J. McKenna - Secretary’s Punishment

Did she really want it to stop?

Standing over the sink, Emily took a damp paper towel and patted her face to cool down, staring at herself in the mirror. She saw an attractive girl staring back, with a flush to her face and her pupils slightly dilated as if she had just taken a drug. Those hormones are powerful things, she mused. This situation seemed so strange, she could hardly believe it was happening to her. And yet, here she was, falling under the spell of her stern boss.

No, wait, she decided. I’m really falling under the spell of my own desires. Why do I like it—it’s so completely wrong! No, she thought, shaking her head. It’s not so much like as it is need . What did that make her?

She returned to her desk and sat down gingerly, wincing when her sore bottom made contact. She pulled up the letter and made the corrections. When it came out of the printer, she brought the letter and envelope in to Mr. Caudry and waited nervously for him to approve them. He nodded curtly and gave her that same thin smile that she knew represented great joy to the taciturn man. Pleased, she started to leave, when he spoke, his words cutting through her soul like an icicle.

“Miss Robinson. From now on, I don’t want you to wear pantyhose.”

She froze, her mouth half open to protest. But it was her pussy that spoke to her, throbbing anew, causing her knees to shake. “Yes, sir,” was all she said and retreated.

The next morning, Emily stepped naked from the bathroom and rooted through her drawers to find the right pair of panties to wear. Nothing sexy, for she feared he might very well see them. Just thinking about it made her body tremble. She found a pair of white granny panties and slipped them on. They made her feel safe somehow, although it was a foolish notion. It would be like holding up an umbrella to protect oneself from lightning.

She dressed in a conservative skirt and blouse and walked to her car, feeling the breeze over her legs. Normally, she disliked pantyhose, but they gave her a sense of protection. Now she was being ordered not to wear them—she should’ve felt elated, but it only made her shudder with both fear and desire.

She arrived first, as usual, and settled in behind her desk, her legs primly closed together, and began working on the weekly report. She could see by comparison to the other salesmen, Mr. Caudry was far and away the best and therefore the most valuable of the company’s senior staff. There was no way they would ever fire him, no matter what complaints she might make.

That’s assuming I would ever want to make a complaint, a voice in her head said suddenly. Before she could puzzle over that odd thought, Mr. Caudry arrived. She sat up and smiled at him and wished him a good morning.

He paused by the desk and said, “Would you come into my office, please, Miss Robinson?”

She was stunned by his politeness and jumped up to follow him inside.

“Close the door.”

Emily obeyed, trying to quiet the turmoil within her.

“Did you honor my request?”

She knew at once what he meant. “Uh, yes, sir.”

“Turn around. Show me.”

She stared at him. This was clearly over the line. She was not going to stand here and show her boss her panties! Yet her body turned and hands seemed to move by themselves down to the hem of her skirt, even as her brain told her in no uncertain terms to stop. Tell him this isn’t right. Tell him you’re not that kind of woman.

But the hem was rising now and she seemed unable to stop herself. She could feel the air on her thighs now and felt a flush rise to her face. Now her hands were up near her waist, giving Mr. Caudry a view of her panties. What is wrong with you? she asked herself.

She heard a long sigh of disappointment and knew what he meant. Her panties did not pass muster. They were boring and unsexy.

“Those are the ugliest panties I’ve ever seen,” he said.

She hung her head in shame and then realized how foolish she was acting. “I’m sorry, sir, you didn’t say what kind. You just said not to wear pantyhose.”

“Yes, that much is good. Well, I’m not going to tell you want panties to wear. But if you insist on wearing ugly ones like that, then I’ll have to ask you to remove them before punishments.”

Emily thought she’d been shocked before, but his words now rocked her so hard she had to drop her hem and grab the arm of a nearby chair to keep from falling down.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. I was just a little dizzy there for a second.”

“Yes, well ... I suggest you go out at lunch and find some panties that are more appropriate for the workplace.”

“Uh, yes, sir.” She didn’t ask what kind would be “more appropriate.” She already knew.

“Very well, you’re dismissed. Please get me a cup of coffee.”

He said “please” again! Emily felt she had achieved a great breakthrough in their working relationship, not pausing to consider how unusual it had become. She nodded and thanked him—thanked him!—and practically ran to do his bidding.

Emily concentrated on her work, determined not to make any mistakes. She wrote up three letters that morning, all perfect. Mr. Caudry nodded his approval and said nothing else.

When her lunch break arrived, she told her boss she was leaving. When he looked up from his desk and gave her that narrow smile, she felt a glow within as if he had just given her a raise. Emily headed at once down to a department store three blocks away and began looking through the racks of panties. She wanted sexy but not too sexy, she decided. But as her fingers moved through the racks, she found herself selecting more revealing undergarments. Stopping at one point, she went through her selections and found they were all very sexy and some were nothing more than thongs!

She quickly put the thongs back and selected three pairs, one high-cut briefs, one French cut and one bikini panties. She had to put them on her credit card, for she still had not yet been paid. This expense was really unnecessary, she told herself, since she had panties at home. But none were as sexy as these! Did she secretly want to please him?

Back at the office, she tucked her purchases into a desk drawer and went back to the reports. Mr. Caudry came back from lunch a half-hour later. She waited. Sure enough, he said, “Come into my office, please.”

Emily knew exactly what he wanted. She followed him, pausing only a second to retrieve her bag of underwear. Closing the door behind her, she stood there and waited for his orders.

“Show me what you bought.”

She took out the briefs and held them up. They were white and plain and only slightly sexier than the grannys she had on. He tsked and frowned and she knew at once they had been a mistake. He would probably not allow her to wear them. She put them away and removed the French cut, a pale yellow pair with a lacy edge. He gave a small smile and tipped his head. They were better, his expression told her.

Finally, she pulled out the light blue bikini briefs and he nodded. “Much better. Please put them on.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and started to leave.

“Where are you going?”

She froze. “Uh, I was going to the ladies room...”

“No, put them on here. You can turn around. I’m sure you won’t show much.”

“But sir! You can’t ... you can’t ask me...”

Mr. Caudry said nothing, he simply stared at her. Emily found herself obeying—why did she obey him so easily? Was it his voice? His expression? She turned and dropped her bag on the chair, still holding the blue panties in one hand. She reached up underneath her skirt, tugged down her grannys and stepped out of them. Moving quickly, she slipped on the sexy pair and pulled them into position, careful not to show Mr. Caudry too much of her bottom.