March 05, 2015

It's Not Personal...

...she said as she pulled his belt from his slacks and snapped the leather in the air. "It's not personal, Billy. Don't take this the wrong way."

He was bent over her desk, staring at the green felt blotter. He could feel his heart racing. He could hear the sounds of his coworkers outside of her office. The workplace was bustling. Everyone else in the building was experiencing a normal work day. But not him. He was bent over his boss's desk, and he was about to get a whipping with his own belt.

"It's not personal," she said again, leaning her body into his so he could feel the warmth of her, smell the spice of her cologne. He shut his eyes. His cock was so fucking hard. She undid his slacks and pulled them down. His boxers were next. He was half naked in his boss's office. She was standing there, observing him. He felt hot all over.

His boss didn't rush. She pressed him into the desk so he was positioned exactly as she wanted him.

"I told you what would happen if you disobeyed, didn't I?"

Billy nodded his head quickly, then remembered the rules. "Yes," he stammered. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Don't make a noise. Don't make a fucking sound."

And then she started. The belt made the sound for him, a whisper in the air, a crack against his skin. He stiffened. His hands were balled into fists. His whole body tensed and then slowly relaxed. She waited for that. She waited for him to give in, to surrender. Then she struck again.

"It's not personal, Bill," she said, and her voice was like a song to him, a melody. "It's business."

He sucked in a breath. He hoped he wouldn't come on her blotter. He waited for the next blow.


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