"

"I can't work with you anymore, if you continue to berate me. You don't see it, but your little tantrums, always wrongly directed, are damaging your relationships with many at the firm, especially your relationship with me. Is that what you want?"

"No," I responded and considered her accusations. I concluded she was right and asked, sincerely, "What do you have in mind?"

She approached me at my desk, "Well Ann, when you act like that, it is like you are acting like a little girl, a child, and when little girls act up, they get spanked."

My mouth hung open. Out of all the so-called solutions I thought might come out of her mouth, this was not one of them. I stuttered, trying to process this stunning development, "Y-y-you are suggesting you want to spank me?"

Audree ignored my question, "Here is how it will work, Annie-girl. Every Friday, at the end of the day, as long as I am here as your assistant, you will be spanked on your bare butt to help you learn how to act like a grown woman. You need to stop your silly tantrums and spewing out names that hurt people, and only thinking of yourself, do you understand, Annie girl?"

I sat at my desk, stunned in silence. All I could think of at first was that only my grandmother had ever called me Annie-girl, and I was petrified of her. Before I had time to process her suggestion, she turned and left my office leaving me to contemplate her aggressive and unorthodox solution. As I sat motionless at my desk, I tried to remember the last time I was spanked. Like Audree had implied, it was back when I was a bratty little girl. I tried to collect myself and as I stood up to leave for the day, I felt a tingle in my lower region; a tingle that I seldom had felt since I had divorced my ass of a husband.


After a night of tossing and turning, I ended up sleeping right through my 5:30 alarm. I arrived at work a little later than usual, a little after 7:30. As usual my schedule was full and I didn't have much time to think about the absurdity of yesterday's events. On the train to work, I began to assume that Audree was just playing a joke on me. Even so, I had a nervous nauseous most of the day. After returning from a lunch meeting, my mail was waiting for me on my desk, as usual. At the bottom of the pile was a letter with "ANNIE-GIRL" written on it in big letters. The nervous nausea that had finally begun to settle over lunch, returned with a vengeance. I opened the letter tentatively and realized they were the instructions for later today. The letter read:

Dear Annie Girl,

Today at 5:30 p.m. you will receive the spanking that you agreed to yesterday; yes, you agreed, because I didn't hear even the slightest hint of protest when I explained my conditioning. These are the instructions I EXPECT you to follow, so as to eliminate any awkwardness that may be present. I will come in and sit on your love seat, you will take off your blouse and approach ME, lower your slacks (unless you are wearing a dress or skirt which I have already hinted is what someone like you should ALWAYS be wearing) to your ankles and then your panties and lay across MY knee and I will proceed to spank your ass.

If you are reading this without ME present, you obviously cannot read, so look at the front of the letter (retrieving it from the waste paper basket, I looked and to my horror realized it said "DO NOT OPEN TILL 4:30"). So as a punishment for not waiting, as instructed, a few more spanks will be added to your total.

One more VERY important thing, you are to call me MS AUDREE from now on, no matter where we are or who else is around you will address me as MS AUDREE; when your door is closed it will be clear that I am the SUPERIOR to you and you should address ME properly.

The slightest sign of disobedience will result in harsh punishments.

Ms. Audree

I looked at the clock and realized it was only a little after 1 P.M., hours away from my so-called discipline. I wanted to confront Audree now, but I knew she was gone all day doing research for another upcoming advertising campaign. I sat back on my chair and worried: was this really happening? I was her superior. There was no way she should be treating me differently. My anger built up and while working with an ad campaign artist, Adam, my frustration boiled over and I lambasted him for his slowness at finishing the poser campaign for the client we had just won a contract for. In truth, it was not his fault, and his work was the best we had, but he ended up being the object of my anger over Audree's ridiculous attempt at power.

I stormed out of the meeting like a five year old, and returned to my office. My anger turned to shame, and then to remorse. I shuddered in embarrassment over the fact that I could not control my anger.

Most Friday afternoons are slow, so we have most of our staff work only every other Friday (we work long days and giving our staff a long weekend every second week is great for morale; we, of course, stagger the staff so we still have half our employees working and available). This Friday was no different, and with no real crisis to work on, I had even more time to consider the whole Audree situation. I thought about firing her, but what would be my justification? She was an amazing worker, and well liked by everyone at the firm. I could give her the 'I-am-the-boss' speech and make a clear line between boss and employee. I eventually decided I would attempt to have a serious and calm conversation with her in which I apologized for my disrespectful outbursts. Content with my plan, I worked on another upcoming campaign as the clock continued to tick.

At 4:25, Audree came into my office, dressed for the first time ever in slacks and a blouse, dressed like me. She extended her hand, "Let's see the letter".

I retrieved the letter and handed it to her. I had read it a thousand times already.

As soon as she saw it was out of its envelope a big smile grew on her face. With a I- knew-it attitude, she purred, "Just couldn't wait, could you Annie girl?" Her facial expression and tone was a mixture of dominance and amusement. "You know what that means then don't you, Annie-girl?"

Ignoring the question, I tried to reason with her, as I had practised all afternoon, "Audree."

"It is Ms. Audree," she corrected me, again her tone condescending.

Deciding the name thing was not the fight worth fighting, I obliged her request, as I attempted to rationalize the situation, "Ms. Audree, I am really sorry about my immature over reaction the other day. It won't happen again."

"You bet it won't," she responded.

I continued, "But I am the boss and...."

I was interrupted a second time by my temporary assistant. Her tone was now like that of a teacher speaking to a kindergarten child, "Didn't you blast Adam just a couple of hours ago?"

"Yes," I answered, ashamed, feeling the power shift beginning to occur. I attempted to defend myself, "But, I already said I won't let it happen again."

She laughed cynically, "Trust me, Annie. I know your behaviour will improve. I am going to make damn sure of it. So how many spanks should your punishment be?" she pondered.

I instantly wondered how many she originally had in mind. I went from aggressive to defensive as I said, "Audree, but I didn't...."

She raised her voice, her eyes on fire, "If you call me Audree one more time, I will double your punishment."

Desperate not to anger her any more, I again attempted to reason with her, "Ms. Audree, I didn't even see 'open after 4:30' until after I had read the letter."

She shrugged her shoulders and said flippantly, "You didn't follow a direct instruction. What kind of person would I be if I let such clear disregard for orders be ignored?" I remained silent and powerless to this young black girl. Audree confidently walked to the door, announcing as she left, "I will see you in a little while, to deal with your discipline and training. I expect no more of this silly back-talk." Before I had a chance to respond, she gave a smug laugh and walked out the door.

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