The others filed out of the conference room. Their smirks and hushed commentary left little doubt they knew what would occur behind the closed door once they were safely gone. Amelia ignored them, choosing instead to stare at the plain finish of the table top. The grain flowed naturally from left to right and the surface felt cold and smooth beneath her folded arms. She raised her eyes when the door slammed closed leaving her alone with him.
Mr. Kingsley opened the matching cabinet on the far wall. He glanced back toward Amelia and said, “Turn your chair around and kneel on the seat.”
She looked at the back of his head, turning too late to catch his eye. The moment had been building for three weeks. Unspoken arguments circled around behind her eyes while she debated whether to obey or leave. In the end, she pushed back from the table and stood, turning her chair around so that its cushioned back rested against the sharp edge of the conference table. She felt foolish kneeling on the seat. Her hands grabbed on the top of the chair’s back, growing clammy and damp with sweat.
He closed the cabinet and turned around. Amelia tried not to look at the paddle in his hand and instead focused on the open collar of her boss’ shirt. Even without a tie he exuded professionalism and confidence. It was the set of his shoulders, the lack of passion in his cheeks and the straightness of his back that made him seem bigger, taller, and more powerful than he truly was in reality. She saw an imposing figure of authority looking her over and judging her. He was more than a man and she trembled in his presence, even without the paddle in his hand.
“Lift your skirt,” Mr. Kingsley said.
Amelia swallowed the last remnants of saliva in her drought stricken mouth and looked away from her boss. The filtered sunlight shining through the drawn white shades became a conical spotlight illuminating her embarrassment for his eyes. Her knees trembled in the seat cushion and her fingers stiffened until they felt mechanical. She let go of the chair back and tugged the hem of her skirt upward, exposing her naked thighs and pink panties to his view. The mere act transformed her physically and mentally from a professional sales associate to a naughty little girl.
The leather felt cool through her panties when he held the paddle against her buttocks. She leaned forward until her hands rested flat on the table and the chair back pressed firmly against her tummy. Outside the door, she imagined her coworkers listening to the silence and straining to maintain that silence in hopes to hear the crack of leather warming her flesh. The wait for the first swat pooled anxiety beneath her palms. She looked at the white wall in front of her and watched the unmoving gray shadow that was her tormentor, her boss.
He withdrew the paddle from her buttocks. She held her breath. He whisked the paddle forward until it snapped, impacting her bottom. She blinked at the sound. Her held breath puffed out of her open mouth. The undulating wave of force from the paddle’s impact coursed forward through her body dissipating via her fingertips into the table top. A moment later she clenched her buttocks feeling the first tingles of warmth.
She watched the shadow on the wall as it delivered each spank. Four more swats fell, each building on its predecessor. The tingles turned to sting beneath her panties. In her imagination she pictured fireworks exploding on the pink skin of her bottom in various and random locations just as if it were the black canvas of a night sky on the fourth of July. The flashes of fire begged to be snuffed out by the frantic rubbing of her hands, but she knew such an act would be futile until the spanking was over and even then it would comfort her mind more than her bottom.
Mr. Kingsley said, “Lower your panties.”
Amelia raised herself straight with a deep breath and an exaggerated push off the table. She reached down and grabbed the waist of her pink undergarment with her stiff fingers. Her hands felt foreign to her own flesh as they dragged the silky material downward off her irritated skin. She pushed her panties down her legs until the bunched around her knees at the seat of the chair and then she leaned forward again.
The leather felt even colder hovering against her naked skin. The rush of air conditioned office air sent a shiver up her spine interrupted by the paddle crashing into her protruding buttocks. She gasped surprised by the increased sensitivity of her naked skin. Her eyes clenched shut riding out the wave of fire shooting through her nerves. The pain faded with the echo of impact and he raised the paddle again.
The final four were delivered with the fury and fire of a grand finale. Amelia barely found time to breathe in the spaces between the spanks. Her bottom burned hotter with each successive strike turning from pink to red. She ground her hips against the chair back and pressed her palms tight against the table allowing the acts to distract her from the discomfort and the count of strokes fallen. Though it stung and burned, she weathered it without tears and fuss.
Mr. Kingsley stepped back from her and held the paddle loose in front of him. “It’s over now.”
Amelia straightened once more. Her hands drifted behind her to hold her hot bottom and she looked to her boss summoning the will to meet his gaze. She asked, “Now what?”
He chuckled. “Now you pull your panties up, pull your skirt back down and get back to work. Hopefully, this week you’ll manage to do better than last place.”
She dropped his gaze for a moment. It was embarrassing, perhaps more than the spanking, that she had been the worst performing sales associate for three weeks in a row. She looked up into his eyes again. “And if I don’t?”
He raised the paddle and swished it through the air, clapping it against his open palm. “Then we’ll be repeating this next week and I might just have to think up something more embarrassing to get you motivated.”
Amelia blushed and looked away. She would never admit it to him or to anyone other than herself, but there was a part of her that was tempted to test the boundaries and see what he would do about it. If only she could read his true thoughts behind his stern eyes, she would know if he wanted to explore those boundaries as well. Instead all she could do was guess. She pulled her panties back into place and smoothed her skirt back down before standing. As she walked out of the conference room, she could feel the eyes of her coworkers turned on her, but most of all she could feel the eyes of her boss on her buttocks. She sat down at her desk, feeling the tingles of the spanking surge under her weight and wondered how hard she’d have to try to come in last place for a fourth week.