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A story of anticipation

bent over desk in lingerie

Before you read this story, I must warn you that it will not contain any erotic moment, disciplinary spanking or any other climax. This story is all about the time before, the anticipation, the waiting, the dreaming, the fantasizing. It’s about readying yourself, getting in the right mindset. It’s a story for those that enjoy the delay of gratification almost as much as the act itself, for those who know the feeling of anticipation: that tingling sensation under your skin, that slight increase in your heartbeat, the dryness of your lips which need to get moisturized with a quick lick of the tongue.

This is the feeling with which Alana wakes up every Friday morning. The first noticeable impact of it occurs even before her alarm wakes her up. Even as she goes to bed the night before, she knows ‘tomorrow is the day’ and hardly any night that connects Thursdays to Fridays passes without her dreaming of what is to come. You could even say that all days from Saturday to Friday are but a countdown for this moment, but the feeling is never as strong as on that day itself. Strong in the morning, and only growing stronger as the day passes and the moment comes closer.
The moment is of course, her weekly performance review.

Every Friday Alana wakes up an hour earlier than usual because today she needs extra time to get ready. Yet even though her rest has been shortened, she wakes up more eager than usual.
‘Today is the day.’ Is the first thought that inevitable pops in her head. She feels excited yet nervous at the same time. She knows there is nothing she can do about it. The time will come when her backside gets exposed and her bottom turned sore and red. That time is already approaching, slowly but surely. All she can do is get ready.
Alana believes that to be prepared, it is of the utmost importance that she is perfectly fresh and clean and meticulously dressed for the occasion. Not just for her boss – who will be performing her review – but for herself as well. She wants everything to feel right for the occasion.
Like every Friday morning, Alana starts her day with a shower. She shampoos her hair, shaves her legs and thoroughly washes every inch of her body. While she usually only has to bare her bottom for her weekly discipline, it wouldn’t be the first time either that her boss has her undress completely for her performance review.
As the hot water streams down her body, Alana thinks of her previous experiences. She imagines her boss’ eyes on her body with nothing to hide. The thought turns her on greatly and the desire to touch herself is almost too great to resist. Yet she is able to keep her hands to herself, and not stroke the hot, burning desire between her legs. She enjoys delaying that gratification until after her punishment. Part of her knows how aroused she will be then, and saving up her excitement now will surely build up the juices that will be flowing when she is bent over for her boss to see, when her pussy is wet and overflowing.
When the arousal becomes too much to bear, Alana quickly turns off the water and grabs her towel to dry off. The towels fabric is at the same time rough and soft and on Fridays it always reminds her of her boss’ hands, caressing her delicate skin. Those hands have never done more than just spank her, but Alana has often fantasized that they might, especially when the towel passes between her legs to soak up the last bit of hot water.
Back in her bedroom, Alana has laid out several pairs of lingerie she could wear. She decides eventually on a pair of black lace panties that barely cover an inch of her bottom. The coverage doesn’t really matter, for her boss has never allowed any layer of protection for her backside. She also believes black to be his favorite color when it comes to her underwear, not that he’d ever said so, but it is the color that has received the most compliments on any given Friday.
As she puts on the matching lace bra, Alana admires herself in her bedroom mirror. The bra leaves the top her breasts bare and the lace cups are mostly see-through. She hopes that she gets to show it off today.
When she bends over on her bed to see what her bottom will look like when she bends over her boss’ desk, that tingling sensation of anticipation builds in Alana’s bottom and her breathing deepens. Yet something is missing, something to show off her bottom even better.
She quickly decides on some dark, thigh-high stockings and a black garter-belt to keep them up. She readjusts her panties to fit over the straps so that they’re easier to come down and reevaluates the look in the mirror. The result frames her bottom perfectly and will certainly encourage her boss to do more than just raise her skirt for this weeks performance review.
With the idea in her head that she wishes to receive this Friday’s punishment dressed in as few clothes as possible, Alana chooses a short and dark pencil-tight skirt to wear over her stockings. The kind that is easier to pull down by pulling the zipper above her bottom, than it is to pull it up to bare her behind.
To complete her outfit, Alana picks out a white button-down blouse with fabric fine enough to hint at the black lingerie underneath, to further encourage its removal. The buttons down the front serve two possibilities: a slow, sensual unbuttoning by herself, or better yet, the possibility of her boss’ strong, firm hands between her breasts to bare her chest.
In the end, Alana also adds a dark jacket to go on top of the blouse. She will leave this at her desk when it is time for her performance review, but there is no need to reveal the sheerness of her blouse to her other colleagues during the day.
When she looks in the mirror to admire her outfit, Alana’s breathing has grown rapid and her mouth has gone dry. She licks her lips, imagining how her boss will order her to take it all off. It will be many hours still until he does, her performance review is not scheduled until after working hours and the anticipation is already almost too much to bear.

Back in the bathroom, Alana continues her preparations by styling her hair. She tries many possibilities: a bun, both neat and messy to keep her hair out of the way, a ponytail for her boss to pull on or perhaps a neat braid that would look professional, or maybe two braids, no that’s too on the nose. She decides eventually on just keeping her hair loose. Which has both the advantage that her boss can still pull on it when needed and will result in a satisfyingly messy hairdo that would betray that her after-work meeting with the boss was not an ordinary meeting at all.
As she blushes in the bathroom mirror, imagining her boss’ hand at the back of her neck, pulling on her hair while he teaches her a lesson, Alana reminds herself that she won’t need too much make-up. Her frequent blushing will add enough color to her face. All she needs is some lipstick and some eye-shadow and mascara, preferably one that runs; it’s not that she cries during her performance reviews, but when the pain is strong enough, she can squeeze out at least one little tear and the resulting messy look around her eyes is just too hot to ignore.

Little over an hour has passed since her alarm woke her when Alana is ready to leave for work. The last addition to her outfit are her high heels, sexy, chic and they elongate her legs and raise her bottom nicely when she needs to bend over.
The anticipation has grown to a storm of butterflies in her stomach now that she is about to leave the house and it has made it impossible for her to have breakfast.
Usually, Alana drives to work in her car, but on Fridays, she feels too distracted, too unfocused for a safe ride. So she takes the bus. This does mean of course, that when returning home that night, that messy hair and runny mascara she has chosen will reveal some of her distress to the other passengers; but it also has the advantage that you don’t need to sit down when taking the bus, something that she finds quite uncomfortable most Friday evenings.
As she looks around, she wonders how many of the other passengers notice her outfit. Are there any regulars perhaps that take the bus every day but only see her get on on the last day of the week? Do they already know that while she’s sitting now, that she won’t be when she gets back on later today? Alana often wonders about how much strangers really know just by looking at you. Probably less than she is imagining, but the thoughts are making her heart race.

Those thoughts continue when Alana arrives at work. How many of her colleagues have noticed that she dresses extra nicely on Fridays only? They all share an open-plan office with all desks close to each-other. Only their boss has the privilege of a private office. The office where he will be reviewing her work and behavior of the past week today.
When she sits down at her desk, Alana finally breathes a little easier. She has prepared as best as she can. Now all she can do is wait. There are still many hours to go until the end of the day.
Still, it is hard for her to focus on her work, even this early her eyes often swivel to the clock on the wall. Time seems to be going slowly.
Alana’s heart-beat suddenly increases again when her boss joins them in the shared office space. He’s wearing a tailor-fit suit that makes Alana bite her lips before realizing what she’s doing. It’s not even for her, he always dresses this nicely.
After talking to some of her colleagues, he finally stops at her desk. “You look a bit pale Alana, have you eaten today?”
“No, Sir.” Alana replies with a blush.
Her boss then places a box on her desk, still half-full of donuts. “Have some.” He says. “You’ll need to keep your strength up today.”
Alana blushes deeply, but takes one of the offered treats. He knows, she thinks, he knows how nervous and excited she is for this evening. He never brings her snacks like this, only on Fridays, because he knows she will have skipped breakfast because of what he’s going to do to her.
Eating at her desk does calm her down a little and Alana is able to ignore the tingling sensation under her skin, the glowing sensation in her bottom that makes it near impossible to sit still, the warmth between her legs that makes her keep them firmly crossed.

When lunch time comes, Alana joins her colleagues when they go out to eat. They talk about their plans for the evening, but Alana keeps quiet. She can’t tell them about her upcoming performance review, about her boss’ plan of disciplining her with a firm, bare bottom spanking. And neither can she tell them about the rest of her evening, when she returns home, pent up with arousal, how she will pleasure herself to relief her of that excitement that’s been building all day and culminated across her boss’ desk.
She must seem distracted to them, thoughts elsewhere when she is unable to answer when asked a question, constantly blushing even.
Back at her desk, the anticipation is unable to be denied. Half the day has passed already, the moment is coming ever closer and Alana can barely get any work done.
When her boss suddenly appears behind her, placing his hand firmly on the desk beside her keyboard, Alana visible flinches. Her daydreaming had prevented her from seeing him coming.
“Are those reports almost ready, Alana?” He asks, his voice coming from right beside her ear as he stands closely behind her.
Alana bites her lip, her eyes focused on her boss’ hand. It’s a large, manly hand, with dark, veined skin and immaculately clean nails. It’s the hand that will be all over her backside later today.
“Sorry, what?” She replies when she suddenly realizes he’s asked her a question.
“The report, young lady.” He repeats.
Alana blushes. He only ever calls her that during her reviews. Hearing him use those words now means he knows which kind of thoughts have her so distracted.
“I’m almost done, Sir. I will email them as soon as I’m ready.” Alana replies.
“Very well.” Her boss says, he steps back from her chair and leaves her alone at her desk.
Alana lets out a deep breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She feels like he’d almost bent her over her own desk right then and there. Today’s performance review is going to be intense, she can tell that her boss is looking forward to it as much as she is.

The last hours of the afternoon go both slow and fast. Every time Alana looks up from her desk, she is shaking off the pictures in her head: vivid imagery of herself bent over her boss’ desk, bottom high in the air, buttocks bared as her skirt lays in a pool around her ankles, her boss’ hand caressing her stockinged legs… Yet no time seems to have passed when she looks at the clock. Her heart is beating faster and faster, her breathing is short and rapid. She is not sure she’ll make it if the waiting takes much longer.
And then suddenly all that time has passed. The first few of her colleagues get up and leave. Slowly the shared office empties out. The time has come. Alana goes from excited to nervous. She now wishes for time to go slowly again, before too long her backside will be paddled red and sore. She fidgets in her chair, her bottom already trying to dodge the imaginary swats of a hand that will soon be coming for her. But she can’t stop the passage of time. Ever since her alarm went of this Friday morning, she’d been moving closer and closer to this moment.
The last of her colleagues gets up to leave. “Working late?” He asks.
Alana blushes. “Yeah, just getting ready for the weekend.”
“Don’t work too hard.” He says as he leaves the office.
Alana licks her lips. Wondering for a moment whether any of her colleagues realizes she is always the last to leave on Friday. Though if they do, they probably just think she wants to leave no loose ends before the weekend.
Then she realizes she is all alone in the office.
Her boss is waiting for her.

Alana gets up from her chair. Still nervous, now that the time has come, but with a sense of excitement mixed in. Arousal too, for that in a way is her main motivation for participating in these weekly performance reviews. None of her other colleagues have to deal with such a thing. Once or twice a year for them perhaps and they definitely did not contain the same activities.
It’s been about three months now. Alana reminds herself as she takes off the jacket she’d worn purely for her colleagues. A quick check assures her that the bright office lights do indeed allow a shimmer of her black bra to shine through the sheer white fabric of her blouse. Three months since she’d agreed to these weekly performance reviews, after-work meetings that dealt mostly with putting her across her boss’ desk and having her bottom spanked until it was bright red and sore.
How it had come to this and why she had so eagerly agreed to it was another story. Right now she can only think of tonight. It is just a short walk down the hall to her boss’ office.
When she arrives, closing the door behind her, the moment is almost there, that first contact of her boss’ hand on her behind. But not quite yet, just a bit of anticipation is left, yet these last short moments are the toughest to bear of them all.
Alana’s heart is pounding, her lips are dry, her knees feel weak, legs trembling even.
“Alana.” Her boss says with a smile as she enters.
She takes a deep breath.
“I’m so glad you could come. It is time for your weekly performance review, I believe.”
Alana licks her lips, yet they still feel dry after. “Yes, Sir.” She replies.
“You know what this means of course. I’ve said it a dozen times before.” Her boss says. “No-one is perfect, there is always room for improvement, so your review this week will come with some discipline. Just the right amount for a naughty young lady such as yourself.”
Alana nods and bites her lip. Arousal is beginning to win the fight between nervousness, excitement and itself. Even after all these months she can hardly believe she is letting him do these things to her, but every week, she is wet with excitement from taking part in this fantasy.
“I have quite a few things to discuss with you this week.” Her boss continues. “I’m afraid there will be some harsh lessons for you to learn today.”
Alana folds her hands in front of her, nervousness suddenly reappearing, gnawing at her stomach. When he uses words like that, it usually means her boss is going to take off his belt and use it on her poor behind. She truly is going to be sore when he sends her home tonight. Yet even the belt is something she looks forward to on days like this.
“I understand, Sir.” Alana replies.
Her boss nods. “Now, you know I prefer to combine these lessons and your punishment into one. There’s no need for me to scold you first and spank you after, when I can be doing both at the same time, driving home each message with a firm swing of my arm.”
Alana nods. “Yes, Sir.” In fact, she greatly enjoys his use of strong words and strict language, underlined with firm, stinging swats on her backside. It gives the whole situation a sense of authenticity. They both know that these weekly performance reviews are just a ruse, an excuse – not just for her boss, but for the both of them – to partake in this particular fantasy they share. Planning them weekly, letting her boss scold her on her work and workplace behavior makes it feel more like a real disciplinary action and not just a sexual activity. Though Alana sometimes does wish her boss would take advantage of the situation just a bit more.
She now stands with her back to the door, heart still pounding, waiting for the boss to order her to get in position.
“I think for this week, I want you to take off all your clothes.” Her boss says. “Perhaps with no clothes to hide behind, these lessons will finally get through to you.”
Alana gasps. This is what she had hoped for, well, more than she had hoped for. It is not the first time her boss commanded her to strip completely naked, but it is only the second. Nervous, but even more aroused, she begins to undress.
She begins with unbuttoning her dress, slowly, not too sensual, but not workplace appropriate either; not that there is a way to appropriately bare your breasts for your boss. His eyes are firmly on her, especially when her see-through bra is revealed.
When Alana undoes the zipper at the back of her skirt and lets it drop to her feet, revealing the lingerie, stockings and garter-belt underneath, her boss whistles softly under his breath. “Damn, I almost wish I’d told you to keep all that on.”
Alana pauses for a moment. “I can keep it on if you want, Sir.” She replies.
“Yes, I think you should.” He replies. “It’s obvious you spent a lot of time picking the right outfit for today, it would be a shame for me to strip it all down at once.”
Alana blushes, but he spoke the truth, she had chosen this whole outfit for just this specific moment, to please her boss during this performance review.
“Now, come to my desk, and bend over young lady.” Her boss commands.
Alana’s heart jumps to her throat. The anticipation is about to reach its climax. She quickly moves to her boss’ desk, and bends over, letting her lingerie frame her bottom as a perfect target for her boss’ hand. She closes her eyes, letting her excitement and nervousness built up until it nearly drowns her.
She can feel it then, that strong, firm hand caressing her leg as it slides up her stockings – her heartbeat increases – then onto the soft flesh of her thighs and finally the pale, trembling flesh of her bottom – she holds her breath, her heart is now racing – her boss then raises his hand, and…
The anticipation comes to an end.

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