An office relationship changes

By John Switch

Deborah Jones had barely sat down at her desk when the intercom buzzed.

“Ms Jones. My office. Now.”

The voice of her boss, Geoff Adams CEO and majority shareholder of Delta Q electronics. The tone was worrying, as was the mode of address. She had been Deborah, Debbie, or even Debs ever since she joined his start-up business as a new graduate fourteen years previously. Something had seriously annoyed him. She checked her appearance in her office mirror, made sure her long lustrous blonde hair was perfectly in place, brushed a couple of dust particles off her business suit, and stepped into the inner sanctum.

He did not invite her to sit, but left her standing in front of his desk like, she thought, a naughty schoolgirl sent to the headteacher.

He looked up from his computer screen. “You do recall the conference next month?”

Oh damn!

“Yes, sir.”

“And you know the importance of the ‘SecureDrive’ and the ‘Hardwall’ defence systems making an impact?”

“Yes, sir.”

He was not reacting to her formality, despite their having been friends for most of their fourteen years as colleagues. This was not good, not good at all.

“So why, when I look at the draft proceedings, do I see no mention of them?”

Oh double damn!

She knew she needed to chase that up, but there was so much on at the moment.

“It was all emailed and…”

“Emailed? I need more from you than sending emails. I’ve got plenty of people who can do that for a fifth of your salary. I believe there’s a vacancy currently. Perhaps you’d like to take it.”

Christ Almighty, he’s serious!

Debbie had friends among the clerical staff who would be supportive if she found herself working there, but the humiliation of such a reduction in status would be too much.

“There’s an alternative, sir.”

She had seen the way he looked at her, eyed up her bottom when he thought she wasn’t aware. All she needed was the courage to make the suggestion, or the ability to push him into making it.

“Really?”

“Yes, sir. That’s the first draft, sir. I’ve often sorted problems like this. I can make sure we’re in the final version.”

“I’m sure you can. When you were on top of things and dealt with problems before I even noticed them. But this time I had to bring it to your attention. Or are you going to stand there and tell me you knew and have it in hand?”

“No, sir. But now I know about it, I can deal with it. If you want to punish me, please do something else and let me do my job.”

“Like what? Dock your pay?”

She shrugged. “You could, though I spend so much time here or working from home that I never have time to spend my salary.”

That barb hit home. He almost winced.

“So what do you suggest then? That I send you to the naughty step? That I spank you?”

Yes! Getting there!

“I don’t believe we have a naughty step, and in any event it would just waste my time.”

“True.” He moved from his swivel chair to a static chair. “Lock the door and get over my knee!”

She obeyed, hiding a little smile as she did so. Her skirt was raised and Geoff began slapping her knickered bottom. She bit a knuckle to suppress a sigh of pleasure as the smacks warmed up her buttocks.

After several minutes of this, Geoff slowly pulled her knickers down to mid-thigh. Debbie had to suppress another sigh as her hot tingling skin was exposed to the air, and yet another as Geoff’s palm made stinging contact with her bare bottom. The spanks continued to rain down. She squirmed as the heat built up and seemed to sink in. After several more minutes she was allowed up. She rubbed her fiery bottom but before she could put her randy thoughts into action, Geoff’s next words doused her mood like a bucket of cold water.

“Now stand in front of the chair and bend over it!”

She turned and stared. He was tapping a thick, thirty-centimetre plastic ruler in his palm.

Oops! Slight miscalculation!

But she had come too far to back out now, so she did as instructed, then gasped as the ruler whacked her right cheek, and then the left cheek in quick succession. A pause, then two more whacks. She gripped the seat hard as the third pair struck home. Two more whacks caused her bottom to sway, probably invitingly, as the fifth pair came immediately afterwards. After another ten strokes, the rulering ceased. As Debbie wondered whether she should rise, she heard the faint but unmistakable sound of a belt being removed from trouser loops.

Hellfire! How many am I going to get?  

Thwack! The belt made a wide streak of heat across her bottom. She jerked and hissed.

Thwack!

“Ow!”

Her bottom gyrated as the belt landed on her bare skin again and again. After ten strokes, the leathering ceased. She stood up, rubbing her bottom. At some point in the proceedings her knickers had slipped down to her ankles, so she stepped out of them, picked them up and, with a final glare at Geoff, stalked out of his office with as much dignity as she could muster.

In her own office, she dropped into her chair, and then stood sharply up again. She rummaged through her handbag but did not find what she was looking for.

Damn! The one thing I need I don’t have!

She lowered herself carefully back into her chair, sitting more on her hip than her bottom, and pressed three buttons.

“Hi, Debs.”

“Marcia, I’d like you to do something for me. Could you go down to the pharmacist and get me some aloe vera? Get the proper stuff, not the homeopathic crap.”

There was a slight pause, then, “Sure, Debs. I’m on it. See you in about fifteen minutes.”

Debbie used the time to search her files to find the evidence of document submission. Even better, she found acknowledgements from the conference organisers.

Marcia arrived within her fifteen minutes and handed a bottle over to Debbie.

“Why the urgency?” Marcia asked.

Debbie considered whether to answer at all, then stood, turned and lifted up her skirt.

“Bloody Hell! That looks painful! Here, let me.”

Marcia took back the bottle as Debbie bent over her desk.

As Marcia gently administered the lotion to Debbie’s well-thrashed bottom, she asked: “So what happened? Exactly?”

“I screwed up over the conference. Geoff wasn’t best pleased. Mmmm. That’s feeling better already.”

“I’m pretty sure corporal punishment doesn’t appear in the Company Disciplinary Code, Debbie.”

“Dismissal does. And that seemed to be the alternative.”

Marcia shook her head. “I know you’ve been telling me that you wanted more from him, but I didn’t think this was what you had in mind.”

“It wasn’t, exactly. But it’s going the right way.”

“Overshot a bit, I’d say.”

“Well, maybe. But you know me, I’ll take advantage of it. Geoff’s right about one thing, I have made mistakes before, but I usually manage to make use of the consequences so it ends up looking like cunning long term planning.”

“Don’t let Geoff know. You don’t want to ruin your reputation for Machiavellian genius.”

“Probably get my arse thrashed again.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. Well, you’ve certainly changed things between you. Let’s hope it goes the way you want.”

After her friend had left, Debbie sat carefully back in her chair. Marcia was right, things had changed, but she felt confident in her own ability to turn things to her own advantage. She smiled.

Just don’t get overconfident again girl!

THE END

© John Switch 2021

I am always happy to discuss stories with readers. My email is Johnnedludd@aol.com