I am doing temp work as a secretary in a small office. One lunchtime, everyone else chose to have their lunch at 12, leaving just me to take my break at 1. It was warm and sunny outside, so they quickly left the office to buy lunch and then probably to sit on the picnic benches in the garden area that was shared with the other nearby offices. That hour was passing very slowly - the phone didn't ring, no emails came in and I'd already completed most of my tasks for the day. My thoughts began to wander, returning to what had been a recurrent fantasy since I'd started working here almost two weeks ago.
You didn't stand out much when I was first introduced to you, my boss interrupting you in the middle of concentrating on the computer code that you were dissecting. But later that morning, you'd rolled your shirt sleeves up and I noticed your arms, strong thick arms like those of a rugby player, unusual for a guy who worked in IT. And then I'd seen you take off your glasses and been able to fully appreciate your dark eyes as you came over to talk to me about a pile of papers that needed filing. You looked very different without the glasses, even more attractive, like Clark Kent taking off his glasses and becoming a superhero. Over the time I'd worked there, you'd always been friendly and we'd had brief conversations about previous careers, photography, nature documentaries, politics, hobbies and other diverse and interesting topics. Many times, when you were absorbed in your work, I'd glanced up at you and wondered how it would feel to be pinned down by your strong arms, completely at your mercy, feeling your penetrating eyes taking in my whole body.
As my thoughts wander in the empty office, I become wet and desperate. My hand moves down to my clit, rubbing it gently through my skirt. I imagine you kissing me, claiming my mouth with yours, forcing your tongue into me, before your mouth moves down to suck and gently bite my nipples. I shift slightly in my seat so that I can move my hand under my skirt, continuing to stroke my clit through my knickers and tights. I can easily see the front door from my desk, and the desk has a solid front, so I'm not really worrying about anyone catching me, but doing this in a public place still creates an exciting thrill. I lose myself in a fantasy and soon I feel a small orgasm wash over me.
Suddenly I hear someone clearing their throat behind me and my heart leaps. I quickly move my hand and turn to see you standing behind me, your dark eyes staring right at me. Flustered, I squeak "Hello," trying to sound normal and hoping that you somehow didn't notice. You must have come in through a side door without me noticing, and I wonder how long you have been standing there, silently watching me. You move closer to me, now towering over me in my seat. My eyes are wide with apprehension as I look up at you.
"I saw what you were doing," you say, in a stern voice that makes my heart thump even harder.
"I... um... I thought... Everyone was at lunch..." I stammer.
"This wouldn't look good for you if other people were to find out, would it?"
"No," I reply, looking down and trying to hold back the tears that are pricking at my eyes.
"So maybe we can come to some arrangement. Book out the meeting room at 2 and meet me there."
Without further discussion, you walk out of the room. I book the meeting room out for an 'IT meeting' and spend the next half hour miserably regretting my actions before everyone else returns from lunch. Then I spend my hour lunch break wandering aimlessly around the nearby park, trying in vain to distract myself from the fears of what this could mean for me. If you told other people, not only would it be incredibly embarrassing, but I'd lose this job and probably any chance of future work with this agency. But what did you mean by 'some arrangement'? I guess I'll find out soon enough.
At 2 o'clock, I make my way to the meeting room and see you sitting on a chair waiting for me. As I enter, you tell me to lock the door behind me and to pull down the blind on the door. You gesture to a chair and tell me to sit down, but then continue, "No, kneel," pointing to a spot on the floor next to your chair. I hesitate and you stare at me expectantly. "You need to understand your place with me from the beginning. So you can either kneel, or you can walk back out of that door and I will have to tell someone about what I saw at lunchtime."
Reluctantly, I kneel beside your chair and you continue to explain the agreement that you are offering. "You will be my slave. You will do exactly what I tell you and I will do exactly what I like to you. In return, I will keep your dirty little secret and you will keep your job and your reputation. Do you understand?" I nod. "No, tell me," you continue. "Tell me that you understand."
"I understand," I say quietly.
"You will call me Sir when we are alone. Try again."
"I understand, Sir."
"And do you accept this agreement?"
I pause. This is almost what I fantasised about. But that was just fantasy. Can I really do this in reality? What if you want to hurt me? What if I want you to hurt me? I shouldn't want that, but maybe I do. And I need this job.
"Yes, Sir," I reply.
"Good," you say. "Then I think it is time I begin to explore what my new slut has to offer me. Stand up and take off your blouse and skirt." I glance at the door and then back at you, sitting back in your chair staring at me with an expectant look. Slowly, I begin to undo the buttons on my blouse, then remove it and place it over the back of a chair. Your expression remains passive, giving away nothing of your thoughts, as I slide my skirt down over my hips and let it fall to the floor. "Take off the tights too. From now on, you will only wear stockings or hold-ups to work." I remove my tights and place them, and my skirt, on the back of the chair. You gesture for me to turn around. I feel so exposed, displaying my body to you like this, and yet I can feel myself becoming aroused. Then you stand up, pull me towards you and kiss me, softly at first and then becoming more forceful. I cannot help responding.
"So tell me, my slut, what were you thinking about while you masturbated?"
I blush, reluctant to admit my fantasies. But there is something about the way you look at me that demands honesty and I find myself unable to lie to you. "I was thinking about you."
"Interesting..." you reply, smiling. "Were you thinking about me dominating you?"
I nod. "Yes."
