Never Enough Ch. 04

Chapter Four - The confession

It was Friday. My third day working for Benjamin, and even though I wouldn't be seeing him today, I wore trousers. And knickers. And a bra. They made me feel much more secure.

I felt altogether more work-focused and professional, and I resolved to put yesterday behind me. A clean slate after what had been a rocky start to my relationship with my new boss: Turning in some disappointing work, being flustered and disorganised, and then accidentally letting him see that I'd been spanked that morning - and, even worse, that I wasn't wearing any underwear under my short skirt.

Although it was, objectively, outrageous behaviour that he'd had me bend over his desk, lifted up my dress, and then spanked my bare bottom, I had kind of deserved it. None of it would have happened if I'd done my job properly and dressed appropriately.

Today, I told myself, Benjamin will be impressed with me. I'll have the new brief in his inbox by the end of the day, and it'll be thorough and at the very high standard of quality that I pride myself on.

The morning went very well. A couple of client meetings, and a 3 hour block of uninterrupted time to focus on the brief. I was completely absorbed in my work, feeling energetic and productive. So it was unfortunate that as I headed out to grab some lunch from the little deli down the road, I bumped into Benjamin waiting for the lift.

"Oh hi," I smiled, determined for things to be normal between us. Yesterday simply hadn't happened, I kept telling myself.

He nodded a greeting, and then turned to face the lift again. His suit was unbuttoned, and his muscular chest was evident even under his white shirt and blue tie.

I stood awkwardly beside him, my heart beating fast. From what I could tell from the reflection in the silver lift door, I was looking attractive but smart in my figure hugging trousers and navy shirt.

"How..." I began, determined to make some small talk and make things feel more casual. "... are you settling in?"

It was lame, but it was all I could think of.

He turned to look at me, and I felt colour rise in my cheeks despite myself. He was very inconveniently attractive, and no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn't help but remember being over his desk yesterday while he spanked my naked bottom with his hand.

"Yes very well thank you Jen," he replied. He didn't smile, but he wasn't frowning either. "And how are you today?"

He continued to look at me, and I made myself maintain eye contact.

"Oh yes, I'm good thanks. I've been making good progress on the Atherton Brief."

"Excellent," he replied, with an incline of his head as he nodded approval. "And I see you're wearing trousers today."

My stomach flipped at this inappropriate remark, and I definitely blushed.

"Er, yes," I responded weakly, and turned to look at the lift display. It was still 3 floors away.

"That's a shame," he said, also turning to look at the lift display.

He said it in the manner of a teacher who'd just learned that one of his pupils had done something to disappoint him.

A difficult silence fell, although as far I could see he didn't find it remotely difficult.

The lift arrived with an electronic ping, and the doors slid open to reveal the empty mirrored interior.

We stepped in together, and then I instantly felt even more self conscious as the doors closed and we were in the confined space together.

"Why do you say that?" I asked him, my heart racing. What was I doing??

I half turned my head to look at him out of the corner of my eye, and I saw a little smile on his lips.

He turned his head a little to contemplate me with mild amusement. Then he turned away again just as we stopped at the fifth floor. The doors slid open, and two men got in, laughing about some TV series or movie. They stood in front of us talking away but I didn't take in anything they said. For me, it was as if there was a pregnant silence between me and Benjamin. Would he answer my question?

Probably best that he didn't, I reflected. I should have ignored his comment completely.

The men got out on the third floor, and once again it was the two of us. I knew our time in the lift was nearly over, and I found myself wishing that we had longer. I wanted to know his answer, but he just stood there, inscrutable.

And then finally he spoke.

"Because," he said, turning to look at me again and casting his eyes up and down my body as if he was unimpressed, "I think that clients respond better to women in skirts and dresses."

"Oh," I said, raising my eyebrows. "So... are you asking me to wear skirts and dresses?"

I was still blushing, but I felt excited and reckless.

"Jen, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to tell you what to wear. I'm simply making an observation that might help you."

"Well, thank you," I replied, with a hint of flirtatiousness - although I couldn't for the world decide whether he was flirting with me or simply being as bluntly matter of fact as he appeared.

We arrived at the ground floor, and as we exited into the foyer, through the group of people waiting for the lift, he said:

"So I'd like to review your brief this evening. Can you have it ready by close of business?"

"Yes, I think so," I said, pleased that I'd be able to meet his expectations.

But his reply was less than impressed: "You think so?" he queried.

"Oh, well no, I mean that I will."

We were now emerging onto the street and he was getting his mobile phone out and evidently planning to stop there and make a call.

"Good," he replied briskly. "And make sure you've properly checked it this time. I'm sure you don't want a repeat of yesterday - and I'm sure your husband doesn't either?"

Believing that our chat was ending, I was already beginning to turn and walk away, blushing at what he'd just said - but suddenly I realised he was looking at me, his phone ignored in his hand while he waited for a response from me.

I blinked. We were surrounded by people walking past us, some of them colleagues going in or out of the building. It was just such an unexpected thing for him to suddenly say that I couldn't think how to reply.

"He doesn't know about it," I blurted out.

He frowned slightly. "Oh? Whyever not?"

I felt puzzled. Somehow I'd assumed that Benjamin would have wanted what happened to remain a secret. It was, after all, sexual harassment.

"Well because... I suppose I thought he wouldn't approve."

"Of your behaviour, or my method of dealing with it?"

I hesitated. "Both I suppose."

Still frowning, he looked at me thoughtfully. Then he said: "Give me your husband's number please. Since he disciplines you at home, he should be made aware of punishments you receive in work."

My heart stopped.

I glanced nervously around at the passers-by, but no-one appeared to have heard what he'd just said.

"I... No, I... I'd rather tell him myself. Please."

I felt like a naughty child again.

He looked at me for a moment longer, and glanced at his watch. "Come and see me this afternoon Jen. Six o'clock."

Again, I was completely thrown. Come and see him? Why?

Just a few moments ago I'd been feeling a bit flirty and excited, but now I was extremely nervous. What was going on?

And six o'clock wasn't the afternoon. I always left at 5:30, but I didn't say that. Besides, he was already shifting his attention to his phone, finding the person he wanted to call. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.

"Okay," I said simply, but he didn't acknowledge me further. His phone was against his ear, and so I took a step back, uncertain whether to even say goodbye, and then turned and walked quickly down the pavement to the deli, my mind racing.

--

"That's okay baby," Stephen said on the phone as I walked back with the brown paper bag containing my lunch in the other hand, smiling weakly at one of my workmates as she went past. He added: "To be honest, a couple of the guys are going for a beer after work, so maybe I'll join them. Just call me when you're done and maybe we can go grab something to eat?"

Stephen only worked half a mile away, so it sounded like a sensible plan. Except that I had literally no idea what was going to happen in Benjamin's office.

After ringing off, I paused for a moment before re-entering the building, forcing myself to breathe steadily, composing myself.

I just needed to go and see Benjamin at 6 and have a sensible conversation where I explained that actually I wasn't going to tell my husband, but what had happened must never happen again. I needed to be firm. Professional.

Enough of this nonsense - it was stupid, and dangerous. I was a strong woman, good at my job, happily married. Benjamin had no grounds or justification to sack me, and if he did I would make a formal complaint about what he'd done to me and he knew it.

I think people tutted at me blocking the pavement as they walked past me, but I was lost in my little pep talk to myself.

What had happened yesterday was completely inappropriate. If he had a problem with my work, then it needed to be dealt with properly. In fact, I should make sure I always had someone with me when I met with him. Yes, that would make total sense. I could ask Phil. Or Angela.

I nodded. Deep breath. Good. I would nip this in the bud.

I set off walking again, striding into the building with my head held high. There was no sign of Benjamin thank goodness. I would have the afternoon to work on the brief, and prepare myself for what I was going to say.

--

At six o'clock sharp, I rapped on the heavy wooden door.

The building was very very quiet. Almost no one stayed on after 5:30 - only some of the juniors on floor 6, and occasionally one of the most senior partners up on 10th. But today was Friday, and I was certain that there would be no one there except for the two of us.

At first I thought that Benjamin himself might have forgotten and gone home, but then suddenly his door opened. He was evidently on a call on his mobile phone, beckoning me in curtly and walking over to the window.

He wasn't wearing his jacket, and he'd taken off his tie. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his strong hairy forearms.

In his powerful cleanly shaven jaw I saw muscles clenching. Something that was being said on the other end of the phone was displeasing him.

He looked insanely attractive.

I stood there patiently waiting, and he completely ignored me.

He said nothing at all on the phone call, but I could hear the tinny sound of different voices disagreeing with each other.

And then eventually he spoke to whoever they were, and I was impressed by the decisive and directive way he closed the conversation and assigned actions to people.

When finally he was done with the call, he tossed the phone onto his desk and immediately turned his attention to me, beckoning me to come to where he stood.

I complied instinctively, and under his gaze I felt my bravery and resolve melting away.

"Okay Jen," he said, immediately getting down to business. "Take off your trousers."

Whatever it was I'd been expecting, it wasn't that.

I just stared at him dumbfounded.

"Why?" I asked, without a hint of impertinence - just simply confused. There could be no explanation for this - no justification whatsoever.

"Because I've already told you my feelings on trousers. And because I'm willing to bet that you're wearing knickers today, so it's not even like you'll be exposing anything to me that you haven't already. So, trousers off. Now please."

He was impatient, as if this was a prerequisite to getting on with the main purpose of our conversation.

"I'm... meeting my husband for a meal in a little while."

"Good. Then let's crack on shall we? Don't make me ask again."

"But what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to ask you some questions."

"Questions? I mean, what sort of questions?"

"Stop wasting my time Jen. Remove your trousers and lay them over the back of the chair. The sooner we get on with this, the sooner we can both go and enjoy our weekends."

His tone of voice sounded like his patience was wearing thin, and I found myself suddenly hastening to appease him. I undid my trousers, and slid them down without any further protest. Then of course I realised that I needed to take my shoes off, so with my trousers halfway down, I hopped about on one foot while I did so.

I folded the trousers neatly in half and laid them carefully over the chair-back, standing back and looking anxiously to see his reaction, my hands folded in front of me to try to cover my very small pink knickers.

How was this happening when I'd been so adamant that I was going to stand up to him? How was I now stood here with my bare feet padding nervously on the carpet like a submissive and naughty girl, wearing nothing but a little G-string on my lower half?

"Okay good," he nodded. "Now we need to establish what the situation is, because I'm not happy about your behaviour."

My stomach flipped at the way he was talking to me, and I felt a heat start to grow in my pussy.

He went on: "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer truthfully. Okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, in a small voice.

"Okay sir," he said at once, with a warning in his voice.

"Okay sir," I said, my heart pounding. My pussy was getting wet now, purely from the way he was talking to me. No one had ever made me call them sir before, except my teachers in school.

"Good girl. Now, first question: Were you sexually excited by me spanking you yesterday?"

I felt panic rising up in me now, adding to the cocktail of crazy arousal, and submissive longing.

If I hadn't been half undressed, I don't think I would have so easily entered this acquiescent state that made me simply obey him and answer such an intrusive and outrageous question.

"Yes," I said, looking down at the floor. I tried to focus on things to make this experience easier to manage. Easier to manage in terms of the level of my horniness and submissiveness. I needed to retain some control.

I looked at his shiny shoes. He had large feet. The grey carpet, rough underfoot, had little flecks of colour that I hadn't noticed before.

Since there was no reply from him, I glanced up to gauge his expression. He was frowning at me.

"And do you think that's appropriate for a workplace setting, in a well respected law firm?"

"No," I replied meekly, looking down again. "Sir."

"No. You're right it isn't. For every answer that disappoints me, you will lose an item of clothing, do you understand?"

I gasped, looking at him wide eyed. "What?"

"Take off your blouse," he said.

I tried to stammer a response, but I couldn't find any words at all. My fingers went straight to the little buttons and started to undo them.

I had no plan. No ideas on how to stop this from happening, so all I could do was obey.

My mind was in turmoil. Part of me wanted this. Part of me was terrified.

I took off my little shirt and laid it over the back of the chair, feeling thankful that I'd worn underwear today, or else I would now be completely naked.

But what if I got the next question wrong? My breathing was shaky as I stood upright again, my hands covering my crotch once more.

"Hands by your side Jen," he told me, and I did as I was told, acutely aware of how tiny the little triangle of material that constituted the front of my knickers was.

He looked directly at it dispassionately. And then his eyes looked my whole body up and down.

"Have you thought about me sexually?" was the next question, delivered matter of factly, but hitting me like a punch in the gut.

I closed my eyes, feeling the colour rise in my face even more.

The room was utterly silent. The building was silent. Perhaps it was just me and him in the whole building.

I heard a siren from outside in the distance, but otherwise the noises from the street were inaudible through the triple glazed windows.

I opened my eyes again and looked at him. He was implacable. Completely in control. Dashing in his suit trousers and shirt, lit by the warm sun low in the sky.

I looked down at my own nearly naked body bathed in the same light. I knew I had a perfect figure, and yet Benjamin seemed immune.

He showed no sign of enjoyment at all - he was simply dealing with an errant employee and setting her straight. Putting her in her place and showing her the error of her ways.

"Yes," I admitted. "Yes sir."

I lowered my gaze in shame.

There was a pause, and then he said: "Sexual thoughts about your manager - your superior - in a work setting. Do you think that is acceptable?"

"No sir."

"I agree." He sighed. "Take off your bra and give it to me. You are going to need to be taught a lesson."

I fought to control my breathing and stay calm. Despite baring my body in public in the past, this was a hundred times more humiliating.

And a hundred times more erotic, in ways that I couldn't begin to explain.

Without any protest, I unclipped my bra and slipped it off. Because he was a couple of metres away from me, I had to step towards him and lean forwards to hold it out to him, conscious of my breasts swaying a little. He didn't take it at first, leaving me in that position, but as soon as he did I moved back to where I'd been before, instinctively covering my breasts with my left arm, and then remembering and forcing myself to leave them uncovered.

He was looking at my bare breasts now, and I felt my nipples harden simply from his gaze. I felt so vulnerable and exposed - him fully clothed, and me in just my ridiculously small knickers.

He folded my lacy pink bra in half, and strode over to his desk, pulled open a drawer, put my bra into it and slid it shut. Then he sat in his chair and reclined, his hands behind his head, looking at me thoughtfully from the other side of the desk.

"I'm confiscating your bra. You'll bring your other ones in on Monday, and they can go into my drawer as well. No bras for the next week, as punishment. Got it?"

"Yes sir," I said, utterly astonished.

"Last question."

I braced myself. What humiliating thing was he going to make me admit now?

"Are you going to tell your husband about all this, tonight?"

I hesitated. My instinct was that I absolutely would not be telling him. He would be so angry and upset that I couldn't bear the thought of it.

But... Benjamin had been very clear that I should tell him. So even though I privately told myself that I wouldn't, I said: "Yes. I will."

"Good girl," he nodded. "That's the first answer that hasn't disappointed me. For that I will let you keep your knickers on while I spank you."

An icy chill went through me that was half shock and half intense sexual excitement. God my pussy was so wet. Insubstantial as they were, I was grateful to be keeping my knickers on.

"Okay come here," he said, tilting his head to indicate that I was to walk around the large desk to where he was sat.

Feeling very self conscious, I did so. Walking while you're naked - or nearly naked - is different to walking when you have clothes on. Especially when you're the only one naked.

He sat upright in his chair as I approached, and then looking at me, he patted his lap.

Blushing furiously, I turned and sat on his lap, as if he was Santa Claus and I was a little girl about to ask him for the present I wanted. In this case, a spanking.

But he barked sternly: "No, get over my knee to be spanked."

Flustered, I got up, stammering an apology, and in a hurry to placate him, I quickly leaned forward over this man's lap until my hands were on the floor, my feet on tiptoe, and my bottom raised up ready to accept what was coming to me - which might be harsher now that I'd angered him.

His thighs were muscular - I could feel his quads flexing as he shifted his position in his chair a little. It felt uncomfortably intimate to be touching his body like this, and absolutely humiliating to be in this position in just a skimpy G-string.

"Raise your bottom up higher," he instructed, so I arched my back to lift it a little more.

"No. Higher than that," he said.

I wasn't sure that I could, but by extending my toes a little more, and really pushing myself to bend my body how he wanted it, I managed to thrust my bottom higher still.

"Good, much better. Hold that position," he said.

I was terribly uncomfortable and not at all sure that I'd be able to hold it for long, but I said: "Yes sir."

"Now then," he said, "Why am I punishing you?"

"Because..." my mind was in overdrive. What were the reasons again? Why was I here in this position? "Because I was sexually excited by you spanking me."

"Yes," he said, and without warning, his hand came down hard on my bottom in a hard smack that took my breath away and made me squeal.

"And?"

I did my best to control my breathing as I said: "Because... I thought about you," I confessed, in a very small voice.

"Yes," he agreed. And then he smacked my bottom three times, in quick succession, hard enough to make me cry out again.

"And," he added, spanking me between every few words. "Most of all" SMACK "because you haven't" SMACK "told your husband" SMACK "about the serious matter" SMACK "of you earning a spanking" SMACK "from your manager" SMACK "on only your second day working for him!" SMACK SMACK SMACK

The stinging was building up faster than it receded, and my bottom was hurting a lot now - but I knew that I had a long way to go, and I was scared.

And also desperately excited.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

He was alternating sides as he punished my poor bottom, although his powerful hand was big enough to encompass most of my bottom.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

And then suddenly he stopped.

"Get up," he told me.

Surprised that the punishment had ended so suddenly, I did as I was told, awkwardly shuffling back off his lap and managing to find my feet. My back ached from maintaining the uncomfortable position, and my bottom was ablaze.

Benjamin certainly kept my mind in turmoil. I was experiencing the conflicting feelings of immense relief that my punishment was over, and equal amounts of disappointment.

I realised that I wanted to be dominated by this man completely.

I got my wish.

"Jen I've changed my mind about the knickers. I don't think you should be allowed them."

"Oh," I gasped, frozen for a moment until I realised he was waiting for me to take them off.

As I tucked my thumbs under the thin elasticated straps on my hips, and peeled them down, I felt more naked than I'd ever felt in my life, as my one remaining scrap of clothing was denied me.

The little G-string dropped uselessly onto the carpet, and no sooner had they landed there than Benjamin had taken my wrist and was pulling me unceremoniously over his lap again, and he began to spank me again with gusto.

Even though the G-string had afforded no protection whatsoever, somehow my spanking seemed all the more painful now, and I felt all the more exposed.

He stopped briefly, to take a fistful of my hair and pull my head back.

"I told you to raise your bottom up," he said sternly.

I couldn't even find the words to apologise as I assumed the difficult pose again so that my bottom was presented to him how he wanted, and he immediately resumed my punishment. He didn't let go of my hair, so my head was still pulled back.

Luckily I am very flexible from years of gymnastics when I was younger, so my body was able to be as pliant as he needed it to be.

I realised that my insanely wet pussy was exposed to him, and this humiliation turned me on all the more.

I felt 100% submissive to him. He couldn't have owned me more fully in that moment, and I just wanted more and more, even as the pain in my bottom became more and more unbearable.

I think I was crying out loudly, but he didn't put anything in my mouth. The empty building meant that he could do what he liked to me, and no one would know. My clothes were in various places around his office - I was absolutely naked over this powerful man's knee and actually being spanked on my bare bottom. Hard.

It was all so powerfully arousing that I didn't know what to do with myself.

Eventually, he slowed down, the gaps between the slaps getting longer and longer, and the slaps less and less hard, until finally he stopped, his hand remaining flat on my bottom. Not moving - no caressing as Stephen would have done. Just still, covering my bottom as if protecting my modesty from someone.

And then, fleetingly, his fingers slid between my buttocks and ran briefly down to my pussy, and withdrew. It took only a second, but his fingertips had slipped between my pussy lips into the slick wetness that was there, and that tiny instant of pleasure was so intense that I cried out with longing.

But he didn't touch me again. It might have been accidental, I couldn't know for certain. He did nothing and said nothing, and so I was left, consumed with sexual need, slowly writhing on his lap, my bottom on fire from my harsh spanking.

And that's when I realised that I could feel his cock. With my hips raised as far as they had been, I hadn't been making contact with that part of him, but as I now squirmed slowly in a desperate state of unfulfilled horniness, I felt it pressing against my tummy, close to my pubis, and it felt like it was extremely large.

"Stand up," he instructed.

Again, I struggled to my feet and stood before him, contrite, consumed with sexual desire, and completely nude.

He regarded me calmly. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes sir," I said, touching my bottom and marvelling at how much heat it was giving off.

"Good. Put your trousers and top back on, and I'll see you on Monday."

I had no words. I couldn't quite believe I was being dismissed so summarily when I was in such a state. I'd just lost all control, and I was still lost in sexual frustration and submissiveness.

He had humiliated me and owned me and punished me, and now I was being sent on my way.

Without any underwear.

I realised that I would instantly put a wet patch in my trousers if I pulled them on now without knickers, but somehow I felt that I wasn't allowed to pick them up.

"Please may I use one of your tissues?" I asked him.

"No," he replied curtly. "You may go to the Ladies down the corridor before you get dressed."

I blinked as I took this in, and then hesitantly, in a bit of a daze, I turned and walked towards the door of his office.

I glanced at him over my shoulder and saw that he was watching me - specifically looking at my arse.

I've always been told that my arse is my best feature. But then I've been told that about other parts of me as well.

I knew that my bottom would be looking extremely sexy right now though, and I must confess that I did add just a little extra sway to my walk to emphasise it.

Opening his office door and stepping out into the corridor was nerve racking. I checked right and left first, before making my way quickly down the carpeted corridor to the restrooms.

I felt even more naked in there than I had in the corridor. Perhaps because of the mirrors, or the cold tiles underfoot, or perhaps because it felt like someone might walk in at any moment.

I can't really describe how it feels to be completely naked in your place of work, with a soundly spanked bottom. But I felt very much in my subspace. It was both scary and sexually exciting beyond belief.

When I came back into his office a few minutes later, having sorted myself out a little, I found him typing on his computer. He didn't look up.

In fact he ignored me completely as I pulled on my trousers without my knickers - again, I just assumed that I wasn't allowed them, and I wondered if they were still lying there on the floor - and did up my blouse with no bra underneath, and put on my shoes.

Only when I was fully dressed did he turn to me.

"Okay Jen, what are you going to do this evening?"

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. It wasn't just pleasantries - he was checking that I'd remembered his instruction. "I'm going to tell my husband," I said.

"And what will you bring to work on Monday morning?"

"Oh... yes. All my bras," I said, my stomach flipping.

"Good. I'll see you then. Oh, and..."

He slid open the top drawer of his desk, and handed me a business card. "Give this to your husband in case he wants to discuss anything with me."

"Thank you," I said, taking it and slipping it into my pocket. "And, thank you for... disciplining me," I added.

He nodded. "Have a good evening," he said, in the first act of normal politeness I think I'd ever had from him.

"And you. Sir," I added, and I turned and left.

--

Stephen had clearly already had a couple of drinks by the time we met outside our favourite little restaurant. He'd got there first, and I could see it in his eyes as he watched me walk towards him.

I wondered uneasily if he could somehow see what I'd just been up to. Did I have a guilty look about me? Would he notice how my breasts swayed under my blouse and wonder why I wasn't wearing a bra?

But he was completely normal with me as he drew me to him for a quick kiss.

"How was your meeting?" he asked. "What did the slave driver want you to stay late for that was so important?"

"Oh, just a setback in the Fellowes case," I replied casually. "All sorted now I think."

But I realised that I couldn't make eye contact, lying to him like that.

"Shall we go in?" I added, perhaps a bit hastily.

--

We had a lovely meal, and Stephen talked about some of the goings on in his work while I half listened.

It was impossible to think of anything other than what had just happened to me, and I was awash with the same mixture of emotions as I had been the evening before - lust, anxiety, longing, guilt...

It already seemed utterly surreal what had happened less than an hour ago - like something imaginary. Or a different plane of reality. It was impossible to reconcile it with this normal scene; my husband chatting about his day, sipping wine and contemplating the dessert menu.

"Stephen," I blurted out, interrupting him. "I have something I need to tell you."

I surprised myself. I hadn't known that I was going to confess to him, but I suppose the feeling of wrongness was too strong.

He stopped talking instantly and just waited for me to speak. He didn't seem surprised by my outburst.

As I hesitated, unable to think where to begin, glancing around me nervously, he prompted: "Jen, tell me. I know something's up - you haven't been right since that O'Reilly guy started. Has he done something?"

He didn't look worried or angry or anything like that. He just had the expression he wore when he was listening intently - receptive and attuned; ready to understand, and then to resolve whatever needed resolving. There was no hint of his earlier tipsiness. He was sober and focused, waiting for me to tell him what I needed to tell him.

And so I found myself recounting it all. Starting from the very first meeting, his interrogation of my cases, the way he made me feel intimidated and unsure of myself. The second meeting, and how I'd accidentally exposed the backs of my legs to him.

I saw his eyes darken as I went on, but he didn't speak.

He listened to me recount how Benjamin had spanked me over his desk, and Stephen's expression was inscrutable. But, terrified as I was of what his reaction would be when it came, I just went on. A torrent of words now as I described every detail. How I'd lied to him about being unwell. My feelings of guilt. And the events of today - my good intentions crumbling in an instant, and instead ending up completely and utterly naked, over his knee.

The hardest part to tell him was the questions that Benjamin had asked me, and my answers. I saw Stephen's shock at that, even though to most people his poker face would have appeared inert.

And then finally my sorry story was done, and a terrible silence fell.

My stomach was a knot. I felt on the edge of tears. Not because of what I'd been through, but because I had liked it. Because I had just admitted to my wonderful perfect husband that I had been unfaithful.

He just looked at me, absorbing the extraordinary things I'd just confessed, and I found it unbearable. I needed him to say something. Anything.

And then I remembered the business card in my pocket.

Miserably, I got it out and laid it on the table.

"He said that I should give you this in case you wanted to talk to him."

He looked down at it, and then back at me.

"Oh I want to talk to him all right," he said, in a strange and scary voice that was terrifying in its lack of emotion.

He snapped his fingers at a waitress, who came quickly over. "The bill please," he told her.

--

The journey home was awful. Stephen had said nothing to me at all as we left the restaurant, and he was still silent and emotionless as we sat in the back of the taxi. No questions. No remonstrations. No recriminations. Nothing.

I was racked with fear that he was going to leave me, and filled to the brim with self-loathing.

I couldn't even bring myself to break this agonising silence. I was paralysed, for fear of unleashing whatever was to come.

We went into our house. Our house that we'd bought together, that we'd made beautiful together, and he hung up his jacket and went through into our open plan kitchen that we'd had built, flicked on the lights and sat at one of the dining chairs, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the floor, off to the side.

He was such an attractive man. Better looking than Benjamin. My mind registered Stephen's well toned shoulders and arms, his power and charisma, his intelligent well chiselled face, and I felt almost like we were in a scene in a movie. It helped - that dissociation from the reality of things.

Finally he spoke.

"Come here." He gestured with a flick of his hand, still not looking at me. He was angry.

I walked to him, but with a slight inflection of his hand he made me stop a short distance away from him.

"Okay Jen, I have some questions for you now," he said, looking up into my face. I was welling up, but he paid that no attention whatsoever.

"Okay," I said. The significance of this questioning wasn't lost on me - an echo of the scene in Benjamin's office.

"Tell me how you feel about him."

My throat went dry. I took a moment to search my soul. I wanted to be as truthful as I could.

"I don't like him at all," I answered. "He's condescending and patronising and bullying. Rude. Demanding. Arrogant. And he intimidates me - he makes me stumble over my words and feel like... a naughty little girl."

I could see that Stephen knew I was telling the truth. But he also knew there was more.

"And?"

I hesitated. "Well, he's so authoritative. And even though I didn't invite it at all - I swear - he pushes my submissive buttons I suppose."

Stephen said nothing to this. He simply waited for me to keep talking.

"And... yes, I do find him attractive. Not as attractive as you. And I'm not just saying that. You make me melt. But... I'm afraid I did have my head turned a bit."

Stephen's silent interrogation continued. The more he remained quiet, the more I blabbed. I went on:

"Okay you're right. Quite a lot. What happened was scary, but also exciting. But, oh Stephen, I felt so guilty not telling you but I was so afraid you'd be hurt and angry and it would spoil everything and I told myself it was a one-off because I'd made some sloppy mistakes in my work and it would never happen again and I'd just be able to put it behind me but that hasn't happened and I don't know what to do and I'm so fucking scared that you hate me now and I've ruined the trust between us and I've ruined the best thing that ever happened to me."

And at this point I remember I drew a long anguished breath, and began to sob uncontrollably.

Stephen didn't move to comfort me. And still he remained silent.

But his voice was softer when he spoke.

"Here's how we're going to start making this right. For everything honest and true that you admit to me, I want you to take off an item of clothing. And when we're done, you'll have shed all your clothes and be naked in front of me so I can see the true you - giving yourself to me, and promising that you'll never ever deceive me again. And we will throw these clothes in the bin, and we'll be rid of them. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes," I wailed, crying so much I didn't think I would ever stop.

"Trousers off," he told me.

I did as I was told, pulling them off and handing them to him, completely naked from the waist down.

I was glad I'd told him about how my knickers and bra were still in his office, because otherwise this would have been another surprise, and I knew that there must be no more surprises. I needed to do what Stephen said, which was tell him absolutely everything and be 100% honest with him always and forever if I wanted to keep him.

He dropped my trousers in a crumpled heap on the floor next to him and surveyed me. I could barely see him through the tears which had welled up in my eyes.

I feel quite emotional looking back on it even now.

"Do you want to have sex with him?" he asked.

Again I paused, trying to discover the true answer to this within me. "No. I did think about how dominant he would be during sex, and I liked the thought of that. But no, I don't have any desire to have sex with him."

Stephen looked at me, frowning, trying to determine whether I was being truly honest. My stomach was a knot of tension.

"Okay," he said at last. "Then take off your blouse Jen."

Gratefully, I unbuttoned it for the second time that day, and passed it to him, to join the trousers on the floor beside him.

I was fully naked for him now.

"How can I be sure that you won't lie to me again?" he asked.

This was an impossible question. I couldn't think of any way of proving it to him, but I said: "Stephen, I love you so so much. You are the one for me - my perfect friend and lover. My husband. My owner. You have to believe me when I say that I was adamant that I was going to put a stop to it this evening - but... he has this power over me."

I stopped, swallowing the lump in my throat. Stephen waited patiently for me to go on.

"I... I can't promise that I can stand up to him, because I don't seem to be able to do it. But I can promise that for the rest of my life I will tell you everything. I won't keep anything from you. And I know I can keep that promise because I've seen this evening how close I could have come to losing you."

I felt so vulnerable, naked on that kitchen floor in front of him. I was stripped bare in every sense, truly exposing not just my body but my soul.

"I believe you," he said. "I didn't think I would, but I do."

"Thank you," I said, giving him a wobbly smile.

"I've got one more question Jen. I need to know this. Me dominating you. Owning you. You've made me feel like that's not special any more. When you told me about Benjamin tonight, it felt like any guy could just come along and treat you like that and you'd roll over and play the submissive."

I felt stung. My heart physically hurt to hear him say that, and I started to cry again.

"Oh Stephen, I'm so so sorry. I couldn't help it. I just didn't seem to have the ability to defy him - and it's true that after a while I just gave in. I seem to be a submissive through and through. But only you are my owner. And... I have to be 100% truthful... it did excite me. It turned me on, despite the awfulness of it, and the guilt, and everything else."

Stephen's face was twisted into a grimace.

"Oh but Stephen, I promise you that I was always yours. You are my owner. No matter what he did to me, I never for a moment stopped being yours."

I closed my eyes and sobbed my heart out, because it was unbearable to me that I'd made him feel like that.

And then the next thing I knew, I was wrapped up in his strong arms, being held against him, enveloped by him, in the biggest warmest hug I'd ever had. And I melted into him and cried and cried until I was spent and I could cry no more.

Only then did he pull back from me a little so that he could look into my eyes, and he tenderly moved a strand of hair from where it was stuck to my wet cheek, and tucked it over my ear, caressing the side of my head.

And then he kissed my mouth softly and tenderly, before wrapping me up in his arms again.

"I am yours," I breathed. "I always will be."

I felt that we were going to be okay, and in place of my misery and self loathing I now felt a flood of love through my whole body. And a strong desire to give myself to him.

I have always loved the feeling of being naked in his arms while he's fully clothed, and never more so than in this moment. I wanted to do whatever it took to atone; to make things right between us.

He withdrew from me, and taking my hand, led me to the dining chair.

"Step up onto it," he told me, still holding my hand, to help me balance.

I did as I was told - confused, but compliant. I would have done literally anything for him.

Once on the chair, my breasts were level with his face, and he ran his hand up my side and cupped one of them, briefly thumbing at my hard nipple.

But then he said, "Now onto the table."

And once again he held my hand as I stepped onto the dining table. It felt very strange to be up so high, with him below me. But his face was now level with my hips, and I saw his gaze fall upon my pubis, tracing his fingers over the curve of my hip, and then down the gentle valley which led to my pussy, idly stroking the skin which I kept so smooth for him.

Between my legs, my pussy was so wet for him, and I let out a quiet moan at his touch, parting my legs just a little in the hope that his fingers would stray lower.

But instead, he gently held my hips and turned me round to face away from him.

He let out a quiet whistle. "Oh my goodness. He really did spank you hard didn't he."

I said nothing. I was too intent on relishing the sensation of his fingers now stroking my bottom, as he explored the reddened skin.

"You've spanked me harder," I told him.

"I know," he said. "But still. The man is bold - I'll give him that."

His fingers now moved up my back, following the curve of my spine. He always liked to touch me there.

"You do realise that I will need to punish you, don't you," he said.

My stomach lurched.

"Oh yes," I breathed, my heart exalting, even as my stomach tensed in dread. "I deserve it. I know I deserve it - more than any punishment you've ever given me."

"You do," he agreed, his hand now moving down to my stinging bottom again, and using his thumbs to explore the shape of my cleft. "I'm going to punish you every single day for a week. Starting tonight."

"Oh...." I gasped, my breathing shaky. I needed it. Whatever he had planned, I wanted it and needed it.

"Go upstairs and shower. Then once you're dry, get the handcuffs and the spreader bar. When I come upstairs I want to see you lying on your front on the bed, with three pillows under your hips, your legs spread wide attached to the bar, and your wrists handcuffed behind your back. Got it?"

"Yes," I replied meekly.

He helped me step down onto the chair and then onto the kitchen floor, until I was stood next to him, four inches shorter than him once more.

"Pick up your clothes," he said, and as I did, he added: "They need to go in the bin remember."

I went over to the kitchen bin and stuffed them into it, glad to see the back of them.

"Good. Now go and do what I said. I'm going to call Benjamin."

It felt like all the blood drained from me at these words.

"Oh god. What are you going to say?"

"I'm going to ask for his side of the story," he said calmly. And then I'm going to tell him my expectations of him, and you. Now go and do what you were told, and wait for me."

I was wide eyed with astonishment and fear. What on earth would Benjamin say? Would he claim a different version of events that contradicted mine? Would he say that I'd led him on, exposing my legs to him? Would it make Stephen angry again?

I desperately wanted to stay, and try to persuade him not to call. But I knew it would be no use, and so I anxiously left the room. As I climbed the stairs I was murmuring "oh god oh god oh god" under my breath.

--

It felt good to shower, even though I was stressed about what conversation might be happening downstairs. I could hear Stephen's voice. There was no shouting - just discussion - but I couldn't make out anything being said, even once I'd turned off the shower.

I got myself dry, and put my towel-dried hair into a rough plait, padding through into the bedroom and opened The Drawer.

It was a large wide drawer, big enough to hold all manner of things which we played with. But tonight was no play.

Still, as I got onto the bed, positioned the pillows, and buckled the black leather cuffs onto my ankles, I felt a stirring of arousal in my loins despite everything.

I extended the spreader bar to its widest setting - because I wanted to show just how contrite I was - and attached an ankle to each end. My legs were now uncomfortably wide as I sat there on the bed, and I briefly ran my fingers over my pussy. It felt so good.

God I hoped against hope that the conversation with Benjamin hadn't raked up something else for Stephen to feel hurt or angry about. I was hoping for a cathartic punishment, and then to be fucked. Hard. And that then we would cuddle up, and everything would feel okay. That was my wish for the evening.

I had no idea how long Stephen would be, so I made sure I was ready.

Awkwardly flipping onto my front, and positioning myself over the pillows, I cinched the handcuffs closed on my left wrist, and then put my hands behind my back and fumbled with the cold metal until I succeeded in cuffing my right wrist too.

And so now I was ready for him. My bottom raised high in the middle of the bed. My legs spread wide apart to expose my wet little pussy. My wrists handcuffed together behind me, completely incapacitating me.

I was absolutely at his mercy.

And to top it all off, my bottom was still stinging from Benjamin spanking me over his knee only a few hours earlier. I knew that my punishment was going to hurt a lot.

The side of my head was against the white sheets, leaving only one ear to try to hear what was going on downstairs. Still, I could hear Stephen talking. What on earth were they saying to each other? I burned with curiosity, and my heart was beating fast.

If Stephen was hearing things on the phone that made him angry, the first thing he would see when he came into the bedroom was me bound and naked, with my already-punished bottom right there facing him. He would be able to take out his anger on me straight away. I felt unbelievably vulnerable. I couldn't have been more exposed or helpless to protect myself from whatever he wanted to do to me to vent his frustration, or to punish me for what I'd done.

The minutes ticked by. It felt like an eternity - I have no idea really how long I was in that position.

But now I could no longer hear him talking, so had he rung off now? What was he doing? Was he going to come upstairs - or, worse, was he just going to leave me like this?

With difficulty, I turned my head to the other side so that I wouldn't get a crick in my neck. Since I had no way of lifting myself up with my hands cuffed behind me, this entailed rubbing my face across the sheet as I turned my head. I tried to shift my body a little to ease the discomfort of being in this uncomfortable pose for so long.

The room was very slightly cooler than I'd have liked, but the front of my body against the sheets and pillows was warm. The wetness of my pussy felt especially cool with the air circulating around it, and that emphasised the feeling of being exposed. Literally the most intimate and sensitive part of my body was on display to him, with no way to protect it.

And then I thought about being over Benjamin's knee. And how I was now naked again, and about to be spanked again.

The more I thought about that, the more aroused I became.

It felt so right that I should be treated this way.

And then suddenly I heard Stephen coming up the stairs, and my heart experienced a little jolt.

The door opened and in he came, my gorgeously handsome husband. Did he look angry? It was hard to tell with my restricted view.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his mobile down on the bedside table. He ran his fingers down my back, and over my bottom, and directly to my clitoris, which sent an electric shock of pleasure through me.

I let out a little moan, and my pussy throbbed in response. But his fingers were already travelling up my back.

"So your boss and I had a very interesting conversation," he said quietly. He didn't sound cross. If anything he seemed very relaxed, as his fingers began their second journey down my back.

"What did he say?" I asked, immediately letting out a little gasp as his fingers reached my clitoris again, which was swelling up hard now.

Back and forth his fingers went, from the nape of my neck to my clit and back. Over and over, casually repeating the same path at a leisurely pace as he spoke. My sexual desire was growing with each brief visit of his fingertips to my pussy.

"He told me all about the careless mistakes in your work," he said. "And he told me about seeing the red marks on the backs of your thighs, and thinking to himself that none of this was what he'd expected of an up and coming barrister like yourself.

He told me he felt duty bound to investigate further, and when he then found that you weren't wearing any knickers, he decided that he needed to discipline you. And I must say Jen - I completely agree with what he did."

Still his fingers travelled back and forth, and the building pleasure in my cunt was making it hard to focus on his words, but even so, what he was saying was making my stomach turn somersaults.

He went on: "Benjamin told me that he has frequently dealt with poor behaviour in this way. That young women often respond to it - but he only does it if she already receives that kind of punishment at home. Which in your case you clearly did."

I was wriggling my bottom slowly, trying to get some more stimulation on my pussy. I badly wanted to have his fingers inside me now.

"I told Benjamin that I appreciated him insisting that you told me. That was the thing for me - that you hadn't told me. And you know what Jen?"

He didn't wait for a response.

"I'm actually delighted that he punished you. I think you deserved it. And I think you need it when I'm not around. So he and I have reached an agreement."

"An agreement?" I echoed, feeling very apprehensive now, even though the exquisite torture of this sporadic clitoral teasing was taking up most of my headspace, and his endorsement of what had happened to me was terrifyingly arousing.

"Yes. He will message me whenever he has punished you, and explain your misdemeanour. That will give me time to think about how to best deal with you when you get home."

"Oh god," I groaned in a pleading tone. What did he mean by 'dealing with me' when I got home? Was he saying that he would spank me too, when I got in? Two spankings for everything I got wrong in work??

"Also," he continued calmly, and with a twinkle in his eye, "Whenever I've punished you, I'll let Benjamin know."

"Oh - but why?" I asked, dismayed. And also beginning to lose control a little at the incessant touching of my clitoris which was enough to drive me wild, but not ever quite enough to give me what I needed to orgasm.

"Because," he said, taking his hand away now, and giving my pussy a light slap instead, which made me jump, and gasp in surprise. "As your manager I feel he should know that you might not be at your best - so he should be extra vigilant for any distractedness or carelessness in your work."

"Oh god," I groaned again. And it was half dread, and half arousal.

"I think it'll be good for you," he said, swatting my pussy again, and eliciting the same response. "Oh, and I agreed with him that you should bring all your bras in on Monday and he'll keep them for the week as punishment. I told him that for my part, I would confiscate your knickers as punishment."

Another little slap on my pussy, and my body instinctively responded by trying to close my legs to protect itself - but of course I couldn't.

"But..." I began.

"But what?" he prompted, giving another short sharp little tap, right on my clitoris.

"But..." I said again, trying to gather enough composure to keep my thoughts straight. "He punished me for not wearing knickers!"

"I know," he sympathised. "It doesn't seem very fair does it? Me telling him that you're having your knickers confiscated for the week. Plus, I think you told me in the restaurant that he wants you in skirts and dresses. Is that right?"

"Yes," I whimpered.

"Well then you'll have to be on your absolute best behaviour if you're going to avoid going over his knee again. No bending over desks and exposing yourself to him!"

Oh I was so turned on. And so in shock. How was this happening? The two of them conspiring to dominate me both in work and at home. It felt like Stephen was actively encouraging Benjamin to strip me and spank me whenever he wanted to.

"But, I don't understand," I whined plaintively. "I thought you were upset at him punishing me?"

He chuckled softly. "No, you silly girl. I was never upset about that. I like the thought that you're being taken in hand. No, I was upset that you'd lied to me and kept things from me. And that's why this week is going to be a difficult one for you - because you need to be properly punished for that, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," I said. "I do need to be properly punished. But..."

"No more buts!" he commented, and swatted my pussy again.

"Oh god. Oh god," I groaned, abandoning my protest. "Please touch me," I begged him. I needed it so much.

"I am," he said, slapping my pussy again. You could hear from the sound it made how wet I was.

Every time he did it, my whole body jolted in shock. I strained at my handcuffs to cover myself, but it was hopeless.

"And now Jen it's time for tonight's punishment," he said as he stood up and opened the drawer. I watched as he reached to the back, and drew out the cane.

Cold dread flooded through my veins at the sight of it.

"Oh Stephen, no please," I begged.

He had only caned me twice before. They were by far the most painful punishments I'd ever received. There was nothing to compare with it.

Although it was true that the fear of it elicited extraordinary levels of arousal in me, right now the dread was winning because my bottom was already sore and stinging. Surely he couldn't be serious about now using that on me??

He laid it on my body, resting it lengthways so that it lay against my cuffed wrists, and in the cleft of my bottom.

Then he stood up again and took the ball gag from the drawer. He knew how much I hated it. But nonetheless, he inserted it into my mouth and buckled it at the back of my head so that there was no way for me to spit it out.

I remembered when he'd bought it for me. He'd bought three sizes actually, but he almost always used the biggest. The one I found most difficult because it forced my jaw open the most, and it filled my mouth so much.

"Let's begin shall we?" he said, picking up the cane from off me, and running the tip of it up the back of my thigh, letting it land on my pussy, making me gasp.

Lying over the pillows as I was, my bottom raised up, and my pussy so wet, he could easily now slide the nobbled cane up inside me, and as he circled my tight little opening with it, I actually thought that he would. But instead he stopped, lifted it a short way above my bottom, and then hit me with it.

Oh god. I heard the swish of it through the air just an instant before it struck my soft bottom with a stripe of biting pain, and then the delicious afterburn.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh," I groaned through the gag, wiggling my bottom from side to side in a pointless attempt to get rid of the burn.

"How many times?" I tried to ask, although my full mouth meant that it sounded like "Ah Ah-nee Aaai?". Previously he'd always told me, and it helped me to get through it. Ten was the most he'd given me.

"You want to know how many times?" he asked, chuckling. "Twenty,"

"Oh oh eeeeez," I pleaded.

But all he said was: "Number 2 now." and he raised the cane again.

There was the swishing sound again, and I tensed every muscle in my body for impact.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh," I cried out as the cane lashed my bottom, low down where it met my thighs, and my body jolted in response. My pussy had received the blow as well, although cushioned by the flesh of my bottom, and it stung now too.

He ran the cane gently over the curve of my bottom, as the afterburn grew in intensity.

"I've sent Benjamin a follow up email," he told me.

And then the cane came down again, lashing me even harder than the last strike, and in almost exactly the same place. I howled and writhed, but he just calmly carried on speaking:

"I've given him my formal consent to punish you however, and whenever he sees fit."

There was silence for a few moments. He said nothing, and did nothing, and the only sound was my shaky breathing.

It was awful not knowing when the next strike was going to happen. My body kept tensing in anticipation, but it was impossible to know, and my heart was beating so fast.

And then suddenly: swiiiiiiish, CRACK!! - the cane bit into my poor bottom, half way up, where most of Benjamin's attention had been focused.

I let out a long keening sound as I rode out the pain, waiting for the worst of it to subside.

"I think it's good that now there's someone to keep you in check while you're in work. I trust him to do a good job of it."

The cane swished again, and my body tensed for impact, but it didn't come. He was teasing me. I heard a little chuckle at the way I'd flinched.

He did the same again, and again my body reacted, but the cane didn't touch me.

A third time. He was really fucking with me.

The effect was that when he did then lash me with it, I wasn't as prepared, and the shock was greater.

"Oh oh oh oh oh," I breathed, after my initial yelp, as I absorbed the deep stinging sensation, trying to keep calm.

But then he hit me again in the same spot - he was expert at lining up the cane to hit on the exact same place that was already burning with pain, and this was almost unbearable.

I lifted up my feet, which were of course attached to the spreader bar, but he pushed them back down.

"Lift up your bottom. You're relaxing down on the pillows too much," he told me.

I did as I was told, raising my poor bottom up to receive more from the merciless cane.

"Good girl. That's 6 now. Ready for number 7?"

He didn't wait for a reply, whipping me with it again, right at the point where my bottom met my thighs, and even as I howled I was thinking how sore that one was going to be when I was walking.

"So," he went on, "Do you want me to read you my email to Benjamin?"

I heard him pick up his mobile phone, and a clicking sound as he unlocked it.

"Hi Benjamin, thanks again for taking my call. It was a very helpful conversation."

The cane came down again. The sound of its approach was always too brief to properly prepare for it. But it wasn't such a hard strike as the previous ones - that one was more shock than pain.

"As we discussed, Jennifer is a submissive and very much benefits from a strong hand to keep her behaviour in check and to help her develop and grow."

He lashed me again, and again it wasn't quite as vicious. He was doing it a little carelessly. It struck me at an angle, which is very unlike Stephen. He likes the stripes to be nice and parallel across my bottom.

The tip of the cane stung a lot though, where it bit into my right cheek.

"As her husband, I discipline her at home as you know. With this email I'm hereby requesting that you be responsible for disciplining her at work."

The next hit of the cane was the most painful so far - or perhaps it was just that I'd got used to the slightly softer ones. But either way, as it struck my badly stinging bottom, the whipping stinging pain felt more than I could endure, and I bucked and writhed in response, crying out through my ball-gag.

He paid me no heed, but just kept reading.

"Hopefully our chat was useful for you, to help understand the punishment techniques that I find most effective, but if there's anything else you want to know please don't hesitate to contact me. It would be enormously beneficial to keep in close contact, so that we can most effectively keep Jennifer in line."

Swiiiiiish WHACK!!

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

This one was just as bad, just a fraction of a centimetre higher than the last, and catching my pussy lips again.

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh," I whimpered as the pain set in, growing more and more intense as I bit down on the gag and tried to endure it as best I could until the afterburn subsided a little.

I was drooling a little now. It's hard to swallow when your mouth is so full, and of course there was no way to stop my saliva dripping out of my mouth onto the sheets.

My bottom was on fire. So many stripes of pain burning deep on the whole area that Benjamin had already punished. This was the most painful punishment I'd ever received, and yet even so, my pussy was dripping wet and probably leaving another wet patch on the pillows.

The email that Stephen was reading me had struck a fear into my heart - a delicious fear that was as unbelievably arousing as it was dreadful.

Being dominated has always been my fantasy, but Stephen had just raised it to a new dimension. Actually giving his permission for this other man to spank me? As a regular thing! In my place of work!

It was too much to comprehend - it meant that 24/7 I would be at the whim and mercy of two dominant men. The implications were profound. But I was so turned on I didn't know what to do with myself. Not that I was able to do anything at all of course, with my wrists cuffed behind me.

But Stephen's email wasn't finished.

"Please do not go easy on her. She is able to take a lot more than you probably think she can, and please remember that ultimately she needs this, and craves it."

Swiiiish CRACK!!!

This hit was high up on my bottom, where there was less flesh, and the pain was different. Less stinging, but more bruising. God it hurt. I desperately tried to reach the spot with my bound hands to try to rub it better.

"One final thing I would like to mention is that I have no problem whatsoever with you touching Jennifer sexually if that is what you deem will enhance her punishment. I find that teasing and denying her can deepen her level of submission to you."

Swiiiish.

My body jolted but no strike came.

Swiiiiish WHACK!!!!

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!" If my mouth hadn't been stuffed full, I would have shouted "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!!" so it's a good job it was, because Stephen doesn't like it when I swear.

"Best regards, Stephen Granville"

THWACK!!!!!

I didn't even hear the sound of the cane through the air - it caught me even more by surprise, and I bucked and screamed as the merciless cane bit into my stinging bottom.

"So Jen," he said, "We have a nice little arrangement now."

He put his hand on my lower back, just close to where my hands were cuffed, and then...

Swiiish CRACK!!!!

Swiiish CRACK!!!!

Swiiish CRACK!!!!

The three in quick succession on exactly the same place were more than I could bear. Even though he was pinning me down, I bucked and writhed so powerfully that I rolled off the side of the pillows away from him, flexing and tensing my body as I tried to endure the searing pain he'd just inflicted on my poor bottom.

Stephen calmly walked round the bed to me. His hand caressed the side of my thigh, up to my hip.

"You're doing very well," he soothed.

He moved his hand up my side, and reached over me to cup my breast, gently testing how hard my nipple was between his fingers.

"Nipple clamps for you tomorrow I think," he said.

I groaned, wriggling my hips in an attempt to get some scant stimulation of my pussy, which was crying out for attention. I couldn't remember ever being so desperately aroused as I was right now.

He must have known, because his hand now moved down over my bottom, and his finger delved between my legs, right into my wetness.

I gasped loudly in a shuddering intake of breath, as the glorious feeling of his large finger entering me brought a wave of pleasure so powerful that I thought I might orgasm right then and there.

Then two fingers were in me, and I was beside myself, moving my body against them to get them deeper still.

I realised that he was holding them absolutely still, leaving me to do all the work as I tried to move my pussy against them as best I could. It was incredibly difficult - my ankles were still attached to the spreader bar, meaning that one leg was uncomfortably up in the air, my legs wide open for him to watch my pussy throb around his fingers.

With the slightest of movements, I think he curled his fingers to touch my G-spot - it was hard to understand what he was doing, but it felt mind blowingly wonderful. My whole body was awash with orgasmic pleasure - I knew that all he had to do was fuck my pussy with his fingers in that spot for just a few seconds and I would have the most insanely powerful orgasm.

He knew it too, and he knew exactly how much or how little to do to keep me right there on the edge but never quite tip over.

With infinitesimally small movements, he had me urgently and desperately shuddering and crying out. I'd lost all control. I could not have been more in his power, naked and punished and desperate for sexual satisfaction.

And then he yanked his fingers roughly out of me.

"That's enough of that you naughty girl," he said sternly, and he slapped my bottom hard with his hand.

Through the gag, I was trying to beg him, pathetic and anguished, needing so little to achieve the orgasm I was teetering on the edge of.

But instead I found myself lifted back onto the pillows, his hands now pulling my hips up to tell me to raise my bottom. To force me into position for the rest of my punishment.

"Three more," he told me.

And then the cane was moving softly up the backs of my thighs, and over the curve of my bottom. Its movement wasn't as smooth as before though - I could feel that there were welts that it was travelling over.

Then he must have turned the cane ninety degrees because the next thing I felt was the smooth nobbly wood nestling into my slick pussy lips, and despite myself I found myself pushing against it, bucking my hips, to get sexual gratification from it.

When you belong to someone, as their submissive slave girl, there are times when you have no dignity or shame. They strip away all your inhibitions, and have you do all manner of things that prove your true submission. But they never think less of you. They enjoy the power it gives them - and so do you.

One of my main purposes in life is to be Stephen's plaything. I devote a lot of my energy and thoughts to fulfilling that role for him, and in doing so, I also feel fulfilled. Deeply content. I have experienced so much true joy and happiness as Stephen's wife and slave girl.

But that doesn't mean that it isn't a challenging role to have.

God it was so hard to be so desperate for sexual satisfaction, but to be denied it - given only that thin cane against my sensitive pussy to try to pleasure myself against.

He let me grind against it for a while, and I heard him chuckling to himself.

"That's not giving you what you need is it?"

Of course I couldn't answer through the gag, but my frustrated groans told him all he needed to know.

He tapped the cane against my pussy a few times, right on my clitoris which was protruding out from its hood, and electrically sensitive, so this treatment was very cruel indeed.

And then he took it away altogether, and instead he lashed my bottom with it with a sudden swipe that took my breath away.

I howled, long and loud. But I hadn't recovered before the next one arrived, whipping that place that I'd known earlier would hurt so much when I walked.

I was completely out of control now, bucking and writhing, and he had to push the spreader bar flat to the bed again.

He took hold of the handcuffs, and pulled my wrists higher up my back.

He put his hands on my hips and lifted my bottom.

"Last one," he told me. "And it's going to hurt the most."

He traced the tip of the cane down my spine and between my burning buttocks. He was stood next to my face now, and I could see the bulge of his cock through his trousers. I longer to have that in me.

From where he stood, he prodded the tip of the cane against my anus, and then tapped it repeatedly with increasing force so that it was also hitting my perineum, just below the sensitive wetness of my pussy, over and over, harder and harder, until suddenly:

THWACK!!!

I cried out so loudly and urgently that it's lucky we don't have neighbours nearby. That hurt so fucking much I can't begin to tell you.

I was beyond turned on. I was delirious. I could not have been more in my subspace, or more sexually desperate, as my anus and perineum stung ferociously.

--

That evening for me was a kind of renaissance.

Stephen and I discovered a new level to our relationship. One in which I learned to understand that there must be no secrets between a submissive and her owner - no privacy, no shame, and no limits.

Of course as my owner, Stephen is responsible for imposing the limits and keeping me safe. My role is simply to be as open as I can to whatever he wants to do with me. And I exalt in it. I love it. I need it.

I could not have loved him more, or felt more committed to him than I did that evening.

He stood and caressed all the places he'd caned me - his fingers tracing every welt and every red stripe he'd decorated me with, every place that now stung deeply and powerfully, and which would remind me for days that I was owned by him.

"Good girl," he soothed. "You've done very well."

I was still slowly writhing my hips, longing to be touched. Longing to be fucked.

As if reading my mind, he said in a kind voice: "No orgasm for you baby. And no more touching. You have a week of punishment, remember?"

He undid the buckle which held my ball gag in place, and removed it from me. It was such an enormous relief. I flexed my jaw, and swallowed my saliva, and, pursing my lips, I gave short little breaths, trying to calm myself down.

Next he freed my ankles from the spreader bar and the cuffs, and I enjoyed the luxury of putting my legs together. My hips ached. My leg muscles ached. I needed to move and walk about, but of course I stayed right there in the middle of bed until I was told otherwise.

He was at the drawer, carefully putting the spreader bar and cuffs away, and I liked that was tending to that before me.

But I longed for him to undo the handcuffs now to give my arms some relief, and so that I could rub my poor wrists.

Instead, to my surprise, I felt the leather slave collar round my neck. He buckled it up snug to my throat, and then I heard the click of the padlock.

Then he slipped his fingers into it, constricting my throat, and put a large hand on my hip, and flipped me over onto my back, off of the pillows.

He released my collar while he busied himself putting the pillows back at the top of the bed.

It was very uncomfortable having the handcuffs under me - I had to arch my back to take the pressure off.

Then, from the drawer he fetched a silver chain, and another padlock.

I watched him, my mouth open a little, breathing hard. The corners of my mouth were sore from the gag. I knew he found that sexy.

He turned back to me, his movements calm and unhurried, and attached the chain to the ring in my collar. Then, wrapping the other end of the chain around his hand a few times, he tugged.

He pulled gently at first, but then powerfully enough that he lifted me until I was sitting upright, and I used my bound hands to help a little as it's not comfortable to be tugged by the neck like that.

"Sit on the edge of the bed," he told me, and I obediently shuffled myself round to do that, wincing as my super sore bottom slid across the cotton sheet.

"Now on your knees," he told me.

I slid off the bed as slowly as I could, but of course without my hands to help me, I had to simply drop onto my knees on the carpet, and I nearly overbalanced - but he held the chain taut and put out a steadying hand.

"Tomorrow I'm going to draw up a document," he told me, looking down at me with a kind twinkle in his eye. "It will let you sign yourself over to me as your owner. I'll lay out the terms and conditions - the rules you promise to abide by, and my responsibilities to you. You will be my slave."

I stared up at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. It was so much to take in. My head was reeling at everything that had happened to me over the last few days - and most especially this evening.

"Would you like that?" he asked me. "We will agree the terms between us, but it will be a formal recognition of our roles. A bit like our marriage vows - a commitment to me always owning you and you promising to always be submissive to me."

My heart swelled and I thought it might burst out of my chest.

"Oh Stephen. Yes. Yes please."

He smiled, and bent down to kiss me. At first softly, and then with passion, our tongues in each other's mouths, groaning with longing.

It would have been like an intensely romantic moment in a movie, except that in our case I was handcuffed and collared, and my bottom was striped with marks from his cane.

He stood up, our lips separating even though mine were open and longing for more. He let go of the chain, and it fell to the floor, slapping against my tummy.

"The next 7 days will be a wonderful way to start our new commitment," he said. "Your extended punishment will be a perfect way to form a deeper bond. And on day 8, if you've accepted your punishment well and Benjamin reports that you've been good, I will reward you with orgasms."

"Oh god," I breathed. "Oh Stephen."

"And now, my beautiful slave, open your mouth."

And he undid his trousers.