mortalvyses
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September 2020 Short Story: Worth for the Wear
🕑 Added 2020-09-29 22:41:49 +0000 UTCThe winning prompt for September was: "Some folks aren't happy with the new office dress code. But the boss will bring them on board. (F/m)" After some brainstorming got a little out of hand, I've decided there was enough to extend this into a two-parter. There will be no October story poll, but you can expect the conclusion to this at the end of October.
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to persons or organizations real or fictional is entirely coincidental. This is fiction.
Content Warning: This work contains examples of unsafe BDSM, office sexual harassment, unhealthy relationships, blood, amateur bondage, and non-consensual sexual situations.
---
The bar generally catered to well-off dates, but most of them had gotten their drinks out of the way before 2AM. There were only four or five people left over by the bar, plus a pair of women sitting at a table with a half-dozen empty glasses. A woman wearing a burgundy pantsuit and a turquiose headband stared into a quarter-full glass of beer and groused to her companion.
"I'm telling you, 'Mase, these guys are out of control! I swear I've tried everything. I get snacks, I remember birthdays, try to talk about their hobbies, anything to make a connection, but it just never works. And when I drop the whole miss nice manager plan and try to hand it to them, our assistant manager always goes behind my back and 'handles' things so that the guys don't learn a gosh-darn thing."
"Oh, yeah, that new guy corporate sent in from out of town last year?" Amase was now drinking cola, resigned to the fact that she was going to have to be the adult again. "Guess that really isn't working out, huh?"
"Well, it's more just complicated." She took another swig from her glass before continuing, "He's a conflict-avoidance middle child type, it's like he's got a sixth sense for when trouble's about to start, and he clamps down on it before harsher discipline can really be an option. That's fine sometimes, but it feels like it just leaves everyone simmering and the real jerks never really reflect on what they're doing. *sigh*. I try to take over in situations like that anyways, but, y'know, it doesn't help that he's the kind of guy you feel bad for scolding. ...And pretty cute, too."
"Ohh, so he's basically distracting you with cuteness and letting the bad eggs get away. I know the type. Y'know," Amase raised her finger, gesturing at the air, "this reminds me of a class I had to teach a couple of years ago. Lots of boys who didn't play well with others, and one guy who liked to be Little Lawyer Junior. It was a real handful, yess indeed. Don't get me started."
"Mmm, yeah, I remember hearing about that. You seemed pretty riled up about it at the time." She tilted her head quizzically, leaning a little too far forward. "How *did* you survive that, anyways?"
"Talked with the principal, and we tried a couple of things. Some disciplinary stuff, and a new dress code that worked wonders." "There was a transition period, but it turns out once you do get control of what someone's allowed to wear, you can control a lot of other things along the way. Yup."
"Ah, okay. Wish that's something I could do. Stinks that conduct policies at our company have to be joint approved by my role and the Assistant District Manager. I'm pretty sure I could order him to do it and he'd find some way to keep brushing it off. And the CEO is coming in for a visit in two months! What am I even gonna doooo, ughhhh~? This whole thing suuuccckkssss~."
"I get that, but c'mon, it's late. Even for Friday. I've got stuff to do tomorrow, and I'm sure you do too, hon." Amase shook her companion's shoulder a bit.
"'Mm've got nothing all weekend. Just gonna spend it around the house." Knursten groaned slightly and nodded, getting out her credit card to pay the bill.
After the bill was paid, the taller woman helped her stand up. "Better than spending it bar-hopping. C'mon, let's go."
...
Once they reached the train station, the two waved goodbye. Amase boarded the platform, taking the train towards her downtown apartment. Knursten turned around - her apartment was actually a ten-minute walk from this particular station. She turned away from the station to start the walk home, when she noticed a younger man sitting on a bench across the plaza. His matted red hair looked kind of familiar.
"Wait, is that...?"
She moved in closer to discover that it was, in fact, her office's Assistant Manager, Pader Spate. Liquid courage pushed her to speak. "Pader? Is that you?"
The man looked up with surprise. "Huh? Ms. Whill? Why, uh, what are you doing here? Why are you out this late?"
Given what time it was, there wasn't much illumination to be had, but his face was still clearly a mess. His business shirt was also covered with black singe marks. "I was just on my way home. Um," She paused, then asked, "have you been crying?"
"I wasn't... I don't..." His mouth opened and closed a few times before he found the words. "Oh, it's terrible! My apartment building burned down. Somebody lit a match in their living room and dropped it and I just barely made it out with my life! My family lives out of town - I've got nowhere to go." He had broken into sobs halfway through the explanation.
She took a step back and blinked a few times. "Gee. Wow. That's a heck of a thing to have happen. You've been out here on this bench for how long now?"
"I dunno. I haven't really been counting time."
She took a step closer again, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Well, look, you don't want to spend the rest of the night out here. Whatever you need to do, better do it on a few hours' rest. I'm not gonna just leave someone to their own devices when they're in a prickly pickle. You can stay at my place." Knursten put on a smile she usually reserved for her younger sister.
"I, um, I dunno if..." He covered his face in his hands again, sighed, and continued, "If you're honestly offering me a place to stay, I'd really appreciate it. Sorry, but I can't pay you right now. My wallet's one of the things that went up in the fire."
"That's no problem. You can cook and vacuum to earn your keep for a few days. C'mon," she reached down and covered his hand with both of hers. His was colder than a hand should be, "Like as not, you'll get frostbite if you spend the night out here."
He blushed, "Your hands are warm. Thank you."
He got up, and she pulled him forward down the path to her apartment.
...
She turned a key and pushed the door open, then let go of his hand to find the light switch. Once the lights were on, he could see it was a nice apartment with hardwood flooring, aside from the tile that covered the kitchen area. There was a living room with a couch flanked by two end tables, plus an armchair and a wall-mounted TV. A hallway led out to what was presumably the bathroom and bedroom. Her kitchen had a granite island separating it from a small dining table.
He looked at the kitchen for a second. "Oh, you have an electric stove. Huh."
"Haha, not like I cook much with it, though. So I actually do have two bedrooms, but the one is for storage and the other is mine. Obviously, we're not sharing a bed, so you'll have to sleep on the couch. Is that okay?"
He nodded, "Yeah, no problem."
"One request, since you've been out for hours and it's a nice couch, if you could just shower for a few minutes before conking out. Bathroom's down the hall and to the left. I'll get a blanket ready for you, but then I'm going to bed."
"Sounds good." He started walking towards the bathroom, but she tugged on the hem of his untucked shirt to stop him.
"Before we get too far into this, I just, uh, think we should set a few ground rules."
"Makes sense. What's the score?"
"Just a few things, really. One, no going in the bedrooms. Two, you cook the food while you stay here. Three, no doing anything gross or creepy. Okay?"
"Sounds just fine to me," He nodded, "I'm gonna take a shower now before I pass out."
She nodded, and each went their own way. When he finished his shower, there was a gray wool blanket laid out on the couch for him.
...
......
.........
It was roughly thirty minutes after waking up Saturday morning that Knursten realized there was a problem.
"Umm, so when you said your stuff all burned up in the fire, that meant clothes?"
She cast a nervous, slightly uncomfortable look at the boxers and tank top he wore.
"Er, yeah. This was the undershirt I had on under my suit last night." He shrugged slightly.
"Okay, I know I'm the host and we're not exactly working under ideal conditions here, but I'm not kicking you out and I already know I can't live like this. I'm going out to get you some stuff to wear around the house *today*." She went to the kitchen and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. "Do you know your sizes off the top of your head?"
...
Knursten was carrying four bags from different stores down the escalator. She had purchased a decent array of shirts and pants that were close enough to Pader's given sizes that most of them would likely fit. She hummed a little tune to herself, enjoying the feeling of doing a good deed, and looking around at the stores on each floor. There was a clothing emporium on the sixth floor where she had done most of her shopping, two stylish coffee shops on the fifth floor, a record store advertising pop music of all kinds on the fourth floor, a costume shop displaying catgirl, butler, and witch outfits in its front window on the third floor, a cosmetics shop she was fairly familiar with on the second floor, and a few different limited-time sellers of local sweets on the first floor. She hefted the bags to shift their weight around and began walking towards the exit. Just before she reached it, she stopped, almost causing the person behind her to bump into her.
"Oh, um, sorry! I, uh, I'll get out of your way!" She bowed her head slightly to apologize, then beat a hasty retreat. She took one step back towards the escalators, then turned back to the exit. She took one step towards the exit, then back towards the escalators. Knursten ran through this cycle several times before eventually settling in on a direction. Then she turned back around, clenched her fists with determination and headed towards the elevators.
...Five minutes later, she emerged on the third floor, bags still in tow. She lugged her purchases into the costume shop, waved down an employee, and pointed to one of the outfits in the window display. "*pant*, *pant*... Can you tell me what sizes that outfit comes in?"
...
Back at home, Knursten laid out her purchases on the table. There were seven shirts in varying shades of light blue, white, and grey, plus six pairs of nondescript navy and beige pants. The butler costume, with a brown vest, a black jacket with white trim held together by a silver chain, and black, pocketless pants, was left on the center of the table.
"Thanks, let me just try a pair on." Pader picked up a grey shirt and navy pants, and went into the bathroom to change. He came out three minutes later. "Yeah, these fit just fine. I really appreciate it. I'll find a way to pay you back."
"Oh. Okay. Sure." She glanced down, slightly crestfallen. "I though that maybe, um. No, never mind."
"Alright?" He was slightly puzzled by her reaction as he tugged on his pant leg. They were a little tighter than what he ususally wore. "These'll do just fine. Thanks again. For everything."
Knursten had been muttering something to herself, and he didn't quite catch what. "...What? Oh, yes, of course. Y'know what they say, when you're in a prickly pickle, you can count on friends. Or something. I think?"
...
......
.........
The rest of the weekend passed by largely uneventfully, with Pader trying and failing to find long-term housing with a few different places. The two of them had gotten dressed, her in a gray pantsuit, him in one of the shirt/pant combos she had bought, and left the house 10 minutes apart to avoid any suspicion. It was now 10:20 AM, and Pader was at the water cooler with three younger male employees.
One of them, a 25-year old with dirty blonde hair, was not supposed to be on break. "My fantasy team really crapped the bed last week. Team has six touchdowns but my guy can't even catch one. What is the deal with that?"
"It happens." Pader shrugged. "Hey, I know it's Monday, but don't spend too long at the cooler, okay?
Merdew gave a noncommittal wave, "Yeah, sure, I getcha, boss man."
The guys laughed, Pader included, "Jokes aside, didn't Ms. Whill tell you not to take too many breaks? Like it or not, you'd rather not end up on her bad side."
"Yeah, I know better than to piss off the ice witch. Can you believe she wants the quarterly report done by this afternoon? I know the meeting's not for another week. What a slave-driver. I mean, you can tell why she has blue hair, right? The witch traded her blood in for ice water, and it shows."
The laughter was noticeably more nervous this time, but everyone did join in.
"So long as you get it done, no harm no foul. I'm heading back to my office." Pader walked away. As he turned a corner, he thought he caught a glimpse of icy-blue hair at the other end of the hall. Then he blinked and saw the corridor was empty.
...
Pader had made crab cakes and a salad for dinner. The two were seated across from each other, chewing their food and not speaking very much.
Knursten was the one to break the silence. "You guys talk a lot during breaks. Do you ever talk about me?"
"Uh, why do you ask?" He pounded his chest to force down his most recent mouthful.
"Just curious." She didn't make eye contact.
"Not so much, really. Most of what I hear is you're tough but fair."
"Most of it, huh?" She fiddled with her salad a bit. "I sometimes wonder if the office couldn't be a better place for everyone to work, is all."
"Honestly, things at the office are fine the way they are. I've seen worse. It takes all kinds to make a world." He shrugged.
She gave him a look that was hard to read, then went back to her food. The rest of the dinner finished in silence.
When he got up to clear the dishes, he almost tripped. "These chairs sure are heavy. Where did you get them?"
She replied, "Oh, my aunt gave me them as a gift when I moved in. Supposedly they're harder to tip over, or something. I keep 'em around."
"I see."
She retreated to her bedroom soon after, and he spent the rest of the evening browsing real estate listings on the spare tablet she had lent him.
...
Later that night, Knursten was awake, tossing and turning in bed, when she noticed a sound. It was a sound she wasn't too familiar with. It sounded like a cat scratching on wood, or sandpaper. She lifted her torso and rubbed her eyes, "Well, it's not like I'm sleeping anyways, might as well take a look."
She slid on her comfy slippers and walked silently across the floor, towards the hallway where it seemed to be coming from. Strangely, it didn't seem to be lit.
Knursten cracked the hallway door door open slightly. All she could see was a very small flame. It very dimly illuminated a match, the drinking glass it burned in, and Pader's face.
She covered her mouth with surprise, watching as her guest continued to watch this flame. He stared intently until it burned down to nothing. It was pitch black for a second, and then he lit another match, tossing it into the drinking glass on top of the first.
Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and she could see he had begun masturbating towards this small flame. She was almost too shocked to stay quiet, but she did start biting her lip.
He lit a third match while the second was still burning, stroking his junk with his off-hand. This time, he lifted the match upwards, in a way that made it fairly clear the glass was not his target.
"!" The sudden realization of what he was about to do brought Knursten back to her senses. "Oh no you DON'T!" She bashed open the door and, before he could react, grabbed his match hand by the elbow and forced it against his chest, snuffing out the match and burning him in the process.
"AAAAGH!!" Pader screamed in pain. He half-jumped backwards, but Knursten's next two moves were a fist to the jaw and an elbow to the temple. He was out cold on the floor in seconds.
...
He awoke to find himself sitting in a room he vaguely recognized as Knursten's kitchen. There was a phone flashlight in his eyes, obscuring his vision. He was still completely naked. He tried to shift his arms and found they were bound behind his back by a length of extension cord. He tried to move his legs and found they were tied to the legs of the chair by two other lengths of extension cord. Unsurprisingly, another length of cord was tied around his waist.
"I wouldn't try it. I learned a thing or three about knots when I went camping as a girl." Knursten was standing there, as imposing as her four-foot-nine frame and purple PJs would allow. She wore a stone-faced expression. "You're a pyromaniac." It was not a question.
"......" He turned away, refusing to respond.
*SLAP*
Her palm turned his face in the opposite direction. He could feel a numb, stinging sensation. "Talk, kiddo. Believe me, I'm not going anywhere."
"...Yes."
*SLAP*
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I'm a pyromanic and I burned my old apartment down." He tried to raise his hand to nurse his cheek and was reminded that he was securely bound.
"And why is it you like to start fires?"
"Because it makes me horny. When I get stressed out, when something awkward happens, I just get that itch to watch something burn." The words were flowing more freely after that initial confession.
"Hmmm, I see." Knursten remained wholly unreadable. "When did this start?"
"When I was seventeen. I did it mostly at home at first, it was harder to do in dorms so I kinda used public bathrooms and just lit a match over the toilet. When I started working at the head office three years ago, there was one stall I liked to use there. It had a faulty smoke alarm for a while, but eventually they fixed it. I only realized they had after I set it off, though. I think the CEO, Ms. Senecia, had an idea it was me. Maybe that's why I was transferred." He would have slumped over if he wasn't tightly bound. "I wish I could stop, y'know. I just can't. Every time I get stressed out it just kinda happens."
"Well. Well, well, well. A lot of things make more sense now." She nodded, expression still deathly stiff. "One last question."
"Might as well as ask me."
"Do the guys call me a witch at work all the time, or was today a one-time thing?" Her expression shifted. Now, she was glaring daggers at him.
"!! Umm... Well... I, uh-"
*SLAP* "TALK, ya doof!"
"Yes, 'Ice Witch', that's a, uh, nickname people use. Merdew Buckest started it and uses it the most, but I've heard it from a few other guys, at times."
"Well. Well, well, well. That's interesting. Hehehe, ohohoHOHOHO! Very interesting indeed!" Her cackling conveyed a very unsettling kind of fury. She raised her right arm.
*SLAP* *SMACK* *SLAP* *SMACK* She swung it against his face, hitting him in quick succession with the palm and back of her hand. "OW, what was that for? I talked, didn't I?"
"Hahaha, oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt? It's just something we ice witches do sometimes." She swished something around in her mouth, then spat in his face several times. "Bet your cheeks sting. Here's something that might make it feel better." She pressed her fingers onto his cheeks, smearing the spit around and forcing him to pucker. "Aw, wow, you look so silly right now. Definitely have to get that image later when I'm checking the camera."
He was dazed from the blows to the head, but perked up at that last word. "Camera? What?"
"Oh yeah, that. I should explain that." She took a step back and turned on the main lights of the kitchen. He blinked several times, and after his eyes adjusted, he could see a grey handheld video camera on the island countertop next to her cell phone. The red REC light was on. "You see, I just got our little conversation on camera."
She stopped the recording, fiddled with a few buttons, and placed it back on the table. "And now that conversation is in the cloud. Unless I punch in a code at the end of tomorrow, and every day after, that vid is going to a friend, who knows exactly what to do with it."
His eyes widened with shock. "You, you! You nasty, little-!"
She interrupted, wagging a finger at him, "Uh-uh, you don't get to talk to me like that anymore, kiddo. Show some respect. This is my house. You can call me 'Madam', or I can go ahead and send this to a detective right now."
There was silence for a good ten seconds. Then Pader replied, "Yes, Madam."
She nodded, cheeks flushed slightly. "Yes, that's more like it. I think you're going to need to follow some more rules from here on out. And since you had a pretty easy time breaking house rule three, I'm gonna be writing them down."
Knursten grabbed a paper and pen from behind her, then continued, scribbling as she went, "Rule number one. No more fires, except when I can see you and give explicit permission."
He groaned. She ignored him. "Two, you follow all my orders. To the letter. At home *and* at work. That means anything I make a decision at the office from now on, I wanna hear you follow it up with, 'Great idea, Knursten!', or something similar. Three, you don't get to leave this apartment at least until I'm personally one hundred percent sure that you won't be burning anything else to the ground."
She put the paper down for a second, then came back with the butler costume from Saturday on a hanger. "Four, whenever you're at home, you wear this butler uniform. Think of it as a way of reminding yourself what you've done. Remember to address me as 'Madam' when you're wearin' it, too."
He sighed, "Okay, it's not like I have a choice."
"*AHEM*! I'm not done. Five, no more masturbating."
"WHAT?!" That got a response. "You can't just decide that. I mean, I get why you would think- But, it's a biological need-"
*SMACK* "Once again, I'm not done." She finished writing something, then cast the paper aside and crouched down near his crotch. "I'm gonna take charge of your orgasms from here on out."
With that, she pulled back the sleeve of her pajama top and wrapped her left hand around his flaccid cock. She began squeezing, testing out just how soft it was.
"..." This did not get much of a reaction out of him.
"Nice and soft. Guess it's harder without extracurriculars, huh?" Knursten continued to squeeze, slowly moving her hand up and down.
"..." Pader stayed silent. He wasn't exactly eager to give her what she wanted.
"Not the easiest nut to crack, huh? Well how about... THIS?!" Just when her hand reached the top of his shaft, she dug two lacquered fingernails into the glans. Not too hard.
"Nnngh!" But still hard enough. That broke his silence.
"Well, I see your vocal cords aren't broken. Let's see if you can make some prettier sounds, though." She continued to squeeze, sticking her nails into various parts of the shaft on occasion. It still lacked girth.
"AGH! AG...hn...gh..." He moaned under her continued ministrations, squeezing his eyes shut each time she jabbed a nail in.
She started to shift her grip, then noticed something. "Hmm?" She grinned. His junk was now long enough to stroke. She spat on her palm once, than grabbed his cock again and began jerking her hand up and down. "It's getting bigger, hun. Did you notice?"
"...Like hell." His voice was full of bitter denial. His eyes betrayed a trace of unease.
"Yes, I like this." She noticed some pre had oozed out of the tip, and took a sniff. "Hello. Maybe it's not meal-sized yet, but this'll make a pretty decent dessert. *nom*" She swallowed the upper half of his cock.
"Nngh...!" There was an immediate reaction as sticky lips wrapped around his shaft, even before they started moving. He instinctively shifted his hips away.
"Mmmf, *slurrp*, *swish*." She dived forward to chase him, letting the spit flow from cheek to cheek.
"Ohhh, hn, ah!" He couldn't contain his moans now. He squirmed, as much as his bonds would allow. His hips slid forward.
"MMFFFF, *slobber*, *succkk*." The forward slide pushed it back down her throat. She welcomed the opportunity to embrace more of it.
"Nnnggg, oohhhh, OOOHHHyes!!" He leaned forward as far as his bonds would allow
"*SUCCKK*, MMFFF, *schluRRRPP*." Her cheeks went concave as she sucked with as much force as she could muster. Her tongue still found a way to slither around his mouth.
This was more pleasure than he could take. "I can't, I... I'm COMINNGGGG!!!"
A hot, white jet of pleasure lanced up through his urethra, blasting out in the roof of her mouth. "MRRMMMBBbfff!!"
"*pant*... *pant*... *pant*..." Pader was short of breath, unsure of what to do next.
Knursten, for her part, was dealing with a huge wad of cum scattered around her mouth. She thought for a moment, then swished it around, licked around inside, and gathered it all into a big clump. Then she *gulped* it right down. "I take it back, that WAS a meal." She licked her lips.
"...Anyways, I'm sure you're enjoying that afterglow, but it won't be fun to sleep in a chair. I'll untie you and then you can sleep on the couch." She got out a few wet tissues, wiped his crotch down, then undid the cords binding him to the chair.
The cords fell to the floor, but he remained slumped over. "...zzz."
"You're kidding. Well, I guess that must've been a heck of an experience for him." She sighed, "Well, time to work the old biceps."
She got one arm behind his back and one under his knees, and hefted the taller man up. Good thing she worked out fairly often. In a few minutes, he was tucked under a blanket on the couch, snoozing peacefully.
"Sleep tight, kiddo. Tomorrow, you're gonna have a new life to get used to." She blushed, smiling slightly, then turned to head to her own bedroom.
...
......
.........
The next week was very uneventful on the work side of things. There was a conference call with R+D, several meetings with customers, and the usual amount of paperwork. The only thing slightly out of the ordinary event was an all-hands meeting with the female staff on Thursday, but Pader didn't have any time to worry about that. He had woken up the morning after that Monday night to find the scribbled contract on the table, and he had had no choice but to sign. Since then, the guy had his hands full dealing with his new private life as Knursten's uniformed manservant.
That Saturday, eight days after she had first taken him in, she sat in her chair wearing a fluffy, lime-green bathrobe. The mistress of the house sipped her coffee and read the newspaper while he massaged her shoulders. After she finished, he was allowed to sit for his own breakfast. It had gotten cold by now, but he knew better than to complain. While he ate, she occasionally asked him for his input while she worked on the crossword. "What's a seven letter word for 'confuse' that ends with x?"
"Maybe 'flummox', Madam?" He shrugged, characteristically unsure of himself
"Ohh, that's good." She scribbled in a few letters. "Hmm, what about...
Once he finished eating, he cleared all of their dishes and washed them out in the sink. He hadn't been done for ten seconds when she clapped her hands to call him into the living room, where she sat him down on an armchair for the first of five daily milking sessions (three on weekdays). She swallowed every time. At the end of each day, he was exhausted, but somehow was starting to feel satisfied with the arrangement. He hummed a little tune while washing their laundry on Sunday.
...
......
.........
On Monday morning, ten days after that night when Knursten had last been out for drinks, everyone at the office was gathered around the postings board. There was a new sheet of A4 paper prominently placed on display:
~Office Dress Code~
1. Male employees must wear shorts and a formal shirt. Baggy clothes are not allowed.
-Knursten Whill shall be measuring all male employees for their clothing sizes.
2. Shorts may end no less than 10 centimeters above the knee.
-Leggings are allowed, depending on the weather
3. Female employees may wear whatever they choose, provided they keep it professional.
None of the guys knew what to say. But then Merdew walked up carrying a big red pen, and wrote "YEAH RIGHT!" on it in big bold letters.
"I thought it might be you," Knursten, wearing a powder-blue pantsuit with a lilac choker, chimed up from the back of the room, "In my office. Let's talk."
He rolled his eyes as he followed along.
...
Knursten's office was a generic one, sparsely decorated with white walls. Her desk had a computer monitor, plus a few miscellaneous office supplies and measuring apparata. There was one family photo, of a younger woman with straight, blue hair tied back in a ponytail.
She cleared some space on her desk, then sat down on top of it. It took a bit of lifting to get herself up there, but it put her more or less on eye level with him. "So, it seems you don't like the new dress code. Why?"
"Are you kidding me? How are we supposed to make sales calls in winter without long pants, for one!"
"About that. I was thinking guys would be handling more internal work. Writing reports, making coffee, that sort of thing. Think of it as part of a broader policy initiative." Her eyes showed she was serious.
"I don't- Are you taking me off the sales force? Big mistake. You'll lose customers, I promise you that." He smirked.
"I'll take that under advisement. But my decision stands. And I'm the boss. What do you say to that?" She leaned forward slightly.
"Here's what I say. I'm not going along with any of this shit. I'm gonna keep on wearing what I'm wearing, selling tape the way I've been selling it, and doing what I'm doing. And I will do this because I am BETTER at business than you!" He was shouting, now.
"Not this time you're not." Knursten smiled calmly.
She stood up and began walking towards him. Each step brought out a little more poise, a little extra confidence.
"Do you know how many times you've made some dumb, bigoted comment and I just wanted to knee you in the gut? How many times I watched you catcall one of your coworkers and had to swallow my rage? How many times you blew off your assignments and caused problems for multiple people at the other end of the chain? How many times I had to apologize for crap that you screwed up?" She had fixed her eyes on him the whole time.
"Hahahah! Whatever, icy." Murdew towered over her by a full foot. He just stared back at her, laughing.
What happened next happened fast.
"OOF!!" He doubled over as a powerful, leaping knee blow stabbed him right in the rib cage. She landed gracefully and brought her leg back, then sent him crumpling to the floor with a roundhouse kick that connected right around his left ear.
"You made my Hold Me Back list a eighty plus nine times, gasbag." She let out a satisfied whoosh of air. "It's not gonna hit eighty plus ten."
He lay there on the floor, groaning in pain. She grabbed a wooden ruler from a cup on top of her desk, then slid down on the floor. She lifted him up so that his groin was over the knees of her pantsuit, then undid his belt and pulled down his pants and underwear.
"Starting now, I'm going to hit you until I'm satisfied. I'm sure it's going to hurt."
*Smack*!
"OW!"
"You can speed the process up by saying 'I'm sorry.' each time I give you what you deserve."
*Smack*!
"AGH!"
*Smack*! *Smack*! She brought down her ruler on the side of his right cheek, landing two quick strikes.
"AH, OUCH!"
She paused for a moment. "I'm not hearing a lot of Sorrys out of you. Do you enjoy having your butt spanked, loser?"
"No, I hate it. Fuck you!" He spat back.
"Ohhh, I see. Well, that's fine."
*Smack*! *Smack*! *SMACK*!! *SMACK*!!! Four strikes, each more powerful than the last, devastated the top of his left mound.
"F, f... you. Sniff, *sob*."
"Aww, is our tough little lunkhead crying? What a tragedy." She grinned mirthfully, and continued.
*Smack*! *SMACK*! *SMACK*! *Smack*! His ass was starting to get red on both sides.
"... I, *sniff* ...ry." He muttered something in between sobs.
*Swoosh*! *SmackSmackSmackSmack*!! This time, it was a jab with the narrow side of the ruler, then a series of quick, sharp blows. "Hmm? What was that?"
"I'm, *sob*, sorry..." His ass was already bleeding in at least one place, but it was too numb for him to know that.
*Smack*! *Smack*! *Smack*! The spanking slowed to a more steady pace. "That's a start. Again."
"I'm, sorry. OW! Ow!"
*Smack*! *Smack*! *Smack*! The steady pace continued. "Again, louder."
"I'm sorry!" He meant it, at least as far as he would say anything to get away from this pain.
*Slash*! *Slash*! A few more narrow-end blows split skin and drew fresh blood. "Mhm. I bet. And what are you sorry for?"
"I'm sorry! For being a jerk to you!"
*Slash*! "And what else?"
"I'm sorry! For not listening to what you said."
*Slash*, *slasssshhh*! The last one was a longer cut. "And you promise to listen to whatever I say from now on?"
"I'm sorry! Yes, I promise!" He knew the right answer was yes, even only half-aware of what he was saying.
*Smack*! *Smack*! "Good. Now repeat after me. 'I will always follow Knursten's orders. Including the new dress code.'"
"I will always follow OW Knursten's orders. Including OAGh the new dress code!"
"You better." *SMACK*!!! She landed one last smack for emphasis. "If I catch you doing your scummy thing again, you can expect another round of this, buster."
She took a tissue from her desk, then used it to wipe the blood off the ruler. He was a sobbing mess on the floor. She let him stay there for two minutes while she was cleaning up, then gave him a kick in the ribs with the heel of her navy pumps. "You're not on break. Stop wasting the workday, get your pants on, and get your butt out of here."
Merdew left the office defeated, and he never objected to the dress code after that. The splitting pain in his ass took several days to go down, and by the time was able to get some emotional distance from those events, it was one week later. In that time, several other guys had more quietly voiced their reservations before being taken aside by Knursten or one of the other women on staff, but nobody would dare do so now. Every male employee in the office was wearing short shorts, plus shirts tight enough that, around the pecs, their nipples were clearly visible.
Knursten sat down at her desk and closed her eyes, admiring the mental view and undressing several of the guys in her head. "Wow, this was a genuinely great idea! I can't wait for the rest of the new uniforms to get here."
~To be continued~
