Jim had been working at Hardman Industries as a salesman for a week now, and was enjoying his new role. The company was thriving and successful and his job was busy and carried a lot of responsibility. As he nudged his two-seater sports car into the private parking garage beneath Harmans state of the art office building, Jim reflected that hed done very well for a twenty-six year old: a well paid job, an apartment in one of the more fashionable parts of town, and he was dating one of the prettiest women he knew. He was due to see Katie that evening, in fact.
Jim locked his car and bounded up the six flights of stairs to his office lifts were for wimps as far as he was concerned. Besides, he worked out at the gym three nights a week and so stairs were no problem his muscular legs and firm butt could cope, would even benefit from a little more working-out. Give Katie something to get a hold of!
Jim was a good looking young man short dark hair, with a slight wave, framed his handsome face, with its full red lips and deep-brown, long-lashed eyes. He knew that heads turned when he entered a room. He was dressed in a dark-blue woollen suit, the trousers slim cut and showing off his shapely legs, and a white shirt which made perfectly clear the toned definition of Jims chest and arms. In anticipation of his date tonight, he had slipped first thing into a pair of those Calvin Klein body trunks, the ones that blonde model wore in the ads. Jim certainly wasnt gay, but he reckoned that any undershorts which made his not inconsiderable package look as good as the one in the adverts had to be worth the money!
He hung his jacket over the back of his desk chair, collected himself a coffee from the kitchen area, and settled down to the work of the day, calling clients, fixing appointments to meet them so that he could use his charm and skills of persuasion to get them to buy Harmans products. The office he was in was an open plan one; around fifteen guys worked there alongside Jim, all part of the sales team. They were a great team, and he enjoyed their company.
The only thing that puzzled him about Hardmans was that in the week hed been there, he hadnt seen a single female around the place. All his colleagues were male, and even roles seen as traditionally female (not that Jim was in any way a _s_e_x_ist) such as receptionists and secretaries, were performed by males. He assumed that women just didnt last the pace at Hardmans they were demanding employers and besides, Jim was a bit of a mans man. He found it easier to work with men, and enjoyed their company when relaxing so he didnt mind the lack of females around the office too much. Not that hed build up much of a rapport with his fellow salesmen so far. In truth he thought them a bit of an uninspiring bunch. He was a much better salesman than any of them, and wasnt afraid to show it.
Time passed quickly, and it was mid morning when Jim received a call from his boss, Peter Barker.
"Jim, could you come and see me in my office, please." The call was brusque, and the words were a statement, not a request.
"Of course," Jim replied, and stood up from his seat. His desk was almost the farthest from his bosss office, and as he crossed the open plan floor, past his colleagues desks, he wondered what was wrong. From Barkers tone of voice it sounded like he had screwed up in some manner but he couldnt think how.
As he walked by Dave Carters desk, he saw the guy glance up surreptitiously. Carter was the only openly gay man in the office. Probably admiring my butt in these suit trousers, thought Jim. Well, he can admire all he wants to this is as much as hes ever going to see of my ass!
With hindsight, how Jim would regret that thought!
At Barkers office door, Jim stopped and knocked.
"Come in!" ordered the voice from within. Jim opened the door tentatively, slipped inside, and closed it behind him. Suddenly he felt like a naughty schoolboy.
Peter Barker was in his early forties, but still a slim and obviously fit man; he vaguely resembled a younger version of Harrison Ford. He was seated behind his desk at the opposite end of the office, his back to the window. A solitary desk chair stood in from of Barkers broad wooden desk; on the desk, a laptop and a couple of notebooks were the only items; Barker was a tidy worker.
"Sit," said Barker. Jim crossed the room, now nervous, and sat on the hard chair.
"Jim," Barker began immediately, "youve made a good start here, but today I received disappointing news. Nortons have cancelled their account with us and I have reason to believe that has something to do with you."
Nortons? Jim remembered! That was the guy whod lost his temper with him on the phone not for some reason of Jims making, as far as he could tell. The guy had just gone ballistic.
"But," stammered Jim, "That wasnt...."
"Thats enough," snapped Barker, sounding like Jims old headmaster. "Im not looking to hear excuses. We told you at your interview that we run a tight ship here that we dont tolerate failure."
"But thats not fair...."
"Be quiet! As I said, Im not looking for excuses. We made it perfectly clear that we dont accept _c_o_c_k_-ups. Youre here to be disciplined for your mistake so stand up right now and drop your trousers."
"WHAT???" Jim nearly overturned the chair he was sitting on in his surprise. "Youve got to be joking!"
"I most assuredly am not. Not stand up and do as you are told."
"No!" shrieked Jim. "You cant do that!"
"I assume that you read your contract before signing it?"
"What?" Jim hadnt, of course all contracts were the same, werent they? "Yes.... I mean.... no!"
"No? Well thats a great shame. If you had, youd have been aware of our disciplinary policy."
"Disciplinary policy?" Jim almost whispered the words. He was starting to sweat with panic; he felt cold beads of perspiration roll from his armpits down the sides of his chest.
"Yes, disciplinary policy," sighed Barker, opening his desk drawer and pulling out a sheet of paper. "I suppose you had better read the relevant section right now."
He pushed the sheet to Jim, who picked it up with trembling hand.
"Section 18: Disciplinary Policy. Paragraph 18.1: Any employee who is deemed to have failed in any of his allocated tasks and responsibilities will be disciplined with a spanking at the time of the employers choosing. The duration and nature of this spanking will also be at the sole discretion of the employer. There is no right of appeal to the employee either against the reason cited for the discipline, or for the manner in which it is carried out."
"Spanking?" gasped Jim, his voice quaking. "But you cant...."
"Actually, we can. If you refuse, you will be in breach of contract, and you will be dismissed immediately, without any notice period, and without any references to future employers. Its your choice."
Jims heart was pounding with fear. Barker couldnt seriously intend to do this, could he? Jim thought about the new car hed just bought, the rent on his apartment, how much he owed on his credit cards.
Despite Barkers words, he knew he had no choice. He sat, petrified, desperately looking for the way out which didnt exist.
"Well?" snapped Barker, breaking the silence.
Without answering, Jim stood up. Red-faced with embarrassment, and staring furiously at the floor rather than catch Barkers eye, he slowly unbuckled his expensive leather belt, then undid the catch at the waistband of his dark woollen trousers. Tentatively, with trembling fingers, he fumbled at the zipper, lowering it slowly to open his fly wide.
He paused, unable to go on.
"Come on, man!" bellowed Barker. "We havent go all day!"
Broken, Jim pushed the sides of his trouser waistband down from his hips. He felt the garment sag momentarily, then slip easily and swiftly down his tanned legs. The fabric tickled the soft brown hair which covered his thighs as it sighed downwards. Briefly, his trousers paused, bunched at his knees, but as Jim shuffled uneasily from foot to foot, they slipped finally to land pooled around his ankles.
His tight white cotton trunks and black woollen socks were on full display and between those items of clothing, nothing but bare leg. Jim wished that the ground would swallow him up. He could feel the hairs on his legs prickling as a rash of goosebumps, the products of his embarrassment, covered his flesh. His _c_o_c_k_ contracted in his shorts as he felt Barkers cool gaze focus on his crotch.
"Now step out of those trousers and hang them over the chair over by the window."
"What?"
"Dont argue. Do it!"
Reluctantly, Jim made to sit back down on the chair.
"Did I tell you that you could sit?" snapped Barker.
"But...."
"No buts simply do as you are told and you will leave this office with a job. If not, Ill call HR and get your papers drawn up."
Jim had no argument. Sheepishly, he bent over, feeling his shirt tails ride high over his stretching rump and crisp white trunks. He fumbled with his shoe laces, then awkwardly pulled off his shoes, first one and then the other, lurching slightly as he lost his balance. Finally, his shoes were off, and still stooping, he lifted his left foot and slipped his crumpled trousers off over his smooth black sock.
He paused briefly, his trousers now only on one leg, overcome by embarrassment and panic. Could he still get out of this situation?
"Come on, boy! Do you want to keep your job or not?"
"Yessir, I mean, I do, sir," Jim spluttered, all in a rush, again remembering the debts he had built up in recent months. "I do."
And with that, he slipped his trousers off his right foot, and straightened up, absently folding his trousers neatly as he held them in front of him.
"Good. Now hang them over the chair as instructed."
Feeling very foolish in his shirt and tie but no trousers, Jim walked across to the chair, aware that Barker would now be getting a very good view of his backside in the tight pants. He draped his trousers carefully over the chair no point getting them creased and walked back to face Barker.
Barker now stood up and walked round from behind the desk. He was carrying something in his hands which he carefully placed on the desk, on the side nearest to the chair in which Jim had earlier been sitting. To his horror, Jim saw that it was some form of paddle, made out of leather and split into separate sections at the end like an old fashioned tawse. He felt his heart pounding surely Barker wasnt going to use THAT on him??
Barker pulled the chair round slightly, and then sat down on it, so that he was facing the by-now quaking Jim.
"Please, Mr Barker, surely theres another way? Ill take pay cut! Work twice as hard."
"Be quiet, Jim," said his boss, calmly. "I told you before, theres no call for discussion now. Our disciplinary policy is very clear, and is not open to variation. You will be spanked for your misdemeanour, just like any other of the men who work here. Now get over my knees!"
His face now burning red with shame, and his head hung low with embarrassment, Jim lowered himself awkwardly over his managers lap, not knowing where to put his hands to support himself, so that in the end he fell heavily forwards, landing with a thump that momentarily winded him. His _c_o_c_k_ and balls were pressed against the suit fabric covering Barkers right thigh, and his head was hanging down so that he could see his bare calves and sock-clad feet on the other side of Barkers legs. The blood was rushing to his head, making it pound. He had never been in this position before! His parents had been "modern" and didnt believe in corporal punishment of any sort, and of course it was outlawed in the state schools.
Jims embarrassment increased when Barker suddenly placed his hands on each side of Jims waist. He bounced his legs slightly, and used the momentum to manoeuvre Jim further across his lap, so that Jims crotch was now in the gap between Barkers legs, and Jims bare legs had been raised to hang above the ground. The action tipped Jims head further down, so that he had to support himself with his hands on the floor.
He had never felt so helpless.
For a short moment, nothing happened. And then to his horror, Jim felt his bosss large hand rest on the centre of his backside, and then rub gently from side to side. Barker briefly squeezed the mounds of his arse, and then....
WHACK!
Jim wriggled and grunted quietly. The blow was uncomfortable, nothing more. Perhaps this wasnt going to be so bad after all!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
"Oh," gasped Jim. These three slaps were less easy to tolerate. Barker was alternating his blows to Jims cheeks, covering as much area as possible. Jim suddenly realised that his bottom was totally exposed, totally vulnerable, and for the time being, was quite literally, totally in Barkers hands. Suddenly, he felt much more naked than he had when dropping his suit pants.
WHACK! WHACK! WHAAACK!
"AAH!" Jim yelped. This was definitely getting worse. And was he imagining it, or were Barkers blows getting harder?
WHAAACK!!
"OOWWW!"
Jim bucked under this last blow, and his legs flailed uselessly in mid air. As he steadied himself he found that he was pushing his buttocks upwards, almost to greet Barkers next blow.
WHACK! WHACK! WHAAACK!
"AAAAHH!! NO!! OOWWW THAT HURTS!!! STOPP! PLEEASSE?!!"
"I shall decide when to stop, not you," said Barker quietly and calmly.
WHAACK!! WHACCK!! WHAAACKK! WHAAAACK!!
"OOOOAAAEEE! NOOOO! AAARGHH! AAAAHOOOWWNOOO!"
Jims bum was starting seriously to sting. It felt on fire, just from the blows from Barkers bare hand. Barker was working his backside methodically still, slapping on cheek in turn, and working from the tops of his buttocks down over the firm and rounded mounds to the point where his bum met his thighs. This last point was the most agonising of all and Jim yelped and bucked each time that Barker focused his fire on this incredibly sensitive spot. Jim was relieved that at least he had his undershorts on they must have been giving some protection from the pain.
WHACK! WHACK! WHAAACK!
"AAAAAHHH!!" screamed Jim, kicking and rocking on Barkers lap. But because he had to support himself on his hands, and with Barkers firm arm holding him around his waist, there was nothing he could do to escape the unrelenting pain.
His butt was burning with pain now! Jim had never felt anything like it. His head was pounding and his face felt flushed as red as his behind. And then suddenly, out of nowhere, Jim felt hot tears prickle from his eyes and start to course down his face.
WHAACK!! WHACCK!! WHAAACKK! WHAAAACK!! WHAACK!! WHACCK!! WHAAACKK! WHAAAACK!! WHAACK!! WHACCK!! WHAAACKK! WHAAAACK!! WHAACK!! WHACCK!! WHAAACKK! WHAAAACK!!
"NOOO!! PPLEAASEE STOPP I CANT TAKE IT PLEEEASE STOPP IT HURTS NOOO NOOOO PLEASE!!!! OOAAAAUUUUGH! NOOO! STOOOOOPP! AAAAAH! PLEASE STOP NOOO! PLEASE I CANT BEAR IT NOOO ILL NEVER DO IT AGAIN! ILL WORK HARD ILL BE GOOD I PROMISE! OOUUFGH!! OOOUUWWWW NOOOOOOOO!!"
WHAACK!! WHACCK!! WHAAACKK! WHAAAACK!! WHAACK!! WHACCK!! WHAAACKK! WHAAAACK!!
Barker ignored his wailings and pleadings, and continued to batter blows down on Jims writhing and tortured behind. As Jim desperately tried to escape the blows, he realised that his screams and sobs must be audible to everyone outside in the main office.
With a sudden shock his embarrassment tripled all his colleagues knew what was happening to him, could hear him crying like a little boy and pleading for mercy!! Hed never live this down!
WHAACK!! WHAACKK! WHAACKK!!
"OOUUUWW!! NOO! STOP PLEASE STOP!! IT HUURRTS! AAAH!"
Barkers hand continued to rain down on Jims bruised and throbbing bum for what seemed like an eternity. Jim was sobbing and sniffling, with rivers of snot dribbling from his nose. His legs waved helplessly in the air behind him as his throbbing butt was spanked.
Finally, Barker stopped his assault. Jim fell limp over his bosss lap, sobbing quietly. At least it was finally over.
He felt the palm of Barkers hand resting lightly on his red-hot cheeks, rubbing them gently, and squeezing the tortured flesh. It felt comforting somehow, a gentle massage to ease the pain which was coursing from the backs of his tender thighs right the way across his meaty mounds. Jim sniffed one last time, and prepared to raise himself up from his embarrassing position.
"Where do you think youre going?" Barkers hand was suddenly pressing hard down on his bottom. "Dont for a second imagine this is over. That was only the warm up."
And with that, he wrenched Jims tight cotton trunks off over his buttocks, tugging hard so that they slid down in front, propelling Jims _c_o_c_k_ and balls to dangle wildly in the gap between Barkers seated thighs.
"NOOOOO!" screamed Jim. "NOT ON MY BARE ASS!"
Was that laughter he heard from the outer office?
Barker continued to tug at the cotton trunks, working them down Jims thighs, bouncing his prone employee on his knees at the appropriate moment to secure the trunks' passage across Barkers own leg. Then he whipped them swiftly over Jims knees, along his calves, and off over his feet! He tossed them casually away. Jim, from underneath Barkers lap, saw them fall in a tangled heap on the floor about four yards away.
He was lying over his bosss lap in nothing but shirt, tie and black woollen socks, his bare and reddened backside pointing at the ceiling. His shirt had ridden up along his back as he had been spanked. Jim was naked from his armpits to his socks, and his discipline wasnt over yet.
Barker leant over to the desk and picked up the leather paddle he had placed there at the start of the session.
"Now, young man," he said, sternly, "The serious part of your punishment will take place."
Jim whimpered softly, fearing the damage that two-tongued paddle would do to his already tender and painful butt.
"I shall administer twenty strokes with the paddle. After each one, you will say the number of the stroke, and Thank you, sir. If you forget to do this, or attempt to move, I shall start again from stroke number one. Do you understand?"
"Yes," mumbled Jim, sulkily. This was going from bad to worse!
"Yes what?" snapped Barker. "And speak up!"
"YES, SIR!" Jim almost bellowed.
"Good, Then we shall begin."
Jim felt the cold leather paddle being rubbed gently across both buttocks for a couple of seconds, and then it was withdrawn, raised high in the air. He clenched his cheeks in anticipation, but nothing happened. He relaxed again, and....
CRAAAACCK!
"AAAEEEEOOUGHHHH! OOOOUAAAAGH! NOOOO!" screamed Jim. Then sensing the pause, he added swiftly, "One! Thank you, sir."
CRAAAAAACCK!
"OOOAAWW! AAAHH! TWO, thank you sir!"
CRAACK!
"Three, thank you sir!"
CRAACCCK!
"Four, thankyousir!"
CRAAACK!
"Five, thank you sir!"
CRAAAAACCCK!!!!
"AAAAAAAAARRGGHHH! AAAAAAHHHH! NOOOOOO!"
This sixth crack of the paddle on Jims tortured and throbbing behind was too much to bear. Barker seemed to have found new reserves of strength for it. Jim was unable to control himself, and swung his right hand back to try and protect his burning buttocks.
Barker grabbed his wrist and twisted it up firmly between Jims shoulder blades.
"I told you the penalty for moving," Barker snapped at the back of the wriggling and gasping young mans head. "We start again from one!"
"NOO!! PLEASE!! NOOO! I CANT BEAR IT!"
"You have no choice. Now lie still or I shall increase the penalty to 30 strokes."
Jim fell motionless instantly. He couldnt bear one more blow, let along thirty. He hung limply over his bosss lap, one arm supporting him on the floor, the other twisted painfully behind his back. His bare legs dangled uselessly. His butt throbbed with pain, and tears were pouring down his reddened face.
CRAAAACCK! "One, thank you sir" spluttered Jim in a small, broken voice.
CRAAAACCK! "Two, thank you sir"
CRAAAACCK! "OOUUGH! THREE, thank you sir."
In a daze, Jim felt the searing cracks of the paddle burn down on his bruised behind, alternating on each cheek, and working up and down his posterior to cover the whole area from the small of his back to his painful and sensitive thighs. Immobilised as far as his upper body was concerned, Jim bucked and kicked his legs fruitlessly into thin air and his butt and thighs shrieked with the pain. His _c_o_c_k_ and balls swung wildly to and fro as they hung between Barkers legs.
Finally, came....
CRAAAACCK! "OOOAAAAWW! TWENTY, OUACH, THANKYOUSIR!!"
The torment stopped.
Barker released his arm, and Jim collapsed fully over his bosss lap, his legs spread wide as his swollen and reddened buttocks throbbed with the heat. He was sobbing and gulping in pain.
Barkers hand once again gently smoothed his burning flesh, rubbing over the scarlet mounds, until it came to rest gently in the crack between his cheeks. One of Barkers fingers touched lightly at Jims puckered asshole.
Jim wasnt gay on any account, but somehow, the touch of that cool finger on his butthole in the midst of that roasting, tender flesh, made him pop a boner instantly. His _c_o_c_k_ reared up, jutting against the rough wool of Barkers suit trousers.
"Stand up."
"I dont think I can," whimpered Jim.
WHAAACK! WHHAAACK! WHAAACK!
"OOUAAH! OUUFF! OUUACH!"
"You will do as you are told!"
Stiffly and painfully, Jim pulled himself into a standing position. His long, thin _c_o_c_k_ poked out from beneath his shirt tails.
"I see," sniffed Barker. "A young man who enjoys a spanking!"
"No, its...."
"Silence. You may go and stand in the corner until I tell you to come out. Hands on top of your head."
Jim shuffled across the room, his hard _c_o_c_k_ bobbing with every step. He reached the corner, and turned to face the wall. As he raised his hands and placed them on his head, his shirttails were lifted high, revealing his reddened and throbbing bum.
Barker left him in the corner for ten minutes. Jim, sniffing and mortified with shame, desperately tried thinking about anything that would encourage his boner to subside. But somehow, a combination of the embarrassment that Barker had a full view of his round and scarlet cheeks, and the blood throbbing through his tortured butt, made his boner harder than ever. Whatever he tried to think about, it would simply not subside.
Finally, Barker called him back to the desk. He limped over, his _c_o_c_k_ still proudly bobbing in front of him.
"I see," observed Barker. "Well, you cant stay here all day. Get back to your desk and one more thing I want a full report on your plans to replace Nortons with a new client, by close of business today. Understand?"
"Yessir" sniffed Jim as he painfully bent to retrieve his Calvins from the floor. He edged them up his tortured thighs and eased them over his swollen and painful mounds, wincing with agony at every twinge. His stiff _c_o_c_k_ showed visibly through the thin white cotton. Then he crossed the room to fetch his trousers.
"What do you think you are doing?" bellowed Barker.
Jim stopped in mid-stride, in bewilderment.
"Since you have so obviously never read your contract, you had better read this section of the disciplinary policy as well."
Barker slid another sheet of paper across his desk. Jim limped painfully over to the desk, and read:
"Paragraph 18.2: Any employee who is being disciplined will forfeit his trousers until 5.45pm on the day of discipline. The items will be returned to him at that point assuming that the discipline is now deemed to have been completed."
"But, you cant...." spluttered Jim.
"I can unless of course you wish to face dismissal. Now put your shoes on and leave."
Beaten, Jim slipped his feet into his shoes and tied the laces, bending painfully rather than face the worse torment of sitting on his burning ass. Even then, the tightened pressure of the cotton trunks as he bent over was almost too much to bear.
In shirt, tie, shorts, socks and shoes, he shuffled over to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned with one last imploring look to Barker.
"Dismissed," snapped Barker.
His head hanging down, Jim opened the door slowly and stepped into the open plan office where his colleagues were waiting. The room was totally silent. Painfully aware that his shirt tails were quite short, and that the bulge of his balls and the outline of his swollen and rigid _c_o_c_k_ were fully visible, he walked carefully and quietly across the room, and sat down at his own desk.
Waves of pain course through him as his buttocks pressed down on the firm surface of his desk chair. His bare legs, even though they were hidden under the desk, felt totally exposed. Sniffing and still with tears in his eyes, Jim attempted to look at some work, as if pretending than nothing had happened. He darent look up at his colleagues. If he could just sit at his desk and pretend no one else was there, he might just get through the day.
That familiar ping-pong sound told him an email had arrived. He opened it it was from Barker.
"I assume that you will not have previously read the following," it began.
"Paragraph 18.3. Any employee who is undergoing discipline may be further disciplined by any of his colleagues as see fit, for whatever reason, and in whatever manner of their choosing. Again, the employee has no right of appeal against this further discipline."
His heart almost stopped with the shock! He couldnt help but look up, to see all of his fellow salesmen grinning at him with sinister intent.
This was going to be a long and difficult day!
(To be continued.)