Spanked by my Boss
by Pan
Chapter 16
My heart leapt. It felt like my every nerve ending was standing to attention, desperate to hear Mr. Peterson’s next words.
“Unless…” he mused, before a look of consternation crossed his face. “No. No, what am I saying. Never mind; it would be completely inappropriate.”
“What??”
The words flew out of my mouth before I even had time to process them. If there was something—anything—I could do to feel Mr. Peterson’s hand again, I’d do it. If there was any possibility of resuming my punishment, of once more finding my daily release, I wouldn’t hesitate.
“I’m sorry,” my boss said, avoiding my eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not even an option.”
I could practically see it. My daily joy, sliding away from me. My chance of release, of resolving the tension that had been building in me for almost three days...
“Please, sir,” I begged. “Please. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
Mr. Peterson raised his eyebrows, and I realized that I’d completely dropped any mask of professionalism. God, what must he have thought of me? I must have looked like a...well, I didn’t know exactly what I looked like, but it wasn’t the woman he worked with. It wasn’t the well put-together, composed accountant who he’d dealt with over the months we’d been working together.
Worst of all...in that moment, part of me I didn’t care. I didn’t care if Mr. Peterson thought I was a lust-crazed slut.
I just wanted to hear how I could get my fix.
I took a deep breath, and tried again. “I just...it’s important to me that we follow protocol,” I clarified, trying to return to some semblance of professionalism. “I feel like I still have a lot to gain from the punishment set out by the EED, and I wouldn’t want to miss out on a chance to improve at my job.”
Mr. Peterson nodded. I don’t know if he believed me, or if he was just eager to move past my outburst and get back onto normal footing.
“Of course,” he said, before a dark look of regret crossed his face. “That’s exactly the problem, however. The only way forward I can see would be...well, it would be outside the bounds of professionalism. I could never ask that of you.”
I wanted to fall to my knees and beg him. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t give a hoot about professionalism, about the EED. I wanted to tell Mr. Peterson that all I cared about was feeling his hand on my rear end. About watching him pleasure himself.
About doing all I could to get him hard and get him off.
But I didn’t. I knew how important it was to my boss that we kept things above board. All that we’d done so far was part of the company’s policy; I couldn’t ask him to step outside of that.
Unless...
There it was again, that magical word. He’d worked out a solution, something that wasn’t strictly allowed.
And he wouldn’t have thought of it if he didn’t want it, right?
My tongue darted across my lips, which had dried up in the air conditioning of my boss’s office. Mr. Peterson had come up with a solution that he shouldn’t have.
That had to mean something.
It had become increasingly clear to me that Mr. Peterson didn’t want me, not in the way that I wanted him. But I knew from what we’d spent the previous week doing...on some level, he saw me as more than an accountant.
On some level, he saw me as a woman.
Was that why that wonderful brain of his had come up with a technically-inappropriate solution?
Was he finally seeing me as more than just a professional? I’d spent the last week cumming at his hand, then touching myself as he watched.
As he came.
Surely that had left a mark of some kind on his psyche. Surely there’d been some kind of lasting effect.
Perhaps he was, at last, viewing me as a sexual being.
“Ask me,” I said, my voice raspy. I could feel my heart throbbing; I was so nervous about what Mr. Peterson was going to say next, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he could have heard my pulse from across the room. “The worst I can say is no, right?”
“Well, no,” he said with a small smile. “It’s really not the kind of conversation a boss should be having with his employees.”
“Please, sir.” I returned his smile, and tilted my head to the side as casually as I could. “I promise, you have nothing to fear from me. I like to think we’ve become...friends.”
My breath caught in my throat at the last word, and I wondered if I’d crossed a line. Mr. Peterson worked so hard to keep our relationship professional; it felt very forward of me to suddenly be declaring that it was anything more than that.
But either from politeness or agreement, he didn’t say anything. He returned my smile, took a moment to consider what I’d said, and then gave that small nod that signalled he’d made up his mind.
“Very well,” he mused. “But...if you find the suggestion off-putting on any level, I won’t blame you if you walk out of this room and ask for a transfer.”
“I won’t, sir,” I said, my heart pounding so loudly that I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to even hear me. “I promise.”
The idea of leaving Mr. Peterson, of not getting to see him every day...that sounded worse than anything my boss could possibly suggest.
“Well,” he said, his hands nervously twisting a cord on his desk. “It occurred to me that we could probably continue with your daily punishment if...I wasn’t in charge of my own release, as it were.”
My brow furrowed. I could only think of one way to interpret my boss’s suggestion, and...I was sure that couldn’t be what he meant.
“Sir?”
“That is to say,” he said, his eyes burning into mine as he spoke. “If after I took care of your needs each day...you took care of mine.”
My eyes widened. The room began to spin. He was...he wanted me to...
God, no wonder he’d been so reluctant to bring it up. This idea was completely, completely out of line. Everything we’d done up until now, it had been a normal part of the job.
Here he was, asking me to...to touch him.
My boss wanted me to touch his cock. No, more than that. He wanted me to...to wrap my hand around it. He wanted me to stroke his erection, until he got off.
I felt like my entire world was falling apart.
My first instinct was to accept his offer—to march out of the room, straight to HR. Yes, I’d promised that I wouldn’t say anything, but I hadn’t...I hadn’t been expecting this.
Mr. Peterson wanted to do more than just cross the line. He wanted to march across it, then set it on fire behind him. He wasn’t suggesting a professional relationship. He wasn’t even suggesting friendship.
His ‘solution’ to the problem was tantamount to making me his personal whore.
I felt queasy.
What the hell had I done to make him think that I would be okay with that? With anything even close to that? Yes, I’d cum each day as he’d spanked me, but that had just been my body’s natural reaction to the situation. I’d thought we’d both been on the same page in that regard.
And yes, I’d let him watch me touch myself as he got off, but...well, that had been my fault. I’d put him in a situation where he had to touch my naked ass, where he had to watch me cum.
Of course he was going to need release after that, and it made complete sense that I give him something to look at as he did.
But this?
This was completely, completely unacceptable.
I’d all but made up my mind: I was going to leave Mr. Peterson’s office. Leave Mr. Peterson’s department. Hell, if I needed to, I’d leave the whole damn company. I was a professional, and I would not be treated like this. I was a happily married mother of two, not a damn sex worker.
But just as I was about to turn away, I saw the look of guilt on my boss’s face, and my heart just melted.
He hadn’t wanted to suggest this. I’d all but forced it out of him. He’d even explicitly warned me that the suggestion was out of line, and I’d told him that it was okay, that he could tell me anything.
And now here I was, reacting exactly as he’d feared I would.
“S-sir,” I stammered, beginning to speak before I even had any idea what I was going to say. “I...I...”
All of a sudden, I felt like I was covered in sweat. I felt like a kid tasked with the job of talking to the entire school. My throat seized up, and the feeling of Mr. Peterson’s patient eyes on me did nothing to help.
It was suddenly hard to remember why I was so mad. Yes, obviously Mr. Peterson’s suggestion was not one that I could even consider. I could never cheat on my husband, or risk doing anything to damage my professional reputation. But he hadn’t suggested it out of lust, or selfishness; he’d only come up with the idea out of desperation, as a way to continue giving me the punishment I so desperately needed.
He’d done it for me, really.
And obviously he wasn’t expecting me to say yes. That’s why he hadn’t wanted to say anything. Mr. Peterson didn’t see me like that; as far as he was concerned, I was completely sexless.
Well, except for the orgasm he gave me every day. That must have had some impact on him. Perhaps he’d seen the way that I came by his hand, and figured it wouldn’t be totally utterly unreasonable to expect me to...return the favor.
But it was, of course.
Right?
My mind was ticking over at a million miles a minute. I couldn’t really be considering this. Could I?
No. No, of course not. I loved my husband. I loved Aaden. I was one-hundred percent happy in my marriage; aside from this stupid crush, I’d never even come close to straying.
Not that this was straying, of course. It was just a stupid fantasy, and not one that I’d ever act upon. I could never be unfaithful; I just wasn’t built that way.
But...would this really be cheating?
No matter how one spun it, Mr. Peterson was getting me off every day. Yes, he was doing it within the bounds of professionalism, but...the fact remained, his hand on my naked flesh was giving me an orgasm.
And not just any orgasm; the best orgasms of my life. Earth-shattering, core-shaking orgasms. Climaxes which left me feeling utterly empty and completely fulfilled.
I started to feel warm at the idea of returning the favor.
But I couldn’t. Mr. Peterson had said it himself; this wasn’t a reasonable request. This wasn’t something any boss could expect of an employee.
This wasn’t what I’d signed up for.
I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t.
No matter how easy it was to imagine.
The image was so clear. After my spanking, while my mind was still foggy and my body felt weak, dropping to the floor and crawling under Mr. Peterson’s desk. Waiting for him to sit down, to unbuckle his pants...
Or maybe I’d do that part. Maybe he’d just sit down and get straight back to work. That was the only reason he’d suggested this, after all. He was losing productivity, because of me. My needs were causing him to waste so much time...he just wanted to get a full day’s work in.
And I could help him with that.
He’d sit down and get back to work, and I’d undo his trousers.
I’d release his cock.
It was only with great effort that I managed to stop myself from groaning aloud. I’d spent so, so long imagining it, imagining my boss’s erection...and here it was, an offer on a silver platter.
With just a word, I could see Mr. Peterson’s erection. No, more than just see it...I could touch it. Wrap my hands around it, as he replied to emails and dealt with his managerial duties. Hold it in my hand and stroke it...
From experience, I knew it would take a while, but I wouldn’t mind. He knew I was a hard worker, and I’d work for as long as it took. I’d spend as long as was necessary, diligently pumping my boss’s cock until I made him cum...
I’d be Mr. Peterson’s good girl.
I wanted to bite my lip. I wanted to let out a long, shuddering sigh.
But I knew that Mr. Peterson was staring at me, waiting for my reaction, and I couldn’t let him see how much the idea turned me on. I’d debased myself in front of him enough. My reaction to my boss suggesting I get him off every day couldn’t be arousal.
I had a reputation to maintain.
It would be so easy to say yes. It would be so easy to agree. Every day, after Mr. Peterson got me off, to return the favor. To help him find the release he so desperately craved; the release he so generously gave me.
To get him off while he worked. To pleasure him, try to make him feel the way he made me feel.
I closed my eyes.
No.
No, that was exactly why I couldn’t do this. My body was already confused enough; my crush was out of control. And that was just from the normal interactions every employee had with their boss.
If I started jerking him off every day, who knew how my body would interpret that? What if…what if I found myself wanting more?
I couldn’t take that risk. If it had been anyone else; if it had been a boss I didn’t have feelings for, a purely professional relationship like I’d had with so many of my employers in the past...then maybe I’d have considered it.
If it truly had been a reciprocal act, an exchange of services—he got me off, I did the same back—that might have been okay. After all, it wasn’t like we were having sex. If getting someone off with your hand was considered sex, then what Mr. Peterson did to me every day would technically have been ‘sex’, and that obviously wasn’t the case.
No, the only problem was the feelings involved. I was completely certain that my boss didn’t return my idiotic crush; him getting me off was fine, but if I started returning the favor...that could cause problems.
But…
If I didn’t, if I refused my boss’s offer then we’d have to stop. We’d have to. Mr. Peterson had been very clear about that; he wanted to help me be the best employee I could be, but he couldn’t spend hours each day just on me.
That wasn’t fair. To him, or to the company.
And so if I wasn’t willing to get past my dumb crush and do the job in front of me, he wouldn’t be able to punish me any more. It was as simple as that.
I took a deep breath. That wasn’t a little thing. If there was one thing I knew about Mr. Peterson, it was that he prided himself on being the best boss he could be. Similarly, I had always done everything I could to be the best worker—that was why I’d gotten so far in my career.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do…until now, apparently. Now that I’d developed feelings.
God, what was I doing? This stupid crush of mine was ruining everything. I was doing the one thing I’d sworn I’d never let do—let it get in the way of my job. My inability to put my feelings aside was directly resulting in me being a worse employee. It really was as simple as that; the only thing stopping me from putting Mr. Peterson’s plan into action was how I felt, and I knew—we both knew—that Mr. Peterson’s solution was the only way that I could do my job as well as I could.
My stupid, stupid crush. Why couldn’t I control my own hormones? Why couldn’t I be professional?
Like him. Like Mr. Peterson.
I was letting my crush hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. Mr. Peterson had come up with a way that gave everyone what they wanted. He’d be able to maintain his perfect record as a boss and keep administering the discipline I clearly needed, I’d get to grow as an employee...and here I was, rejecting it because my stupid body couldn’t tell the difference between professionals helping each other out, and…attraction.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair, and I wasn’t going to let my irrational crush get in the way of my own success. Of Mr. Peterson’s ability to manage me effectively.
I was going to be the best employee I could possibly be.
Opening my eyes, my voice was steady. “Actually, sir,” I said with a smile. “I think that’s an excellent plan.”
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