The Queen Of Marketing

Christy was livid. She paced back and forth in her office, replaying the events of the meeting in her mind. Fucking James. He'd always been an insufferable prick, but now he was putting her team at risk.

Pausing by the window, she tried to allow the familiar view of downtown to calm her. Dark clouds rolled overhead. Neon signs and streetlights reflected in the wet streets. Cars slowly crossed the bridge. She could be heading home, too, if it weren't for him.

Last week, Frank, the CEO, asked the department heads to prepare a twenty percent budget cut across the board. At first, she'd been concerned, but her plan was solid. A reduction to the Marketing team's ad spend, some cost-cutting, and a few layoffs. Going into the meeting today, she'd felt confident.

One by one, they'd gone around the table and somberly delivered proposals. Sales. Human Resources. Operations. No one wanted to let people go, but they all recognized the necessity. When Frank called on Marketing, she'd proudly done her duty.

Then he turned to James and asked for the Engineering team's plan.

"Can't do it, Frank," he said shamelessly. "I'm already short-staffed and underfunded. Engineering's a finely tuned engine. I can't just start cutting, it'll fall apart."

The room fell silent. The other department heads looked shocked.

"James, come on," Frank sighed. "No one's happy about it, but this is serious."

"Hey, I get it." He raised his hands helplessly. "But this is a

product

company. No devs, no product."

"Be realistic, man. What's your proposal?"

"Take it from Marketing."

All eyes turned to Christy.

Carl, the VP of Sales--a thick-necked man in an ill-fitting suit--stifled a laugh. James grinned at him.

"Is this a joke to you?" She frowned. Carl had the decency to look chastened, but James just crossed his arms.

"No joke," he said. "Your department's always been overfunded. Find some more fat to trim."

"We already cut twenty percent, which puts our metrics at risk. Your team has the largest budget of the company by far!"

"Engineering has the largest budget for a reason. I need staff to build all the new features you put in ads without consulting me!"

"Our campaigns are drawn up months in advance! You decline every meeting invite, then have the nerve to say you weren't consulted?"

"Oh,

here

we go. The 'Queen of Marketing' assumes everyone should be at her beck and call!"

"My title," Christy growled, "is vice president. It shouldn't be hard to remember, it's the same as yours."

"It's not the same!" James scoffed. "I'm the VP of

Engineering

. Without my team, the company folds. Without

your

team..."

"This is a budget crisis, you can't just refuse to..."

"If

your highness

would ever care to descend from the seventeenth floor, you'd see my devs struggling with outdated equipment, facing ridiculous demands..."

"That's

enough

!" Frank threw up his hands in frustration. "I can't listen to this anymore." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's been a long day, and I'm exhausted. You two, stay. Everybody else, go home."

James and Christy glared at each other as the other department heads filed out.

"You will work together," Frank said, raising a hand to cut off their objections, "and bring me a budget for

both

your teams that meets the overall reduction goal. I don't care if it takes all night. Have it on my desk in the morning."

"Fine," James snarled. "I'll be in my office. It's on the third floor, in case your highness has forgotten where the

real

work gets done." He stormed out.

"Frank, you can't be serious," she protested.

"I know James can be difficult. But we need him." He clapped her on the shoulder. "I also know you have a real knack for problem-solving. I trust you'll find a way to resolve this."

An hour later, she was glaring out the window in her office. Typical. Succeeding as a woman meant having to do your job twice as well as the men, and for a reward, you got to do their jobs, too.

How the hell was she going to get James to do his part? There was no reasoning with someone so convinced of his superiority. He'd never admit he was wrong because he couldn't handle the humiliation. He'd dig in until someone forced him to change.

Her eyes flicked to the garment bag hanging on the coat rack.

Someone with more confidence and power.

She unzipped the bag, and ran a fingernail over the black leather.

Someone who could show him how pathetic he really was.

"Come in," James called when she knocked.

She stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"What's with the long coat?" He sneered. "You ready to head home? Gonna give up and admit I was right?"

"Hardly," she responded, looking around his office disapprovingly. It was decorated like a dorm room. Shelves of tech gear of all sorts. Posters and printouts of comics plastered on the walls, peppered with nerdy stickers. Everything about the space was designed to make non-geeks feel out of place.

"In that case, welcome to where the magic happens." His office chair was one of those ridiculous gamer chairs, red leather with cupholders and a headrest. "Have a seat," he added, gesturing to an ugly couch that looked like he'd dragged it in off the street.

"You humiliated me today, you know." She said it calmly, hands in her coat pockets.

"Well, if the Queen can't hack it in the boardroom, that's just another reason to cut your team."

"Hmm," she nodded slowly. "I thought you'd say something like that."

She turned to his windows, facing the warren of cubicles that filled the rest of the floor. Despite the hour, there were still several devs out there. As she walked through, they were all playing video games or browsing social media. No one looked up as she closed the blinds.

James looked confused when she locked the door, but before he could say something snarky, she opened her coat.

His jaw dropped as he took in what she was wearing. Glossy black heels. Thigh-highs and garters paired with a mesh thong. Long black gloves that ended above the elbow. Her black leather corset left her breasts exposed, including a metal bar pierced through each nipple.

"You see, James, I know your type." Ignoring his dumbfounded expression, she calmly draped her coat over a trolley filled with monitors. "A

small

man who gets off on lording his knowledge over others."

She sauntered around his desk, allowing her hips to sway, punctuating her words. He swiveled to face her, eyes wide as she stood over him. "You play your petty games and throw your childish tantrums because you believe you are better than your peers." It was hard to say if he was more shocked by her outfit, or the way she carried herself while wearing it. "You assume the rules don't apply to you."

"No, I--I, uh, that is..." He abruptly stood up and backed away from her, desperate to regain control of the situation, but unable to think straight. She followed him around the desk until he collapsed onto the couch.

"You think you are special," she sneered, putting her foot against his crotch. "But when push comes to shove," she pressed down hard, as if grinding out a cigarette butt, "you'll collapse at my feet."

"Ah, fuck!" He whimpered pathetically, too overwhelmed to resist. "Your heel... That hurts!"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes! Shit!"

"What do you say?"

"Please!"

She relaxed the pressure just a bit.

"When you speak, you'll address me properly. Use my title."

"Vice president!"

"Hmm," she considered. "No, not here. In this context, I think you know what you should call me."

"Q--Queen?" He looked afraid to say it, fearing a trap.

"Yes." She took her foot away. "That's fitting."

"What, um, what do you want?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"Queen! What do you want, um, Queen?"

"Better." She turned her back and walked to his office chair. She grimaced as she sat down. It was stupidly uncomfortable, but claiming his throne was a message so clear even he would understand. "Start by taking off your clothes."

He looked surprised. Before he could get the wrong idea, she gestured dismissively.

"Don't get excited, I have no interest in your pathetic body or flaccid prick. You simply haven't earned the right to wear clothes around me yet."

"Yet? Uh, Queen?" He quickly removed his tie, dropped his clothes in the corner, and stood awkwardly in front of her, covering himself.

"Yes. From now on, anytime I'm forced to be in your presence, unless other people are around, you will remain nude. Now, stop trying to cover yourself and kneel."

He swallowed nervously, and lowered himself to his knees. His cock twitched nervously, still soft, but threatening to grow. She refrained from smiling at just how quickly he'd surrendered total control to her.

Her heart was pounding. He had no way of knowing, but this was the first time she'd ever acted on this fantasy.

She had a ritual. Before every department head meeting, she locked her office door and changed into this outfit. Then she masturbated while imagining the men kneeling and worshipping her. It gave her a secret, and more than once a man had backed down from a conflict, unable to face the odd confidence in her eyes.

Not James, of course. He'd always been oblivious. But now here he was, groveling before her for real! The rush of power left her practically breathless.

"You may remove my heels," she announced, as though she were bestowing a great privilege upon him.

He slipped them off and moved as though to toss them aside as carelessly as he'd discarded his clothing. But seeing her expression, he set them to one side with more reverence.

"Good. Open your mouth."

He hesitated a moment before parting his lips. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her nylon-covered foot. He looked pathetic as she rubbed it against his face, before finally pushing her toes into his mouth.

"Now,

suck

."

He frowned, but wrapped his lips around her big toe. It was awkward around the nylon, but she pushed deeper. He gagged a little, but swirled his tongue dutifully. His obedience caused a surge of heat between her thighs.

Fucking hell, she loved telling him what to do. Not wanting to get too worked up too quickly, she withdrew her toes. He scowled and looked away, flushed with humiliation as he wiped the drool from his mouth.

Before he could react, she leaned forward and slapped him.

"Wipe that scowl off your face! I'm doing you a favor. By rights, I should

destroy

you. Do you realize how easily I could convince Frank to finally cut your worthless ass loose and hire a real man to replace you? After a few calls to my network, you'd be toxic. No one would hire you again."

He rubbed his cheek, trying to determine if her threat was genuine. She allowed him to see the steel in her eyes.

"You've

badly

misread the situation here. You saw me as a weak-willed little woman to push around. Now, you understand the truth. You continue to have a role here only because I choose to allow it."

She saw the final spark of defiance die inside him. It sent a thrill down her spine.

"I think there's something you should say, don't you, James?"

"Um," he stammered. "Th--Thank you, Queen."

"Hmm. I'll say this, you're a quick learner."

He nodded, suddenly eager to please.

"Okay," she purred, leaning back and spreading her thighs. "You may continue."

The sight of him kissing his way up her legs was deeply arousing. She hissed with pleasure as she pulled on the bars in her nipples. His lips reached the top of her thigh-highs, brushing against her bare skin. Eagerly, she pulled her thong to one side, and spread her lips for him.

He paused at the sight of her bare pussy, dripping with excitement. He glanced up at her, and she nodded.

"Do it," she commanded.

He closed his eyes and lowered his face between her thighs. She bit her lip as he ran his tongue along the length of her. Timidly, he explored, barely dipping between her lips. He traced her folds and contours, hesitantly prodding, either unable or unwilling to commit fully. She growled with frustration as he circled her opening again and again without ever entering.

"Don't waste my time," she warned, grabbing a fistful of his hair and mashing his face more firmly against her. He yelped in surprise, but finally, she felt him push inward. "Yes, like that," she murmured, "deeper."

Heart pounding, she rested her feet on his back, startled by how turned on she was. He wasn't particularly skilled, but the power dynamic itself made her insides clench. She tugged harder on his hair, demanding more. He let out surprised little moans every time she squeezed around his tongue. She rubbed his nose against her clit, using his face like a toy.

"Don't stop," she groaned, "don't you dare stop." He gasped wetly for breath, but she continued fucking his face. He grabbed her thighs, and she swatted his hands away. So many times, she'd imagined the sneering men in her life groveling at her feet, begging for the privilege of servicing her. Now it was happening.

She felt an orgasm approaching. It was absurd. She hated him. Found everything about his personality repugnant. But the way he submitted to her, allowed her to use him for her pleasure, left her quivering.

Her core clenched, and he sputtered as she gushed in his mouth. She kept her grip on his hair, forcing him to swallow. She groaned loudly enough to wonder if his staff could hear. He continued to work his tongue until she finally had to push him away when it became too much.

He rocked back, gasping for breath. She squeezed her thighs shut around her hand, pressing against her clit as aftershocks rippled through her core. He stared at her, awestruck, her wetness glistening on his chin.

She was so overwhelmed by the situation that it took her a long moment to realize he was frantically stroking his cock. Clearly, she wasn't the only one turned on by his submission. His cockhead was swollen, and so dark red it was nearly purple. He stared wantonly at her as he masturbated.

"What. The fuck. Do you think? You're doing." She sat up and glared at him.

He startled, glancing down at his swollen prick, as if he hadn't realized he was touching it. Quickly, he let go, and looked up at her with the same expression as a dog caught digging through the trash. His cock still throbbed desperately. As she watched, a large drop of precum leaked from the tip and fell to the floor.

"Did I give you permission to touch yourself?" She got to her feet, adjusting her underwear back into place.

"No, Queen!"

"Then why are you rubbing your sad excuse for a cock at me?"

"I'm sorry, Queen, I... I just... I didn't think..."

"That's right, you didn't think. You never do." She glowered at him, hands on her hips.

He looked absurd. The hangdog expression on his face was completely at odds with the eager twitching of his cock.

"I'm not here for your sexual gratification, you fucking worm! You are

beneath

me. Unworthy of me. If you so much as have a wet dream about me, you'd better wake up and beg forgiveness!"

"Yes, Queen!"

"If you're unable to control yourself in the future, you'll need to be restrained. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Queen."

She put her foot on his shoulder and forcefully pushed him backward until he lay on his back on the rough carpet. It looked uncomfortable, but his erection still jutted hopefully upward.

"I think you've forgotten that I have a job to do."

He looked up at her, utterly bewildered. Her domination was so complete that he'd forgotten the reason she'd come to his office in the first place.

"The budget, James."

"Oh! Right... Queen?" A reminder of their professional roles while lying nude on the floor was clearly confusing.

"How much can Engineering cut?" As she asked, she put her foot on his cock. It throbbed eagerly, mistaking the stimulation as sexual.

"I... I can't... We need--ah!"

He cried out as she pressed down hard. It twitched once, and another squirt of precum drooled out.

"Fifteen--oh god!--Fifteen percent, Queen?"

"That's a good start, James, but I think you can do better." She ground her heel mercilessly against the base of his cock.

"Twenty! Twenty percent, Queen!" He groaned and squirmed, clawing at the carpet.

"That's good, James, I'm glad we could reach... Oh, for fuck's sake!" As soon as she removed her foot, his cock started spraying cum all over his stomach. He whimpered and writhed as he climaxed uncontrollably.

"You really are fucking worthless, aren't you?"

"Yes," he panted. "Yes, Queen".

Shaking her head, she stepped into her heels, and put on her coat.

"Clean yourself up. I expect your budget proposal before you go home tonight."