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I can be rather lazy at times, especially when I’m doing a routine job I’ve done lots of times. The current job was making out the Department Manager’s monthly report. I just had to cut and paste sections out of the previous monthly report and the various divisional reports and that was it. I whipped through it and posted it off to the DM with time to spare. Once I had his formal approval I’d just send out copies to everyone concerned in time for the big monthly meetings the next day.

Just at knocking off time the DM came stalking into my little office and it was plain that he was in a real snit. He’s new, taking over after heading up a smaller department elsewhere in the organisation. My old DM was a real sweetheart. He’d just been offered early retirement and had been happy to take it. This new guy was not a sweetheart.

I still didn’t see what his problem was. I’d delivered his report on time.

He slapped a sheath of papers down on my desk. I could see at a glance that it was the report.

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” he snarled at me.

“It’s the monthly report,” I said, feeling rather blank. What the hell did he think it was?

“Really? Why don’t you browse through it?”

So I opened up the report and oh – my – god, the first page had great big red circles on it. And that was the best page. The report was riddled with circles and cross-outs and slashes.

I was just staring at it, aghast. I mean, it was a standard report.

“Tell me,” said the DM. “Did you read the instructions regarding your duties? The one I gave you when I became your new manager?”

Was he kidding? I knew my job, and the instructions he’d dumped on me were so thick it would take a month to read them. I’d looked at a few of them and shuddered, but I did intend to work my way through the manual. Sometime.

“Ah, not completely,” I said cautiously. “I am working my way through it.”

“Are you indeed? Did it occur to you to read the section on the monthly report before you started this month’s report?”

You should have heard the honeyed sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Um, no,” I said, in a very small voice. “I just did the report the way Mr Evans always liked it.”

“Mr Evans may have liked it like that, but no-one else did. Didn’t he ever pass on the complaints about it?”

I just looked blank. Complaints? None that I’d heard of.

“Obviously not. Do you know why Mr Evans is no longer the departmental manager?”

“Um, we heard he took early retirement and was happy to take it.”

“And we were happy to see him go. Why do think he was offered early retirement? I’ll give you a hint. It wasn’t because he was superbly efficient and did a wonderful job.”

I took offense at that. Mr Evans had been a wonderful boss.

“I always understood that he had an excellent reputation,” I said, speaking firmly to show I wasn’t scared of this bully.

“He did have, once. His abilities have declined remarkably in the past couple of years. That’s why he was offered a way out. We thought it would be inappropriate to fire him after all the years of excellent work he put in.”

He gave me a few moments to digest this. Thinking back over the past couple of years I had to admit that he wasn’t the manager he used to be. He often let things slide when he shouldn’t. A bad habit I seemed to have picked up.

“Of course,” the DM said in this very nasty voice, “the same doesn’t apply where inefficient secretaries are concerned. Them we just fire.”

Me? He meant me? He was going to fire me? He couldn’t. I liked this job. I could do this job and I needed this job.

“What? You can’t fire me,” I protested. I saw the nasty look in his eye and hastily added, “Well, you can, of course, but you shouldn’t. I’m really a very good secretary. I’ll show you. I’ll have the report redone according to the new guidelines before I go home tonight.”

“Why should I let you? You obviously failed to read your instructions and just idle your way through your duties. I’m not helpless, you know, and I can get out the monthly report myself.”

“But you’ve got more important things to do, sir,” I said desperately. “Just give me a chance and I’ll show you.”

The miserable old bastard rapped his knuckles against the report.

“It seems to me that you had a chance and failed to show me,” he said.

Snide swine. Still, I really needed this job.

“I may have grown a bit complacent,” I said hastily, “but you’ll find I am really quite efficient. Mr Evans wouldn’t have hired me in the first place if I wasn’t.”

Thank god Mr Evans used to have a very high reputation. Mr Wolfe actually seemed to be taking this into consideration. Finely he nodded.

“All right. I’ll be working back tonight. Have the final report on my desk before I go home.”

He turned and stalked back out of my office, leaving me reaching for my new instructions to see how the report should be presented. I have to admit, the new format made a lot more sense than the old one, even if it did mean more work for the person putting it together. Me. Still, when I buckle down to it I’m horrendously efficient, and I had a real incentive to buckle down to it.

It took me several hours and it was quite late when I finished, but I got that report completed, and it was a very good effort, even if I do say so myself. I was feeling quite pleased with myself as I made my way to Mr Wolfe’s office. I suspected that he and I were the last two people in the building. If I hadn’t screwed up we’d both be at home right now.

I knocked and entered and put a printed copy of the report on his desk. I’d printed a copy, as well as sending it via email, to ensure that it printed neatly, with no awkward page breaks.

Instead of grabbing the report and starting to read it Mr Wolfe gives me a really cold stare.

“If you had been anything like efficient we’d both have been able to go home hours ago,” he pointed out.

Did he really think I didn’t realise that I was still at work instead of relaxing at home, eating a nice meal?

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Sorry, sir.” I still needed my job.

“I was thinking that some sort of penalty is called for. Something other than just putting a nasty note in your personnel file. You seem to want to keep your job and if this report is anything like a decent report then I’ll say you’re entitled to be given another chance. So I’ve come up with an interesting little punishment that I’m sure you will detest.”

He gave me a very nasty smile, but I wasn’t going to comment. Let him lay it on the line. He did.

“I’m going to get you to bend over the desk next to me while I go through the report. Any time I find an error I’m going to give you a very firm spank on the bottom. You had better hope that I don’t find many errors, hadn’t you?”

“You can’t do that. You can’t make me.”

“True. Let’s put it this way. You can tender your resignation or you can drop your panties and tender your bottom. The choice is yours.”

Bastard. I was fuming. The report was good, I knew that, but what if he invented mistakes?

“The report is excellent. How do I know you won’t make up mistakes?” I blurted.

“I’ll play fair,” he said. “They will have to be genuine mistakes. Not just different interpretations of the instructions.”

“And if there are no mistakes,” I asked.

“Then there will be no smacks on your bottom, will there? But since you bring it up, rather than have you lose your panties for no reason, if there are no mistakes at all I’ll congratulate you with a thorough fucking.”

He didn’t say that. No way did he say that. But he had.

“So I have to hope for a mistake?”

“Don’t hope too hard,” he said, sounding as though he was trying to be kind. “You see, I’ll really feel sorry for you if I have to spank your pretty little bottom, and would feel the need to commiserate with you at the finish by fucking you.”

“Either way, you’re going to. . .”

“Mmm. I guess I’m the lucky one tonight. So what’s it going to be?”

Damn it all. Maybe he was bluffing. But could I chance it? If he wanted to he could fire me out of hand and there would be nothing I could do. No appeal would help. All he’d have to do would be to produce that first stinking report and there was his justification. So quit or get fucked.

The arrogant swine patted the desk next to him and I morosely went and bent over it. He promptly lifted up my dress.

“You forgot to pull these down,” he said cheerfully, pulling down my panties.

There I was, bent over the desk while he started reading the report, anticipating that first spank. And while I was doing that I was trying to convince myself that he wasn’t going to fuck me afterwards. I found out that I wasn’t very convincing. I could practically feel his cock pushing its way inside me. What would it be like, I wondered? How big is he? He was a big man, but that didn’t mean a big cock?

I almost screamed when his hand landed on my bottom. Don’t worry. It wasn’t a spank. He was just casually laying his hand on my bum.

In the short time I’d worked for our new DM, I’d noticed one thing. His hands are restless. When he’s talking or concentrating on anything his hands are always moving. The trouble was, while he was reading the report, his hand was absent-mindedly moving over my bottom.

He worked his fingers, incidentally massaging the cheek of my bottom. He drummed his fingers, which was worse, because his hand was hovering over my pussy, and those fingers were happily bouncing of my mound. He rubbed his hand around in circles, which wasn’t too bad when his hand was on my bottom, quite soothing, actually, but a bit much when his hand was on my mound and he was rubbing my lips back and forth.

A side effect of all this touching was that he was starting to arouse me, and I wondered if it was deliberate. Probably not, I decided. After all, I’m sure he wasn’t really going to fuck me. I mean, not really.

But what if he decided to? What could I do? All he had to do was stand up and unzip and there was I, laid out before him for his pleasure. Once again I started wondering what it would be like if he did stick his cock in me. What if he was really small? Would I laugh? That would be one way to get fired. Reason for leaving your last place of employment? Laughing at the boss’s little cock. Wouldn’t that look great on a resume.

There again, what if he was massive? I could already feel my pussy cringing under an assault by a giant battering ram. God, if it was too big he could split me in half. I’d be in hospital explaining to the nurse that my boss had a cock as big as his ego.

His hand was still moving restlessly over me. He was rubbing my bottom. He was rubbing my pussy. Hell’s bells. His hand had cupped my mound and he was kneading it as though it was dough.

I threw a desperate look at the report. He was about halfway through. OK. Halfway through with no spanks was good. Damn it. Only halfway through and his hand romping around my bottom and pussy was not good. Why couldn’t he read faster? Oh, god. If he read faster he’d be finished faster, and then he was going to fuck me. I needed him to read slower.

I was back to anticipating him actually going ahead and fucking me. Here I was, bent over, bottom bare and pussy on display. I could just imagine him standing behind me, slowly unzipping, that nasty smile he gets pinned to his face. Then he’d be putting it to me. Fast or slow, I wondered. Did I care? Well yes. I preferred not at all. Were my preferences going to be taken into consideration? There’s a laugh.

Oh my god. He actually slipped a finger past my lips. I took a quick glance at him. He still seemed to be concentrating on the report and he was nearly finished. I only took that quick look and then turned away. I didn’t want to know how far he had to go. At least, he still hadn’t found any errors. That was a plus for me. Something was nagging at me. Something I’d seen but not really registered. I took another glance.

He was sitting there, reading the report. He would drum his fingers on one hand and then the other. Unfortunately, the other was resting on my pussy right then and that drumming was slipping a finger between my lips every so often. Was it deliberate or not? I couldn’t tell. But something had changed.

Suddenly it registered and I swallowed and looked anywhere but at him. He’d pushed his chair back from the desk a little and had unzipped. He had an erection. It was just sticking up under the desk. It didn’t look particularly small, either.

Oh great freaking gods above. He really was going to fuck me. I wondered if he’d even bother to wait until the report was finished. Yes, he would. He’s the type. He’d read the report right up to the last word, ready to give me a good whack on the bottom if he found a mistake. Only then, mistake or no mistake, he would come for me.

I wanted to scream and run. I also wanted to keep my job. Worst of all, I found I wanted to know what it would be like to have him fuck me. It wasn’t as though he was an old man or particularly ugly. He was quite reasonable looking and in the prime of life. When he wanted to apply it he had considerable charisma. What they call an alpha male.

I couldn’t help it. That constant touching was arousing me. I’m quite sure it was deliberate. No-one could tease and rouse a woman that effectively purely by chance. It was all so unfair. I didn’t want to be here, flashing my bare bum and waiting ravishment. The fact that it was my own damn fault didn’t help either.

“Right,” he suddenly said. “That all seems to be OK. It shows that you can do the work if you put your mind to it.”

I’d turned to look at him when he started speaking, my mouth feeling dry. (Unlike my pussy. That was feeling rather wet, damn it.) Mr Wolfe pushed back his chair and stood up and oh, my, god, that was not a small erection, I can assure you.

“With the work out of the way I guess we can now relax a bit,” he said.

I promptly decided that I’d relax in a standing position but I didn’t get very far.

“No need to stand,” he said cheerfully, his hand suddenly feeling a lot heavier. “Just stay just like that.”

Then he was moving behind me and I’m like, oh my god, what do I do, what do I do? I knew just what I was going to do. Stay right where I was while he fucked me. I could almost feel him entering me already.

Then it was no longer almost feel him, but actually feel him, as he just came up and pushed straight into me. No foreplay, just bang! and his cock was sliding into me. And as his cock pushed firmly in I pushed just as firmly back against it, helping it home.

“My, my, it seems as though someone has been anticipating this,” I was informed as Mr Wolfe held my hips lightly in place, his cock firmly wedged inside me. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

One trait that all successful managers seem to have is that they are all energetic men. I suppose that it helps when they’re rushing around, grinding underlings under foot. Apparently all that energy helps in other areas, as well.

Mr Wolfe proceeded to give me the most vigorous fuck I’ve had since forever, I think. Apparently sitting reading a report doesn’t drain off much energy. Neither does the drumming of your fingers against a poor girl’s privates. So Mr Wolfe was currently brimming with unused energy which he was able to use on me.

His cock came charging into me, hitting me so hard I was almost bounced off my feet each time he drove in. Fortunately, leaning over a desk with your panties down while your boss plays with your pussy doesn’t take much energy either, so I was being pretty energetic myself. I was able to push back hard against him, taking him deep without any trouble. He might have made a tight fit in my passage but I was well lubricated and he was sliding back and forth very nicely.

My problem was that he just didn’t stop. He just kept on driving into me, banging hard against me. Thank god the office was empty or everyone would have known what that loud slapping sound was, even without me going “Ah, ah, ah,” in time to the pounding I was getting.

I started of excited and aroused and my arousal just kept building. I’d have thought, the way Mr Wolfe was putting all his energy into what he was doing, that he would finish quickly, probably leaving me hanging. No such thing. Apparently he decided he could run a mile at top speed and he was doing his best to prove it.

The excitement within me was too high. I was expecting to blow my lid at any moment, but it just didn’t happen. My excited “ah, ah, ah,” changed to a desperate, “please, please, please,” and still he kept going. How he was stopping me from climaxing I have no idea, but I know he was.

It seemed to me that I was soon going to be in trouble. (That’s assuming that you don’t consider being bent over the boss’s desk and ravished as already being in trouble.) I had energy and had been demonstrating this fact quite handily in our little clash. What I didn’t have was a lot of stamina. I hadn’t been going to the gym lately and was not in the condition to run a long race. If things kept going at this rate I was going to collapse from exhaustion before I managed to collapse for an orgasm, and if that happened I would be ropable.

I was gasping and panting quite heavily, wondering if getting a second wind applied to sexual gymnastics. I was ever so relieved when Mr Wolfe spoke up.

“You seem to be running out of steam,” he said, sounding quite sympathetic. “Maybe we’d better cut this short.”

Cut it short? He’d already been banging me longer than I’ve ever been fucked before and he considered this was cutting it short? I’d have said something rude but I didn’t have the energy.

Then he did something different, a subtle change in the way he was taking me. All of a sudden my excitement started climbing higher real fast. Then he snapped into express mode. I didn’t have a chance to match him. I just climaxed, wrapping myself around his cock and hanging on while my climax had free rein.

Now I had a legitimate excuse to sag down against the desk and I did so, absolutely spent.

After I had recovered enough to be able to think logically, I had it out with him. I couldn’t have him just jumping me like that when he wanted to have sex, and so I told him. I just wasn’t in the right sort of condition to handle the sort of sexual gymnastics he seemed to prefer. Would you believe he just pointed out that there was a gym in the building, and suggested that I start using it.

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