Typing Errors

An image of an old typewriter to go with my story about typing errors and the punishment that followed.

It’s almost five years ago that I shared this story – Typing Errors – for the first time, for the meme ‘Friday Flash’, which is no longer running. Reading through it, I think my inspiration for this story might just have come from The Secretary.


Typing Errors

Her beautifully manicured nails clicked on the keys of the old typewriter. Her head turned from the handwritten page next to the typewriter, to the letters appearing when she pressed them down.

He, her boss, had written the words she, his secretary, now typed. When she took the piece of paper from him only minutes ago, he had smiled. At the top of the page it said: use typewriter. That made his intentions clear. She had nodded, closed the door to the hallway, and locked it. Sitting down at her desk, she had replaced the keyboard of her computer with the typewriter from the file cabinet behind her.

Straightening her back, she had started typing.

Click. Click. Click-click-click.

His frame filled the door’s. She didn’t stop.

Click-click-click. Click. Click.

He now stood behind her., his labored breathing right next to her ear. Her cleavage invited him, like it always did. His hands cupped her breasts and squeezed. She continued typing, not acknowledging the pain. His hands moved inside her top, pulling her breasts from their confinement and exposing them to the sterile office. Her nipples were hard; her crotch wet between her spread legs.

Click. Click. Click-click-click.

He rolled and pinched her nipples. Soft at first, but harder still. She kept on typing, but the rhythm changed. The harder he pinched, the more irregular the clicking became. The tension between her legs built; the chair below her now damp. Occasionally a moan escaped her, mouth, but her fingers still pushed down on the keys.

Click… click-click. Click… click.

Spreading her legs wider, she tightened her thigh muscles. The wrong type bar touched the paper, the word she typed now incorrectly spelled. A mean twist of her nipple elicited a loud moan, and she grabbed his hand.

“Type!”

He accompanied that one word with a slap of his hand against hers. His torturous fingers continued the onslaught on her tender flesh. Her legs parted more, as far as the chair would allow. She clenched her muscles; almost there.

Click… click… … … click-click… cli…

An orgasm washed through her loins. Her fingers hovered above the keys, her swollen flesh calling for more. He turned her chair sideways. She stood up, walked to the other side of her desk, and hitched up her skirt, revealing her stockings and bare ass. She bent over the table, her legs spread and stretched, her cunt ready.

“Six mistakes this time, one less than last week.”

Six cane strokes followed, leaving bright red marks between the fading lines of the seven from the week before. Tears formed, but weren’t shed, because finally he filled her up with himself, using her the way he had promised he would when she started working for him, her husband.

© Rebel’s Notes
Image from Pixabay


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13 thoughts on “Typing Errors

  1. I miss both Flash Fiction and Flash Fiction Friday. I could usually force myself to push out at least 200 words…and sometimes the parameters were even tighter than that. I wrote more fiction when those memes were around.

    I can definitely see how this may have been inspired by The Secretary. I don’t think I could type very well with someone doing these things to me. I’d make more mistakes than 6!

    1. I miss those memes too indeed, and am grateful for Liz’s meme, which at least got me to write some new stories again.

  2. A very sexy arrangement, with her needing to devote her attention to typing while he’s having fun. And the repetition of the typing was great to keep the rhythm… like a bed’s headboard thudding against the wall.

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