The Secretary

Mr. Spader finally spoke. "No, Miss Gyllenhall, that was not correct." This was an error compounding the original error. He felt it deserved more than just simply a verbal reprimand. Still, he also knew that once the spank had been released it could not be taken back. It was now out there. He had never done any such thing with a secretary before. Of course, no secretary had ever presented herself in such a manner before. He waited anxiously for her reaction.

Maggie realized that this was a moment of truth. Perhaps this was in part why Mr. Spader had previously gone through so many secretaries. Perhaps this was the hurdle over which she would have to leap that none had previously been able to surmount. She wondered if her mother had ever been spanked by one of her executive employers. The most successful and powerful businessmen are likely to be the most quirky and unconventional.

"Sorry, sir," she eventually responded, her voice subdued and contrite. She arched her back, providing a more receptive, clearer target.

Mr. Spader took a deep breath of relief. Apparently she wasn't going to simply walk out of the office in outrage and protest. In fact, not only did she not object she was providing a clearer, more provocative pose.

Maggie continued to read, and then suggested, "I should have typed 'council' here rather than 'counsel'."

THWACK!

The thwack again jolted Maggie forward. Apparently that wasn't the error. She took a deep breath. It would seem that she was going to get a spank every time she guessed wrong. Well, that was only just. Mr. Spader was a very busy man who charged hundreds of dollars an hour. She could not have him waste his time by asking about most every word she had typed. She would have to be more careful in the future.

Mr. Spader suppressed a smile. The feel of his hand on the young lady's bottom the previous day had been so nice. The pats had been even more delightful. The spanks though were at an entirely new level. He had never actually spanked a woman before. It wasn't that it had not crossed his mind. The opportunity had presented itself rather often on many different occasions. Perhaps the most appropriate time would have been when he was doing it with a girl from behind, but he had never felt the courage, the honesty, to try a spank, assuming, perhaps correctly, that she would not have been receptive to the gesture. He therefore had limited himself to affectionate little pats. He now knew what he had been missing, and he sorely regretted never once having made the attempt, if not at least the suggestion. His cock was rock hard in his slacks.

He actually found himself hoping that she would make another mistake.

Maggie very tentatively said, "I typed 'quash' rather than 'squash.'"

THWAP!

Apparently not.

This time Mr. Spader let his hand rest against Maggie's bottom after its sharp collision with her butt. It wasn't the traditional way to spank a girl, wherein one quickly removes the hand for another smack, perhaps even just a glancing blow. There might be somewhat less force behind a spank when it simply collides with the butt, but this approach also allowed Mr. Spader to momentarily clasp the curves of Miss Gyllenhall's sweet soft round ass within his hand.

Maggie didn't feel that the spanks actually hurt. He was swinging his hand pretty hard but it was through her dress, panty hose and panties. It was more embarrassing than anything else. But, gracious, he was now just leaving his hand there, even clutching her butt. She certainly hoped nobody would come into his office right now! Of course, they would knock first, wouldn't they? Everyone knew better than to just step into Mr. Spader's office.

Mr. Spader stepped up a bit closer to Maggie, close enough that the very tip of his swollen knob made contact with the curve of her derriere.

Maggie again paused in her reading. Was that what she thought it was? This time it wasn't really clear, or at least it just seemed too bizarre to believe. It was difficult to imagine it was anything else. It couldn't be his knee. It was unlikely to be a knuckle. It could be something in his pants pocket. Perhaps a cell phone? But, he wouldn't carry it there. He was always too immaculately dressed to have bulky objects in his pockets. He did not like to detract from the smooth lines of his suit. Still, could it really be what she was thinking? No, that just couldn't be. Mr. Spader was too professional for that. She needed to take her mind out of the gutter and back into the contract.

"Oh! I see it!" Maggie suddenly announced with pride and confidence. "I typed that his face was beat red, and it should have been beet, with two e's." Another homonym error. Those were just so easy to commit and so hard to notice!

Mr. Spader was disappointed, although he should be pleased that Miss Gyllenhall had discovered the second error. "Yes, well, that is indeed correct." He slid his hand across the delicious curves of Maggie's bottom. Her dress was thinner than her business skirt and he had let his hand linger there awhile. He gave her a little caress as he said, "Excellent, well, why don't you head back to your desk and make those corrections. I will let you know if I need you for anything else."

Maggie could sense the disappointment in his voice and she was troubled. Hadn't she done a good job? Well, perhaps not. Three times she had failed to identify the second error. Maybe he was disappointed about that. Well, of course he was, as she had been spanked each time. She picked up her pen and pad and slowly made her way across his office, feeling quite disappointed in herself, and again wondering if his eyes were following her bottom.

Just before she left she turned her face back to him, stuck her bottom out just a little bit, not enough so that it was clearly intentional or obvious, just enough that he was likely to notice it, and said, "Thank you for the spanking, sir. I know I deserved it. I'll do better the next time."

Mr. Spader was by now behind his desk, his expressionless eyes fixed in her direction, not revealing what was truly on his mind. "Yes, well, very good then. Back to work now."

"Yes sir," Maggie quietly replied and extricated herself from Mr. Spader's office.

However, as soon as she returned to her desk she wanted to return to him. She felt strangely uncomfortable, unable to sit still in her seat. It wasn't that her bottom stung or anything like that. It had only been three whacks and each one through three layers of clothing. No, her bottom was not stinging. She just felt so on fire, so excited.

Excited? Was she really? She looked around her. There was nobody within eyesight. She felt such an urge to touch herself but, of course, she dare not. Gracious, what if somebody walked in? Nobody knocked before they entered her area. And, what if Mr. Spader came through the door while her fingers were up her skirt? Masturbating on the job would most definitely be cause for dismissal in any employee's handbook, and rather embarrassing as well. How would she explain that to her mother?!

But, the urge was just so intense, so severe. She desperately concentrated on her work and, with time, the fire began to diminish, becoming only a tingly warmth, and then eventually flickering out altogether.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day Maggie's heart raced a bit as she made her way to her desk. The outfit she was wearing was a bit risque, at least for a secretary who might have to bend over a desk. It was a rather short cocktail dress, very thin and clingy, albeit also very delicate and feminine. A cocktail dress was a bit over the top for a secretary, but it wasn't easy keeping up with the designer suits of Mr. Spader. It did cling nicely to her breasts, or more accurately seemed to tightly wrap each one rather than cover them. She wondered though if Mr. Spader would even notice. He hadn't seemed to notice them before, which was perhaps understandable as they were not very big. But, in this dress they would really be very difficult to ignore. Well, at least that's how Maggie felt about it.

Of course, she wasn't so sure she should wear such a thing, or even for certain why she was wearing it. Perhaps he would appreciate that it was too risque for a spanking. Perhaps he would find it so appealing, so attractive, that he would forgo a spanking that day. Or, on the contrary, perhaps it was just inviting trouble, which might in fact be her true intention. Mr. Spader might not have been finding the spanking to be particularly arousing, although she certainly had. She had not had a more troubled sleep in quite some time, being continually awakened by rather disturbing dreams; ones that she most definitely wouldn't tell anyone, not even a professional psychiatrist.

Well, in any case, she was wearing a dress today in which she would most definitely feel the spanks.

Mr. Spader though did not seem to even notice her outfit as he passed her desk repeatedly throughout the morning. She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed. She was definitely disappointed that he apparently did not found her attractive. A woman who is wearing a provocative cocktail dress does not want to go unnoticed. But, she was pleased that he had not called her in for a spanking, but then again, maybe she was even disappointed in that.

"Miss Gyllenhall," the intercom crackled, "Would you come in here, please?"

"Oh yes sir!" Maggie quickly replied, a smile crossing her face. She left her notepad behind her, scampered to his door, and then paused to brush and straighten her dress. With the smile still gracing her lips she entered his office.

Mr. Spader watched without apparent reaction as Maggie approached his desk, the document resting in its usual position.

But, Mr. Spader would not be a man if he had not admired her beauty. He had indeed noticed her dress earlier, in fact repeatedly passing her desk to enjoy another look.

Maggie's dress was so terribly feminine and delicate. It was a bright yellow, with little green vines traversing her entire body, wrapping around her breasts, sprouting purple and red orchids. Orchids didn't actually grow on vines, but perhaps they should as it was really quite pretty. Plus, the dress did indeed cling to her figure so deliciously. Her hips swung and swayed with each step, the hem of the skirt bouncing with the movement of her thighs.

But, if there was one thing that a lawyer can do, it is to maintain a straight face in the face of severe provocation, and Mr. Spader was a very, very good lawyer.

Maggie stopped when she reached the document, and then gradually bent over, keeping those lovely blue eyes fixed on his as she slowly assumed the position, the cleavage of her top falling open to reveal to his eyes that she was wearing a matching yellow brassiere.

There was something so nice, so sweet, so enticing, about getting a peek down into the bodice of a dress. You know you were seeing something that was supposed to be hidden from view, something personal and intimate. Mr. Spader let his eyes linger on his secretary's alluring titties for a moment, admiring what little of them he could see.

Maggie saw where he was looking and wondered if she should reach down and pull her cleavage open further.

Mr. Spader lifted his eyes to Maggie's, their eyes meeting, Mr. Spader realizing that Maggie had caught him peeking down into her dress. There was a moment of acknowledgment, of recognition, but it did not last long. He got up from his desk and made his way around to take his position behind her behind.

He wondered if his secretary was more attractive from behind. It was an odd thought and of course not really true, as Maggie was such a pretty woman with such an expressively adorable face. But, she also had such a perky round tush, and this dress hugged her curves like the thinnest of tissue paper. Plus, it was so short that it now just barely covered her panties. He wondered if they matched her brassiere. He imagined that must be true, and wondered further if he did indeed have to imagine. Perhaps he could get a peek beneath her skirt? Yellow panties. That sounded so nice.

He stepped up to her and reached for the hem of her skirt. A skirt that short was meant to be lifted, wasn't it?

But, his hand paused just as his fingers were about to make contact with the thin, delicate fabric. He pulled his hand way.

Instead, he said, "Just one error today, Miss Gyllenhall."

"Yes sir," Maggie replied, wondering what was going on behind her. It was such a strangely erotic position to be in, to have the guy be able to see so much, to be able to do so much, yet she would not be the least bit aware.

She felt such a strong urge to look behind her, to see what he was looking at, what he was doing, but her eyes focused instead on the document, carefully studying it.

One error, only one. That should be easier, shouldn't it? She only had to find one. She only had to find one error rather than three. However, in one regard it was in fact more difficult. With three errors one had three chances of finding the first one. One error, in contrast, was like a needle in a haystack, which wasn't far from the truth, as this document was 38 pages long, including close to 17,000 words, only one of which was apparently misspelled. Of course, finding the second and third errors made finding all three ultimately more difficult than finding one, but at the moment Maggie was concerned with only one error and it seemed much more difficult than she had experienced before.

Maggie studied the document for quite some time, at times reading out loud, at times reading to herself, all the while Mr. Spader stood quietly behind her, studying the soft, tender, curves of his secretary's derriere. It did not take long for his cock to come to full erection, thrusting out his pants like a blunt club. He slipped his left hand into his pocket to grasp hold of it; not so much to squeeze and fondle it, but to pull it back tight against his abdomen in case Maggie looked back at him.

Maggie very tentatively suggested, "It's the word, 'n0rp.'"

THWAP!

Clearly not, she thought, as her body jolted forward with the thwap. She should have known better. Mr. Spader had been very clear about the spelling of "n0rp." She had difficulty believing it at the time, and had now wondered if he had purposely misled her, giving her a misspelled word that he could then punish her for later. Well, apparently she had been wrong, but she still didn't understand what it meant.

She squirmed her bottom a bit and wondered if the squirming was making her skirt rise up. The thin cocktail dress was not nearly as protective as a business skirt, but that was not the only problem. She could also feel another sort of tingling.

She tried to remain still as she returned her attention to the document.

Mr. Spader revealed a hint of a smile as his hand rested upon Miss Gyllenhall's bottom. He now appreciated his secretary's choice of apparel even more, as his palm and fingers felt so much closer than ever before to Miss Gyllenhall's soft curved bottom. He clearly detected her panties through the skirt, again wondering if they were a match to her brassiere. He gave her delicate round tush a little squeeze, his cock swelling and yearning within his pants as his fingers gripped that girlish fanny.

"'Pwned.'" That had to be a mistake.

THWAP!

Maggie's body thrust forward again with the sharp, forceful collision of the spank. She squeezed her sphincter.

Mr. Spader admonished her for the second error. "Miss Gyllenhall, I explained n0rp and pwned to you when I dictated the letter." His hand rubbed and gripped her right cheek. "Are you suggesting that it was I who had made a mistake."

"Oh, no sir, not at all. I just, well, I had not, um, seen these words before."

Mr. Spader's eyes were fixed on Maggie's derriere. The movement of his hand had caused her dress to slip up just a bit higher. He leaned over to the right, tilted his head, and nodded. Yes, she was indeed wearing matching yellow panties. "Yes, well, try to be a bit more careful, shall you?"

"Oh, yes sir," Maggie replied, and continued to study the manuscript.

With considerable reluctance Mr. Spader released his hand from Maggie's rump. However, he used it to press down a bit on her lower back. He quietly instructed, "Arch a bit more, if you would, Miss Gyllenhall."

"Yes sir," Maggie replied, providing her bottom with a bit more lift, a bit more thrust, increasing the obscene implications of her pose, her presentation.

Mr. Spader though walked away, slowly making his away to the other side of the room, releasing now his left hand from his pocket to let his cock jut out his pants. When he reached his orchid garden he studied the sight of Maggie's thrusting bottom in the reflection of the glass. Her orchid dress complemented well the orchids within his garden, albeit he had to admit that her yellow panties peeking out from beneath her skirt were really much more beautiful than any of the flowers.

Knock Knock.

Mr. Spader turned calmly toward his office door, his hands clasped in front of his crotch. "Yes, please, come in," he instructed, loud enough to be heard through the thick mahogany.

Maggie jerked her head up from the document, her eyes wide with shock and concern. She quickly looked back at Mr. Spader, her eyes now stricken with fright. Was he serious? Would he let someone come in now?

Mr. Spader though wasn't even acknowledging her concern. He was just standing there, calmly, indifferently waiting for whomever might now enter his office.

Maggie strained to look back at her bottom, not taking her hands from his desk, wondering how much she was exposing, how lewd she appeared. She could see that her dress had risen up a bit. She so, so hoped that it had not risen so far as to reveal her panties. But, even if that wasn't true, it was still a very compromising pose.

She turned, just her face, to see who was entering the office.

The young man said, "Excuse me?"

Maggie quickly turned her face away. It was Steff McKee, the supply boy. He wasn't really a boy. He was eighteen or nineteen years old. Maggie wasn't sure which, but he did remind her of a boy, as he looked so young for his age. Steff was as uncomfortable about this as Maggie, perhaps even more so. He could clearly see that he should not have opened the door, as Miss Gyllenhall was bent over Mr. Spader's desk, thrusting her bottom out, a bit of yellow panty clearly evident. Something was wrong here, very wrong indeed!

"Steff," Mr. Spader spoke calmly from the other side of the opened door. "Do you have something for me?"

"Um," Steff turned his face away from the sight of Miss Gyllenhall. He was reminded of when he had accidentally stepped in on his sister as she was fixing her make-up after a shower, her naked body covered only by a tightly wrapped towel. He had felt so, so mortified. He knew he should have knocked first. His sister didn't help by giggling at his obvious embarrassment and discomfort. "Yes sir," he called out loudly. "I have the, um..." He glanced down at his left hand, having momentarily forgotten precisely what he was delivering. "The, um...Montblac pens."

"Yes, yes, excellent," Mr. Spader replied. "Bring them in please."

"Yes sir," Steff replied, pushing the door open further, just enough for him to step into the office and look around the door, to find Mr. Spader standing by his orchid garden, his hands remaining clasped before him.

He pushed the door all the way open and made his way toward Mr. Spader, holding out the box of pens for him to take.

Mr. Spader did not himself use Montblac pens. He preferred his Graf Von Faber-Castell pen. But, he would purchase a set of personalized Montblacs engraved with the name of his firm. Clients and colleagues enjoyed walking off with them, as if he didn't notice.