by Caliann

It had been a very rough day. I was sitting at my desk, staring into my computer monitor, wondering just HOW I was going to manage to schedule *both* of my current projects with the design department so that they would be ready by deadline. So far, no genie had popped out of my spreadsheets to tell me the answer to that question and I was sure my eyes were turning square. It was six o'clock and I didn't look any closer to my answers than I was at nine this morning.

That is when my Master walked into my office.

Master and I have an interesting arrangement because he is head of the accounting department while I direct research and development. This generally means that ours paths do not normally cross during working hours, except at the end of the quarter. Although I do keep an open-door policy for my office, it is not often I see him walk through that door. The look on his face told me that this was not meant to be a pleasant surprise.

His first words to me, coupled by pointing to the reports in his hand, told me I was correct in that assumption.

"You went over budget on the Adam's Project. How did you manage to do that? Do you *realize* what you have done to the books on THIS one?"

I was not ready for this. This was NOT the sort of confrontation I needed when I had two projects staring at me accusingly from my monitor. I turned my chair to face him, removed my glasses and started rubbing my eyes, not even looking at him, when I replied.

"Oh...no-no-no-no-no-no-no! You are NOT coming into my office like this. You are NOT standing there complaining at me about budgets that were misguided to begin with. This is NOT happening!"

The sound of a "CLICK" caused me to stop rubbing my eyes and look up. Seeing the look on my Master's face next to the closed door caused an entirely different set of emotions.

It is hard to explain, dear reader, those emotions, but I will try. Imagine yourself as a sky diver. Imagine that you are at the door to
a plane, parachute on, and you have JUST stepped out. One foot is still on the plane, the other foot is in empty air. JUST as you
reach the "point of no return"...that point where you still have one foot on the plane, but there is no way you can fail to leave said
plane, a certain, VERY important realization hits you: You forgot to attach the cord to your parachute.

That, dear reader, is EXACTLY how I felt when I saw my Master's face. There was no anger there...just a hard coldness. I knew why that expression was there.

It was not that I had argued with him. Whenever it is time to come up with the next quarter's budgets, I argue with him. It was because I had told HIM what he would or would not do...and I knew better. He is NOT in my chain of command and there was no reason for me to speak to him that way.

Hard on the heels of this wondrous epiphany came fear. Master simply put his papers down on my desk and unfastened the belt he always wears. When he unfastens his belt to get ready for bed, I experience a certain fear, as it is one of those country style belts with the large buckle. Not a plate platter, but still of a size. Today, it evoked sheer terror and I could not stop myself from responding to that terror.

I don't remember scrambling out of my chair, but I must have, because the next thing I knew Master was walking around my desk, belt in hand, and I was backing away...right up until I hit the wall. Then I just stared at him. Master never said a word. He stopped at my chair, put the belt on my desk, then sat down in it and looked at me.

That was when the realization hit me that I had compounded my transgression. I also know better than to run away from punishment. This was not a conscious thing on my part, as I *was* only reacting to my own fear. Nor did I run far, as I have a small office, so I was only about 5 feet away. It never occurred to me to try and bolt for the door, not only because that WOULD be running away, but also because there was about 6' of unpleased Master between myself and it.

So I did what my instincts dictated when faced with a situation like this. I stood there and stared at him, paralyzed with terror.

Master looked at me for a moment longer then pointed to the floor at his feet and snapped his fingers. I knew the command, I was to come to him.

Dear readers, although I do know this sounds extremely childish, it was with extreme slowness that I approached my Master. I am absolutely positive that six month old babies are capable of taking larger steps than I did at that time. However, when I got the
command of "Now!", I practically flew to the floor at his feet. I couldn't dare to look up and see the look on his face. I didn't WANT
to see the look on his face.

When he patted his thighs, I did look up though, to see that expression was just as hard as before. I knew the gestured command: that I was to place myself across his lap. I also knew that Master *knows* that is one of the few things I have never been able to force myself to do, as much as I have tried. I have not been able to figure out if it is the intimacy of such an act that makes me incapable of accomplishing it or if it is some long-buried childhood memory that makes my body not obey my will in this situation. Whatever the reason, it has always been an embarrassment to me. Such a simple act that I have not been able to do!

It was no different this time as I stared at my Master's thighs and tried to force myself to move into the required position. My body trembling more with effort than with fear, I finally whispered "Master, please help me."

It was a sense of relief I experienced as I felt my Master's hand grab my hair and yank me across his lap. My fear did not even truly reassert itself, as just the horrid emotions I felt at not being able to obey were alleviated, the thought of mere pain paled in comparison.

Master raised my business skirt up to my waist and I felt his hand on the lace strip of the garter type panty hose that I normally wear at work. Perhaps you, dear reader, are familiar with the type? They look like a garter belt and hose attached, but they are all one piece of nylon. Those, with a pair of thong panties are my normal work undergarments.

My sense of relief was completely wiped away when the first strike of the belt came down. This was not a tender warm-up for things to come, this HURT. It was followed quickly by a second, then third.....then it all started to feel like a rain of blows on my ass and thighs.

Now I do have a rather high tolerance for pain and often pride myself on being able, silently and without motion, to take rather strong use. However, I was not accustomed to such an onslaught of my body, nor such force from the very beginning. It was not too long before I could not help myself and started trying to wriggle away from the blows. Honestly, I did not WANT to, but I could not help myself.

When I could not bear it any longer, I tried to block the blows with my hands. This got both of my hands caught and pinned to the small of my back. Still, that horrid belt kept coming. When I tried to block the blows with my feet, Master took his leg and swung it over the joint of my knees, effectively pinning them. I cannot be sure, but I don't think he ever missed a stroke during the process.

This was when Master spoke. Perhaps it was the timing that was so frightening or perhaps it was the fact that his voice was soft and controlled. it might have even been the actual words, but it made me know that this was not close to finished.

"Tell me what I will or will not do, will you girl? Run away from me, will you?"

By this time, my ass and thighs felt like fire, and every blow with that belt felt like a brand. I was past whimpering, I was nearly
yelling.

"PLEASE, Master, PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!"

The only answer I received from him was " I am not damaging you, girl."

Dear reader, you may have to ask my Master, but I do believe that was the last coherent words I uttered. After that, all I could do was scream. In hindsight, I am glad it was after hours and everyone had gone home for the day, for it is certainly not a situation I would wish to have half the office barge in upon. Then again, would it have been better or worse for me if Master had decided to postpone it until we had returned home?

It was not too very long before I did not even have the voice to scream anymore. All I could do was sob and cry. I felt like my
entire existence was a cadence of flame. In my mind, it had gone on forever and would continue through eternity. I didn't even have enough thought left to beg.

I cannot tell you when or how it stopped, because it blurs for me. All I know is that it did and somehow I wound up right side up on Master's lap, sobbing into his chest, with his arms around me. His voice was quiet still, but not hard.

"It's all right now, girl, it's all over. It's all right."

It was all right. I am not sure how to explain, but I think, at that moment in time being curled up on Master's lap, sobbing into his
chest, with his hand gently wiping away my tears, I would not have minded if the world ended right then. It was all right.

It was sometime later, after all the tears were dried and I was somewhere near human again, when Master reached over the desk, took his papers and smiled down at me.

"Now........about this budget....."