"Emma?"
Nathalie’s soft, familiar voice jolted me out of the haze of my erotic daydreams. Nathalie, a radiant blonde nearing her forties, carried an effortless elegance that turned heads without trying. Her silky hair fell in gentle waves over her shoulders, and her hazel eyes sparkled with a subtle mischief. My favorite colleague, without a doubt.
"Yes, Nath?" I replied, giving my head a little shake as if to dispel the heated images still flickering behind my eyelids. "Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts again."
As I snapped back to reality, it hit me how much my fixation on Lush was consuming me. I’d started writing on that site as a release, a way to exorcise my most hidden fantasies. But instead of taming them, it had fanned the flames, turning a smoldering ember into a wildfire. Worse still, I had no desire to stop. I craved more, deeper, darker.
Nathalie flashed me a smile tinged with playful mockery. "You’re always lost in your head these days. I can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that pretty little redhead mind of yours."
A faint warmth crept up my cheeks. "Nothing exciting, just thinking about what I need to pick up at the store tonight," I lied, glancing away and pretending to smooth a nonexistent wrinkle on my black pencil skirt.
"Uh-huh," she replied, her grin widening. She didn’t buy it for a second, and I couldn’t exactly blame her. What would she think if she caught even a glimpse of the perverse thoughts that danced through my mind daily? Visions of forbidden embraces, skin brushing in shadows, hoarse whispers cutting through stifling silence…
"Eric wants to see you," she said suddenly, her smile fading into something more serious. My stomach tightened. This wasn’t good. Lately, I’d been spending far too much time chatting on Lush or scribbling snippets of my stories, even here at work. My tasks were piling up, deadlines slipping through my fingers, and I knew Eric, with his keen eye for detail, hadn’t missed it.
I rose from my chair with little enthusiasm, smoothing my skirt over my thighs. My sneakers made the polished hardwood crack softly as I made my way toward Eric’s office. Just before crossing the threshold, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder, ensuring no one’s eyes lingered in my direction. Subtly, my fingers drifted to the neckline of my burgundy blouse. I adjusted it with care, letting the silk dip just a fraction lower, revealing a hint more of the soft curve of my chest.
Looking back, I couldn’t tell if it was a calculated move to soften him, to coax a gentler gaze from those intense blue eyes, or if my body had acted on its own, driven by a deliciously inappropriate thought in this professional haven. My heart beat a little faster, and a treacherous warmth crept up my neck as I pushed the door open.
Eric was engrossed in his screen, his fingers hovering above the keyboard, and his voice cut through the air, firm yet calm, without so much as a glance in my direction.
“Come in, Emma, and close the door behind you, please.”
A sudden chill washed over me, and I felt the blood drain from my face as I pushed the door shut. The soft click of the latch echoed in the room, and it was then, for the first time, that I noticed the discreet lock set into the dark wood. My breath caught. In an instant, my mind ignited, flooded with raw, forbidden scenes. I pictured myself turning that lock with a slow, deliberate twist, then being under his desk, my lips used as his hand, commanding, tangled in my red hair to set the rhythm. Then, in another flash, it was him seizing me, pinning my chest against the solid wood of his desk, my skirt hiked up in haste, his hips crashing into mine in a raw, deep cadence.
My thoughts weren’t surprising, not after the advances Eric had made a few months ago, those half-whispered words in the dim light of a late office evening. Part of me still wondered about the real reason for this summons, and that uncertainty set my nerves humming like a taut string.
A jolt of electricity shot through me, snapping me back to reality with a gasp. My fingers quivered faintly, but I didn’t touch the lock. Leaving the door closed but unlatched, I turned to face him, my stomach knotted. I approached his desk.
“You wanted to see me, Eric?” I managed, my throat dry, my voice catching mid-sentence, rough with a mix of dread and something else.
He stayed silent for a moment, focused on his screen. “Yes, Emma, sorry, I was finishing an email,” he said at last, releasing his keyboard to turn toward me. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, slicing through me, and my breath hitched under their intensity. “I wanted to see you because, for the past few weeks, you’ve been behind on all your files. I’d like to know what’s going on,” he continued, his tone firm but not yet cold, still laced with that warmth that made him so magnetic.
I swallowed, fumbling for words. “Yes, I… I’ve had some personal issues lately. I’m sorry, I plan to catch up by the end of next week,” I stammered, my fingers nervously tugging at the hem of my pencil skirt.
He lowered his gaze, took a long breath, and I watched his shoulders straighten beneath his impeccably tailored gray suit. When he stood, his commanding frame seemed to fill the room. He dominated the space effortlessly.
“Personal issues shouldn’t interfere with work,” he sighed, his voice dipping into a deeper, almost cutting register as he rounded his desk.
My heart raced, and a cold pallor washed over my cheeks. He stopped beside me, so close I could catch his scent, masculine blend that sent my senses reeling. “Imagine if everyone did what you’re doing. This can’t happen again,” he added, his words heavy with warning.
“I’m sorry, Eric, I…” I faltered, my lips trembling.
“That’s a bit easy, isn’t it?” he cut in, a trace of anger now roughening his voice, sharp and restrained.
Before I could reply, his hands, broad and powerful, landed on me, one on my shoulder, the other at the small of my back. With a swift motion, he bent me forward, my chest slamming against the smooth wood of his desk. My breasts, confined, pressed hard against the cold surface, and my long red hair spilled around my face as my hands splayed instinctively to brace myself.
“Stay like that,” he commanded, his voice now icy, a whisper that sank into my bones. “I need to make sure you’ve understood.”
My heart pounded wildly, and a slick warmth bloomed between my thighs as I felt his fingers grip the fabric of my skirt. With a confident tug, he hiked it up, exposing my hips and the curve of my ass to the cool air of the room.
“Listen, I…” I started, still bent over, hands spread on the desk, his presence looming behind me.
“I need you to tell me you’ve understood,” he interrupted, unrelenting.
“I’m sorry, I’ve understood,” I sobbed, my voice shaky, teetering on the edge of tears.
It was at that moment I heard it.
Almost before I felt it.
The sharp, crisp smack of his hand against my bare, offered ass.
The sound echoed in the room, and a fierce sting erupted on my skin. For the first time since childhood, I was being spanked. But here, in the charged intimacy of this Haussmannian office, it carried an entirely different weight.
“Say it,” he ordered, his voice cutting like a steel wire.
“I’ve understood,” I replied, struggling to steady my breath, my voice quaking as I fought to reclaim some calm.
His hand struck again, harder this time, and the raw sensation rippled through me like a shockwave. My teeth sank into my lower lip to stifle a sound, but my hips arched involuntarily.
“Again,” he demanded, unrelenting.
“I’ve understood,” I repeated, louder now, my voice echoing in the charged room.
Another smack rang out, reverberating in the air, paired with a warmth that blossomed where his palm had landed. A small whimper slipped from me, unbidden, treacherous, and I felt my cheeks flush under his gaze.
“Louder,” he said, raising his voice, his tone now thick with an authority that sent shivers down my spine.
“I’ve understood,” I nearly shouted, trying to match his volume, my throat tight with effort and mounting arousal.
The next slap was fiercer, deeper, and I couldn’t hold back the moan that burst from my lips, open and unrestrained. The submission washing over me was exquisite, a delicious surrender that set my blood ablaze. Between my thighs, a hot, slick heat betrayed me, and I could feel Eric’s intense, burning eyes devouring my offered form. My red hair swayed with each strike, cascading like a fiery wave under his onslaught.
Suddenly, his hand coiled into my hair, gripping my locks with a firm hold to cement his dominance. A ragged sigh escaped me, a “yes” slipping out in a breath, almost against my will, as my body yielded to his control.
He circled the desk without releasing my hair, tugging just enough to pull my face toward him. Standing tall, commanding, he positioned my mouth right at the level of his fly, which he began undoing with his other hand in a slow, deliberate motion.
“If you don’t complete the tasks assigned to you,” he began, his voice low and menacing as he freed his cock, hard and straining, brushing instantly against my still closed lips, “we’ll have to find another use for you.” Without pause, he thrust his hot, delicious length into my mouth, sinking it deep, overwhelming my senses with a force that made me reel.
My lips parted under the pressure, and a shiver ran through me as he took control, his hand still tangled in my hair, his piercing blue gaze locked on me. Bent over the desk, thrummed with a tension laced with desire, my skirt hiked up to reveal my hips, reddened from his slaps, as I surrendered to this new facet of his dominance.
He began to claim my mouth, which was now wholly his. Each thrust of his hips sent shudders of pleasure through my trembling body, and I could feel the veined ridges of his cock sliding between my lips, hot and slick, as my tongue danced eagerly along his rigid length. A raw ecstasy consumed me, and I silently begged for this moment to never end, for this delicious submission to stretch endlessly within the hushed intimacy of his office.
As he drove into me with steady thrusts, he rasped, “So it’s just a temporary problem?”
“What an odd thing to say in a moment like this,” I thought, my mind teetering.
“What?” I gasped, my voice muffled by surprise.
And then, just like that, I snapped out of it. My eyes fluttered open to a starkly different scene: I was still standing, upright before his desk, my hands clutching at nothing. He sat there, gazing at me with those intense blue eyes, serious and probing. The fantasy dissolved like mist scattered by the wind.
“So it’s just a temporary problem?” he repeated, his voice steady and professional, stripped of any hint of the dominance I’d conjured.
“Y-Yes, sorry, I’ll catch up on the delay,” I stammered, my cheeks flaring as I grounded myself, still dazed by the vivid images that had just assaulted me.
“Perfect, that’s reassuring,” he replied with unruffled calm, a faint smile softening his features. “We’ll check in at the end of next week,” he added, as if nothing unusual had transpired.
“OK, noted,” I said simply, my voice barely hiding its quiver.
“You can go. I just wanted to address this and make sure it wasn’t anything serious,” he concluded, his tone almost fatherly.
“Thank you, Eric,” I murmured, my face burning, acutely aware of the lingering wetness between my thighs, a remnant of the vivid, perverse thoughts that had overwhelmed me. My legs wobbled slightly as I turned. I left his office without closing the door, leaving behind a heavy silence, thick with the echo of my unspoken fantasies.
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