Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

J oseph

After Ingrid left the office, I leaned back in my leather chair, the polished mahogany desk in front of me reflecting the late afternoon sun streaming through the panoramic windows. My fingers traced the edge of a file folder absentmindedly, but my thoughts went elsewhere, following Ingrid to her cubicle.

I had dismissed her with a measured tone that had reflected only my determination to provide her with the discipline and the care she needed. I had kept the complexity of my thinking hidden as much as I could. Reflecting on the choice I had given her, to accept a severe punishment or decline discipline entirely, I tried to make certain I had done her—and myself—justice.

I was the guy, after all, who might well receive a reprimand from my own boss for Ingrid's silly outburst. And I was the guy who had to discipline the adorable, independent yet needy young woman I loved. I couldn't help but replay the events of the previous night.

As I had driven into her tight bottom, her pleading voice had echoed in my ears. "Please, sir, may I touch myself?" she had asked, her voice muffled in the comforter. The sensation of her little anus clenching around me had almost overcome my resolve, but I had held firm. "No," I had growled, feeling a dark thrill as her neediness grew. And I had added the note about how I wanted her ‘sharp' for the big meeting.

Ingrid had whimpered, frustrated yet obedient, her hands gripping the sheets instead of reaching for herself. Here in my office I couldn't help wondering if denying her had been the right call. Was it purely my animal impulse toward the pleasure of possessing her that way, or did it serve a deeper purpose in helping her explore her submissive sexuality?

Had I made a mistake? I supposed if I felt like I couldn't stand to get reprimanded by John Grappler, I had. But I definitely didn't feel that way. I could take a browbeating from John. More important, my dominant instincts also told me that Ingrid stood on the verge of a new step in her self-knowledge; the kind of achievement that only came from fucking up and then embracing the resulting growth.

The lingering memory sent a thrill of my own need, making my cock stir against my thigh as it stirred something primal within me. In my mind's eye I saw Ingrid in the moment after she had called the CEO an idiot. Her cheeks had flushed crimson, and she had fixed her eyes downward as if her life depended on not looking me in the eye.

Despite the breach of protocol, though, I had seen something admirable in the way Ingrid had responded to it. She hadn't crumbled; instead, she had showed resilience, a glimmer of growth that was hard to ignore—especially in her admission that she knew I had to punish her.

I tapped my pen against the desk, lost in thought. Ingrid was evolving, maturing not just as my executive secretary but potentially as a junior executive in her own right. I could see the potential within her, the delicate balance between vulnerability and emerging strength. Offering her the choice of accepting or declining the severe punishment would be another step in her development. It would test her resolve, her willingness to submit fully, and her understanding of the consequences of her actions.

A slow smile crept across my lips as I considered the implications. This decision wouldn't just impact Ingrid—it could also ripple through the office. Kevin, Louis, and Martin had performed exceptionally well over the past few months. Their dedication and results warranted recognition, and what better way to reward them than by involving them in Ingrid's punishment?

The thought alone filled me with anticipatory lust, knowing it would serve both as a reward for their hard work and a powerful lesson for Ingrid. It also held the promise to settle another matter for me. I had shared my secretaries with my team several times before, and all the participants had found the experience very pleasurable.

Thinking about doing the same with Ingrid, though, brought different, more intense feelings—both in favor of the idea and… well, not really against it, as much as in favor of not taking it lightly. Of paying very careful attention to how Ingrid felt about it, and how I felt about it—and what it could mean to us.

My hand tightened around the pen, the weight of my authority settling comfortably on my shoulders. The decision was made. Now, all that remained was to see how Ingrid would respond to the choice laid before her. Would she embrace her submission, or would she shy away from the severity of the punishment?

"Let's see how much you can grow today, Ingrid," I murmured to myself, anticipation thrumming through my veins. This evening the real test would take place, and perhaps many more questions would receive their answers.

Ingrid

"Ingrid," the intercom crackled, Joseph's voice cool and apparently emotionless, "come in here, please."

My heart pounded as I stood from my desk, the weight of Joseph's summons pressing down on me. In the two hours that had passed since he had told me he intended to give me the choice of whether to accept the punishment he decided on, I had gotten nothing done. I couldn't even remember if I'd eaten lunch, though I supposed I must have.

My feet walked as if of their own accord, though each step toward Joseph's office felt like treading through thick sludge. When I stepped inside and saw him framed by the city view behind him like a portrait of unyielding authority, I almost turned and fled. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine as he leaned back in his leather chair, fingers steepled in contemplation.

"You know why you're here, sweetheart," he said, his tone icy and detached.

"Yes, sir," I whispered, my voice trembling.

Joseph rose from his seat, crossing the room with deliberate slowness. "You embarrassed the team, to put it mildly. As we discussed, I don't let such actions go unpunished."

"Please…" My voice caught in my throat, but his glare silenced me.

"Also as we discussed, because of the special circumstances I am going to allow you to decline this punishment, if you truly feel it's not justified. If you accept the punishment, though, I will paddle you in front of the junior executives."

He said all of it matter-of-factly, as if discussing quarterly reports, while I felt my knees wobble under me. Then, to my horror, he continued, "And then they will gang bang you as a performance reward, while I watch."

My legs nearly buckled beneath me, a whirlwind of emotions tearing through my mind and my body. Fear clashed with an unexpected surge of arousal, submission mingling with the desperate need for his approval. Could I endure this? Did I want it?

"Your humiliation is necessary," he continued, his tone unwavering. "You've caused embarrassment, and now you must face your own."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. The idea of it… the exposure, the terrible agony of the discipline, the helpless, hot, dark pleasure of those three cocks and those strong limbs engulfing me… it filled me with terror and yet, also… that forbidden thrill.

I supposed I should have expected it, the wayward clench between my thighs and the beginnings of warmth and wetness down there. Maybe someday I would. Three weeks into this insane, overwhelming relationship with my brutal, dominant, gorgeous, affectionate boss, it still took me by surprise. Was this what I wanted? To be laid bare, both body and soul, for him?

"Do you accept your punishment, Ingrid?" His voice cut through my turmoil, demanding an answer; more, urging me to find that answer inside myself.

For a moment, I hesitated, my heart warring with my mind, my mind with my body. Something within me shifted, as I looked into his eyes, desperate to find a softer emotion than the singular resolve they seemed to reflect. This challenge represented much more than just a punishment; in it lay a test of my own resolve, my willingness to accept my own need to submit and to travel beyond it, proving myself capable not as the repressed young woman who had entered Joseph's office three weeks ago but as myself : all of me. It would mean facing the hot, red depths of my desires head-on. It would mean putting myself utterly in my beloved master's power.

"Yes, sir," I finally replied, my voice barely a whisper.

"Good," he said, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Prepare yourself. This is going to happen right now."

As I stood there, trembling, I searched his face again for any sign of softness, of care, in the wake of my acceptance. Was it just my imagination, or did his gaze soften momentarily? The lines around his mouth seemed less severe, and for a heartbeat, I thought I saw something tender, something protective. My heart thrilled for just a moment despite the quick disappearance of that softening: Joseph, sir, boss, master… he truly cared for me. For a few seconds, I had not the slightest doubt of it.

"Joseph…" I started, but my voice faltered. His name on my lips felt intimate, almost sacred. "Sir…"

"Yes, Ingrid?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"Nothing," I whispered, blushing furiously. It was suddenly too much to hope for, too dangerous to believe in love where there might only be control.

"Very well." His tone was brisk, cutting through my thoughts like a knife. "It's time."

He pressed a button on his intercom. "Kevin, Louis, Martin. My office. Now."

The enormous office seemed to close in around me, the modern art on the walls pressing against my mind, as if a representation of the storm raging inside me. Kevin, Louis, and Martin filed in, their eyes immediately locking onto me.

"Go ahead and sit down, gentlemen," Joseph told them. "I thought it was only fair you should have a role to play in Ingrid's punishment, since she embarrassed all of us today."

My face burned as the three big men took their seats on Joseph's sleek leather couch, their expressions a mix of anticipation and dominance. My heart pounded so loudly I feared they could hear it.

"Strip," Joseph ordered, turning to me. His voice sliced through the air like a whip.

I stood frozen for a long moment, my hands hovering in front of my chest, quivering. My resolve had vanished completely in the face of the junior executives' stark, lustful gaze.

"You accepted the punishment, sweetheart," Joseph said, his voice condescending, slightly mocking. "Do I need to get the compliance wand out?"

I heard, in his tone, the game beginning again. The shudder that went through my limbs had as much desire in it as fear.

"No, sir," I told him, still looking at the men on the couch. Suddenly, without any warning, I found myself thinking about their cocks: about how I could make them hard—how I would make them hard. How they might even be hard already, just at the thought of watching a naughty secretary get what she deserved.

My hands shook as I reached for the zipper of my dress, but the hesitation had gone. As the fabric slid down my body, exposing the lacy black lingerie Joseph had given me, memories of how he had chosen each piece with meticulous care flooded my mind. The bra, garter belt, panties, nylons—all designed to tantalize and tease.

"Faster," Joseph snapped, his impatience palpable.

I fumbled, my fingers betraying my nerves. The dress pooled at my feet, leaving me vulnerable, exposed. My cheeks burned with humiliation, but underneath it all, the hot forbidden pulse of the game coursed through me.

"Good girl," Joseph murmured, his gaze raking over my nearly naked form.

I felt their eyes on me, burning into my skin, consuming me with their desire and dominance.

"Remember why you're here," Joseph said, his voice softer now, almost a caress. "You caused embarrassment, and now you must face your own."

"Yes, sir," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and arousal.

Joseph turned to the junior executives, his team. "Gentlemen, observe closely. Ingrid is about to learn a valuable lesson."

Terror gnawed at my insides but my heart warmed with another realization of the depth of his care for me. The punishment, the humiliation—he really did mean it to help me, to mold and shape me into someone stronger, someone better.

"Remove your panties and give them to me," Joseph's command cut through the heavy silence with an authoritative growl that sent a new shiver down my spine. My face burned with humiliation, my fingers trembling as they hooked into the delicate lace at my hips.

"Yes, sir," I whispered, barely audible, feeling the weight of every gaze fixed on me. Slowly, agonizingly, I slid the black panties down my legs, my skin prickling with the cold air and the heat of their collective stares. Finally I stood with the cleft of my smooth pussy exposed to their lewd gazes, framed by the garter belt and its suspenders. I handed the fragile garment to Joseph, a humiliating offering in front of Kevin, Louis, and Martin.

"Good girl," he murmured, his tone full of authority and approval, making my heart race. He took the panties from my quivering hand and tucked them into his pocket, a possessive gleam in his icy eyes. "Now, bend over my desk."

My reason recoiled at the thought, yet the hot, dark thrill coursed through me nevertheless, arising from and then mingling inextricably with the shame. I turned slowly, trying to steady my breath. The polished wood and leather of Joseph's desk loomed before me like an altar of submission.

I reached it on halting steps. I bent over, stretching my hands across the cool surface, my knees instinctively pressing together in a futile attempt at modesty.

"Spread your feet," Joseph's voice demanded, each word a lash of control. My legs wobbled as I shuffled them wider, my body quivering with the mix of need, mortification, fear. The dark polished wood beneath my fingertips felt like ice against my heated skin.

"Perfect," Joseph declared, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Gentlemen, why don't you get up and come closer so that you can have a look at this pretty cunt and this tight little anus."

My mortification soared to unimaginable heights as I heard them obey. I heard them moving toward me, felt their eyes devouring the sight of my exposed body. I sensed their gazes burning into me, with a heady mixture of lust and aggression. The air felt thick with forbidden sexuality, the room alive with the terrible promise of what lay in store for me.

"See how she trembles," Joseph commented, his voice a dark caress. "The embarrassment fuels her arousal. Isn't that right, Ingrid?"

"Oh, God," I sobbed. Do I really have to admit it?

Then, "Y-yes, sir," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The words tasted like surrender on my tongue, and I suddenly hated how much they excited me as much as I loved it. Then, a moment later, I felt a surge of pride as I accepted the two emotions as part of the same deeply seated element of my very identity: simply, who I was.

"Kevin, Louis, Martin." Joseph had taken a stand over me, I realized, his voice coming from almost directly overhead as he addressed the junior executives. His voice was honed with a cruel edge that I could hear even in the way he pronounced their names.

The Game , I realized, capitalizing it in my mind for the first time. He knows how to play the Game.

"I find this cunt and this anus extremely pleasurable on my cock. As Louis knows, her mouth is obedient as well. You've done very well this quarter. I'm certain you will enjoy fucking her in all her holes after her paddling."