Over The Boss' Knee

Over The Boss’ Knee

By Jenny Jeans

This
book is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents are a product
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any
persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is
entirely coincidental.

No
part of this book maybe be reproduced, scanned, or printed in any printed or
electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate
or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights.
Purchase only authorized editions.

Copyright
© 2013 by Jenny Jeans. All rights reserved.

Published
by Arrow Books

––––––––

*T
his
short story includes: BDSM
elements, including domination, restraint, corporal punishment, otk, over the
knee, disciplinary spanking by the boss, sexual spanking by the blackmailer,
bondage, bondage sex, rough oral, rough sex, HFN in the end or on the butt.

"M
r.
Cheng, you must understand our legal limitations on this," Mr. Carlson
said.

Tess
noticed her boss' normal authoritative voice had pleading tones. With a sinking
feeling she suddenly realized his major business deal was collapsing.

"No,
don't go," Mr. Carlson said, standing and looking through his sleek eyeglasses,
back and forth, at the clients who were speaking rapid Chinese as they rose
from their chairs. "Tess!" He shouted sharper than she'd ever heard
him speak before. "Tess will get lunch for everyone. Right now!"

Tess
heard his command and jumped from her chair to stand, fitting her three-inch
high heels beneath her.

"Please,
stay for lunch!" Mr. Carlson urged, sharply, but they were shaking their
heads and the staccato stream of Chinese words continued as they moved toward
the door.

Ten
minutes later they were gone and James Carlson was madder than she'd ever seen
him. Maybe it was frustration; however his normally handsome features were
flushed with angry tints.

"In
this economy, we cannot afford to lose them." His jaw was clinched as he
paced the plush carpet in his large corner office, then he stopped and turned
to stare out of the corner windows at the expansive view.

Tess
winced at the angry frustration he expelled. She stood just inside the closed
doorway of his office with her Blackberry posed, ready to take any notes he
might need. She'd worked as his secretary for five years and respected his work
ethic, his commitment to his family, and his dedication as CEO of Benchcroft
Media.

He'd
treated her fairly over the years. Her only mild complaints were about the
overtime and his insistence to have things done a certain way. Because she was
younger by at least ten years, she often felt their relationship was somewhat
similar to father and daughter.

"God,
it's just so frustrating!" he expelled as he started to pace again. She
could see veins throbbing in his forehead.

"Maybe
you should regroup. Take the rest of the day off to rethink the..." she
began.

He
interrupted her, angrily. "No! That’s not going to help." Suddenly,
he yanked off his charcoal suit jacket and tugged his blue medallion tie loose
so that it hung to one side. "Christ, I need to
hit
something."

He
stomped behind his desk, still agitated. Tess wondered if there was a
secretarial manual somewhere that dealt with unhinged bosses. She wanted to
flee his upheaval, but she knew she shouldn't without being dismissed. She
hated seeing him so upset.

"I
could call your wife," she tried.

At the
same moment, he blurted, "Tess, I swear to God I’m
so
mad I will
give you seven-hundred dollars to let me spank you!"

Tess
stared blankly at her boss, who was still standing behind his desk looking
red-faced and, yes, very aggravated. Then the shock of what he'd said
penetrated her like an electrical jolt.

"
Right
here and now or I'm going to explode!" he exclaimed, as he grabbed
angrily behind his waist, and then he jerked his wallet forward. "Christ,
I'm not angry with you. I've just got to relieve this frustration
now.
"

The deal
they'd been working on for six months had just fallen through and she knew how
upset he was. It meant so much more to him than it did to her; she was just an
executive assistant, actually a secretary. But she'd worked with him for five
years so she knew he was a happily married man and not a woman chaser, chasing
any willing skirt. She told herself his request wasn’t really sexual. Then she
watched with amazement as he tore hundred-dollar bills out of his wallet,
slapping them down on his marble desktop.

Her eyes
widened at the amount of money and what it meant to her.
Ohmygod she could
buy the Tony Burch, Merino-wool dress she'd been dying for.

"Not
enough?" he hissed, and then he jerked two more one-hundred dollar bills
out of his wallet, slapping them down with a flourish.
And that was enough
for the drawstring ankle boots to go with the dress.
Tess almost squealed
with excitement, but then she remembered what he was asking her to do for the
money.

"I-I'm
not sure what you want," she stuttered. But oh God, she knew she wanted
that money.

"Here.
Now.
Over my knee, and I spank you as hard as I wish with my open
palm."

Tess actually
quivered as she nervously smoothed down the soft knit material of her black
pencil skirt.

"Nothing
sexual," he claimed. "I'm just going to explode if I don't get rid of
this frustration!"

Tess
didn't know how to tell him she agreed; she was too embarrassed. With her gaze
fixed on the spread of green bills, she slowly set her Blackberry down on top
of the desk. She couldn't look Mr. Carlson in the face as she started around
his desk. She might always wonder whether she would have gone through with it
or not, but she was saved from wondering about her decision, because Mr.
Carlson simply came forward and grabbed her.

She knew
the door to his private office was closed and with all the outer office noises
no one could hear them. However, she would never have let loose a squeal, like
the one she had, unless she’d meant it. Which she did. But her squealing didn't
appear to bother Mr. Carlson one bit, because his strength tugged her forward
at the same time he sat, while he turned his high-backed Harvard chair away
from the front of his desk. A second later, she fell off her three-inch heels
as her tummy hit his hard thighs.

She got
one more look at the money spread across his desk before weight defied her and
her head went down with the end of her ponytail falling on the carpet.

"Oh!
Mr. Carlson!" she exclaimed, while overwhelming feelings of vulnerability
quaked through her, and she was about ready to call it off when the first slap
landed across her bottom. The words clogged in her throat. She couldn't say it
hurt exactly, more keenly she felt uncomfortable over the ignoble position as
her slip-on high heels fell off her feet.

Whap.
"Oh!" The material of her skirt
kept Mr. Carlson's spanking hand from making a loud slapping sound. But she
could
feel
it.

"That's
it, you
bad
girl," Mr. Carlson uttered tightly above her.
Whap.

Tess
whined and she couldn't help trying to roll her bottom away from Mr. Carlson's
slapping hand. "Naughty."
Whap.
"Naughty."
Whap.
"Naughty!"
Whap. Whap.

Tears
built in Tess’ eyes as the swats became faster and harder. She jerked her hand
behind her trying to deflect the spanks. This was nothing like any childhood
spanking she'd ever received.

Whap.
Whap.

Mr.
Carlson grabbed her hand, which she was using to try to shield her squirming
rump, and he pulled it out of the way. "Oh no you don't! You deserve this,
bad
girl."

"Oh,
ow!" she cried.

Whap.
Whap.  

Running
on pure instinct, she tried to scoot off Mr. Carlson's thighs. But his strong
hand grabbed her silk shirt encased waist, forcing her back up on his thighs.

Whap.
Whap.

"Ow!
Ow! That's enough, Mr. Carlson!" she cried.

"It's
not nine-hundred worth yet," he uttered, with his voice sounding harsh.
"Bad girl!"

Whap.
Whap.

"Ow!"
she cried. "I want to stop!"

Suddenly,
Mr. Carlson went still and she lay gasping as she slumped over his lap. His
fingers were clasped around both her wrists, holding her hands away from her sore
rump as her head hung down.

"Are
you backing out on our deal, Miss Brown? Because if you are I will refuse to
pay any money until and unless I receive my full time to spank you."

Tess
felt any hope of being released sink as her body quivered in trepidation. She
wasn't going to give up that money after all the abuse her bottom had already
taken. "How long?" she asked, sounding like a little girl.

Mr.
Carlson's legs shifted under her belly. "Ten more minutes." His voice
sounded gruff, while she cringed. She just knew he was going to spank her
harder the last ten minutes. Maybe it was the submissive position she was in,
but it felt as if she'd lost all her normal strength of character.

"Please,
don't spank me hard," she whined.

"Ha!"
Mr. Carlson's voice sounded as if he'd won, and not as if he'd agreed not to
spank her as hard.

Whap.
Whap.

"Oh!"
Tess wailed, churning her rump away from
the hard spanks. But there was no place to escape too. She was having a hard
time with her feet because they were not touching the ground for balance and it
made her legs fall open. But the tightness of her pencil skirt kept them from
really gaping.

Whap.
Whap.  

"Oh,
ow! Ow! Ow!" Her head bounced with each swat as the material of her skirt
was less and less a barrier, and she mewled with each painful swat.

Whap.
Whap.  

"Naughty,
naughty girl." Mr. Carlson rasped each word punctuated by a hard spank.
"You are so bad! You need to learn."

Tess
found herself promising Mr. Carlson to be a good girl through the grunts
woofing out of her mouth after each strike across her squirming butt. It hurt,
and she thought she wanted it to stop, but gradually the most embarrassing
thought and feelings began thrashing through her. It happened with each sting
of Mr. Carlson's spanking hand.

What
would it be like if he raised her skirt?

Oh no!
She couldn’t believe she was wishing his palm would be slapping against her
naked butt, right in the middle of the pain torturing her from being spanked.

Whap.
Whap. Whap.  

She
tried to ignore it as he told her what a bad girl she was. She would die from
more humiliation if he ever discovered that she wanted him to jerk her skirt
upward and slap her naked bottom.

Whap.
Whap. Whap.  

Then, he
stopped and she was left gasping, while feeling the stings of hard spanking
turning into a burn across her buttocks, and she realized with horror that she
was turned on. She could feel her arousal had dampened her panties.
She
couldn't let Mr. Carlson find out!

Shame
coated her as she felt Mr. Carlson's heavy breathing above her. "That
relieved so much tension," he declared. Tess tried to collect herself, as
she heard him saying, "Here, let me help you up. I cannot thank you
enough."

She was
surprised to feel, right before her belly rolled off his lap, the distinct
impression of a hard-on in Mr. Carlson's gray suit pants. Too many other
feelings rolled that reality right past her as she tried to find her footing,
while wondering where to look or what to say. How should she act? Besides she
really wanted to rub her sore bottom, but she forced her hands away. She stood
on bare feet and looked toward the door and away from Mr. Carlson. The throb of
arousal was more acute standing and it was so contrary to the soreness of her
bottom.

"Um,
so then," she stuttered, shifting her feet around as she tried to get her
high heels on. "I better get back to working on that Langston
report."

"Yes,
and I'm going straight home now, Tess. You can cancel any appointments I have
left for today."

Tess
darted a surprised glance at Mr. Carlson. He never went home in the middle of
the day. She couldn't look at him for more than a second, but his normal
studious gaze was bright and his jaw line was flushed red. Instantly she thought
about his earlier hardened condition and realized he could be hurrying home to
his wife. So they'd both gotten turned on by the spanking, yet she'd still be
embarrassed to let him know.

"Of
course, Mr. Carlson, I will reschedule them." She looked down at her
Blackberry still not able to look up at him.

"Here
take your money then, Tess. You've earned it."

Tess saw
the money thrust beneath her downward turned gaze. She reached for it.
"Thank you, sir," she mumbled.

Then he
was gone and she was left with a sore bottom that got even sorer when she sat
on tender buttocks at her desk, looking at the nine-hundred dollars in her
hand. What amazed her more was the arousal she felt that just wouldn’t go away.
In fact as scenes of the spanking kept replaying relentlessly in her thoughts,
she got even hornier, until she was literally squirming on her desk chair.

Quickly,
she thrust the money into her leopard-print Valentino purse. Unable to stand it
any longer, she stood and scooted into Mr. Carlson's empty office. She shut the
door quietly making certain no one saw her enter in the office area out further
down the hall.

Then, she
fell back against the closed door with her hand already rubbing her pussy
outside of her skirt.

"Oh
my god, I'm
so
horny," she moaned.

On the
one count, she was amazed that a spanking had turned her on so much and on the
other hand she was amazed because she'd not known she was into spanking type
things at all.

"But
God
," she expelled, teasing the impression of her aching pussy with
her fingers. "Everything about it was
so
hot!"

Her
parfait-pink push-up bra felt as if it were personally stroking her nipples as
they hardened into tight spears. She want to pull her silk blouse open, but settled
for pushing her hand past the collar of her blouse and past the delicate lace cup
of her bra, to twist the tip of her nipple.

"Oh.
Oh.
"

She used
her other hand, quickly tugging at the hem of her skirt. She pulled it up until
she had her string bikini panties uncovered with the cooler air in the office
washing over her hips and between her thighs. She was so excited her panties
were damp and she pushed her fingers inside them, until she finally touched the
slick lips of her pussy.