Punishment and Praise

POV: Alternating (Start: His)

5:24 P.M.

He watched her from across the breakroom.

Laughing.

Not at him — at someone else. Some junior associate in a slim tie and no idea what kind of heat he was dancing near.

Danielle was perched on the counter, ankles crossed, giggling at some harmless joke. But the tilt of her head, the way her fingers played with her necklace — it wasn’t harmless.

It was deliberate.

She was playing.

Testing him.

And she didn’t even look his way.

Bold.

He didn’t show it. Not in his face, not in his stance.

But inside?

He was already planning how to correct her.

⸻

Danielle

She felt his stare the second it landed.

She didn’t even have to look to know he’d seen it — her laughter, her casual flirt, her choice to ignore him just long enough.

She loved that tension. That line she tiptoed across. That delicious burn she got when she provoked him.

By the time her workday ended, her skin buzzed with anticipation.

So when she got the message…

“My office. Now.”

…she didn’t hesitate.

⸻

The Punishment

The door locked behind her. Blinds already drawn. His expression unreadable — cold, but hungry.

“You think that was cute?” he asked softly.

“Who?” she played dumb. “Me?”

He moved fast.

One hand gripped her throat — not tight, just firm enough to still her.

The other pulled her skirt up.

She gasped when he spun her toward the desk.

Bent her over.

“Count,” he said.

Her heart dropped.

Then his palm cracked across her ass.

Smack.

“One.”

Smack.

“Two.”

The heat bloomed. A sweet, stinging burn. Her body jolted with every slap, but her pussy? Soaked.

Smack.

“Five.”

Her voice trembled.

Smack.

“Six—fuck—six…”

His hand lingered, massaging the red skin he just marked.

“You know why you’re getting this?”

She moaned.

“Because I teased you.”

He leaned down, whispering at the shell of her ear.

“Because you wanted this.”

⸻

The Praise

He pulled her up. Sat on the edge of the desk. Guided her into his lap.

One hand snaked between her thighs.

“Let’s see how sorry you are.”

His fingers slid inside her again — wet, tight, desperate.

She moaned into his neck, biting down on his shirt.

“So fucking good for me now,” he breathed.

“My perfect little slut.”

“Takes her punishment and drips for it.”

She came hard on his fingers, clutching his shoulders, breathless and gone.

He kissed her temple.

“Good girl.”