Vivian’s Office Discipline: Naughty Girls Get Spanked

The morning shift was barely half over when I caught them. The phone lines were supposed to be quiet, professional, dripping with seduction—but instead I heard giggles, teasing whispers, and the unmistakable sound of someone getting far too handsy under the desk. My girls had decided to be naughty today, breaking every rule in the book. As Day Manager, it was my job to restore order. And I intended to do it personally.

One by one I summoned them to my office. The door clicked shut behind each girl with a finality that made their eyes widen. The room smelled faintly of my jasmine perfume and the leather of my chair. A sturdy wooden paddle rested conspicuously on the desk, next to the stack of disciplinary forms they all knew too well.

First came sweet little Posey. She tried the innocent act—big eyes, biting her lip—but I wasn’t buying it. “Skirt up, panties down, over my knee,” I ordered, voice calm but unyielding. She hesitated only a second before obeying, draping herself across my lap. Her pale cheeks quivered as I smoothed my hand over them, then delivered the first firm smack. The sound echoed sharply. She gasped, then whimpered as I built a steady rhythm—left cheek, right cheek, harder each time. By the tenth spank her skin glowed pink and she was squirming, thighs pressing together in that telltale way. “You’ll think twice before playing with yourself on the clock again,” I murmured, giving one final, stinging swat that made her yelp.

Next was fiery redhead Delaney. She sauntered in like she owned the place, smirking—until I bent her over the desk instead of my knee. I yanked her thong aside and paddled her bare ass with crisp, measured strokes. Each crack of wood on flesh drew a sharp cry, then a low, needy moan. Her hips rocked back involuntarily after every hit, chasing the burn. When I paused to rub the hot, reddened skin, she whispered, “Harder, Miss Vivian… please.” I obliged until she was trembling, dripping onto the floor, promising to behave.

Then came petite Mya, already blushing before she even crossed the threshold. She didn’t fight when I pulled her over my lap. Her little bottom fit perfectly in my hand. I spanked slowly at first, letting each smack linger, watching the color bloom across her cheeks. She sobbed softly by the end—not from pain, but from the overwhelming mix of shame and arousal. I slipped my fingers between her thighs just once, confirming how soaked she was, then sent her back to her desk with strict instructions to sit on that sore bottom without squirming.

Last was Rhea, the quiet one who always followed the others into trouble. She trembled as I guided her across my knees. I took my time with her—long, deliberate spanks that built slowly until her entire ass was a deep, throbbing crimson. Tears streaked her cheeks, but when I finally slid my hand down to tease her swollen clit, she came almost instantly, bucking against my fingers with broken little cries.

When the last girl left—walking gingerly, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy—I leaned back in my chair, satisfied. The office was quiet again. The girls would behave for a while… at least until the next time temptation won out. And when it did, they knew exactly where to find me: right here, paddle in hand, ready to remind them who’s in charge.

Discipline delivered. Lesson learned. Until next shift.