Things had been getting difficult at work lately. The open planned office was awash with fear. Ten people were made to go last week; the general consensus was that more would be following. It was such bad timing - I'd only recently bought my house. At twenty eight, I thought I was doing ok. I had some savings and I knew I couldn't stay at my mother's for the rest of my life; then, the week after moving in, the boss came with the news that we had to get rid of some of the staff. What made it worse was the look on her face: she looked like she was getting a kick out of telling people the gloomy situation.
I never had many dealings with the boss, she was either abroad or out seeing clients, but people had told me she ruled with an iron fist; she took no prisoners -- as I was to find out.
I was attracted to her. I think she was thirty nine, the last time someone told me. She was quite tall, maybe five foot ten, and a perfect size: not too skinny. She had long and thick black hair and a strong, round face, with these piercing blue eyes; one look from them could either kill you, or excite you. She always power dressed, usually something in black; always boots, and sometimes patented ones if she felt daring; varying length of short skirts, black sheen stockings, and usually a tight fitting blouse covering her well talked about tits, and Jesus, they were talked about; how she managed to fit them in that blouse was a mystery.
Then, one dull uneventful day, she walked out of her office looking amazing. She decided to do away with the stockings and went bare legged. She thought it appropriate to wear a brand new pair of black patented boots that looked very expensive and matched her black satin miniskirt -- revealing more leg than usual; you could see she was getting off on it. The whole look was finished off with the usual tight white blouse.
"Gather round everyone," she ordered.
Immediately, I knew this was going to be bad.
"As you are aware, more redundancies have to be made," she paused, "this is something very hard for us all, but after much thought the following people will be leaving us."
She read out a list of ten names, and stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief when my name wasn't one of them; however, she hadn't finished.
"Also, we have to get rid of one of the IT tech's posts, but this will happen in three months time when the new infrastructure has been put in place."
I couldn't believe it. My stomach felt sick.
"I will talk to the IT guys this afternoon to tell them of their options," she continued -- then turned around and calmly walked back to her office.
That afternoon, four of my work mates had already been in her office, two were quite some time, while the other two were straight in and out. There was a ten minute wait after the last person in had left, but then Gill, the bosses PA came over to ask me to see her.
I walked towards her office; the full length glass walls had the blinds closed behind them. I nervously knocked on her door.
"Come in Simon," she said softly -- which surprised me.
I entered the office, closing the door behind me. She was sitting on the leather sofa at the side of the office, instead of behind her desk, with one leg crossed over the other and holding her glasses in place as she read a file.
"Sit down," she ordered.
I sat on the chair about four yards in front of her, that had obviously been placed there for this sole purpose.
"So, Simon," she started, "there are five of you, and one will be leaving us in three months. How do you feel about that?"
"It's a shame any of us have to go Ms Jones, but I certainly hope it's not me, especially just after buying a house."
She dipped her head and her eyes looked at me above the frames of her black rimmed glasses. She stared for about ten seconds; it felt awful.
"I see," she replied, putting down her file and sitting up straight to face me, "hmmm."
She looked at me some more. Up and down, from toe to head, and from head to toe, then put her index finger against her bottom lip.
"It doesn't have to be you that goes, does it?" she reassured.
She stood up and walked to her desk, bending over to place her file on the top. She noticed me looking at her arse packed tight in her shiny black miniskirt.
She stood straight and faced me once more.
"I could promise to let you keep your job. How would you feel about that?" she asked.
"I'd love to Ms Jones, I'd love to."
"Good, let's see how much you want it," she said grinning, "lock the door."
I walked over to the door and turned the lock.
"Strip for me," I thought she said.
"What?"
"Strip, for, me," she said again.
I was at a loss at this moment. She sat back down on the sofa and crossed her legs again.
"I'm not going to say it again Simon," she said, wide eyed.
I thought about the possible negative impact of all of this, but also the possible benefits; I mean, she's unbelievably sexy, and I'm not that bad, but the thought of how this could all pan out for me made me feel very insecure about the whole thing.
I twiddled half-heartedly with my tie, and gulped.
My tie fell to the floor, resulting in Ms Jones' face lightening up with an appreciative smile. She sat back and folded her arms. I started undoing the shirt when she said:
"Just leave it undone, don't take it off."
I did as she said, and slowly kicked off my slip-on shoes.
"Socks off before the trousers," she ordered.
I did as she said without questions. Her smile grew as I started to get to the main area.
I hesitated with my trouser's belt; she looked at me intensely -- her eyes looking above her glasses, again. God it was a sexy look. I undid the belt and quickly unfastened my trousers before reason and sensibility kicked in; they fell to the floor.
"Mmmmmm," she said, looking me up and down, as I stood in my opened shirt, with my trousers to my ankles and my black lycra short shorts covering the crown Jewels.
"Take everything off except the shorts, stud," she said, adjusting her position on the sofa once more.
I did as she requested. I wasn't hard; I think I was too scared; but it was something she noticed straight away.
"I'm sitting here in front of you, and your cock is soft?" she said questioningly, "that is not good."
I wasn't sure what to do, so I started rubbing my cock through the shorts. I focused on her boots, and then her thighs, then that sexy black satin skirt; it didn't take long to get the blood pumping to my shaft. Ms Jones looked into my eyes and smiled as if she achieved something.
After a minute or so, my cock was rock hard in my shorts. The lump sticking out was comical, although laughing was the last thing I had on my mind at this time.
"Stand to the side," she said.
I did as she asked; arching my back a little to emphasise my eight inches of squashed up muscle.
"Very good." she said, leaning back and clapping her hands softly, "you're getting the hang of this."
I stood there, my dick poking at an angle in my shorts, not knowing what to do next. I turned to face her.
