Three Spanking Novellas

Joanna’s Escapades-4

But she couldn’t think too much about it, not yet, she had far too much work to do, and her job to rescue.

When It Began . . .

There were a blue billion stars spilling across the night sky. She’d remember it that way, how expansive was the sky, how the air smelled of lilac and honeysuckle, spring lingering in the air even though the season was fast giving way to summer. It was sweetly warm, dew beginning to appear on the estate lawn. Seeing the sky and the sparkling grass below, Joanna couldn’t imagine anything more exquisite than this place. Something out of a fairy tale.

It was hard for her to imagine living in such a home, but then it wouldn’t be hard to get used to it.

So far, in twenty eight years, she was well on her way to a terrific career, but falling quite short of a storybook romance that would find her living in this kind of plush surroundings.

She’d had several interesting affairs, but nothing that knocked her socks off. There was just not the right sort of man available. Then again, what was the right sort of man for her? she wondered. She had about decided the storybook romances were simply unrealistic.

From the dining room French doors, Miles Jamison stared out to the patio, looking at the voluptuous blonde Joanna. Of all the women at the party she was by far the most interesting, the most beautiful in his eyes. She wasn’t picture perfect, but she had exquisite features that he could literally gaze at for hours. Her face was soft, her eyes wide and bright—the biggest he’d ever seen—and her mouth was . . . kissable. Yes, kissable was the perfect adjective.

And legs! What great legs! She belonged in short tight skirts that would show off their fine slim shape, her well rounded hips, and that spankable ass!

If he was not mistaken, Joanna might even have the disposition for such things as spanking. Few women did, so he’d discovered, but Joanna just might be one of those.

She was his employee, down the executive ladder a bit, to be sure; but he was well aware that she was turning into a valuable asset to his corporation. In the past, he hadn’t paid much attention to her, except when he was making his weekly trek through the corporate offices. Then, she always stuck out, attracting his immediate attention with her lovely bottom catching his eye, just as it caught his eye now.

“Good evening, Joanna,” Miles said.

The pretty blonde turned around, startled.

“Mr. Jamison?”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Oh, my yes, you have a beautiful home,” she replied, feeling a little self conscious having been discovered in her moment of quiet repose. She looked at the company president, a tiny bit of fear suddenly traipsing through her.

The fact was, Miles Jamison always startled her. He was imposing even frightening, though now he gazed on her so kindly, there should be no need for trepidation. Perhaps this different attitude was because this was his house, this his social event, the yearly company party. Usually, Miles would sweep into the office as if he were on a mission. With the authority of a four star general, he barked orders, his piercing eyes assaulting anyone who was in his presence. Autocratic, no nonsense, demanding, no one, not even his Board of Directors, dared cross him.

He always knew exactly what he wanted and implemented his decisions as if they were divine law. He expected the world, at the very least his company top to bottom, to comply without question.

He was occasionally referred to as “the old bear”, “his highness”, “the grand duke.”

Yet he was not old, more likely described as ageless. And he was hardly royal looking in jeans and boots.

He much preferred to spend his time tinkering in his factory, than wasting time listening to executives whine at headquarters. He expected his offices to function the same as his well oiled machines; and if they didn’t, he’d tinker with the components until they did once more.

Now, in this softer setting, beneath a romantic moon, and in the light of a dazzling party, he seemed so different. Looking so sweetly at her, Joanna wondered if she was looking at the same man who had such power to terrorize his flock of workers.

“I’m glad you like the party.” He turned looking in the window at the gay affair. “Is there something I can get you?” he asked.

“Oh my no, I’m just enjoying your gardens. They’re lovely, no doubt breathtaking in daylight.

She was trembling. Maybe it was just that she always trembled around the man, for he was certainly giving her no reason to now.

“I keep them meticulously, perhaps you should come see them in the day.”

“You know I’d love to run across the grass, let my bare feet melt into the dew,” she exclaimed.

“Is that so?” he looked at her amused. “I’d probably have to spank you for that! I don’t let anyone disturb my creations.”

Joanna was taken aback by his warning, though he gave it in such a light hearted way, that she could do nothing but let it pass. Yet curiously, his statement only made her quake all the more.

“Listen, the music is getting started again,” she said. “I think I’ll go in and dance a bit, if you don’t mind, Mr. Jamison.”

“The only thing I mind is your calling me Mr. Jamison,” he said with charming smile.

“Habit, I’m sure,” Joanna replied. Her cheeks were burning for no reason. Few men rattled her, but this one did.

She walked toward the door as he escorted her inside, a hand on her back graciously guiding her. They parted company immediately, Miles attending to his other guests, Joanna dancing with other mid management employees of her rank.

Miles had spared no expense to be certain; the party was perfect. The buffet was lavish, the liquor flowed freely, and the music hit a spectrum to suit everyone’s taste. As the evening wore on, Joanna found that dancing to some 60’s rock and roll was a glorious escape. She forgot about work and the incessant pressure of her job. Even here with her co-workers in the company president’s house, she lost herself in the seductive feel of the night.

Strangely though, her brief conversation with Miles Jamison had shaken her more than she realized. In little more than a half hour, she downed two scotch and cokes to thwart the unexplainable feelings that had suddenly been kicked off inside her. The drink made her feel positively giddy, and that was good, or so she thought.

When she unexpectedly felt two strong hands at her waist she was nearly knocked off her feet. She turned to see Miles planted behind her with a oddly stern look on his face.

“I see you’re enjoying the music,” he said.

“Oh, my yes,” she gushed effusively.

He grabbed her in his arms and they were dancing close.

She could feel his warm breath on her face, his warm arms around her, one hand falling to rest lightly on her bottom. Her s****l heat was all of a sudden soaring madly. She fought with her inebriation, wanting above all, to remain calm and in control of herself, while her boss was whisking her across the floor. He had a terrific swagger to his hips, and pressed groin to groin, she couldn’t stop the crazy desire running rampant through her body.

When the dance was over, they remained locked together for an instant. He smiled down at her with the most winsome expression. She couldn’t fathom what it might mean. Then he was off, and Joanna was soon at the bar again for another drink.

“You sure are getting cozy with Mr. Jamison,” Amanda from the 5th floor purred in her ear.

“Yeah,” Joanna said, absently. She stared out at the dancers. Miles was with another female employee, looking as exuberantly at his new partner as he had at her. Maybe she was reading too much into his softly seductive manner, just being gracious for his guests.

“He’s quite a dancer,” Amanda said, trying to make conversation.

“Have you danced with him?” Joanna asked.

“No, he seems to be making the rounds now, but you were obviously special.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake no,” Joanna exclaimed disbelieving her.

“Oh, but you were, you should have seen the way he looked at you, for that matter, the way you looked backed at him. Everyone saw it.”

“Amanda, stop it!” Joanna demanded. “It was just a dance.”

The woman raised her eyebrows, not believing a thing that she said.

For good measure, Joanna downed another drink. When there was something she wanted tucked away out of her mind, the booze was the perfect place to hide it. Her head was brimming, intoxicated, so she was almost feeling as if she’d float away.

Joanna danced for an hour or two more, until it was nearly . Then, with her limbs hopelessly weary, she leaned against a door post to rest. There were still dozens on the dance floor, but she was too weak to join them. Her head was swimming, and her stomach was feeling just a bit off; she knew she’d had more to drink than she’d was used to. She needed to rest.

Practically nodding off, Joanna felt someone against her. “Joanna,” the voice knocked her out of her blank stupor.

She jumped, almost falling down. He caught her.

“Mr. Jamison,” she said looking up at him flustered. His face was just a little blurry to her eyes.

“You all right?” he asked, looking very concerned.

“Oh, I’m fine, I’m just a little woozy. I’m going to settle down here a bit, then I think I’d better go home.”

“A good idea I’d say,” he replied.

Then she wondered how she sounded to him, her voice seemed so far away. Had he noticed how drunk she was?

“Who’s your ride?” he asked.

“Oh, I have my car,” she told him, trying desperately to stand up straight.

“Then you’re going no where,” he said firmly.

“Oh, no, I’m fine, just a little rest, I’m not drunk if that’s what you think.” She tried sounding just a little incensed.

“Oh, but you are Joanna.” He was still being kind, but he was determined.

“Mr. Jamison, I’ll be fine, if you had a couch I could relax on for a few minutes, I recoup very quickly.”

“Yes, you’ll recoup, but you’re not driving home and that’s that. You’ll stay here.”

“I can’t stay here,” she protested.

“Yes you can, if I have to tie you down!” That stern command she was so used to from a dozen corporate meetings returned to his voice. This time however, there was a threatening glint in his eye meant for her alone.

“My god, Mr. Jamison, that wouldn’t be right!” She was slurring her words, and she knew it now. He only became more adamant.

“Perhaps some incentive would be in order,” he replied bristling. He grabbed her arm firmly, so she could feel his hand like steel bearing down on her.

“Like what!”

They were at the doorway of a private parlor, and with one quick movement Miles pushed open the door, and the two slipped out of sight and hearing. Joanna found herself alone with Miles in a small quiet room.

“Frankly, Joanna, I think you need a good paddling.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Joanna charged.

“Don’t test me!” Miles warned. “You’ll stay here the night, sleep off your liquor and then, when you’re sober, you can drive your car again. Is that understood?”

“I’m sure I can find someone to drive me home,” she replied. She presented the alternate plan with a sober tongue; but he wasn’t impressed by the force of will that opposed him. In her state of mind and body, she hardly had any power over her words, let alone her behavior, or the next few hours of her life.

“Upstairs,” he said. “I’m not going to waste anymore words.”

Loosing the fight and knowing it, she gave in. She was too inebriated to argue anymore. Too off balance, she practically fell into his arms as he led her through the room, across the hallway, to the staircase. She could still hear the sounds of the party, the music, and her co-workers chattering. She would have loved to have joined them again; but the staircase was whirling, and the lights and the glitter of the room were blending into one twinkling blur in front of her face. She nearly passed out.

She mounted the staircase, blindly led by a man that terrified her ninety-nine percent of the time. For this instant however, there was something comforting about his arm around her, as if he actually cared for her. That was stupid, she thought. Nonetheless she acquiesced to him, knowing that she was depending on his control of the situation, her conscience rising enough to remind her that she was better off sleeping here, than trying to make her way home.