Ladies... you have secretly known of this place and have longed to be taken here... to that hidden corner apart from reality where you'll be treated like the naughty little girl you are. Please enter and enjoy. -Alex B.

Location: San Diego, California

Monday, August 15, 2005

by Alex B.

Stacey Bates was a secretary with a secret. The secret involved her desk which was originally placed next to a window on the sixteenth floor of the Brooks Building. One day, she had it moved to the other side of the room. She told her co-workers that she did this because the view made her dizzy. But that wasn't the reason. She preferred her desk there because all she had to do was lean over and put an ear to the wall in order to hear everything that was happening in the office occupied by her boss, Spencer Hayden. She listened in while company meetings were taking place, during private conferences and whenever he was on the phone. She wasn’t trying to find out anything she didn’t already know, she just liked the sound of Mr. Hayden’s firm, authoritative voice.

The lovely Miss Bates had what might be called a schoolgirl crush on the handsome Mr. Hayden. She often daydreamed about how his lips might taste, what he looked like in his pajamas and where they would spend their honeymoon.

Mr. Hayden, however, showed very few signs of interest in Miss Bates.

Of course, there was that one time...

A month earlier, Stacie had attended a Christmas party at the home of the company's owner. Spencer had been tapped to play Santa Claus at the event. Midway through the evening, he entered to much applause through the front door. Dressed in a heavily padded red suit and sporting a polyester beard, Spencer hauled his sack of gifts into the den where a large easy chair had been placed next to the tree especially for him. Stacey stood near the fireplace, sipping rum-laced eggnogs as she watched her fellow employees line up to tell Santa what they wanted for Christmas. Forty minutes and three drinks later, there was no one left in line. Stacey realized that, if she was going to do something, she’d have to do it right then. So she tossed back one last gulp of nog and headed directly for the jolly old elf. Without ceremony, she plopped herself onto Santa’s lap, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and planted a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek.

"Ho ho ho!" Spencer laughed, a bit overcome by Stacey’s eagerness. "Merry Christmas! Now tell Santa, have you been a good little girl?"

The young lady pouted a little and leaned over to whisper into Spencer’s ear.

"No, Santa. I haven’t been a good girl at all. In fact, I’ve been very bad." As she spoke, she toyed with a button on Santa’s jacket while her other hand slipped behind his neck and flicked at the string that held his beard on. "You see, I’ve been having these naughty thoughts about my boss. All day I think about him calling me into his office and ordering me to bend over across his desk. When I hesitate, he slaps my bottom... really hard! So I bend over. He lifts my dress up and pulls my panties down. Then he slaps my fanny again, this time even harder. It’s stings likes crazy and it’s so humiliating, but for some reason I don’t want him to stop. He smacks my ass cheeks again and again, harder and harder until I think I can’t take any more. Then he steps back and starts to undo his belt."

Spencer cleared his throat and tried to pretend that Stacey’s whisperings weren’t quite so intriguing.

"I see... so you want a DVD player. Well, that’s sounds nice..."

"I know I’ve been a very, very bad, Santa." Stacey quietly continued. "I’ll bet I only get a lump of coal in my stocking this Christmas. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you turned me across your lap and gave me a good spanking in front of all these people."

Spencer was stunned. Not knowing what to say, he simply continued staring into Stacey’s eyes.
Before he could reply, someone in the next room announced that it was time to play charades.
As the guests began filing out of the den, Stacey hopped off Spencer’s lap and gave his other cheek a kiss.

"Too bad." she said. "It would have been fun."

Spencer’s eyes were glued to Stacey’s bottom swaying beneath her skirt as she walked away. Stacey stopped and turned around.

"Are you coming, Santa?"

"Just about to." Spencer called out as he attempted to adjust his fuzzy red trousers. "I think first old Saint Nick needs to splash a little cold water on his face. Go on without me."

Stacey went into the next room and watched the others play party games. All the while, she waited patiently for her boss near a doorway that was decorated with a sprig of mistletoe. But he never showed up. When the party ended, Stacey could only assume that she'd embarrassed Spencer and that he had simply bolted.

In the weeks that followed, it seemed to Stacey that Mr. Hayden was going out of his way to avoid her. He barely acknowledged her presence as he entered and exited her office and almost never called her into his. It had become difficult for her to speak with him as well. Stacey began to suspect that her stunt at the Christmas party had created a permanent state of awkwardness between them.

One day, the last day of January, Stacey found herself once again with her ear to the wall outside Spencer’s office. He'd been tapping away on his keyboard for nearly half an hour. This was unusual because Spencer normally preferred to dictate letters and rarely used his own computer. As she listened in, she noticed several long pauses before he began typing again. Eventually the typing stopped all together. Spencer suddenly bolted out of his office.

"I'm going out to lunch." he said.

"Oh. Okay." Stacey replied as she watched him disappear around the corner. She was mystified by his behavior. He hadn’t even looked at her as he passed. Stranger still, he seemed quite flustered. "Was he blushing?" she thought.

Stacey glanced over at the door to Mr. Hayden’s office, then stood and walked over to it. She turned the knob, opened the door and poked her head inside. There was nothing unusual to be seen in there- just an empty office. As she began to close the door, Stacey noticed what appeared to be a memo crumpled up in the wastebasket. Spurred on by curiosity, she walked in, bent down and plucked the piece of paper from the trash. She unfolded and pressed it flat against the top of the desk as she read from it.

To Stacey Bates: 11:45 a.m.

I've been imagining the two of us in my large leather office chair. You’re sitting in my lap with an orange in your hands. I take it and carefully pull the peel away. We rock back and forth kissing and feeding sections of fruit to each other. As I lick a few errant drops of juice from between your breasts, I decide that the hardening pink buds beneath your brassiere could do with a good tongue lashing. You agree and in a moment your blouse and bra are mere memories. I dip you forward, your silken tresses nearly brushing the floor as I flick your swollen nipples with the slick tip of my attentive tongue, roughly sucking and gently biting them between licks and kisses. Then, without warning, I lift you up and bend you over my left leg. I announce that I’m well aware of your eavesdropping, that I know you spend much of your workday with your hot little ear pressed to the wall, listening in on my private business. My hand is underneath your skirt yanking your panties down before you can catch your breath. A cool gust of air across your bottom as your skirt flies up is followed by a sharp hot slap. I spank you soundly until you begin sobbing, until your legs involuntarily kick with each swat, until your pale round cheeks are pink and throbbing. Afterward, I hold you in place, patting and massaging your tender, stinging ass. Eventually, you stand up only to turn and drape yourself across my desk. Looking over your shoulder at me, you brush a tear from your face and smile hungrily. You rise up on the balls of your feet. I watch mesmerized as your hips begin to sway this way and that. Charmed by this invitation, I stand and start to unbuckle my belt.

That's where the memo ended.

When Spencer returned from his lunch break, he was surprised to see that Stacey was not at her desk. He entered his office and found the note he'd thrown away earlier, flattened out and placed in the middle of his desktop. On the bottom of it, beneath his words, was a note in what he immediately recognized as Stacey's handwriting.

To Spencer Hayden: 1:05 p.m.

I'm not sure where this memo was going, but I can't wait to find out! I'll be back in a few minutes. I've gone down to the market to buy an orange.



Blogger Kelli said...

Alex, i am jealous of your fabulous writing. I have done several stories myself, but i think that they lack something. Anyway, if you have any advice i would love to hear it. Thanks, Kelli

5:32 PM  
Blogger Alex B. said...

Thanks, Kelli!

My advice is- write down your
wildest fantasy including every
detail. (The tiniest details
are often the most important.)

Don't write with someone else
in mind. Write for yourself.
Successful comedy writers say
that they simply write what makes
them laugh. I think it's the same
with erotic writing- if it turns
you on, it will excite others
as well.

Also, don't be afraid to start
in the middle and work outward.
I did that with this story.
I jotted down a little paragraph
about a woman sitting in a man's
lap as they feed pieces of an
orange to each other, which I
thought was sexy, then I built
the whole story around that.

Finally, write when you're in
the mood. Drive yourself crazy
typing the sexiest stuff you
can think of and don't stop until
you absolutely have to take a
break (if you know what I mean).

Like I say, if it turns you on,
it'll be a turn-on for your

I look forward to reading
Your work.

Alex B.

1:05 PM  

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