Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
M elissa
I caught Stuart outside his office, just as he came back from lunch.
“Melissa?” he said, frowning. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want to bother you,” I began, my heart pounding, “but Joe told me I should probably come straight to you.”
Stuart nodded, and I realized I’d probably been a little foolish to worry about coming to him earlier. Though, to be fair to myself, he had told me to book time with him through Mandy.
“Come on in,” he told me, holding the door for me in a way so gentlemanly I felt a distracting glow in my chest. I told myself to calm down, reminded myself that this arrogant jerk had ‘inspected’ me in the most intimate, mortifying way on my first real day on his team. I pushed away the part of that memory that had to do with my own screaming inner conflict.
When he had closed the door behind him, he turned to me. “What’s up?” he said again. He leaned back against the door, folding his arms across his chest. “How can I help?”
All of the calm I had felt a moment before, when Stuart had been so receptive to my coming to his office, vanished in an instant. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
“It’s about Mandy,” I began, my voice sounding small in Stuart’s imposing office, as if the incredible view of the city out the floor-to-ceiling windows had swallowed it up and made it, and me, utterly insignificant.
I recounted my interactions with Mandy—the ignored email, the personal call, the nail painting. As I spoke, I found myself growing more agitated, the frustration I’d felt earlier bubbling up to the surface. I felt some pride about how I kept my tone even, despite the emotion.
“So she dismissed me,” I finished, covering the flush in my cheeks, the anger and embarrassment, with a laugh and a shake of my head.
Stuart had listened attentively, his eyes not leaving my face. When I fell silent, he nodded slowly. “I see,” he said, his deep voice sending a helpless quiver through my frame. “And what do you think should be done about this?”
I hesitated, acutely aware of the weight of what I had resolved to say. The room suddenly felt too warm, too close. I could hear the soft hum of the air conditioning, the distant sounds of traffic far below. “Well,” I began, my mouth dry, “Joe suggested that I… that I should ask your permission to paddle her.”
The words hung in the air between us. Stuart’s expression remained impassive, but I thought I saw in his eyes a flicker of something that might be amusement or might be appreciation. “I see,” he repeated. “And how do you feel about that idea, Melissa?”
I felt my face grow even hotter. The memory of my own paddling flashed through my mind, unbidden. The sting, the humiliation, the confusing arousal… I pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the present moment.
“I… well, since it seems to be part of the corporate culture here at Selecta,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “I suppose I feel fine about it.”
Stuart studied me for a long moment, his gaze so intense I had to fight the urge to look away. Then, abruptly, he straightened up from his position against the door. “Take off all your clothes,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
I blinked, sure I had misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” Stuart said, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Strip. Now.”
My mind reeled. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. But even as I thought it, my hands started to rise, seemingly of their own accord, moving toward the back of my neck to undo the button there. “I don’t understand,” I said weakly, feeling acutely how the position of my arms thrust my chest forward, as if offering my breasts to my boss.
Stuart moved to sit behind his enormous desk, watching me with cool detachment. “It’s clear to me, Melissa, that you’re experiencing a good deal of inner conflict,” he said. “About Mandy, about your role here at Selecta, about your own desires and boundaries. We need to resolve that conflict if we can.”
My eyes went wide as I absorbed his words. My mind raced, my thoughts desperately trying to process all of the overwhelming physical and emotional effects Stuart had on me. Suddenly, though, I didn’t want to try so hard. I didn’t even want to figure it out.
I lowered my hands to my sides.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling but firm. “I won’t do it. This isn’t appropriate.”
Stuart’s expression hardened. He rose from behind his desk, his tall form seeming to take up more of the room than he had any right to do.
Except that he has every right , a tiny voice in my head said. His office. And I’m… I’m his newest junior executive. I belong to him, too.
“Melissa,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I gave you an order. I won’t ask again.”
I took a step back, my heart racing. “I said no,” I repeated, trying to inject strength into my voice. Even as I spoke, I felt the treacherous heat building low in my belly. I refused to think about it. I refused to think, period.
Stuart moved with surprising speed for such a large man. Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and spun me around. I gasped as he pulled me against his chest, his strong arms encircling me.
“Let me go!” I cried, struggling against his grip. Stuart was far stronger than me, though. With practiced ease, he maneuvered me toward the leather couch against the wall.
My heart pounded as Stuart sat down, pulling me across his lap in one fluid motion. I could feel the heat of his thighs through my skirt, the firm pressure of his hand on my lower back holding me in place.
“Stuart, please,” I pleaded, my voice muffled against the couch cushions. “Don’t do this.”
But Stuart paid no heed to my protests. His hand came down hard on my upturned bottom. The sound, slightly muffled by my wool skirt, echoed in the quiet office. I yelped, more from surprise than pain, though my tummy flipped as I remembered all too well how the agony of my paddling had built over time.
“This is for your own good, Melissa,” Stuart said calmly as he continued to spank me, the words sounding to me like a kind of formal, ritual utterance. “You need to learn your place here. If you want the right to paddle Mandy, you have to show you can obey me.”
The spanking continued, each smack sending a shockwave through my body. I squirmed and kicked, but Stuart held me firmly in place. To my mortification, I felt tears pricking at my eyes.
After what seemed like an eternity, Stuart paused. I lay limp across his lap, panting. Then I felt his hands at the hem of my skirt, slowly drawing it up.
“No,” I whimpered, but it was a token protest at best. I made no move to stop him as he bared my thighs, exposing my lacy purple panties.
Stuart resumed spanking me, his hand connecting with my barely covered flesh. The sting was sharper now, more intense. Worse, the sound became louder, each swat echoing like a gunshot in the corners of the room. I couldn’t hold back a sob.
“That’s it,” Stuart murmured. “Let it out.”
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties. I felt a jolt of panic. “Please,” I gasped. “Not that.”
But Stuart was already pulling my panties down, baring my bottom completely. I buried my face in the couch cushions, burning with shame, confusion, and a thousand other things I didn’t want to acknowledge.
Stuart’s hand came down hard on my bare bottom, the sting exponentially more intense without the protection of my panties. I gasped, tears streaming down my face as the spanking continued relentlessly. Each smack sent real pain through my body, my flesh burning and throbbing under Stuart’s stern lesson.
“Please,” I sobbed, my voice muffled by the couch cushions. “I’ll do it. I’ll take off my clothes. Just please stop.”
Stuart paused, his hand resting on my inflamed skin. “What was that, Melissa?” he asked, his voice maddeningly calm.
I took a shuddering breath. “I said I’ll take off my clothes,” I repeated, my cheeks burning with humiliation. “Please, just stop spanking me.”
Stuart helped me to my feet, steadying me as I swayed slightly. My bottom felt like it was on fire, and I had to resist the urge to reach back and rub the sting away. I stood before him, trembling, my panties around my knees, as he settled back on the couch to watch.
With shaking hands, I reached again for the neck button on my blouse. I fumbled with it, my fingers clumsy in my distress. Finally, I managed to undo it, and then to lift the silky fabric over my chest and drop it at my feet, pushing away every thought about how my breasts looked in the lacy bra.
Next came my skirt. Feeling my forehead crease very hard, I unzipped the garment and let it fall. I stepped out of it carefully and stood there in the matching purple bra and panties. I looked at the glass-topped coffee table so I wouldn’t have to see my boss assessing my revealed body.
It took every ounce of will to keep my hands at my sides, rather than putting them in front of my already exposed pussy. I remember then that I had thought myself too busy to go to the aesthetician for a wax this past weekend. My cheeks flared with heat.
“All of it, Melissa,” Stuart prompted, his voice low and commanding.
Blinking back fresh tears, I reached behind my back to unhook my bra. I let it fall away, baring my breasts to Stuart’s gaze. I couldn’t help it: I needed to know, suddenly, whether my boss liked what he saw. I raised my eyes to look at him. Stuart’s gaze raked over me appreciatively, and I felt a treacherous heat building low in my belly despite my shame.
Stooping, my attention returned to the coffee table as mortification scalded my face, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, just above my knees where Stuart had placed them, in order to spank me more effectively. I pushed them down and stepped out of them, now completely naked before my boss.
Again I found myself helpless to resist, needing to see what he thought. I looked up to see Stuart nod approvingly.
“Very nice, Melissa,” he said. “That purple set is quite fetching on you.”
I flushed more fiercely at the compliment. Part of me wanted to thank him, abjectly, for his praise. Another wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. I didn’t have to decide: I didn’t want to think.
I have no choice.
Stuart’s expression suddenly hardened as his gaze traveled lower.
“However,” he continued, his voice taking on a stern edge, “I see you haven’t kept yourself waxed as I instructed. That was a direct order, Melissa. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I… I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I got… I was so busy this past weekend. It won’t happen again, sir.”
“Go bend over the desk,” Stuart said. “I’m going to give you a correction for dereliction of duty.”
“What?” I gasped. “But… you… you already…”
My heart raced. I stared at Stuart, my jaw slack. My hands curled into little fists as I felt my pussy clench hard, the lingering warmth from the spanking traveling forward and making the situation there much worse.
“You’re an intelligent girl, Melissa,” Stuart said, his eyes narrowing. “I think you can figure out that I spanked you for disobedience, and I’m going to paddle you for dereliction of duty. If you want to punish Mandy for insubordination, you need to learn to subordinate yourself to me.”