Submitting to Her (3 page)

Slowly, steadily, giving her plenty of time
to step in and tell me to stop being ridiculous, of course it was a
joke, I stood up.

Still, she did not stop me. I faced her,
looking her straight in the eye as I removed my tie and slipped off
my jacket, depositing them on my chair. Showing that I could do
this. If she was taking this further, I would show I could handle
it.

Hell, even if there was some kind of Candid
Camera somewhere - some direct streaming link to YouTube - better I
fall for that than lose my job. I could take a little humiliation,
I deserved it. But in this economy, I needed employment, and if
that wasn't to be, I would need references.

I unfastened my shirt and pulled my shoes
off, leaving myself in only my pants, underwear and socks.

Zoey stood in front of the door, arms folded
in front of her chest. She wasn't reacting visibly to my exposed
flesh, though she was watching me closely, taking in the firm lines
of my torso.

If she did get me to take off all my clothes,
what would she want then? For me to demean myself in some way, like
some kind of college hazing? What if this was merely a final
twisting of the knife? She'd reduce me to a public joke, and then
I'd get fired anyway?

Ordinarily, I was comfortable enough
stripping off in front of an attractive woman - I was a regular gym
user. This time, I was trembling like a leaf as I unbuckled my belt
and popped the fly of my pants. My skin was rising up in goose
bumps from the cool conditioned air. My socks came off, and now I
stood in nothing but a pair of gray CK boxer shorts.

Standing quietly forlorn in my underwear, I
waited for her to tell me what a jerk I'd been - and what an idiot
I was to be stripping down in front of her now. Then, suitably
chastened, I was sure she'd hassle me out of the office to start my
weekend.

She didn't.

She said only, "Those too."

I swallowed, took a deep breath, wishing to
God that the creatures crawling around my stomach would stop
moving.

Then I put my fingers into the waistband of
my boxer shorts and with a little flick of my wrists, the cotton
was slipping over my butt and down my thighs, leaving me standing
to attention in front of my department head, naked as a
jaybird.

Jesus.

This young woman, who for six months had been
merely a junior member of my team - and now had the power to end my
career, put me on the bread line - and I was completely exposed to
her, as though I'd stumbled into some teenage nightmare.

What was she going to do? I felt my cock
twitch in the air, out of pure anxiety.

I had to have looked so ridiculous.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked now.

"I don't want you to talk unless you're
answering a question, understand?"

"Understand."

"You can take that as a new rule, whenever
we're alone."

She took a few steps toward me, and I could
feel her eyes running all over my body, peering at me, examining
me, assessing me as though I was a farm animal, or perhaps a slave
at market. Slowly, she wandered around, just looking at me.

I was guessing this was some kind of trick
designed to make me completely compliant to her every command from
now on. I'd comply, though part of me was thinking how she must be
breaching dozens of corporate sexual harassment rules. The rest of
me was still scratching about for ideas on what kind of job I might
get with my qualifications and no references if she was still
planning on humiliating me before firing me.

From behind me, I heard her say: "Kneel on
the floor."

I did as she told me, my pulse accelerating
from the complete uncertainty I felt as I slumped down to my knees.
I had no idea what she had in mind. Was she going to suddenly march
the rest of our team in the room to see me in this embarrassing
state?

"Hands on the floor," she barked.

I complied, down onto all fours.

She stood in front of me. I kept my head down
since that was the easiest thing to do to keep my hands on the
floor. From there I could see only her high-heeled black leather
shoes and shapely calves clad in provocative black fishnet
pantyhose. Had she been wearing fishnets all day? I hadn't noticed
that. I really must have been blinded by my resentment.

So close to her, I could detect a hint of her
perfume in the air, which was surprisingly sweet for someone
attempting to come over as a forceful authority.

"Lick my shoe."

So, she was really going to put me in my
place.

I leaned forward, craning my neck to reach
the cool black leather of her nearest shoe. I took a deep breath,
drawing in a stronger hint of her fragrance, and of course the
musty aroma of leather itself. I stuck out my tongue as far as it
would go, and trailed a long lick from the toe of her shoe along to
the heel, figuring I'd show her I could do this properly, whatever
wacko demands she had.

"And the other one," she ordered me.

I complied.

It might have been humiliating, but it
actually sent a shiver of exhilaration through my body, feeling so
degrading, so filthy, that subtle yet sweet perfume of hers added
into the mix to make me feel suddenly so alive.

Sure, it helped she was attractive, but it
was a real surprise to me how this compliance seemed such a serious
thrill.

Zoey made me lick both of her shoes again,
which I took ludicrous time to complete to show her how willing I
was. As I trailed my tongue around the hard leather, she said:
"That's good. I think perhaps you can follow orders after all."

I was about to assure her I could do exactly
that, when I remembered her earlier order not to talk unless
answering a question.

Head still bowed respectfully, my lips
pausing on the upper slope of her shoe, I heard a whispering of
fabric as she reached under her skirt for a moment, and then I was
startled as something dropped down onto me.

Her panties.

I looked up at her, a burning question in my
eyes as she stepped out of the little black thong. She looked
ravishing in her smart office wear made wicked by fishnets and high
heels, but my eyes widened as she lifted up her skirt, revealing
the lace tops of her thigh-high hold-ups and then a beautiful
little shaven pussy, adorned by a tidy patch of soft dark-brown
hair.

"Now lick me here," she said, edging her
thighs apart.

I leaned forward and stretched up, in total
disbelief at what was happening. Deep down, I still figured she was
going to stop me any minute, laugh at me, then reveal where the
camera was, or whatever the prank was. Yet now she was exposed,
too, taking us outside the boundaries of a possible trick.

I brushed my cheek against her velvet inner
thigh, the intense heat of her flesh shocking me, somehow
confirming all this was real. Then my lips touched down delicately
just to the side of her pussy.

She didn't stop me. As I kissed her, I found
myself swamped by a stronger hit of her perfume, combined with the
spicy scent of her arousal. She wasn't just teaching me a lesson,
then, putting me in my place. She looked down at me, and I couldn't
believe how stunning she looked from that angle. How had I not had
an office crush on this girl over the past six months? Even with my
bitter resentment.

"I said lick me here," she ordered, parting
her legs a little now, pointing to her glistening folds.

It wasn't the easiest angle, but I nestled my
face in between her thighs, and now started licking, caressing
whatever I could reach with whatever force I could muster. I felt
her hand take hold of the back of my head and firmly pull me into
her.

I had to jostle for position a little, but
ultimately found a way to get at her oh-so-pretty pussy, delving my
tongue into her burning-hot folds before nuzzling her clit. I loved
her flavor, as I loved her scent. Savory, slightly sharp, so very
exotic.

She groaned, and I noticed she was now
starting to gyrate her hips gently, taking back some control, using
my face as her own personal sex toy. I felt her tremble a little,
and almost lose her footing on those heels.

Then she pulled away, said: "Lie down. On the
floor."

I turned and did as she wanted, lying flat
out there on the rough corporate carpet. From somewhere out in the
rest of the building, I could hear someone operating a vacuum
cleaner, and half wondered what a cleaner might think if he or she
accidentally stumbled onto this scene.

For a few moments, I just lay there like a
turtle on its back, as she gazed down on me. I could still taste
her on my lips - what a treat. Was she really trying to punish me?
Or was this something else, the offer of a bribe to get me to bend
to her will? For a taste of that exquisite pussy, I would walk on
hot coals for her, my new boss. She didn't need to threaten me with
the loss of my job. I hoped I could show her that.

She stepped around me, occasionally prodding
my body with a toe.

"Not bad, Jones. Tall, dark and handsome - no
wonder you have such a reputation with the ladies. Not that there
are many around here."

I remained obediently silent. It sounded so
different, her using my surname like that. Not as it had been
before - she'd always called us by our first names in the office. I
supposed everything was different now.

"You've kept yourself vaguely in shape. I'm
impressed," she said. "I like your cock. Not the biggest I've ever
seen, but it looks like a good size."

With the tip of her foot, she toyed with my
aforementioned good size.

"You know, I haven't had sex in a while," she
said. "I've been so busy, so stressed ever since I've worked here.
No time to go out, no time to find a boyfriend. Stressed - and
that's been because you've made my life so difficult."

She leaned over suddenly, flexing like a
gymnast, and now she was running her pert little nose along the
rigid shaft of my cock, feeling it out for herself.

Then she looked up at my face, said: "I think
it's only right you should compensate me for that stress, don't you
think, Jones?"

I croaked a yes, figuring it was a question,
I was allowed to answer.

She smiled. "So maybe I have found a use for
you in my team, after all."

She stepped over me now, so that she stood
directly above my face, high-heeled shoes either side of my head.
She unfastened her skirt from around her waist, and there was her
stunning pussy, in all its glory.

"So," she said. "I think our new deal needs
two components, right? One - you do exactly as I tell you, you
manage your team as well as if you were head of department
yourself. And, secondly, you compensate me for the stress you've
put me under for the past six months."

She lowered her body now, slowly, so that I
could see the muscles tensing in her shapely thighs. I craned my
head upwards, craving more of her sweet elixir. With a little
chuckle, she wiggled her hips as her stunning kitty edged closer
and closer to my mouth, taunting me. I was inhaling her dark, spicy
aroma with every breath, and loving it.

Then, at last, she touched down, and I was
given another taste of her exquisite juices.

"Oh God..." she moaned as I ran my tongue
from the base of her pussy all the way to the top under her clit,
tasting her, reveling in the intense heat and profuse moisture of
her tender folds.

She didn't leave me to control it, though.
She was soon starting up a gentle rocking motion so that her pussy
rubbed over my mouth and nose - using me as an object. I adored
being used by her. My face slippery with her arousal as she moved
over me, wedging me in between her thighs.

I have no idea how long I was there, lying on
the floor of her office, treated like some kind of inanimate
replacement for a firm pillow as she ground her hot wetness down on
me. Zoey seemed focused solely on getting herself off, it was so
unbelievably sexy. I could hear her gasping and doing her best to
stifle her cries as she rode my face like a racehorse.

I hoped she was getting her long-awaited
release, though I would have been happy to continue all night if
she needed.

"Everything okay in there?" a voice came in
through the door - female and sporting a slight accent.

The cleaner.

Zoey picked herself up, stretching her leg
muscles as though warming down after a workout. She said through
the door: "Uh... yes, Giselle." And I thought the fact she knew the
cleaner's name was a bad signal about the amount of time she'd been
putting in at work recently. "I'm working late again - just
accidentally stubbed my toe on the desk."

"Oh... okay, Ms Schoenberg. I will just clean
in your office later."

Could the cleaner detect anything through the
door? The scent of Zoey's aroused pussy was gloriously thick in the
air.

She waited a moment, looked down at me with a
finger at her lips ordering me to be quiet. I saw her wander over
to her desk, and as she ventured behind it, I couldn't see what she
was doing.

Then, we heard the vacuum start up again some
way away.

Zoey returned, stepping over me again,
kneeling, lowering herself so that spectacular pussy was closing in
on my face again, this time with breathtaking speed. My head was
locked firmly in place in such a tight confine it was hard to
breathe. She held my hair with one hand as I focused as much on
sucking in oxygen as I did dealing with her copious moisture.

Her rocking on my face eventually subsided to
a subtle motion that was not much more than a vibration. I
suspected she had found a good position to lodge her clit against
my nose, but while her pace had eased a little, her breathing
deepened into loud panting. I could hardly see anything, of course,
but felt like I'd never been anywhere so hot, so liquid, so
tantalizing for the senses.