She cringes slightly, but does not break the posture.She cringes slightly, but does not break the posture. There is no one in sight when they step out of the elevator. Taking a quick look around, he satisfies himself with the emptiness of the hallway, then turns to her. "You will take off your sweater," he tells her as he runs his hands over her breasts, squeezing them gently, "then you will get down on all fours and follow me. You can carry you pack in your mouth." Her eyes widen at this command, and she glances apprehensively down the lighted hall. The delay in responding to his command is met with a sharp slap across her right cheek, causing tears to obscure her vision. In spite of this, she feels a wet warmth coursing through her groin, and knows that she would not disobey, even had she wanted to. He compells her, and she is his. She drops what she is carrying and slips the sweater over her head. Getting everything into an easily carried bundle is a more difficult matter, and further delay brings further spankings. Granted, the cloth of her pants is enough to take away most of the shock, but enough comes through anyways to cause fresh tears to mark her face. When she is ready, he turns and walks briskly down the hall and turns a corner; she must scurry to follow him, lest she get lost in the labyrinth on offices. As it is, he has waited for her around the corner. He has taken off his thin belt, and now brings its leather tongue down across her lower back, hard enough to sting and leave a welt, but nowhere near hard enough to break the skin. He has no intent of causing any serious or permanent injury to a body he admires so much. In this way he shepherds her far from the elevators, until they finally come to a stop before the door of a corner office. They have encountered no one in the halls. Ignoring her, he pulls a small set of keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, steps inside, and closes the door. She is left alone in the hall, and now she can hear distant voices approaching. |