Brief introduction: this is the first real erotic story I've written, having been a longtime reader/lurker and a longtime lover of BDSM and rough sex. This is based very much on my own fantasies - "Sarah" is based on myself and my own life and "Kenneth" in this story is based on one of my bosses. The sexual nature of the relationship is not one that has happened in real life... (Yet?)
******************************
Her heart fluttered when she saw his name pop up in the lower right side of her laptop screen. She knew she wasn't the only one at the firm whose breathing quickened when they saw a notification from him.
He was one of the partners at the accounting firm she worked for. Known for his bluntly worded feedback, demanding expectations, and his particular style of putting employees on the spot, it was no wonder he struck fear in the hearts of many of his colleagues.
Sarah quickly opened her inbox and clicked on the email, hoping it was one of his standard bullet point lists of where you messed up, and how he fixed it. These emails had varying levels of condescension, sometimes they were quick pointers and sometimes they were downright hurtful.
The subject line was the name of one of his clients for which she'd recently completed a complex project for. As she read the one line that made up the email, her heart sank.
"Come see me when you have a chance, Thx."
She would have to go speak to him in his office. Sarah dreaded going in there. Located in the further corners of their 15th floor office space, he preferred his workspace quiet and far away from the chattier members of the firm. He always kept the blinds drawn, and Sarah had always likened his office to a batcave of sorts. An explosion of paperwork constantly surrounded him, piles of documents, binders, and boxes that made it difficult to navigate your way in there. All of this added to the discomfort one felt when being addressed by him.
Sarah grabbed a pen and her notebook, flipping to a fresh page. She began mentally preparing herself to speak to him, wishing his email had given her any inclination as to what he might want so she could prepare herself further. She stood up and smoothed down her outfit. It was summer, which meant she took advantage of the few months of warmth and alternated between her many sundresses. Today she wore a simple black dress with a lace floral print around the bottom. It clung to her small figure. She straightened the tight blazer she wore over it and fiddled with the long necklace that sat on her medium sized chest. Clutching her notebook against her chest, she quickly made her way across the office. She brought the notebook with her in case she needed to jot something down he wanted her to do or follow up on, but truthfully it was moreso a tool to keep her hands busy. His eyes on her had the effect of making her feel extremely self aware and fidgety.
She approached his partially opened office door. Taking a deep breath, she hurried up to it and rapped twice on the door.
"Come on in," he called out, not turning around from his multiple screens. Sarah stepped in and stood waiting at the table that separated them while he finished typing a sentence in an email. She surveyed the office. There was not a clear table surface anywhere. Sarah wondered if he deliberately kept it so uninviting and dim.
"I need help understanding some these adjustments you guys made," he spoke, "pull up a seat and we can go through some of these."
He still hadn't turned around to face her. He began pulling up the relevant worksheets as she slipped her notebook and pencil under her arm and struggled to pull up a chair beside him and his screens, being careful to not hit anything or tip over any piles.
He made some room for her chair and turned towards her, quickly surveyed her, his eyes landing on her shoes as they always did before turning back to his screen. He did this often, and it added to her feelings of self consciousness.
She sat down and fiddled with her notebook's spiral. As he pulled up documents and spreadsheets on his screens, she wracked her brain with something to say to fill the silence. He wasn't one for small talk, and unlike many of the others in the office, rarely discussed his personal life or bothered asking others about theirs.
Instead, sarah studied the side of his face. She had only admitted it to one of her colleagues (who was also a friend), but she felt an unusual and undeniable attraction to him. Kenneth was in his mid 40s, she guessed. He was tall and kept himself in good shape. His body had the leanness of a regular runner. Normally he wore a freshly pressed dress shirt and dress pants unless there was a client meeting, in which case he wore a suit. His clothes all fit him snugly, showing off his lean muscles. He had a full head of hair that he kept short, and was normally clean shaven. Ever since the pandemic restrictions took effect, he had let his facial hair grow - to Sarah's conflicting dismay and glee.
She held her knees together tightly. Her close proximity to Kenneth meant if she relaxed her legs, her right knee would bump into his left one. She felt a temptation to relax and let their knees touch, but she quelled this desire and refocused her attention on the spreadsheet he pulled up on the screen closest to her. She knew they were breaking the office rules - they were both supposed to be masked up and maintaining a social distance. She found herself wishing she'd remembered to slip on her mask before she came over - having half her face hidden may have given her a small degree of comfort.
His brow furrowed as he began explaining the importance of detailed documentation. No other partner at their firm insisted on such a high level of detail and scrutiny. While this often made him a pain to work for, the extreme level of detail did make his projects easier to follow than others'.
"...for example, here you noted that the balance didn't require a write-down, however this comment over here suggests..." He droned on as Sarah struggled to remember what her thought process was when she had submitted this file 2 weeks prior.
She knew he'd finish off his explanation with a question that she would have to have an answer to. It was often a rhetorical one, worded in such a way that made you feel small and idiotic.
As her colleague had asked her multiple times, what exactly did she find so irresistible about this man? Was it his constant disapproving tone? Sarah often found that she craved his rare praise. It strangely made her feel worthy when he recognized her good work and praised her for it. This didn't happen regularly, as he normally only brought her work up to critique it. She maintained professionalism when responding to his criticisms no matter how condescending they were, always thanking him for his feedback and reminders.
"...I know I've reminded you of this in the past and it's imperative that you make sure to do this moving forward," he said to her. It was when he looked at her directly that she felt her hands inevitably began to shake slightly. His eyes were both her favorite and least favorite feature about him. They were light blue, and absolutely piercing when he made direct eye contact. It gave her a strange sense of fear, and she often found herself looking down when she spoke to him, afraid that if she made direct eye contact she might lose her train of thought.
"Yes, right, sorry about that," she stammered as she scribbled down a point in her notebook that she was sure would make no sense to her later. "It must've slipped my mind -"
"This isn't the first time it's slipped your mind," he cut her off, not breaking eye contact. She didn't know how to respond. She felt her face heating up as his eyes seemed to look straight through her. She broke eye contact and looked down into her lap. "I'm sorry," she responded meekly.
When she had sat down, her dress pulled up to her mid thigh, which is partially why she kept her legs locked together so tightly. Fidgeting, she crossed her right leg over her left, which caused her dress to pull up even higher. She saw him glance down for a very brief moment and felt the warmth in her face grow. Was he disapproving at her dress length? Was it too short? Would she receive an email from HR later about appropriate work attire?
Sarah felt his eyes on her a moment longer before he turned back and moved onto the next item on his list.
The more she remained in his presence, the greater her attraction grew. As she worked in several of his projects in the last few weeks, her attraction had grown until it had become nearly unbearable. She tried to quash it down and ignore it, as she felt it made her too nervous around him to sound competent. She was quick witted, personable, and easy to talk to with everyone else. With him, it was like her cognition was impaired.
He went through his remaining questions and concerns, at one point agreeing with a conclusion she had made. She had felt that familiar twinge of pride at his acknowledgement that she'd done something right.
Back at her desk, she finally let herself relax. Her heart rate began to slow down as she replayed their interaction in her head, wondering if anything she had said sounded stupid. She really hated to sound stupid in front of him. She wanted him to like her. She didn't really care about any of her other colleagues opinions of her, but she craved his approval. At one point, she remembered, he had reached over to grab a pen and his knee briefly touched her own bare one. She shivered as she thought back to this, allowing herself to fantasize about his warm hand gently squeezing her knee.
Sarah knew that her thong was a mess. Her own juice drenched the thin string, as it normally did whenever she had to physically interact with Kenneth. Once or twice, when she was particularly worked up, she had to take care of herself in the bathroom stall. Those times, her fantasies were so strong they would not allow her to focus on her work.
She sighed as she looked down at the hand written list she had accumulated while in his office. He wanted several things changed, documentation added, and drafts made up. His client meeting was tomorrow, and Sarah knew she had a long night ahead of her. She just hoped that the finished product was up to his standards. Smiling slightly as she imagined him complimenting her efficiency, she pulled up to her keyboard and got to work. Occasionally, she thought of his piercing blue eyes and rubbed her knees together slightly, shivering.
Sarah stretched back in her chair, glancing at the time. It was close to 11:00pm, and she was nearly finished. She was exhausted, looking forward to going home and slipping into some sweatpants. She had to speak to Kenneth a few more times that evening to confirm some things, and felt the throbbing between her legs grow with each interaction. Having dropped off the last draft an hour earlier, it was time to sign off and take care of that throbbing feeling from the comfort of her couch.
Grinning, she typed out a message to her colleague: "about to clock out of another long night finishing one of Kenneth's inane assignments. So many late nights this month and not so much as a thank you or a pat on the head."
Her colleague, Terry responded quickly: "a pat on the head or on the ass? I'm surprised you've made it this long without making a move ;)"
"What am I supposed to do exactly?" Sarah typed back, "ask for a spanking instead of one of his lectures? Its getting harder to be around him so much...I might slip up one of these days and ask how he feels about getting that dump truck ass of his ate"
She hit send and began tidying up her workspace, packing up her belongings. Terry and her continued sending texts back and forth, making fun of Sarah's sexual fascination with her dickheaded boss.
