It was barely noticeable at first. Nothing astronomical or company threatening. In fact, she probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t gotten used to a very specific way of things being done. It was like when someone shifted all of the furniture in your living room three inches to the left. It wasn’t much but you noticed. And Miranda noticed when her assistant started doing things that annoyed her. Little things like returning from an errand five minutes too late, talking too loudly, choosing the wrong lip color. Miranda allowed her first assistant a pass for most of the grievances, but when her coffee came in just a few degrees too cold she couldn’t ignore it.
Miranda clenched her fist underneath the desk. It was even taking the girl too long to answer her summons.
“Yes, Miranda,” she chirped once she eventually made it to the door.
Miranda waved her hand towards the door, watching over her glasses as Andréa closed it. She took the glasses off, setting them down on the desk. She simply stared for a moment, noting once again the hideous purple lipstick that Andréa had chosen to wear. And with a green dress, no less. A very revealing green dress , Miranda thought, noting the cleavage that was accentuated by Andréa standing with her hands behind her back.
Mirana inhaled, sitting back in her chair. “Andréa, do you know how many times I’ve considered firing since you’ve become first assistant?”
Miranda paused, an eyebrow arching. “...zero, Do you know how many times I’ve considered firing you since this morning?”
Miranda glared. “Including right now? Too many to count.” Miranda leaned forward. “What is going on with you? And cut the ma’am crap.”
Andy looked down, scuffing the toe of her foot on the floor. “I’m sorry, Miranda. I’ve been a bad girl.”
Miranda hesitated for a moment. Something about Andréa’s tone was odd. Her voice was higher, airy and far too innocent. And her choice of words… In a flash she understood. “Andréa, we are at work. This is extremely inappropriate.”
Andréa looked back up, doe eyes wide and innocent, but with a telling gleam in them. “What’s inappropriate?”
“I told you that we would not be performing this scene in the office.”
Andréa moved forward slightly. “But I’m being so naughty .”
Miranda swallowed, struggling to gather moisture in her mouth as Andréa came to stand in front of the desk. “And you will be punished for that. At home .”
Andréa tilted her head, waves of brunette hair falling down her shoulder. “Can you really wait that long?” She looked down as she traced her hand across the desk, placing a light and teasing touch on Miranda’s wrist. She peered up from thick eyelashes. “Are you going to make m e wait that long?”
Mirana could feel her breath quicken. It was so tempting, so very tempting. Here was her beloved, offering herself up on a silver platter. “I-.”
There was a knock at the door. “Miranda,” Nigel said on the other side. “The trembling tree branch at Emily’s old desk doesn’t know why your door was closed and Six is nowhere to be seen. Scream once if you’re okay and we can do the run through and twice if you’re dead and we can all go home early.”
Miranda blinked, running her hand through her hair. She stood up, walking on slightly unsteady legs to Andréa, leaning forward to whisper, “We will continue this conversation later,” before nipping Andréa’s ear. She walked over to the door, opening it. “Now get out of my office and do your job before I find someone else who can do it better.”
“Oh my,” Nigel murmured, watching Andréa stride past. “Someone just got a tongue lashing.”
Miranda couldn’t help but smirk. “That was merely a warning. The tongue lashing will happen later.”
Later came that evening once the majority of the office had left. Miranda watched as one by one, employees passed by her office to get to the elevator. Even the second assistant (whose name escaped Miranda at that moment, and most moments), left for the night. Finally, almost every light in the office was turned off and silence reigned.
Miranda picked up her phone, dialing the extension to the art department. “Leave the Book on a desk and I’ll come down and get it before I leave. I don’t want to be disturbed tonight.” She hung up without waiting for a response, confident that her orders would be followed.
Speaking of following orders… “Andréa,” Miranda called. She made a show of not paying attention when her assistant entered the office. She stared at her computer, occasionally clicking the mouse and typing on the keyboard. The computer wasn’t on, but Andréa didn’t need to know that. All she needed to know was that Miranda was in control tonight and if Miranda wanted to take her sweet time, then she would.
Andréa barely made it two minutes before she began to squirm, shifting back and forth on her black slingback heels. Miranda held back a smirk, clicking the mouse definitively before turning to stare up at her chosen prey. She looked Andréa up and down, noting the lidded eyes and the slight blush, the heavy breathing and fidgeting hands hanging at her side, the parted lips- still coated in that fucking purple lipstick.
Miranda stood up, walking over to the couch at the side of the room. She patted the seat next to her, watching as Andréa came to perch beside her. Miranda leaned forward, plucking a Kleenex from a box on the low table in front of them. She held it out to Andréa. “Take that ridiculous color off of your mouth.”
“But I like it,” Andréa said, voice approaching a whine.
Miranda’s eyes narrowed. She allowed a moment to pass in stillness, for all of the possibilities of retribution to flash through Andréa’s mind. Then her hand flew up, tangling itself in Andréa’s long tresses. She yanked, hard enough to pull Andréa’s head back but not hard enough to hurt too much. No, the pain would come soon. “Tell me, Andréa,” she murmured, leaning forward to ghost her lips along Andréa’s neck. “Do you like disobeying me?”
She could feel Andréa’s gulp against her mouth. “N-no, ma’am.”
Miranda took a deep breath, basking in the light perfume at Andréa’s pulse. She let the breath out in a heavy sigh. She couldn’t help placing a trail of open mouthed kisses along Andréa’s neck. “I find that hard to believe, considering how naughty you were today. Failing to perform your duties as first assistant, teasing me in the office, that offensive color.” Miranda ran a hand down Andréa’s neck, stopping where the collar of her dress ended. “And dressing like a harlot. How shameful.”
“I just wanted your attention,” Andréa whispered, her voice trembling.
“Well, now you have it.” She released her hold on Andréa’s hair and relaxed against the couch. “Over my knee.”
Andréa brought her knees onto the couch, crawling forward to lay across Miranda’s lap. She scooted forward slightly, her hands falling over the side of the couch. “H-how many,” she questioned as Miranda pulled her skirt up to lay across her lower back.
Miranda hummed, taking a few moments to admire the bare ass before her. Somehow she wasn’t surprised at all that her partner had decided to go without underwear that day. She laid a hand on Andréa, rubbing back and forth slowly. Her other hand went to her girlfriend’s hair, scratching her scalp lightly. “How many do you think is fair?”
Andréa squirmed as she considered the question. “Twenty.”
Miranda paused. “My, oh my,” she chuckled as she removed the ring and watch from her right hand, tossing them on the floor. “You really are a naughty girl aren’t you?”
The first strike was light, a tease. The second was louder, but more sound than sensation. The third was solid, causing a slight pink color to bloom on Andréa’s skin. Miranda took a moment to caress, appreciating the moment. She wasn’t sure how she came to be here, with her assistant-cum-girlfriend in her lap squirming and moaning softly. She was struck with a sudden bout of sentimentality and affection. A sudden desire to give this girl anything she wanted, to lay the world at her feet. “My sweet girl,” she whispered. Her next three strikes were in fairly quick succession, making Andréa gasp. Her next four swats were slow, powerful thuds, causing Andréa to cry out after each hit. Miranda closed her eyes briefly to savor the sound.
“So beautiful,” she murmured. She leaned forward, placing light kisses on the heated skin of Andréa’s ass. “You’re halfway done, okay?”
She saw Andréa nod. “Okay.”
Miranda counted the remaining slaps in her mind, transfixed by the ripple of flesh and muscles each time she came into contact with Andréa. Transfixed by the symphony of sounds she created; skin meeting skin, deep monas, keening cries, breathless begging. Everything fueled her own reactions. The heaviness of her breathing, the stinging of her hand, the heaviness of Andréa’s body against her legs. Every part of this erotic scene struck her between her legs, and she could tell from the glistening on the tops of Andréa’s thighs that her girlfriend was just as effected.
Miranda paused. “Last one,” she said. “How do you want it?”
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. “Hard,” Andréa panted.
Miranda traced a pattern against Andréa’s skin. “Are you sure?.”
Miranda slid her hands down Andréa’s thighs, at one point dangerously close to the center of Andréa’s desire. “Beg.”
“Please ,” she moaned, arching her back, pushing her ass up towards Miranda. “Please, ma’am, I deserve it. I was such a bad girl and I’m so sorry. I want to make up for it, I want to be good, I want to cum, I want-!” Andréa broke off in a wordless cry as Miranda’s hand fell upon her for the last time.
Before Andréa could draw breath after her scream, Miranda buried two fingers inside of her.They moaned in unison. Mirana closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of Andréa fluttering around her. Miranda stroked along Andréa’s walls, marveling as always that this gorgeous thing was so wet for her. So wet and hot and tight and hot. She moaned again as she drove her fingers in and out of Andréa, placing her other hand on the back of Andréa’s neck to keep her from writhing. “Shhh, dearest,” she said. “You don’t want someone to hear, do you?” She pounded into Andréa, feeling her girlfriend start to pulsate around her. “Or do you want them to hear? Do you want them to know that you couldn’t wait until we got home? That you threw yourself at me like a bitch in heat?” She felt Andréa clench. “Alright then, go ahead. Let them know. Let them know who you belong to. Let them know who spanked you like a naughty school girl, who’s fucking you right now.” She groped Andréa’s ass. “Cum for me.”
Andréa threw her head back, letting out a long cry that petered out into a whimper. She went limp, her body quaking uncontrollably in Miranda’s lap. Miranda helped her up, placing a pillow in her lap so Andréa could sit on the cool, soft fabric. She leaned over, picking up the discarded kleenex to wipe at the sweat on her lover’s brow. Miranda plucked another tissue from the box, rubbing off the purple lipstick on Andréa’s mouth.
“This really is a horrible color on you, darling.”
Andréa laughed, still breathless from her orgasm. “It’s not even mine. I stopped at the art department and borrowed it from Emily this morning.”
Miranda leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Well, never do that again. Emily’s lipstick looks best on Emily.”
Andréa hummed. “So what lipstick looks best on me?”
Miranda ran her fingers through Andréa’s hair, putting on her best thoughtful expression. “Why, nude, of course.”
Andréa giggled, wrapping her arms around Miranda’s neck. “I think you’d look much better in that.” She leaned forward, nibbling at Miranda’s ear.
Miranda clicked her tongue. “Not so fast, darling.” She pressed against Andréa’s shoulders. “We’ll need to go home for that.”
Andréa leaned back, tracing her fingertips down Miranda’s jaw, staring down at her with dark eyes. “Then take me home.”
Miranda swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”