From: email@example.com (MissLilyO) Subject: New Story: BEHIND EVERY GREAT MAN by MissLilyO, F/M, sex Date: 16 Dec 1996 15:38:24 GMT
Hi, guys! This story contains F/M spankings (reluctantly consentual),
sexual toys, and sexual references (gasp!). Clearly, then, if you're 18
or younger, you should go play Nintendo, as this isn't intendo for you.
If you're older, and you like this sorta thing.....I hope you enjoy it.
The department heads squirmed in their seats as the tongue- lashing went on and on. To hear him tell it, they'd all better be dusting off their resumes. He paused in his stalking about the room, chewing them out.
"Well, what are you all sitting here for? Get back to work, all of you! We have deadlines to meet! And if you know what's good for you, you'll MEET THEM!"
His normally florid face was even more flushed than usual, and a vein throbbed alarmingly at his temple. Those gathered at the big table didn't wait to be told twice, but fled the Board Room.
Grummels stopped Elvin in the hallway. "The Old Man is fit to be tied. I've never seen him this bad before!"
Elvin snorted. "You have a short memory, pal. Remember last year about this time?"
Grummels gave him a wry grin. "I guess you're right, Elvin. I think it's time we called in reinforcements."
"You're not thinking what I'm thinking, are you?"
"I don't see that we have any choice. If he doesn't settle down, he'll have a stroke or something and then we'd be up the creek permanently! And if HE doesn't, the troops will. Morale has never been so low. I can't get anybody enthused about their jobs. There's been talk of a walk out from the whole factory floor. We just can't risk it going on like this. I'm gonna call her."
"There'll be hell to pay later," Elvin cautioned.
"Well, been there, done that, I guess," replied Grummels ruefully. "Where exactly is she again?"
"Florida. Sarasota, I think. I have the number upstairs. I'll get it for you."
"The paint looks shabby!" cried the Old Man. "You think we can send out junk like this?" He threw the part back in the face of the short man with the paint brush in his hand, who had to duck to avoid getting conked with it.
"I'm sorry, Sir," he said, timidly.
"Sorry doesn't cut it. Now repaint that whole ..."
He stopped mid-sentence as her perfume wafted into his nostrils. Freezing in his tracks he was afraid to turn around. Could it be his imagination? But no. She cleared her throat softly.
"What's going on here?" she asked with menacing calm.
Turning, he felt his heart leap with familiar excitement at his wife's extraordinary beauty. She stood before him in a form fitting leather jumpsuit, her tall leggy beauty accentuated by high heeled boots. The shining black hair fell loosely around her shoulders and contrasted with the stunning white coat that was nearly floorlength. "Darling! I...I didn't expect to see you so soon! I thought you wanted to stay in Florida for a few more days."
"Clearly you didn't expect to see me. I asked you a question. What is going on here? You're screaming at the staff?"
"Oh, it's nothing, love. Honest! I was a little impatient, that's all."
"Impatient, is it? That's not what I hear. You're out of control again, and I see it's time for a little reminder before everyone has had a bellyful of your tantrums and walks out on you. Get upstairs. Now."
The workers turned away from their boss, hiding their smiles of satisfaction at his dressing down. Now the old bastard was going to get his comeuppance. Actually, they all liked him a lot and most had been with him for many years, but sometimes he got like this, especially around this time of year, and they dreaded his towering temper. If it wasn't for the Mrs., they'd have all left long before. She'd settle him right down, and he'd be his old self before morning, guaranteed!
He hastened up the stairs. "Now, honey, don't be like this. Everything's going along just fine. You didn't need to come home!"
"Don't make me tell you again. Get upstairs. I want that chubby butt naked, you in the corner holding the hairbrush, is that clear? I'm going to paddle you within an inch of your life! It's the only way to get it through your head that this behavior is absolutely unacceptable, little man. NOW! Upstairs."
He climbed another flight up to their bedroom. She paused in the library to shrug out of her coat and take a spot of brandy before following him up. Knowing how the anticipation would build if he had to wait long in the corner with his pants pulled down and his pink bottom exposed, she took her time in sniffing the mellow liquid before letting its warming fire slide down her throat. Scooping to pick up the black leather bag, she ascended the stairs slowly, her elegant muscles outlined by the leather like a second skin.
He heard her come into their bedroom, but he dared not turn around or his punishment would be so much worse. She smiled at his obvious discomfort and unzipped the leather suit a little to allow the swell of her upthrust breasts to tantalize him a bit. "All right. Get over here. We'll start on this naughty ass right now. Over my knees."
She sat well back on the bed, her long legs parted slightly to give him good support. He lay over her lap obediently, his torso supported on the bed. Shifting so that his bottom was lifted a little higher, she put her hand on his back. "Don't reach back and cover that butt or I'll make you wish you hadn't. You'll be paddled, cropped and caned. And then you'll march your bare butt back down to the factory and apologize to everyone. I'll give you your final spanking there, so all the people you've treated so harshly will have the satisfaction of knowing you're not above being corrected when you act up, is that clear?"
"Ohhhhhh, NOOOO! Please, not that! I'll apologize, but please don't spank me in front of everyone! They'll never have any respect for me!"
"They'll have a lot more respect for you than they have now. Throwing a fit like some bratty little school boy who doesn't get his own way! Hmmmph! Oh, you'll get a spanking, don't think you won't!"
With that she smacked his bottom with her open palm, enjoying the way his round bum flattened and then plumped, her hand leaving a rosy print behind. He made a small noise, but didn't try to stop her. Again, she brought her hand down. She knew it didn't really hurt. Yet. But it was embarrassing for this important and powerful man to be across her knee like a bad little boy getting his bare tush smacked. At last, he was squirming as she slowly banked the fires. Reaching for the hairbrush, she moved to stage two of his punishment.
Now he was crying out at each blazing spank. She was talented, bringing the brush sizzling down on the tender sit spots, rewarded with the jiggling of his rounded cheeks, and a lovely crimson blush covering every square inch of his bottom. Soon he was crying for real, begging her to stop.
When she deemed he'd had enough of the brush, she bade him get up and go stand back in the corner with his hands on his head. She knew he'd want to rub his poor spanked cheeks, and maybe even let his hands stray to his front, where his body betrayed him by standing up like a happy toy soldier in salute. But he dared not disobey his wife, especially when she was in this sort of mood.
He sniffled a little, feeling royally sorry for himself. She was SO gorgeous! He knew he was lucky to have a magnificent woman like her. And he knew she had been right. He did let the pressure get to him, and he realized he'd been hard on those who had been loyal to him for so long. The shame and excitement dueled with each other, causing him to squirm even more. And then he heard her unzipping the bag, and his throbbing flesh quickened.
"Get over here on the bed on your hands and knees," she ordered. As he hastened to obey her, she pushed his knees wider apart. "That's it. Get that fanny high up in the air. Let's see how bossy you are NOW!" And with that, she sent the little tab flicking through the air. It kissed the outside of his hip and bit his tender flesh.
"OWWWW!" he yelped.
"Oh, we're just beginning," she promised. Again the crop flicked and caught him on the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to the heavy sacs hanging there. Again, he squealed in pain. She was an artist, and knew just the spots to land on, causing him to writhe in exquisite discomfort. On and on she pressed, till she knew he was at his limit.
Walking around to the other side of the bed, she pulled the zipper down a little more, showing him a sensational view of her round white breasts with the red tips standing at attention. Spanking him always did arouse her. Soon she would need release, but there was more awaiting her recalcitrant husband. For his part, he was mesmerized by her face and form. Her high cheekbones gave her a patrician look, the ice blue of her eyes were the reflection of centuries old glaciers, her gleaming hair an ebony adornment setting off the perfection of her ivory complexion. Her tight bottom twitched invitingly in the confines of the leather, her waist so tiny he could put his hands around her. God, she was a sensation!
When she was sure he'd gotten his eyes full, she told him to go stand at the chair before her vanity table.
Slowly, reluctantly, he got to his feet. His bottom was ablaze with the fire of his punishment. "Over the back of the chair. NOW!" she commanded. And he did as he was bid.
Her foot kicked at his ankles lightly, telling him to move his legs more widely apart. She knew this vulnerable stance would heighten his punishment. Opening the bag once more, she pulled out a wicked little toy, a small plug with a wide flange at one end. Liberally lubricating it, she applied some more of the gel to his winking little pucker. He gasped, and shot up from his bent-over position. "NOOO! Not that!" he pleaded.
Her answer was to swing the whippy cane across his upper thighs, bringing a high-pitched cry from his lips. "Yes, *that*, she said. "I want you to feel this inside as well as out!"
Reduced to tears now, he bent back over the chair, knowing defiance was hopeless. Slowly, and actually very gently, she pressed the slender end of the plug to him, pressing lightly till he accepted it. Patiently, she pressed, until she felt him relax and then the plug was home, buried firmly in him. "My, what a lewd sight you make, darling, with this naughty toy peeking out of your bright red bottom!" she taunted. "And now, six strokes of the cane."
His only answer was a low-throated moan as he tensed waiting for the first searing bite of the cane. It sang through the air, hitting his ears before hitting his bare bottom. The pain cut through every other sensation, bringing his whole focus to a thin red line across the widest part of his cheeks. WHIP! Another line added to the chorus of fire. WHISTLEWHIP! Again. He thrashed about, pressing himself into the fabric of the chair. Had he ever been so hard in all his life? And then it was over, and he collapsed, sobbing.
At last, she helped him to stand and drew him into an embrace, leaning down to kiss his sweet red lips, and brushing his tears away. "There, there, my love. You took your punishment like such a good boy. You soon shall have your reward. I'm very proud of you. I know you're under so much stress, honey, but you simply have to learn to behave and treat the people who care about you with a little more respect." She gently slipped the plug from his throbbing bottom. "That's why I have to punish you, you know that don't you?"
He nodded, feeling her love surround him, helping him refocus his energies. "I've been an idiot, my darling. I know I needed this. Thank you."
"Well, you can thank me later, darling. We still have that little matter to attend to downstairs."
"Oh, pleeeeese! Not that! I can't take any more. Look at my ass. It's sooo sore. Please, honey, I know I was wrong and I'll go down presently and make my apologies to everyone. Just don't spank me in front of them."
"This is not a debate, dear. You will go downstairs, and you will be spanked, and you will apologize. Then we'll see about restoring your mood." Her last words were purred in sultry promise. She helped him pull on a warm red flannel robe, and took his hand, leading him downstairs. He was blushing furiously, dreading the looks on the faces of everyone as he was humiliated in front of them.
The factory was abuzz with activity, and he was surprised at how much had been accomplished by his team while he'd been upstairs getting spanked. All motion came to an abrupt halt as the tall beauty led her humbled husband down.
"Excuse me, everyone," she said, her warm, throaty voice full of quiet authority. "My husband has been under a great deal of strain these past few weeks, and I fear you've all felt the effects of his temper. He has something he'd like to say to you."
The workers and department heads looked on in stunned silence as their boss struggled to hang on to his composure. Tear streaks still traversed his glowing cheeks, and he looked thoroughly chagrined. "Uh, I...I owe you all an apology for ...for my behavior lately. I don't know what I could have been thinking. You've all been just wonderful, and our success is because of all of you and your hard efforts. Please forgive me. I do love you all and sincerely am sorry for being such an s.o.b."
He looked up at his wife, who smiled approvingly at him. "Now, dear, let's get this over with."
Ignoring the silent plea in his eyes, she pushed him toward a big packing crate, and over it. Up came his robe, exposing his bright red bum, criss-crossed with the cane marks. There was a collective gasp from the fascinated audience. The Old Man REALLY got it this time! Several exchanged triumphant glances. Served him right! Much as they loved him, it served him right!
She had a small paddle and held it up as though displaying a prize on a game show before swinging her arm down in a graceful arc, landing the paddle squarely on his blazing right cheek. "OH!" he cried. Her feet were in a wide stance, her body a vision in black leather, as she paddled her husband before the awed assembly. SMACK! WHACK! Some grimaced with each resounding blow.
When he was mewling and begging for her to stop, she helped him up and rearranged his robe, tented now in the front from his throbbing arousal. Somewhere in the crowd someone began to slowly clap his hands. Soon another joined in, and another. The whole crowd began to applaud both their boss and the boss's wife. Shouts of "Jolly good!" and "Well done, sir!" and "Way to go, Ma'am!" rollicked through the room. She took her husband's hand and led him back to their quarters above the factory.
"And now, my darling, for your reward," she purred. Eagerly he followed her upstairs, and this time, his cries echoing through the house were ones of ecstasy and release.
He was dressed up when he came back down the stairs, a new man. Everyone was overjoyed at the bounce in his step, the smile twinkling merrily in his blue eyes. It was good to have the Mrs. home, they all thought. Things just go better when she's here. And the Old Man never looked better.
"Very spiffy, sir," said Grummels. "You look the best ever!"
"Thanks, Grummels. And...thank you for making that call. At least I suspect it was you, yes?"
Shyly Grummels looked away. "Mayhaps, Sir. I hope I didn't overstep."
"Not at all. It was long overdue, and I appreciate it."
Pleased, Grummels helped him step up and get seated. "It's just about time, Sir. Good luck!"
"Thank you, Grummels," answered the Old Man. "Open the door!" he called to the two men in green livery . Snapping the reins smartly, he called out merrily, "On Dancer and Prancer and Donner...!" The bright little sleigh laden with gifts lifted effortlessly into the sky.