Page 17 of Mariah

“Approve of my selection?” he asked.

Mariah blushed. “It’s not my job to approve or disapprove, Sir. I was just… I’m not really a butt plug expert,” she admitted with a shrug.

Graham narrowed his eyes. “Have you ever had your bottom plugged? I should have asked you that before I went shopping. I’ve personally always found it to be a handy tool and a good reminder, but not everyone feels the same way.”

“I’ve been plugged once before, Sir.” Mariah hesitated before continuing. It felt strange to be having a frank discussion with her boss about butt plugs and her experience with them, but she supposed it was par for the course in a place like Utopia. “It was metal with a jewel.”

Chef Graham nodded. “Ah yes. I’m familiar. I’m more partial to silicone myself. A bit more give.” He paused and looked at her shrewdly, still holding the brush. “Have you changed your mind, Mariah?”

“No, Sir.”

“So you consent to accepting my correction, and keeping your job?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Very well. Stand up, turn around, and pull down your pants and panties.”

“Pull-up,” Mariah corrected without thinking, immediately regretting doing so. He would see what she had on. There was no point in announcing it. Idly she wondered if the fact that she was wearing a Pull-up diaper and not panties was a turn off for him and would make him think less of her. Then she remembered that it didn’t matter what he thought, or whether he was personally turned off. Chef Graham had made it very clear he had no interest in being a Daddy, even if Mariah thought he would make a good one.

“I beg your pardon?”

Her cheeks flamed with heat as she realized she’d have to repeat something she shouldn’t have said in the first place. “I wear a Pull-up diaper, sir. Not panties.”

“Ah. Well, no matter. My instructions remain the same. Please obey quickly.”

Jumping to her feet Mariah did exactly as she’d been told, baring her bottom to her sexy but aloof boss.

She was almost trembling with embarrassment but Graham remained steadfast. “Bend over and place your palms on the seat of the chair.”

Again, she quickly obeyed, finding it easier to focus on doing what she was told without thinking too much about it.

There was a pop behind her and Mariah recognized the sound as the cap on the bottle of lube. Next she heard scissors and the ripping of plastic. Then silence, and she could only assume Chef Graham was preparing the plug for her bottom. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and tried not to tear up. She wasn’t scared, but anxious. Her heart was racing, and she just wanted to get this first day over with so she would know what to expect.

“Mariah, I’m going to spread your bottom cheeks now and insert the plug. Say ‘yes, Sir’ to let me know you understand and consent.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her voice was a barely audible squeak to her own ears but Chef Graham must have heard her because the next thing she knew, his hands were on her bottom, pulling her cheeks apart and the tip of the plug, cold from the lube, was pressing against her tight hole.

“Relax your bottom,” he instructed. “You’re going to feel a little pressure. I’ll go slow, but I’m going to keep pushing until it’s all the way in.”

“Yes, Sir.” Mariah wished he would stop talking and just do. Somehow the step-by- step explanation made it just that much more mortifying.

He was finally quiet and the plug breached the barrier of her anus, filling her. He continued to push until it was all the way in, with the base of the plug nestled between her cheeks.

Her bottom twinged where it stretched her muscles and her pussy ached. What was wrong with her that being bent over a chair having her bottom plugged by her boss made her feel aroused and all mushy inside?

“Okay, Mariah. It’s time for your spanking. Do you want to tell me why you are getting spanked today?”

Her eyes flared open. She hadn’t been expecting that question and wasn’t sure how to answer. She felt like she was being spanked because she’d made an awful mistake, but Chef Graham had been very clear that this wasn’t a punishment. “I don’t… I don’t know what you want me to say, Sir.”

Behind her, Chef grunted. “You are getting a spanking to remind you to do your best, stay focused and alert and to never be careless in the kitchen. Serving food is a responsibility as much as it is a reward because so many people have allergies and sensitivities. One careless move and you can make someone very, very sick. You’re a good girl, Mariah, and I know you wouldn’t want to do that again. The spanking you will get will help you remember.”

Her tummy fluttered when he called her a good girl. “Yes, Sir.”

“Okay. I’m going to begin now. Stay in position please, or I’ll have to start over.”

“Yes, Sir.” Please just get started and get it over with, she thought. The longer she stayed there with her plugged bottom bared to him, waiting for the long, hard bare-bottom spanking he was sure to give, the harder it was to not think of him as a Daddy. He may not punish, but he sure acted and sounded like a Daddy. With every stern word, she felt like shrinking. Her bottom clenched, begging for his correction. Punishment or not, whatever she called it, she knew this spanking would help her feel absolved and relieve some of the lingering guilt she was feeling.

Crack! The hairbrush smacked her bottom with a loud cracking noise. Pain exploded, spreading through the tissue.