December 12, 2017, 02:16:22 PM

Author Topic: Called on the Carpet  (Read 3029 times)

Alex B.

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Called on the Carpet
« on: June 30, 2008, 04:51:45 AM »
 by Alex B.

 Sandra Flocks strode through the office bathed in a brand of mock confidence she often used to
 belie insecurity. The comely blonde secretary had asked for a meeting with her superior, Troy Banks.
 To her surprise, Mr. Banks had put the meeting off until the end of business at 5 p.m. making
 Sandra feel more like a student summoned to the principal’s office than a business woman with a
 legitimate complaint. She cleared her throat as she approached and knocked on Mr. Banks’ door.

 “Come.” Troy’s muffled voice beckoned.

 Sandra entered to find the handsome, if slightly graying, executive standing beside his desk. He was
 holding a fly-fishing pole the end of which he casually flicked causing a lure at the end of the line
 to land in a far off wastebasket again and again.

 “Mr. Banks?” Sandra said, as if meeting him for the first time.

 “Going after trout in Idaho this summer. So relaxing.”   

 The lure hit its mark a few more times.

 “I need to talk to you about Mr. Claypool.” Sandra said, needlessly straightening her blouse
 as she spoke.

 “I see.” Putting the pole aside, Troy sat at his desk and offered Miss Flocks the opposite chair.
 “What’s Doug done now?”

 Sandra carefully seated herself.

 “Well, this may seem trivial, but I assure you, I take it quite seriously.
 “Tell me.” Mr. Banks urged her on.

 Sandra took a deep breath, lowering her eyes as she spoke.

 “He slaps me.”

 “In the face?” Troy clenched his fists and began to stand.

 “No!” she stated loudly, trying to calm him.

 As Troy lowered himself back into the chair, his hands flattening out onto the desk, Sandra
 began again.

 “He publicly slaps my... you know.” 

 But he didn’t know. Then suddenly, he did.

 “Oh! You mean your rump! Your backside! Your fanny!”

 Sandra’s eyes widened at the barrage of inappropriate terms.

 “Yes!” she replied. “All around the workplace, he takes every opportunity smack my...”

 “I know, go ahead.”

 “And I don’t mean little pats, I’m talking about full contact swats, right in front of all the others!”

 “Well, he certainly shouldn’t-”   

 “I’m a good secretary, Mr. Banks!

 “I know.”

 “I’m a hard worker and loyal to this company!”

 “Okay, just-” Troy pushed some tissues toward her.
 Sandra, having willed herself not to cry, pushed the box aside. “I do not deserve this and I shouldn’t
 have to put up with it!”

 Troy shook his head with unsurprised disappointment.

 “Yeah, Claypool is a jerk. Good employee, but a complete chowderhead when it comes to women.
 I’ll have a few four-letter words with him tomorrow.”

 Sandra raised a knuckle to her lips, half-pretending to hide her amusement. She’d been in need of a
 mental nametag for Doug and “chowderhead” was a positive bull’s-eye.

 “Thank you, Mr. Banks.” she said with a sigh of relief.     

 Troy glanced over at his pole, eager to begin practicing again. “Was that it then?” he asked,
 reaching for his gear.

 “Oh, yes. Thank you.” Sandra stood and headed out of the office, then turned in the doorway. “And I
 just want to say that you’re exactly what the other women say you are.”

 Mr. Banks let his pole fall slack in his hand.

 “And what do they say I am?”

 “A gentleman.” Sandra declared.

 “Ah, that’s... Huh. Thank you.” 

 “And I’m sure you’d never do that to a woman.” 

 “Of course!” Troy agreed. “Not like that anyway.”

 Smiling politely, Sandra turned to leave, but those last words gave her serious pause. “Not like what?”
 she said, turning back and pulling the door closed.

 “I mean that’s no way to spank a woman.”

 Her only response was to gasp, “Excuse me.”

 "A grown woman, a lady, should only be spanked privately.” Troy continued, whipping the air with
 the tip of his pole as he spoke. “Privately, firmly and with great care.”

 Sandra had just begun to laugh when she was struck with an epiphany. “You’re one- that mysterious
 executive who...” Sandra blushed just to think of it. “You know, you’re a legend to the women in
 this office.”

 “I’m nothing of the kind, I’m quite real. And I’m not mysterious, I’m discreet. Like a real gentleman,
 a real artist practices discretion.”

 “The art of spanking? Come on!”

 “Like most things romantic, giving a good spanking can most definitely be an art form, if it‘s done right.” 

 “Really?!” Sandra shot back with an incredulous chuckle.   

 Troy tossed his fly pole aside.

 “Care for a demonstration?”

 There was a brief awkward silence before an answer arrived.

 “How do we start?” someone said. A split-second later, Sandra recognized the voice as her own.

 “Come over here.” Troy instructed, directing her to return and stand beside his desk.
 “Yes, sir.” Somewhat mesmerized by his commanding tone, Sandra did as she’d been told.

 “Now, I‘d like to ask you a question, Miss Flocks. Why didn’t you do something about this situation
 with Mr. Claypool before coming to me?”

 Sandra was stunned. “I’m sorry?" she said. 

 “Did you tell him to keep his hands to himself? Did you cuss him out? Did you at least slap that
 stupid grin off his face?!”

 “I- I didn’t-”

 “Because you had every right to do any of that and more. So why didn’t you?” 

 Suddenly she realized what Troy was doing. He was scolding her. And rather nicely at that.
 She almost felt herself floating out of her body as Mr. Banks stood there, chastising her for
 a litany of weaknesses and imperfections she’d displayed in the workplace, all fairly minor,
 all scrupulously accurate. Within three minutes, his words had won her over. A good spanking was
 not only in order, it was an absolute necessity. Were he not offering to do the honors, she may
 well have retired to the ladies room and spanked herself.   

 Troy then pulled his chair from the desk, seated himself and motioned for Sandra to approach.
 An odd feeling, something akin to a chill but warm and inviting helped Sandra will her feet
 into motion. She trembled slightly as she neared him. Her eyes drifted down to his waiting lap.
 Without prompting, she let her hands drop to her sides and her fingers curl around the hem
 of her skirt. Gradually, she lifted the bottom of the garment upward. Troy gazed up at Sandra’s face
 without a trace of malice. His serious expression made it clear however that there was business to
 be done and they’d best to get down to it. He let her stand there in the breeze for a moment,
 her thighs, panties and lower belly exposed.

 “Over you go.” he finally announced.   

 With that, Sandra lowered herself across his lap, poising her body with fingers and toes just grazing
 the floor, her round panty-clad bottom tilted upward at a most advantageous angle.

 “I’m curious.” she said, peering over her shoulder as Troy surveyed the sweet situation. “Why over
 your knee?”


 “Why not bent over the desk?” she continued.

 “Oh.” Troy looked across his desktop. “Yes, I might have you bend over the desk. I can see that.”

 “Me too!” thought Sandra, feeling blissfully off kilter, devilishly daring and surprisingly aroused.   

 “In any case, if I plan to deliver a real bare-bottom walloping, I wait until after hours.”

 “Like now.” Sandra said, craning her neck to read 5:20 on the clock.

 “Do you mean now, Miss Flocks?”

 “Yes, sir. Right now.” Sandra lifted her hips slightly, allowing Troy to lower her underwear more easily.

 Once Troy had tugged her panties down past her thighs, he gave his subject the usual round of
 warm up slaps he afforded every newly bared set of cheeks.

 Sandra held back an overpowering urge to giggle and possibly even squeal with delight during this
 purely pleasurable stage of the festivities.
 Then the spanking began in earnest with a dozen random swats, mostly moderate with a few
 real stingers mixed in.

 Like a passenger on a roller coaster going into the first big turn, Sandra braced herself and began to
 rethink boarding this particular ride. 

 Twenty devastating spanks were delivered to each of Sandra's burning cheeks, every one deliberately
 timed to keep her off balance and breathless. 

 Tears trickled down Sandra’s face and her feet flew through the air as a batch of swats,
 some barely grazing the underside of her buttocks, others solid whacks with an immediate squeeze
 to the inflicted area, were applied to her reddening ass in rapid succession.     
 Eventually, Troy’s hand and Sandra’s writhing body were moving in unison like a horse and a rider
 coming to full gallop. And like the trained horseman he was, Troy sensed it was time to head back
 to the stable. He swiftly brought the spanking down to a light smacking and then to a deep massage
 interrupted by the occasional slap and squeeze. Sandra gasped and grunted and with each
 motion of his strong, soothing hand. She knew that if this went on much longer, she’d be
 moaning uncontrollably.

 “I’d like to stand now.” she announced, her voice breaking slightly as she pushed herself
 from Troy’s lap.

 “You may.” he said and helped her to rise. Troy couldn’t help noticing Miss Flock’s flushed face
 and teary eyes. “You okay?” he inquired, handing her a handkerchief.

 “Not much worse for the wear.” She dabbed her eyes with the cloth. “I’ll be fine.”

 “If I was a little rough-”

 “No. I asked for a demonstration and I got one. Thank you.” she said, handing the hankie back to him.

 “Anyway, I will talk to Claypool tomorrow morning. He won’t be bothering you anymore.” As he spoke,
 Troy opened his top desk drawer and began searching it.

 For an instant, Sandra was convinced he was looking for a certain wooden hairbrush often whispered
 about but never seen by the ladies in the secretarial pool. They called it “The Kick-Starter”
 and some even claimed to have heard its unyielding flat side being ruthlessly applied to the bottoms
 of errant female employees, though none would name names. Sandra’s buttocks instinctively
 clenched as her mind flashed upon an image of herself falling victim to the notorious implement.
 Then her muscles relaxed and she sighed with relief and just a dab of disappointment as she
 looked down to see a pack of cigarettes in Troy’s hand.

 The two shared a leisurely smoke by the enormous window behind his desk.

 “Lovely.” Sandra commented as if never having noticed the stunning view of Manhattan at sunset
 from that spot. 

 “I agree.” Troy replied, his eyes never leaving her face.
 Turning to him, she smiled warmly, took a long draw from her cigarette and politely blew it out
 the side of her mouth. “Is it true then?”


 “About that hairbrush?”

 “Yes.” Troy sighed. “And it’s a bit of a shame.”

 “What‘s a shame?” she asked, taking another long puff.

 “That you’d never do anything to warrant me bending you across my desk and introducing you to
 its charms.” 

 “Well...” Sandra began, cocking her head to one side as she casually blew smoke into his face.
 “I’m not completely perfect.”

"I'll love you 'til you can't sit down!"


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Re: Called on the Carpet
« Reply #1 on: July 04, 2008, 05:17:53 AM »
wonderfully made. it was practically like being served a five-star meal seasoned with similes and metaphors with a bang of flavor. and you know, it begs for more! I'll take seconds! Please don't say this is really the end. <333
« Last Edit: July 04, 2008, 07:23:29 PM by eNoggi »
Do  I amuse you? 8)

Alex B.

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Re: Called on the Carpet
« Reply #2 on: July 04, 2008, 09:35:29 PM »
 Sounds like you really ate this story up! Well, far be it from me to send you to bed
 without any supper. I know a more persuavive method for adjusting your attitude. 
 Keep sticking that tongue out and you'll find out first hand! ;)

 Bottoms up!

 Alex B.
"I'll love you 'til you can't sit down!"


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Re: Called on the Carpet
« Reply #3 on: July 05, 2008, 06:33:18 PM »
look where my tongue gets me. :D

I'm starving for more, please don't hesitate to send another round over.
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Alex B.

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Re: Called on the Carpet
« Reply #4 on: July 05, 2008, 09:30:41 PM »
 Hey eNoggi,

 Here's a fun little piece I think you'll enjoy. 

 You're firm-handed friend,
 Alex B.

 P.S. Yes, you do amuse me.
 __________________________________ _________________________

 Fun with Dan and Jill
 by Alex B.

 See the sun shine on the house.

 Dan and Jill live there.

 They are in love.

 Dan is at work.

 See Jill in the house.

 Jill is bored.

 She looks at her dog, Scraps.

 “What to do?” Jill asks.

 “Bark!” says Scraps.

 “I’ll make a rum cake!” says Jill.

 See Jill get the milk, eggs and flour.

 She puts them in a bowl.

 See Jill find the rum.

 “Yum!” says Jill.

 See Jill sip the rum.

 “Bark!” says Scraps.

 Jill fills a glass with rum.

 See Jill knock the bowl on the floor.

 “Oops!” laughs Jill.

 Scraps runs out to the yard.

 Jill drinks some more rum.

 See Jill toss some flour in the air.

 Jill laughs.

 She throws an egg at the stove.

 See Jill make a big mess. 

 Jill goes to sleep on the couch.

 See the sun go down.

 Dan comes home from work.

 See him open the front door.

 He looks at the mess.


 Jill wakes up.

 Dan is mad. 

 “What is this?” asks Dan.

 Jill gulps.

 “Well?” says Dan.

 See Jill stall.

 Stall, Jill! Stall!

 “Oh.” says Jill. “Scraps did this.” 

 Dan stares at Jill.

 Jill starts to sweat.

 “I don’t think so.” says Dan. 

 Dan sits on the couch.

 See him take Jill by the arm.

 Dan pulls Jill over his knee.

 Up goes Jill's skirt.

 “No!” she shouts.

 Down go her panties.

 “Yes!” says Dan.

 See Dan swat Jill's rump.

 “Ouch!” she squeals.

 “Good!” says Dan.

 Dan spanks Jill.

 See Jill fight.

 See Jill kick.

 “It stings!” she shouts.

 Dan starts to spank Jill hard.

 See Jill’s buns turn pink.

 Tears stream down her face.

 Poor Jill!

 Dan’s hand comes down.

 “Smack!” is the sound it makes.

 “Ooh!” yells Jill.

 Dan slaps her left cheek.


 Dan slaps her right cheek.


 “Please, Dan!” Jill whines.
 Dan gives Jill ten more spanks.

 They are so fast and so hard.

 “Ow!” cries Jill.

 Dan stops.

 Jill bawls like a small girl.

 Dan helps Jill up.

 She rubs her red, sore cheeks and sobs.

 Dan hugs Jill.

 Jill starts to clean up the mess.

 “That can wait.” says Dan.

 Dan takes Jill to their bed.

 Jill is glad to go.

 See the moon shine on the house.

 Dan and Jill live there.

 They are in love.

 The End
"I'll love you 'til you can't sit down!"


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Re: Called on the Carpet
« Reply #5 on: July 06, 2008, 02:17:05 AM »
Oh, very nice. I like the repetition of the beginning at the end. great read. thank you. :]
Do  I amuse you? 8)

Alex B.

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Re: Called on the Carpet
« Reply #6 on: July 06, 2008, 10:41:08 AM »
Back when I went to school, we learned to read with the help of books called primers. I'm sure
you had something similar- simple stories with simple sentences. The best known primer was called,
"Fun with Dick and Jane", the tale of two hopelessly white kids and their dog, Spot. It was part of
a series of books that contained such memorable passages as: "See Spot run. Run, Spot! Run!"
Riveting. Dick and Jane were before my time. My class read about Mark and Janet, a pair of Dick and Jane
wannabes who brainlessly cavorted with an over-groomed pooch named, Socks who always looked like
he was about to be entered into competition at the Westminster Kennel Club. We all thought Socks
was a bit light in the paws, if you know what I mean. “Socks likes paisley.“ we used to say.
“See Socks prance. Prance, Socks! Prance!” Of course, that was a long time ago, before I learned to
be more accepting of sensitive fictional pets and their lifestyle choices. Watch Alex grow as a person.
Grow, Alex! Grow! 
"I'll love you 'til you can't sit down!"