Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
L ily
He’s joking… right? I mean, he has to be. Businessmen are not allowed to punish, much less spank, their employees. Are they?
I eye him, the way he leans against his desk, the way he’s so perfectly rolled up the sleeve of his crisp shirt, those blue eyes that pierce your soul. This man gives off the air that he can do anything he wants.
He’s not joking.
My heart races as the reality of the situation sinks in. I am alone in a room with a man who speaks of punishments and obedience, and now he is suggesting I experience a spanking at my interview.
I think of that beautiful lobby, of how much a company like this might pay.
But having him… spank me?
Panic grips me, and I try to muster the courage to stand up and run, but his strong presence makes me feel small and vulnerable.
My mind races with thoughts of escape, but I know I am no match for him physically. As he moves closer, I feel trapped and helpless. The air in the room grows thick with tension, and my breaths come in short gasps as I brace myself for what is to come.
No. I’m not bracing. I’m leaving.
“Um. You know what?” I ease my way off the chair, standing to leave. “I think I’ve made a mistake, coming here.”
One step and he’s pinned me between him and the chair I was sitting in. He leans forward, the space between us filled with tension and electricity. “You need the money, don’t you?”
“I don’t need money bad enough to sell my body to you, to let you…”
“Let me what?” he asks.
“You know what.”
“Say it,” he demands. “Say the word out loud.”
A seductive grin spreads over his handsome face. He’s playing with me and loving it. He’s getting off on making me uncomfortable.
I steel my gaze. “No.”
“Ah, naughty girl. You just broke my number one rule.”
“Which is?” I ask.
His blue eyes go dark with storm clouds. Fear settles in my stomach as he gives a growl-like sound.
“My number one rule.” He stands, looming over me in the most menacing way. “Never, ever tell me no.”
Where does he get the confidence to threaten me like this? Demand my obedience? I’m no more than a stranger to him, a woman looking for a job.
Anger overtakes my fear.
I won’t allow this man to intimidate me, to harass me in this most inappropriate way. Even if his over the top alpha demeanor is giving me tingles in the panty region.
Shame on you, Lily!
I clear my voice, forcing myself to look right into those gorgeous, demanding blue eyes of his.
“Well, I don’t have to follow your rules, do I. I’m not your employee. I haven’t agreed to work with you. And I’m certainly not going to let you punish me. I think we’re done here.” I go to push past him. “Now if you will excuse me?—”
“Not so fast. No one leaves this office until I permit them to do so.” Strong hands grab my waist. He plops down on the desk.
I spin around to face him. “Hey! What do you think you’re—oomph!”
My words are choked off by him dragging my body over the expanse of his hard thighs. The balls of my feet press into the floor, my hands go to the flat of his desktop, attempting to keep my balance.
He’s going to spank me.
I can’t let that happen.
Everything in me tells me to kick, fight, run, but he’s too strong and the most I can do is wriggle against his lap. Which only serves to make him give a deep dark chuckle, laughing at me and my weak attempts to run for safety.
“You can’t get away from me.” He smooths his hand over my skirt. “And in a moment, I don’t think you’ll want to, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t want to? Are you joking? What woman in her right mind would want to let a man…”
“Spank her?” His hand grips my waist. “Say it.”
“Who would let a man…” The word rests on the tip of my tongue, humiliating and—he tightens his hold on my waist. “S-spank her,” shame fills me after I say the taboo word, “spank her like this?”
“You will. Right now.” He smooths his hand over my ass again. I feel him lift it in the air. My body tenses, anticipating the first spank of my life. His hand comes down, softer than I anticipate.
And that’s not the only thing that surprises me. The spank lands in the center of my ass, sending sparks of heat over my skin. He spanks me again, a hearty smack on the right cheek, followed by a matching spank on the left. I give a shameful moan. I’ve never felt anything like this, the stinging smart that sends pulses through my pussy.
What is happening to my body? Why am I so turned on right now? I had no idea grown men even did this to grown women. Though grown is a stretch for me, but not for him.
He’s got to be almost twice my age and now here I am, lying over his lap, pinned to his hard thighs, him spanking me like a naughty little girl. And my pussy is acting like this isn’t just a-okay; it’s actually just great.
He spanks me again, harder this time, the blast of pain causing a wave of heat to course through my pussy.
“If you break one of my rules—and in this office, there are many—the consequences aren’t just limited to spanking. There are all kinds of delicious things I can think to do with a naughty girl to get her to obey me.”
My words come out a whisper. “Like what?”
His hand comes down on my ass again, and I can feel the sting spread throughout my body. I push back against him, craving more of the delicious pain.
“Like tying you up and teasing you until you beg for release. Like using a flogger or a paddle to make you squirm. Or maybe even pulling out some of my toys and seeing how many times I can make you come before you pass out from pleasure.”
As he continues to spank me, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions—desire, confusion, and a hint of fear. I can feel my pussy clenching for friction, wanting more but also not sure if it’s what I should want.
His words about consequences and his power over me only add to the arousal coursing through my body. I can’t deny the thrill of being under his control, of being punished by him.
But at the same time, I can’t help but wonder about the other women who have been in this position before me. What were their motivations? Were they like me, torn between desire and confusion?
Or did they willingly submit to his dominance?
Is this one of the family secrets? Kinky office antics where the bosses take charge by putting naughty women over their desks for spankings?
I’m snapped out of my thoughts as he abruptly stops spanking me and says, “Now that we’ve established the consequences for breaking rules, let’s discuss your responsibilities as my assistant.”
“Don’t you think we should do this face to face?” I ask, keeping my tone submissive as I’m hanging over his lap and still feeling the effects of the spanking. But I want this job now—I need this job and the spanking thing wasn’t so bad, was it? I’m eager to prove myself as a valuable employee.
“No.” He smooths his hand over my ass in the most delicious way. I hold back a moan, already have making it obvious to him how much he’s turning me on. “Your main responsibility will be taking care of my schedule and making sure everything runs smoothly. But there may be times when I require… other services from you,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice.
My face heats up at his insinuation. Does he mean sexual services? Is that part of my job description now?
But before I can ask any questions, he says, “I have high expectations for you, Miss Watkins. And I plan on making sure you meet them in every way possible,” he says, his hot breath tickling my ear as he leans down.
Feeling my pussy throb in response to his promises, he spanks me once more before telling me more about his terms. “Like I said, discretion is key.”
I ask, “And exactly what family matters will I be concealing?”
“We’ll get to those things in time.” He runs his open hand over my curves, sending shivers down my spine. If all his punishments feel like this, I’ll be forced to disobey. “But first, let’s get this skirt off.”
My body tenses into one frozen Lily Popsicle. “Take my skirt off? No way?—”
I imagine myself, skirt down, panties exposed, lying over him in this office. What panties am I even wearing? God. The humiliation.
Just as he reaches out to grab the zipper resting on my lower back, a loud knock on the door startles us both. He freezes as well and I take the opportunity to leap from his lap, straightening my clothing.
His expression darkens with annoyance. A flicker of uncertainty lights his eyes before he composes himself and calls out, “Not now, Claudia!”
“I just have some papers for her to sign,” she calls from behind the closed door.
He runs a hand through his hair. “Come in.”
The door opens, Claudia strutting into the room in her high heels. She holds a clipboard to her chest, white papers stacked neatly on top as she makes her way to his desk. As she passes me, she gives me a knowing wink.
Did she know what was going on in here? Could she hear the spanks as they landed on my ass?
But if she does know, has she just saved me?
And if she knows… has it happened to her, not with him, obviously, but with another Bachman man?
He makes me take a car back to my apartment—one he pays for, even the tip. I’m left alone in my small, sad place, scoping out empty cabinets for dinner, settling on yet another pack of instant noodles.
Watching a show on my phone, I sip at the steaming bowl of broth in my hands. I shouldn’t trust another man, fall into another trap, only to be left alone again. Especially not a man with such… interesting business methods.
Ones that left my pussy clenching for friction, my mind clouded with desire and confusion. I need to process how I felt about the crazy interaction, the sexy delivery of the boss’s rules. My mind and body argue incessantly.
It’s overwhelming.
I push the bowl of noodles away, pulling out my old laptop. It whirs to life as the screen lights up.
“Time for a good old-fashioned Googling session.” Pretending I’m Bella Swan in the first Twilight movie, I pull up the Google website, typing in Bachman Family of NYC, half expecting the words vampire, werewolf, and other mystical creatures to start swirling over the screen.
Instead, I get results with the words secrecy, mafia, billionaire, philanthropist. “But not hanky spanky, huh?”
My fingertips drag over the screen, wanting to type naughty words but never having done so before. Finally, I plug in kink, spanking, Bachman family.
Heat instantly rises in my face at all of the X-rated items that pop up. I’m half-tempted to close my screen, the other half ready to dive straight in, devouring all of the naughtiness. I scan the results, but none are specific to the family.
I’m no virgin but up until now, my sex life has been pretty mundane. Boyfriend takes what he wants, missionary style, sometimes remembering to get me off as well. No toys, nothing fancy, and now I’m pressing my thighs together at the sight of a sexy little black leather paddle.
I murmur to myself, “God, I’m so vanilla.”
Finally, pages down, one entry grabs my attention, the only story directly linked to the Bachmans. An eBook called: My experience at the Bachman Family’s Club Fire; The kink club you never knew was hidden in the hills of Italy.
“Naughty jackpot!”
I click on the free sneak peek of the book. A journalist, Harper Quinn, her pretty face smiling from the inside jacket of her book, has gone undercover to spend one wicked night as a guest at their club, experiencing anything and everything that they have to offer.
As I’m reading more, heat rushing between my thighs, picturing myself in the candlelit club hidden high in the hills, the link goes bad.
404 Page Not Found
“Huh. That’s strange.” I go through my history, trying to click on the link once more.
Instead, I get this message.
In response to multiple complaints we received under theUS Digital Millennium Copyright Act, we have removed 3 results from this page. If you wish, you may read the DMCA complaints that caused the removals atLumenDatabase.org: complaint, complaint, complaint…
I try everything, thinking I may be going crazy, but can’t find anything about Club Fire. “It’s just… disappeared.”
Was I imagining it?
Or more likely… do they have lawyers surveilling the internet twenty-four/seven, ready to hide every secret they keep? I close the computer, leaning back on my sofa, staring into space. I open the computer, searching again.
It’s totally gone. Like it never existed. Either a member of the family, or someone Bachman friendly has taken it down, scrubbed it from the internet. I think about the journalist that wrote the piece.
I highly doubt her punishment will stop here with the removal of her book.
“That is seriously powerful protection.”
Regardless of the secrecy of their elite society, despite the powerful family’s kinky ways…
I need that job.
I need his protection.
The question is will I be in more trouble under his protection than not? With him, there are other, more primal dangers that exist, lurking under those soul-searching blue eyes of his.
I give a little shudder and remember the feeling of being pinned against his hard thighs.
I tiptoe to the window, glancing down at the street to see if the black car is there. It always is. I already know it will be before I even spot it.
There, pulled up to the curb directly across from the window of my second-floor apartment, is a sleek black sedan, the windows tinted too darkly to see the driver’s face. After triple checking my door locks, I creep back over to my sofa, searching for comfort in my cup of noodles, but they’ve gone cold.
As I clean up, rinsing the last of the broth from the sink, I know I have a decision to make.
I’m a twenty-two-year-old with no real work history or experience with anything close to the Bachman family’s heart-racing bedroom antics. I’ve been bent over and spanked by the boss, against my will, humiliated, made to crave more of his shameful punishments.
But the car outside my window says my ex isn’t fully out of my life.
I’m in danger.
Rockwell has saved me once, at the register of the corner store. Can he save me again? No. I shouldn’t take his job.
But I don’t really have a choice.
Do I?