tagBDSMWhat Are You Worth

What Are You Worth


Mara Jones scanned the files on her desk, making sure there were no errors. Her boss, Michael Smith, was efficient and demanding. He was fair, but had no patience for incompetence. In her six months here she'd seen two people summarily dismissed for repeating mistakes. She prided herself on her attention to detail and had yet to be reprimanded for anything. Prior to this, she'd been between jobs for far too long and had jumped at the opportunity for the entry level filing work. She'd been quietly efficient up until the last month. Working tirelessly day after day for the last six months she'd gotten more done than any two of her peers. Her diligence had paid off. Monday morning, Mr. Smith had commented at the weekly meeting on how well she'd done and how it would behoove everyone else in the office to take note of her example. That was her cue that it was time. Six months of entry level filing was long enough. It was time to move up.

Now it was Friday. Once again she was one of the last people left working in the office. Smiling, she gathered up the files and shuffled them neatly into a folder. Rising from her desk she made her way to the back office where Mr. Smith would still be working. With each step she felt herself grow slightly more nervous. It was risky, asking for a promotion so soon, but her work ethic spoke for itself. Pausing just outside the door she took a steadying breathe.

"Now or never." She whispered. Heart racing she knocked once and waited to be called in.


Opening the door, Mara strode confidently into the office. Mr. Smith was facing away from her, his nose buried deep in financial reports.

"Mr. Smith, I have the files you requested."

"Thank you Miss Jones." He replied without looking up. "Just leave them on my desk. "

Mara hesitated just a moment before placing the files on the desk. Taking a step back she clasped her hands in front of her and waited patiently.

After several moments Mr. Smith looked up, as if noticing her for the first time. Glancing at his desk he spied the folder she'd place there. "Was there something else?"


Mr. Smith set the financial reports aside and turned to face her. She could feel his intense scrutiny as he tapped his fingers expectantly on his desk. "Well?" He asked patiently. "Were you going to tell me, or are you expecting me to read your mind?"

"I've been here six months now." She said.


"I want a raise."

Mr. Smith arched an eyebrow at her but didn't smile. "Excuse me?"

"I'm your best employee." Mara stated. "I'm the first one at work, and I'm the last one to leave. I do twice the work of any of your other employees and I've never made a single mistake or needed any supervision."

"So you don't think I'm paying you enough?"


Mr. Smith nodded thoughtfully. "When you were hired, was there anything in the employment agreement that was unclear?"


"So." Mr. Smith continued. "You understand that raises are granted annually and only after a performance review?"


"And yet here you are."


"You're very confident." He said with a faint smile. "You've still got three months left on your probationary status. I could dismiss you for any reason."

"You won't."

"You're right." He admitted. "I have no reason to dismiss you. You are smart, professional, and efficient. I don't see any reason why you shouldn't have a raise. After your annual review, that is."

Mara frowned. That was six months away which was unacceptable. "I can work extra hours then."

Mr. Smith looked amused. "You're used to getting your way, aren't you?"


"You do excellent work." He replied. "But I need more of a reason to make an exception for you."

"What do I have to do?"

Mr. Smith looked at her thoughtfully. "Are you single?"

Mara flushed in surprise, her mouth dropping open. "I'm not going to fuck you for a raise!" She replied indignantly before she could stop herself.

"No." Mr. Smith said evenly, un-phased by her outburst. "You most certainly are not. And I didn't ask you to. I asked you a simple yes or no question. You can choose to answer it or not."

"And if I don't?"

"Then this conversation is over." Mr. Smith replied. "If there's nothing further then?"

Mara bit back her irritation. "Yes, I'm single."

Mr. Smith nodded thoughtfully. "So you have no problem working extra hours then?"

"Not at all."

"Then just submit the request through the proper channels." He said dismissively, turning back to his reports. "I'm sure you know which form to use."

Mara stood in shock, her mouth still hanging open slightly. "That's it?"


Frustrated, Mara turned to leave but paused. This wasn't acceptable. "No."

Mr. Smith looked up. "No what?"

"I'm not going to work overtime. I'm already doing twice the work for half the pay."

"I'm sorry you feel that way." Smith replied. "Unfortunately, unless you can give me a good reason to make an exception for you then there's nothing I can do. You'll just have to wait until your annual review."

"What would be a good reason?"

Mr. Smith looked at her with amusement. "Are you asking me because you can't think of anything, or because you want me to tell you what a good reason would be?"

"What do you want me to do?" Mara asked.

"I've already told you what you can do." Smith Replied. "File for overtime."

"What else can I do?"

"I don't know." Smith said. "What can you do?"

"I'm not going to fuck you." Mara repeated, feeling irritated, she could tell he was toying with her now.

"You already said that." Smith replied. "And I told you I wasn't asking you to."

"What do you want then?"

"You want a raise?" Smith asked.


"Beg for it."

Mara felt her mouth fall open in shock. "What?"

"Beg." Mr. Smith repeated. "You want a raise, beg me for one."

"I'm not going to beg you for a raise." Mara snapped. "I'm better than that."

"Then stop wasting my time." Mr. Smith replied. He glanced at the clock behind her, he waved dismissively. "It's late. You should go home. I'll see you Monday, bright and early as always?"

Mara gritted her teeth. Part of her wanted to stomp out of the office and slam the door. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. If he wanted to play a game, fine. She'd call his bluff."


"Please what?" Mr. Smith asked. "What are you asking me?"

"Please." Mara repeated, bowing her head slightly. She slumped her shoulders forward a little and raised her voice an octave. "Please, Mr. Smith. I really, really need the money. Please, I need a raise. Please, please, please."


Mara's head snapped up, her eyes wide with anger. Stifling an angry curse she turned to leave his office.

"That was playing." He called after her, his voice quiet. "Do it right."


Mr. Smith stood up and walked around the desk until he was standing in front of her. He looked her in the eyes, his face unreadable. "If you're going to beg, do it right."

Mara hesitated, she'd never noticed how intense his eyes were until now. She could feel the heat of his body, just inches from hers, smell the faint scent of his cologne and something else, something indefinable. To her surprise Mara felt her anger seeping away, being replaced by something else.

"This is harassment." Mara said, trying to regain her composure.

"No. It's not." Mr. Smith replied. "You came to me. I'm not holding this over you, I'm not threatening you, or promising you anything. You asked me what you could do. I told you. You have the option of saying yes, or no. And that's it."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Do it right." He repeated, emphasizing each word. His gaze flicked towards the ground. "Kneel."

"I'm not going to blow you for a raise." Mara replied weakly, feeling her heart race.

"I didn't ask you to." Mr. Smith stated, his eyes penetrating her. "Did I?"

"No." Sinking to her knees she stared at the floor. Her cheeks flushed bright red from embarrassment. Her body trembled. Her face was now level with his crotch and she couldn't bring herself to look up. "Mr. Smith..." She said weakly, barely able to find her voice.

"Sir." Mr. Smith said, cutting her off. He placed his index finger under her chin and raised her face up until she was looking at him.

"Call me, sir." He said. "Clasp your hands behind your back, and beg."

Mara put her hands behind her back and gripped them tightly, she could feel her body trembling still. "Yes. Yes sir."

"Good." Mr. Smith said, his voice resonating with approval, his tone striking a cord deep within her. "Now, beg."

"Please sir." Mara begged, her breath coming in gasps. "Please. I need a raise. I need the money. Please sir. I'll... I'll do anything."

"Good girl." Mr. Smith smiled and patted her face gently. "I know."

Still panting Mara leaned back; she could feel her head spinning. "Please, sir." She repeated. "Tell me what to do."

Mr. Smith stepped back and looked at her appraisingly. "Stand up."

Mara pushed herself shakily to her feet. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. No one had ever had this effect on her before. Part of her wanted to turn and run, but she couldn't. Unsure of what to do, she held her hands together in front of her and bowed her head slightly, looking at the floor. She could feel Mr. Smith staring intently at her.

"Tell me." Mr. Smith said finally. "What color panties are you wearing?"

Mara blushed. For a moment she couldn't find her voice. Finally, she answered. "Blue."

"Take them off."

Mara looked up in surprise. "What?"

"Take off your panties." Mr. Smith repeated. "Fold them up, and hand them to me."

"I'm not going to fuck you." Mara said, feeling her pulse quicken.

"I didn't ask you to."

Swallowing back her fear, Mara reached behind her and hiked up the back of her skirt. Still blushing, she hooked her fingers into the waistline of her panties and slid them off while still preserving her modesty. Hands shaking, she folded them into a neat square and held it out.

Smiling, Mr. Smith took the small bundle of silky cloth and caressed it between his thumb and forefinger. He could feel the lingering warmth of her body radiating from the material.

"Stand a foot away from my desk." He ordered, still stroking the material. "Bend forward at the waist, and place your hands on the desk."

Mara took a hesitant step forward, her knees feeling weak. Reaching out, her fingertips lightly brushed the cool surface of the desk. Bending forward slightly, she started to shake. Trembling, she leaned forward until her elbows were resting on the desk. She could hear Mr. Smith off to her side as he walked a slow circle around the office to stand in front of her. Sitting in his chair, he looked across his desk at her, a faint smile dancing across his lips. His eyes though were burning with an intensity that she'd never seen before. His fingers were still caressing the soft fabric of her panties as he gazed at her.

Reaching out with his other hand, he placed his finger under her chin again and raised her head slightly. "Reach back with your left hand." He ordered. "Raise up your skirt until it's over your waist and then place your hand back on the desk."

Mara felt her lip quiver. "Please don't fuck me."

"Sir." Mr. Smith said gently, his thumb tracing a slow circle on her chin.

"Please don't fuck me, sir."

"I didn't ask to fuck you, did I?"

"No sir."

"Spread your legs should width apart, and lift up your skirt." Mr. Smith repeated.

Nodding weakly, Mara reached back with her left hand and pulled her skirt up. Shivering slightly, she felt goose bumps rising on her exposed backside. Embarrassed, she placed her hand back on the table and tried to avert her eyes, but he held her fast.

"Open your mouth."

Breath coming in rapid gasps, Mara opened her mouth slightly.

Mr. Smith held the folded square of cloth just in front of her face and brushed it gently against her nose. Sliding the silky fabric up and down her nose, he teased her open lips with it before shoving it gently into her mouth.

"That stays there until I tell you otherwise, do you understand?"

Teeth clenched, Mara nodded. "Yth thr."

Mr. Smith stroked her check affectionately. "Good girl."

Standing up, he walked around the desk until he was standing behind her. "Put your head down and clasp your fingers together behind your neck."

Still shaking, Mara obeyed and made a quiet mewling noise as she felt his shoe tap her feet gently apart until her stomach was resting on the edge of the desk. His strong hand gripped her fingers at the back of her neck firmly and pushed until her face down on the cool desk, pinning her helplessly.

Whimpering slightly Mara felt her hips shifting from side to side.

"You have a lovely ass, Miss Jones." Mr. Smith said pleasantly, his fingers sliding across one side of her ass to the other. "But you are insolent and your attitude needs some adjusting."

Without warning he drew his hand back and smacked her firmly across the ass.

Squealing in surprise, Mara felt her hips buck helplessly, but Mr. Smith still held her firmly.

"I'm going to punish you for your insolence." Mr. Smith continued, still stroking her ass. Mara could feel the heat rising from where his hand had stung her and shivered from where his fingers brushed over the tender spot. "I'm going to spank you." He said quietly, his voice lowering an octave. "Feel free to struggle all you want. But don't hide from it. If I feel like you're holding back, I'm going to spank you harder. I want to see how long you can last. When you can't take anymore, all you have to do is say 'please'. Do you understand?"

"Yth thr." Mara whimpered through clenched teeth.

"Let me hear you say it then." Mr. Smith said. "Say 'please'."


Without warning, Mr. Smith brought his hand down across her ass, the sound of his hand smacking her tender flesh echoed through the office. Mara writhed and twisted, but couldn't escape his grasp. Tirelessly, he slapped her ass again and again, wrenching a pitiful cry from her with every stroke. Every swat seemed to vibrate through her whole body with a rising intensity, the stinging warmth suffusing her backside as she struggled helplessly. The heat radiated from her ass to between her legs, and she could feel warm sticky juices flowing down her thighs. Finally, the intensity of the sting began to overwhelm her, choking and gasping as tears sprang to her eyes she struggled to find her voice.

"Plth." She sobbed through clenched teeth, a puddle of drool tracing from the corner of her mouth. "Plth. Nw Mwr. Plth."

"Good girl." Mr. Smith purred, admiring the red marks glowing against her pale skin. Gently he stroked her ass, massaging it firmly with a gentle pat. "You did very good."

Reaching across his desk, he pulled a tissue from the box sitting on the corner of his desk. She was so wet her juices had trickled down to her knees. With surprising gentleness he cleaned her legs. With slow, soft strokes he worked his way up her legs. Getting a fresh tissue, he dabbed gently at her pussy. She could feel his fingers stroking her labia through the soft tissues. He cleaned her gently, making sure every bit of her was dry and clean. Hips still twitching, she could feel the dampness deep inside her oozing out.

"You're a very good girl." Mr. Smith purred, his fingers tracing up and down either side of her pussy. Gently he gripped the hood of her clit and squeezed, causing her to gasp in surprise. "You were very, very wet."

Writhing and twisting, she tried to close her knees but was too weak. She could feel his thumb and forefinger clamped down firmly on her clit as he rolled his fingers from side to side. After what seemed like an eternity, he released her. His fingers slid up the length of her pussy, teasing her one last time. Reaching for another tissue he dabbed her sex gently, getting up every last bit of moisture.

Still gripping the back of her neck, he moved to stand directly behind her. Pulling back, he lifted her head off the desk and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her close. Releasing her hands, Mr. Smith slid his grip from the back her neck to her throat. Mara moaned as she felt him pressed against her, his rock hard cock rubbing through the fabric against her pussy.

"You are mine." He growled into her ear. "I own you. You do not tell me what you will and will not do. I will fuck you how I want and when I want. Do you understand?"

"Yth thr." Mara moaned, still gripping her panties with her teeth.

"Good girl." Mr. Smith whispered, releasing her.

Mara stumbled forward and caught herself on the edge of his desk, legs shaking. She felt his hand tug her skirt down and turned her head in askance. Smiling gently he reached up and stroked her face. Gripping the edge of the fabric, he tugged at the panties still in her mouth until she let go.

"Good girl." He repeated. "You should go home and get some rest. We're done for now."

"What?" Mara asked weakly. "I don't understand..."

"You did well." Mr. Smith replied, still smiling. He stroked her hair gently. "I can't give you a raise though."

Mara felt as if she had been doused with a bucket of ice water. "What?"

"You're still on probation status." Mr. Smith replied with a wicked smile. "So I can't give you a raise. However, I need a personal assistant."

"Personal assistant?"

"Yes." Mr. Smith said. "I like the way you conduct yourself. Your performance since you started working here has been nothing short of exemplary. I think you'll do quite well. So in three months, when your temporary probation expires, submit the application. You will be approved. The pay increase should be significant, as well as the benefits."

"Benefits?" Mara asked. "But what about..."

"This?" Mr. Smith asked, still smiling. "This will be part of your regular duties as my personal assistant. Consider the next three months your training period."


"Yes." He replied. "I like your outfit. It looks very good on you. For the next three months, you will wear this exact outfit, minus panties once per week." He held up her panties. "I'll be keeping these."

"Ok..." Mara replied weakly, still feeling her head spinning from what had just happened.

"On those days, you will stay after hours. For training purposes, do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Mara nodded weakly, her knees were still shaking.

"Good girl." Mr. Smith said. "Until next week then?"

"Yes sir."

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