Descent

The Discovery

Jen was leaving work. She was late again, having agreed to finish off some work for someone else. She knew she probably shouldn't, but she really didn't like to feel that she wasn't meeting someone's expectations. She waited for the elevator to arrive. Her rationale had always been that if she felt less stress from just doing what was asked, then it had to be worth it. The elevator arrived and she entered.

"Hold the lift," someone yelled from down the corridor.

Jen pressed and held the 'door open' button. A woman ran in.

She wore an expensive skirt-suit and glasses, her raven hair was tied tightly to the back of her head and she was carrying a brief case. She was tall, especially as she was wearing high heels. Jen assumed from the way that she dressed and carried herself that she held an important position.

Jen felt this was just the sort of person that she wasn't. This person no doubt relished making decisions. Jen's experience of getting things wrong as a child had taught her from an early age that it was best to let other people have the ideas. If

they

made the decisions then

they

took the responsibility. It was far easier to just do what you were told, that way you were free of the consequences. This was somehow liberating, she was still young, but this philosophy had suited her well so far.

"Hi" said the woman, "I have to collect some papers from an office on the tenth floor, you don't mind do you?"

They were on the third floor. Jen knew it would be quicker for her to go down first than for this woman to go up. Her finger hovered by the buttons. She couldn't look at the woman, she felt embarrassed. Why was that? She knew she would be perfectly within her rights to insist that they went down first, but she felt awkward about it, she didn't like conflict. She felt that she would be being unreasonable if she didn't give in to the woman's request. If the woman hadn't thought it reasonable for them to go up then she wouldn't have asked would she reasoned Jen.

"No of course not," she said meekly, "not a problem." And she pressed button 10.

She could feel the woman watching her, hesitantly raised her head to look at the woman and confirmed that she was indeed looking at her. She instantly dropped her eyes again. Not quite sure what to do, her arms at her side and her head bobbing up and down, glancing up but darting back down again to avoid eye contact each time. The woman seemed to be studying her. Jen wasn't sure but she thought she'd seen a smirk on the woman's face.

"What do you do here?" asked the woman

"Oh, umm, I'm ah, a secretary" Jen nervously mumbled. She was actually a receptionist on the third floor. She directed visitors toward the companies they were looking for that had rented space on that floor.

"You don't dress like a secretary," said the woman, "You look far too covered up."

"Ah, well actually, no I meant receptionist. On the third floor." Jen swivelled letting her arm loosely swing out to indicate the floor numbers in the lift, her eyes on the floor the whole time.

"Ah," reflected the woman, "I see. Well, you should wear tighter tops, it may get you a promotion."

"Yes Miss." Jen wasn't sure why she'd said it.

The woman hadn't made the statement in the form of an order or anything, but the response had just come out. She was flustered and nervous, that must have been why. It was the first thing that came to mind. And of course now she was even more flustered and nervous. She dared not look at the woman, but somehow she now sensed the smirk, there was definitely some tension in the air. The elevator had reached the tenth floor and the door began to open.

"I need to get my papers. Hold the lift for me." The woman left.

Jen noticed how her words had not been formed as a request. Why should she be expected to wait around while this woman sorted her things out? But her finger was pressed to the 'door open' button. 'I'm sure she has something important to get too' thought Jen, 'that's why I should help her. After all its not like I have anything planned.'

The seconds ticked by until it was time to start counting in minutes. 'Well I can't leave now, that would be rude. Just imagine if I bumped into her again having left her here when she clearly asked me to hold the lift.' Jen pushed to the back of her mind the follow on thought, but it was there... 'No, she

told

you to hold the lift.'

Jen tried to understand why she was happy to stand there, with her thumb pressed to the 'door open' button, waiting. 'Would I do this for anyone? Did she impress me? She was very attractive, and successful, was helping her a way of sharing in that success? Where is she?!' But the real thoughts were sneaking around in the background. 'She told me to do it, that's why I'm doing this. If I don't do as she told me and something goes wrong then it would be my fault.'

After what must have been five or ten minutes Jen poked her head out into the corridor. She saw the woman making her way back along the corridor. She was walking casually, no attempt to rush. She quickly pulled her head back into the lift and waited.

The woman entered.

"Right, let's go." She said, looking at Jen, who without returning the look pressed the ground floor button.

As the lift descended the woman moved closer to Jen. Jen's discomfort was obvious.

"Do I intimidate you?" asked the woman.

Jen panicked again, and as she did in those circumstances, blurted out what was in her mind, which invariably was the truth.

"Yes" she said.

The woman reached out a hand and took Jen's chin in it. She moved Jen's face to make the younger girl look at her. The woman had very strong features, beautiful but strong. Her eyes were dark and deep; her skin was immaculate. After a long pause she said "Good."

Strangely Jen took comfort in this response, she had been worried that the woman would be angry with her, think that she was silly. It wasn't that she felt inferior to this woman. She just felt that she had a different role to play. This woman was a leader, she was a follower, both roles were important.

"How old are you?" asked the woman, "Twenty-four, Twenty-five?"

"Twenty-two" mumbled Jen.

"God you need to dress better." Stated the woman with disgust. "I was serious about those tighter tops you know. You have a decent body underneath all that cardigan crap, you should show it off, you hear me?"

"Yes Miss," the response was automatic again. Jen bit her lip, why did she say that!?

"Good. Next time I see you I want to see you in a tighter top and a shorter skirt."

The woman then reached out and lifted Jen's skirt hem. This barrage had left Jen too defensive; she wasn't in a state of mind to stop her skirt being lifted. She was back at school again, where she never managed to buy the cool clothes while they were still in fashion. She actually appreciated someone telling her what she should wear. She knew she didn't have a clue herself.

"Oh dear, not tights! What's the matter with you? Stocking's girl, stockings or nothing."

The lift reached the ground floor and the door opened. Jen didn't make a move and they both realised at the same time that she was actually waiting to see if the woman had finished. She was waiting for permission to leave.

"I will be looking out for you," said the woman, "Don't disappoint me. Now run along."

Jen left.

The Beginning

Jen had been apprehensive all day. She didn't know where in the building the woman worked, it was a big building and she may never see her again. She had mixed feelings. On the one hand she felt intimidated and would rather lie low, be overlooked. On the other hand she had an inexplicable need for approval from this more successful woman.

She had done as the woman had told her. Today she was wearing a pleated skirt that came to just above her knees with stockings and suspenders beneath. She had put on a low cut top that hugged her figure. She had a thin waist and delicate shoulders, a tighter top instantly made her appear more feminine. Although she was thin, she had always had reasonably sized breasts. They were firm and perky, the tighter top now gave them even more support, pulling them together, the vee of her shirt pointing the way to the succulent cleavage that had formed beneath her thin pale neck.

She had noticed the extra attention being paid to her by the men entering the floor. She had pulled her long blonde hair around her shoulders to try and cover-up a little more. But once again there were some feelings bouncing around in the back of her mind, feelings she dare not fully recognise, but part of her felt good to look sexy. She felt a little turned on by the fact that she had done what she was told, had worn the clothes she had been told to and was now getting extra attention. She felt she had succeeded in what she had been asked to do, and the woman would surely be impressed. And so she had a desire for the woman to find her again, and see for herself. She couldn't explain why that desire also manifested itself as a warmth between her legs.

It was nearly the end of the day when the phone range and Jen picked up.

"I'm glad to see you did as I said." It was the woman.

Jen looked around the corridors, had she missed seeing the woman earlier. She heard the woman laugh.

"I have access to the building's security camera's," she explained, " I can watch you." She added in a fake horror voice, which made Jen grin and then quickly cover it up with her hand, as though she wasn't allowed to laugh at the woman.

"You'd be surprised where some cameras have been fitted," added the woman as an aside. "Anyway, I phoned to tell you however, that the effort you've made is just not good enough." Jen's heart sank "You really haven't gone very far. Where's you're imagination, creativity? Clearly you still need my instruction. My office is on the tenth floor; it's the corner office to the left of the lift. Be at my door for six, knock at six."

The woman hung up. The last couple of sentences had been given in

bamb

,

bamb

instruction mode; although she didn't put two and two together each one had triggered strange tingles in Jen's crotch. The thought that she was probably going to be told to be even more revealing was turning Jen on, yet she didn't feel that she was being a slut, because she wasn't choosing to dress this way, she was being instructed to do this.

It didn't even cross Jen's mind not to do as she had been told.

Knock

,

knock

. "Enter"

It was a big office. Two sides were glassed, looking out over a neon-office landscape. There were no taller buildings between here and the river so there was a good view of the street lamps reflecting from the dark waters that snaked out of the city centre. The only lights on in the office were soft amber ones coming from a sink and dressing table built into the bank of mahogany panels to Jen's left, next to the mini bar.

The woman was stood in front of the sink putting makeup on. Once again she was wearing black high heels, but this time a black leather skirt surrounded her bestockinged legs. It was tight, but a slit up one leg allowed the slack needed to move. The woman was topless. Jen could see that her skin was toned and tanned. It was immaculate as she remembered the woman's face being.

"Get my bra," the woman said, pointing back to one of the big leather chairs that sat facing the desk with one hand while continuing to do her make-up in the mirror with the other.

Jen obeyed, finding an expensive black lace bra on the chair with a white silk shirt. She brought it over to the woman who held out one arm. Jen wasn't sure what this meant until the woman began to shake her arm impatiently. Jen then slid one bra strap over the arm. The woman switched her lipstick and held out the other arm. Jen pulled the opposite strap over that arm. She had a strange sensation as she moved the bra into place over the woman's ample breasts. She felt almost reverent, like a Page of old, dressing his Knight. She felt her skin tingle. Starting at her fingertips that were touching this woman's body the tingling went along her arms, down through her torso and converged on her crotch.

She caught the woman watching her in the mirror, her dark eyes looking deeply at her. She looked away quickly but had a distinct feeling that this woman had understood what she was feeling. Her face reddened. The woman finished her makeup as Jen clipped her bra into place at the back. The woman lifted her skirt up to reveal the tops of stockings and the hanging straps of her suspenders.

"Do those up," she said as she tucked her skirt over to keep it up and picked up some earrings.

Jen sank to her knees and it was only once she was down that she had a fundamental sense of a relationship forming between her and this woman, and it clearly wasn't a relationship of equals.

This was only the second time she had met this woman. From the beginning the woman had taken control, the balance of power had certainly been with her. But that was nothing new with Jen, she had always found it easier to let people tell her what to do, she avoided responsibility that way. But somehow, in a few easy steps this woman had taken issuing instructions to a whole new level. Now here Jen was kneeling at this woman's feet in her office helping her dress. And the amazing thing was that it felt perfectly natural.

She attached the suspenders at the back of the woman's stockings, the same Knight-like reverence as her gaze crossed the perfect curves of the woman's backside. Jen had to part her lips and breath through her mouth because she was feeling dizzy. She then crawled around to attach the front suspenders. The woman had finished with her earrings and was now simply looking down at Jen, smiling. Jen sensed that when she entered this office she had subconsciously chosen a path and this was the last chance to turn back. To do that, she would have to make a decision. A decision to stop doing as she had been told to do. The woman was waiting.

Jen reached up her hands and attached the last suspender straps, smoothing down the silky material over the woman's firm tanned thighs. She had not taken the chance. She became aware that the warmth in her crotch had become moisture. Something in her was turned on by being in this position. She felt ashamed and turned red again, and she knew that the woman could see this.

The woman shook her skirt back down while Jen waited on her knees.

"Get up," said the woman spinning around and collecting the shirt from the chair, "I'm going out tonight, but we're going shopping first. Once I've shown you how to dress we can look at helping you in other areas."

The woman left the office followed closely by Jen. As they headed off down the corridor the woman suddenly stopped and turned to Jen.

" I think it's easier if you walk just a step or two behind me."

Jen wasn't sure why this was easier, and was vaguely aware that it was rude of this woman to ask her to do that. But Jen's natural tendency to feel inferior and this woman's confidant manner somehow made it seem a slightly more reasonable request. In any event, it was easier to just do as she had asked than create a confrontation over it.

So Jen obeyed, and realised that she had not in fact uttered a word throughout this strange set of events.

The Grooming

Jen followed the woman around the shop as she selected various items of clothing. Jen had not seen the shop before, but the woman seemed to know the people who owned it, as they appeared to have opened it just for them. It stocked a variety of clothing and the woman led her off to the changing rooms with a selected armful.

The changing room was a reasonably large pentagon with mirrors on each wall, including the door, which closed behind them to seal them in with their many reflected copies. Against one wall was a low bench where the woman deposited her selected clothes and then sat down beside them.

"Ok, get undressed," she said.

Jen paused, surely not with her in here. This wasn't right.

"But," she said

The woman looked up suddenly, fixing her with her gaze. Jen panicked once more and looked away.

"But what?" Asked the woman harshly, "Do you think I have all night? I'm trying to help you here! You want to get on don't you?"

Jen wasn't sure that she did. "Yes Miss," she said meekly, reverting to Miss again. The woman had never told her her name, and Jen had never found an appropriate time to ask. She didn't like the way this woman was getting upset with her.

"You do want me to improve your image don't you?"

"Yes Miss" she felt silly now, the foolish girl again.

The woman paused and in a calm flat voice said,

"You do want me to tell you what you should be doing don't you?"

"Yes Miss," Jen told herself that she was panicking and just repeating those words, but the voices in the back of her head told her that she had heard the question properly, that she had understood what was being implied. She had answered in a panic, but that only meant that she had answered the truth. The tingling in her stomach, and below, was back.

"Then get undressed, we have a lot to try on".

Jen was reminded of the feeling as she had sunk to her knees in the woman's office earlier that evening as she slowly undid the clip on her skirt and let it fall to the ground. The flesh and stockings of her legs reflected back at her from every angle. She could not hide from what she was doing here. The woman on the bench was watching her closely. She removed her top, slipped out of her shoes, undid the suspenders and removed the stockings

She stood waiting. The woman stood up impatiently and quickly moved around behind Jen unclipping her bra and virtually ripping it down and off her arms, tossing it on the floor. She then reached back and gripped one of Jens firm breasts, squeezing it. Jen gave a gasp.

"Look," said the woman, "They're nice breasts, you shouldn't be ashamed of them." Jen was speechless.

Shocked that someone was doing this, but also shocked that for the first time someone else was handling her, and her body was responding positively to the sensation. Even though she was quiet and gentle, perhaps because of this, her body seemed to enjoy this rougher treatment.

"Oh look," said the woman in a teasing voice, "You're nipples are hard."

She laughed and squeezed one. Jen jumped and whimpered at the sensation, but did nothing to remove the woman's hand. The sensation had shot through her body, coursing through her nervous system and landing in that deep dark slot. Jen knew that she was wet. She was very confused.

She felt humiliated, by the fact that this bizarre situation was turning her on and by the fact that this woman seemed to have noticed. She would have thought that feeling humiliated would have reversed any erotic effects this incident were providing, but the truth seemed to be the opposite, it seemed to enhance a sense of wanting inside her. As though she yearned to please more in order to compensate for the humiliation she had brought upon herself.

She knew she was taking instructions from a woman she barely new. She had undressed almost completely naked and this woman was now touching her in a way no one else had, and she was feeling incredibly aroused.

There seemed to be nothing sexual in this woman's actions. In fact she had now let go and was heading back to the bench. Jen had never been attracted to women on a sexual level before. It must be a combination of things. This was a woman that Jen looked up to as a senior and better. This woman was successful and deserved respect. This woman took control of things with ease. When all Jen had to do was follow instructions she was able to relax, this may explain some of the arousal.