Part 1 - New York

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The elevator doors opened and the the other passenger stepped out leaving Erin and her boss alone in the car. They had spent the evening in the hotel bar with a group of colleagues and, almost without noticing, had found themselves as the last two still there, engrossed in each other's company as the barman gently hinted that he would like to go home.

Erin, the finance VP of the British subsidiary of a global company, was in New York for the company's quarterly meetings. Her boss, a normally reserved, serious American had dropped his guard this evening and shown Erin a much more social, even flirtatious side to his character.

As the doors closed, they found themselves standing close together, aware of the attraction that had been evident in the bar. Without warning, he leaned in and kissed her, softly but insistent. Her heart raced and her body responded. Their kiss deepened, and before she knew it, the elevator opened at his floor. With a hand gently on her back, he guided her silently into the hallway and to his room.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Erin pushed him against the wall, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as they kissed. She unbuckled his belt and slipped a hand into his pants, moving with urgency and desire. He grabbed her hair in one hand, pulling her head back as he kissed her neck, using his other hand to take her by the wrist. Turning her to face the wall and pushing his body against her back he whispered in her ear. "I had a feeling you could be trouble, Erin... Good trouble."

Guiding her across the room to a desk standing in front of a floor to ceiling window overlooking Bryant Park, he placed her hands on the polished wood surface and Erin instinctively leaned forward over it. "Do you know what happens to girls who get into trouble, Erin?" he asked, his voice soft. "I hope they get fucked..." she whispered, almost instructing him, "... hard."

He smiled and unzipped her skirt, sliding it over her hips and letting it drop to the floor. Erin stepped out of it and kicked it aside before spreading her feet wide apart. "Yes, Erin, that's exactly what they get," he said, " but first they have to show how obedient they can be. Take off your shirt."

She did as she was told, stretching her lean, toned form across the desk in just her bra, a pair of black fishnet tights and pointed patent stilettos. He slid a hand between her legs and she moaned, arching her back. He placed his other hand on the small of her back holding her gently in place. Shifting his hand from between her legs, he caressed and kneaded her buttocks as she writhed against the edge of the desk.

When the first spank landed, Erin gasped with surprise more than pain. It was sharp and stinging and her body jolted at the contact, but the overwhelming feeling was arousal. The next spank was harder, and then the next one. With each smack of his hand against her bare skin, she felt a wave of heat spread through her body, turning her on more than she could remember ever feeling.

Her boss's hand caressed and stroked as he spanked, and she moaned with pleasure. She couldn't believe how good this felt, how much she wanted to submit to him. He must have sensed her growing desire, because he increased the pace of the spanking and the force behind each strike. She arched her back again, offering her bottom, wanting more.

Finally, he took a step back and paused. Erin stood and turned around leaning against the desk, her body aching from the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain. "Please, Sir, fuck me," she begged, unfastening her bra and turning to bend back across the desk. He reached for the waist of her tights, but before he could pull them down she intervened. "No, rip them," she ordered, looking back over her shoulder. "Take them from me." He looked into her eyes, seeing the submission she offered him. With a smile of satisfaction, he tore her tights open, revealing her completely.

Erin moaned as he entered her, her body arched, her breasts brushing against the desk, her fingers holding tightly onto the table top as she fought for balance, ankles trembling in her heels. She met his thrusts with her own, moving her hips against him, desperate for more. The friction was exquisite, and with each movement she felt herself growing closer to orgasm. "Yes, fuck me," she gasped, her whole body tense as she pushed against him.

She could feel herself getting closer and closer, her body ready. When it came, her body shook with the force of her orgasm. Moments later her followed her and collapsed on top of her as they caught their breath.

He led her by the hand to the bed and lay down beside her. "That was definitely good trouble, Erin," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her. She smiled, still processing what had just happened. "It was..., I mean...," she breathed. "I've never experienced anything like that." He chuckled softly, tracing a finger down her cheek. "I had a feeling from your reaction that you'd never been spanked. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She felt a blush creep up her neck. "I did, Sir," she admitted, still unable to meet his eyes. "More than I would ever have imagined." He propped himself up on one elbow and leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips. "I think we'll try something a little more intense next time, Erin." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I have something specific in mind for you when we meet in London." Erin nodded, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation in her expression. "Yes, Sir. I'm looking forward to it." Whatever he had planned for her she knew she would enjoy it.

Arriving back at her home in London two days later, Erin found a package waiting for her. The return address was unmarked, but she sensed who it was from. Her heart raced as she opened it, revealing a long, thin pink box tied with a black bow. Inside was a sleek, black riding crop, the leather intricately braided around it's whippy core. She ran her fingers down to the loop of leather at the tip, imagining the sting it would deliver to her skin.

Also in the box, Erin found a formal, typed note on expensive stationery. She knew this was not a business letter. Instead, it was a list of instructions for their upcoming meeting. She skimmed through the document, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. The meeting in London would take things up a notch, and her instructions were clear.

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