I have a low tolerance for irresponsibility, especially in young adults who should know better and who should have been raised better. Yet, my law firm keeps hiring summer associates with no respect for anyone or anything except themselves, and then sticking the worst of the lot with me. I know that the managing partner gives me charge of these baby lawyers because he feels that I am the best lawyer to whip them into shape, and most of the time I am. But, I’m sixty, and I didn’t go to law school and then work my way to being a senior equity partner in order to be a nursemaid to a bunch of second-years.

So when the two summer associates that I was assigned this year decided to leave early without permission or notice on the first Friday they were working here, the Friday before a Monday morning trial setting where it was going to be all hands on deck for the weekend, I was royally pissed. I was able to round up William after a few choicely worded texts went out to his cell phone, but by then he had already consumed several beers and wasn’t really in any shape to do any work. I sent him home with the command that he be in Saturday morning, no later than six and not hung-over. Lisa, on the other hand, did not respond to texts, e-mails or voice-mails the entire weekend.

William did make it in later Friday evening, and after consulting with the managing partner, it was agreed to dock him a day’s pay. Lisa, however, was surprised when she showed up an hour late Monday to find her belongings in a box in her cubicle with a note to see the managing partner.

I was equally surprised to see her in my office, still with her box, when I got back to the office from court at about nine that night. I was actually in a pretty good mood until then; we had spent the day arguing pre-trial motions that ended up being ruled almost exclusively in our favor, such that any trial would have been a lopsided affair. Opposing counsel, seeing the futility of trying the case as now postured, consulted his client and got permission to dismiss the case against my client late in the afternoon with prejudice and paying our taxable costs. I took the client and the team out for celebratory drinks and dinner, and was feeling pretty mellow as I strolled through the empty floor. Until, as I say, I saw Lisa.

“What are you still doing here?” I grumbled.

She jumped up as I entered my office. “The managing partner said to wait for you, sir, and to give you this personally,” she blurted out. Her hand was shaking as she passed me a sealed envelope. “He made it very clear that my future as a lawyer depended on it, that I was to wait as long as it took until you got back, and that any decision that you make would be final.”

So, the old schmuck was sticking me with terminating her. I was more than a little angry, and tore the letter in half and dumped it without even opening it. Lisa looked stricken. “Aren’t you even going to read it, sir?”

“I’m sure that there’s nothing in there that will change my mind.”

“Sir, please …”

I’m not sure why, but I fished the halves out of the trash and pulled the two pieces of the letter out, laying them on my desk. It was a handwritten letter on the managing partner’s letterhead, but it was not his handwriting, at least not the first part. As soon as I read the first sentence, it was clear that Lisa had written it. It was an apology, a promise to be better if I would give her a second chance, and an offer to accept whatever personnel action that I felt appropriate, up to and including termination if that was my decision. I was impressed that there was no pleading to keep her position.

At the bottom was a short addition from the managing partner: “I think this one is salvageable. She just needs a strong hand to whip her into shape.” His standard cliché.

“Well, Lisa,” I began, “I accept your apology. But, if you stay, you will need to similarly apologize to the team.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I’m not saying that you can, or will.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you write this yourself?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you know that the managing partner added a remark at the bottom?”

“No, sir.”

I handed her the letter. “Read it.” She did. “He seems to have a higher opinion of your potential than I do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not sure that I agree with him. And I’m not sure that you warrant the effort to ‘whip you into shape’.”

“Yes, sir… er, I mean no, sir … er …”

“What do you suppose a ‘firm hand to whip her into shape’ means?”

She gave me a curious look. “I’m not sure, sir. I guess whatever you think it means, sir. Overtime, doing more of the grunt work; I accept your interpretation of the matter.”

“Really, now?” I walked around her, taking her in. She was actually quite attractive. Deep red hair cut short that exposed a pale, sleek neck. Bright green eyes and freckles that made me think that the “the carpet matched the drapes”. Pouty lips, a slight but firm bust, and a thin waist above an ass with just the right amount of fullness and shape. She was wearing a very stylish, tight gray skirt and matching jacket, and a white silk blouse that wasn’t opaque enough to completely hide the color and texture of her black lace brassiere, semi-nude hose and mid-height black heels.

I remained quiet as I took her in. She started to fidget as the silence got to her. “Sir, is something wrong?”

“Do you suppose that he was being metaphorical, Lisa?"

“I’m not sure that I understand, sir.”

“You know,” I began, “in the ‘old days’, the phrase ‘a firm hand to whip her into shape’ would have meant you bent over the desk for a good thrashing.” Her eyes widened. “But with the #MeToo movement and all, that really isn’t an option anymore, is it?”

“Probably not, sir.” Her voice was shaky.

“Probably not!?” I barked.

I think she saw it as a test. “Well, sir. If one had the legitimate option of refusal, but agreed anyway …”

“A ‘legitimate option of refusal’? Hmmm, and just how would one document this?”

“A written contract.”

“What would be the consideration?”

“Retention of employment at the previously agreed terms.”

“Aren’t contracts for illegal purposes voidable and void?”

“Adult spanking, corporal punishment, isn’t illegal, per se, sir. Neither is sex between consenting adults.”

“Sex?”

“Well, sir, I’m assuming that the punishment would be on the bare buttocks, would it not?”

“I suppose so. But…”

“Well, there would be nudity; there would be touching of bare flesh. One might infer that the act had a sexual component.”

I couldn’t tell if she was still looking at this whole conversation as an exercise in the law, or not. So, I pulled a blank sheet of paper out of my printer and handed it to her with a pen. “Then write it up. Make sure that you specify that I will be using a belt, not my hand, on your bare ass, and the number of strokes. I think twenty should be enough, but feel free to increase that number if you want.”

Her complexion was already pale, but at my words, she went totally white. Still, she took the pen and paper from me, and in about five minutes produced a pretty comprehensive contract wherein she willingly, of her own free will and without recourse, authorized me to strap her bare ass twenty times with my belt in order for her to keep her job. There were blank signature lines at the bottom for the two of us when she handed it back to me. I quickly signed it and handed it back to her.

She held it, her hands shaking. “You weren’t joking?” she asked. “This wasn’t a test?”

“Lisa, this was your idea. I had every intention of just firing you. Why would I go to all of the trouble?”

“Sir, isn’t there any other…”

“I’m afraid not. The managing partner specified a ‘heavy hand’ to ‘whip you into shape’. You agreed, in your own handwriting, to abide by my decision. You also agreed to accept my interpretation of that instruction. You are free to reject the terms. Or, as you put it, exercise your ‘legitimate option of refusal’.”

She stood there for a moment, stunned. Then she got a look of resolve on her face. She turned and walked to the door, and I was certain that she was going to just keep going; so I was surprised when she closed it and locked it. She then came back to the desk, signed the contract, and handed it to me.

“Have you ever been spanked with a belt before?” I asked.

“No, sir,” she replied in a shaky voice as she removed her jacket and folded it over the chair, then stepped out of her heels.

“My dad would give us the belt when I was growing up,” I said. “It hurt like a bitch. We never got more than five strokes, and yet we still couldn’t sit for a few days. I suspect that your pain will last a lot longer. You should have asked for less. Let that be a lesson; always negotiate. Now, drop the skirt.”

Her fingers trembled as they worked the button and small zipper, then shimmied out of it and laid it over the jacket. I was expecting her to have on pantyhose that she would need to pull down, so I was pleasantly surprised to see an old-fashion style garter holding up classic hose with lace tops, and tanga-style panties. I could feel my member start to swell.

“Lower your panties to the top of your stockings,” I instructed. She hesitated, waiting to see if I was as resolute in the conditions as she hoped I wouldn’t be. When I said nothing, she complied, standing in front of me with her hands folded over her mound, attempting to preserve her modesty. “Oh, please, Lisa, is that really necessary?” She was turning red. “I mean, as soon as you bend over, I’ll see more than just your pubic hair.” She let her hands drop to her sides, revealing a surprisingly full bush compared to what I expect most of her female peers had, if they had any at all. And she was a natural red-head. “Very nice,” I said, as I unbuckled my belt and pulled it through the loops. I doubled it over. “Now, turn around and bend over the desk, lay flat, and grab the other side.” Keeping her legs locked together, she did so.

Bending over the desk caused her blouse to rise up and off her backside, so that the hem was now above her waist. The effect was to frame her perfect, pale ass-cheeks within her lowered panties at the bottom, her garter at the top, and the suspender straps down each side. The height of the desk caused her buttocks to be thrust slightly upward, so that the soft curve between the bottom of her cheeks and the tops of her thighs was just below the center of the “strike zone”. It was an incredibly inviting target. And, despite her attempt at modesty by keeping her legs together, her full, plump outer pussy lips were visible. But not visible enough to my liking. “Now, spread your legs.”

“Sir?”

“That was a pretty clear command, but I’ll repeat it on the assumption that you didn’t hear me. Spread … your … legs.” Her initial movement was imperceptible. “Wider, Lisa.” Her ankles were now a mere foot apart. I put down the belt, then reached between her thighs and roughly pulled them apart as wide as her panties would reasonably allow. “There, like that. Now, keep them there.”

“But sir…”

“Second thoughts, Lisa? We can tear up the contract if you want, you can collect your box and leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

“’Yes, sir’ what?”

“Yes, sir, I want to fulfill the contract.”

“Good choice, all things considered.” I picked the belt back up, and then stood behind her. I had to pause again at the sight of Lisa’s now fully exposed pussy and ass. “So that there is no disagreement on the count, you will call out the number of each stroke. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, her voice trembling. I couldn’t tell if it was in embarrassment over her revealing position, the fear of the punishment to come, or both. In any event, I drew back, and then whipped the belt as hard as I could square across the center of both globes.

CRACK!

“One!” she screamed.

I waited for the welt to rise. Drawing my arm back once more, I let fly.

CRACK!

“Two! Oh my god! Oh my god!” Her whole body was shaking. There were now two angry red welts across the mid-line of her backside.

When she had regained her composure, I laid yet another blow, this time lower, along the curve just above her thighs; her “sit-spot”.

CRACK!

“Three! Shit! Shit! Shit!”

CRACK! The fourth, as hard as the first three, landed square between the top two and the bottom one.

“Four! Fuck that hurts!” The bottom half of her ass was now practically one large welt.

CRACK!

I put number five across her sit-spot again. She had managed to keep her position for the first four, but as she yelled “Five!” she leapt up, holding her ass as she jumped around best she could with her panties trapped at the top of her thighs by her garter suspenders. She didn’t have much on top, but what she did have was bouncing up and down under her blouse within the constraints of her bra. “I can’t take any more! I can’t take another fifteen!”

I picked up the contract. “The agreed amount is twenty. If you stop now, you’ll have suffered the five so far for nothing. You’ll have a sore ass and no job.”

She saw the look on my face, then turned around and resumed her position over the desk. “Can you at least not hit me so hard?”

CRACK!

“Sorry, but no,” I chortled as I slashed the belt as hard as I could across the very top of her thighs.

“Shit! Six!”

CRACK! Another across the center.

“Aiyee! Seven!”

CRACK! Just below the last one.

“Eight! Motherfucker!

CRACK! Another across her sit-spot.

“Nine!” It sounded like she was on the verge of crying.

CRACK!

“Ten!” she screamed as she jumped up, holding her ass, her little titties bobbing up and down again. She had tears in her eyes. “I can’t take any more.” She continued, softer. “I can’t. I just can’t. Can’t we stop at ten, sir?”

“I don’t usually re-negotiate a contract in the middle,” I calmly replied. “Besides, I have no incentive to.” That was when she saw the obvious bulge in my trousers.

“You’re getting off on this?” I’m not sure why she sounded so incredulous.

“Of course I am. I’ve got you, a hot, half-naked young woman bent over my desk, and I’m whipping your beautiful ass whilst getting a great view of your pussy. And as an added bonus, your cute little tits bouncing around when you jump up and down. The only thing that would make things better would be if you were totally naked.”

I could see her mind working. Then, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, letting it slide off her shoulders. Next came the front clasp of her bra, followed by her pulling the cups away to reveal a pair of pale, firm, pointy 32B breasts; each capped with a bright pink areola and nipple. Areola puffy with arousal, nipples similarly hard. She knelt before me, running her hand up and down my cock from the outside before unzipping my pants and pulling my thick, veined, seven-inch snake from its lair. “So then maybe I can make it worth your while to consider renegotiating?”

“Please, Lisa, I have paralegals and junior associates of both sexes offering me blowjobs to get and keep their jobs all the time.”

“Okay then,” she replied, getting that business tone back in her voice. She unhooked the suspenders and let her panties drop all the way down and off. Turning around, she bent back over the desk and spread her legs wide.

“Let me clarify, Lisa. Blowjobs and pussy. What makes this good is that I get to spank your ass, as hard as I want, and you have to take it.”

I thought that I could see the mental calculation that I hoped she was doing. “So, this is about hurting my ass?” I nodded, assuming that she was going to resume the spanking. Instead, she reached back, gingerly took her strap-marked ass cheeks in her hands, and spread them, exposing the dusky rose between them. “You don’t have to spank my ass to hurt it.” My cock would have leapt across the room if it could. Then it occurred to me that if it was this easy for her to offer, maybe I was getting the old “Br’er Rabbit” routine; that she liked being fucked in the ass. “I’ve never actually done it ‘back there’,” she said, as if reading my thoughts. “I just figured that it would hurt. That’s what my girlfriends all tell me, even the ones that like it. And their boyfriends’ dicks aren’t as big as yours.”

I didn’t even ask how she knew how big their dicks were. I kicked off my shoes and shed my slacks and underwear. “You are a shrewd negotiator, Lisa. But if this is truly your first time, a dry-fuck up your ass might do some damage.”

“What’s a dry-fuck?” So, she was an anal virgin.

I stepped between her spread legs and gently took her hands from her ass. It was then that I noticed that, despite the situation, her pussy appeared to be moist. But, her lips were so tightly shut that there was only a drop or two at a time leaking out. I wondered if she was a full-on virgin, despite having intimated earlier that she would give me a blowjob or fuck me. I slid my finger between her lips, running deep across her opening. She shuddered and moaned. She was soaking. Her thick, viscous natural lubricant behind held back by the tight seal of her inner lips. I took another pass through her folds, this time ending it with a swipe across her clit as her juices ran out. She yelped, this time bucking backward.

“A dry fuck is when I stick my cock up your ass without lubrication.” I pushed my finger into her vagina up to the first knuckle. Where I met resistance. She was, it seems, a vaginal virgin as well. “Unlike your pussy, which makes its own.” She cried out as I pushed past the resistance, burying my finger. I could feel the ring of flesh comprising her hymen squeezing my digit as I commenced to slowly draw it out, then push it back in, brushing my thumb across her clit as I started to loosen her tight, sopping hole. She quickly accommodated this vaginal invasion, and was soon pushing back, cooing as I brought her close to climax.

I curled my finger and found her G-spot, which I began to stroke as my thumb continued to rub her love button. Her pussy was now flooded with her juices, as was the floor beneath her. Her breathing told me that she was quickly reaching her orgasm. “Ooh! Ooh! Keep doing that! Yes, there!” Just as she was on the edge, I pulled out, leaving her hanging. She groaned. “Why did you stop!?”

Any other time, I would have replaced my finger with my tongue, lapping at the fresh female meat being made available until my partner was cumming all over my face. But I had an idea. I quickly handed her the contract. “Cross off 'twenty strokes with the belt' and write in 'ten strokes with the belt and the taking of my virginities'.” She grabbed the paper so quickly I was afraid that she would tear it. She made the changes as fast as she could, without even thinking about what she was committing to. She was that desperate to cum. “Now initial the changes.” She did, then I did the same. I shoved my finger back in, giving her a quick, hard finger-fuck, and she came.

“Oh god! Oh god!” she cried as her body convulsed on my desk. I didn’t wait for her to stop; her pussy was still in the throes when I spread her lips, lined up my head, and pushed my way in. “Aiyee!” she screamed, as I tore, balls deep, through her membrane. “Wait! Give me a second! God that’s big!” This time I did pause, giving her sleeve time to recover from the sudden impalement. Then, reaching under her body, I roughly grabbed her small breasts, trapping the nipples between my fingers and squeezing tightly as I began to push in and out.

“Unh! Unh! Unh!” she grunted as I thrust into her newly tapped opening, over and over. She was tight, but she was also hot and wet as hell. So wet, but so tight, that as I sped up the tempo, it was a toss-up as to what was louder: the sloshing sound of our furious copulation or her vocalization of the new-found pleasure that my cock was giving her. Her pussy was like a too-tight pair of gloves, such that we both felt every inch as I pumped in and out. “Unh! Unh! Harder!”

She started slamming back against me, causing me to go even deeper, until I was bumping up against her cervix. Undeterred, she pushed back even harder. “Yeah, deeper! Harder!” When she finally came, it was all that I could do to keep from busting my nut as her pussy spasmed about my flesh-pole, soaking it in even more of her juices. But I had other plans for my ejaculate.

Whilst she was still in a state of orgasmic incoherence, I withdrew. I smeared large amounts of her girl cream up across her wrinkled opening, then lined up my coated cock. She was still distracted by her orgasm as I grabbed her bruised rear, spread her wide, and pushed my knob past her sphincter. “Shit!” she screamed at this sudden penetration. I fingered her pussy, spread the juice on my exposed shaft, and pushed again. “It hurts! Oh my god, that hurts!”

“I know,” I responded. “Remember, that was the point.” I forced the rest in, inch by inch, until my balls slapped against her newly deflowered pussy.

“But I only agreed to let you take my virginity,” she whimpered, as I started to saw in and out of her back hole.

With my cock buried to the hilt, I handed her the contract. “It says ‘virginities’, plural. Pussy and ass, unless you want to tell me that you’re an ‘oral virgin’ as well.” I resumed thrusting, doing my best to plow her asshole as well as I’d plowed her pussy.

At first, she had a death grip on my desk as I continued to plunder her poop-chute, grunting in pain as I kept at it. But when I reached underneath and started diddling her clit, she started getting into her first anal. She slapped my hand away. “Grab my tits again,” she begged, as she began pleasuring herself. I took hold of the small mounds again, using them for leverage. “Yeah, that’s it! Squeeze them harder! Fuck me harder!” she pleaded as her fingers worked fast and furious between her legs. Keeping my left hand on her tit, I began spanking her savaged bottom with my right as I continued to plow her brown spot.

“Yes! Yes! Hurt my ass! Spank me! Fuck my ass!”

I was surprised that I was able to hold out as long as I did. Eventually, the hot grip that her ass had on my burrowing dick was more than I could take. “I’m going to cum in your ass!”

“Yes, cum in my ass! Do it! Cum in my ass!” She was fingering her pussy, grunting and bucking back against me as she brought herself closer to her climax. I buried my cock as deep as I could, slapped her ass twice more as hard as I could, and we came, her tight ring contracting around my girth and causing me to send rope after rope of my seed deep into her bowels as we both cried out in sexual ecstasy. My nuts ached at the effort. We collapsed on the desk, breathing heavily; her finger still stuck up her cunt, my cock still stuck up her ass as I lay across her back. “I could feel you cum,” she finally whispered. Then, “God, that was fantastic!”

My spent cock started to lose its hardness until it slid out, followed by a river of my sperm. I stepped back, viewing my work: severely raised welts across her ass cheeks with the right one even redder with my hand prints from spanking her, swollen lips surrounding her freshly fucked pussy wet with her juices, a still slightly dilated anus, and streams of my cum and the blood from her ruptured hymen coating her asshole, pussy and thighs.

Lisa slid off the desk to her knees, mindful not to let her battered buttocks touch the floor. She looked at my semi-hard cock dangling down between my legs, sticky with our various liquids. Seeing her on her knees prompted the question that I raised earlier. “So, are you an oral virgin? Because if you are, I believe that the contract…”

“No,” she answered quickly, blushing, “I’ll suck a cock when I have to,” she continued, hefting my dick as if contemplating the thought, “or need to. How do you think that I’ve convinced my boyfriends to let me keep my virginity up until now?”

“You’re that good?” I asked, thinking that maybe I should have let her mouth do some of the work earlier.

“Guys will do, or not do, pretty much whatever I want for a chance to cum in my mouth,” she boasted.

A light went on in my head. “So, how was it?”

“Sir?”

“How was it sucking off the managing partner?”

“Which time, sir?”