Victoria Hargrove sat behind her imposing desk, her sharp eyes fixed on the young man seated across from her. Ethan Monroe fidgeted under her gaze, clutching his portfolio like a lifeline. He was nervous, and she could sense it.
“Mr. Monroe,” she began, her voice clipped and commanding, “this position isn’t for the faint of heart. Being my assistant is not just about scheduling meetings and answering phones. It’s about precision, foresight, and resilience. Do you think you have what it takes?”
Ethan straightened in his chair, though his hands tightened their grip on the portfolio. “Yes, Ms. Hargrove. I’m confident I can handle the role.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Confidence is easy to claim. Results are not. Let me be clear: I expect perfection. Mistakes are costly here—not just for the company but for me personally. If you disappoint me, you will be held accountable. Do you understand?”
Ethan swallowed hard. “I… I understand.”
“Good,” she said, leaning back slightly. “Because I don’t tolerate excuses. If you fail to meet my expectations, there will be consequences. Consider this your only warning.”
Her words hung in the air, and Ethan nodded quickly. “Yes, Ms. Hargrove. I’ll do my best.”
“Your best,” she repeated, her tone sharp, “better be enough.”
Two weeks into the job, Ethan was struggling to keep up. Victoria’s demands came fast and unforgiving: rescheduling meetings at a moment’s notice, preparing reports overnight, and managing an ever-shifting calendar.
When her laptop crashed just before the critical Chronos Tech investor meeting, he knew he was in trouble.
“Monroe!” she called from her office, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the workspace.
He rushed in, his heart pounding. “Yes, Ms. Hargrove?”
“My laptop is dead,” she said, her tone razor-sharp. “Where’s the backup of my presentation?”
Ethan froze, his mind racing. “I… I was going to back it up this morning, but I didn’t have a chance yet.”
“You didn’t have a chance?” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. “The meeting is in thirty minutes, and you’re telling me you didn’t back up the presentation?”
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Hargrove,” he stammered. “I can try to recover the files—”
“Trying isn’t good enough,” she snapped. “Fix this. Now.”
Ethan scrambled to piece together the presentation from fragments of drafts and notes, but the clock was working against him. When he handed the laptop back to Victoria, the presentation was incomplete and riddled with errors.
She scanned the slides, her expression growing colder with each page. “This is unacceptable,” she said flatly. “You’ve made me look incompetent in front of our investors.”
“I—I’m so sorry,” Ethan stammered, his face pale. “I’ll fix it, I swear—”
“No,” she said, cutting him off. “The damage is already done.”
After the investors left, Victoria called Ethan into her office. The door clicked shut behind him, and she turned to face him, her expression unreadable.
“Do you remember what I told you during your interview?” she asked, her voice calm but chilling.
“Yes, Ms. Hargrove,” he said quietly.
“Remind me,” she said, folding her arms.
“You… you said there would be consequences if I disappointed you,” he whispered.
She nodded. “And you’ve disappointed me, Mr. Monroe. Not once, but repeatedly. I warned you this job wasn’t for everyone. Clearly, I was right.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Please, just give me another chance—”
Victoria Hargrove stood by her desk, her piercing gaze fixed on Ethan Monroe, who stood before her like a chastened schoolboy. His shoulders slumped under the weight of her disappointment, and his face burned with humiliation.
“Do you remember what I told you during your interview?” she asked, her voice sharp and deliberate.
“Yes, Ms. Hargrove,” he mumbled, barely meeting her eyes.
“Remind me,” she demanded, folding her arms in a way that made her presence even more imposing.
“You… you said there would be consequences if I disappointed you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Exactly,” she said, her tone icy. “And today, you’ve done more than disappoint me. You’ve undermined my reputation in front of some of our most important investors. This is unacceptable.”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan stammered. “Please, just give me another chance—”
She raised a hand, silencing him with a single motion. Her dark eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, the room felt unbearably still.
“How far are you willing to go to keep your job, Mr. Monroe?” she asked, her tone calm but laced with an edge that sent a shiver down his spine.
Ethan’s eyes widened. “I—I don’t understand…”
Victoria stepped closer, her heels clicking against the polished floor, each step deliberate. “Let me rephrase,” she said, her voice even more commanding. “You’ve failed me, Mr. Monroe. Not once, but repeatedly. So now I’m asking: how far are you willing to go to prove that you deserve to stay here?”
“I’ll do anything,” he blurted out, desperation overtaking his nerves. “I swear, I’ll make this right. I’ll work harder, stay late, whatever it takes—”
“Words are easy,” she interrupted, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. “But actions? Those matter more.”
Her gaze lingered on him, weighing his response. Ethan shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, unsure what she expected of him and terrified of giving the wrong answer.
She leaned forward, her gaze never leaving his face. “Have you ever been disciplined before, Mr. Monroe? How does it feel when someone else holds you accountable?”
The question threw Ethan off guard, and he hesitated before answering. “Well… when I was a child, my mother used to spank me when I did something wrong.”
Ms. Hargrove’s eyes sharpened. “Spanked you, you say? Tell me, Mr. Monroe—give me a specific example of how your mother spanked you. I want to hear exactly what happened.”
Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest. The question felt intrusive, but there was no turning back. “Um… I remember when I was about eight. I snuck into the kitchen late at night to grab cookies. I thought she wouldn’t notice, but she caught me red-handed. She didn’t yell at me, just… grabbed my arm and made me sit down. She told me it was wrong to take something without asking, and then… she gave me two swats, right on my behind.”
Ms. Hargrove raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “And how did that feel, Mr. Monroe?”
Ethan swallowed hard, a rush of heat filling his cheeks. “It… it stung. I was embarrassed, but it made me realize I couldn’t get away with things like that. She didn’t say much afterward—just told me she was disappointed. I think that hurt worse than the spanking.”
Ms. Hargrove leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers against the desk. “Discipline. Accountability. Consequences. All these things have their place, Mr. Monroe. And it seems to me that you need a reminder of what happens when someone fails to meet expectations. You’ve disappointed me, and you’ll make it right. No more excuses.”
Victoria reached for the ruler on her desk, her fingers wrapping around its smooth surface as she placed it firmly on the desk with a deliberate click, her gaze never leaving him. Though confusion clouded his mind, a deeper, unspoken understanding settled over him. He knew what Victoria planned to do, and the realization sent a shiver down his spine.
Victoria’s gaze hardened as she stood, the room suddenly feeling smaller. Picking up the ruler from her desk, she took a step closer to Ethan, her voice cold but commanding.
“I’ve had enough of your excuses, Ethan,” she said sternly, her eyes locked onto his. “Today, I’m going to be your mother. And just like she did, I’m going to teach you a lesson about responsibility and consequences.”
Ethan’s heart raced, the weight of her words sinking in. His throat tightened as he realized this was no ordinary reprimand—this was something much more intense.
“Did your mother make you lower your trousers before your spankings, Ethan?” He shifted uncomfortably, looking up at her. The power imbalance was undeniable. “Yes, Ms. Hargrove,” he replied, his voice steady but nervous.
“Stand up, Ethan.” He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, as if bracing himself for whatever came next. Victoria’s gaze didn’t leave him; her presence alone commanded the room.
“Good,” she said, nodding slightly, “Now, act for me like you would for your mother.” Ethan thought a moment about acting dumb, but he knew exactly where this was headed. He lowered his pants and leaned against Ms. Hargrove’s desk.
Ethan expected Ms. Hargrove to take swift action at this point, so he was surprised as minutes ticked by. Although she was behind him, Ethan had the sense that she had taken a seat on the couch behind him.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Ms. Hargrove finally spoke, her words cutting through the stillness with a tone of subtle humiliation. “Well, those panties are certainly… interesting, Mr. Monroe,” she said, referring to his tighty whities. Ethan’s face flushed with embarrassment. His palms began to sweat.
More time passed, then Victoria asked, “Did your mother make you lower your underwear too, Ethan?”
Ethan hesitated, his throat tight as he tried to steady his breathing. The weight of her unseen gaze felt unbearable. Reluctantly, he nodded affirmative.
Ms. Hargrove’s eyes narrowed, and her voice remained steady but firm. “Ethan, use words,” she instructed, her tone brokering no argument. Ethan swallowed again, the pressure mounting, and he forced the words out, his voice barely a whisper. “Yes, Ms. Hargrove,” he said, the word hanging in the air between them, heavy with resignation.
“Ethan,” she said sharply, “I told you to behalf towards me as you would have for your mother. Why didn’t you do what I asked?” Ethan swallowed hard, his palms still clammy, his nerves on edge as he struggled to find the words.
Ethan’s voice trembled as he spoke, the words coming out broken and uneven. “I—I didn’t do it because… I was embarrassed,” he admitted, his face flushing deeper as he leaned heavily on the desk, avoiding her gaze. “I didn’t want you to… see me like that,” he murmured, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hargrove.”
Ms. Hargrove stood up from the couch behind him, her presence suddenly overwhelming, though he couldn’t see her. If possible, the room felt even more charged, the air thick with tension. Her voice spiked with authority. “Ethan,” she said, “I’ve already told you—actions speak louder than words.” The statement hung in the air, suffocating in its intensity. She took a step closer, her tone shifting to one of quiet, unyielding command. “Now, do what I asked. No more excuses.” Ethan could feel the weight of her words pressing down on him, his breath caught in his throat as the moment stretched on, the pressure mounting with every passing second.
Ethan’s hands trembled as he stood up straight, his posture stiff, his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he complied with Ms. Hargrove’s orders, each movement slow and deliberate, heavy with hesitation as he pinched the edges of the elastic band of his underpants and lowered them to his ankles. His breath caught in his throat as he finally leaned back against the desk, the tension in the room suffocating. The weight of her presence loomed behind him, and the silence felt unbearable as he nervously awaited her next command.
Ethan could feel Ms. Hargrove’s presence behind him, a heavy tension in the air that made him feel acutely aware of every sound and movement. He didn’t react, holding himself as still as possible, while waiting for her to act. Suddenly, her hand grasped his scrotum, the shock of the unexpected contact making him freeze for a moment. His mind raced, the suddenness of it sending a ripple of disbelief through him, his body stiffening, as she began squeezing his testicles. He winced, but he didn’t pull away, maintaining his composure as best he could, despite the discomfort and the humiliating circumstances he found himself in.
Ms. Hargrove raised the ruler and tapped it firmly against the desk, the sharp sound cutting through the stillness of the room. The sound was deliberate, each tap emphasizing the weight of her authority. Ethan could feel his heart beat faster, the tension thick in the air as he waited for her next words or actions, the ruler still resting lightly against the desk, a silent reminder of her control over the moment.
Acting suddenly, Ms. Hargrove’s movements were swift and precise, catching Ethan off guard. Before he could fully process what was happening, still firmly holding his testicles, she began to strike his bear bottom with the ruler. The quickness of her action left him momentarily stunned, his mind struggling to catch up with the unexpected turn.
Ethan’s eyes began to well up, the weight of the situation pressing down on him with a suffocating intensity. His throat tightened as a mix of emotions swirled within him—embarrassment, fear, and confusion. Despite his best efforts to maintain control, the vulnerability of the moment overwhelmed him. He blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears, but they lingered, threatening to spill over as he stood there, caught in the tension of the moment.
Ethan could no longer hold it in. The weight of the situation, the tension in the room, and Ms. Hargrove’s unyielding punishment all collided within him. His chest tightened, and before he could stop himself, tears began to spill from his eyes. He wiped them away quickly, but it was no use—the sobs came, raw and uncontrollable, as he continued to lean on the desk. His face flushed with embarrassment, the vulnerability of the moment exposing him in a way he hadn’t expected. He wished he could retreat, but his boss maintained a furious grip on his manhood.
As suddenly as it started, Ms. Hargrove released her grip on Ethan and stepped back, leaving him still leaning against her desk, trembling and confused. The air around him felt still, but the weight of the moment lingered, hanging between them. Slowly, Ethan stood upright, wiping the still-flowing tears from his face, his hands shaky as he tried to regain his composure. He avoided her gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the quiet aftermath. Ms. Hargrove’s voice broke the silence, firm and commanding. “Turn around,” she said, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Ethan pivoted to face Ms. Hargrove, his movements slow and unsteady, almost falling over because his trousers and underpants were still around his ankles. His eyes were still wet, and his chest felt tight, but he had no choice but to meet her gaze. The space between them felt charged, and his heart pounded in his ears as he waited for whatever would come next. Her expression remained unreadable, and the silence between them stretched on, leaving Ethan unsure of what was expected from him now.
Ms. Hargrove looked down at Ethan, a slight smile curling at the corners of her lips. The expression seemed to carry a mixture of satisfaction and something harder to read. Ethan felt his face flush with embarrassment, his heart racing. The smile, though subtle, seemed to pierce through the remnants of his composure, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. His gaze dropped to the floor, unwilling to meet her eyes, as the weight of the moment settled on him with even greater intensity.
Looking down at Ethan crotch, a slight smile curling at the corners of Victoria’s lips. Ethan, having been focused solely on the pain and the tension of the moment, only now realized what she was looking at. His face flushed with embarrassment as he followed her gaze at his bare genitals, the realization sinking in that she was taking in the full extent of his vulnerability. The smile on her face seemed to deepen, and Ethan’s heart raced, the weight of his discomfort growing with every passing second.
Ms. Hargrove’s smile faded as she took a step back, her gaze steady and authoritative. “You can get dressed and return to work,” she said, her voice coldly professional. “But remember, if your performance doesn’t improve, this will become routine.” Her words hung in the air, heavy and final, as Ethan stood there, still processing the sting of the moment. His heart still pounded in his chest as he tried to collect himself, the weight of her words lingering in the silence.
Ethan nodded, though he couldn’t meet her eyes. His trousers and underpants tangled at his ankles, like an unwitting victim of time’s impatience. He tugs at the waistband of his underpants, a struggle against the fabric, as though each layer of clothing were a mini battle with the clock. With a quick, almost panicked motion, he yanks his trousers upward, hoping they’ll slide into place, yet they seem intent on defying the simple act of getting dressed.
Before Ethan could escape, Ms. Hargrove had some final instructions. “From now on, you will refer to me as ‘Ma’am,’ Ethan. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, the words feeling foreign, his throat tight.
She nodded, then added, “And before you leave, you’ll thank me for the punishment. Properly.”
He swallowed hard, forcing the words through his embarrassment. “Thank you for the punishment, Ma’am.”
As he turned to leave, the humiliation hit him, but it was the stinging pain in his backside that overwhelmed him. Each step felt like a fresh wave of discomfort, sharp and relentless. The weight of her words still hung in the air, but it was the physical ache that seemed to burn through him, making every movement unbearable. His backside throbbed with the sting, and as he walked out of her office, it was the only thing he could focus on, a constant reminder of the moment.
After leaving his boss’s office, Ethan made a beeline to a restroom. Feeling discomfort, he pulled down his trousers to check the damage. Bood had formed stripes that were beginning to seep through is underpants. He stares at them in the mirror, a flush of embarrassment rising. The strange pattern only adds to his unease. He wished he could make the irritation—and the sight of those red stripes—disappear. Hearing someone at the door of the restroom, Ethan quickly pulled his trousers up and pretended nothing was wrong as he passed a colleague in the doorway and returned to his duties.