Yes. And they also decided that change of perspective would be a good idea.

Hours later Sara sat on her bed and winced at how raw her behind still felt. She fruitlessly tried not to blush, the event bubbling to the front of her mind yet again.

The secretary stood up and walked around the desk. Her boss tried moving his chair back, but the wall of the small office said no. She giggled and helped him move the desk away, then laid herself out on his lap with a wide smile. Unbidden, she pulled up her skirt above her waist and pulled her panties down to her knees. She then lifted her feet off the ground and held them at 90 degree angle, held aloft only by his strong legs...

Sara had no idea what she was so happy about. There, in the office, the situation felt natural and expected. But here, in her home, away from that man (and, unbeknownst to her, the source of her confusion)? She felt terrified and angry!.. Or at least she thought she should be, but the whole even had that veil of unreality to it the way fiction does. Like the experience didn't happen to her, but to some character.

The secretary gasped as suddenly the open palm hit her supple ass. That simple strike sent feelings through her like none she ever felt. Pain was there, but it was more like the vehicle for the pleasure, satisfaction, and... justice? Before she was able to process, another palm landed. She realized that in her reverie the boss took hold of her hands like they were a handle. She hungrily drank in the feeling of being less than human, in her place and at his mercy. Another 3 slaps in quick secession sent her legs cutely wiggling in delight. It felt SO GOOD.

And Sara had no idea why. Even now, simply remembering those feelings was enough to get her going like nothing she's ever seen. The wrongness of it all, the casual objectification, the impropriety of a boss sexually assaulting his secretary with her full enthusiastic consent... It didn't take away from the scene, but unexpectedly added to it like some exotic spice. Never before had she had such thoughts, her taste in porn mostly vanilla, with a hint of gay. And yet it took almost all of her willpower not to start masturbating right now.

Her boss' strong arms pulled her up, his knee painfully digging into her abdomen. Her ear was brought to his lips, a commanding whisper escaping it: "You should really count, girl. I don't have all day." Before she could give her apology, he let her fall back down on his lap, taking her breath away, and immediately swinging for her lower cheeks. It took another 3 slaps for her to finally say...

"One! Thank-" Sara stopped. She was breathing heavily, her pajamas getting soggy with her sweat. She didn't need to say it out loud anymore. It was just a dream- a memory! She was safe here, she was-

_"Good girl." Her boss purred, making Sara shudder all over. Another strike whistled through the air, landing on her no doubt red behind._

"Two! Th- Thank you!" Sara couldn't stop. The illusion was just so delicious she couldn't stop herself. She rolled on her stomach, put her face into the pillow, and raised her ass in the air on her knees. Was she really doing this, she though as she pulled her bottoms down yet again.

"Good girl."

"Ah! Three! Thank you!" New, real pain spread through her, but it also felt earned.

Two more came in quick succession.

"Four! Five! Thank you!" Tears burst out just like they had before.

"You have to thank me properly after every one, so these two don't count." And then her boss kept going, not stopping for her to get the word in.

"Ah! Four! Ah! Th-Ah!-nk you! Five! Ah! Ah! Ah! Mmmmm! Five! Thank youuuuu! Six! Thank you, sir! Ah! Ah!" Sara was terrified and that terror was like a sweetest cake in the entire bakery. She started sobbing, waterworks not just dropping out of her eyes, but also her ridiculously wet pussy.

He just wouldn't stop.

"I'm sorry!" She cried out, an almost orgasmic wave hitting her like a truck. "I'm sorry, sir! Se- Seven! Thank you, sir! Ouch! Eight, sir! Thank you, sir! Nine,sir,thankyou,sir!"

The barrage paused. It hanged in the air, silent and inescapable. Sara couldn't see. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, chest, and her raw red ass. Her breathing was hitched. Her arms painfully grasping each other behind her back.

And then it landed. It was much lighter than the others. Like a forceful staccato at the end of a song. Sara could've handled it. But the hand landed not on her ass.

But on her pussy.

Her spine arched and her mouth opened to scream, but two fingers **** themselves into her throat. Her eyes rolled up and the second most powerful orgasm she ever experienced hit her mind. Somehow in the convulsing squirting body she found the correct words and gurgled them around the intruding hand.

Ten, sir. Thank you, sir.

He allowed it, and was gracious enough to give her a few minutes to reset, affectionately stoking her behind all the while. When Sara came to, she managed to remember the next part of her instructions. The secretary slid down between his legs and opened his fly with her teeth. Sara eyed the purple plastic shaft dislodged from under her pillow. She brought her tongue to the tip and greedily savored the taste. She diligently licked the underside to get it nice and wet. And finally, she pushed it between her lips and into her waiting throat.

The secretary moaned around the rod. She wasted so much time after coming home. She just hoped her boss will be kind and accept her self punishment. But for now she had a throat to train.