Office B*tch 4 - The Ritual

Alex's legs trembled as he stood there, fully exposed, his erection a traitorous flag of confusion in the sterile glow of the office lights. The bosses lounged in their chairs, a wall of composed suits and knowing smirks, their distance making every second stretch into eternity. He wanted to bolt, to grab his clothes and run, but the weight of their expectations pinned him in place. His mind raced—why wasn't this over? Why was his body still responding like this?

Elliot leaned forward slightly, breaking the silence. "You're learning, but not fast enough. Bend over, Alex. Hands on your knees, ass facing us. It's time you punished yourself for those mistakes."

Alex's stomach twisted. "What? No, I—"

"Now," Theo cut in, voice sharp but casual, like correcting a minor error in a report. No one moved to enforce it; they didn't have to. The command hung there, heavy.

With a shaky exhale, Alex bent forward, palms pressing into his knees, his back arching slightly as he presented his ass to the room. The position made his cheeks part just enough, the cool air teasing skin that felt far too sensitive. His cock dangled below, still hard, bobbing with each uneven breath. He hated how exposed he felt, how his body seemed eager despite the knot of denial in his chest.

"Start spanking," Marcus said. "Alternate cheeks. Count them out. And for each one, link it to one of your fuck-ups. Make it degrading. Or we start over."

Alex hesitated, his right hand lifting reluctantly. The first slap landed on his left cheek—light, tentative, the sound a soft crack in the quiet room.

"One," he muttered. "For... for the misentered trade. Because I'm... sloppy."

The sting was mild, but it sent an unwelcome jolt straight to his groin, his shaft twitching. What the hell?

"Harder," Caleb prompted. "And spread your legs wider. Give yourself better access."

Alex shifted his feet apart, the move opening him up more, his balls swaying. His hand came down again, firmer this time, on the right cheek. The smack echoed louder.

"Two. For forgetting the compliance check. I'm... careless, like a idiot who can't handle basics."

The burn spread, warmth blooming across his skin, and—fuck—his erection throbbed harder, a fresh bead of precum dripping to the floor. Confusion flooded him; this hurt, so why was it making him ache like that? He didn't want the mix of pain and... whatever this was.

Julian's voice was calm. "Increasing force. Describe the skin after each one. How it's reddening. How it feels."

Alex's next slap landed with more weight, left cheek again. The impact made his ass jiggle slightly, the heat building.

"Three. For the decimal slip. Pathetic... cost money because I'm arrogant, thinking I'm above checking."

He glanced back involuntarily, but couldn't see—only feel the flush creeping in. "It's... getting red. Stinging a bit. Warm."

But the warmth wasn't just there; it radiated forward, his cock pulsing in rhythm with the throb. "I don't... this shouldn't—"

"Keep going," Elliot said, unmoved. "Wider stance. Really feel it."

Alex spread further, thighs straining, everything on display. His hand swung harder now, right cheek.

"Four. For skimming the trades. Greedy... thief, deserving this."

The crack was sharp, the pain sharper, mingling with a twisted spark that made his hips twitch forward involuntarily. "Redder now. Burning. But my... my dick's reacting. Throbbing more. I hate it, it's confusing—why's it feel... not all bad?"

The admission slipped out, stammered, his voice cracking. He didn't mean to say that, didn't want to acknowledge the way the sting blurred into something hotter, making him leak steadily.

Theo chuckled softly. "Because you're wired wrong, apparently. Harder. Link the next to a flaw—not just the mistake."

Left cheek, the slap resounding, force building as ordered.

"Five. For being vain... gym body but no brains, stealing to feed ego."

The skin prickled, hot and tender. "It's red, like... embarrassed. Stings deep, but it's making me... pulse. I don't get it, shouldn't hurt and feel... good? No, not good—wrong."

His erection strained now, veins prominent, the confusion swirling into a haze. Each strike amplified it, pain twisting into unwelcome pleasure, his body betraying him louder with every count.

"Continue," Elliot commanded. "Don't stop until we say. Spread even wider—show us that red ass properly."

Alex obeyed, legs quivering, slaps alternating, counts climbing, each one dragging more reluctant words from him—degrading himself, describing the reddening cheeks, the conflicting throbs—his resistance crumbling under the ritual's weight.