MISS LINFORD by Alex Birch (M/F, Consensual..well... coerced!!. Spanking, sex, politically incorrect). The day I'd been dreading for months arrived and found me in a complete sulk as I watched the girl who had been my personal secretary for eight years pack her things, ready to depart for eighteen months maternity leave. There was an embarrassing lump in my throat as Donna turned and smiled at me but I resisted the urge to throw my arms around her and scream ridiculously 'Don't go!' Instead I pecked her chastely on the cheek and mumbled 'Why couldn't you take the bloody pills ...or at least explain to that husband of yours how a condom works!' and her peal of laughter made me love her all over again. 'It was planned, Mr Cooper ...' she laughed, flattered by the knowledge that my surliness was born of my respect for her work and the tremendous empathy we seemed to share '...anyway you've always told me bonking and breeding were what a woman was put on earth for! I won't be away for ever and Personnel have already got you a replacement!' then with a brief blown kiss she was gone and I was alone in my office feeling dreadful. Cursing softly I picked up my coat and went home for the weekend, conscious that I would be no good for the rest of the afternoon. After a pretty miserable weekend, I returned to work on the following Monday determined to forget Donna for a time, my job as Marketing Manager of Britabark dog food needing my full attention at a time when the figures for our rival brands were about to be released. We needed to get comparison tables produced PDQ and I hoped that whoever Personnel had found me was bloody good for I needed a secretary who could absorb instructions quickly and produce first class output. A knock on my office door almost as soon as I'd hung up my coat heralded the arrival of the dark haired and attractive Gloria from Personnel accompanied by a woman in her mid thirties. The newcomer was quite striking in her appearance, not unattractive but very severely dressed in a smart tailored brown suit, the jacket with high lapels and oakwood buttons, the skirt full, slightly pleated and finishing well below the knee. She wore dark nylons and neat brown leather shoes while, above the waist a full button to the neck white blouse, crisp and starched, completed the ensemble. Her face was not classically beautiful but her sharp clear green eyes and the tight pale lips were certainly magnetic and attractive, her auburn hair tightly permed, not a strand out of place. All in all she looked like a headmistress, humourless and professional. I felt slightly in awe as I awaited Gloria's introduction. 'Mr Cooper, this is Miss Jessica Linford ...' Gloria began as the other woman nodded almost imperiously ' ...and she is to be your temporary secretary until Donna returns. Miss Linford ...' I must have looked surprised at the continuing formality for Gloria blushed ' ...has been working in the secretarial pool for three months and I have nothing but praise for her work.' I saw the subject of the eulogy smile smugly at this point and immediately began to dislike her but tried not to show it. I smiled and invited the woman to sit as Gloria smiled awkwardly before leaving, and she did so, staring at me with almost insolent coolness. 'Well, Jessica ...' I began, then noticed her eyes flash '...er, you don't mind my calling you by your first name, do you?' She flushed slightly but her expression remained unchanged. 'Actually, Mr Cooper, I do ...' she said stiffly '...and I would appreciate Miss Linford if you don't mind. I believe there is too much informality in offices today and one has to draw a line between one's personal life and one's professional responsibilities. Don't you agree?' I was completely derailed and from that point on felt that I'd lost control of the proceedings ...and she knew it. The patronising smirk widened just a little more as the introductory chat continued and by the time I'd installed her in Donna's adjacent office some twenty minutes later, I felt as if I'd lost a 12 round boxing match. Miss Linford had informed me in no uncertain terms how she wanted draft work presented, what height her typing chair had to be, that the anti glare features on her word processor were inadequate and that she was not prepared to tolerate the smell of cigarettes in the office, compelling me to hastily stub the one I was smoking. I gave her some work and reeled back into my office feeling humiliated and demoralised, first reaching desperately for my cigarette packet then guiltily shoving it back in my pocket. I felt two feet tall and gratefully dived into some work, glad to be free of her for a time. An hour later, there was a knock on my door and Miss Linford entered with a sweep, placed the completed work into my in tray, then waited quietly for me to give her further instructions. I was taken by surprise, for the work I had given would have taken Donna at least as long and Miss Linford had no experience of our business or document layout. She looked suitably contemptuous at my apparent inability to plan and, once I had found her more work, I looked forward maliciously to checking what she'd done and finding every little flaw. To my astonishment, her completed work was perfect in every detail, her typing excellent with no mistakes and her sense of layout and presentation first class. I felt almost cheated yet impressed by her ability. When Miss Linford had gone for lunch, I rang personnel and Gloria's honeyed tones came down the line. 'Gloria, you cow ...' I muttered without rancour '...what have I been landed with here? She's good, I'll grant you, but what a virago! She's scared me to death already. I'm not keeping her, Gloria, however good she is! I'll be a nervous wreck in a fortnight.' Gloria's sigh of resignation was revealing. 'Oh dear, Mr Cooper, we've had that from every man she's worked for yet she is good at her job. I know she's a bit of a tartar, all this formality and rules stuff, but please give it a couple of weeks and see how you go?' With an exasperated sigh, I put the phone down and resigned myself to my fate. It would only be two weeks and then I'd badger them for someone else. Over the next week, Miss Jessica Linford continued to impress and anger in almost equal quantities, her work being excellent but her arrogance and stuffiness so exasperating that I came close to screaming on a number of occasions. After one particularly animated phone call I made to a colleague regarding the late shipment of our product to a key chain store, Miss Linford knocked on my office door and walked in, then proceeded to tell me in no uncertain terms that she was was not prepared to work in a climate of blasphemy and obscene language. Before I could get my breath, she quoted the appropriate section of the company rules chapter and verse and threatened to take her complaint to Personnel if my conduct persisted. What could I do but apologise and again feel like a complete ninny? The torment continued, the next focus being the girlie calendar I'd just received from one of our customers which I hung very discreetly in my office. It wasn't much, just a pouting model for each month showing a bit of tit and a lot of knickers, very mild indeed for today's climate, yet after a dictation session in my office during which I saw Jessica Linford's mouth curl in contempt, a phone call came from Personnel informing me of a complaint from a member of staff about crude and indecent photographs on display. That did it! No matter how good she was at her work, I was going to give Miss frosty faced Linford just the last day of the week and then I'd tell her myself not to bother reporting back to me on Monday. What Personnel did with her I didn't give a damn! On what would have been Miss Linford's last day with me, I was scheduled to go to a meeting at our Head Office from which I would not return until the afternoon thus I gave her more than enough work to do and told her to handle any phone calls before my return at about 3 p.m. As it turned out, the meeting was cut short due to the Managing Director requiring two of the participants at a briefing, so I made the one hour journey back to the office arriving at lunchtime. There was no one around, Miss Linford obviously having just begun her lunch break which she took, strictly and religiously, between 1 and 2pm never returning until the hour was up. I decided to do my tax returns as it was lunchtime and went back into my own office, locking the door once inside. To people who know me this is a familiar practice when I require some peace and quiet, always preferable to 'Fuck off, can't you see I'm busy!' I had been sitting with my calculator for five minutes or so when I heard the door to the secretary's office open and then the sound of Miss Linford's footsteps outside my own office door. I registered mild surprise that she was back so early then looked up as I heard the door knob of my office turn a few times. Obviously satisfied, the footsteps turned away and retreated towards her desk, then I heard her sit down as I returned to the complexity of my tax returns. I had been poring over them for a few moments when I heard a strange sighing coming from the adjacent office. My ears pricked up as I wondered at first what it was, then it occurred again, punctuated with a soft gasp and a long languid moan. Both puzzled and concerned now, I was about to shout out but then imagined the scorn heaped on my head if Miss Linford were merely looking at some sensational item in a newspaper. It's not possible to see into the secretary's office at eye level, only through two panes of glass at the top of the wall so, my curiosity roused, I climbed quietly onto the table by the wall and looked out into Miss Linford's office to find out what was going on. As I looked, my mouth dropped open and I nearly fell off the table. Miss Linford was seated on her swivel chair reading a book, the title clearly displayed on the spine as she held the book up with her left hand. It was ''The Story of O', a book with which I was very familiar! My eyes were drawn to the movements of Miss Linford's other hand as I gazed in goggle eyed astonishment at what she was doing. As her eyes roamed the page of her book, so my ultra correct ice maiden lay back in her seat, her legs splayed, her free hand working under the neat business skirt with some vigour. Miss Linford's skirt was pushed up her thighs, revealing the tops of her dark nylons and the edge of her suspenders as I gazed down with admiration on a stunning pair of legs, jewels hitherto unrevealed to me. I was swallowing hard and beginning to perspire as she suddenly stopped and looked round. At first I thought she'd seen me at the window but she put the book down, rearranged her skirt then walked back to her door which opened onto the main office, turned the key in the lock and went back to her desk. I flattened myself against the wall until she was back at her desk then bobbed up again to stare over the glass partition. I nearly gasped aloud for Jessica Linford was standing by her desk in the process of unzipping and removing her skirt. My hands trembling, I watched as she detached it from her feet and hung it neatly over the back of her chair. She stood revealed in her sheer dark nylons and her suspenders which travelled along a path of shapely white thighs which ultimately disappeared under a pair of soft pink French knickers. Suddenly she looked beautiful, her handsome face suffused in a crimson glow, her modest blouse straining to retain a pair of very firm breasts and one shapely leg slightly raised rubbing gently against the other. She sat down again facing her window, the blinds discreetly drawn, her body angled away from me, and began to read the book, her right hand now moving into the crotch of her knickers, rubbing and stroking as she sighed and moaned. The front of my trousers was now extremely tight and I watched, spellbound, as Miss Linford continued to satisfy her need. Soon she moved her hand to her waist then wriggled a little on her chair and I nearly fell off the table as she began to ease her knickers down. She lifted her feet up to her desk so that she could raise her bottom, then I got a glimpse of one hell of a shapely arse as Miss Linford's panties descended to her knees. She lay back in her chair, legs wide apart, her free hand now vigorously massaging her exposed pussy as she moaned and whimpered in arousal. I was both excited and angry for this apparent paragon of virtue had made my life a misery for nearly a week and here she was masturbating in my secretary's office! I eased myself quietly off the table and tiptoed to my office door, turning the key gently and noiselessly in the lock. I eased the door open and looked around it, breathing a sigh of relief. Miss Linford was far too engrossed to have heard anything so I walked quietly up the office until I stood behind her and looked over her shoulder, her swollen sex below a nest of curly auburn pubic hair clearly in a state of some arousal. 'Just what the hell do you think you're doing?' I suddenly whispered very quietly in her ear and I swear that if any woman could have beaten the world high jump record, Jessica Linford would have done it with no trouble at all. Her face went white, her mouth dropped open and she shot up out of her seat, desperately trying to pull up her knickers as she whimpered and cried. There was no escape for she had been literally caught with her pants down! She managed to get her knickers up and tried to recover her skirt but I moved it out of reach. 'No, Miss Linford ...' I said angrily '...I think we'll leave you like this for Personnel to see when I ring them and explain about your perversions. You will, of course, leave the company with no reference and a very comprehensive report will go to the agency about your behaviour!' At this point, Jessica Linford broke down completely. She thought she was alone in the office, she begged my forgiveness for her lapse and in a few moments of total surrender, said she lived with her very possessive widowed mum who, all her life, had frightened what few men friends she'd had. She admitted she had never had a sexual relationship thus she had thrown her life into her work and, with what little spare time she had, she sought solace in sexually arousing books and this one particularly had deeply affected her. She swore it was the first time it had happened and I could see how deeply humiliating she had found the entire experience in being caught this way. I began to grin to myself for here was a way to keep a damn good secretary and turn the tables so that I was running my own office once more. The super cool detached bitch was gone and in her place was a red faced, tear stained, humiliated woman who could not look me in the eye. I played the situation to the full. 'I understand sexual frustration, Miss Linford ...' I said stiffly '...but I don't see how I can avoid making a full and clear recommendation for dismissal. After all you were just sitting there with your knickers down, masturbating lewdly in front of my eyes. A clear breach of rule 7b 'Indecency in the workplace' I quoted maliciously remembering that one particularly after a goosing incident involving one of my staff at the Xmas party. She howled again in shame as my words struck home and begged me to reconsider, so I asked her what she thought I should do instead. Jessica Linford looked at me with tears streaming from those lovely green eyes and whispered 'Punish me any way you like, Mr Cooper, I'll accept anything you do. I know I deserve it ...but I beg you don't tell anyone about my...my lapse. I couldn't stand the humiliation!' Suddenly excited, I looked her up and down then picked up her book and waved it in front of her anguished face. 'Very well, Miss Linford, perhaps you think that's an easy option, judging by what turns you on, so I hope you can stand pain ...' I snapped and she gulped and nodded '...and I'm not doing this for your honour but for my satisfaction. You are an arrogant stuck up bitch with false airs and graces who acts like a common tart when you think you're alone. This will give me great pleasure!' She blushed and hung her head as I walked to the stationery cupboard at the end of the office, found what I wanted and returned to the trembling Miss Linford who still stood in blouse and knickers, awaiting my decision. Her face paled as she saw what was in my hand and I grinned. 'So you enjoy books about corporal punishment, do you! Have you any idea, Miss Linford, how painful is the sting of a 2ft long, 1/8th inch thick perspex ruler when applied many times to a woman's naked bottom? No? Well you are about to find out!' Jessica Linford paled further and gasped with horror, both hands flying to her face. 'No point in arguing, Miss Linford, or a report goes to personnel. Now you had no inhibitions about taking your knickers down earlier so please repeat the exercise ...NOW!' Sobbing in fear and shame, Jessica Linford turned slightly away from me and pulled her knickers down to her ankles, revealing once more a shapely creamy white bare arse. I motioned to her to face her desk and to bend low over it, hands gripping the far edge. When she was in position, I reached down to her feet and took her knickers right off, then ordered her legs spread wide. She protested indignantly at first, but I would have none of it. 'You seem to be aroused just reading about corporal punishment, Miss Linford, so I wish to study your sexual response to actually receiving it! I don't think you're in a position to argue! Now spread your legs and prepare for twenty four strokes!' Crying softly, Miss Linford obeyed and I was treated to the wonderful view of her pale shapely bottom cheeks parted wide beneath which were the thick fleshy lips of her prominent vulva, like two halves of a split peach. Grinning I ordered her to lean further forward and to stick her bottom further out before raising the ruler to my shoulder. The supple perspex landed with a meaty splaaat across the centre of Miss Linford's white arse and a broad band of crimson suddenly appeared across both juddering cheeks. I was delighted with that as I was with the accompanying squeal and the rolling of Miss Linford's shapely bottom across the desk. I delivered the second stroke a little lower and again the satisfying sound of whippy perspex meeting ripe female arse led to an even louder shriek and a very sensual writhing of fleshy bottom, now adorned by two thick crimson tramlines. I realised that if Miss Linford were to continue shrieking like this, everyone in the Company would soon be banging on the door, so I picked up her knickers, walked round to the front, held my hand over her nose so that her mouth opened involuntarily and stuffed her pants into the space provided. I then ordered her, under the threat of further punishment, not to even dream of removing the gag. Returning to my labours I again began to spank her delightful bottom, observing with pleasure the diminishing area of white on a now glowing crimson arse. My pleasure heightened as I stared at her cunt, the thin seam of her sex now almost imperceptibly more open, the redness of her inner lips apparent as the fleshy labia swelled visibly. So, actions did INDEED speak louder than words!! By the time I'd delivered eighteen strokes Miss Linford was writhing in wanton abandon, muffled squeals emanating from under her gag, her lovely arse the colour of a ripe tomato. Below and beneath, wonderful things were happening too, for her cunt gaped wide open, the hooded cowl of her labia open to reveal the fleshy node of her engorged clitoris. The office neon lights gleamed on the glossy moisture which now seeped out of her vagina as I chuckled in delight. Six more hard strokes and I was done, Miss Linford's bottom doing a war dance as the last hard strokes cut into the crease of her thigh. I took the knickers out of her mouth then, with a final firm hand slap to the reddened buttocks, told her to get up and get on with her work. Miss Linford made no attempt to rise, merely turned her head in desperate invitation, her eyes pleading as her legs parted further and her bottom thrust out, the intent unambiguous. 'Please don't leave me like this ...' she whispered '...I..I've never had a man and ....' her words trailed off as I undid my trousers, released my rock hard penis and took hold of Miss Linford's hips before easing my cock firmly into the wet, warm, tight but receptive sheath as she screamed with delight. Life improved for us both after that and Miss Linford was a woman transformed. Her work was first class as ever but gone was the surly arrogance and the petty spite. She treated me with respect and politeness and her demeanour seemed as one from whom a terrible weight had been removed. In fact, she was a joy to work with. I had decided that I would reinforce my new authority by insisting on 'Sir' as her mode of address and that I would continue the formality of 'Miss Linford' the impersonality making it easier for me to discipline her when the need arose. Over the next few months I found an excuse to spank Miss Linford about once a week on average for some minor shortcoming. Only once did I use the ruler again, usually contenting myself with taking her across my knees, lowering her knickers, and hand spanking that delightful rump until my hand was numb. The effect on both of us was so profound that sex inevitably followed in a locked office, Miss Linford's knickers stuffed into her mouth to inhibit the shrieks of pain and pleasure which she seemed unable to suppress. The highlight of her stay as my temporary secretary came four months later when we had both worked overtime to provide some important marketing statistics for a presentation I was giving the next day. By 8pm when we were both tired and ready to go home, I heard a cry of horror from the adjoining office, soon followed by the appearance of a dejected Miss Linford in front of my desk. 'Sir, I..I don't know how it happened but I've used the wrong coordinates for the tables ...' she whispered lamely '...they're all last years figures!' then hung her head in shame as she awaited my inevitable fury. I stood up, red faced, about to launch into a verbal tirade for it had taken two days to prepare and there was no way we could undo the damage in time for the presentation. As I got to my feet, a sudden wonderful idea occurred to me and my temper subsided immediately. 'Very well, Miss Linford ...' I said calmly '...the presentation is ruined through your carelessness. All is not lost for it can be rearranged but do not cancel the four invitations, merely phone them in the morning and tell them the emphasis has been changed.' Miss Linford was startled by my easy manner and my insistence on going ahead so I enlightened her after writing down a list of items on a sheet of paper and handing it to her. 'Tomorrow morning, Miss Linford, you will take a taxi to Old Compton Street where there is a shop called 'Janus'. From there you will purchase the following items and bring them back to me!' Her face blushed bright crimson and her body trembled as she read the note and I explained the rest of the deal to her in vivid detail, but with a tremor in her voice Miss Linford admitted full responsibility for the foul up and an obligation to make what recompense she could. Next morning, I met our four key clients in reception all of whom had grudgingly agreed to come desite the cancellation of the presentation for which I thanked them and apologised profusely. As we reached the door of the Board Room, I paused. 'Gentlemen ...' I began '...I have invited you here today after the unfortunate cancellation to a very private and, I'm sure I have your word, confidential practical demonstration of our professionalism in making recompense for any failings in the most suitable manner!' then I opened the Board Room door with a flourish and ushered them in, each client stopping dead in his tracks as he entered, loud gasps of shock rippling around the room. Miss Linford, completely naked, lay across the board room table, her hands gripping the far edge and her bottom pushed out as she stood on tip toes with her legs wide apart. On either side of her lay a riding crop, a cane, a studded paddle and a three finger tawse. I continued smoothly:-. 'The lady who awaits your attention was responsible for the cancellation of the presentation through carelessness and she accepts that she must be punished. I suggest you spin for choice of weapons, gentlemen, and for who goes first. Spare neither her feelings or her bottom, gentlemen, for she has cost us all much wasted time. I suggest no more than twelve strokes each after which I believe honour will have been satisfied.' The events that followed resulted in a well reddened, weeping, yet very aroused Miss Linford and, having escorted the by now beaming clients back to reception, I sprinted back to the boardroom where I dealt with the naked lady's pressing sexual needs in very passionate fashion. Ah but all that was two years ago and now I have my faithful, reliable Donna back as if things had never changed. Miss Linford? Oh I have her too, for now she is my beloved Jessica, or Mrs David Cooper, and we are blissfully happy. However, when I have reason to discipline her which I'm delighted to say is quite frequently, I once again become 'Sir' and she becomes my submissive and VERY obedient 'Miss Linford' !!