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Henderson stepped out of the elevator, whistling the latest Perry Como tune. He strolled briskly down the hall to his offices. Just inside the main door, Candi sat at her desk using an emery board on her nails. "Good morning, Mr. Henderson," she said looking up. "You're certainly in a good mood today." "Hi, Doll," he said. "Yes, I am in a good mood. Love Monday mornings. You know, getting back to work and all." He winked meaningfully at his secretary. Candi giggled. "Don't tell me Mrs. Henderson's been giving you a hard time again...". "Something like that," he said, rolling his eyes. "Is that letter to Fitzpatrick ready?" "Yes, sir. It's on your desk, all ready for you to sign." Henderson nodded and headed toward his private office. He stopped at the doorway, and turned back with a suspicious look on his face. "Is that a new dress?" he asked. "Why, yes it is, Mr. Henderson!" exclaimed Candi. "I bought it with the bonus you gave me last week." "Well, don't just sit there," he said cheerfully. "Stand up. Turn around. Let me see it." Candi got up, held her arms out, and twirled around on her heels. The dress lifted and fluttered as she spun, revealing her garters and panties to Henderson's eager view. After she completed her turn, she patted the dress smooth and looked at Henderson happily. "Do you like it?" "Yes," he said. "I like it quite a bit. And I REALLY like that high waist." "It's called an empire waist, Mr. Henderson. It's very popular." "Hmmm. It's nice the way it emphasizes your, uh, bosom." He stepped closer and took some of the fabric at the neckline, rubbing it between his right thumb and middle finger. "Nice material," he said. "Feels soft." As he felt the material, his left hand began to caress her right breast. She slapped his hand away. "Mr. Henderson!" she scolded, looking quickly from side to side. "Not right out here!" "Okay, boss," he teased. His gaze shifted from her face to her breasts and back again. Then he patted her face lightly. "Maybe a little later," he said with another wink. Finally, he retreated to his office. Within seconds, Candi's intercom came alive with Henderson's voice. "Candi, come in here. Right now!" She leapt up and hurried into his office. He was studying the Fitzpatrick letter with a frown on his face. He looked up as she entered, and held the letter out, pointing to a word he had circled. "What's this word?" Candi immediately saw that she had somehow transposed the vowels in the word "dear." The letter started off with "Daer Mr. Fitzpatrick." She swallowed. "I'm very sorry, sir. I don't know how I could've missed that. I'll retype it right away." But Henderson did not release his grip when she tried to take the letter. Instead, he took it back, studied it again, and looked up at her from under deeply furrowed brows. "Yes," he said. "Obviously, you'll have to retype it." He thought for a moment. "You know, I don't expect perfection from you... But mistakes like this are simply unacceptable." "I'm sorry, Mr. Henderson," Candi repeated. "I've never made a mistake like that before. I promise it won't happen again." "I should hope not." He sighed audibly. "I think perhaps you need to be reprimanded for this. Just to make sure you don't forget." At his words, Candi hung her head. She was close to tears. "Close the door, and step over here behind the desk," he said. Candi made sure the door was shut tight, then approached Henderson behind the desk as he swiveled to the side. "Now lay yourself across my lap." "Sir?" she asked, shaking her head. Henderson looked annoyed. "I'm going to give you a spanking," he growled. "So I want to see that pretty ass of yours over my knee right now!" "Y- yes, Mr. Henderson." Candi hesitated, but obeyed. As she settled into position, Henderson flipped up her dress, and pulled down her panties. He kneaded her soft flesh for a minute, giving her a sharp squeeze occasionally. Candi shifted uncomfortably, waiting for the first blow to land. Suddenly, his hand lifted then fell with a force that surprised her. "Ow!" she cried. "Hush!" snapped Henderson, as he again raised his hand and landed another sharp smack. This time Candi put her hand to her mouth and muffled her cry. Again and again the slaps landed with a quickening tempo. Candi was soon sobbing, but despite the sting of the blows, a familiar feeling began building within her. Each smack of Henderson's hand seemed to fan an ember inside her. She shook her head, confused at her own feelings. But she also became aware of Henderson's arousal, his ripening firmness unmistakable from her position on his lap. Suddenly, Candi realized the reprimand was over. Henderson grabbed her panties again, yanked them off completely and tossed them to the floor. He told her to stand up. She watched as he unbuckled his belt, and let his trousers and shorts fall around his ankles. Without thinking, Candi had reached behind her, gingerly touching her sore bottom with one hand, and feeling the dampness of her own excitement with the other. She was in a haze of conflicting sensations. Sitting down again in his padded leather chair, Henderson looked up at her. His eyes told her what he wanted, and she responded aloud, as though spoken to. "Yes, Mr. Henderson." She stepped toward him and straddled his legs. Taking hold of him, she guided him into her. She lifted one knee up into the narrow space between his leg and the side of the chair. Then she lifted the other knee, reaching for the back of the chair for support. He grabbed her hips with both hands and forcefully pulled her the rest of the way onto him. Holding her in place with his left hand, he used his right to massage her succulent sex bud. Together they rocked in the chair in a quickly building frenzy. They seemed to feed off each other, the reaction of one fueling the reaction of the other. When he came, Henderson grabbed the arms of the chair, and arched into the air lifting Candi, holding her aloft for several seconds. Then he lowered himself as the last of his orgasmic spasms subsided. Once seated again, he held her close to him and, using his fingers, kept her coming over and over. "Mr. Henderson," she gasped at last. "Don't you think-" She paused to catch her breath. "-I should retype that letter now?" Henderson laughed. "Such dedication to the job..." he said, as he finally released her. They rose and began to put themselves back together. The stinging of Candi's behind had become an almost soothing warmth by now. Henderson started toward his private washroom. "Mr. Henderson?" asked Candi. "Can I get you some coffee?" "Yes. Thanks, Doll," he said. "But retype that letter first." "Yes, Mr. Henderson." Candi turned to leave, then stopped. "Mr. Henderson?" she said, looking down at the floor. "I know I just promised never to make a mistake like that again, but... well... you know, nobody's perfect, sir." Henderson smiled. "Yes, I understand, Candi."
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