Correcting Ms. Hardin

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Correcting Ms. Hardin Page 5

by David O. Sullivan


  How dare he shush me? Who is this man? He has the hands of an angel and the devil. The massage soothed her muscles and the headache disappeared. Her eyes shot open as she envisioned him finishing the kneading and wrapping arms around her. Her pussy tingled.

  “Shhhh, turn your mind off, Ms. Hardin. I hear it whirling.”

  How can he know that? She closed her eyes again, melting into the chair. Yes, if only his hands were rubbing her all over, how her body needed attention. Her pussy tingled again. She tried to relax but had limited success. She repeated relax, relax to herself, and it finally worked. Her muscle tension evaporated and she was filled with a warmth and healthfulness long wanting in the fibers of her body. She moaned. Her mind floated with the sensation of being in a distant, loving, and safe place.

  He squeezed her shoulders. “That’s all for now. I hope it helps.”

  She blinked herself awake and stole a glance at the wall clock. She’d been in his hands fifteen minutes. It could have been hours. She tried to find her voice. He handed her his cup, she drank. “Thank you.” She sipped again. She wondered if there was a magic warlock’s brew in there. She pushed a fantasy aside of rushing into his arms. “It’s been a long time, a very long time since I’ve felt this good. Your hands are—” She took one into hers and shivered. “Your hands are magical.”

  He smiled like a doting caregiver. She released his hand and pressed hers to her clothing as she stood. “Well, that was very nice, but we need to get back to business.”

  He sipped from his cup, smiled, and opened the door. “Robert, Ms. Hardin and I will be another twenty minutes. She requests not to be disturbed for that period of time.”

  “Yes, Solomon.”

  He turned the volume up on her sound system, and padded toward her. She took a step back. He held his hand out to her. She took another step back and clasped her hands behind her. Fear welled inside as she slowly shook her head. He captured her hand and led her to the couch. She didn’t resist. “You’re not my father.”

  “As good a man as I’ve heard he is, it’s clear his negligence was failing to discipline you in your youth. You were never spanked, were you?”

  Her body shook. “Not since I was a little girl.” Her throat tightened at the squeak of an answer. “You’re not my father,” she repeated.

  He sighed as he sat. She allowed herself to be draped over his knee. Damn it. Why am I allowing him to do this? Fire him. Call the police. Change the locks.

  He placed one hand on the small of her back, rubbing gently, and the other on her butt. “I’m not your father, but consider me your Christmas ghost.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, you’re Jewish. Then consider me your mentor ghost.”

  She tried to inject humor into the embarrassing situation. “There were three Christmas ghosts in Dickens’ story.”

  His answer came through a chuckle. “The economy’s been hard on all sectors.”

  In an instant, the first spank arrived, and she braced herself. Another followed, and a few dozen more came, each one rocking her body. He lifted her skirt and spanked her. At least her panties were up. That was the last bastion of dignity.

  “Please, Solomon, don’t do this.” She knew he wouldn’t stop.

  “That’s like asking a doctor not to administer a poison’s antidote.”

  He spanked. She sobbed. How can he go from loving massage therapist to evil spanker in minutes? She pounded her hands into the couch as he slapped her, raising a burning fire in both cheeks. She sobbed and moaned, but the spanking continued. He even spanked the top of her thighs, which hurt worse than the ones on her ass. She clamped a hand over her mouth for fear the others outside would hear.

  “Ow!” she sobbed.

  He pulled her panties down—so much for the last bastion—and continued spanking her. “Yes, cry. Let it out. As your tears flow they carry with them the sins of your past, and they cleanse your heart and soul.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” She began sobbing openly.

  “You need help. One can only guess why the powers above caused us to meet. I can’t go into your mind to discover how you became a mean Scrooge, but I know the antidote, and this is it.”

  He spanked her more, faster, harder, harder than last week. She clamped her mouth again to stifle herself. What would she do if anyone ever found out a practicing attorney and owner of a firm at thirty-one would be spanked like a child?

  Dear God, let it be over! Make him stop! She was glad the founding partners had each office built with thick, soundproofed doors and foam insulation in the walls to guarantee nothing said in an office could be heard outside of it. Now it protected her immense embarrassment. Suddenly, he stopped, guided her to the side, and stood.

  He gave his handkerchief to her and brought her water. She dabbed her eyes and like a magnet’s pull, he drew her into his embrace. “I give my time and effort to you because I’m guided to do so. I don’t understand why. I never should have taken this position, but now that I’m here, I’m compelled to do as much good as I can.”

  She held him tight, as tight as she’d ever held a lover. Energy flowed from him to her, like osmosis. Her heart pounded. She enjoyed his masculine cologne and gentle post-spanking ways.

  He released her. “I do this to help and encourage you to be a good person and employer. I don’t want to embarrass you before the others, but I will if your actions dictate it. Go freshen your makeup, while I tell Robert you’ll be busy for a while longer.”

  She nodded and spoke in an anemic voice. “Thank you.”

  He left.

  Why had she said that? Why had she thanked him for spanking her? She knelt on the couch with her torso draped over the back, rubbing her sore ass.

  Why hadn’t her dad ever spanked her? She hadn’t been a perfect child. She remembered many misdeeds that would have called for an over-the-knee correction session.

  Her ass stung. She made it to the bathroom, but it hurt to sit on the toilet. She remembered how she had played up her false cancer diagnosis as a child, even then knowing it was wrong. Was she now reaping what she’d sowed?

  Chapter Seven

  Robert checked the time as he returned from lunch and buzzed Ms. Hardin on the com line.

  “Yes, Robert.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you. Solomon didn’t say how long to leave you alone, but, well, I’m just wondering, it’s 1 p.m. Have you had lunch?” He emotionally stiffened for an anticipated tirade, and wondered why he bothered to care about her.

  “Ohhh, gosh, I didn’t realize the time.” She sighed, but her tone seemed amiable. “Yes, I’m quite hungry and have nothing in my refrigerator.”

  “I’ll go out for anything you’d like.”

  “Robert, your time is more valuable than that. Please call the delivery service. I’d love a chef’s salad with oil and balsamic vinegar on the side.”

  “Yes, Ms. Hardin.”

  “Ask around the office to see if anyone wants anything.”

  Robert shook his head in surprise at the kindness and concern for others in her voice. Aside from her bringing pastries the other day, it shocked him. “Everyone’s had lunch except Solomon. He’s been in his office working on files and cases.”

  “Be sure you ask him.”

  “Yes, Ms. Hardin.” He put the phone down and again shook his head.

  The delivery service brought two chef’s salads. Phil served Solomon his, and Robert knocked at Ms. Hardin’s door.

  She responded with a cheery, “Come in.”

  He placed her food on the side table. “Here you go, is there anything else, Ms. Hardin?”

  A soft smile parted her lips as she pushed away from the computer. “Thank you, Robert, for your kindness.” She hesitated. “I appreciate your work; you do a good job.”

  He stiffened inside; such warming words had never leaked from her lips before. “It’s good to know I can rely on you. I’ll notify the accountant that you’re to receive a fifteen percent pay increase immedia
tely.” She paused. “I’ll arrange for everyone to have a pay raise.”

  He swallowed in awe. “Thank you, Ms. Hardin.” He shuffled his feet in surprise.

  “I know I’m a bitch to work for, and I’m not cordial. I’m working to be a better person. I hope you’re not looking for another job.”

  He lied. “No, I’m not.” He wondered if he should go on the interview with the other law firm at the end of the week. “Thank you for the raise, Ms. Hardin. I have to get back to my desk. There’s a lot to do before five o’clock.”

  She moved to the side table and opened her salad. “Yum, looks wonderful.” She met his gaze. “Robert, if overtime is needed, just be sure you note it on your timecard. When I was in your position, I hated having to work without compensation. Did Solomon get food?”

  “Thank you. Yes, Solomon also ordered a chef salad, and Phil gave it to him.” He excused himself and returned to his desk, wondering if he was dreaming. He texted his lover to share the joy of his unforeseen salary increase and the meteoric morphing of Ms. Hardin’s personality.

  The week flew by with Robert often shaking his head in wonder at the changes in Ms. Hardin. She said please and thank you a few times and fuck seemed to have evaporated from her vocabulary. Others in the office joked that aliens had secretly replaced her with a droid. Robert realized he took fewer stomach acid tablets and his stress level receded. He wondered if Ms. Hardin was on drugs or getting laid regularly.

  Friday morning, Phil came to him. “Robert, I’m taking the afternoon off. Can you cover for me with Solomon? He knows.”

  Phil’s jaw was clenched, and his usual jovial personality was flat. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m taking my mom to the doctor. She found two lumps in her breast.”

  “Oh, no. I hope the best for her.”

  “Thank you.”

  Solomon’s voice came from behind them. “Take Monday off if you need it, too.”

  Phil turned. “Ms. Hardin doesn’t like us to be gone too much.”

  Solomon smiled like a wise man. “Ms. Hardin will understand if the situation is explained to her.”

  Robert dared to venture what had been in his mind for a while. “And if anyone can achieve that momentous accomplishment, it’ll be you. You have no idea how things have improved since you’ve been on board.”

  “I’m glad to be of assistance.”

  Phil added, “We know who you are, and respect what you did at the other law firm. I lasted six months on the top floor. I hated it.”

  Robert added, “Me, too. Sometimes I think I went from the frying pan into the fire, if you’ll excuse the cliché; at least there isn’t internal sabotage here. It takes a lot of courage to take on the biggest firm in the city.”

  Solomon seemed uneasy at the praise. “My father often said, ‘all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.’ That rests in my mind often.”

  Robert averted his eyes.

  Solomon queried, “What is it, Robert?”

  “No, I’d be out of line.”

  Solomon put a hand on his shoulder. “I like to think of this firm as a team.”

  Robert swallowed in nervousness. “I think we should have weekly meetings, maybe forty-five minutes, to discuss things and seek ways to excel and improve. We can call it our How to be better session.” He shook his head. “Sorry, that’s silly. Forget it.”

  Phil play-punched his shoulder. “I think it’s a good idea.”

  Solomon’s eyes crinkled from his deep smile. “Great idea! Phil, before you leave for the day, send out an email to everyone in the office that next Thursday afternoon we’ll have such a session. It’ll be totally informal. Invite them to wear bunny slippers or any other casual wear. Let’s say it’ll be at 4:15 p.m.”

  Robert cut in. “We need to clear that with Ms. Hardin.”

  Solomon’s deep smile morphed to an almost evil grin. “Phil, send that message from my email. Ms. Hardin’s too busy to deal with that now.”

  “Yes, sir!” Phil rushed to his desk with a wide grin.

  * * *

  At 4:45 Robert knocked at Solomon’s door. Sol looked up with fatigue flattening his face. “I’m leaving in fifteen minutes; do you need anything before I go?” Robert worried Sol was working too hard as he’d basically chained himself to his desk since lunch.

  Solomon rubbed his eyes and stretched. “Gosh, the time has flown. I need nothing, Robert. Thank you for covering for Phil. You should go now.”

  “I can’t. We’re required to wait until five o’clock.”

  That same evil half-grin appeared. “Tell Ms. Hardin I sent you home early.”

  “But—”

  “It’s okay; trust me.”

  A rush of an internal rainbow filled Robert. “How do you control her?”

  “I don’t seek to control, but rather to be a positive influence.”

  “I want my kids to be like you. You’re a wise man.” He gasped at exposing a secret.

  “Kids? Are you and your boyfriend adopting?”

  He wished he could take the words back, and resigned himself to the truth. “My wife and I are planning to get pregnant.”

  Solomon’s eyebrow lifted, and a smirk grew. “Does your boyfriend know you have a wife?”

  “I’m not gay, and I think you know it. I said I was to get the job. Ms. Hardin is so hung up on avoiding any potential romance in the office.” He moved closer to Solomon. “She got burned very badly years ago.”

  Solomon laughed. “You realize you’ll have to come out as straight someday.”

  Robert chortled as he left and knocked at Ms. Hardin’s open door. She lifted her tired eyes to him from her computer. “Ms. Hardin, Solomon told me to leave for the day.” He stiffened in anticipation of her rage.

  She shot her eyes to the clock. “It’s not five yet.”

  “I’m sorry, Solomon told me, but I realize it’s your firm—”

  She stroked her chin. “Of course, I’m sorry, it’s only a few minutes, and I’m certain Solomon had good cause to tell you to leave. Start your weekend early. I hope you and your boyfriend enjoy it.”

  “Thank you.” He strode to his car and laughed to himself, wondering if he should put a picture of some man on his desk.

  * * *

  Solomon finished working on a client’s file, stood, stretched, and went to Ms. Hardin’s office. The door was open and he knocked. She looked up and nodded. He entered. “How do you feel about the week?”

  She blinked and stayed silent, obviously weighing and calculating her response as most attorneys in such a situation would. He waited, intentionally keeping his countenance flat.

  “I think it was quite a productive week for the firm.”

  “I agree. The others were happy with the goodies you brought on Monday and the pay raises, which no one expected or hoped for.”

  “They tell you such things?”

  “Yes. How do you personally feel about the week?”

  She bristled. “I hated that you spanked me. Is that what you want me to say?”

  “I’d like you to speak from your heart rather than your legal brain.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. When they opened, her voice had softened. “I only had two headaches, and your massage was tremendous. I think I feel human. My stress has been lower, and I never realized how much I swear.”

  “I’ve noticed your efforts. I ignored a few sailor-like expressions. The ‘f’ word doesn’t belong in a professional environment with rare, very rare exceptions.” He stood, took her hand with a gentle grip, and led her to the couch.

  “What are you doing? I’ve been good.”

  He sat and guided her over his lap. She complied with zero resistance. He rested one hand on the back of her neck and gently massaged. The other hand rested on her butt. “This is a maintenance spanking. It will be shorter and gentler than one for discipline. Instead of tensing and worrying, take some breaths and allow yourself to relax.”
r />   With a quiver in her voice, she objected. “I’ve been good the last few days. I don’t deserve this.”

  “It’s not a matter that you deserve it so to say, rather that you need it, quite badly. Doctors give medicine over a prescribed course of time. Consider this your medicinal spanking.” He began with light strikes over her skirt to both cheeks, upper, middle and lower into the top of her thighs.

  “But I’ve been good.”

  “Yes. This is medicinal.” He spanked with a cadence, keeping the impact level at medium.

  She stiffened her body, tried to relax it, and tightened again. “I’ve been good and have never heard of medicinal spanking. You have no right to spank me. I’m your employer, your supervisor.”

  He spanked on. “I have no right to correct you; rather, it’s a duty. I don’t know why I’ve been burdened with it, but I’m in the time and place, so I accept the duty. Contrary to common lore, not all attorneys are evil, manipulative, and money hungry.” He continued her spanking, all the while watching the time.

  She fell silent except for grunts timed with the spanks. He hiked her skirt. She gasped. His hand fell on her plain white panties.

  Each time his hand landed on her butt, he rubbed her shoulder. There was a strange and long-absent sensation in his chest as he lowered her panties, exposing her pink ass.

  “Please, not that. It’s the ultimate embarrassment. I don’t deserve a bare-ass spanking.”

  “I understand, but again, it’s for your own good.” He gently squeezed the back of her neck and then each shoulder. “Settle into it.”

  Solomon spanked her again, starting lighter than the last ones but soon building. He spanked slowly, letting each strike settle in. When she tensed, he waited for her to relax before another swat. A soft moan from her came with each one.

  He finished. “You can stand; it’s over.”

  She jumped to her feet, rubbing her butt and settling her skirt. She wiped her face of a few tears. Their eyes met, and he pulled her into a hug.

  “I know you’re trying to improve, and others have noticed it. They’re waiting to see if the change is temporary or permanent. I’m confident in your skills and intelligence to be better, but you need to realize I’ll take a paddle, belt, or both to you as needed. You decide. If your conduct requires it, I’ll spank you in front of the staff. Be bad in public, and there’s no ‘wait until we get home.’ Do we understand each other?” He wondered briefly if he was falling in love with her. No, it was way too soon, but yet, something about her found a place in his heart, making him smile.

 

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