Emma's young and handsome boss has always taken a special interest in her, ever since she first came to work for him at the age of sixteen. After Emma loses the order form of a very important client, he punishes her as he often has before: with a sound spanking. But on this occasion, she settles onto his lap to savor her punishment under his strong hands only soon to find herself in the throes of a very loud orgasm. When questioned, she is forced to admit that she has always been hopelessly aroused by the discipline her boss administers. Now that all feelings are out in the open, will this day prove a nightmare or fulfill the fantasy she has never allowed herself to believe was possible?
Excerpt:
After that long, delightful moment had passed, I opened my eyes. He had stopped hitting me. The room was quiet. I could feel a dribble of liquid running down the inside of my thigh and seeping into the fabric of his pants.
"Stand up, Emma," he said quietly.
Shakily, and with his help, I lifted myself off his legs and started to stand. I wobbled for a moment, and then found my balance, and he took his steadying hands away.
I kept my eyes locked on the ground. I couldn't bear to look at him.
"That's never happened before," he said, his tone deceptively mild.
My cheeks burned hotter but I could not think of anything to say.
"Would you care to explain it?"
My eyes locked on the floor and my face growing redder still, I shook my head.
"I thought I was joking when I said you enjoyed being disciplined," he said. "But it's true, isn't it?"
I bit my lip, trying to tell myself this was all a bad dream and what had just happened had not actually happened.
"All this time I thought I was punishing you when you got out of line, but you've been enjoying it. Answer me."
I drew in a shuddering breath and managed to look at his feet. "Yes, sir," I said. I physically recoiled as the word 'sir' emerged from my mouth again. "I'm sorry," I blurted, close to tears. "I never I mean, it's just I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I don't try to make you angry with me or anything. It's just the way it affects me. The way being around you " I clamped a hand over my mouth, horrified that I had said too much.
Even without glancing up, I could feel the way he was looking at me. I stared at the floor and noticed that my skirt was still pulled up and my panties still bunched. Another hot wave of humiliation rose in me at the sight of myself and I hurriedly straightened my underwear and pulled my skirt down.
"Perhaps this explains a few things," he said. "Maybe I should not be so surprised. Maybe it's my fault that I did not see it before."
I dared a shy glance up at him to see how mad he looked. To my relief, his expression was thoughtful, rather than the anger or betrayal I had dreaded seeing there.
"Well clearly, Emma, the arrangement we have been operating under cannot continue, can it? You've given me a lot to think about."
Nervously, I straightened my skirt again. If only he would say something definite, something to indicate how he felt about this. I could not deny that a small part of me wanted him to be glad or maybe even a little intrigued. But that was just a childish fantasy, too much to hope for.
"I think it would be best if you took the afternoon off," he said after a moment. "But it's clear we need to talk about this - when there isn't work to be done. Come by my apartment, would you, after I've locked up for the night."
I bobbed and nodded. "Yes, s-" I shook my head, as though to clear it, and began to move towards the door.
"And Emma?" he said.
"Yes?"
"You haven't lost any more orders you might want to tell me about, have you?"
I shook my head, even my ears burning at this final jab, and left the room.