Taming the Scribe Ch. 4

Jennifer was right, my work did improve. Whether it was the energy she brought to our group or the subconscious fear of having my ass blistered I don't know, but through the summer I turned out some of my best work and did not come close to missing a deadline. My analysis of the Bosnian situation was consistently on the mark and I knew Jennifer was scoring points with the top floor.

I had become intrigued by the situation in Chechnya and had written a proposal for a comprehensive study. My thesis stated that the Chechen rebels would certainly defeat the Russian Federation in a long war of attrition that would be a constant threat to the new oil and gas pipeline being constructed to the west from Baku. My preliminary research indicated the best policy for the new American administration would be to work covertly to increase the fighting strength of the rebels to the point where a settlement could be negotiated.

Jennifer was on a roll now and she told me she was pushing to have the study funded. One Monday I arrived in the office and saw a brief email from her advising me I would be attending a political fund raiser the next night. Our relationship was good and she teased me with her last line, an admonition to wear a decent suit "-- if you have one. J"

The Vice-President and the Governor of Texas were locked in a close duel for the White House that summer with most of the analysts calling it a toss-up. When I arrived at the stately Georgetown address I honestly did not know if it was a Republican or Democratic function -- and didn't care. I could tell you the ins and outs of most of the Balkan elections that year but really did not give a damn who became the next president of the US. When you work with the Outfit you avoid American politics if you're smart.

I wandered the crowd, enjoying the superb single malt provided by my host, or perhaps hostess. I still am not sure exactly who was throwing the party. Then I saw a stunning brown haired woman in a simple black cocktail dress. She wore it knowing it will always be in style on a beautiful woman and I knew, for that night at least, I was pulling for the Texas Governor.

Elizabeth worked as a staffer for the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and was as connected as anybody in Washington. Her eyes caught mine from across the room and the warm smile that beckoned me was genuine, a rare sight in a town of phonies hedging their bets that summer. Twenty minutes later I found my way to her side to say hello. She introduced me to a western Congressman as "Craig, who is doing a new study on Chechnya that we will all be taking a hard look at next year."

Grinning like an idiot I just mumbled something as Elizabeth winked at me. Jennifer had done it! The rest of the affaire was less than memorable and I was soon on my way. That week we moved into overdrive at the office and soon I was swamped with work.

Everything would have been fine if Yugoslavia had not heated up in September. My work on Bosnia was continuing but rumours out of Belgrade suggested Milosevic was on the ropes which would affect everything if the Serb despot was toppled. While I was away on a dark trip to the East for a couple of weeks, a contingency was activated which moved my deadline up a week to the October Monday I was due in the office: Milosevic's Socialist government was overthrown!

The thing about a dark trip is that it is exactly that. No one knows where you are or what you are tasked with. My contact was William, an old friend in Sarajevo and a veteran of the Outfit. He only knew I would transit to Istanbul, although I'm fairly sure he knew my ultimate destination. We had worked in the field together before and he knew the score. Jennifer would not be in the loop on this one as there were just certain things the DC staff didn't need to know about. That was policy.

I strolled into the office a little before 9am that Monday fatigued from my long journey but feeling good about the trip. I had accomplished a great deal. That happy feeling lasted only long enough for me to turn on the computer and check my emails. There was a scathing note from Jennifer telling me how disappointed she was in my failure to meet my deadline. She informed me I was to be at her office at 8:15 that evening.

I spent the rest of the day figuring out what had happened. I was in a jam because I couldn't tell her about the trip and even if I could it wouldn't matter. I had missed the deadline and for the rest of the day I was edgy with fear. A quarter past eight found me standing at her door and knocking firmly.

"Come in", she said.

I entered the office and approached her desk. She rose from behind it and I knew immediately she meant business. The dark charcoal jacket matched her above the knee skirt and set off the black sheer stockings to perfection, and as she came around the desk I saw the high heeled shoes. Still giddy from the trip and mentally fatigued I was no match for her. I felt a tingling in my groin.

Her lips were painted a darkest of crimson that said, "Fuck me ... if you're man enough." Her blue eyes were glazed over and seemed deepened in colour, the effect of her blouse which I could just make out under the jacket. In her right hand she held the paddle, tapping it at her side. My dick was getting hard.

That sorority paddle was about 18 inches long and probably five wide. I had thought about it a good deal in the days after first seeing it. It was well lacquered and I knew the half inch hard wood thickness would wear my ass out. As she twirled it expertly in her hand, something about it caught my eye and for the first time I knew real fear. The smooth striking surface now sported several holes which I knew cut down on air resistance and would add velocity to her stroke.

"Craig, you have really fucked up," she said as she kicked off her shoes. "I don't want to hear a single word out of that pathetic mouth of yours. Now drop your trousers." I did as she commanded, transfixed as she removed her jacket. Her blouse was a royal blue sleeveless satin creation which clearly demonstrated her breasts. If anything, those succulent beauties were even larger than I remembered and, with her breath coming quicker, I could clearly see them tease the fabric -- unhindered by any support. "Notice these holes?" she hissed, "I drilled them myself at lunch today and they're each half an inch across. When that chubby ass of yours gets ripped through these holes... well... I think you'll learn your lesson. My cotton briefs, now stained with a single drop of pre-cum, could barely restrain my bulging cock.

"Bend over here," she said while tapping the corner of the desk on my left hand side, "and grab the far end of the desk." I did and, as she leaned forward to slowly slide my briefs to my lower thighs, she whispered in my ear, "Craig I am going to give you twenty smacks on that sorry ass of your's to discipline you for missing the deadline. Try and be a man about it, however...." and with that she paused to give my ass a squeeze.

"If you move your hands from the desk or in any way try to avoid the paddle I will add a punishment phase to the session. That session will be of an intensity you cannot imagine. Now tighten that butt sweetie -- in thirty minutes you'll be a changed man!"

CRAACK!! The first swat took my breath away as it landed squarely on my sit spot just above my thighs. I tightened my grip and thought this wasn't too bad. CRAACK!! CRAACK!! CRAACK!! CRAACK!! The next four missiles impacted on the same spot within seconds of each other. I let out a guttural scream and buried my head on her desk. "Quiet you pussy!" she said. "Another word and I'll gag you."

The next five forehand smashes assaulted my left ass cheek with a ferocity that left me begging inside for the tender love taps of the first set. I knew what was coming with the next five but was defenceless as she pounded my right cheek and I began to sob as they landed. Tears were running down my face and I knew there was no way I could take five more of those bullets.

"Jennifer for God's sake, please stop," I begged. "I've learned my lesson."

"I'm sure you have," she said in an exaggerated Texas drawl. "That's why I'm going to make these last five so special! Now that you've learned your lesson darlin' I want to make sure you remember it."

With that teasing voice floating through my ringing ears she delivered the decisive blow. It was a low rising smack that caught me just above my lowered briefs, in a spot until then untouched by her butt blistering delivery. I jumped up screaming as I rubbed the fireball that was my ass with both hands. The next thing I knew she had her hand under my balls and gave them a crushing squeeze that dropped me to my knees.

"Damn you Craig! Now you've done it you little slut. Stand up and lean over the other side of the desk. I'm going to give you five penalty strokes now and if you move I swear to God I'll give you fifty! "she said through clenched teeth. She was breathing hard now and her face was flushed. Those blue eyes had a maniacal look that we used to call the thousand yard stare a decade ago when I was a hundred years younger. I bent over the right hand side of that desk and could only figure I was going to taste her backhand. Unfortunately I was correct.

In those few seconds she had calmed down some and began to tell me about her tennis game. I didn't give a damn. My ass was on fire as the raging sting overwhelmed any ability I still had to think and this bitch was babbling about her tennis game! I was scarcely listening as she told me her favourite player growing up had been Chris Evert.

"I just loved Chrissie,"she said in what sounded like a little girl's voice. "The way she always fought against that mean old Martina with her two handed backhand. I practiced it for hours growing up, and now I would like to share it with you Craig."

BOOOOM!! I heard the sound barrier broken a moment before I felt the impact of that wicked device delivering the hardest lick of the night. Within a millisecond the shock had raced to my brain as the perfectly placed swat re-ignited the fires on my sit spot from those first five delivered an eternity ago. Waves of pain engulfed me as the red-hot raw skin of my ass was squeezed through those punishing holes when her strong wrists snapped at impact.

BOOOOM!! The second explosion landed on precisely the same spot and I began to cry like a baby. Long sobs mixed with gasping breaths soon had me coughing and choking. Jennifer was chatting away about how important it was to make every stroke the same. "Its all about consistency Craig, you need to learn that. Now I think I'll teach you what I mean."

BOOOOM!! BOOOOM!! BOOOOM!! The last volley broke me, as my knees buckled and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I hugged that desk and cried for what seemed several minutes before Jennifer simply said, "Get off my desk Craig, and try pulling your pants up without shooting your wad all over my carpet."

I yanked my trousers up as I stood and, as I struggled to regain my composure, she cupped my chin in her hands as she had done once so long ago and gave me the softest kiss of my life. Those warm gentle lips seemed to breathe new life into me and when her tongue darted into my mouth I thought I would cum right there. I felt the heat from her flushed face as she leaned forward, those huge breasts crushed into my chest, and whispered in my ear, "I hope you learned your lesson tonight Craig, we're a great team and remember this was only business. But screw up again and I'm going to fuck you in the ass like there's no tomorrow. And sweetie, if that happens its going to be very personal -- because I've never forgotten New Orleans."

With that said she spun me around and gave me sharp slap on the ass that made me jump as I stumbled out the door. As I reached the elevator I could still hear her deep laughter echoing down the long empty corridor.