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As the submissive secretary, I all the time knew that I would have to surrender to my boss’s every whim and desire. It was part of the unwritten agreement that we had, one that allowed me to keep my job and gave him complete control over my body.

I had all the time been drawn to submission, ever since I was a little girl. I would play games with my friends where I would be the one who had to obey their every command, pretending that I was their little slave. As I grew up, though, I realized that it wasn’t just a game for me. It was a fundamental part of who I was, something that I needed in order to feel fulfilled.

So when I started working for Mr. Johnson, I knew that he was the perfect person to fulfill my desires. He was tall, dark, and handsome – the sort of man who exuded power and control. From the moment I met him, I knew that I would do anything he asked of me.

At first, our sessions were relatively simple. I would come into his office, strip down to my underwear, and kneel at his feet while he dictated his emails to me. I would massage his feet, stroke his ego, and do whatever he needed to make him feel good.

But as time went on, our sessions became more intense. He would tie me up, blindfold me, and play with me in methods that I had never even imagined. He would spank me, tease me, and use me in any way he saw fit. And I loved every second of it.

One day, though, things took a turn for the unexpected. I had come into his office for our regular session, only to discover that he was in a foul mood. He had a deadline to meet, and everything I did seemed to annoy him.

After a few minutes of this, he finally snapped. “You’re not doing anything right,” he growled. “I need you to be obedient, damn it!”

Without thinking, I responded, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sir.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering with something that I couldn’t quite read. “Anything?” he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, my heart racing with anticipation.

“Good,” he said, standing up from his desk. “Because I’ve been thinking for a while now that you need more discipline.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I had never been disciplined before, at least not in any serious way. But I knew that I wanted it, that I craved it more than anything else.

He walked over to his cabinet and pulled out a thick leather strap. “Get up and bend over the desk,” he ordered.

I did as I was told, my body trembling with both fear and desire. I felt the cool air against my bare bottom, knowing that I was completely at his mercy.

Then I felt the first sting of the strap as it struck my flesh, and I cried out in pain. But even as tears streamed down my face, I knew that I would take whatever he had to offer.

The spanking went on for what felt like hours, my bottom growing raw and sore with each strike. But even as I sobbed and begged for mercy, I knew that this was exactly where I belonged.

When he was finally done, he allowed me to stand up and turn around. My eyes were blurry with tears, but I could see the hunger in his gaze as he looked me over.

“That was good,” he said. “But it’s not enough.”

And with that, he took me again, pushing me to my limits and beyond. He pushed me to the brink, testing my obedience and devotion until I was a quivering mess.

But through it all, I knew one thing for certain – I would all the time surrender to my boss’s domination, no matter what the cost.
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