Training Tessa (Hot Texas Bosses BDSM Erotica) (3 page)

I turned slightly to face him, and started inching my brown skirt up my leg, planning to stop as soon as the band of the thigh highs was visible.

“No,” he said. “I’ll check for myself.” He sat down in the guest chair a couple of feet from where I was standing. “Come here.”

Feeling as if my legs could give way at any moment, I took a step toward him. He put his hand on my backside, pulling me in another step.

“Turn around.”

When I complied, his palm made contact with my calf, slowly skimming its way up to the back of my thigh.

I was afraid to exhale because a sigh was caught in my throat, waiting to escape.

My skirt rose as his hand continued up my leg until he traced the top of my hose with one finger.

I gasped.

He chuckled. He moved my skirt up to my waist. The cool breeze from the AC chilled my bottom.

His finger slid upward and traced the edge of my panties. He rested his palm on the curve of my bottom.

Mmmm…
How long since I’d had a warm masculine hand on my skin? My ass muscles flexed involuntarily at his touch.

“White cotton bikinis. My favorite,” he said in a husky voice.

I’d bought a whole package of them because they were cheap, but why did it please me so much that he liked them? I should be angry with him for this personal intrusion.

I heard a rumble from deep in his throat, but he cleared it and dropped my skirt.

“Okay, you passed inspection. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I was overwhelmed by a sense of relief…and disappointment. Smoothing my skirt down, I fled the office.

Chapter Three

I was a bundle of nerves in the office Friday morning. I couldn’t stop thinking of how two bosses had been inappropriate with me, and I’d gotten a thrill both times.

What did that say about me?

I’d been focusing on nothing but finding a job for the past several months. Was I so sexually deprived, my body would respond to any attention, no matter how inappropriate?

Maybe.

I obviously needed to pick up some random guy and get laid, although I’d never actually done that before. Around the same time I’d lost my job, I’d also lost my boyfriend of two years.

And why didn’t a one night stand sound as good as having these weird interludes with my demanding bosses?

Maybe the stress of the last few months had taken a toll on my mental condition. That would make sense, considering my nutty genes.

“Tessa. Come here.”

My heart skipped a beat. Mason was calling me. I took some calming breaths.

After all, I worked for him. There could be a thousand reasons for him to call me into his office.

When I entered, I noticed he was looking over the figures I’d entered into a profit and loss spreadsheet.

“There’s a problem.”

Damn, damn, damn!
I’d gone over those figures three times to make sure I’d gotten them right. How could there be a problem?

I cleared my throat and tried not to squeak. “What is it?”

“This figure is incorrect.” He pointed to a number, then pushed the document I’d taken it from toward me.

They didn’t match. But I remembered this page in particular. I even remembered entering five thousand, five hundred, fifty-five because it was such a notable number. Except now the spreadsheet read “three thousand, five hundred, fifty-five.”

Did someone change it? They had to have, unless I was losing my mind. But if I said that, it would mean accusing one of my employers because we were the only three people working in this office.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I can go back through all the numbers.”

“This was a two-thousand dollar mistake. There should be consequences for a mistake that big.”

“Please don’t dock my pay. I have to pay my moth—”

“I wouldn’t dream of docking your pay. But I need to make sure you remember not to be so careless in the future.”

“Oh, I—”

He put up a hand to silence me as he stood from his desk, pushing his nameplate and ornate pen holder aside.

“Bend over the desk.”

“What?”

“Bend forward. Rest the front of your body on my desk.”

“But—” Surely he wasn’t asking this of me.

“Now!”

I complied. The chilled mahogany against my breasts hardened my nipples, even through the bra and cotton blouse.

Mason began unbuckling his belt as he moved around the desk toward me. A strange sensation skittered through my body…anticipation. What was wrong with me?

Was he going to take me like this in his office? Would he jam his hard cock into me and fuck me senseless? Did I even want that with him?

My lonely pussy called out “Yes!” while my brain yelled “No!” I really wasn’t into Mason.

“What are you going to do?” I asked nervously.

“You need to be disciplined for your mistakes, as outlined in the contract.”

The contract? The one I hadn’t bothered to read all the way through? What in the world had I signed up for?

My skirt inched up slowly. I pressed my palms into the hard wood of the desk, as I waited to feel his touch.

When my skirt was at my waist, he asked, “How many do you think would be fair?”

How many what? Strokes of his cock? Orgasms?

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“I think five is fair in this situation, since it’s the number you should have entered in the first place.”

Five didn’t seem like a lot of strokes, but it would be an awful lot of orgasms. I was confused…until the first contact.

Whack!

His belt stung the backs of my thighs. I gasped and my body started to straighten in automatic defense, but he pushed me down.

Whack!

The slap of the leather on the tender skin of my thighs sent pain up into my ass as juices rushed to my pussy.

Was this turning me on?

Whack!

After the third time, the sting in between belt lashes was almost as bad as the contact itself. Yet, my thighs squeezed together, attempting to give my crotch its much needed attention.

Whack!

“Oh!” I said loudly.

That one was harder. Tears broke through and hung in the corners of my eyes. He was certainly leaving marks.

I held my breath, waiting for the final blow, wondering if he would pull my panties down and fuck me afterward. I imagined his brother Dixon bending me over the desk like this.

Whack!

The last one was so hard, my knees buckled at the intensity. The backs of my thighs burned like someone had taken a curling iron to them. And my pussy was soaking wet.

I was glad I had underwear on, since the idea of Mason knowing how wet I was from his punishment was unthinkable.

What was wrong with me? I thought about my crazy mother. But if this was crazy, it was a whole different brand of crazy. Maybe it didn’t matter, though. Maybe a crazy gene was a crazy gene.

My ass was suddenly warm again, and I realized Mason had replaced my skirt.

No sex. Just a bizarre, humiliating punishment. How was I supposed to face him again?

“I lost track of time. I have a meeting to go to.” He went around the desk and yanked his suit jacket from the back of his chair.

And he was gone.

*****

When I heard the door close, I lifted myself from the desk. I stood in the middle of the office for a moment feeling completely bewildered.

He had punished me in the most embarrassing, humiliating way I could have imagined.

Although he was handsome, I wasn’t especially attracted to him. Yet, I’d been completely aroused by what he’d done to me.

I raised the bottom of my skirt and ran my hands up the backs of my thighs to where my skin still burned.

There was no mirror in the room, so I couldn’t see how badly he’d marked me. But the idea of tangible proof of his punishment sent a fresh thrill through my body.

I sat down on the edge of the desk and took a deep breath. I needed to go home and pull myself together. Mason had left and his brother hadn’t been in all day. Maybe I could sneak out early.

I was still contemplating the idea when I opened the office door and nearly collided with Dixon, who’d been strolling up the hall.

“Whoa!” he said as he grabbed my arms to keep us from running into each other. He stepped back and took a good long look at me.

Did I look as disheveled as I felt?

“I ran into my brother in the elevator,” he said. “Was he in there with you?”

“Yes,” I replied. I certainly didn’t want him to think I was skulking around Mason’s office alone with the door closed.

“Come with me.”

I followed him to his office, wishing I could go home and clear my head.

“What happened in there?” He didn’t sit in his executive chair as I expected. Instead he rested his ass on the corner of his desk, which meant I’d stopped too close. We were only a couple of feet apart.

“He was just pointing out a small mistake I made on a spreadsheet.”

“A mistake?”

“Yes. I’ll fix it. And I’ll go back over the spread—”

He waved his hand as though totally disinterested in the spreadsheet. “Did he punish you?”

Uh-oh.
Why did that feel like a loaded question? “Um…yes.”

His jaw clenched and he looked in the direction of his brother’s office. “I guess he forgot that it’s my responsibility to discipline employees.”

He stared at me as if expecting me to answer.

“I guess so,” I said.

“How did he do it…discipline you?”

I swallowed hard, embarrassed to admit what had happened. “The belt,” I whispered.

“The belt. Huh! Bend over my desk. I want to see the marks.”

Tentatively, I stepped forward and bent over his desk, pressing my chest against the top of it. My nipples noted that oak was every bit as cool as mahogany in air conditioning.

I rested my cheek against the wood and closed my eyes, not knowing what to expect from him. Sympathy? Anger? Sexual advances?

My skirt came up and he smoothed his hands over my scorched flesh. That was nice. Mason punishing me, Dixon comforting me. This wasn’t so bad.