Christmas in our office meant the usual run of office parties, section lunches, Christmas cards and decorations and a general lack of industrious spirit when it cam to work. Admittedly in our department we had just completed a fairly hectic publicity mail-shot and were glad of the chance to relax after a frantic fortnight.
After his run-in with us over Paul's screen wallpaper, Greg was much better behaved, and indeed had become remarkably friendly with the punishment trio. Paul and I had really gotten to know one another better after that, but in a relaxed and amiable (and discreet) way. Even more of a surprise was Mike, who had intimated on several occasions that he would like to be taken into the meeting room and spanked, caned or paddled, with or without his trousers down by either Paul or myself or both of us. We promised him a suitable present on the last working day before Christmas!
In the meantime, Greg had introduced us to "MMSA Stories Spanking Archive" which was thoroughly entertaining stuff, and moistened at least four sets of underwear in the office on a regular basis. I happened to be reading one of the stories in the archive one quiet late afternoon when I had the grave misfortune to be caught by Mr Merrick, one of the senior managers.
Not only was Harold Merrick one of the senior managers, but he was also a bit of a bully when he wanted to be. He wore an English military style moustache, greased-back hair, immaculate classic designed suits and swaggered as though he was still an officer in Her Majesty's Army. He was a tall and brawny fellow with strong arms and big hands; he reminded me of a gorilla in some ways. I saw him strut into our section but was unable to dispose of the evidence in time, as I was answering a call on Paul's phone as he had just gone to the coffee machine.
"Good god what's this?" blustered Merrick, seeing the script on the screen.
"I....I can explain...." I answered, almost wetting myself in panic
"A 'Spanking Archive'?" he said, investigating further. He scrolled through the story titles with an expert's touch. For all his conservatism, he was really rather good with PCs and the Net.
"Er......" was my attempt at a reply
"Into spanking then young man?" he enquired, his face flushed with indignation.
"Er....." was again my attempt at a reply. I was lost for words and I could feel my face flushing as much as Mr Merrick's, but with nervous embarrassment. Mr Merrick had seated himself in my chair and I was looking down at him
He grunted then announced "Well man, if it's a spanking you want, it's a spanking you'll get!"
"Sir?" I asked, horror-struck. Before I could speak further, or move, he had swept me over his lap with his great arms. His left hand pressed me firmly down onto his lap and out of the corner of my eye I could see his big right palm spread wide and descending mercilessly upon the target that was my bottom.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.
Slowly and solemnly he spanked my ass, his hand making a heavy low noise as it impacted across my tensed, warm buttocks.
"This was the way we treated our new recruits when they stepped out of line, boy." He said with an obvious gloat in his voice.
"Urgh-huhh...." I replied through gritted teeth. It was a dull, throbbing soreness that was beginning to develop in my behind. It was quickly becoming uncomfortable and I gasped and grunted and choked yelps of pain.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.
"I'm sure you'll soon learn your lesson, heh, heh, heh...." he snorted. He was obviously relishing every slap he made across my behind. I felt tears prick my eyes
"It's roast boy-rump not roast turkey for you this Christmas, you naughty boy!" he added.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP........I was desperately hoping it would end soon. Equally I was hoping Mr Merrick would not consider taking down my trousers, because pressed between his chunky thigh and my hip was my excited penis which was swelling to full erection with the tingling in my ass. A bare-bottom spanking would hurt even more, and what would be said about my boner?
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP........This really was hurting now..... And what would happen if I was caught like this - the shame of being spanked like a naughty child in the middle of the office.
"_s_h_i_t_ Neil! Mr Merrick!" exclaimed a voice.
Salvation!! It was Paul, returned from the coffee machine with two cups of coffee and the obligatory bars of chocolate for afternoon break (which explained why the pair of us were a tad cuddly!). Paul put down his wares and headed towards us. He had seen enough of Mr Merrick's activities, and could see my reddened face, to appreciate the situation.
"Mr Merrick, put Neil down please!" said Paul, trying to sound authoritative, which was not entirely convincing, given who he was speaking to! Paul tried to release the man's hold upon me.
"Put him down? Hell no, I'm punishing him!" said Mr Merrick, glaring like a pit-bull terrier at Paul, "And I'll punish you too for your impertinence!"
"What the fu---?" gasped Paul. To his complete astonishment (and mine) Mr Merrick overbalanced him and swept him on top of me, sandwiching me between his legs and Paul's horrified body.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.
"Ee-ouch!" exclaimed Paul, as Mr Merrick administered the first, full-handed slaps upon his ample behind. It was hard to tell just by the sound, but I was sure this spanking was much heavier.
"Get off me!" admonished Paul, who was wriggling on top of me. I yelped as his weight fell more fully onto my tanned behind, although I did also feel the unmistakable sensation of his crotch being pressed between my (regrettably) trousered ass-halves. "Sorry Neil....." he murmured in my ear.
"Stop fidgeting lad! Never have I known such rude behaviour!" said Mr Merrick who dealt Paul a few more slaps, "I shall have to deal with you more severely!"
"No, please!" gasped Paul. I couldn't see what was happening to make his anguish greater.
I felt a hand thrust between our two bodies. It homed in on the front of Paul's trousers and roughly and unceremoniously undid them.
"Please sir, no...."cried Paul. Mr Merrick ignored him as far as I could tell. Paul's trousers were dragged from his waist halfway down his thighs, and his boxers followed with a stitch-snapping briskness. Mr Merrick then continued his task.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.
He was as ruthless as before, now walloping the quite naked and vulnerable meaty mounds of Paul's ass. From my ridiculous position all I could see was Paul's face, as red and distressed as my own, his glasses slipping down his nose and blond fringe tousled, and the expressions he pulled as each blow, now more painful than before was inflicted upon his behind with an alarming rhythm. His body jolted against mine, sending more shocks into my rear, and while I could tell Paul's _c_o_c_k_ was hardening against my punished ass, I was aware he was not truly enjoying the experience because of who it was wielding the blows.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP
"You'll learn this lesson well _d_a_m_n_ you!" said Mr Merrick. Poor Paul - he had only tried to help me.....
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP - beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.
"Hell, my pager!" he exclaimed, mid thrash.
Hooray - his pager, I thought to myself. Never again would I criticise their existence after the salvation one had brought us now.
Without further ado Mr Merrick pushed the pair of us off his lap, stood up and went to the phone, dialled a number and spoke quickly and curtly, without a hint of the exertions upon our behinds in his voice. We lay there, beaten and shamed, waiting for him to go.
"I have a meeting to attend to lads." he said, "So you have been saved. Have you learned your lesson?"
"Yes, Mr Merrick." we chimed miserably.
"Well if I catch you two misbehaving again, it'll be a good lashing with my belt."
And with this pronouncement, he departed. Paul got up from on top of me and I turned to face him.
"You okay Paul?" I asked
"I'll live mate, but my ass is _f_u_c_k_ing killing me. Yours?"
"Yeah. Let's see the damage." I instructed. Paul turned his behind towards me. From beneath the tail of his pale blue shirt there was the winter white flesh of his backside now marked in big patches on each cheek with fiery bronze red bruising, shining almost in contrast to his shirt, grey jersey shorts and dark trousers.
"It looks so sore." I said, lightly kissing a ruddy cheek. He yelped
"It is. What's your bum like?" Paul asked. I turned and lowered my trousers and boxers so he could see. "Not too bad, but then he didn't spank you bare did he?"
"Thankfully, no." I answered. I resumed my trousers, and gingerly assisted Paul in pulling his up over his battered butt cheeks.
We then stood up from behind our desks then very, very carefully we tried sitting down.
We cringed in pain. A sharp, vicious jolt shot up from my ass-cheeks. I saw Paul's eyes water as he felt a similar sensation.
"God knows how I'll make the bus journey home!" I muttered.
"I'll drive you if you want, but the seats aren't much more comfortable." He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, "Then I'll find something to cool your cheeks."
"I have one or two ideas myself." I said, attempting a half-smile, "Like a tub of ice-cream!"
"And a willing tongue?" added Paul wickedly.
We walked (slowly and carefully as our pants rubbed our butts) down the stairs with Mike, returned from a PR presentation ("No talent for any of us!" he lamented). En route we told him of our run-in with Mr "Monster-Spanker" Merrick as Paul had christened him, and of the end results. Mike commiserated with us in the foyer, hoping we would recover and wished us a pleasant evening. But, as we parted on the entrance steps he quipped with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Just tell me how to misbehave for when he's next about!" and blatantly patted his own behind!