A War of Wills | free paddle spanking story

It was a rocky peace, at best, between Samantha and her ‘new assistant’ – hired by Daddy to keep her temper in line. She resesnted the very thought of him, but there was nothing the high-spirited young woman could do about it. She put up with Joel Cameron another three days after the infamous, unsettling spanking, spending a good deal of time avoiding him, since she could hardly face him. The picture of herself, so unceremoniously pulled over his lap, her ass bared, her bottom slapped until it stung, kept popping into her brain without warning, especially when Joel was around. Every time she saw him, a red blush threatened her face. She’d make excuses, turn the other way and quit his presence as fast as she reasonably could. Her mind was invaded with the terror of having him do it again, while at the same time her body responded strangely as if it liked what she felt. Since that was impossible, she chalked the incident up to the surprise and turmoil of the moment, having nothing to do with physical desire. Thankfully, the odd sensations began to fade by the third day, leaving her with simple revulsion for Joel Cameron. Now, the way he was insinuating himself into her sales department became too troubling to avoid.

“What are you doing making agreements with my clients without my knowledge!” she confronted him in his office. This was her first visit there, and the setting was a surprise. It looked as if he were permanently lodged in what should have been just temporary quarters. His desk was new, as nice as hers, the bookcases were filled with his personal mementos, and there were expensive prints hanging on the way, and two fresh potted plants by the window.

“I was taking care of business that you didn’t have the time to do,” Joel brought the stunned Samantha back to the present moment.

She turned to him, noticeably incensed. “I have plenty of time to do my work, as long as I don’t have to be looking over my shoulder for your nosy face!”

“Better watch what you say, Miss Brinkman,” he sounded threatening. It didn’t help that just inside her peripheral vision, she could see the spanking paddle lying on Joel’s neat desk next to his nameplate.

Easing off to a mere simmer, she answered him pointedly, but with a deliberate air of calm in her voice, “I will say anything I damn well please, Mr. Cameron.” She could feel her whole body quake as she plastered a smile on her face and looked into his sexy eyes. She thrummed the desk surface with her fingers, nervously. “Trust me, I will get you fired,” she added her own threat.

“You might,” he conceded. “But until then, I’m still in charge here, and as far as I’m concerned, you’ve earned another go round over my knee, with the paddle this time.”

Samantha immediately reached for the wooden implement to take it away. But Joel was as quick with his hand, covering hers, extending his warmth and his determination into her.

“I have left you alone, Mr. Cameron. I hardly think my behavior warrants punishment.”

“And that is the point. You’re letting your work slide in fear of me.”

“I am NOT afraid of you!” she jerked her hand away and stepped back.

“No?” he snickered while he slowly waltzed around the desk, picked up the paddle and stared Samantha down.

“No! And I haven’t let my work slide. You have no business here. You have no business working directly with my clients…” The more she talked, the redder her face became, the more she breathed heavily and her body shook. Three days worth of suppressed feelings were pouring out like a river spilling its banks. She was disguising nothing, neither her fear nor her physical arousal.

“I beg to differ, Miss Brinkman. Three of our clients have called in a stew because you didn’t get back to them with new price quotes. You missed a meeting with Robert Halsey on the 23rd and you failed to file the proper reports to the accounting department for the Youngs account, which meant that their billing is fucked up. I’d say that something is amiss.”

Joel moved to the half-closed door and shut it firmly, then drew a straight-backed chair from the side of the room and set it in the open space in front of his desk. He refused to move, but stared her down, saying gravely, “Come here.”

There was no way for Samantha to escape the room save going through Joel Cameron; and that looked impossible at this point with his powerful stance blocking her only exit. How could she have gotten herself into this position? Yes, everything he said was true. Her whole business life had been effected by this stupid arrangement, and the man had completely unnerved her, leaving her distracted and unfocused, hardly like herself. What was worse, he’d seen fit to rescue her from three near disasters of simple forgetfulness, and she owed him for that.

“You know, this is all your fault,” she seethed. “You’ve done more damage than good.”

“That’s only because you haven’t learned to work with me.”

“With that paddle hanging over my head! How am I suppose to work?”

“Accept it, Sam. It’s part of your working life right now. You earn it, you get it.”

“If you think I’ll readily submit to my father’s archaic idea of punishment, you’re more stupid than I thought.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. You’re going to submit to a spanking right now, without my forcing you into anything.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I don’t think so, not when you see the alternative. Trust me, you’re not getting out of this office until you go over my lap.”

“You think just because the door is over there that I won’t fight my way through?”

“No, I think you’ll go over my lap, because if you don’t now, I’ll be paddling you bare bottomed in front of the next director’s meeting.”

“Ah,” she sighed with contempt. “I don’t know how you get off making these ridiculous threats, but …”

“I’m filing daily reports to your father and the board on my observations. What happens in this room right now will have a huge bearing on what I put in my email today.”

“That’s blackmail.”

He shrugged. “I prefer to think of it as cooperation. Every misstep, every forgotten meeting, every faux pas with your clients will go down in my next report—unless…” he looked toward the chair, while lightly tapping the paddle inside his palm.

Her entire face burned hot with embarrassment.

“If I do file the complete truth, which I can easily document, the board—with your father at its head—would find it only fitting to mete out a good old fashioned punishment. They are as antiquated as he is.”

“Good God, I can’t believe you’d do this!” Her once hot face was turning pale, as the facts sunk into her weary brain.

“It’s a simple solution, Sam.”

“Don’t call me Sam!” she repeated her previous request as sassy as ever.

“I’ll call you anything I like.”

Samantha closed her eyes in order to think, only to have the vivid image of Joel Cameron spanking her come quickly to mind. Shaking off the hateful picture, her eyes shot open; and then almost without thinking, she made up the six steps to his side. “Get it over with,” she announced.

Joel smiled. He’d won. Taking his seat in the chair, he quickly guided Samantha over his lap and raised her skirt. This time, much to his surprise, she was wearing a garter belt, stockings and a pair of lacy thong panties. What a find! Her bottom was round and smooth, quivering lightly, the glare of the overhead light making the surface shine. Two dimples at the tops of her cheeks, he’d not noticed the first time, winked at him, almost invitingly. He loved women headstrong, and Samantha was perfect in that regard. He loved his spanking subjects attractive with plump asses, and her body seemed made for the treatment.

Lifting the upper band of the thong, he slowly pulled the fabric from between her cheeks. This wasn’t necessary in order to have his target naked, but it added to her humiliation, and at this point humility was important if he was to teach the woman anything. As he pulled the tiny thong to her knees, he noticed the cotton crotch, curiously wet in the center. Was it possible that the scene aroused her? He hoped so, he could feel his own crotch warm, his penis throb and threaten to make itself erect. Ignoring it now, he centered his attention on the task, holding the nervous woman around the waist as he’d done before, and running the smooth business end of the paddle over her cheeks. Drawing his hand back, he then brought it firmly down on her left ass cheek, following the simple motion with a smack to the right one.

Smack! Smack! Smack! The blows repeated from one cheek to next, each one gaining in strength, each one sure to sting a little more than the one before.

Samantha’s resignation was purely accomplished in self-defense. No way would she see her faults written up like gym class demerits, fuel the grave board of directors acting as her daddy’s stooges would use to indict and punish her.

Beyond the necessity of submitting to this horror—just to avoid another, Samantha found the position over Joel’s lap not only embarrassing, but oddly intimate. His arm around her waist was patronizing, at the same time comforting. The blows to her were initially sharp but curiously arousing. Only when he proceeded to lay a good dozen on the same spot of each cheek did the perplexing mix of opposing feelings suddenly vanish. What started out to be mildly pleasant in a twisted sort of way turned miserable in seconds. The sting of the repeated smacks soon proved unbearable and she began to thrash and twist, groan and sputter. The force of the wooden paddle was much worse than the strike of his hand had been. Her protest only gained in volume the more the spanking stung.

“I’d be careful how much you caw and rant, Miss Brinkman,” Joel warned.

But she couldn’t help herself. The pain was biting and getting worse, helped only when he moved to another target on her ass—although any relief was momentary. Everywhere he struck soon turned into a flaming fire.

“Yeeeeeouch!” she finally wailed aloud unable to contain her misery. She twisted hard to get away, managing to squirm half off his lap. But Joel pulled her back to him, clamped on tighter and kept up the smacks. “Please, I can’t take any more,” she begged him in a loud and breathy whisper.

Joel changed his tactics, but only to lay several solid smacks on the back of her thighs.

“Yikes!” she roared, wrenching herself as hard as she could.

He resumed the spanking, targeting her wounded ass, delivering a few finishing strikes that made her entire body bounce.

Samantha wanted off Joel’s lap when he was done, but he held her to him for several seconds until she’d stopped huffing and puffing and he’d caught his breath himself. He then dropped the paddle to the floor and replaced it with his hand, just resting it on her scorched behind. The skin throbbed against his touch, while he wondered if she was feeling the same things he was. She squirmed a little, unsure.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you enjoyed this,” he stated at last.

Once the comment fully registered, Samantha shot up off the man’s lap and stood before him panting, “I did not!” she swore.

As I said, “If I didn’t know better…”

“Don’t start reading anything into this, Joel Cameron. I did it because you blackmailed me. No other reason.”

Despite her protest, Joel was pleased, especially pleased because she was standing in front of him, half naked, completely unaware that she was exposing her pubic mound for his interested gaze. The lovely triangle of her neatly-trimmed, blonde bush glistened with the hint of female dew.

“What are you staring at?” she suddenly became aware of how she looked. Without waiting for him to answer, she surmised the truth, bent down and plucked her thong from the floor and pushed down her slim skirt. “Are done with me?” she asked.

“No, I’m not done,” he answered, sternly. He picked up the paddle so that she wouldn’t miss its implication, but he remained in his seat, looking up at her flushed face. “You’re going to get spanked regularly, Samantha. You need it, you beg for it, you even want it.”

“No.” She shook her head.

“You won’t convince me of that. I see the truth in the way you look now.”

“How do I look now?”

“As if a year’s worth of worry has been swept aside.”

“I can’t imagine why that would be,” she replied a little meekly, retaining only a little of her signature haughtiness.

“You think about it, Samantha,” he said as an order.

“Don’t count on it,” she countered quickly.

“I’m betting you won’t be able not to.”

“Then that’s a bet you’ll lose.”

As dazed as she was, she almost felt as though she needed permission to leave. But getting her bearings, she gave the man a look of total bewilderment and quickly scooted out of his office.