When Caroline arrived at the attorney's office, little had changed since the previous week. The young secretary was dressed differently, though the effect was still the same. Her suit was black with a deep lace collar and a white lace teddy apparent underneath her jacket. When she walked, it seemed as though her breasts jumped to the surface of her clothes calling attention to their fully sumptuous quality. From behind her, her thick high heels augmented the appearance of her rounded ass. The gentle jiggle of those two mounds could hardly go unnoticed since it seemed that she wore no panties, and with her'hips swaying invitingly, it was obvious she wanted to be noticed. Following the two plump cheeks into Max's office, Caroline was forced to stare and forced to recognize the erotic impression they made on her.

'Good evening, Caroline,' Max greeted her, as his receptionist left the two by themselves. He appeared less distracted than the previous week and sincerely interested in her. 'I can see you're respectful of your place here,' he added, referring to her attire'though it was difficult to know if her carefully chosen clothes actually pleased him. 'Sit down,' he instructed.

Turning around, Caroline looked for a chair, but found only a low wooden stool in front of his desk.

'Yes there,' he anticipated her question.

Though she hesitated briefly, she obeyed, taking up an awkward pose on the uncomfortable stool, understanding instantly that Max wanted her feeling clumsy and out of control. Strange, he wanted her to dress like a 'lady' but didn't allow her to sit like one. He wanted to press his advantage in every way he could. And wasn't this exactly what she'd been asking for? The kind of man who could startle and command her. Whose power was so autocratic that she could do nothing except obey unquestioningly. Staring at Max from her humble position, she waited while her eyes began to moisten with tears.

'Now, Miss Ashley, tell my why you're here,' he asked her gruffly.

Caroline cleared her throat, expecting that she would speak, but managed no reply. Her silence bothered even her since she expected to be more bold.

'Miss Ashley,' he prompted her.

'Yes, yes,' she thought quickly for an explanation. 'As I said on the phone . . .' she started.

'I know what you said on the phone,' Max jumped in. 'Now tell me exactly why you're here.'

She licked her lips nervously, realizing that her hands were sweaty as they lay clasped in her lap.

'Well, sir, for years, I've fantasized about being spanked by a man.' She spoke in a halting voice that hardly seemed her own. 'In fact, the idea drives me crazy.'

'That badø'

'It's an obsession, I swear.'

'And how do you imagine this spanking taking place?' he asked.

She thought again, wondering which of the dozens of scenarios she should outline for him.

'I'm afraid that my imagination has taken many avenues with this, but in general, I see a man, a very firm man and deliberate man like yourself, pushing me over a desk, or perhaps a chair, and then striking my ass.'

'With an implement?' he wondered.

'Yes. Usually something leather.'

'And is your ass bare?'

'Yes,' she admitted. That was an important piece of the fantasy, the bare ass, the vulnerability, the humiliation, the chance for a sexual seduction afterwards.

'And do your fantasies arouse you sexually?' he asked.

'The fantasy, or the act?' she queried.

'Both?'

'Both arouse me,' she confirmed.

'And is it your lover who disciplines you?' He emphasized the word lover so she understood the implication'

She found herself blushing as she puzzled over the question. 'I don't know.''

'Does this master make you submit to him sexually?'

Her blush broadened as the barrage of questions left her feeling weak.

'I don't know that either,' she lied.

'Do you masturbate when you think of this?'

These were such personal admissions.

'Yes. I guess I do.'

'And how often?'

'As often as I give-in to my thoughts.'

'And how often is that?'

'Nearly every day.'

'You want to be spanked every day?'

'I think I might.'

Stopping the inquisition, his obscure eyes focused directly on her. Then he picked up the telephone and dialed a single digit. 'Diandra,' he said, 'come in here now.'

In seconds the young secretary walked in, ass swishing, a confident smile on her face. 'Yes sir,' she presented herself respectfully.

'Go to the closet and get my thong'you know the one I want.'

The young woman walked briskly toward a cabinet on the far wall, while Caroline watched as she opened a door and pulled the mentioned instrument from the interior. She closed the door too quickly for Caroline to glimpse what else might be inside the cabinet. Then she returned to the desk carrying a black leather strap in her palm. It was no more than eighteen inches long, with six of those inches braided into a leather handle. Two inches wide with a rounded tip, the implement was perfectly insidious'and everything the lusting Caroline dreamed of. For one brief instant she imagined herself ordered to assume the position where Max would lay that leather firmly on her ass.

And though Caroline expected him to call her to her feet that very moment, to both her relief and disappointment, he announced otherwise.

'Over the desk, Diandra, Miss Ashley needs to see exactly what I have to offer her.'

A brief trace of anguish crossed the brunette's face, but without hesitation, she dutifully moved several objects on the desk, and leaned over the rosewood surface, so her ass became a clearly presented target.

'You understand, that Diandra was strapped this morning, as is a regular practice for her. These will be extra strokes as a favor to both you and me. You can be grateful and perhaps learn something from her unquestioning obedience.' Pulling at the receptionist's skirt he revealed a naked ass, her twin pink cheeks framed by her white, lace garter belt and stockings. There were tiny marks where the skin had'once been broken, but was now healing; and several red streaks and newer bruises, which must have been made earlier in the day.

Caroline would have gasped had she not been so mesmerized by Diandra's beautiful heart-shaped bottom, which beautifully tapered toward her ankles. Just the faintest hint of her pussy revealed moist hair guarding the womanly hole hidden between her labial lips.

Standing behind that lovely rear, Max Burton rolled up the right sleeve of his long-sleeved shirt, and then plucked the leather thong from his desk. Grasping the handle firmly, he drew back his powerful arm and with a snap of his wrist brought the mean thing forward seeing it land in the tender center of Diandra's ass. She jerked, determinedly remaining silent. A dozen swift blows rained hard against her bottom, each searing, cutting, and marking her already streaked skin. With each cut her soft flesh jiggled, her body twitched in a tiny dance, and a slight whimper escaped the young woman's lips. She seemed to move in pleasant union with her master, knowing what to expect and how to respond. Caroline would have thought they might go on for some time, but with a breathtaking suddenness, Max said, 'Enough,' and tossed the thong on the top of his desk. He'd finished. 'Now, get back to work.' He was ice cold.

The scene was like some hellish conflagration, igniting Caroline so wildly she could hardly hold still in her awkward position on the stool. Her mind dreamed easily of her own posterior so exposed; and she could hardly wait for her turn to commence. She wondered what fires must be burning in Diandra's loins. Never had she seen anything as seductive as that young ass. For a moment she even imagined herself gently taking that lovely flesh in her hands and kissing the redness away. Such thoughts had never before crossed Caroline's mind, but as they did, she allowed them to arouse her more. All this was so new; and yet, she sensed that her desires were only beginning to bloom, and that bizarre acts would become commonplace in what had once been an ordinary life.

To Caroline's dismay, Diandra straightened as soon as she heard her boss's order. Pulling down her skirt, she proceeded to the cabinet, where she replaced the strap. Though there were tears in her eyes, none fell to her cheeks. And moving as gracefully as she had before, she left the room.

'Diandra,' Max called after her, and his receptionist cracked the door.

'Yes, sir.'

'You deserved that,' he told her, as though he were reminding her of some misdemeanor only now answered for.

'Yes sir,' she replied. The sweet resignation in her voice spoke plainly to Caroline's heart.

With the door closed, Caroline was alone with Max again.

'So, Ms. Ashley,' Max stated, 'is that what you look forward to?'

Caroline hesitated, she had no idea how to reply.

'Take your breath away?' he suggested.

'I guess so, and yes, that is exactly what I had in mind.' The tenor of his speech, the words, the movements, the instrument, it was the same as she'd imagined it would be; as though Max Burton had found his way inside her brain, and was merely duplicating the scenario that had played there so long.

'Please understand, that was a brief version, Ms. Ashley. Do you think that you could really tolerate the entire discipline that would surely last three times the length?'

'It's what I've wanted,' Caroline stated confidently.

There was a curious attitude of doubt in Max's questions, almost as if he were amused by her efforts to explain herself and argue for her desire. His lip turned up as though he were about to smile, but then he frowned again.

'Okay,' he said evenly. 'Then I'll lay out the agreement.

He was thoroughly searching every inch of her. Such scrutiny, made her believe he was dissecting her, stripping her, certainly laying waste to any shred of pride she might still have. His inspection over, he bluntly detailed the arrangement.

'What you ask takes a good deal of my time. And my time is precious. I would consider no less than five sessions beneath the strap to complete your discipline. At $200 per session, which is my current hourly rate, that would require an advance payment of $1000, and your signature on a contract outlining our agreement in written form. Is that satisfactory?'

He stopped, awaiting her reply while Caroline sat mortified, initially too stunned to speak. Finally finding her voice, she gasped, 'Wait a minute! I never imagined such a price! Or a price at all!'

'And do you create your art for free?'

'No.'

'Nor do I.'

She looked at him suspiciously, unsure how to react. 'I'll have to consider this, Mr. Burton.'

'I imagine so,' he replied. 'If you still want to proceed, you may come again next Friday, and we'll commence.'

'But . . .''

'But nothing,' he jumped before she could voice an objection. 'If you're serious about this . . . if this is something your psyche cannot live without . . . if it truly has you burning with a need so obsessive that you simply can't live without it' if that's the case, then there's little to consider. We both know I am not'asking you to pay what you cannot afford. On the other hand, if you just intend to toy with a silly fantasy, then you might as well find some boyfriend to slap your butt a few times and be done with it. You think about it, Caroline Ashley. Think real hard I'll be here at 7:00 next Friday evening.'

It was clear, he had nothing more to say, and would tolerate no argument from her.

As she left, Caroline found it difficult to hide her tears. The emotions welling in her were rich and raw, and totally confusing. The whole silly thing made no sense, but just as Max Burton intimated, it made her burst with sexual need that would not, for all her efforts, be squelched.

The shadows in Max's office were finally drawing lines across the floor, across the oriental red rug and the desk and chairs. It was his favorite time of summer evening, just before the sunset, when a decadent warmth surrounded the air with its special mystery.

He could see Caroline's retreating form as she descended the stairs outside the building, and briskly made her way across the street where she would round the block and retreat to her gallery.

How delightful it would be to have her ass, to strike it soundly, to leave marks that would stay for days!

Longingly he watched her ass bounce underneath the tight skirt she'd worn; he could faintly see the crack of her rear, just as he'd glimpsed the tantalizing interior of her cleavage in the transparent blouse. And she'd worn red, the little slut, he thought. He hoped she would take his offer A fine one she'd be. . . not the sweet, naive Diandra who he fathered with his strict lash, or the bouncy Roxanne and their occasional quickies. No, Caroline Ashley was unique. A master's first choice for submissive, that breed of woman who exudes raw sensuality and a primness that needs shattering, though her touch of arrogance requires a master's hand to break. To have a woman so apparently knowledgeable about her needs was rare. Yet, it is a fine line between fantasy and what is really possible with such a woman. He couldn't have her balk, or back down in the middle of a session, which was why the conditions, the money and the contract. And Max, a betting man, gave her only a fifty fifty chance of returning that next week.

Regardless of the future possibilities, the longer Max contemplated Caroline Ashley, the more his need became acute. His cock swelled with desire, stiffening so it was painful. He had no intention of denying himself.

'Diandra,' he called out brusquely so the girl could here.

She pattered into his office. 'Yes sir.'

Rising from his chair, he moved to his desk, and without speaking, he pulled his secretary over the end of it where she'd so recently been available for the thong. This time he had other intentions.

Pulling up her skirt he squeezed her warm red ass; and opening his pants, he pulled out an anxious prick, quickly embedding the throbbing organ in her succulent hole.

'Ah, yes, Max!' the young woman sighed deeply as his rod hit the bottom of her channel and began the vigorous ride to a climax.

Reaching around, Max pinched her clitoris, and dozens of bursting sensations joined the fires inside her. 'Ouch ooooh, yes!' she groaned with contentment and eagerness

'Hush,' he warned demanding her quiet. Very near cumming, he grabbed her ass where it was sore and worked her faster, listening to the muted sounds of her physical release spilling out regardless of his command for silence. Diandra was hot, so lost inside their crude release that her clenching pussy forcibly squeezed his manhood until it exploded in white hot spurts of cum, and scowling, he came. His body thrust itself relentlessly against the soft flesh of her ass, and pulsed until she'd drained him dry. Her continuing spasms'not yet at their full peak'pulled from him the last drop of seed, and stored it lovingly in her depths.

When he was finished, withdrawn and depleted, he dismissed her hastily, without a thought for her final pleasure. It was not unusual for him to use her this way. It filled his needs, and hers alike'normally readying her for an interesting evening out.

Diandra left with her pussy vibrating so keenly, she was tempted to bring on her orgasm manually'though she did not. Anything that self-indulgent in Max Burton's world was forbidden.

With Diandra gone, Max back slumped into his chair by the window, looking out on the wildflowers some gardener had sown in the flower beds along the front of his house. Bringing to mind Caroline Ashley's swishing ass, he imagined how it would feel to plant himself'in the delicious wildflower pussy between her lovely thighs.

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