Mr. Styles (H.S.) [COMPLETE]

Eleven

Katherine didn't know whether she should actually follow or just run. What was he about to do to her? When she finally emerged from the expansive closet after setting the laundry basket on the armoire, Mr. Styles was standing in front of his bed, staring at her, waiting for her.

"Come here, Miss Mason," he said firmly and she knew not to argue. Her feet carried her quickly toward him, without hesitation.

"Good," he said, eyeballing her up and down her body.

She stood in front of him, her hands at her sides, her feet nervously shifting. She felt more naked than she ever did with him – and that was saying something, since she actually had been naked with him twice now. This was a different kind of naked. This was a vulnerable naked – the worst kind. She had no idea what he was going to do. She had no idea what he was thinking. She couldn't even guess, because she knew she'd be immediately wrong.

"Your clothes, Miss Mason, take them off," he said firmly, still watching her like a hawk.

"I'm sorry?" She questioned, confusion spreading through her like a wildfire.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes," he said, enunciating each word so they emanated off of his tongue with animosity.

Was this some sort of revenge scenario where he'd get even with her by destroying her clothes? Somehow, she was certain it was not. She knew him well enough to know he didn't play games. Not petty ones at least.

Katherine took a deep breath as her eyes fell away from his. He stood patiently waiting for her to finally obey him. She wasn't sure if she should. He wanted to punish her after all. What kind of punishment required the loss of clothing for such a minor indiscretion? Surely this was entirely inappropriate in every sense of the word.

But she found her curiosity won out over her fear and she was slowly peeling away the fabric from her body until she was standing in front of him completely naked, her clothes lying in a heap next to her.

His eyes never left her. They scoured every inch of her, but never left her for a second. When his vision came back up to look her in the eyes, her breathing hitched in her throat.

"Have you ever been spanked, Miss Mason?" He asked, his voice stern and serious.

Spanked? If she didn't already know he was serious, she would have questioned it. Spanked? She was trying hard not to question his sanity. She was a grown woman. She did not get spanked.

"Well?" He urged, his hardened expression never easing up.

"No, sir. I have not," she said through gritted teeth.

"You have ruined not just one expensive article of clothing, Miss Mason, but two now. I think a punishment is in order and I want nothing more than to spank you," he said seriously. She took in a deep breath, furrowing her brow.

"Don't you think the punishment should fit the crime?" She spat out, feeling almost degraded that this would be the way he chose to punish her. He was her boss, her employer after all.

"I don't suppose you would enjoy working for days on end for free to repay the thousands of dollars in damage you have inflicted on my clothing, Miss Mason," he hissed, narrowing his eyes at her.

Katherine took another deep breath, thinking about how incredibly fucked-up this all was – and that she was actually thinking about taking the spankings as opposed to option B.

"Well?" Mr. Styles pressed again.

Her eyes narrowed at him as she felt the humiliation already settling inside of her. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of winning, but fuck – as hard as it was to give into, her whole entire body was screaming for it, for him.

This was wildly inappropriate, to which she could probably sue the well-tailored, expensive-as-fuck pants off of him for sexual harassment – him being her boss and all. But she knew she wouldn't – she knew she wanted him too badly to ever go down that road.

Katherine bit her bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before she stepped toward him, their eyes meeting. His facial expression never changed, but she noticed a change in his eyes – he was intrigued and almost delighted over her decision to take his punishment as he saw fit.

"Good girl," he breathed, the tip of his tongue pressing against the bottoms of his upper front teeth as he watched her.

"How many?" She asked with a slight growl, swallowing her pride.

"Ten. Five for each destroyed article," he said evenly, having obviously come to this conclusion way before she even asked.

Katherine took a deep breath and let it out hard, not quite sure about what she just got herself into. His eyes narrowed tentatively, speaking the inevitable question of 'well?' for his lips.

"Fine," she snarled, finally letting herself give in to it completely.

Mr. Styles nodded once as he sat down on the bed, tugging her arm so hard, it caused her to tumble down, her abdomen laying across his lap. She let out a shriek as he did and kind of floundered around for a moment before he stilled her with his firm hands. It was absolutely humiliating.

"Don't think of this as just a punishment, Miss Mason. Think of it as an awakening," Mr. Styles said as his hand softly skimmed over the supple flesh of her behind. She cringed slightly, thinking about how, in just moments, he would be spanking it.

She didn't know how hard or soft he was going to hit her. She didn't know how she was going to handle something of that nature. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she reminded herself that people did this all the time – and enjoyed it. It was a sexual act. She was aware of that. But she wasn't sure if she was one of those kinds of people who enjoyed something like that. A masochist? A sadist? A sadomasochist? She didn't even know which one it was. She was clueless about things like that, having only experienced her sex the conventional way.

An awakening? Maybe she needed to look at it like that.