Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
S tuart
Sharon pinged me the morning of the Your Secret Garden green-light meeting—the big one, with the key stakeholders, men whose calendars had to be booked weeks in advance.
Stuart, sorry to bother you but I think you may have an issue with two of your team members. Melissa Mitropoulos booked a punishment room to discipline Mandy Pollock this morning. Did you authorize that?
I pondered for a moment, wondering whether to tell Sharon that I had in fact authorized a paddling for Mandy, and simply forgotten to enter it into the system. I hadn’t, but sometimes it made more sense to cover my people’s asses—or, more accurately, to paddle them myself—than to let corporate HR get involved. I reflected, though, that Melissa probably needed to resolve a few issues with Sharon. The foolish decision to do whatever this was with Mandy would certainly make things a bit clearer for the girl I had fallen for, even if the result for Melissa ended up being another painful lesson in corporate hierarchy.
I’ll take care of it, Sharon , I messaged back. Thanks.
The reply I’d expected came back within thirty seconds.
Update me when you get the chance.
I opened the human resources management workflow system and found Melissa’s log. She had indeed scheduled a half hour in Room 5003, beginning—I looked at my watch—in three minutes. The offense Melissa had given was Insubordination: Minor.
I tuned into the surveillance feed for the discipline room, settling back in my chair to watch the scene unfold. The door opened and Melissa strode in, her posture radiating authority. Mandy followed meekly behind, her eyes downcast and her shoulders slightly hunched.
As soon as the door closed, Melissa’s demeanor shifted subtly. There was a hint of playfulness in her eyes, a slight quirk to her lips that betrayed her excitement. Mandy, too, seemed to relax slightly, though she maintained her submissive posture.
“Miss Pollock,” Melissa began, her voice stern but with an underlying warmth, “I’m very disappointed in your performance lately. The materials you prepared for the big meeting were subpar, to say the least.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Melissa was clearly relishing her role, channeling the dominant energy I’d awakened in her. Mandy, for her part, was playing the contrite subordinate to perfection.
“I’m sorry, Miss Mitropoulos,” Mandy murmured, her voice quavering slightly. “I’ll do better next time.”
Melissa circled Mandy slowly, making no secret of the excitement she so clearly felt, either in her voice or in the movements of her gaze up and down Mandy’s lovely form. “I’m not sure you understand the gravity of the situation,” she said. “When I pointed out the typo on the third page of the handout, you had the audacity to talk back to me.”
I leaned in closer to the screen, intrigued. Melissa was weaving quite the tale, building tension and anticipation. I could see Mandy’s breath quicken, her chest rising and falling more rapidly.
“I… I didn’t mean to, miss,” Mandy stammered. “I was just trying to explain…”
“Explanations are not excuses,” Melissa cut her off sharply. She moved to the cabinet and retrieved the paddle, running her hand along its smooth surface. “I think you need a reminder of your place, Miss Pollock.”
Mandy’s eyes widened at the sight of the paddle, a mixture of fear and excitement flashing across her face. “Please, Miss Mitropoulos,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do better, I promise.”
Melissa tapped the paddle against her palm, the sound echoing in the small room. “I’m sure you will,” she said, her voice low and intense. “After I’ve taught you a proper lesson.”
I watched, captivated, as Melissa directed Mandy to bend over the desk. The other woman complied immediately, her skirt riding up a little to reveal the curve of her bottom. Melissa took her time, adjusting Mandy’s position, running her hand along the small of her back.
“Lift this skirt all the way, you little whore,” Melissa commanded. “You’re going to get it on the bare this morning.”
Melissa
I still couldn’t believe I’d actually gone through with it, and booked the punishment room. Part of me knew I must be violating some Selecta protocol by not consulting Stuart first—part of me even knew I had acted recklessly. As Mandy’s mouth-watering bottom came into view, though, I didn’t care.
Or maybe…
Maybe I do care. Maybe I care a lot.
I pushed the idea away and focused on the moment: the unbelievably hot, panty-wetting moment.
Mandy slowly pulled her skirt up, revealing more and more of her shapely legs. When she reached her waist, I stepped forward and took over, carefully tucking the fabric to ensure it stayed in place. My hands trembled slightly as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of Mandy’s lacy black panties. I savored the moment, drinking in the sight of her vulnerable form bent over the desk before me.
With deliberate slowness, I peeled the delicate underwear down Mandy’s thighs, exposing the pout of her sweet, bare pussy to my hungry gaze. She shivered as the cool air hit her bare skin, and I couldn’t help but run my hand over the curve of her bottom, marveling at its softness.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I picked up the paddle. Its weight felt good in my hand, solid and authoritative. I tapped it lightly against Mandy’s exposed cheeks, watching goosebumps rise on her skin.
“Are you ready for your punishment, naughty girl?” I asked, my voice husky with arousal.
“Yes, miss,” Mandy whispered, her voice quavering slightly.
I raised the paddle and brought it down with a resounding smack. Mandy gasped, her body jerking forward. The pink imprint of the plastic blade bloomed on her pale flesh. I admired it for a moment before delivering the second stroke, slightly lower. Mandy whimpered, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk tightly.
The third and final swat landed squarely across both cheeks, eliciting a cry from Mandy. I set the paddle aside, my heart racing as I gazed at the reddened flesh before me. My pussy throbbed with need, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer.
“On your knees,” I commanded, stepping back from the desk. “It’s time for you to show your gratitude.”
Mandy turned, her face flushed and eyes bright with unshed tears. She sank to her knees before me, looking up expectantly. I reached for the hem of my skirt, slowly lifting it to reveal the red lace lingerie I’d chosen specially for this moment.
Mandy’s eyes widened at the sight, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. I moved closer, until my lace-covered mound was mere inches from her face.
“Kiss it,” I ordered, my voice thick with desire. “Show me how thankful you are for your correction.”
Mandy leaned forward eagerly, pressing her lips against my pussy through the delicate fabric. I gasped at the contact, my hips jerking involuntarily. She began to kiss and nuzzle, her hot breath sending shivers of pleasure through me.
As Mandy’s tongue traced the outline of my pussy lips through the lace, I tangled my fingers in her hair, guiding her to where I needed her attention most, where it felt like the nearly overwhelming tension of the biggest day of my professional career had gathered with the greatest intensity. I felt like I had never needed anything more than I needed to come.
If Stuart were here, though…
The thought rose, and I saw Stuart’s huge cock in my mind’s eye, looming over me. I almost felt the ghostly bulk of him in my bottom, and I remembered how it had taken two days to feel like myself back there, after he had taken my final virginity.
If Stuart were here, I might need something else even more than I need this… more than I need to make Mandy pleasure me… like… like the good girl she can be… oh, god… the good girl she can be… the good girl I can be… when taken properly in hand… when Stuart takes me in hand… when he uses me hard to teach me a lesson… oh, god…
I knew at that moment that I had absolutely done this—booked the punishment room for me and Mandy—so that Stuart would punish me. I tried to shut the thought out, but it refused to go, and I didn’t really want it to go because it made me shudder, made me clench, brought me so close to orgasm that I could almost see the ecstasy hovering in front of me, as if Mandy’s mouth were my climax’s incarnation.
I pulled Mandy’s face away from my aching pussy, my breath coming in short gasps. “Get the strap-on from the cabinet,” I commanded, my voice husky with need.
Mandy scrambled to obey, her punished bottom jiggling enticingly as she moved. She returned quickly, the harness dangling from her fingers.
“Put it on me,” I ordered, stepping out of my skirt and panties.
With trembling hands, Mandy fastened the harness around my hips, her fingers brushing against my skin and sending shivers through me. The weight of the dildo felt both foreign and thrilling as it jutted out from my body.
“Now,” I said, running my fingers along the length of the silicone shaft, “suck my cock, you little whore.”
Mandy sank to her knees before me, her eyes wide as she gazed at the strap-on. Slowly, she leaned forward and took the tip into her mouth. I gasped at the sight, my hips jerking involuntarily.
As Mandy began to work her mouth along the length of the dildo, I reached behind myself with my right hand. My fingers found my dripping pussy, and I slid two of them inside easily. I worked them in and out, matching the rhythm of Mandy’s bobbing head.
I moved the hand further back, fingertips circling my anus. The memory of Stuart taking me there flooded my mind—the stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness. I pressed a finger against the tight ring of muscle, imagining it was Stuart’s cock pushing into me.
“Oh, god,” I moaned, my hips rocking between Mandy’s mouth and my own fingers. “That’s it, you little slut. Suck my cock.”
I could see Stuart in my mind’s eye, his face stern as he bent me over his desk. I imagined him pulling my cheeks apart, exposing the tiny hole he had opened on his manhood. “This is what happens to naughty girls who think they can take matters into their own hands,” I heard him say as he thrust into me hard, with no further preamble, no soothing preparation.
The fantasy, combined with the visual of Mandy eagerly sucking the strap-on and the sensation of my fingers working both my holes, quickly pushed me to the edge. I felt my orgasm building, a tight coil of heat in my lower belly.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my body trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m going to come. You’re making me come, you bad girl.”
The climax hit me like a tidal wave. My legs shook, and I had to grip Mandy’s shoulder with my free hand to stay upright. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me as I cried out, my fingers buried deep inside myself.
As the aftershocks faded, I gently pushed Mandy away. She looked up at me, her lips swollen and her eyes glazed with lust.
“Please,” she whimpered, her hips rocking slightly. “Please fuck me, miss.”
“No, little slut,” I told her. “You don’t get to come. You were naughty, and we need to get ready for the meeting.”
The look in Mandy’s eyes made me swallow hard. I almost felt like I wouldn’t be able to leave this room until I had made her pleasure me again. Her face seemed so submissive, so needy… and yet so grateful.
I looked at the clock on the wall.
“Oh, shit.” I said. “We need to go.”
Then, the spell of lust broken, I raised her up off the floor and took her into my arms. “Thank you, sweet thing,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m in so much trouble, but I needed that so much.”
“Thank you , miss,” Mandy murmured back. “I didn’t know how much I needed someone like you to be so strict with me.”