“Ah, Natasha, here again are you?” He slipped into character immediately and with ease.
“Looks like it,” she replied, smirking sarcastically.
“Let’s see how long that smile stays on your face.” He dominantly lowered his face to hers, making her swallow hard which seemed to please him. “Get your foot off the wall or I will have you on your hands and knees cleaning it.”
She sullenly removed her foot and noticed his gaze trailing down the length of her body, settling on her booted feet and legs. He smiled.
“I’ll call you in when I’m ready for you.”
He disappeared into his office.
Tasha thought about twenty minutes had passed before Jim called to her, “Natasha, in here, now.”
She entered the office and stood opposite him as he sat in his seat behind the desk. He stared across at her and smiled slyly as she was forced to break the stare first.
“Now, young lady, I think we should discuss your recent deceit and transgressions,” said Jim sternly.
“It wasn’t my fault,” protested Tasha thinking she was supposed to play this with less defiance and more indignation at the accusations.
“Natasha, did you encourage Amanda to share intimate details about her life at dinner?” he asked coldly.
“Yes, sir,” she replied timidly.
“And did you discuss your own slutty preferences with Abby?” he asked now.
“Yes,” replied Tasha, relieved that Jim hadn’t called Abby, Abigail. As she suppressed a giggle she was startled at the sound of a crop landing on the top of the desk.
“Yes, what?” Jim got to his feet and circled the desk until he settled behind her now.
“Yes, sir,” she corrected.
“Better, but I think that lapse may have earned you another couple of strokes.” He traced a path with the crop down the length of her spine before it rested at the crevice of her behind.
“But—” Tasha stopped at the sound of the crop slapping gently against her covered behind.
She swallowed hard and could already feel her own excitement rising.
“And did you or did you not unleash your dirty mouth, Natasha and embarrass the young boy Dylan and Sandra.
“Yes sir,” she repeated as she considered that his phrase,the young boy Dylanreally did make him sound like a school teacher of sorts and felt her repeated response was becoming some kind of mantra she was chanting now, although they both knew that the embarrassment of Dylan and Sandra belonged to Jim rather than her.
“Then we’re agreed, aren’t we? You are a bad girl and you need to be punished.”
“No.” Tasha sounded genuinely nervous, more nervous than she actually was. “I mean,” she continued. “I know I may have done things to displease you, but you don’t have to punish me, not like this.” She introduced a tremble to her voice now.
“Who’s in charge here, Natasha?” Jim seemed pleased with how she was playing her part.
“You are, sir.”
“So who makes the decisions on your inappropriate behaviour and punishments?”
“You sir,” she repeated.
“Yes, me, Natasha. So if I say you need to be punished with the crop, what will you be punished with?” He sounded cold enough now that Tasha began to feel genuinely nervous.
“Then I will be punished with the crop,” she replied and because of her nervousness momentarily forgot the need for a sir at the end of the sentence and just as she remembered the necessity for one and added, “Sorry, sir.” The riding crop struck again, but this time a little firmer and to her other side. She let out a single whimper.
Jim circled her again and stared at her intently before sitting back in his chair. He called her to him with a curl of his finger.
