“No. I really am sorry. It was rude. I just got distracted thinking about what we did last night.” She grinned, hoping to distract him, but it didn’t work.
“Well, I’ve give you something else to think about.” He got up from his desk and walked to the door, flicking the lock then tugging to check it was secure. He pointed to his desk. “Bend over this.”
“But I’m still sore from the spanking you gave me yesterday!” Jilly protested.
Matthew merely raised an eyebrow in response and pointed to the desk again.
“Can you take care of this at home? Please? After two weeks off work I’m sure I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. This really isn’t necessary, Matthew.”
Matthew’s face darkened as he put both hands on his desk and leaned forward to face her. “You will address me as ‘sir’ when you are being disciplined,” he growled. “And no, I will not be taking care of this at home. Disobedience at work will be punished at work. Maybe sitting on a sore bottom to do your work will help you to behave.”
Jilly swallowed as he stood up and retrieved his heavy ruler from a drawer in his desk. He waved it at her then tapped it against his palm.
“Slip off your underwear and give them to me. You won’t be needing them today.”
Slowly, she shimmied her knickers down her thighs and let them fall to the floor. She stepped out of them and picked them up, blushing as she handed them across the desk to Matthew. She blushed even further when he slipped them into his desk drawer. What if someone found them? Did any of the secretaries fish through his drawers for things?
“Nobody goes through my desk,” he assured her, seemingly reading her mind. He tapped the ruler on the desktop. “Get into position.”
Slowly, with her heart pounding in trepidation, Jilly obeyed. She stretched herself out over the cold mahogany desktop and gripped the other side tightly. She heard Matthew walk around behind her and froze at the touch of his hand on her hip. “Give me your ass,” he growled as he folded her skirt up over her back, out of the way, baring her bottom.
Jilly sucked in a breath as Matthew lay the ruler across her bottom, resting it there lightly. She held it as he lifted it away and she heard the whoosh a split second before she felt the line of fire as the ruler cracked harshly against her still-achy bottom. She yelped and sprang up, letting go of the desk, thinking of nothing but her need to escape.
“Get back into position,” Matthew growled. “I will tell you when you can move, Miss Watson.” He placed his hand on her back, maybe to hold her in position, maybe to comfort her, she wasn’t sure. In any case, it was easier with his hand there, and she derived strength from it as the ruler fell again and again, harsh swats that left blazing stripes in its wake.
She danced on her toes and wiggled her hips frantically, desperate to escape the stinging ruler but her efforts were futile—Matthew held her firmly and his aim was sure.
Over and over again the wicked ruler fell, until she was lying spent over his desk, sobbing, truly repentant, unable to fight anymore.
She laid there, her legs like jelly, her body shaking, until Matthew slipped his hands under her shoulders and eased her up, guiding her to stand in front of him, cradling her head against his chest. She leaned on him, crying into his shirt, until all her tears were gone. It felt like hours that they stood there, entwined, and Matthew held her gently the whole time, crooning words of comfort in her ear.
When her tears had stopped, Matthew pulled a tissue out of the box on his desk and wiped her face. He held another one to her nose. “Blow,” he commanded softly.
Then he indicated his desk again. “Bend back over, Miss Watson,” he growled.
She wanted to protest, to resist, but she did neither. Instead, she lay her torso over the desk again and stepped her feet apart at the urging of his foot between her ankles. She peeked around when she heard the rustling of foil to see him sheathing himself, then he sank deep inside her quickly, without warning. He grabbed handfuls of her scorched flesh and squeezed as he took her hard, rough. This was a punishment fuck. There was no doubt in her mind about that—this was for his pleasure, not hers. His thighs slapped against her stinging bottom as he pounded into her, bringing fresh tears to her eyes but still her traitorous body betrayed her, making her breathing ragged and sharp, tightening her nipples, making her breasts ache, sending pulses of energy to her core.
She gasped as he slid his hand between her cheeks and pressed his thumb against the entrance to her tight virgin hole. “Daddy will fuck you here, one day,” he rasped, his voice husky with passion. The pressure against her bottom hole was uncomfortable, but not painful, as he pressed harder. She arched back against him as he thrust frantically, shuddered, then stilled. He withdrew immediately, stepping away from her, leaving her empty, bereft, wanting.
Frustration and pain wrestled within her as she turned to watch Matthew grab some more tissues to clean himself up. She wanted to reach out and touch him but she didn’t dare. He obviously wasn’t going to pleasure her. Not here, anyway. He was going to leave her like this as part of her punishment. With her bottom stinging, burning, and throbbing, her pussy aching and wanting, her breasts hot and tight, her breathing ragged and mind whirling.
“Come here,” he commanded, holding his arms out to her and she ran into them, desperate for his touch, to be held. Wanting, needing release. He held her close for a moment and dropped a tender kiss on her forehead, his gentle touch so
