I fucked up big time. It was a simple report with numbers that should have added up but I had transposed a couple of digits, and now the whole quarterly projection was off by thousands. My boss, Mr. Harlan, spotted it during the morning meeting, his face turning that shade of red that made everyone in the office scatter like roaches. He's 38, tall and broad-shouldered from his gym obsession, with sharp blue eyes that could pin you in place and dark hair cropped short. Always in those tailored suits that hug his frame just right, making him look like he owns the world which, in our department, he pretty much does.
By noon, my email pinged: 'My office. Now.' Heart pounding, I grabbed my notebook and headed down the hall, the fluorescent lights buzzing like a bad omen. His door was ajar, and I knocked lightly before pushing in. He sat behind his massive oak desk, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up to show forearms corded with muscle. 'Close the door,' he barked, not looking up from his screen.
I did, standing there like a kid in the principal's office. 'Sir, about the report—'
He cut me off with a glare, standing up so fast his chair scraped back. 'You think an apology fixes this? That screw-up could cost us the Henderson account. I've been covering for you long enough, Cole.' His voice was low, controlled, but laced with that edge that made my stomach twist.
'I know, sir. I'll fix it right away.' I shifted, heat creeping up my neck.
He rounded the desk, towering over me at 6'2 to my 5'10. 'Fix it? No. You're going to learn.' His eyes raked me over, from my rumpled shirt to my slacks, and something shifted in his gaze, anger mixing with hunger. 'Lock the door.'
My pulse raced. 'What?'
'You heard me.' He stepped closer, invading my space, his cologne, something woody and sharp, filling my nose. I turned, fingers fumbling with the lock, the click echoing loud in the quiet room. When I faced him again, he'd unbuckled his belt, the leather sliding free with a whisper. 'Bend over the desk.'
'Sir—'
'Now, Cole. Or you're fired.' His tone left no room for argument, but the way his lips twitched said this was more than just discipline.
Swallowing hard, I moved to the desk, palms flat on the cool wood, ass out. He didn't make me wait, the first crack of the belt landed across my cheeks through my pants, stinging sharp. I yelped, gripping the edge. 'Count them.'
'One,' I gasped, the burn spreading.
Another lash, harder, right on the same spot. 'Two.' My cock twitched traitorously, the pain sparking something low in my gut.
He gave me ten, each strike making my ass throb under the fabric. By the end, I was breathing heavy, tears pricking my eyes, but hard as hell, pressing against the desk. He tossed the belt aside, hands on my hips, yanking my slacks and boxers down in one go. Cool air hit my heated skin, and I moaned soft when his palm cupped one cheek, kneading the welts.
'Look at you,' he murmured, voice rough. 'Taking it like you need it. You want this?'
I nodded, face burning. 'Yes, sir.'
His fingers traced the red lines, then dipped lower, brushing my balls. I spread my legs wider on instinct, and he chuckled dark. 'Eager slut.' A finger circled my hole, dry at first, teasing, then he spat into his palm, slicking it up before pushing in knuckle-deep. I groaned, pushing back, the intrusion burning good.
'Greedy,' he said, adding a second finger, twisting them to stretch me. His free hand reached around, palming my cock which was hard, leaking pre-cum onto his desk. He stroked slow, thumb swiping the head, while his fingers fucked in and out, scissoring wide. 'You come in here every day, teasing me with that ass. This is your punishment. I get to fuck you today.'
'Please,' I begged, rocking between his hand and fingers. The office clock ticked, reminding me anyone could knock, but that risk only made it hotter.
He pulled his fingers free, leaving me empty, and I heard his zipper. Fabric rustled, then the blunt head of his dick nudged my hole. I felt bigger than I'd imagined. 'Beg for it well.'
'Fuck me, Mr. Harlan. Punish my ass with your cock.'
He gripped my hips bruising, and thrust in halfway first, stretching me wide, the burn making me cry out. 'Quiet,' he growled, clamping a hand over my mouth. Then he slammed home, balls slapping my thighs, filling me to the hilt. I saw stars, muffled moans into his palm as he held still, letting me adjust to the girth.
'Good boy,' he whispered, hand sliding to my throat, squeezing light. Then he started moving, pulling out slow, dragging over every nerve, before pounding back in. The desk shook with each snap of his hips, papers scattering. His cock hit deep, grinding my prostate, sparks shooting up my spine.
I braced harder, ass clenching around him, loving the fullness, the dominance. He fucked like he meant it, one hand fisting my hair to arch my back, the other jerking my dick in time with his thrusts. 'This hole's mine now. Screw up again, and I'll bend you over every meeting.'
'Yes... fuck, sir!' I panted when he eased his grip on my throat. Sweat dripped down my back, his chest pressing to me, suit jacket rough against my skin. He angled sharper, nailing that spot relentless, my balls drawing up tight.
'Not yet,' he ordered, slowing to long, deep drags that made me whine. He pulled out almost fully, then rammed back, over and over, teasing the edge. His hand sped on my cock, twisting at the head, and I bucked, so close.
'Cum for me, Cole. Show your boss how much you love this punishment.'
I shattered, ass spasming, cum shooting across his desk in thick ropes. He groaned, thrusts turning sloppy, then buried deep, flooding me with heat, pulse after pulse painting my insides. We stayed locked, breathing ragged, his weight pinning me down.
He pulled out slow, cum trickling down my thigh. I felt wrecked, sated, as he tucked himself away, then helped me straighten, handing me tissues from his drawer. His eyes softened a fraction. 'Clean up. And fix that report, properly this time.'
I nodded, legs shaky, but a grin tugged my lips. 'Yes, sir.'
As I dressed, he watched, leaning against the desk. 'Dinner tonight. My place. We'll discuss your... performance review.'
Heat flushed me again. 'I'd like that.'
The door clicked unlocked behind me as I left, but the promise lingered. Work just got a whole lot more interesting.
That evening, I showed up at his upscale apartment, nerves buzzing. He answered in jeans and a tee looking all casual, but still commanding and pulled me inside by the collar of my shirt. 'Strip.' No hello, straight to it.
I did, clothes pooling at my feet, cock already half-hard from the memory. He circled me, eyes appraising. 'Hands behind your back.' I obeyed, and he produced soft leather cuffs from a drawer, clicking them shut around my wrists. 'For the report. Extra punishment.'
He led me to the living room, bending me over the arm of the couch. His palm cracked down first, bare skin this time, the sting sharper without the belt's buffer. I counted to twenty, each spank making my ass glow, cock leaking onto the cushions.
'Good,' he praised, rubbing the heat in.
'On your knees,' he commanded after, uncuffing one hand to guide me down. His jeans tented, and I nuzzled the bulge, mouthing through denim before he freed his thick curved cock. I sucked the head, tongue swirling the slit, tasting salt. He gripped my hair, feeding more in, hips rocking to fuck my throat steady.
'Gag on it,' he said, and I did, relaxing to take him deep, nose to his pubes, saliva dripping. He pulled back, strings connecting us, then slapped his dick on my tongue. 'Up. Couch.'
He sat, legs spread, and I straddled him, wrists recuffed behind. His hands on my hips, he guided me down slow until I bottomed out, his cock spearing me full. I rode him tentative at first, then faster, ass bouncing, his thumbs digging crescents into my skin.
'Fuck yourself on my cock,' he growled, leaning to bite my nipple, sucking hard enough to bruise. I ground down, circling hips to hit that spot, moans spilling free. He thrust up to meet me, balls slapping my ass, one hand sneaking to pinch my other nipple.
Sweat slicked us, the room filling with grunts and wet sounds. He uncuffed me fully, wrapping my arms around his neck. 'Kiss me.' Our mouths crashed as he took over, bouncing me on his lap, pounding up relentless.
'Close—sir—'
'Hold it.' He flipped us, me on my back, legs over his shoulders. Folded nearly in half, he drove deep, prostate hammered, vision blurring. 'Now. Cum.'
I did, untouched, spurting across my chest. He followed, groaning my name, filling me again.
'You're mine now,' he murmured.
'Yeah,' I agreed, hand in his hair.