Paralegal's Punishment

Special thanks to allabout me for editing this story! You were awesome.

*****

Rachael stirred her vanilla yogurt with a plastic spoon as she stared at her computer screen, waiting for a PDF file to upload. She licked her lips as she swallowed down a spoonful of the sticky white glob, with a sigh moving around in her seat slightly. It was just another dull Friday morning at the Law Offices of Marc Silverstein. Just as the file finished uploading, Martha, the office's secretary walked in and waved.

"TGIF" the middle-aged woman said and smiled at Rachael as she sat down at her desk across from the lobby. "Heard anything from Marc about the expansion?" Martha asked in lieu of her usual good morning

Rachael shook her head. "Nope. I thought he was going to tell us by this week for sure if we were hiring more people. At least another attorney."

Martha shrugged and booted up her computer. Rachael crossed her tanned legs under the desk, feeling her bare, smooth skin touch. She loved the feeling of being fully shaved and fully waxed. She had another blind date tonight, but with any luck, it might go into tomorrow morning. She spent last night at the waxing salon just in case. Thank God it was July, the heat was always a good enough excuse not wearing tights.

She skimmed through the PDF full of medical records before Marc finally made it into the office. "You're late again," Martha teased.

Marc's smile could win over any woman, and Martha was no exception. One smile and she suddenly forgotten about his tardiness and was instead asking if he wanted a cup of coffee.

He nodded, and with a simple "yes please," Martha bolted off to the kitchen, eager to assist. "Morning Rachael," Marc turned to her, smiling again.

Rachael hated that her boss was attractive. Almost ten years older than her, but he was still in his prime. His thick locks of gold hair fell in tidy waves, almost touching the collar of his tailored black suit. His green eyes sparkled when he smiled, and despite the budding crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, he still looked youthful and ready to take on a challenge.

Rachael crossed her legs tighter, lessening the tingling sensation that was building up around her clit. She leaned forward and arched her back slightly as her nipples puckered. Must be the air conditioning.

"Morning Marc," she replied.

She took a large spoonful of vanilla yogurt and slid it into her mouth. She stared into his eyes as inch by inch, she pulled the plastic spoon from between her lips, until it slid out with a soft pop. A droplet of white yogurt dripped onto her bottom lip. Marc's smile disappeared. The spark in his eyes heated to a full on blaze.

"Coffee?" Martha chimed in, thrusting a Styrofoam cup into Marc's hand before returning to her desk.

"I'll be in my office," he said, his eyes lingering on Racheal for just another moment.

"Don't forget you have your settlement conference this afternoon," Martha called out to him.

He smiled at her again before closing his door.

The hours passed slowly, as it always did on Friday's. Rachael skimmed through some discovery records as she imaged her blind date tonight. She knew almost nothing about him, other than that his name was Henry and he was a friend of a friend. He did something in marketing, he liked dogs and women with big asses. Rachael knew she, at least, fit his type then.

Her ass had gotten her hired at Hooters back in college, where she was able to pay most of her student loans, thanks to the generous tips from perverts in their large city. In a city with a few million people, there was an abundance of perverts with thick wallets. Red lipstick and charm seemed to get her anything she wanted back then and even through her last job. She had been promoted from secretary to a paralegal in less than two years. Rumors had flown around the office about her sleeping with her boss for the promotion, but she had never even thought about that as an option. She wouldn't stoop so low.

Rachael took a hair clip from a drawer in her desk and swept her long, dark brown hair into a bun before clipping it up and away from her face. She applied a fresh coat of red lipstick after finishing her yogurt.

"You should leave your hair down more, dearie," Martha suggested. "It matches your pretty brown eyes."

Rachael blushed. Martha was always quick to hand out compliments. The sweet woman had been working for Marc since he started out at a mid-sized firm, fresh out of law school. When he decided to open his own firm three months ago, Martha went along. Rachael had wondered if she saw Marc as a son, a man or just as a good boss.

Before Rachael could respond, the phone rang. "Good morning, Law Office of Marc Silverstein."

"May I please speak to whoever is handling the motion for Spark vs. Hunt, This is Mary Jones?" said a high pitched woman on the other line.

"This is Rachael, how can I help you, Mary?" She asked, beginning to pull up the file.

"I'm trying to confirm the deposition of your client for this morning? I left a message for you yesterday but no one got back to me," She sounded irritated but tried to hide it.

Rachael rolled her eyes. Defense Counsel Offices were always irritated about something. "One moment, let me pull up the case file."

Rachael skimmed through the file and saw the court order, clear as day, but no letter to their client. A small feeling of panic rose in her chest.

"One moment, I'm sorry," Rachael said, turning quickly to grab the thick redwell folder from behind her desk.

"You did agree to this deposition, remember?" Mary stated annoyingly on the other end of the phone.

"Yes, yes I remember," Rachael snapped as she shuffled through a folder labeled correspondence.

Rachael thought she heard the woman mutter something like 'bitch' on the other end but she ignored it. Her eyes closed as she thought quietly to herself, 'No letter. Fuck. Fuck! Marc is going to kill me.'

"Mary, can I check with our secretary and call you back. I haven't heard from our client yet, but maybe she has," Rachael said, trying to bide herself some time to straighten this out before she had to tell Marc.

"Alright, but it's supposed to start in half an hour. If your client doesn't show, we're going to file a motion for the sanctions to be against you. The sanctions we usually end going for are severe fines." She threatened.

Rachael bit her tongue about the comment and simply said, "Thanks." Before hanging up. "Bitter old crow," She added to the phone.

"You talking about me?" Martha joked.

"Martha, any chance you've heard from Eric Spark about his deposition today?" Rachael asked.

Martha shook her head.

"Fuck, Marc's going to kill me." Rachael dialed the client's phone number. Maybe by some miracle, their client could come in today. After a fifteen minute discussion with a very annoyed Eric Spark who was in fact out of town for a funeral, Rachael hung up the phone. Her yogurt threatened to come back up...

"Do we have any large boxes?" Rachael asked Martha.

"We should have some paper boxes in the copy room. Why?" Martha asked.

"Because I have a feeling Marc's going to fire me over this one," Rachael said before explaining what happened.

Martha sighed. "Best go and tell him now before it gets worse. The Defense Counsel might call him up in a minute and blindside him about this."

Rachael nodded and standing on shaky legs, she walked to the door and knocked. "It's open," Marc said.

Rachael went inside and shut the door behind her. "Marc," she said.

He turned in his chair, his smile slipped as his brow furrowed. "Looks like something's wrong," he observed. "What happened?"

Rachael told him what had happened, about forgetting to tell their client he had to appear for his deposition today. About the annoying secretary threatened to file a motion against them. About calling their client who wasn't available.

When she finished, her legs shook even harder. She shifted her weight, holding onto the back of a chair.

"I have some calls to make," he said, turning away from her towards his phone. He looked up the attorneys' phone number in the electronic file and said nothing to her. Rachael took the hint and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Well?" Martha asked.

Rachael shook her head. "He didn't say a word. Didn't even tell me to leave his office. I'd rather have him yell at me or something."

"You know he gets passive aggressive when he's annoyed. Don't worry, it'll pass. Besides, he'll be in his office all day getting ready for trial next week. This will be the last thing on his mind by lunchtime."

Rachael smiled. "I hope so."

Half an hour later, Rachael's intercom buzzed. "Rachel, come see me in my office. Bring the park vs Hunt file with you."

Rachael's heart plummeted into her stomach. Maybe she really was getting fired today. She took the file in her trembling hand and slipped her high heels back on her feet. She walked, each step clacking loudly around the lobby before she opened the door to his office. Marc sat, glaring at her, his green eyes looked almost blue, and the vein in his neck throbbed just above his white collar.

"Close the door," he said. His calm voice struck Rachael, filling her veins with an icy venom. She closed the door. "Lock it," he said.

Rachael's fingers fumbled and she turned the latch, the door lock clicking closed behind her. Panic began to rise in her chest like mercury in a thermometer put into boiling water. She felt more trapped and worried with each second.

"Sit," Marc commanded.

He watched her, his eyes trailed her every move as she sat in the chair, her long legs crossing over one another. Her skirt rose up enough on her thighs to reveal no stocking and no garters. Rachael followed his line of sight and noticed he was staring at her legs. She thought about straightening her skirt, but then decided this might work to her advantage at the moment.

"You fucked up," Marc said loud and clear, and she nodded.

There was no doubt she had messed this up, and now they had a mountain to climb to keep this case from getting fined or thrown out of court.

"Marc, please, it was a mistake. I know that." Rachael tried to defend herself.

"This was more than a mistake, Rach. This was completely carelessness on your part. I hired you to keep my files in order. To keep shit like this from happening. Now the question is, do I let this go, or do I find a paralegal who actually has half a brain." Rachael winced.

Marc pressed the intercom button. "Martha, I need you to do me a favor. Go to the bakery on 20th and main and get one of their vanilla cakes. Tell them to write Happy Birthday Anna on it. Today's my sister's birthday. Wait for it to be finished and bring it back to the office. Also, stop at Hallmark and get a birthday card for her please. Then when you get back, send a bouquet of flowers to her house. Her address is in my contact information on the computer drive. Charge it all to the company card. You got all that?" he asked.

"I'm on my way," Marta's cheery voice sounded through the intercom.

Rachael wanted to scream out for Martha to stay. 'Please, don't leave me alone with him...'

When they heard the door close as Martha left, Marc turned back to Rachael. "Stand up," he ordered. "And put the file on the desk." Rachael obeyed, standing and staring down at the red file on his polished oak desk. "Now put your hands on the desk," Marc ordered.

Rachael placed her palms on the cool wood, her chest leaning low, cleavage visible from this angle. Her mind was a whirlwind of confused thoughts and emotions. And her panties were starting to dampen a little. Why was this turning her on?

As if he could read her mind, Marc said, "Take off your dress." Then he stood up from behind his desk.

Rachael was frozen. Her hands couldn't move. Her feet couldn't run. She felt trapped. Her nipples puckered against the lace of her bra.

"I'm not going to fuck you," Marc said, walking around the desk to stand behind her. He towered over her, inches away from her trembling body. "Do it, now!" his rough voice fell over her in a rush, like standing beneath a waterfall.

Her hands moved and pulled her dress up over her head. She dropped it onto the desk and placed her hands on the wood.

Rachael winced as Marc's large, hard hands tugged at her bra strap, unhooking it and freeing her breasts. The straps slid down her shoulders. She moved her hands out of them and pushed her bra aside. Her entire body visibly shook, adrenaline spiked through her veins, her fight or flight instincts were not working at all. The cold air teased her nipples until they were at stiff, tight peaks.

She let out a soft cry of pain as Marc grabbed the hair clip and snapped it off her hair, breaking it into two pieces. He grabbed a fistful of hair and turned her around to face him. His lips came crashing down on hers, his free hand reaching up and pinching one of her tight nipples. Rachael let out a soft moan as his fingers teased her, circling around her breasts, flicking over one nipple, then the other. Shivers racked her body as pleasure slithered up and down her spine, pooling between her thighs. Her panties were beginning to soak through. If he didn't reach down and touch her there, he'd soon see for himself how aroused her body was.

Marc pushed her backward until her bottom pressed against the wood. He slipped two fingers beneath the skimpy lace and tugged her panties down to the middle of her thighs. Sliding his hand higher, he raised her just enough to set her bottom on the edge of the desk. He released her breasts, both of his hands grabbing onto her lace panties.

A loud tearing sound snapped Rachael back to reality. What was she doing? This was her boss! She made a move to get off the desk, but Marc stepped between her legs, pushing her back. "I'm not going to fuck you," he said again. He leaned low and took a nipple between his warm lips. Rachael moaned, and squirmed under his mouth, his tongue working the worries out of her body. She felt small, helpless under his body. A flash of excitement raced up her spine, and a droplet of her excitement leaked out between her thighs and onto the desk. She wanted, needed, something. But what?

The answer came when Marc's fingers reached out to stroke her clit. Rachael's' cry was so loud that the offices next door probably heard. Rachael's eyes closed, her head lulling back as Marc's fingers teased her in slow, methodical circles. The man definitely had enough experience to know what she needed.

Dry fabric crammed between her lips and Rachel's eyes snapped open. Marc's eyes glittered with excitement as the shreds of her panties were bunched up and stuffed into her mouth. A sharp tug on her hair caused Rachael to yelp in pain, but the gag stopped her from making more noise. Marc was pulling her off the desk by her hair and turning her around again. Her body slammed forward, pressed against the desk as Marc bent her over. Her heavy breasts felt cold against the wood, her cheek pressed against the desk.

Marc stripped off his tie and grabbed onto both of her wrists, trying them together in a tight knot. She struggled but could not free herself. Her heart thudded, she had to get out of there. She tried to stand, but Marc pressed her back down.

"I'm not going to fuck you," he said through gritted teeth. This time, Rachael wasn't so sure she believed him.

He pulled off his belt. The clicking of the belt buckle sent a paralyzing needle of fear through Rachael's body. She couldn't move. She didn't want to do this... 'WHACK!' The sound of the belt that came cracking down across her ass made her entire body stop. The sound and bite of the belt so deafening that she literally could not respond. 'WHACK!' The belt sounded again pushing her back into reality as the pain seared through her entire body. Her yell would have been heard by the entire state had the wadded up panties not been in her mouth. Rachael jumped, trying to get away.

"Stay still," Marc commanded. Rachael settled back onto the desk before the belt came down hard on her thighs. She yelped in pain as tears prickled her eyes.

"Did you think I was rewarding you for fucking up?" Marc teased, another strike hitting her left buttock. "Did you think you could get away from getting into trouble?" Another blow hit her thighs again. "Think you could walk into my office every day in those low dressed and short skirts and not expect me to do something about it?"

By his eighth blow, Rachael's tears streamed down her face. "Please," she begged through the gag, but she knew he couldn't understand her. By the twentieth blow, she was so aroused and frightened and sore she couldn't understand what she was trying to say anymore.

Marc dropped the belt. A rush of relief flooded through Rachael, her body sagging against the desk. He was finally finished with her, her quiet sob and his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. She heard a faint zipping sound before his hands pulled her ass cheeks wider open. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh on her hips, pulling her closer to him. The tip of his cock nestled against her opening.

Rach bucked and fought, trying to stand up, but Marc's strong arms pinned her down in place. Her entire body froze as he ground the very tip of his cock into her body, her body shivered as she closed her eyes. Inch by inch, he slipped his cock inside of her.

"I lied," he said hoarsely, plunging his cock further into her until he was sheathed completely inside her wet pussy. Her warm walls squeezed against him, trying to force him out. "I've wanted to fuck this tight little cunt for too long. I'm not going to wait," he said.

Rachael's tears blurred her vision as Marc pulled his cock out all most all the way, then slowly, at first, he drove back to the hilt. One long, slow thrust after another, his fingers gripping her tighter as he groaned at the fit of her pussy. He took his time, making sure her body could feel every inch of him invading her, taking her. It felt wrong, dirty, but her body was responding. Her pussy was getting wetter, dripping onto his cock now. Her clit felt sore and swollen. She needed to cum.

Her body began to rock back against him, her nipples rubbing against the desk as Marc fucked her harder and faster from behind. "Fuck, you have such a tight pussy. You're not a virgin, are you Rach?" She shook her head. "Good," he said before his hand smacked across her ass. Once. Twice. The third time, he fucked her harder.

Rachael could feel his cock beginning to swell inside her. He was close, so close, and she was just at the edge. Her body was tight waiting, hoping he would make her cum. Her pussy muscles squeezed on his cock as he stroked deep into her frame. He grips onto her hair yanking her back slightly as he dug deeper into her. His hand pushes around her frame to touch her engorged clit. He began stroking and tugging at her clit, slapping it lightly and grinding his hand down harder against it, as his cock drove faster into her.

"Come for me," he commanded, rubbing her clit harder as the first jets of his cum shot into her.

Rachael screamed into the panties as pleasure exploded from her clit, echoing throughout her body. Her body shook and the walls of her greedy pussy clamped down on his cock like a vise, milking Marc for the rest of his cum. His hot seed filled her deep in her lower belly, a few droplets leaking out of her as Marc pulled his softening cock from her pussy. He untied her wrists and fixed himself, putting his belt back on and grabbing a tissue to clean her juices off his cock.

"Go fix yourself up," he commanded, looking at her leaning across his desk. Her skin was flushed pink. Her ass was bright red and her pussy looked well used. "And next time, pay more attention to your work. I don't want to have to punish you again, Rach."