Horoscope

“Is it… Is it really necessary, Sir?” Ryleigh asked, her panties only slightly pulled down, the elastic band taught in her fingers.

“Down they go, Ryleigh,” he said firmly. Mr Wright was not in the habit of repeating himself.

“But it’s so… humiliating,” she pleaded, “I’m in my underwear already, surely that is—”

“Did I ask for an opinion, or did I ask you to take your panties off, young lady?” came the reply, cutting her short.

“Yes, Sir,” she mouthed, and she felt the caress of the fabric on her long, shapely legs as the panties fell to the floor. Despite her embarrassment —or was it because of it? — she shivered.

Without another word, he indicated his lap and, blushing red, she shuffled towards him and her impending punishment. “This can’t be happening”, she thought. And yet, it was. A spanking, she was going to get a spanking like a misbehaving child, her bottom bared for her boss to see and punish as he saw fit.

This was not how she had pictured the day going. In fact, according to the horoscope that she was reading with her breakfast that morning, it was going to be “a day to try new things”. That had sounded exciting then! On her way to work, she had decided to take that advice to heart and instead of her usual black coffee, no sugar, no milk, thank you very much, she had even ordered a fancy, multisyllabic, sort-of-Italian-sounding monstrosity of a drink. Sipping on the surprisingly tasty sugary drink, she had wondered what else she might discover she liked that day.

The morning had been her usual mix of boring admin and exciting gossip with Samantha, who always had the tea to spill. Mr Wright had fired his assistant; she had told him. Apparently, said assistant had made a mess of a big client’s account, and Mr Wright had had to spend two days patching things up. But that was not the juicy part! According to Samantha —who had a reputation for embellishing the truth for dramatic effect, in all fairness—, Mr Wright had given her assistant a choice: being fired on the spot, and possibly sued by the company, or receiving a punishment and being let go with a generous severance package. Giggling like a schoolgirl at a sleepover, Ryleigh had asked Samantha what she meant by “a punishment”, to which the latter had answered, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “A big ol’ fashioned spanking!”

Ryleigh had laughed out loud at the absurdity. Samantha really had a wild imagination, but she was good fun.

Later that day, a company-wide email had been sent, advertising the position of Mr Wright’s assistant. It came with quite a few benefits, flexible hours, and a big pay increase. Ryleigh remembered the horoscope. “A day to try new things.” Maybe that was the opportunity she had been waiting for? After all, there was nothing to lose. Gathering her courage, she had gone and knocked on Mr Wright’s door.

She estimated that he was in his early 40s, with dark hair just starting to turn grey. Tall, athletic, she had never seen him in anything but smart clothes, even on casual Fridays. Mr Wright was someone who took pride in his work, and who expected a lot of those under him. Samantha had told her that she had tried to invite him on a date —such a Samantha thing to do—, but he had told her that he had, quote, “no time for dating.” Not that that had stopped Samantha trying again several times, but to no avail.

“Ah, Ryleigh, is it?” Mr Wright had said as he opened the door to his office to let her in. She had been pleasantly surprised that he even knew who she was. “Yes, Sir,” she’d said, feeling like a schoolgirl in front of a headmaster. “I would like to apply for the position…”

“Of course, of course”, he’d said, sitting down behind his impeccably kept desk. In fact, the entire office was tidy. There was not a scrap of paper out of place, the books on the shelves were organised alphabetically, the plants symmetrically arranged on the windowsill. “Well,” he continued, “we can certainly give it a go today and see how it goes. But I have to warn you: I have high expectations. If you are not prepared to give this your all, then I would not bother trying.”

She had nodded, “Of course, Sir, I wouldn’t expect anything else!”

“I can assume you have read the job description and all its conditions?” he asked.

“Yes of course.” She hadn’t, really, not all of it. It was a PA job, nothing too novel, and the tasks and duties were the normal fare. Or so she had thought.

“Perfect, let’s sign your contract and you can begin your trial period, shall we?”

And just like that, she had become Mr Wright’s assistant. That had been four hours previously.

The memories still rushing through her mind, she lowered herself onto his lap, trying to ignore the shame, the mere idea that she was laying over her boss’ lap, her bare bottom on display… All that she was wearing now were a pair of high heels and her bra. Her skirt and blouse were on the desk, neatly folded. Her panties were still on the floor where they had fallen off her legs. Somehow, it was worse than being naked. She shivered again. His hand felt warm against her waist where he held her in place. She could smell his cologne, and she caught herself thinking that it smelled quite nice, like Samantha had said it did. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she thought, “Of all the things to be thinking of…”

Her train of thought was immediately interrupted as his other hand tapped her perky bottom a few times, surprisingly gentle. “Was that it, then? Had it all been a big joke to see how far she would go? That was quite—” His hand slammed into her bottom, and she let out a loud cry. The pain was as immediate as it was searing.  Without giving her time to catch her breath, another slap came down, targeting her other cheek, then came another, and another, and one more, relentless, heavy, painful slaps that made her kick her legs and brought tears to her eyes.

The new job had started easily. Her task had been to get acquainted with the accounts that her new boss was handling personally. Ryleigh an eye for detail, numbers, facts, and she was eager to please. Within the hour, she had written a memo detailing the most important aspects of each client, and he had praised her on her diligence. She had even found an error that the previous assistant, Clara, had made. He had muttered something about Clara getting off easy, but she had not dared enquire further. Ryleigh was positively glowing. This was going to be a great career move; she was sure of it. Then things had started to get more complex, and she had made a few mistakes. Nothing big: typos, files in the wrong folder, or in the wrong order. Mr Wright hadn’t said anything bad to her then, but simply tutted as he had rearranged the pages or pointed the mistakes. Blushing, she had made all the changes immediately, of course. Thinking back, the blushing had been foreshadowing, it seemed. From then, it had only gotten more complex, and she found herself struggling to keep up with the amount of detail that she was expected to remember. But all would have been fine if not for the email. The one email that clearly said “confidential”, the same email that had now been forwarded to the company’s entire mailing-list. The problem with working for people high up at a company was that mistakes came with a lot more consequences, as she had been about to painfully find out.

The moment the send confirmation sound had pinged off the computer, she had known that she was in trouble. Blushing still, head bowed and eyes wet with incoming tears, she had knocked softly on Mr Wright’s door. He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t needed to. She knew that she was going to be fired, that was clear. Not even half a day into the job, and she had made the biggest blunder of her career.

“You know what your contract says,” he had said, an affirmation rather than a question.

“A-about termination?” she had said, sheepishly.

“About dealing with grave misconduct or severe mistakes.”

“I…” she had hesitated, “I don’t…”

“Let’s have a look again, shall we?”

And there it was, black on white, with her signature right underneath: “In case of gross negligence, the employee acknowledges that they will submit themselves to corporal punishment, namely one (1) bare bottomed spanking taken over the knees of their direct line manager.”

Her eyes had widened as she had read and re-read the passage several times. It couldn’t be true. And yet, that was the contract that she had signed. She had swallowed, not daring to look Mr Wright in the eyes, and thought of Samantha’s silly gossip. Not so silly after all…

“I think that is pretty clear, yes?” he had asked.

“I-I…” she had stammered.

“To be clear, you are not being fired, miss Collins.”

“I… I’m not?”

“No, but you understand that mistakes must have consequences.”

“Yes but… A spanking, Sir?”

“A time-tested method, absolutely.”

“But Sir…”

“It’s your career and your reputation on the line, Ryleigh. I would rather shoulder the responsibility for that mistake and keep you as my assistant, but I cannot tolerate mistakes going unpunished.”

“Is that… Is that what happened to Clara? Did she choose not to be punished like… that?”

“Clara was… How could I put it… Clara kept a tube of soothing cream in her desk drawer.”

“For…”

“For her bottom, yes… That’s how often it had to happen. I do not think you will need it quite as much…”

“I…”

“Unless you’d rather walk out the door and pack your things, that is entirely up to you…”

“No I…”

A day to try new things, the horoscope had said. That was all bollocks, right? Stars didn’t really control anything… And yet, here she was, pondering whether a spanking was so bad after all…

Without a word, she had nodded.

“Right!” he had said, slapping his thigh and getting up from behind the desk. “Your skirt and blouse, if you please,” he had continued.

“Ex-excuse me?” she had stuttered, getting more flustered by the minute.

“It’s standard procedure… Blouse and skirt off.”

She hadn’t even thought of protesting further. She had already accepted her fate, what more was that now? With trembling fingers, she had unbuttoned her blouse, and folded it on the desk. Her pencil skirt had been next, and within a minute, she was standing in her underwear in front of Mr Wright, her boss. “What would Sam give to be in that position?” she thought. It almost made her grin. Almost.

Then he had said it. “Your panties too, Ryleigh. It’s a bare bottomed spanking.”

“Is it… Is it really necessary, Sir?”

The slaps kept coming and coming. The tears were freely rolling down her blushing cheeks now, and the burn form her bottom was overwhelming all her senses. Seeing that the only effect kicking her legs had had was to make him spank her harder, she had stopped struggling within minutes of the spanking starting, and had now fully submitted herself to his discipline.

“I expect you to learn from this!” he was saying, and in her mind, she was answering “Yes! Yes, I will!” But all that came out of her mouth were sobs and little cries of pain. She couldn’t see, but she imagined her bottom was crimson by now. She didn’t think she would be able to sit in days.

“With Clara, I had to resort to using a wooden paddle…” he continued, half-comment, half-warning.

She couldn’t even imagine what that would be like. That alone had her promise herself to never have a slip-up that bad again. There were mysteries that were best left alone, and the feeling of a paddle on her bare cheeks was definitely one of them.

After a few more interminable minutes of agony, shame, tears and a good deal of pleading for it to stop, Mr Wright finally did so. She didn’t dare get up, in case he was just taking a break, but a few gentle taps gave her the go-ahead. She got herself up, then let him guide her to the corner of his office were she naturally found herself, hands on her head. Despite never having been punished before, it had seemed like a natural continuation to the punishment. A moment to reflect and gather herself while her bottom cooled. As she would later discover, Clara had left her cream in the desk, a fact that she would be forever thankful for.

Years later, and after many more spankings of varying intensity over Mr Wright’s lap, Ryleigh found herself in the corner once again, and randomly thought back to that silly horoscope, on that fateful day. A day to try new things, it had said, and, thinking about it, it was probably the best advice she’d ever gotten.

Nova and Nadleehe

The following is a series of commissioned images and stories that were made over the years… Hopefully, it all reads well together! The commissioner herself is Native American, these are her Original Characters. Enjoy!

“Well, well, well… Look what the cat brought in? What are we going to do with you, young lady?” a feminine voice purred from behind Nova as she woke up. She wanted to answer, to ask a dozen questions, to cry her defiance… but the hard gag in her mouth prevented her. She struggled against the tight ropes binding her to a chair, feeling them bite into her skin. Who was speaking to her? Where was she? She couldn’t remember a thing. The young native tried to look behind her, but there was no-one to be seen.

“I like your legwarmers…” the voice came again. “Very stylish… Are you a Native, then? Never met one before…”

Once more, she turned her head around, trying to see who was talking. The voice had a sing-song quality to it, an accent she hadn’t heard before. Not from around here, then… If only she could remember where she was… Suddenly, she felt someone tugging at the ropes, making sure they were secure, tightening them against her naked arms and denim jacket. She shivered, unsure of whether it was from fear or a tingle of pleasure.

“Better make sure, you know?” the voice said. She felt hands on her shoulders and a voice whisper in her ear, “I wonder what your name is…” Fingers ran up her neck, playfully.

Finally, the woman stepped in the light in front of Nova. Her skin was pale and freckled, her hair a fiery red. “I’m Saoirse,” she said, “and you and I are going to have some fun…”

*Smack!* Another slap landed on her warmed behind, eliciting a muffled moan from behind her ball gag and a jolt of her legs. For an instant, she wanted to put her hand up to cover her exposed cheeks, but thought the better of it. The other girl had been very clear about it. “You are going to take your punishment without complaining,” she had said, sternly. “You know you deserve it!”

And deep down, she did. The previous night had come back to her in fragments. Loud music, lots of drinks… Hopefully nothing more, but enough to have her stumble home in a daze. Well, what she’d thought was home, anyway. She could see why Saoirse had been less than happy when she’d discovered a total stranger had broken into her house, and was now sleeping in her bed. Nova thought back to her waking up, the tight ropes against her skin, the frisson of powerlessness… And the redhead teasing her.

Saoirse had said that she was going to play with her young captive, and, true to her word, play with her she did. *SMACK!* went another one, a little harder, the hand lingering on her bottom a little too long to be solely punitive. Nova could feel tears forming in the corner of her eyes; her bottom felt warm, painful, and yet… She knew the spanking was barely getting started. And, truth be told, she didn’t know whether she wanted it to stop just yet.

*SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!* The slaps were peppering her bottom, coming faster, harder as the punishment went on. In her sing-song accent, Saoirse kept teasing her, lecturing her, tenderly mocking her. She was enjoying herself, Nova thought, enjoying having her at her mercy. She had pulled her jeans down —thankfully keeping her precious legwarmer up— then her panties had followed; before she’d known it, her bottom was bare for Saoirse to admire and punish in equal measure. She felt her other hand holding her firmly in place; she felt the gag in her mouth preventing her from answering; she heard the smile in Saoirse’s voice.

Submissive, humiliated, Nova didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think. Was she… Enjoying this? She didn’t even know if that was possible. She had never explored any of her kinks, and yet… First the ropes, now this… Emotions were swirling inside her, each heavy slap falling on her sore cheeks another mix of fear, pain and desire.

*SMACK!* the spanking continued, and with each slap, the promise of lots more to discover.

***

While Saoirse was having her fun with Nova, Nadleehe, who’d been tied up for a while in the room next door, was left with her surprised thoughts…
 “Nova?! Why is she doing in the home of my date? Oh boy!!… Saoirse really took a liking to herif she is spanking her before me!! No wonder she left me for a while saying she was going to her room to get changed for me…. Still can’t believe Nova got mixed up in one of my dates! I’m surely going to hear it from her later!”

Saoirse, having put Nova in the corner with a red bottom, finally came in and said “Well well, Nadleehe, you never told me about your other cute friend before… Love how you both dress alike…. Now, now, don’t feel so jealous, it will be your turn next, sweetie… I picked Nova first since I found her sleeping in my bed! She was asking for it… But I am saving the best for last, you pretty femboy!”

Saoirse, just done spanking Nova, was admiring her handiwork. Nova’s face was as red as her behind, blushing perhaps from the humiliation, or maybe from the realisation that she had… Enjoyed her first spanking?…

“Well, well, Nova,” the redhead said, “Enjoyed your first time being punished? Too shy to admit it, perhaps?…” She passed her nails over the young Native’s spanked bottom and continued, “You’ve got such a cute, soft litte but… I’d love to have more fun with you, but because of you, I’ve kept my actual date waiting for far too long… So back to the chair you go!”

With speed and confidence born of experience, Saoirse tied Nova up to the chair again. “Lucky you, you get to see what I do to your friend here… I guess I should have said that we’d been dating for a while!” She turn to her other guest, tied up to the second chair

“And you, Nadleehe!” she said, “You never told me  you had such a cute friend… Is she from the same tribe as you?”

There only was a muffled answer.

“Silly me, silly me,” Saoirse continued untying Nadleehe but leaving the gag in, “With both of you gagged, it’s probably better to save the questions for later… And better get to the pounding! I hope your little fembutt is as soft as Nova’s…”

She sat down on the chair to which Nadleehe had been tied. “Over the lap you go!” she announced.

As Saoirse pulled down Nadleehe’s pants, the young native’s face got even more red than Nova’s had been. Saoirse soon knew why as she felt their erect cock pressing against her bare leg. She blushed as well.

“My, my!” she said with a smile, “It seems you are getting really excited about your first spanking, aren’t you? And you’re the first femboy I get to spank… Especially one who is Two Spirited… My favourite date for sure…”

She raised her hand, and with a grin, she began to spank…