Training the Secretary

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The new girl gets a filthy training plan.
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Everyone in this fictional story is over 18 and consenting. Play safe, people.

*****

Chapter One

Katie Parsons stared glumly at her screen as she agonised over her next move. Jobs in general were in short supply. Jobs in a little village like hers were like pots of gold at the end of elusive rainbows. Despite this, three days in and she seemed to be intent on losing the one that she had!

Not that it was that great a job, but when she'd seen the ad for a junior secretary at the local legal firm of Overbrook, Thewliss and Kneeshaw she'd been so relieved. The pay was average at best, but it was a small village and she'd finished college barely two weeks earlier, having (just) passed a secretarial diploma.

So, taking her mother's advice and making the best of what she had, she'd pulled on some black, seamed stockings, a tight black skirt that hugged her slender legs to mid thigh and a smart but fitted white blouse that clung to her surprisingly large boobs. Pulling her thick, chestnut hair into a ponytail and applying simple make up, she put on her glasses and looked in the mirror - yes, she looked every inch a male fantasy of a teenaged secretary. Surely the old men she expected at O, T and K would give her the job?

The interview with Mr Thewliss had gone poorly. Katie was eagerly flustered, and he fired questions at her rapidly. She stammered her way through, answering as best she could, but she was a nervous wreck by the end of the hour, and cried her way home on the bus. She knew that this job was the only one she was likely to get and her parents had made clear that she was not living at home for free, so if this fell through she was out on her ear.

However, her mum was waiting by the door - the firm had called and invited her back for a second interview. She was shocked, but delighted, and for the second interview she applied a little more lipstick and undid an extra button on her blouse, showing an inch or two more cleavage than anyone would consider professional.

She walked into the interview feeling more confident, but Mr Overbrook soon knocked that out of her as he was even more stern than his colleague. Not only firing questions at her about her qualifications, but belittling her experience and knowledge. It felt more like a dressing down than an interview, and she could feel her eyes welling with tears, but she sat still, silently, meekly accepting Mr Overbrook's condescension until he declared he'd heard enough (ironic as she'd barely spoken) and told her to wait for a moment whilst he consulted with a colleague.

Katie stared at her hands in her lap as she waited. She felt chastised, not interviewed, but just as she'd always done at home, at school and at college, she'd just submissively accepted this treatment. She never liked to cause a fuss and had often taken the blame for things she'd not even done. She was pondering where else she could apply for a role when the door opened and a slender, middle-aged woman with bobbed, blonde hair walked in and regarded her imperiously.

"Katie Parsons?" Realising it was a question, Katie nodded. "Vanessa Kneeshaw. Simon and Adrian seem to think you're the girl for the job and I trust their judgement when it comes to hiring staff. You know the wage on offer, I assume you know the hours?" Katie was rattled, but was aware that she appeared to be being offered the job. Again she nodded. "You are able to speak, I assume?" said Ms Kneeshaw, curtly, but continued before Katie could part her lips. "The probation period is a fortnight. If at any stage we feel your performance is unacceptable in that time, we'll consider disciplinary measures that are appropriate, including, obviously, termination of your employment. Sign here."

Katie took the contract that was suddenly thrust at her. From feeling ready to collapse in tears when Mr Overbrook had left the office, she was now ready to sing a song! She had the job. She hastily scrawled her name at the bottom, not reading a single word of the contract in her excitement, nor noticing the cruel, half-smile that flickered across Ms Kneeshaw's face. Her pretty face was grinning from ear to ear as she left the office.

But now, three short days later, she was sure she was soon to be fired. The first day, Wednesday, had been ok. The three partners had shown her to her desk, explained her duties - mainly filing, taking calls and assorted errands - and then told her to get started as they had client meetings. To say the induction was cursory was doing it a favour, but Katie wasn't afraid of hard work and reasoned that she'd figure things out as she went.

Things had started going wrong on Thursday, as things she'd apparently misfiled and jobs that she hadn't even known needed doing were remarked on with increasing irritation by the partners. She was certain she hadn't misfiled anything, but as was her way she'd apologised for the error in a meek voice. And now, at the end of her first half-week, she was awaiting the sack. Mr Thewliss had asked her for a file that she'd never even heard of, then whilst he was raving about how important it was and that she'd better not have lost it Mr Overbrook had accused her of failing to inform him about an important call.

She stammered that she'd not missed any calls as she'd skipped lunch to man her desk when the partners all left for the local restaurant and hadn't even gone to the toilet yet to ensure she missed nothing. At that he started raving too, calling her an impertinent liar. She was shocked, but retreated into her shell, apologising for her "mistake" instead of defending herself. Throwing his hands up in disgust he declared "Vanessa can deal with you, then!" and slammed back into his office.

"Parsons!" The intercom on her desk startled Katie, who jerked upright in her seat. Realising it was a summons, probably a final summons, she gathered herself as best she could and timidly walked into Ms Kneeshaw's office, gnawing nervously on her soft, bottom lip. She knew she should defend herself, argue her case, explain that there had been no call, no lost file, but she simply stood in front of the desk, head lowered, sniffing quietly. She could feel the woman's eyes staring at her.

Ms Kneeshaw inhaled deeply, then began to speak in a clipped, no-nonsense tone. "Day one was broadly acceptable, although I find that dressing like a cheap tart is not appropriate. However, I've been outvoted on that issue so your clothes can stay as they are. Day two...well, it started to go down hill. It was clear from the mess you made of Adrian's files that you were hopeless, so today's fiasco should not have come as a surprise. You understand that your performance has been intolerable?"

The only response Katie could offer was to start sobbing. The injustice rankled, but she lacked the force of will to argue her case. All three of the partners were so overbearing and her submissive manner could not stand up to them. "I'm sorry, Ms Kneeshaw," she choked. "I really needed this job...I'm sorry..."

"Goodness, girl. Stop crying. I'm not firing you on your third day." Surprised, Katie looked up, her pale, blue eyes shining with hope and tears. Ms Kneeshaw continued: "No, dismissal is the final stage of the disciplinary process as it is laid out in your contract. We're at stage one. Now, bend over my desk."

Ms Kneeshaw made this ridiculous request in the same matter-of-fact way she might have asked for a stapler. Katie simply stood still, staring at her blankly as the older lady stood and walked around to the front of the desk. "Come along, girl. Don't tell me that you didn't read your contract? It quite clearly states that 'any partner that determines failure on your part to complete your role can impose penalties in the form of spanking discipline' - though of course that is only stage one. Now bend over before you find yourself at stage two!"

Katie felt like she was having an out of body experience. On the one hand, she was delighted that she was not about to lose her job. But on the other, did Ms Kneeshaw seriously expect her to bend over the desk and submit to a spanking? She wasn't a schoolgirl! She was 18-years old and in a professional office. Katie was meek, not naive - she knew that some adults liked spanking. But not at work. This was ridiculous. She should say something!

But she didn't say anything. Instead she stepped forward and slowly, deliberately, bent forward across Ms Kneeshaw's desk. She gasped as she felt hands on her bottom, briskly pulling her tight skirt up around her hips to expose her stockings, suspenders and black, lacy knickers. She gasped again as her knickers were yanked down around her thighs, knowing that from this angle her pussy was exposed to the older woman's view, never mind her creamy, white bottom.

"Always on the bare, as per your contract," said Ms Kneeshaw.

Without further ado, Katie felt a sharp smack across her right cheek, followed seconds later by another on her left. This was no playful, erotic spanking of the type Katie had read about in erotic romance novels. This was a discipline spanking. Ms Kneeshaw landed one hard spank after another, barely a second between each blow, covering the whole of Katie's bottom from the top of the soft cheeks to the tender undertake at the top of her thighs. The stinging blows, one after another, became more painful as a cumulative effect of the spanking, and she wriggled involuntarily. This brought a sharp "Stay still, girl!" and a particularly painful slap across her thighs.

Katie realised that the spanking would be audible in the office, so both Mr Overbrook and Mr Thewliss would know how Ms Kneeshaw was punishing her. This was humiliating but, also, somewhere, it was...exciting? Another hard spank across her now red bottom drove that thought away and made her cry out. Thankfully, that seemed to be that.

"Right, get up, Parsons." She did, wiping tears off her face and awkwardly pulling her knickers back up over her sore bottom. "Now you can go apologise to my colleagues for your poor performance, then get yourself off. Home, I mean. And I expect better on Monday." Ms Kneeshaw sat down and turned her attention to the papers on her desk. Feeling ridiculous, Katie slowly backed out of the office, rearranging her clothing as she went.

Overbrook and Thewliss were waiting for her by her desk, both sneering lecherously. Surprised, embarrassed and upset, Katie swallowed what little pride she had and said "I'm sorry I lost the file and missed the call. I'll do better next week."

"You'd better. Lose another of my files and I'll take my belt to your behind, Miss Parsons!" snapped Thewliss. Overbrook looked more reflective.

"Now now, Adrian. It's not all about spanking that lovely bottom. Katie needs to be able to sit down whilst she learns not to miss calls - and you'll learn that on Monday!" he finished, sternly.

Twenty minutes later, Katie sat alone in her bedroom, her feelings a maelstrom. She was old enough to know she should be appalled at what had happened. Her bottom was stinging and still warm to the touch. She'd now read her contract and it looked like the work of a pervert, not a firm of solicitors. The list of penalties was detailed and preposterous. But, as she read it again, her fingers slipped inside the front of her knickers and she started to touch herself, slowly slipping a couple of fingers into her tight, hot pussy. She read the list of penalties through again, imagining having to endure them as she rubbed at her pussy and pressed her smarting cheeks against her bed, reminding herself of the spanking she'd been given as she shuddered and had the best orgasm of her life. Oh my god, she thought to herself. I actually want it to be Monday tomorrow!

Chapter Two

The weekend passed quickly, and Katie barely left her room. She'd always been bookish and insular so her parents were not surprised that they hardly saw her. However, had they realised that she'd spent most of her waking hours on her iPad looking at spanking pictures and reading spanking stories and wanking almost non-stop, they'd have been shocked! She was not sure what had gotten into her. Regardless of what her contract may have stipulated, the way that she had been spoken to and treated at O, T & K was clearly ridiculous and she knew enough to know that her case for constructive dismissal was strong - they'd basically assaulted her.

But she also knew how her body felt. The sore, sting in her bottom had been an obscure turn on, and the way all three of the partners had cruelly bossed her around had also excited her for some reason. Judging from the stories she found online, she was not the only woman on the planet to enjoy being submissive and being spanked, but it felt like a dirty secret that she had nobody to tell.

Consequently, as she walked to the office on Monday in a grey pencil skirt, smart but revealing black blouse and seamed stockings, she was actually hoping to get spanked again. Mr Thewliss had even suggested whipping her with his belt! That would surely be dreadfully painful - so why was she shivering in anticipation with erect, needy nipples?

When she arrived, only Mr Overbrook was in the office. He nodded a greeting, but otherwise ignored her as she made herself a cup of tea and went to sit down. At her desk, she was nonplussed to find her normal office chair had vanished, to be replaced by a simple, slightly concave, orange plastic chair of the kind you find stacked in school halls. Looking around, Katie couldn't see her chair anywhere, and Mr Overbrook glared at her when she started in his direction, so with a shrug she sat down and fired up her PC.

An hour later, neither Thewliss nor Kneeshaw had arrived, and Katie had passed the time at her desk typing up some case notes that had been left in her In tray. Nature having taken its course, the orange juice and coffee she'd had at home over breakfast and the tea she'd made at work were now demanding she pop to the toilet, but as she stood up, Mr Overbrook suddenly appeared before her desk.

"Going somewhere, Miss Parsons?" Katie blushed.

"I was just going to the ladies, Mr Overbrook."

" I see," he replied. Katie nodded and took a step away from her desk.

"And who will answer the phone while you are away?" Katie hesitated as she looked at his implacable face. "No answer? That's because the answer is nobody, isn't it?"

"But, the phone hasn't gone all morning - I'll only be a second."

He scowled now, an angry look crossing his face. "You will sit DOWN!" he suddenly bellowed. Katie jumped in shock, but obeyed, quickly resuming her seat in the plastic chair. "Thank you. Now, if you recall, we discussed this on Friday after Vanessa had finished spanking your bottom for you. Missing calls is unacceptable. You will sit there and ensure no calls are missed. Do not dare leave your post. Is that clear?"

Katie was unsure what to do. She really needed to go to the toilet. On the other hand, her pussy was hot and wet as a result of him telling her off, and defying him would probably get her the spanking she craved. On the other hand, if she waited a bit longer and then broke a rule, maybe Mr Thewliss would have arrived and she would find out if he really meant to whip her. Meekly, she decided to do as she was told for now, and nodded her understanding to Mr Overbrook.

"Good. But just so we understand each other, Parsons, if you think you'll get away with misbehaving when I am around and just getting a little smack like you got from Vanessa, think again. Cross me and you're out of here!" With that, he returned to his office, although he left the door open so he could watch her.

Katie was distraught. Although the list of punishments and humiliations in her contract had been the source of much of her masturbating over the weekend, there had indeed been sections saying any partner could fire her at any point for misconduct. She wanted to be spanked again - but not fired! But she really needed the loo - the nervous fluttering in her stomach when Mr Overbrook had been berating her had been replaced by a persistent ache as her swollen bladder demanded release.

Over the course of the next half hour, Katie wriggled and wiggled and shifted around in the chair. Her pencil skirt was tight around her thighs, so crossing her legs was difficult, but her thighs were squeezed tightly together. A look intense concentration was on her pretty face, and she had the heel of one hand jammed into her crotch. But she knew she was in a hopeless situation. It was not even 11am and he'd told her she could not leave her desk. That meant over six hours! She simultaneously realised that she had no chance of making it through the day without wetting herself at her desk, and that this was exactly what Mr Overbrook had intended. And this plastic chair meant that she'd be sitting in her own puddle, soon enough.

Katie's bulging bladder was painful and her face was scarlet as she sat blushing, eyes wet with tears of embarrassment as the need to piss hit her in increasing pulses. The pain was nearly overwhelming and there was nothing she could do. Either she was going to get fired or she was going to wet herself like a little girl. It was so unfair! And humiliating - she didn't believe that she ever had missed a call, and now this was her treatment. And what about when Thewliss and Kneeshaw arrived? How might they react to discovering their new secretary sitting in a pool of her own piss?

This thought briefly distracted Katie from the stabbing ache in her bladder. Surely wetting yourself in the office was unacceptable conduct? Maybe this could get her the spanking she'd been fantasising about all weekend? It would be awful and embarrassing to sit here and piss herself, but maybe it would pay off later. Even through her horror and discomfort, she knew that the idea was starting to excite her. She'd never realised that she was such a pervert!

BANG! "Stop daydreaming, girl!" Mr Overbrook had appeared from nowhere, and slammed his hand down on her desk as he shouted at her. Jolted rudely from her reverie, the sudden shock had a predictable effect. Katie yelped and thrust both hands into her crotch but it was too late. She felt a strong, spurt of piss jet into her knickers, soaking the cotton and trickling ticklishly between her bottom cheeks. She tried to stop, squeezing and rubbing her thighs together, pressing with both hands, but it was no good and with a hiss that was audible to Mr Overbrook, she sat in front of him and pissed herself.

Her warm, pale yellow pee gushed out of her, soaking her knickers and, as she had her hands pushed into her crotch, wetting the front of her skirt. It squirted between her legs, wetting the tops of her stockings but, thanks to the plastic chair she was in, most of it ran between her thighs and collected into a puddle under her bottom. The piss soaked quickly up the back of her knickers, all the way to the waistband, and the back of her grey skirt was very obviously wet too, dripping wet from side to side as she sat, red-faced, in the warm puddle.

There was so much piss that the puddle spilled over the front of the chair, dripping and splashing over the back of her calves and into a pool on the floor between her feet. Finally, the stream died off. Katie didn't even try to stand up or explain herself. She simply sat, head down, in front of Mr Overbrook and let him gaze upon her - the pretty, teenaged secretary who'd just wet herself in the office and was now meekly sitting in a puddle of her own piss.

"Morning, Simon. What's going on here?" Mr Thewliss' voice sounded jovial.

"Morning, Adrian. Good weekend?" Overbrook walked out of Katie's field of vision as he continued to talk. "The new girl just pissed herself at her desk. Can't even hold it like a grown up. I hope we've no clients coming in today."