by Aubrey Cara
“No harm done. Gave me some exercise. And now you better go, Mr. Not Perfect. You don't want to be late for your conference call.”
“That's right.” He'd forgotten he'd made up a conference call too. “Well, I better get to that.”
“Have a good rest of your afternoon, Mason,” she said with an impish grin. She never called him Mason at work and the moment wasn't lost on him.
“You too, Miriam,” he said as he started to walk to his office.
Mimi busted out laughing, “Please no. Not the full name.”
“Miriam is a beautiful name.”
“Yes, in biblical times.”
“So, no Miriam? I like Miriam.”
“You would,” she said flippantly.
“Fine, I'll call you Mimi. I wouldn't want you to put water in my gas tank or pee on my windshield.”
Her eyes wide with shock and she blushed bright red in embarrassment.“Who told you about that?!”
“I didn't truly believe it til' just now,” he said in mock surprise. He was coming to realize Mimi had many more facets to her personality than what met the eye. He liked that about her. Last night he admitted to himself he may have built her up in his mind as bordering on saintly. The more he got to know her the more his idea of her was replaced by the real her. And he liked the real her even more.
“There are only a few people who know about that,” she said with a hint of warning in her tone.
“I'll take it to the grave. I swear.” He made a criss-cross over his heart as he back into his office.
“There were extenuating circumstances,” she said, as way of explanation.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “No judgment. I just know to stay on my toes around you now. That's all.”
Rolling her eyes, she huffed before sticking out her tongue and going back to her office.
He had to force himself to go into his and close the door between them. The second he was sitting behind his desk he clicked on his computer's search engine and drew out his phone. He took a second to remind himself that he may not find anything. She could be reading Harry Potter or one of those vampire books. For all he knew she really was reading a John Grisham novel.
Then he zoomed in on the first picture he'd taken and read the title.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mason hit send on an email to the board of directors for a charity his father had been a chair member of when he was alive. Twas the season for fundraising. He happily contributed to all the charities his father had donated to and some new ones. He hadn't taken the steps to head up any of the organizations though. Coleman Automotive took up too much of his time.
Whenever Mason felt guilty for not being the philanthropist his father was, he reminded himself he wasn’t his father. His father hadn't played as active of a role in the daily running of his corporation as Mason did in his. His father had been an inventor and engineer first and foremost.
Rubbing his eyes Mason looked at the clock and realized it was nearly six. His day was wrapping up the way it had begun. With him distracted and sporting an erection that had been flying at half mast all day in honor of it's fallen soldiers.
It was entirely Mimi's fault. Her and those books she's been reading. Taken By The Boss, Punished By The Boss, and Bent Over The Boss's Desk had only been the books featuring women being spanked, paddled, and chastised by their superiors. She also had sci-fi otherworldly alien spanking books and spanking romances that all contained DD. He had known what DP was but had to look up DD. He now knew it stood for Domestic Discipline. In other words husbands that spank their naughty little wives' bottoms.
Mason thought it was pretty safe to say he'd discovered Mimi's kink. The one common denominator of all the books on her home screen—outside of one parenting book, and story about a bounty hunter—was spanking.
He'd spent most the night skimming through the few stories he'd downloaded and taking himself in hand so often he'd grown dehydrated. He hadn't been with a woman in a long time. Too long.
After he'd stopped drinking, casual flings had quickly lost their appeal. Plus he had his business he'd been married to. Eventually he closed off that part of himself that craved sex and companionship. He just hadn't had the time or inclination.
Now his body was craving to make up for lost time. He was strung out, tired, and his pants had been uncomfortably tight all day. His heart started racing and he'd gotten an instant cock-stand every time he thought of spanking Mimi.
Spanking. Mimi.
His palm itched at the idea even as his mind rebelled. And that is exactly where his thoughts had strayed all damned day.
Reading those books had awakened something in him. Part of him felt like an evil, sick pervert. He'd never spanked anyone in his entire life. Hadn't even thought to spank a woman for any reason until his talk with Caleb on Sunday.
Then he'd discovered those books. Books Mimi read. His mind had flooded with images of her reading them and pleasuring herself—possibly thinking about him, her boss while touching herself—and his whole pathetic cycle had started again.
He knew what he liked about them, but now he wondered what it was about them that drew her.
Glancing out the door he watched the object of his lewd thoughts hunched over her keyboard, squinting at her computer. He stared at her for a full minute before it hit him that she was not supposed to be here. He glanced again at the clock as he picked up his office phone and dialed her extension.
“Coleman Automotive, this is Miriam Westfall speaking. How may help you?”
Although her greeting had been professional and all that was lovely, her gaze didn't stray from her computer screen. “Mimi, it's nearly six. Weren't you supposed to leave at five to pick up Zeke?”
“Shit,” she swore under her breath but he heard her and cleared his throat to let her know he heard. “It's okay,” she said. “He's just at my parents’ house. They'll understand. I'm almost done here. Just need to finish—”
“You can finish it tomorrow.”
“I'm almost done.”
He was annoyed she still hadn't looked up and had disregarded his directive. His heart kicked up a beat as he realized what he was about to do. Ever since he first found out what she was into he'd been asking himself one question; could he do it? Could he spank Mimi's delectable little fanny in chastisement, the way she obviously craved?
Well, it looked like he was about to find out.
Adding steel to his voice he used a tone he generally saved for dressing down employees that were caught doing something that warranted severe reprimand if not termination from their position. “Miriam, can I see you in my office? Now?”
*** ***
Mimi's head snapped up and her gaze locked straight on Mason's cool, hard stare. She'd heard him use that voice once or twice behind closed doors, but never directed at her. It was firm and authoritative in the extreme. His tone brooked no argument and her body responded instantly.
Pushing back from her desk she walked the short distance to his office.
When she stepped just inside his doorway he asked, “Who am I?”
Perplexed, she answered, “Mason Coleman.”
“And what is my title here?”
“Um, founder and CEO.”
“And who am I to you?”
At the moment she wasn't totally sure. “My boss?”
“Your boss,” he said. “Do you listen to your boss? Are you supposed to do what your boss tells you to do?”
Mimi shifted nervously on her feet and fisted her hands as not to fidget. She'd never seen Mason this way. It made her stomach flutter with nerves even as her panties became embarrassingly damp. She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest, feeling her nipples pebbling up under her shirt. She was so wrong in the head.
“I um, well, I,” she stuttered suddenly forgetting the question.
“It's a simple yes or no, Miriam.”
Again he used her full name. Was she getting pranked? She looked ar
ound but no one was in the main office. Everyone had left for the day.
She swallowed and answered, “Yes...sir.”
“Close the door please, Ms. Westfall.”
Her brow furrowed as she closed the door then stood directly in front of it with her hand on the knob, ready to bolt. Mason pushed back from his desk and set his chair aside.
“Come here please.”
“There?” she asked dumbly.
He pointed to the space behind his desk, right in front of him. “Here,” he said slowly so she could not be mistaken.
She felt like a simpleton. Her mind had gone completely blank. White noise filled her ears. Tentatively she took precise steps as she moved behind his desk facing him.
He looked down his nose at her like a stern headmaster and her core clenched. She mentally slapped herself. This was not one of her novels. He was not about to spank her. Her mouth dried. He wasn't, was he?
“You admit you're supposed to follow my direct orders, Ms. Westfall?”
“Yes, sir.” She sensed she was being led into a trap.
“And you admit you willingly allowed yourself to be late picking up your son?”
“Yes,” she said slightly annoyed. He made it sound like she left him at school by himself instead of with her mother getting fed whatever he wanted.
Mason's tone didn't change as he asked in the same cool, reserved tone, “Did you call to let your parents know you'd be late?”
She inwardly winced. She hadn't. She had assumed her parents were fine keeping Zeke late, and hadn't even thought to call. No longer able to hold his gaze she looked down and muttered, “No.”
“Tsk tsk, Ms. Westfall. That's a lot of disrespect you're showing this evening. First to your parents and Zeke...and then to me.”
Mimi felt horrible. She had just wanted to finish the commission sheets. If she got them done tonight she'd be able to send it in first thing in the morning and wouldn't have to rush to get them done. It was a holiday week so they needed to be sent in by noon tomorrow to ensure everyone got paid on Friday. She was very OCD sometimes. If she was set on finishing a project she'd be preoccupied thinking about it all night if she stepped away from it. It drove her crazy.
“I'm sorry Mr. Coleman,” she said feeling true contrition. Using his formal title seemed right for this moment. “It’s just that I um, I wanted to get the commission sheets done early, and—”
“That's commendable, Ms. Westfall. But the fact remains you showed blatant disrespect to me and didn't even think to pick up a phone to let your parents know you were going to be late. Did they have plans for the evening?”
“I, uh, I don't know.”
“Why's that?”
“Because I didn't call.” She was feeling thoroughly chastised and part of her wanted to argue and stick up for herself while the other part of her wanted to beg his forgiveness and tell him she'd never do it again.
“Lean over the desk please.”
“What?” She looked up at Mason in confusion but he wore the same implacable expression.
“Lean. Over. The desk.”
“Why?” Her voice squeaked.
“Because Ms. Westfall. When you disobey me and you are disrespectful you get punished.”
Was it her imagination or did all the air just leave the room? So many thoughts crashed through her mind she stood momentarily paralyzed as they fought for dominance. What did he mean by punished? On his desk? Was she about to be spanked?
Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, is he going to spank me?!
She blinked up at him and he tilted his head toward his desk raising an austere brow, as if to say, “anytime now young lady.”
A sane person would protest. A rational person would walk out of this office right now, and not look back. She however was not sane or rational. She was a sex deprived single mother who hadn't seen any action outside of a vibrator in almost four years and had dreamt of getting spanked by a commanding man like Mason for much longer.
Turning, she leaned over the desk propping herself up on her elbows. She was suddenly reminded of Madeline's quivering nates and held back a nervous giggle. Mimi figured smiling or laughing at this moment would go over like a lead balloon.
Fist pumping the air was definitely out.
Still, part of her was mentally high-fiving the fictitious heroines of her spanking novels even as her body lightly shook in wary anticipation.
Shifting on her feet she berated herself. This was not one of her erotica books. Just because she had been mooning over her boss for months didn't mean she should let the man spank her. It wasn't normal. Who spanked their employees?
Absorbed in her thoughts she jumped as the first strike lit up her bottom making her eyes go wide. The litany of ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod was back. This was happening. The next slap was stinging in force, and jarred her forward, even as the sound seemed to echo off the walls of his office.
If he was holding back she couldn't tell. Her right butt cheek throbbed from one strike. Her insane inner voice was cheering like her team won the home game as Mimi braced herself for the next strike.
His large warm hand settled on the small of her back steadying her as his free hand set a quick rhythm peppering every inch of her ass.
Her soul cried “yes, spank my naughty bottom,” even as her throbbing rump said, “ow, ow, ow.” Tears, actual tears, came to her eyes as the stinging blows just kept coming. Then as quickly as the punishing spanking had begun, it changed cadence. His masculine hand began to knead and rub her aching globes in interim to his heavy, punishing swats.
Each strike now sent a zing of warmth pulsing through her clit. She wanted to rub herself against the edge of the desk but was afraid to move. Afraid of breaking whatever weird trance had Mason Coleman spanking her ass as if he were possessed by demons.
Her mind blanked as her body welcomed each blow, sensation blazing through her.
*** ***
Mason was doing it. He was spanking her. Hard. Her little whimpers and moans filled his head even as her bottom thrust back begging for more. His cock beat a steady rhythm against the front of his pants to match each strike he made against her lush ass.
Her slim back arched under his hand as she moaned, and rubbed herself against the desk. His spanking hand was hot and throbbing and he knew her bottom had to be red.
It was too much. He was going to come. From spanking a woman, he was going to come.
Breathing heavy he stepped back trying to gain control of his burgeoning arousal. Mimi peeked at him over her shoulder and he groaned. Her cheeks were flushed with her own desire. Her questioning eyes passion glazed.
He couldn't speak. He couldn't pounce on her and take her the way he wanted to, either. He wouldn't last a minute. He hadn't thought ahead to how far he had wanted this to go. Hadn't expected this kind of reaction. Now he wanted to lift her skirt and thrust inside her until they both cried out in completion.
That wasn’t going to happen though. He'd come like he was fifteen the second his dick touched her heat. He was too close.
“We're done here,” he gruffly choked out. “You can go.” He didn't mean to be an ass. He'd never treated a woman like this. He just needed her to leave. Now.
A frown marred her pretty brow at his words and he felt like a jerk. Her gaze tracked from his gritted jaw to the front of his pants. He stood as still as a statue trying to act as if it was completely natural to be standing in his office with a painfully massive erection after spanking her across his desk.
He watched barely breathing as she eased from the desk to kneel in front of him. Shock kept him immobile as she opened his pants. He knew he should protest. Say something. Do anything besides just stand there like an idiot while the woman of his dreams took out his cock.
Oh Lord, the woman of his dreams was taking out his cock.
Her slender hands closed around him as she drew him out of the front of his slacks. She looked up at him with passion filled green eyes as she brazenly licked
down his length with her wet, little tongue, and he couldn't breathe.
Her soft, pink lips closed around him as his cock disappeared into the hot suction of her mouth. She sucked him back until her beautiful lips met his groin and the head of his dick rested in her throat. No woman had ever taken him so fully into her mouth. He wasn’t a small man.
She swallowed once, moaning around his cock. Her innocent murmur vibrated to his balls and back and he saw stars as he came. Fisting his hands in her hair, he held her tight against him as he spilled down her throat. She had no choice but to swallow again and again against his length.
As the last of his cum left him, he eased the grip he had on her hair, his heart still racing. His legs shook and threatened to give out as she gracefully got to her feet and wiped the corner of her mouth with a delicate thumb.
“Now we're done here,” she said. Her voice held a low-pitched sexy quality. Probably from having his erection forcibly held down her throat while he came. She turned to go and his mind screamed to stop her. He needed to apologize, or return the favor.
The door clicked shut after she exited. Still, he stood there with his dick hanging out of his pants. On shaking legs he sat down in his chair. Not for the first time in the past few days he wondered what he'd gotten himself into pursuing Miriam Westfall.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The numbers on the screen blurred before Mimi's eyes. It was just past noon and she was still processing what had happened the night before.
“I'm heading out if you don't need anything,” Ms. Linda said from the door with a warm smile. The older administrative assistant had her purse slung over her rounded shoulder.
“Not that I can think of,” Mimi said. She couldn't concentrate on work if she tried. It was a miracle she'd gotten as much done today as she had.
“Alright then, I better hit the road. We're having Thanksgiving at my oldest son's house this year. He's three hours away and has a wife that couldn't cook if she was possessed by Gordon Ramsay. Though it might improve her disposition,” she said with a snort at her own joke. “Hope you have a good Thanksgiving, lady.”
