The Temp It all began when my regular assistant left for eight weeks of
maternity leave. I asked her to contact a temporary agency and
hire a replacement during her absence. Lori arrived a few days
later to work with my regular assistant and become acquainted
with our operation. The very first time we met, something electric
seemed to pass between us. Lori was strikingly beautiful, and
proportioned just the way I like, with cupcake breasts and a perky,
upturned derriere. I could tell by her initial reaction that she
was attracted to me as well, and I wondered if I could create
a bit of excitement between us before her eight weeks had elapsed.
by Otkforu
As time went on, we got to know each other better. Lori was very
frank and down to earth, and had a wonderful, sarcastic sense
of humor. She also was a bit of a smart-ass at times, and I began
to work out how I might be able to use this to my advantage.
My plan came together as Lori began to make mistakes with her
work. First, she neglected to copy an expense report that needed
to go to my manager. Later, she misplaced a master copy of a student
guide for one of our classes. But the last straw came when she
forgot to make my flight, hotel, and limo arrangements for an
important meeting, stranding me at the airport and causing me
to be late. With this hat-trick of misdeeds in hand, I knew just
what to do.
Around 4:30 one Thursday afternoon, I asked Lori to step into
my office. As she came in, I asked her to close the door. She
did so, and stood at the front of my desk.
"Lori, I need to talk with about some problems with your performance,"
I began. She gave a little snort of a laugh and rolled her eyes.
"This is no laughing matter," I continued. "Your work has not
been up to necessary standards."
She chuckled her little smart-assed laugh and put one hand on
her hip. "Yeah, well, I guess I'll try to do better, then. Anyhow,
what can you do; I'm a temp." She was strolling right into my
trap.
"Yes," I replied, "you are a temp. And that's why there's such
a dilemma. If you were a full-time employee, I would have a course
of action based upon our personnel policy, but temporary employees
are exempt from those guidelines."
She thought about this for a moment and frowned. "What are you
going to do then, fire me?" she asked with a smirk.
"Well, that would be the official course of action, but I think
it's somewhat severe. Besides, there's no time to train a replacement,
and my assistant will be out for another two weeks." I waited
a moment for effect, then continued, "The problem is, I have no
sanctioned alternative. That is, unless you would be willing to
work out some sort of alternative punishment."
She furrowed her brow at this last comment. "What do you mean,
punishment?"
I continued. "What I mean is that you need to be taught a lesson
about poor performance. The company would have me fire you, but
I'm offering you an alternative." I drew a deep breath. "Since
a long-term corrective-action plan is not viable, I think tha
t you should be subject to direct disciplinary action."
Lori frowned and gave me a suspicious look. "What do you mean,
direct disciplinary action?" she asked.
"Corporal punishment."
"You mean a spanking?" she laughed. "You can't be serious!"
"I'm quite serious. I'm offering you an opportunity to keep this
job, and I suggest that you consider it carefully."
She looked a bit bewildered, and stared off into space over my
right shoulder. "That seems a bit severe," she said, finally.
I looked her in the eye. "That's my final offer. I'll give you
a half an hour to think it over. Come back in when you've decided."
With that, I turned to my PC and began to work. Lori stood open-mouthed
for about 10 seconds, then slowly turned and walk ed out of my
office. When the door closed, I finally started to breathe. I
had broken out in a sweat, and I was shaking so badly that I couldn't
even type. Now I had to wait for her decision and hope that she
wouldn't report me.
The clock crawled toward 5. I was just about ready to call Lori
when my door opened and she walked in. As she turned to close
the door, I could swear that she gave that lovely bum an extra
swish for my benefit. She approached my desk. "I've decided that
I want to keep this job," she said. "What, uh, happens now?"
Now I knew that I had the upper hand. "Now we discuss the details
of your punishment and set a time for it to take place. By my
records, you have been bad three different times, each time worse
than the previous. I believe that the severity of your disci pline
should reflect the severity of the problems that each episode
caused."
She swallowed hard and said nothing. I continued.
"Forgetting to copy my expense report was fairly minor. In fact,
I probably would have forgotten about it if nothing else had happened.
Sadly, that was not the case. For this first situation, then,
you will receive twenty spanks. The lost handbook master created
bigger problems, though. I think that this will require you to
submit to forty hard smacks on your bare bottom.
Wait a minute..." she started.
"Quiet," I replied. "You agreed to the punishment. The time for
talking has ended. You don't want to make it any worse on yourself,
do you?" She shook her head. "Good. There is one more thing that
you must be punished for, and that's the Denver trip problem.
That caused me quite a bit of difficulty, and so your discipline
will be more severe. I think that twenty bare smacks with a paddle
should do it. Do you have any objections?" I paused to see if
she had remembered not to protest. "Good. Now, since tomorrow
is casual day, I think that would be a good time to carry out
your punishment. Come back to my office at 5:00 tomorrow afternoon,
and I want you to bring a suitable implement for me to use."
This seemed to puzzle her. "You want me to bring what?"
"Something to paddle you with. Use your imagination. I'm sure
that you can come up with something. Now go home and think about
your punishment. I'll see you back here tomorrow at five."
Lori wandered outas if in a daze and closed the door. I thought
that my heart would beat right out of my chest. If nothing went
wrong, my fantasy would come true the very next day.
I couldn't sleep at all that night, thinking about Lori with her
lovely rear in the air. The drive to work took forever, and I
was sure that no workday has ever gone more slowly. I began to
panic as 5:00 came and went with no sign of Lori. The office was
deserted; most folks take off around 3:00 on Fridays.
Suddenly the doorknob turned and she walked in. "Lock it," I said,
and she turned to twist the latch. I saw that she had worn light
linen slacks despite the casual day dress code. I looked at my
watch. "You're late. You know that this will add to your punishment,
don't you?"
"Sorry," she laughed. "I was busy." Her wisecracking attitude
had returned; apparently a day's worth of normal office duties
had caused her to forget about the seriousness of her situation.
"Yes, I think you _will be sorry before we're through," I countered.
"Did you remember what I asked you to bring?"
"Um, no, actually, I forgot. Do you want me to go get something?"
She was a little off-balance at this point, but still seemed pretty
flippant.
"No, your punishment cannot be delayed any longer. It's exactly
this kind of attitude that we're trying to correct here. I have
a paddle, but you will be punished for forgetting." I walked around
the desk and took her gently by the wrist. "Come over here," I
said.
I led her over to the leather couch along the end wall of my office,
and pulled a wooden chair out from the conference table, placing
it in front of the couch and at right angles to it. I sat down
in the chair, with Lori standing to my right. She looked a bit
worried.
You have been bad," I began, "and must be punished. For your various
misdeeds, you are about to receive a total of eighty hard blows
to your bottom. I will deliver an additional six with the switch
for forgetting to bring a paddle and being late. During your punishment,
you must cooperate. This means counting each spank out loud and
answering any questions immediately. You also must assume the
correct position and do what you are told. Failure to cooperate
will increase the severity of your penalty. Do you understand?"
I paused to wait for an answer.
"Yes," she said in a small voice. She was shaking almost as much
as I was.
"Are you ready to be punished, then?"
"Yes."
It was really going to happen. "Good. Now bend across my lap and
stretch your arms out on the couch." Lori lowered herself across
my lap, and I could feel her hips and ribs on my thighs. A wisp
of perfume wafted up and teased my nose. She stretched her forearms
out onto the leather couch and let her head hang down between
them. Her high-heeled toes gripped at the carpet. I adjusted her
position for the most favorable angle and lowered my left arm
across the small of her back, rotating her ass upward with my
leg.
"First, twenty spanks for the missed copy," I announced, and brought
my hand down sharply on Lori's pants-covered right cheek. I waited
for her response, but got none. "Do you want to add even more
to your punishment?" I asked."
"No."
"Then count."
"Oh. Uh, one," she said, her voice muffled by the couch. I landed
the next blow on her left cheek immediately.
"OW! That hurt," she said, lifting her head to look back at me.
"How many?" I asked. "Have you forgotten how to count?"
Her head fell back down between her arms. "Two. And it hurt."
"It will hurt a lot more before I'm through. We're just getting
started here. Now remember to count unless you want it to be worse
for you." I adjusted the angle of her bottom once again, and struck
two quick blows so hard that my hand stung. Lori kept count, but
was beginning to squirm around, sensing the seriousness of her
situation. I kept going until her counting reached twenty, then
stopped and rested my burning hand on the lower curve of her bottom.
She had offered some protest, but had been surprisingly cooperative
during this first session. Now it was time for the second level.
"Stand up," I commanded. Lori rose to her feet and reached around
to rub her rear. "It's time for the next part of your discipline.
Now bare your bottom and resume the position."
Lori paused for a moment, then unbuttoned and lowered her pants
to her knees. Without removing her panties, she started to lower
herself across my lap once again.
"One moment," I interrupted. "Aren't we forgetting something?"
"You're kidding. You want me to take these off, too?" She was
now standing again, and looked at me incredulously.
"Lori, your punishment includes forty spanks on your bottom, and
that's before you receive your paddling. You've added two more
with the switch for your delay. Now lower your panties and get
back into position."
She seemed to think it over, just for a second, then quickly slid
her panties down and got across my lap. I pushed her shirttail
up out of the way with my left hand and gazed down at her glorious
ass spread out across my lap. My right hand glided down across
the now-pink crest of her bottom. From somewhere under her arms,
I heard Lori's small voice moan, "Oh no. This is going to hurt."
I once again moved her into a proper position, and swung my palm
down for the first bare smack. Lori made a small sound, then finally
remembered to count once again. I could clearly see the red imprint
that my hand had made. I began to spank in earnest, sometimes
alternating cheeks, sometimes as many as four in a row on one
side. I moved my strokes around until her entire bottom was bright
pink. Lori faithfully kept count, and let out an occasional small
yelp when my hand hit just so. When I reached twenty, I paused
for a moment, gently rubbing my burning hand across her beautiful
ass.
"Are you beginning to understand what it means not to be forgetful?"
I asked.
"I didn't forget. I just didn't get the work done in time," she
retorted.
Smack! I brought my hand down as hard as I could. Lori jumped
and started to kick her feet up in protest. I pushed them back
down, reminding her not to resist. "I don't think you really understand
what's required of you on this job. Fortunately, you have quite
a bit of discipline yet to take. I promise that you will view
things differently before we're done here." Despite the spanking,
she still seemed unaffected. I began to smack her bottom swiftly,
pausing only long enough to bring my hand back for the next blow.
Lori got a bit behind in her counting, as she began to struggle
against my grip. Her feet, loosely bound by her lowered pants
and panties, kicked up in protest. I stopped.
"Lori, I want you to keep your feet on the floor. If you continue
to fight me, it will just make it worse for you." There was a
moment of silence, broken only by her hard breathing. Her feet
dropped to the carpet. "That's better," I said, taking a moment
to gently rub her now-pink cheeks. I finished up with two sharp
swats that left my palm stinging, then gently caressed her red
bottom. I became aware of our breathing; both of us were panting
as if we had just run a marathon. "Stand up," I said hoarsely,
trying to work up some saliva. Lori stood and began to rub her
cheeks, pouting mightily.
"I think I've had enough now," she said. "I've learned my lesson."
"I'm sorry, Lori, but you have quite a bit still coming to you.
Plus the extra for being late and forgetting to bring what I asked
you. Now come over here." I gently took her wrist and guided her
over to the end of the couch. She shuffled clumsily into place,
her gait abbreviated by her slacks and panties. "I want you to
bend over the arm rest and put your head on the back of the couch."
She extended her hands and slid into place. The end of the couch
provided the perfect break point for her hips, and the high back
kept her round bottom high. She lifted her head to look over at
me.
"I asked you to bring me something to paddle you with. Since you
forgot, I'll have to improvise."
I walked around my desk and took my 18" wooden ruler from the
top drawer. It is wide but thin, and would sting nicely without
being too heavy. I tapped it tentatively on my left palm. Lori's
eyes grew big, but she said nothing. I stepped up beside her a
nd laid the ruler gently along the lower cleft of her ass, moving
it back and forth to let her feel the cold, varnished wooden finish.
"You're going to receive twenty with the ruler," I said, "counting
like you did before. Are you ready?" I took a few preliminary
pats to square my aim; the ruler was long enough to straddle both
cheeks at once if I was careful. With my left hand on her back,
I drew back and waited. Finally, Lori gave a little huff and said,
"OK."
My first swat was a bit tentative; I wasn't sure just how hard
I should be with this new tool. Lori sensed it, too, and she fairly
chuckled as she counted the first swat. Mistake. I swung from
the hip on the next one, and the crack of the wood against her
cheeks fairly echoed off the walls of my office. Lori let out
a surprised yelp before she counted this time. Sensing that the
right severity was probably somewhere in between, I continued,
sometimes targeting just one cheek, sometimes pausing for effect
to make my point. Somewhere around the tenth stroke, Lori went
through a change: her voice got low and soft, and the effects
of each swat seemed to jolt her entire body right down to the
bone. As I paused at fifteen to survey and caress her bottom,
she moaned, and I noticed that her labia were pink, swollen and
protruding. I had not counted on this kind of reaction, but soon
her low musk began to permeate the air.
I spaced the final five blows over about 3 minutes, and they were
hard ones. Lori was trembling by the time she finally counted,
"Twenty," but knew better than to stand up without permission.
I dropped the ruler on the couch and caressed her red cheeks for
a few minutes as we caught our breath. "We're nearly done now,"
I said, "but you still have a bit more coming to you." She turned
to look at me once again. "How much more?" she asked. "Because
you were late and did not cooperate, you're going to get eight
of the best with the switch. Come over here, please." I led her
over in front of my desk, then went back to retrieve a cushion
from the couch, which I placed on the desktop. "Lean forward and
put your elbows on the desk," I said. "If you cooperate, this
will be the end of your punishment."
Lori bent forward and leaned on the desk with her chin in her
hands. She looked at me ruefully, but the indignant glint was
gone from her eyes. Her expression was an odd combination of remorse
and arousal. Part of me wanted to stop and comfort her, but there
was still discipline to be delivered.
Lori watched as I walked to the umbrella rack and pulled out a
thin, bent-wicker cane. It was a cheap prize from our company
picnic last summer, and I had tossed it into the rack without
any real thought. Lori's eyes widened as she realized what was
about to happen. "Oh, God, please, no," she said in a small voice.
"I've learned my lesson. I won't forget again, I promise. No more
mistakes."
I turned to look at her directly. "Lori, this is for your own
good. You have been very bad, and you have to take your punishment.
If you cooperate, then this will be all. I want you to remember
this for a long time." I stepped up to her left, placing my hand
on the small of her back for support. With my right hand, I slid
the cane gently back and forth across her reddened bottom like
a violin bow, selecting my spot carefully. "Are you ready?" I
asked.
Lori's voice, muffled by the cushion, indicated that she was,
though she was shaking badly. I brought the cane back and swished
it abruptly through the air, hitting nothing. Lori jumped, and
her cheeks clenched in anticipation. I laid the cane back against
her bum, then brought it back and paused. The tension hung in
the air like a fog. Then I flicked the cane forward, bringing
it against her bottom with a deft smack. Lori made a tiny noise
before counting. Since I had been a bit hesitant with the first
stroke, I upped the pressure on the second one. The switch whistled
through the air this time, and the crack of its strike left a
thin, white line across Lori's bottom. This time, a gutteral groan
preceded the count, and she rocked her knees in protest, unwilling
to get out of position. I paused to ask questions between the
last six strokes, increasing the intensity of each swat but lengthening
the waiting time. Lori's discomfort became more and more apparent,
as did her arousal. When the last stroke cracked across her lovely
bum, she drew a long breath between her clenched teeth before
moaning, "Eight."
I dropped the cane on the floor and stepped up behind her to caress
her bottom. It was very hot, and I groaned as I moved in close
and rubbed my hands up and down. Lori moaned as I slid my hands
up and down, and I could actually hear the wetness from her sex.
I moved my hands down to caress her thighs, and she pressed back
into me as my fingers moved toward the inside. As I came up between
her legs, my fingers found her swollen clit and slid across it.
Lori came immediately, shaking and moaning involuntarily as she
did so. This was too much for me to take. My left hand clawed
at my belt and pants, freeing my swollen cock. I drew back and
buried it to the hilt in her luscious cunt, her wetness allowing
me to penetrate in a single stroke. As I drew back to thrust again,
a freight train roared down my spine and I drove into her with
all my being, lifting her feet off the floor and coming so hard
that I saw colors and nearly blacked out. I collapsed over her
back and we rested for nearly fifteen minutes before ore collecting
ourselves and heading back to her place for a truly amazing evening.
The End
© js@smilingwithteeth.com "Otkforu" not to be reposted without permission.
