*As I was editing this story, I made some changes. It was too good to pass up so I decided to re-post the new and improved (if there is such a thing) version. It’s a longer story with a bit more detail. Enjoy!*
Being a secretary is more than just answering phones; you’re getting paid to be someone’s bitch. And if Jenna had to fax one more asinine contract, she knew whose ass it was going to get shoved up first.
A secretary and boss relationship is very sadomasochist of its own. Even though the boss is the Dominant one, there is no question on who really rules the roost. The submissive secretary controlled everything and if she was good enough, she also controlled exactly when her boss was able to take a shit. There’s a lot of trust involved but there’s also a lot of discipline. The secretary has to rely on the boss to give her implicit instructions on what was needed. Likewise, the boss should depend on the secretary not to make any crucial mistakes that would cost several dollars and much time to repair. It was a lesson that Jenna knew very early in her job career. Professionalism and discipline were required. But she also knew if she fucked up enough times, the punishment could be sweet.
Jenna didn’t know exactly when the D/s play began; it was a natural occurrence. A raised voice here; a stern look there. A strict warning behind closed doors occasionally. But Max never threatened to fire Jenna; there was no need to. She was one of the best assistants he had ever had and it would be completely foolish of him to fire her. But Max was a smart man. Jenna was a perfectionist and often re-did things before she even presented him her work. When she messed up, it was once in a blue moon. However, Max began to suspect she was starting to fuck up on purpose because she liked the punishment he dished out. Gradually it moved to spanking; first, with a bare hand, but now, with paddles. Jenna was wondering when the whips were going to come out. She knew that was the next level.
Once again it was a late night at the office. Jenna was going over the same spreadsheet for about the 30th time, trying to figure out where the discrepancies were coming from. Budgeting for the fiscal year is never easy, especially if there isn’t much money to begin with. What’s worse was the fact the marketing department was several thousands dollars over where they should’ve been and no one wanted to cut even a dollar from their own budgets for various reasons. It was going to be a long night, indeed. Standing up to stretch, Jenna cracked her neck to relax her muscles. Her salary was quite nice for her job even though Jenna thought she was getting severely underpaid. It did come with a lot of perks that she enjoyed. Of course, none of them were quite as nice as being spanked on occasion.
Jenna grabbed the spreadsheet from her desk and presented it to Max, who greeted her with a smile. She waited patiently as he read the results of her findings. It was any moment he was going to see she miscalculated the budget and made an easily fixable mistake. But she couldn’t let Max know that. She tried to wipe the sly smile that was appearing on her face and continued to wait. She was curious to see what the punishment was this time around. Just when she thought Max had glossed over the budgets, his face appeared from the budget spreadsheet. Annoyance was the look he was wearing and it wasn’t fashionable. Jenna couldn’t tell if that was a look of ‘You’re about to get it!’ or the dreaded ‘You’re about to get fired!’ She hoping it was the former, not the latter.
“Come here and bend over,” he quietly demanded.
Jenna got up from her chair and walked over to Max. She got down on her knees and waited. The waiting part was the worse. She didn’t know if he was going to hit her immediately or wait several minutes. When he did decide to hit her, it always shocked her because she never quite expected it. So, the waiting began. Five minutes. 10 minutes. Fifteen minutes. Jenna began to wonder if Max was going to punish her at all. Her back was starting to hurt and her knees began to feel weak.
Maybe fucking up on the spreadsheets wasn’t a smart idea after all.