Please tell me that did not just happen. I did not allow my boss to bend me over his desk and spank my bare ass. It couldn’t possibly have happened and yet it did and I can’t believe it. Because I’m still shaking and walking down the hallway like I’m stumbling out of the vampire’s lair.

My knees are threatening to buckle out under me, my heart is still racing and my skin is tingling hotly all over. But nowhere is hotter than my ass cheeks. They sting with every step I take as the lining of my skirt scratches over my skin.

I am humiliated at how much I loved his hand on my butt. How being exposed and laid out on his desk like a buffet made me soak my underwear. I’m making a half-blind, lust-blind dash to the cloakroom where I left my hanging bag. Along with my dress for the party, I brought a change of underwear and fortunately its a no VPL thong so my cheeks will get a rest from the chafing. Every step I take drives me more crazy with need. And I am shocked with myself for wanting my boss like this.

I yank my phone out and text Tai.

Where are you?

The response pops right back.

On my way

Make it quick. I reply.

WhatsUpp?

I can’t tell him via text, it’s too damn embarrassing.

Just get here soon

He sends a thumbs up emoticon and I crash into the washroom to change out of my sullied outfit. I doubt I’ll be able to look at myself in the mirror while wearing it ever again. I dash over to the lit reflection over the basins and note how flushed my face is, almost glowing. I look like someone who needs to get off. No, I’m probably imagining that. There’s no way of telling that just by looking. Is there?

I lean in to examine myself closer. Something is definitely different. My eyes are sparkly, my skin all pink and somehow luminous. As soon as Tai arrives, we’re out of here. We can go to a bar for a stiff cocktail or twenty. And he can tell me what the hell my next move is because I’m stumped. Do I resign? Quit my job and then what? How the hell do I go out there and face Milo after what just happened? And will everyone be able to read the lust shining from my body?

My eyes flick up to the stalls behind. My skin is stretching with the pressure of need. I desperately want to get off, every pore is craning for a climax. It’s completely nuts. I’m never like this. Can one spanking have made me into a nympho? I really need Tai to tell me if that’s a thing.

Breathe.

I take a bunch of deep ones and don’t feel any different. My body is still pulsating hungrily, like a caged panther it knows its prey is out there.

Shit.

I undo the buttons on my shirt. Noting that the top one is missing, I toss it in the garbage can. Then, even though I’m the only girl on this floor, I step into the stall to change. I don’t trust Milo not to have some superTech watching and listening. Call me paranoid, but one thing I know is my industry. We’re being watched.

I change my underwear and dump the dripping wet pair into the bin. Then I shimmy into the dress I chose for tonight. Heels, and I’m ready. I can’t wear a bra because of the low back but when I step out and check my reflection I decide I’ll do. Not stunning but not a dog either. The right amount of sexy without being slutty which my co-workers have a big hate for.

I decide to leave the mask in place. It’s a masque theme party and some pixie is only going to insist I wear one. Oh damn, the pixie. I remember that one of them burst into the office and caught me in full sprawl. I’ve been so hot and bothered with hunger for my boss that damning piece of evidence somehow slipped my memory. Shit. Well maybe the change of clothes and the mask will disguise me sufficiently.

The party started half an hour ago and all my colleagues set a schedule App. Every one of them gets irate if anything even runs two minutes over. I know they’ll all be there by now, not a fashionably late type among them. I’d give my right burning buttock as wager it won’t be swinging. That would be an unlikely occurrence even if we stayed there all weekend, what with that nerdy crew.

I hang around by the main entrance, waiting for Tai to arrive. He really should have been here by now.

“Ho,ho,ho.”

Jesus. Seriously?

I turn around and there’s a six four Santa with a huge belly and from the physique I can tell it’s Lance, Head of HR, in a costume with a huge beard he clearly thinks will disguise his identity.

“Come along little girl,” he says and drags me by the arm toward the office, now transformed into the Winter Wonderland theme.

How cheesy - I bet Tania and her crew have really gone to town with the spray can snow everywhere and we’ll be picking it out of filing cabinets until Spring.

“But I -“ I try to demur without success.

“You just come with me,” Lance says with a leer, “Tell Daddy what you want for Christmas.”

“Daddy?”

“Did I say daddy? I meant to say Santa, little girl.”

We step through the doors and I double take a few times, sure we’ve entered the wrong room. It’s like we’ve crossed into another dimension. Not least because every desk and other trace of office business has vanished.

“Wow,” I breathe, looking everywhere at once, all my senses firing.

The blue white lighting makes the office seem like a real ice palace. The floor is entirely covered in snow and it looks real - nothing like cotton wool. As do all the pine trees covered with snowy branches. There are ice sculptures and those are real I think, plus giant glittery snowflakes coming down from the ceiling. It’s magical and mysterious as some digital effect makes it appear to be snowing indoors. Best of all is the ice rink set up towards the center. Some of the guys are already skittering around like little kids and crashing into each other.

Ohmigod, they aren’t the only ones wiping out. At one end of the large space, a ski run is set up. Easy to accomplish in an office that was once an aircraft hangar. People are coming down on boards in pairs - some of my nerdy colleagues have grabbed themselves a pixie from the set-up team to ride between their legs.

Ouch. Cutter comes down, hollering and whooping before wiping out at the bottom, presumably with a little help from the hot wine/tequila stand at the top of the hill. Lance from HR has dragged me into an open cave space set up like a grotto with yet more of the ubiquitous pixies in fishnets and a huge silvery throne.

“Come along little girl. Come sit on daddy’s knee,” He says as he yanks my arm toward his chair.

“Santa,” I hiss, my irritation getting the better of me.

Lance lowers himself then puts his big hands on my hips to pull me down onto his lap. He jogs his thighs up and down like he’s dandling an infant and throws me a smug filthy grin as he grinds into my slit.

“Let me go, Lance,” I snarl. He’s holding me fast and in about one second I’m going to make a scene.

“Lance, who’s Lance?” He shouts jovially, “Ho, ho, ho.”

“I’ll ho ho you right in the balls if you don’t take your hands off me right now,” I snap at him again with a no-I’m-not-playing-and-this-is-not-my-flirty tone.

He looks at me, searching my eyes behind the mask for whether I’m serious, whether I’m going to make a New Year enemy out of the head of HR.

“You heard the lady,” a smooth voice behind me opines, adding with heavy sarcasm, “Lance.”

“Oh, yes sir,” Lance croaks and his hands fly back as though he’s been scalded by my body. “Sorry sir,” he adds, acting all contrite like nothing really happened.

“We’ll take this up in my office first thing,” my boss tells him.

His sexily chiseled jaw is rigid with fury and his arms are bowing like he’s shaping up for a fight. He picks me up off Lance’s knee like I weigh nothing and before I have a chance to make the shift myself, so stunned am I by how gorgeous he looks, dressed like a prince.

He sets me down like I’m his Russian doll and puts a hand on my lower back to guide me out of Santa’s grotto.