Seeking the hunter

24Oct12

spanked bossPeter’s heart sank. What was all this crap? He reread the memo.

“All project notes to confirm to guidelines. All project notes to be signed off by your line-manager…”

He yawned. It was too much to even bother with. If he read to the end of the two dozen pages with the slightest regard for taking it all in, he would be drained for the morning and he could kiss the deadline goodbye. It was probably the new boss’s idea of arse covering. If he got the job done then no one would care. If he didn’t, well, it didn’t matter how many memos he read.

“What the…” he looked around. No swearing, it was company policy. “…flip,” he continued, “Are the guidelines for anyway.”

Well, he thought, most of his co-workers were women, it was a reasonable enough rule and besides, you never knew who was listening.

He eyed his in-tray. There was a thick red book that had arrived there last week. He hadn’t read it. It was sitting on top of a thick blue book that he had received six months before. He hadn’t read that one either. No one had noticed.

Then the phone rang and he answered it.

“Graeme,” he said through gritted teeth. What now?

“It’s your project notes…” the voice on the other end began.

Oh shit, Peter thought.

“Looking good,” Graeme said breezily. “I was half worried you would drown them in all this new procedure crap that is going around. A lot of damn arse covering if you ask me.”

“Yeah well, I don’t have time to read that dross, let alone rewrite a month’s work ticking boxes,” Peter snorted.

“Exactly,” Graeme agreed. “But one thing, I do need that line manager’s signature.”

“Oh,” Peter frowned. “I don’t usually…”

“My boss just wants to see it… you know…”

“Arse covering,” they both said in unison.

“Yeah I get it. Twelve years in the job and I still have to go through the motions with the whizz kids. I could use a head to head with super bitch to find out what she’s made of anyway,” Peter said smoothly.

Shit, he groaned as he put down the phone. I really need to crack on.

*

Jenifer Webber sat at her desk reading reports. Idiots, she thought, but then what did she expect. No one knew their jobs better than her, no wonder the senior management had brought her in. A new broom, that’s what this place needs. There were too many wasters in this place.

The project reports on her desk were all bland. All safely conforming to the guidelines she had devised to see what her new staff were made of. Hoop-jumpers, she thought bitterly, spineless jobsworths.

She got up and went to the window, all five feet two of her. At 28 she had already climbed so high. No easy thing for a beautiful woman, she preened as she took in her image reflected in the office window. Short and pretty, she mused, she had had to fight hard to get to the top. An ankle biter her last boss had called her. That was before she had taken his job. A cold smile broke her full pouting lips.

“Kill with a smile,” she purred.

“That’s a neat trick, you’ll have to show me sometime,” Peter said as he came through the door.

Actually he had been watching her for a moment before then. She filled out her expensive business suit rather well he thought; especially around the hips and bottom. Curves all in the right places, he mused, but she thrust them out as weapons, like the swords on Boudicca’s chariot. He knew the type; she would climb a mountain made of people’s careers just because they were there.

“Who let you in,” Jenifer whirled around angrily. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought your door was always open. ‘Think of me as just the leader of a team,’ wasn’t that you?” Peter said chattily.

“No, I hardly think so,” she replied icily.

“Oh wasn’t it? Oh well, that’s what your last three predecessors said,” Peter shrugged. “I thought all you highflyers read the same management books.”

“You’re Hunter, Peter Hunter,” Jenifer said darkly, still disconcerted that an employee would enter unannounced. That stupid girl must have left the door open.

“You know, I knew that,” Peter grinned, “But seriously, I thought I would introduce myself personally.”

Jenifer sized him up. He was maybe 10 years older than her. Far too old to still be at his grade. She knew the type. Good at his job, but hated management. He just coasted by flouting the rules and getting away with it because no one felt threatened by him.

Actually his flippant confident manner was the kind of thing she liked in a man she met in a bar. Pity he worked for her.

“By the way, if you could just sign off on this project report,” Peter said casually, “Stupid paperwork I know, but the production team are insisting on it.”

“That,” Jenifer accused, “Should have been on my desk first thing this morning.”

“Surely not,” Peter frowned, “Otherwise production wouldn’t already have it and the project would have been delayed.”

“I need to sign off on it,” Jenifer said pointedly as if addressing an idiot.

“Yes.” Peter said slightly impatiently, letting the word hang. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

Jenifer sighed and let her eyes close. Then she extended a hand like ancient queen summoning a minion, but he had already anticipated her unspoken request and had crossed the room to offer it to her.

After flicking through it too quickly to even read it she said, “Where is the rest of it?”

“It’s all there. Tech specs. Costs. Suggested personnel.” Peter didn’t meet her eyes and affected boredom.

“This does not meet the new guidelines,” Jenifer said angrily.

“Does it not?” Peter said innocently. “All the work was done before I got my copy of that lovely red book. Sorry.”

Jenifer fixed him with a glare. The trouble was she didn’t understand these kinds of documents. She was an ideas and overview person. That’s what the guidelines were for. So that reports got written in a way that she and her other senior colleagues could understand.

Peter returned a friendly smile.

“Look, if you want to go over this, I can come back. But believe me I have done lots of these projects, this is no biggie. It’s only that the profit margins are tight and any delay will have a negative knock on.” He shrugged and pointed to the report.

Jenifer worked her mouth. She wasn’t quite sure if he was treating her as a kid.

“The point is you should have run this by me first.” She decided on attack. “I want you take this away and rewrite it in line with the guidance notes I issued.”

Peter frowned.

“The project has been accepted by production. There is no need. Rewriting the report will take days,” Peter protested.

“No it won’t. You have two hours,” Jenifer threw back with a smirk. She felt for a moment that she was in a movie.

Peter sighed and shook his head.

“Okay, you are the boss. You write me a memo telling me to rewrite a perfectly good project report and taking full responsibility for the delay and I will knock together something from your guidelines in say… 48 hours. But I can suggest that you sign off on it and I will rewrite the damn thing afterwards. I mean I do get it; we both want to cover our arses.”

“You have two hours,” Jenifer said with a superior smile. “Or you’re fired.”

“I have worked with a lot of brats in my time and you are not even that special in that department. But I can’t rework that in less than two days and that is doing you a favour. Frankly it’s a week’s work. If you are going to fire me then do it now or get off my back.”

Jenifer blushed. The word brat always made her head fizz, especially when it was so at home on the lips of an older man.

“Don’t give me that crap,” she said, trying to sound confident. “Just get it done.”

“Giving you crap? Maybe I should just turn you over my knee,” Peter retorted.

Jenifer nearly fainted and quickly backed off so he couldn’t see what was written on her face. Is this what mother meant by hot flushes?

Peter cocked his head and tried to bluff it out, but the truth was he could not believe what he had just said. Maybe I can deny it if she makes a formal complaint. I think I just pissed away the moral high ground. However, he could hardly fail to notice her strange reaction. He even fancied he saw a hint of respect in her eyes.

Quit while you’re behind, he urged himself and made what he hoped was a dignified exit.

*

Peter decided to play it as if he done no more than make a joke. He doubted she make anything of it. The spanking crack was something that would go around the office like wildfire and undermine her authority. He winced. He couldn’t say that she didn’t have it coming; leadership was a skill not a perk and she was far too up herself to make a good manager. However, he knew he wouldn’t have said it if she had been a man and he suspect that she didn’t get where she was by sleeping her way to the top. He could kick himself. I hate fucking macho. Then remembering her attitude he thought, and that goes twice when it is offered up by a woman.

He sighed and picked up the phone. It was time for some damage limitation.

“Hey chief, its Pete,” he said easily.

“Hey Pete the Hun-ter, brill-E-ant job on the Syto project; I saw the report. Production is singing our praises,” John Temple, his division’s vice-president sang back at him.

Peter hated that phoney pop-talk almost as much as he hated jumped-up new managers.

“Oh yeah thanks, eh yeah… about that…” Peter began. “I screwed up on these guideline thingies. You know the ones that Jenifer has instituted.”

“Oh no worries, just for obedience of fools and all that, senior guys like you don’t need to get too hung up on it,” John said dismissively. “Between you and me, little miss perfect has a stick up her arse.”

“Sure, that’s what I thought, but hey, she’s just doing her job and well maybe it wouldn’t hurt to review our procedures, but the thing is… well Jenifer’s suggesting we might consider holding up production while I take a couple of days to review the report…”

“Oh screw it, let’s get the project underway. We can always review our procedures next month,” John dismissed it. “Hey, got to go. Catch you for a drink on Friday.”

*

Jenifer eyed the other reports on her desk that were awaiting her approval, Hunter’s conspicuously not among them. She was furious. Peter Hunter had openly ignored her and it seemed John Temple was not going to back her up.

“Sheep,” she spat, picking up one of the reports and then hurling it down angrily.

She was aware of the contradiction and that made her even more furious. Then she thought about Peter Hunter and his spanking threat. Damn the man. She shifted uneasily in her seat and stared petulantly at the phone on her desk. If only he was her boss instead of that fool Temple. Then the situation might actually get interesting.

Jenifer snatched up the phone and went to hit the short dial for Hunter’s desk. Then just as abruptly she slammed it back down. Bugger, she screamed inside. How to handle this? The phrase echoed through her head and moved silently on her lips.

There was nothing for it, she realised. If she let it go then Hunter would be a ‘loose cannon’ for ever more. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

“Hunter, get in here,” she snarled and then put the handset down again before he could reply.

Peter knew what this was about and had decided on a charm offensive. Pity I don’t have any charm, he thought ruefully.

“You rang milady,” he said cheerfully as he strolled into the office. Under his arm was his report, ready to be sighed.

Jenifer glowered at him.

“I went through the report as you suggested and found a couple of issues, so good job I did. I’ll have the follow up report in the requested format with you before the end of the week. I’m sorry, I really can’t do it any sooner. The good news is, upstairs is happy for it to go out as is and I emailed John to get him to confirm that in writing. He should have copied you in, so all arses covered.”

Peter hoped that would be enough for her to save face.

“I got the memo,” Jenifer said bitterly.

Peter put his report on her desk and offered her an uneasy smile.

“You’re all mouth and no trousers aren’t you Hunter,” she said and narrowed her eyes.

“I assure you, these are trousers,” he said evenly. “But fair comment, I’m a bit of a gob-shite sometimes.”

“Keep in with the boys, keep your head down in your cosy little cupboard of an office,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Oh, am I getting an office? That wraparound cubicle I have now is getting me down. A cupboard would be a step up. With or without a window,” he replied as if he didn’t know she was pissed off.

“You are a plodder,” she said angrily.

The friendly smile that Peter had put on before entering dropped from his face and he sighed and adjusted his easy stance to one more suited to a confrontation.

“What do you care?” He said, “I am the best project developer you have. So what if I have a life beyond my job. I get paid enough, management’s not my style. I don’t need the validation of others and their leadership seminars. I don’t need know-nothing stuck-up brats telling me my job.”

Peter let his anger show. Although he took care not to actually say that she was the brat. Not this time.

Jenifer flushed a little at the B-word; she loved this kind of conflict.

“You sexist patronising bastard,” she bit back. “You only have a job because I permit it.”

He smiled at her in disbelief.

“You want my job, you can have it. You want someone on the team who knows what they are doing. Then recognise me as an ally and not a competitor. But don’t start throwing your weight around. You don’t have any, figuratively or otherwise. You haven’t been here long enough. Leadership is not about giving out orders.” Peter knew he sounded too paternal and that she didn’t want his advice, but this was a make or break conversation. If he didn’t speak his mind now then she would assume he was undermining her behind his back. “Look, don’t be a short grass and act like you have to mow the lawn down to your level. Let it grow and then you can take the credit. Cut me some slack can’t you? If you think I am a dinosaur, take a look around. Half the top floor are waiting for you to fail.”

The short grass comment cut her and she knew he didn’t mean her height. He was offering her an olive branch of sorts, but she didn’t know how to take it. In her world someone was always in control. There was only strength and weakness.

Look we seem to have got off on the wrong foot. But I am responsible what goes on in this department and I do need to get all reports written according to the issued guidelines. Maybe you can advise me on how to go about achieving that. The words were at the forefront of her mind. Her business school tutor would have been proud. She knew she only had to say them and he would be putty in her hands. He would turn into the dull little man she feared he was. Then what would she be, a leader of little people; sheep, all of them.

So instead she spat, “How dare you denigrate my stature, professional or otherwise you… you little man.”

Then to punctuate the remark she slapped him hard across the face.

Peter didn’t react overmuch. He just cocked his head to one side and regarded her with a dismissive disdain. It hadn’t even hurt.

She was furious. Putting more weight into it, she slapped him again.

“I can see we are never going to be able to work together,” he said calmly. “And neither of us is going to want what transpires in this room to get out. So I am going to do you a favour and then I am going to return to my desk and write my resignation.”

“Baa,” she replied, emulating a sheep, “Baa.”

Peter snorted like nothing mattered and took a step towards her.

“Now I am going to put you over my knee and give you the spanking you so richly deserve. I only regret that under the circumstances, I can’t take your knickers down,” Peter said as he took her arm.

She swallowed and her head turned into a fairground balloon. It was going to happen; she was wild with the idea. It is actually going to happen.

She struggled a little as he picked her up and tucked her under one arm, but it was a futile gesture God he is so strong, she thought. In her dreams a man like him was ripe with throw-down and more of the rugby type. But as stocky as he was, Hunter was barely average height, not what she had imagined at all. Still, she couldn’t have been more light-headed if he had been George Clooney.

Sitting in the armless chair usually reserved for visitors, Peter deposited Jenifer across his lap and patted the large bubble of her skirt-stretching behind. Such a big bottom for a little girl, he thought. He risked an assault charge, but then so did she and he was banking on the fact that she would want to forget it afterwards so long as he was the one who went out the door.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said calmly. If that didn’t seal it then nothing would, she realised.

He struck her smartly across the bottom and barked, “Shut up.”

The sting took her breath away. This was like nothing she had imagined. There were no words and her mouth hung open in genuine surprise.

He spanked her again, placing the swat a little lower so that her curves rolled into the palm of his hand.

“Hunter,” she gasped, “Peter… I…”

Peter spanked down more sharply enjoying the resistance and firm resounding thwack of his hand.

“Look…” she said in a lost voice.

“Look, what?” Peter let his amusement show.

“I’ll go to the police, I’ll…” It was a threat to cover her pride.

“Then I have got nothing to lose now. So in for a penny… sheep for a lamb and all that,” he told her as he swatted her again,

“Stop now and I’ll…” she wailed, but let the words hang.

Peter stopped pussyfooting about now and let his arm fall with alarming regularity, spanking his boss in a long hard volley.

“Okay, okay,” she squealed, “I won’t tell, I’m sorry.”

“You are still getting your spanking,” he said firmly.

“Whoo,” she moaned through gritted teeth, but there was nothing for it now but to take it.

Peter spanked her until the strength had left his arm and throughout the punishment she showed every sign of feeling it. If she had been a lover he would have stroked her by now red bottom until he had rested and then continued for a while, but he judged that she had had enough.

As he let her up she grabbed at her behind and began dancing a little, hopping from one foot to the other and massaging her bottom. Her whole face was strawberry red and her demeanour somewhat meeker than before.

“You bastard,” she hissed as she hand-clamped and hopped about.

“What was that?” He growled and leaned forward menacingly.

“I didn’t mean it,” she said quickly, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s better,” he sighed. “Then if you will excuse me I have a resignation to write.”

“Peter about that…” she gabbled.

He turned back and frowned.

Jenifer looked at her feet and took a deep-breath. She was still blushing as the sting in her bottom still sucked her hands to it like magnets.

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” she mumbled, she was humble now. “But… well you see… we got off on the wrong foot. I don’t get all of this stuff you write… I need… need more background. But I’m still responsible. Maybe… maybe you can help?”

He nodded and then replied. “Maybe we did. I am sorry if I was a bit flippant. I’ll give you a minute and come back for that signature.”

She smirked and pulled a face. “Thanks.”

Dodged a bullet there old son, he realised with elation as he left.

“Oh… Peter,” Jenifer called after him. “Next time, don’t just talk about taking down my knickers, be decisive. Maybe we can get a drink after work to talk about it.”

The end.



5 Responses to “Seeking the hunter”

  1. 1 paul1510

    Damian,
    Loved this, I didn’t have many female bosses, but I can think of one or two who would have been improved by a good spanking, mind you they wouldn’t agree. 😀
    Paul.

  2. 2 darwinian

    Another great story with so much potential for a follow up, but that’s the trick isn’t it, keep us wanting. And you never fail. Hope to hear more about Jenifer, thanks.

  3. 3 Keribrat

    Very nice, sir!

  4. 4 Targetarear

    Great story. And what a bottom that lady has. And that tight skirt… Mmmmm.

  5. “She couldn’t have been more lightheaded if he had been George Clooney.” You really do understand your women readers, don’t you, DJ? 🙂


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