Discipline at Work

From: [email protected] (JLark3)

Brian arrived at work late, which was not all that uncommon for him. Tossing a few Good Mornings and Hey Theres off to fellow workers at Endershot Foshion, he headed up the stairs to his office. The job was a good one: personal assistant to Roya Malek, a very attractive sales and customer service manager.

As he stepped off the last of the stairs and headed for the office suite he worked in, he saw Roya (Ms. Malek) at the end of the hallway in discussion with a sales rep. Noticing movement, she glanced up at him and frowned once before returning to her associate.

Inwardly Brian winced. He knew he would have to shape up. He knew it, yes, but actually doing so was the problem. In previous jobs he had been able to slide by in certain areas because of tolerant bosses who also did a lot of frowning but never took action. Ms. Roya Malek, he was coming to believe, was not such a boss. Although pleased with the quality of his work, which was generally very good, she had mentioned several times now her displeasure with tardiness, procrastination, and general untideness. He had only had the job for a few months and had already received three such warnings and a note in his file.

He really did want to change, particularly since he needed this job to support his painting. At 26 now, he figured that he'd better get in line before he was an unemployed failed painter rather than an employed aspiring one.

As he strolled past Christy, the 21-year-old blond and beautiful clerk who assisted them, she smiled only slightly and nervously before scurrying off to run some errand. As he watched her leave, a nervous flutter hit his stomach and his attention turned away from Christy's fine posterior and returned to his lateness. I'm in trouble today and she knows something, he thought. Oh shit.

Sitting down at his desk he felt a slight weakness of knees and dryness of mouth. Fired? No, he could not be getting fired because he would change, Ms. Malek, he really would. Please, please, please.

Switching his computer on with slightly sweaty hands, he watched the startup screens with disinterest. As he was opening his scheduler to see what he had to do today (and should have done yesterday), the boss-lady herself walked in.

"Brian," she said with that slight Persian accent which he normally found so alluring. "We need to talk about some issues. I have to make a phone call and then I'll call you in so don't go anywhere." With that she strode into her own office and closed the door.

The fluttering in Brian's stomach suddenly turned into a cold sinking feeling that settled somewhere between his balls and his behind. Damn. Even if he got to keep his job, he had the feeling that Judgement Day had arrived and he would either have to shape up or ship out.

After ten minutes of pretending to review his workload, the intercom on his phone beeped and Roya summoned him in. Aware that his hands were slightly trembling, he headed in to find his boss leaning back in her chair looking thoughtful.

"Please have a seat," she said. As he sat, she paused to answer her own intercom. As she discussed something with a colleague, Brian took in the situation and it scared him. For one thing, she had him dead to rights and he knew it. For another, her striking good looks were matched by equally striking attitudes. The athletic 38 year old divorcee was known to be very nice but very firm, particularly with men. She often said (according to office rumor) that "I love them dearly, but most of them need direction."

The phone conversation was over. The eyes, a mixture of will and compassion, turned on him.

"Several times now I've spoken to you about problems with your work ethic," she began. "And now it's to the point where I have to take action."

He cleared his voice to speak but she raised a strong, slender hand to cut him off.

"No Brian, " she said. "You're going to say you're sorry and I'm sure you are. You'll say that you will change and I'm sure you want to." She paused. "But you've said those things before and they don't happen, do they?"

Brian shook his head glumly.

"Okay then," she continued, leaning forward. "Now at this point I should probably let you go but I don't want to do that. I like you Brian and I think you have terrific potential but you need discipline in your life. You need it here and you need it for your painting or you'll never get anywhere."

He nodded. This was a speach he'd heard before from numerous sources.

"The problem being, Brian, that you don't seem able to apply that discipline yourself and the types that I can give throught the company haven't worked either. So if you want to continue with this job your discipline will come from me and it will be unofficial but I imagine quite effective. I will teach you how to conduct yourself and when you fail I will deal with you myself. I'm willing to do this because I understand that young men sometimes need to be led by the hand and occasionally put over a lap."

Uh oh. Brian hadn't heard that speech for a good number of years.

"I am not making this offer because I enjoy hurting people or want to abuse you, Brian. But the fact is that my only other recourse is to fire you."

Well, that pretty much laid it out in the open. Brian flashed through several emotions at once: fear of being fired, fear of being spanked, and fear of the fact that the idea of his levely boss spanking him had already sparked an impressive erection. As he had many times in the past, Brian found himself submitting to a strong female will and placing himself in her hands.

"Okay," he answered in barely a whisper.

"Good," Roya said. "Now get back to work. Finish today's projects as well as yesterday's. By the time you get that done it should be around...seven? Yes. Seven is when we'll get started. I'll be in meetings all day so I won't be around, but I expect the work to be done. At seven I'll be here and so will you. You'll get what you deserve for your behavior so far and we'll set some ground rules and a plan for the future. Okay?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied while standing and turning to leave. She followed, then hurried off to a meeting with a notebook in her hand.

The day passed. Brian poured himself into his work like a madman while his thoughts raced around in his head. Over and over he tried to put his mind in order and forget about what was coming but to no avail. After five pm the place began to thin out as people wen home. By seven the second floor was completely empty.

Roya entered the room, looking haggard from a day of meetings. At the sight of here, Brian's heart began beating more rapidly and that cold sinking feeling returned.

"Just give me a moment, Brian," she said as she headed for her door. "And please lock our door."

Like a shamefaced, nervous schoolboy, he moved to the outer office door and turned the lock. From Roya's office he could hear her making dinner plans with someone. Then there was silence.

"All right, come in."

Trying to get a handle on his nerves, Brian took a few dep breaths and walked into her office. She pointed at the door and he closed and then locked it.

She was still wearing the snug-fitting gray skirt down to her knees along with black pantyhose, but had removed her jacket leaving only a white blouse. She looked, in no uncertain terms, stunning, and Brian once again felt the pulse of an erection mounting.

At her direction he took a seat. She explained to him then the new rules. From now on he would be on time to work and would complete his projects promptly. He would report to her regularly about what, how, and when he was doing so that she could properly instruct and correct him. If he failed to do these things she would decide upon and dish out the appropriate punishment. "Do you understand?" she asked.

He nodded.

"All right then, let's do this." She stood and made her way around the desk. She had removed her pumps and now stood only on her stocking-clad slim feet. She had also picked up a large, flat hairbruch from the desk. "Take your shoes and socks off," she ordered.

As he complied she went to an antique wooden chair which she kept in a corner as decoration. It was tall, had no arms, and creaked slightly as she placed it near the center of the room.

"Now take off your pants and underwear", she ordered. Her demeanor was growing more and more serious by the moment.

He undid his slacks, slid them to the floor, and stepped out of them. The gray athletic boxer shorts followed them. Brian stood there now, feeling more exposed and nervous than perhaps ever before, particularly since his organ was still partially erect.

Roya, however, did not seem to notice this as she sat down on the chair after pulling her skirt up until he could see a hint of white panty beneath.

"Come here," she commanded as she brandished the brush.

He did as he was told. She spread her legs apart and indicated that he should kneel down between them which he also did. Then she patted here left leg suggestively.

"All right, over you go."

Brian then found himself being led over her knee, which was warm, muscular, and due to the stocking felt strange against his skin. His penis was now causing some discomfort and he wiggled a bit to adjust himself.

"Hold still"

He was supporting himself with his hands against the floor, his legs extended out on the other side of her leg: all in all a very embarassing position. His heart began to jump a bit and his breathing got heavier.

"Just relax," she told him firmly, "and hold position while I'm spanking. The more you struggle and the louder you are, the worse I'll make it" Then she draped her right leg over his, effectively pinning him in place. She rubbed his buttocks for a few moments and then began slapping lightly with the brush.

Just when he had gotten used to the slight stinging, Brian heard a loud SMACK as she delivered a healthy swing. The sound was immediately followed by a flash of hot pain on his left buttock and he gasped. A similar blow to the right cheek did the same.

She kept up that intensity for about five more strokes and then began to spank very hard and very quickly. Unable to remain silent any longer, Brian began to cry openly. His entire bottom felt like it was on fire and the spanks kept comming. Sobs escaped from his and his legs began to twitch.

"Hold still," she said firmly. "You deserve this and more and you'll get more." As if to emphasize her point she began to hit harder, making her way across both of his buns in a methodical pattern. His crying grew louder and he winced at the harder blows.

"Please," he choked. "I'm sorry."

"Good," she said without ceasing. "You need to be, now be quiet and take it."

Eventually he began to relax. The pain was still amost unbearable, but struggling wouldn't help him so he simply laid there and sobbed while she administered the punishment.

The spanks became less frequent, then lighter. Finally she stopped, letting him relax and cry for a few moments. Her hands massaged his rump soothingly and when she finally spoke there was some kindness mixed with the stern.

"That's it, Brian, you're all done," she said. "Don't get up just yet, though. Rest a bit. She removed her leg from around his and he tried to calm down while his tears subsided.

"Are you going to work with me like we agreed?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And you understand that we'll do this again whenever you don't?'

"Yes ma'am."

"All right, then up you go."

He stood up slowly, every motion bringing a fresh round of hot pain below. He put his boxers and pants back on, another painful process. Roya allowed him so time in silence to clean his face in the sink of her small washroom. When he had finished they left the office together. She headed off in her BMW to dinner with one companion or another, while he took his less impressive Beretta back to an apartment where he could hastily assemble a much-needed icepack. If this kind of motivation couldn't get him to change, he thought, then he really had problems.

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