Over The Desk Spanking Stories

A young woman has an unexpected encounter with an old acquaintance

By Steven Wilson

My name is Sally Nugent and I have previously written two accounts of the events that occurred between Mr Robinson and myself which I would hope you are already familiar with. Those events took place five years ago when I was eighteen years of age and I am now a young woman of twenty-three, no longer the naïve teenager I may have been at that time.

Over the last five years I successfully completed my business studies course and am now training to be an accountant with a small local firm. It is not a career that I could have seen myself following in my younger days, and at times I still doubt whether it is the correct choice, but I seem to have an aptitude for it and, as my mother says, it is a sensible career path to embark on.
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Sally learns previous events had indeed not reached a conclusion

By Steven Wilson

My name is Sally Nugent and for those of you who may not already have done so, might I suggest that you read my previous account entitled ‘The Lodger’ if you are to fully understand the further events I am about to relate.

I am now twenty-three years old, some five years older than when Mr Robinson came to stay at my parent’s bed and breakfast establishment in Eastbourne. I have now completed my business studies course and am training to be an accountant. It is not a career that in my younger days I could have seen myself following, and at times I still have doubts about my suitability for it, but I am progressing well and if nothing else it pleases my parents that I have embarked on a sensible career path.
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A girl learns it is not wise to pry into things that do not belong to her.

By Steven Wilson

I stood in the doorway and waved my parents off as they headed to the airport. I remained watching as the taxi made its way down the road until it was eventually out of sight, at which point I turned and closed the door. My name is Sally Nugent and my parents run a Bed and Breakfast establishment in Eastbourne. The story I am about to relate started, I think, at this point in time, three weeks ago now, and it’s one that I consider has not yet reached its final conclusion.
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A secretary is offered an unusual training program to help correct her errors.

By Steven Wilson

Richard Allen lifted his eyes from the papers strewn across his desk and allowed himself to be distracted by the sight presented before him. On the far side of his desk, perhaps eight feet in front of him, was Sandra Holt, his secretary. She had her back to him and was bending over scrabbling around in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet searching for a file of some description. Most women would probably have squatted down on their knees to do such a task but Sandra had bent at the waist and now her bottom was thrust upwards and outwards towards Richard’s desk, a vision he found hard to take his eyes away from.
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