Three Spanking Novellas

Joanna’s Escapades-5

Her head swam back and forth from thought to thought. She was glad he was holding her so tightly, she would never have made it anywhere on her own. Submitting herself to him, there was only a fleeting thought as to what would happen between them when she was sober again.

Miles showed her to a small but beautifully furnished bedroom. At least what she could really see of the room, it looked as classy as every other room in the house.

Not allowing any argument, Miles led her to the bed.

“You want your clothes on, or do you sleep without them?”

She wasn’t so drunk that she didn’t look at him in shock.

“You want your clothes on or not?” he repeated.

“Are you going to take advantage of me?” she asked.

“No,” he replied sternly.

She gazed up at his eyes that looked much like daggers. Even in her stupor, she found his intense energy grabbing her right between her legs.

“I don’t take advantage of women, especially in your state of mind. The best s*x is sober s*x,” he informed her. His once jovial demeanor, was now a more familiar icy cold.

Joanna knew she should be feeling humiliated and guilty; but she was suddenly far too weary and drunk to bother. Sinking into sleep was salvation. Sinking into the comfy cushion of the bed, she passed out.

***

In the morning Joanna’s eyes popped open.

Sunlight bolted across her bed in window pane shapes, the warmth caressing her uncovered thighs.

It would have been a glorious morning except for a headache and a horrible pounding in her stomach. She was afraid she was going to be sick.

Glancing at the clock beside the bed, it indicated .

“My God.” She shot out of bed in an instant, then quickly fell back down. She was about to throw up.

She laid for some moments considering the predicament. “I’ve got to get my bearings.” As she waited for her stomach to settle, she looked down at her body, realizing that she was wearing only a bra and panties. Her dress was neatly folded on a chair by the bed. She hadn’t remembered taking it off. She certainly would have left it in a heap on the floor if she had. Miles must have done the duty.

“My god, he’s seen me nearly naked.”

Was is possible at this hour to slip out of the house unnoticed? Was Miles even there?

“I should probably go see him, but my stomach!” she told herself.

She grabbed her stomach and massaged it gently.

“I haven’t done anything this foolish in years, my god, why now?”

It could be her whole career was on the line. She tried to recall the conversation that had brought her to this room the night before. But all she could remember was the cantankerous flippancy in her voice, as she had tried to counter Miles with stupid reasoning, and an ungracious acceptance of his invitation to sleep off her mistake.

Joanna finally rose when her stomach seemed strong enough to tolerate the movement. She showered quickly in the connecting bathroom, and because she had nothing else to wear, she put on the silvery cocktail dress she’d worn the night before. It would look silly at on Saturday morning, but what else could she do?

Her hose were ruined, but she put them on anyway, and managed to find enough make-up in her purse to keep her face from looking as horrible as she felt.

She had to stop every few minutes to catch her breath and settle her nausea. “If only I had a cracker,” she thought. “Juice, anything.”

Finished getting dressed, she gathered her wits about her to see what fate might be waiting for her.

Her surroundings were quite unfamiliar to her as she made her cautious journey to the first floor of the house. Her lack of memory for detail was only another reminder of her intoxication the night before. Finding the stairs, she carefully descended, realizing that she was still a little woozy. At the bottom of the staircase, she found herself in a grand foyer, uncertain where to turn.

Perhaps she should have just slipped out the door and gone on her merry way; perhaps if she had, another story would have been written for the next few years of her life. But an angel, or rogue—depending on how you view it—intervened.

“May I help you,” Miles’s maid interrupted her bewildered deliberations.

Joanna turned to her. “I need to speak to Mr. Jamison,” she stated loud and clear. Her better self knew that she’d damn well better buck up for one hell of an apology.

“Mr. Jamison is in his study,” the maid politely replied.

“Damn,” she thought to herself. She had hoped he wouldn’t be there at all, it would have saved her, at least for the moment. But then, there was work the next Monday, or whenever she saw him again. Some things were best not put off.

The maid led Joanna into Miles Jamison’s study just opposite the staircase. To her dismay, she found him in the presence of two other men. The trio looked intent on business of some sort. She recognized neither of the others, but by a quick piece of conversation that drifted her way before they stopped and turned to her, she suspected they were connected with the company.

“Joanna,” Miles addressed her pleasantly. “Please come in.”

She approached his desk cautiously, realizing that her stomach was in the midst of another round of flip-flops; and despite his affable grin, she was shaking like a leaf from head to toe.

“Mr. Jamison,” she addressed him with as much aplomb as she could muster.

“Miles, please,” he corrected her.

“Miles,” she said, thinking no one at work dared call him that.

“I trust you’re rested,” he inquired.

“Yes, very much so, and thank you for allowing me to…“crash” in your house.” Stupid word, she thought, but she couldn’t take it back.

He nodded in reply.

“I do need to apologize for last night,” she continued, she was turning to jelly right there in her three inch heels. “I haven’t been that . . . . “ she couldn’t find the right word.

“Drunk?” Miles suggested to fill in the awkward gap.

“Yes.” She was blushing. “I haven’t been that drunk in years, really.” Somehow she figured it was time to plead with him. “I’m very sorry, it was a stupid miscalculation.”

“I appreciate your apology, Joanna,” Miles said. “You’re quite right in your appraisal of your behavior last night; but to get out of this mess you’re in, I need something more than just an apology.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“Your ass over my knee,” he told her.

Like video clips, memories of the previous night played before her eyes. Twice he’d mentioned it.

“You’re going to spank me?” If her blush had been pink before, it was crimson now.

He raised his eyebrows, but was silent.

She gulped. “You’re serious,” she said.

“You have a lot on the line here Joanna,” he said. He didn’t let her miss the meaning: there was not a soul on the face of the planet that controlled her fate more than Miles Jamison did right now—except perhaps for herself. “Your behavior last night was inexcusable. The drinking aside, your intention to drive intoxicated was utterly foolish. And your petulant attitude toward someone who had your best interests at heart was ill-advised.” He was looking angered as he spoke, though he didn’t raise his voice, it just grew colder and more threatening with each word.

“I really am terribly sorry about that, I was very foolish. Certainly we can settle this another way?”

He considered her for some seconds, but did not relent. “I’m afraid not,” he announced.

“Please Miles, this is really ridiculous.” She was not beyond begging. It was her only recourse, the man was totally sincere. She wondered for an instant, if it wasn’t just some crazy joke and he’d suddenly shout out “April Fool’s!” and they’d all be laughing. But it wasn’t April first, and Miles was hardly kidding.

He didn’t speak to her again. Rather he addressed the other men. “Excuse me please gentlemen, we have a mid-management employee that needs to be taught a lesson.”

The two men nodded, their interest noticeably peaked. Joanna looked from Miles to the men and back to Miles again.

In seconds she was swept up off her feet, Miles settling quickly into a chair, his naughty employee over his lap. He held her fast with his arm about her waist so that she couldn’t move. Then, with feverish abandon his hand came down on her bottom with a blast of vigorous slaps.

“Yeow! Ouch!” she cried.

He hadn’t hurt her yet, the spanking only smarting at first. But with each new slap, the feelings were becoming more acute.

“Ouch, dammit stop!” she wailed incensed. She couldn’t believe that she was being paddled by her boss, right in front of two other men. She was mortified; but he gave her little time to ponder her plight, as one fierce smack after another was applied to her rear cheeks. A fine burning sensation was rising wickedly on her fanny; and she was afraid that he wasn’t going to stop until it was hot beyond belief.

His hand came down with sure steady strokes, covering every inch of her rear cheeks, from top to bottom and side to side.

“Gawd, no!” she gasped as one particularly nasty smack landed in the center of her tender ass.

Please, please, Miles. I’m so sorry.” She tried pleading. The pain was getting worse, almost unbearable.

As Miles spanked his naughty employee, he knew the punishment stung. But since the spanking was over top of her clothes, he knew it couldn’t be hurting her too badly. He’d spanked many a young woman and this was hardly what he’d call severe; though he doubted, by Joanna’s noisy protests, that she’d believe that. He did apply his punishment with a hearty zeal, making certain that she’d get his message. He might have applied a paddle, or even have administered this bare bottomed; but for first time, the shock alone should be enough to steer the young woman in a more suitable path.

“Dammit stop!” she blared loudly. She was kicking her legs madly, as if that somehow made it hurt less.

“You hush yourself!” he blared back. “Or this will last all morning! And stop those legs. If you kick me, I’ll pull up your dress and do this on your naked ass!” “She’s a lusty one,” he thought.

He could imagine loving her. Even in her drunken stupor, she was a delicious woman, full of spirit and fun, and the kind of crazy exuberance that would complement his own calm reserve. She was a damned good employee, with a terrific career. No, he had no doubts that Joanna needed this little reminder to keep her on track. He never could tell when he might want her around for more than just business reasons.

Smack! The sound was heavenly to his ears.

“Yeow!” she protested every hearty slap, though she managed to squelch some of her wiggling and volume of her cries. She was doing her damnedest to comply!

Her bottom was bouncing deliciously. Miles watched it jump and jiggle underneath her dress. He could even see the outline of the two fair cheeks. The crack. Yes, next time, he’d have them naked on his lap. He imagined the blush, the pink to red, the imprint of his hand, or whatever instrument he used. He could even imagine sending her to the corner, pants down for an even greater humiliation. Yes, that would be a fine addition to this session, he thought, as he realized what a particular advantage it was having an attentive audience.

The two men watching the show looked on amazed; even though little amazed them about Miles. He was completely creative with his company, his employees and his love life. The two had heard of his novel ways of taming those that countered him too brashly. “Always for their own good,” he’d been known to say. Yet the spectators had thought it was only rumors, another piece in the puzzle of the man’s frightful aura. Now they knew differently. The two were smug, thinking what juicy gossip this would be in just the right circles.

They watched Miles hand and his attentive determined face. They gazed on the girl, watching her anguished scowl, listening to her poor pitiful pleas. What a sight!

Miles unleashed a particularly nasty string of smacks against Joanna’s bottom, and she was nearly at her limit.

“Oh my god, pleeeese stop,” she pleaded wearily.

Miles issued a few more brusque slaps, this time against the top of her thighs where it was skin to skin, no dress to obstruct the impact. He did that to remind the dear Joanna what it might feel like if she were indeed bare bottomed.