THE ORANGE MEMO
by Alex B.
Stacey Bates was a secretary with a secret.
This secret involved her desk which was
originally placed next to a window on the
sixteenth floor of the Brooks Building.
One day, she had it moved to the other side
of the room. She told her co-workers that she
did this because the view made her dizzy.
But that wasn't the reason. She preferred her
desk there because all she had to do was lean
over and put an ear to the wall in order to
hear everything that was happening in the
office occupied by her boss, Spencer Hayden.
She listened in while company meetings were
taking place, during private conferences
and whenever he was on the phone. She wasn't
trying to find out anything she didn't
already know, she just liked the sound of
Mr. Hayden's firm, authoritative voice.
The lovely Miss Bates had what might be called
a schoolgirl crush on the handsome Mr. Hayden.
She often daydreamed about how his lips mightaste, what he looked like in his pajamas and
where they would spend their honeymoon.
Mr. Hayden, however, showed very few signs of
interest in Miss Bates.
Of course, there was that one time.
A month earlier, Stacie had attended a Christmas
party at the home of the company's owner.
Spencer had been tapped to play Santa Claus
at the event. Midway through the evening, he
entered to much applause through the front door.
Dressed in a heavily padded red suit and
sporting a polyester beard, Spencer hauled
his sack of gifts into the den where a large
easy chair had been placed next to the tree
especially for him.
Stacey stood near the fireplace, sipping
rum-laced eggnogs as she watched her fellow
employees line up to tell Santa what they
wanted for Christmas. Forty minutes and
three drinks later, there was no one left
in line. Stacey realized that, if she was
going to do something, she'd have to do
it right then. So she tossed back one last
gulp of nog and headed directly for the
jolly old elf. Without ceremony, she plopped
herself onto Santa's lap, wrapped her arms
around his shoulders and planted a sloppy
wet kiss on his cheek.
"Ho ho ho!" Spencer laughed, a bit overcome by
Stacey's eagerness. "Merry Christmas! Now tell
Santa, have you been a good little girl?"
The young lady pouted a little and leaned over
to whisper into Spencer's ear.
"No, Santa. I haven't been a good girl at all.
In fact, I've been very bad." As she spoke,
Stacey toyed with a button on Santa's jacket
while her other hand slipped behind his neck and
flicked at the string that held his beard on.
"You see, I've been having these naughty thoughts
about my boss. All day I think about him calling
me into his office and ordering me to bend over
across his desk. When I hesitate, he slaps
my bottom... really hard! So I bend over.
He lifts my dress up and pulls my panties down.
Then he slaps my ass again, this time even harder.
It's stings likes crazy and it's so humiliating,
but for some reason I don't want him to stop.
He smacks my ass cheeks again and again,
harder and harder until I think I can't take
any more. Then he steps back and starts to
undo his belt."
Spencer cleared his throat and tried to
pretend that Stacey's whisperings weren't
quite so intriguing.
"I see... so you want a DVD player. Well, that's
sounds nice..."
"I know I've been a very, very bad, Santa."
Stacey quietly continued. "I'll bet I only get
a lump of coal in my stocking this Christmas.
In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you turned
me across your lap and gave me a good spanking
in front of all these people."
Spencer was stunned. Having no idea what to say,
he simply continued staring into Stacey's eyes.
Before he could reply, someone in the next room
announced that it was time to play charades.
As the guests began filing out of the den,
Stacey hopped off Spencer's lap and gave his
other cheek a kiss.
"Too bad." she said. "It would have been fun."
Spencer's eyes were glued to Stacey's bottom
swaying beneath her skirt as she walked away.
Stacey stopped and turned around.
"Are you coming, Santa?"
"Just about to." Spencer called out as he
attempted to adjust his fuzzy red trousers.
"I think first old Saint Nick needs to splash a
little cold water on his face. Go on without me."
Stacey went into the next room and watched the
others play party games. All the while, she
waited patiently for her boss near a doorway
that was decorated with a sprig of mistletoe.
But he never showed up. When the party ended,
Stacey could only assume that she'd embarrassed
Spencer and that he had simply bolted.
In the weeks that followed, it seemed to
Stacey that Mr. Hayden was going out of his
way to avoid her. He barely acknowledged her
presence as he entered and exited her office
and almost never called her into his. It had
become difficult for her to speak with him
as well. Stacey began to suspect that her
stunt at the Christmas party had created a
permanent state of awkwardness between them.
One day, the last day of January, Stacey found
herself once again with her ear to the wall
outside Spencer's office. He'd been tapping
away on his keyboard for nearly half an hour.
This was unusual because Spencer normally
preferred to dictate letters and rarely
used his own computer. As she listened in,
she noticed several long pauses before he
began typing again. Eventually the typing
stopped all together.
Spencer suddenly bolted out of his office.
"I'm going out to lunch." he said.
"Oh. Okay." Stacey replied as she watched
him disappear around the corner. She was
mystified by his behavior. He hadn't even
looked at her as he passed. Stranger still,
he seemed quite flustered. "Was he blushing?"
she thought.
Stacey glanced over at the door to Mr. Hayden's
office, then stood and walked over to it.
She turned the knob, opened the door slightly
and poked her head inside. There was nothing
unusual to be seen in there- just an empty office.
As she began to close the door, Stacey noticed
what appeared to be a memo crumpled up in
the wastebasket. Spurred on by curiosity,
she walked in, bent down and plucked the piece
of paper from the trash. She unfolded and
pressed it flat against the top of the desk
as she read from it.
To Stacey Bates: 11:45 a.m.
I've been imagining the two of us in my large
leather office chair. You're sitting in my lap
with an orange in your hands. I take it and
carefully pull the peel away. We rock back and
forth kissing and feeding sections of fruit to
each other. As I lick a few errant drops of
juice from between your breasts, I decide that
the hardening pink buds beneath your brassiere
could do with a good tongue lashing. You agree
and in a moment your blouse and bra are mere
memories. I dip you forward, your silken tresses
nearly brushing the floor as I flick your swollen
nipples with the slick tip of my attentive tongue,
roughly sucking and gently biting them between
licks and kisses. Then, without warning, I lift
you up and bend you over my left leg. I announce
that I'm well aware of your eavesdropping, that
I know you spend much of your workday with your
hot little ear pressed to the wall, listening in
on my private business. My hand is underneath
your skirt yanking your panties down before you
can catch your breath. A cool gust of air across
your bottom as your skirt flies up is followed by
a sharp hot slap. I spank you soundly until you
begin sobbing, until your legs involuntarily kick
with each swat, until your pale round cheeks
are pink and throbbing. Afterward, I hold you
in place, patting and massaging your tender,
stinging ass. Eventually, you stand up only
to turn and drape yourself across my desk.
Looking over your shoulder at me, you brush
a tear from your face and smile hungrily.
You rise up on the balls of your feet. I watch
mesmerized as your hips begin to sway this way
and that. Charmed by this invitation, I stand
and start to unbuckle my belt.
That's where the memo ended.
When Spencer returned from his lunch break, he was
surprised to see that Stacey was not at her desk.
He entered his office and found the note he'd
thrown away earlier, flattened out and placed
in the middle of his desktop. On the bottom
of it, beneath his words, was a note in what he
immediately recognized as Stacey's handwriting.
To Spencer Hayden: 1:05 p.m.
I'm not sure where this memo was going, but I
can't wait to find out! I'll be back in a
few minutes. I've gone down to the market
to buy an orange.
Thanks Alex!
Emily
Awesome story Alex. Thank you Emily for sharing it with us.
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