Jess had worked for Jameson International for 5 years. She was middle management. Smart and innovative, she had risen quickly from her entry level position at the firm. About a year ago, she was included on a project team that would combine members of her London office with members from the firm's office in Los Angeles. It was apparent from nearly the beginning that one member from Los Angeles, Zachary Marsden, was the genius who would win or lose the deal they were trying to close with their Japanese partners.
Somehow, Jess slipped into an administrative role in support of Zack. He would email her asking her to check this, file that, double-check this, and she had no choice but to follow him - without a doubt, he was right in everything he did. In fact, Jess began to see the net Zack was slowly spreading around the Japanese firm, beginning to see the chess moves that Zack was plotting, and she knew that he would close this deal, and that Jameson International would be the victor.
After the deal had closed, and in offices around the world Jameson employees were glowing and shaking hands, an email came to Jess, and to Jess alone. It was from Zack - thanking her quite sincerely for her hard work, and her assistance. Something about the email, about it coming to her alone, made Jess wet as she sat at her desk in London. She read it over and over, reaching her hand down between her legs, stroking herself secretly as she read Zack's complimentary email again and again.
In the days and weeks that followed, Zack kept in touch with her. He had suggestions for her professional life, tips on internal Jameson politics. He began to suggest more personal things - clothing suggestions, diet, exercise, and Jess followed his directions without pause, beginning to yearn for his emails and his guidance.
Finally, her phone rang one day. It was Zack. She was astounded. He instructed her to take pencil and paper and write down his private email address, and then to email him from her private email - explicitly telling her not to use the Jameson email program. She did as he commanded, and gradually fell farther and farther under his control.
He had requested two photos from her - instructing her, each time, what to wear. Deliberately telling her to hide her face from the camera, he asked for one photo taken outside, in the type of business suit that she would wear to work. The other photo was taken in lingerie that arrived at her door. Silky lace that made her think of him when it brushed against her skin.
Their conversations - occurring entirely via chat online, were immensely intimate and they shared similar tastes sexually. In a matter of weeks Jessie couldn't imagine her life without Zack - couldn't bear even a day without his hand in her life. Zeck knew that she was falling under his control, and it thrilled him. He loved her eagerness to please. He loved that she was there when he wanted her, and he knew there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. She had waited so long for a perfect owner, and she was determined to be a perfect slave.
He waited a long time to arrange their first meeting. He wanted to make sure she was properly, and unthinkingly, obedient, before he finally allowed her to meet him in person. He gave her strict instructions about her outfit - a short black cocktail dress, no underwear, no stockings. He instructed her as to how to wear her hair- twisted up into a bun, with not a single wisp loose. For shoes, he demanded tall, elegant, red heels, and finally, a red silk scarf which he had delivered to her for the occasion. He told her a time, a place, where to wait and how. He knew she would follow his instructions to the letter.
The days before the meeting dragged on endlessly for Jessie. Each night, she practiced wearing the outfit Zack had demanded of her - practiced her obedience to his every command. She was permanently wet, aching for him, she was distracted, struggling to function. The night before their meeting she laid the outfit on her bed. As she ran the silk scar through her hands one more time before trying to get to sleep, she imagined what Zack would look like, how he would move, how it would feel to have his hands touch her skin and most importantly of all, if he would be pleased with her.
She woke after a restless night, with hours to spare before her meeting time. She knew she needed every minute to make her body fit for her perfect master. She scrubbed and shaved, washed her hair and let the hot water rinse over her skin. She dried herself and began dressing for Zack with all the care and attention possible, terrified of getting something wrong. When she had finished she looked at herself in the mirror, the red scarf delicately tied around her neck, the slinky cocktail dress barely decent, showing her long legs. The whole outfit was made perfect by the red suede heels, sexy and bold. Everything was exactly as Zack had wanted and she knew he would be pleased, and the thought of pleasing him made her wet all over again.
She got out of the taxi and made her way into the hotel that Zach had chosen. He had told her to wait in the bar downstairs on a stool, legs crossed. It's exactly what she did, she wouldn't move a muscle unless he told her to. Zack was anxious to see his Jessie for the first time. He dressed in a dark suit, having cleanly and exactingly shaved his facial hair. He knew a clean face and dark suit flattered his tall athletic physique, and he wanted his first impression to be one of confidence, and command, and lust. When he arrived at the hotel he went first to the reception to pick up the key, before heading to the bar.
He noticed her right away. She was sitting side on to the bar, facing the other entrance, unaware that her master was looking over her body fully for the first time. As he approached, his eyes traced a line down the side of her neck, over her shoulder, down her body, over her hips, barely covered by her dress, and along her bare legs. She was perfect. She looked exactly as he wanted her to look, exactly as he had told her to look. He was behind her, close enough to smell her perfume, see the freckle on her left shoulder and admire how the red silk looked against her smooth skin.
"Jess."
He saw her tremble, and take a sharp intake of breath. She slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder, and turned her body enough to face him, to look into his eyes. "Zack?"
He smiled as he touched his fingers under her chin, and lifted her face slightly to kiss her lips. Jessie was falling to pieces, unable to move, more aroused than she had ever been. When the kiss finished he stood tall again and said "stand up Jess." She immediately got to her feet. "Come with me," he said, putting his hand on the small of her back, leading her from the room towards the lifts.
Jess was self conscious in her short dress. She felt exposed, revealed, to everyone in the bar, but at the same time, somehow protected by Zack's presence. Walking at his side, with no panties on, knowing that he could easily reach down and find her soaking cunt, made her even more wet, and more sensitive, to the point where the gentle movement of the fabric on her skin was arousing her with every step. The sight of him after so long was like Christmas morning. She was so excited, and so full of anticipation, his dark looks, his crisp suit, his tall body - it was everything she had imagined.
In the elevator, almost beside herself with anticipation, she shyly looked at him as they stood side by side. They were strangers, and yet they were already so intimate. He knew her in ways that no-one else did. He owned her, controlled her, and she felt small and shy standing here next to him. He looked down at her and smiled. "You're tense, Jess." he said. "Just breathe. Just breathe." She felt his hand slide around her waist, and his touch both relaxed and aroused her further. As the chime rang to announce that they had reached their floor, he led her out of the lift with just the touch of his hand to her lower back.
