Her Boss’ Mistress

Janet checked the clasp of her garter-belt’s strap one last time. She wanted everything to look good for Him. No, not good, perfect. She pulled on the strap and let it snap against her thigh with a satisfying clack. A delicious shiver ran up her spine at the thought of His eyes running up and down her long legs clad in their dark stockings, of His gaze admiring her lacy corset and the smoky make-up look that she had spent an hour perfecting. She imagined His hands caressing the small of her back, tracing lines across her legs, the nape of her neck. She dreamt of His lips kissing her neck, her chest, and of His teeth biting her lips, teasing her with promises of pleasures to come.

She checked herself in the mirror one last time. Getting dressed in the office’s bathroom was not the most ideal of situations, but when you were having an affair with your boss, some sacrifices had to be made. Besides, He treated her really well, and that was not just the mind-bending sex. What could she say? A man who knew what he was doing was worth all the trouble, the secrets, the lies… And the fact that she found herself in a company bathroom at eleven at night wearing a rather naughty lingerie ensemble. She smacked her lips after applying a last touch of red to them. She was ready for Him.

Her heels click-clacking on the floor, she made her way to her boss’ office. The workspaces around her were dark, save the glow of a few computer screens that had not been turned off. Through the large windows beyond, she could see the lights of the skyscrapers of the city below. With a frisson of naughtiness, she wondered if a late-night worker in another building would catch a glimpse of her hips swaying in her skimpy outfit. Smothering a giggle, she placed her hand on the doorknob and knocked softly. She opened the door.

The office was dark. He did like the theatricality of it. It was part of His charm, really. He would always make her feel like every part of their secret time together was lifted from the pages of a book. Every minute an adventure, and she always loved the endings. The thought made her smile. The lights suddenly turned on, and she smiled broadly, her hand shooting to cover her eyes.

“Ooh!” she purred, “You surprised m—”

She cut herself short when she saw that the person sat behind the large oak desk was not her boss at all. It was…

“Sally? W-what are you doing here?” she asked, an arm covering the ample bosom that her corset flattered. The attempt at modesty was somewhat defeated by the rest of the outfit, frilly panties and all, but her mind was busy racing to find anything to say, and trying to understand why Sally, her boss’ personal assistant, was sitting there instead of Him.

“Hello, Janet,” Sally said, with venom in her voice as she spoke her name. “I was hoping to have a chat with you…”

“A… chat?” Janet asked, troubled by the other woman’s commanding tone. She was nothing like the demure, discreet assistant that she was used to seeing during the day.

“Yes… A chat. You seem surprised to see me here? Maybe you were expecting someone else?”

“I think you already know…” Janet answered, blushing. Her secrets didn’t seem so well guarded after all…

Sally got up from behind the desk and walked to her. With a smirk, she looked up and down the embarrassed younger woman.

“Yes. I’m afraid Jim won’t be coming… He has a dinner tonight,” Sally said after an uncomfortably long silence.

“D-does he?” Janet stuttered.

“Yes, he does… With his wife.”

Janet said nothing. Right. Think, what could Sally want? Money? She wasn’t particularly rich, but He had made her gifts that she could sell for good money. Maybe Sally would stay quiet for that pair of diamond earrings that He had gotten her last time. Think, think! She needed to stall for time.

“Did… did she send you?” she asked, “Does she know about… this?” she pointed to herself and to her outfit as she said the last word.

“What?” Sally scoffed, “That stupid frigid hag doesn’t know anything, nor does she care, really.”

Janet gasped, and Sally went on: “As long as he keeps her bank account well cushioned, I don’t think she gives a damn what he does, really. Or who.”

“But then… What’s all this? Why are you here? And… What do you want?”

Sally came closer, glaring. She frowned and cusped Janet’s chin between two fingers.

“Jim is mine,” she hissed, “and he has been mine for much longer than you have even worked here.”

“Wh-what?!” Janet said, blushing at her other woman’s touch.

“I’ve been his mistress for years and I’m not about to let him ruin everything for some bimbo who thinks dressing like that is what he likes!”

Janet was too stunned to speak. Sally? Sweet, boring, in-the-background Sally? She couldn’t imagine Him with her, no. No. That was a lie, it had to be! Janet had been seeing Him for over a month, she would have noticed something, she…

“I won’t let you have him,” Sally said again, “and I’m going to teach you a lesson…”

Without another word, her hand flew to Janet’s ear, and she was dragging her towards the desk. With cries of pain, Janet followed.

“Stop! What are you doing!” she moaned, to no avail.

“I’ll show you what little sluts like you deserve…” Sally muttered through gritted teeth. Sitting down in His chair, she forced the younger girl over her knees.

“You can’t be serious!” Janet protested, incredulous, “who do you think you—”

The first slap landing on her ample bottom broke her train of thought. It hurt! She kicked her legs and tried to get off, but Sally was surprisingly strong, and, peppering her bottom with one hand, she held her firmly with the other. Within seconds, the pain seemed to spread, and Sally was not stopping.

“You can’t do this!” Janet cried out, somewhat unconvincingly. Her eyes were tearing up as her bottom was warming, and she tried to cover it with her hand. Scoffing, Sally pushed it away, and it only made her spank harder. The panties, as nice as they were, offered little protection against the ire of the scorned woman.

“Jim deserves the best,” Sally said, “and I always make sure he gets it…”

“Well, then,” Janet said defiantly, “then you should let him have me, rather than having to deal with your saggy tits…”

Silence. The slaps stopped as both Sally and Janet fell silent. The latter couldn’t believe that she had just said that. The former stunned into apoplexy that this girl, this airhead, this slut would dare talk to her like that.

“You did NOT just say that,” she roared, and grabbed Janet’s panties to lower them down to her thighs. “I’ll show you just what you deserve…”

The slaps fell fast and hard, as did the scolding, the belittling, the insults. Clearly, Janet had unknowingly struck a nerve. Unfortunately for her, she was in too much pain to appreciate it. Her bottom was burning, her sit spots were on fire, and Sally was not stopping. Tears were now running down Janet’s face, and she didn’t know how this was all going to end.

“Please…” she begged between two sobs, “I’ll do whatever you want…”

“You won’t see Jim again?” Sally asked, holding her hand up menacingly.

“Well, I…” Janet hesitated. Sally hand slapped her offered bottom once again.

“Shouldn’t He get to decide?” Janet sobbed, “Why did He get with me in the first place, huh?”

“He…” Sally hesitated, “He can be like that, sometimes… He gets distracted…”

Janet waited for the slaps to come. The silence stretched. Taking deep breaths to try and calm the raging fire in her behind, she asked:

“Has… Has this happened before? I mean, am I the first one that—”

“No.” Sally cut her, bitterly. “No, you’re not the first… mistake… that he made. I had to… Correct some other girls’ silly ideas… Like I said, he gets distracted…”

She fell silent once more. Janet didn’t dare move to soothe her blistered behind, for fear that the other woman would start spanking her again.

“But…” Sally began, “He always comes back to me…”

Janet could hear the hurt in that voice, the slightest twitch of regret. Her hatred of the other woman seemed to fly away in that instant.

“Oh, Sally…” she said, moving to get up. The older woman said nothing and didn’t stop her. Janet stood up in front of her tormentor, her hands unconsciously flying to clutch her bruised bottom. She winced, then looked at Sally. Tears were running down her face as well.

“Oh, Sally…” Janet said again, and against all instincts, she took the woman in her arms.

“Sally, you deserve so much better…”

“I don’t want better,” Sally sobbed, “I want him.”

***

In the end, it turned out that when both women brought proof of what Jim had been doing for all these years, his wife did actually care about it very much. Far form the stupid, pampered bimbo that Janet had imagined from Sally’s description, his wife had been generous and empathetic. Most importantly, she had gotten mad at him rather than at the other women. As the high-profile divorce made headline for months, all three women found themselves forming an unexpected friendship, and saw each other often long after.

More surprisingly still, Janet found herself over Sally’s lap again, numerous times. That night in the office had opened doors in her that she hadn’t known existed, and she had been eager to cross that threshold again, but with a friend, a lover, that time. Sally, it turned out, had been just as eager.

Adven 21 – A Perfect Evening

When he came home, I thought we would have the most perfect evening. We had said we were going to put the tree up that night, something I’d been looking forward to for weeks in this bleakest of years. I had put mulled wine to warm up on the stove, Christmas music was playing…

But the minute he passed the door, everything seemed to go wrong. Well, I say passed the door… I had left my keys in it, locked, and he had to bang on the door for five minutes before I heard him, busy as I was bellowing Christmas songs from the kitchen. Mortified, blushing and looking down, I let him take his coat and shoes off before starting to apologise as best I could. He didn’t let me finish, dismissing me with a wave, and my heart sank.

Sheepishly, I followed him to the living-room where I’d laid out the tree and the many boxes of decorations that we have accumulated over the years. I was ready to put a silly Christmas film on and forget the door incident. But he sighed.

‘Are we doing this tonight?’ he asked, clearly not up for it.

I looked down. ‘Well, we’d said we…’

‘I know, I know, fine…’ he said. My eyes were down, but I could feel his eyes rolling.

‘Did you have a bad day?’ I asked, gently.

‘No, I’m fine, just tired’ was all he said.

Suddenly, I remembered the wine on the stove. ‘Shit!’ I said and ran over there. As I’d feared, it had started to boil. Not a tragedy, in the grand scheme of things, but still… One more thing that wasn’t going right.

‘Can you grab me a beer while you’re in there?’ he called from the living-room. With a sigh, I served a single mugful of mulled wine and got him a beer.

When I came back to the living-room, the tree was up, bare as it was. He was rummaging around in one of the boxes, looking for something. I set the drinks on the table. Well, I tried to. I tripped on a bunch of lights and everything went crashing to the floor, lights, drinks and all. He jumped and took my hand, genuinely worried.

‘Are you okay?’

I sighed.

‘It’s not the evening I wanted…’

‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘just pick a movie, I’ll get a mop, yeah? Then we can decorate, wrap presents, and it’ll all be okay.’

I wiped tears from my eyes and nodded. He went to get a mop, and I started browsing. Maybe things would be fine after all.

‘Honey?’ he called from the kitchen, ‘What’s in the oven?’

The oven? I thought. The oven. Fuck! The oatmeal cookies I had made were probably completely burnt… I rushed to the oven and, sure enough, smoke billowed out when I opened the door. I bit my lip, and felt tears running down my cheeks.

‘Honey?’ he asked. ‘Are you sure everything’s all right?’

‘No…’ I managed in a tearful little voice, ‘It’s really not…’

‘They’re just cookies, my love, it doesn’t matter…’

‘It’s…’ I started, hesitating, then everything came out at once, ‘It’s everything, it’s covid, it’s not seeing family this year, then the door, and you’re mad about the tree and I burnt the cookies and spilled the wine and…

He shushed me gently and took me in his big, bear arms. I cried my eyes out in his chest. His hand came up to stroke my hair and slowly, I calmed down.

‘Tell me what you need…’ he said.

‘I… I feel so bad, about everything…’

‘Honey… It’s okay…’

‘No… Will you… Will you spank me? And then we can start over…’

‘A nice, cathartic spanking?’

‘Yes… I want to be over your knees… I want to let go… Please?’

Gently, carefully, he took my hand and led me to a chair in the kitchen, where he sat down. I took my jeans down. He was smiling up at me. I blushed. Lovingly, he put me down over his knees, and I abandoned myself to his embrace, to his loving discipline. Despite the pain, I smiled as the guilt left me with each slap of his hand.

Once it was all over, and my tears were exhausted, we decorated the tree, drinking freshly made mugs of mulled wine; we watched a silly Christmas film just like I wanted, and nibbled on burnt cookies while laughing at each other’s awful Christmas pun. All the while, my bottom was burning, and I loved him all the more for it.

Company Policy

To be honest, Lana had fantasised about that moment. She had dreamt of it; she had imagined how it would play out. So when the day came, she was beyond ready. It started with a very polite smile and one simple sentence:

‘Oh but ma’am, I am the manager.’

That stopped the harpy in her tirade. The coupons were strewn on the counter. The superior air was instantly deflated, and the older, short-haired, haughty woman started to stutter.

‘Wh-wh-what?’ she said, eyeing 22-year-old Lana up and down, ‘Don’t… Don’t lie to me, you stroppy brat!’

Still smiling, Lana slammed her ID badge on the counter, hard enough to make the woman flinch and look at her, worried. The woman hummed and hawed, looking at the ID with wide eyes. It clearly stated Manager in bold, red letters.

‘So,’ Lana begun, ‘like I said, we don’t accept expired coupons.’

The woman huffed. ‘Typical…’ she muttered, ‘You young people have everything handed to you…’

Lana pointed to a sign taped to the till that read ‘Staff abuse will not be tolerated’.

‘I suggest you stop, ma’am, or I will be forced to take action.’ she said, simply, pleasantly, never dropping the smile.

‘Or what?’ the older woman snapped, ‘You’ll force me to listen to another of the horrible songs that always play in here? Probably your boyfriend’s shitty band!’ She looked around at the few other clients in the store, hoping for support. All she got were raised eyebrows and shaking heads. Undeterred, she continued ranting.

‘I’m not surprised there are so few clients anyway, with such poor service, and your shitty attitude! Young people shouldn’t be in charge, they always mess it up! You should be ashamed!’

Lana walked around the counter. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to leave, ma’am…’

‘You can ask all you want, you little trollop! The customer is always right! Don’t you know the first thing about following store policies?’

Lana pointed to the sign again. She tapped the small prints.

‘Oh I do; in fact I was hoping you would bring it up. Look here: per company policy, any abuse will be met with corporal punishment.’

The woman blanched, and probably for the first time in her life, fell silent. It lasted a few delicious heartbeats, during which Lana’s smile only grew wider.

‘You… You can’t!…’ the woman tried.

‘Sorry ma’am,’ Lana said with relish, ‘it’s company policy!’

Without giving the woman time to argue, Lana grabbed her wrist and dragged her over to a chair that lay innocently in a corner by the counter. Having dreamt so much about it, she felt like she was just performing a role she had rehearsed many times before. Stunned, the woman only started to resist too late to change the outcome.

Lana liked to finish her day with a workout, and she was much stronger than the Karen in her grasp. Sitting down, she forced the tyrant over her lap and wasted no time in landing the first hard slap over her tight jeans. The woman screamed.

The few other customers in the shop didn’t move a single muscle to help her, and more slaps rained down, sharp and loud. The woman pleaded. She screamed more. She threatened. Nothing made Lana stop. Again and again, she slapped the woman’s ass. For an older woman, it was quite firm, shapely, bouncy. Truth be told, Lana was enjoying this immensely.

The threats slowly turned to sobs, pitiful and quiet, until Lana grabbed the jean’s waistband and started to pull down.

‘No!’ the woman pleaded with what was left of her defiance. ‘Not on the bare! People… people will see!’

‘You had no problem with people being there when you were yelling at me, did you?’

The woman said nothing.

‘You have no issue with witnesses when you humiliate store clerks, do you?

Still no answer, but the woman wriggled uncomfortably.

‘Now, I think you know that they’re coming down no matter what, so I’d advise you make it easier on yourself, ma’am….’ Lana said, menacingly.

With a defeated sigh, the woman reached for her jeans and managed to undo the button. With the woman’s jeans and white panties down to her thighs, Lana could finally admire the results of her handiwork. The round buttocks were already a dark pink, and the trembling woman had given up all hope of resisting what was to come.

The other client had long ago stopped browsing, and only pretended to look at the merchandise on offer, instead darting eyes over to the scene playing out. The smiles and nods were all the encouragement Lana needed to raise her hand once more.

With a loud SMACK!, she sent the bottom wobbling again, and the conceited woman cried out once more. More slaps came down, leaving marks and prints every time, turning the arrogant ass a bright crimson. Tears were running down the woman’s cheeks, and she was mumbling apologies in a tearful voice.

Lana continued spanking her for long, humiliating minutes, until the woman’s ass was red throughout and burning to the touch. The tears had not stopped rolling, and the sobs were a pleasant music to her ears. Then she spanked her some more, until at last she was satisfied.

None too gently, she got the woman up and dragged her to a corner of the shop. The woman kept her head down and didn’t protest. When Lana told her to put her hands on her head, she obeyed. Her jeans stayed down; so did her panties. In the following hours, the store got busier than it had ever been, as clients seemed to come in but not leave. In fact, most of them seemed to find every article in the store very interesting and made a point of checking each an every one of them in detail. As she prepared to close the store down, she tapped the woman’s shoulder and pointed to the door. With a sigh and a shameful nod, the woman pulled her jeans up and ran away.

N7

As Gesperax pointed out, there aren’t any Batarian females in the games! That’s all the excuse I needed, really, but now that the Mass Effect trilogy remaster has been officially announced and that another game is in development… 😀