[Author's note: Hector is married to Lotte, with whom he has signed a slave contract to become her 24/7 submissive. Lotte has previously outsourced her husband's training to her best friend Bea, who has demonstrated a hidden aptitude for dominance that belies her softer, happy-go-lucky nature.
Hector thought a slave life was what he wanted. Lotte's definition of a Female-Led Relationship is more developed. Bea's divorce is still fresh on her mind. When you give up control, where can it lead?
This story contains themes of female domination, male slavery and degradation.]
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OFFICE POLITICS
Hector was earlier than usual into the office, and found himself sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, alone. After a moment of reflection, he hauled himself up and went in search of the dire-tasting coffee that would be available in the break room. It would counteract the deep weariness of having spent the night on the floor, and also give his growling, empty stomach something to do.
He downed the first cup and decided on another, finding a packet of crackers in the cupboard. Smiling at his luck, he brought them back to his desk, munching them. Only afterwards, he checked the best before date on the packet and discovered they were six months out of date.
The office filled up gradually, and he exchanged greetings with colleagues, trying to sound normal, as if this was just another Monday morning and Hector had been enjoying just another weekend, the same old same old. The fact that his rear was tender from his wife's attentions, or that he was wearing his wife's used lingerie under his clothes, or that he'd spent the weekend naked and at the mercy of the two women in his life, none of that needed to be exposed to the people around him. He kept his head down and started work on the car fleet insurance report that had been on his desk since last Wednesday. Just focus on the work, just get it all done and go home. Try not to fuck up.
"Morning Heck."
Hector nearly sprang up from his chair in surprise. Bea was peeking over the desk partition, smiling happily at him. His mind raced: she'd called him Heck, so could he call her Bea, or was it Ma'am? Or worse, Mistress? How would she make him address her at work? He took a chance.
"Hi Bea."
"Did you have a good weekend?"
Hector blinked at her, struggling to form a coherent response. The images flashed up in his head: Bea feeding him scraps, the taste of her pussy on his tongue, the look she gave him as she'd chained him up, and that last one, the one that made him shiver: the feeling of burying his manhood deep inside her.
"Good weekend?" she prompted, grinning now at his discomfort.
"Yeah, uh... okay I guess... yeah, good," Hector mumbled.
Bea flashed him a smile and continued on her way. He watched her disappear into Claire's office, now her office, the boss's office. She was wearing a crisp, white shirt and a smart grey knee-length skirt with low heels. He caught a glimpse of her perfectly rounded rear as the office door shut.
He finished his second coffee, feeling a little less sorry for himself now, looking at the time. People were gathering together in the big meeting room and he joined them, taking a seat like he did every Monday morning for the all-team meeting. This time, however, it wouldn't be Claire running the meeting. She was now in her secondment elsewhere in the company. She'd handed her job over to Bea to act in her place, giving Bea authority over everyone around the table, including him.
Bea bustled into the room, smiling at everyone and then taking the seat at the head of the long table.
"Thanks for coming. I hope you all had a good weekend. Shall we start with a round-the-room?"
Bea was one of the youngest people in the meeting, but she projected an air of calm authority, like she'd been in the role for years. Hector watched as, one by one, each person gave their summary, treating Bea like the boss. He was aware of eyes on him as it neared his turn to speak.
Technically, it should have been Hector sitting in that seat, and Bea sitting where he was. Bea should have been one of the people giving the updates. Hector had seniority and he knew the job backwards. Claire had passed him over though when she went on her secondment, leaving Bea in charge, dashing Hector's chance of a promotion. It had been a hard pill for him to swallow, having his best friend, the person he'd brought into the business, suddenly his boss.
Hector had been struggling to separate the jealousy he felt at Bea getting the recognition instead of him, from the long friendship between the two of them. After the previous few days, having been loaned out to Bea by his wife for slave training, he now had to somehow lay that aside too. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the stiffness in his neck from a combination of the tension and having been made to sleep on the carpet all night.
"Heck, you good?" Bea asked.
Hector blinked, looking around. People were watching him.
"Zoned out there a sec?" she continued.
"No, it's all fine. Uh, the insurance quotes should be done today, then I'm going to move onto the new fleet requisition orders."
"Good," Bea replied, giving him a smile.
She moved on to the next person and he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Talking to Bea made him nervous. He was afraid of what she was going to say. It was a complete reversal from their dynamic when she'd first joined, with Hector being the one telling Bea what to do, as the more experienced team member.
The meeting broke up and they all filed out. Bea was watching him, but Hector made a dash for the door. The last thing he needed was a conversation with the woman who had taken control of him so effortlessly. He needed space to just get his job done, today. He didn't need to be reminded that he'd been forbidden from all relief, standing next to the cute, petite blonde woman who had become part of his torture. It would just make it so much worse, standing next to her in her shapely skirt, remembering how her juices had tasted in his mouth only twelve hours previously.
"Heck."
He froze. Bea walked up to him.
"Heck, anything you want to discuss? I have a few minutes for a one-on-one."
"I, uh, no. All good."
"Clearly it isn't. You were just staring into the distance there. What's on your mind?"
Hector shrugged reluctantly, and replied, "You already know. Everything's on my mind."
"Okay."
Her words were simple, but her expression told him otherwise. Her posture changed subtly, and Hector felt himself becoming more attentive and deferential. He was astonished by the way that a mere straightening of this woman's shoulders was enough to cow him into submission.
"You need to let it go, slave. Everything has already been discussed with your Mistress. You need to leave the thinking to your betters, it's easier for you that way. Oh, and the toilets are by permission only. See me if you need to relieve yourself."
"What?" he hissed, "You're not serious."
"Insubordination."
Hector's jaw snapped shut, stifling the words that were about to come out. Bea had changed in the blink of an eye, no longer his friend, or even just his boss. Now she was his owner, controlling even the most basic functions of his body. Worse, she was doing it in the office he'd worked in for years. He wanted to protest, to try and make Bea see, but as he stared at her pretty face, she gave him a coy smile that told him that she knew exactly what she was doing. Bea had him exactly where she wanted him now, obedient and under her thumb.
"You may go, slave. That's all I needed you for."
She turned away, getting out her phone and tapping out a message, dismissing him. Hector eyed her screen warily.
"Uh, what's that, uh, Mistress?"
"None of your business. You really need to stop thinking for yourself. I'm doing your thinking for you now."
She lowered the phone.
"But, since you asked, I'm just keeping your owner up to date. That's a demerit for subordination, on top of your earlier disrespect at home. Quite a rap sheet to be dealt with tonight, isn't it? Now, get to work, slave, unless you want me to add to it."
Hector's face flushed, but Bea brushed past him. He had to take a minute to compose himself before walking out onto the office floor after what would have looked like a dressing down from the petite blonde woman who was now quite literally in control of his life. He slunk back to his desk and tried to concentrate on his work, but inevitably, the coffee worked its way through his system. He held on for an hour, but biology was always going to win out. He endured another bladder cramp and made the decision to go and find Bea.
She wasn't on the floor, and her office door was closed. Hector hesitated in front of it and then knocked.
"Come in."
He opened the door to find Bea behind her desk. Jake was sitting on the other side, and it was clear that he'd interrupted their meeting.
"I'm free at half past, unless it's urgent?" Bea said, guileless.
"I, uh, yeah it could get to be urgent," Hector replied.
Jake gave him a puzzled look. Hector shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. Bea gave him a sweet smile: she'd worked it out.
"If it's about being allowed a toilet break, you have permission," Bea said.
Hector paled, his eyes darting from Bea to Jake. He couldn't believe that Bea had said it, revealing her control in front of another person. She had just publicly humiliated him. Then, she laughed. Jake laughed too.
"Seriously, do you want to catch up? I've got a slot at eleven-thirty."
"No, all good," Hector replied quickly. That sounded close enough to permission.
He gave them both a little nod and then closed the door, hurrying towards the toilets. Jake had laughed, but at Bea's joke. He was safe. It was all okay. He found a stall and closed the door, pulling down his jeans and sitting on the toilet. Hector stared down at the burgundy satin triangle covering his crotch, the curious flatness of the space between his legs, then the stocking tops. It was like looking down at a girl. He shuddered, and pulled the g-string down to reveal the plastic casing that kept his manhood tightly under control. His compressed, tiny wiener, as Lotte had described it. Leaning forward and aiming very carefully, he let his bladder go, conscious of the tiny hole in the plastic over his tip, mercifully unplugged by the steel pin while at work.
It sounded just like Lotte sounded on the toilet, reinforcing in his mind what she was doing to him. Why had he gone along with it, and put on her lingerie? It had been stunning on her slim, lithe body, but it didn't have the same effect on his. He ran a thumb along the top of a stocking, feeling the friction of the semi-translucent hose. He had to get a grip. Lotte had already planted too many seeds inside his head; turning her husband into a girl was one step too far. She had already taken control of his manhood: he wasn't going to also give her his masculinity.
Hector dabbed the tiny hole in the plastic casing with a square of toilet paper and then pulled the g-string back up into place. He stood, zipping himself up. His own wife wanted to feminise him, to strip away the last stubborn vestiges of his male ego, to reshape his self-image into something she wanted him to be. They were a long way from playing anymore.
Hector had the uneasy feeling that he was on a rollercoaster heading for a drop and if he didn't reset now, there would come a point when it was too late to stop the ride. The fact that the lingerie made him feel so weird and off-kilter was a warning sign. The fact that he could have stripped it all off as soon as he'd gotten into work but he hadn't, that was another sign. He washed his hands and returned to his desk.
Bea's door was closed all morning, rolling from one meeting to the next, so when lunch came Hector was able to retire to the break room alone. People were eating, but he made himself another coffee, anything to stave off his growling stomach. He was about to leave when Bea appeared at the door. She beamed at him and Hector's heart sank.
"So glad I caught you, Heck. I've been flat out, I'm starving."
"I was just going back," Hector replied quickly.
"But, have you eaten yet?"
"No."
The break room was emptying out, leaving the two of them alone.
"Then, sit with me," Bea said.
"Is that a request, or an order?"
Bea's smile dipped, and she replied, "Whatever you want it to be, Heck."
She'd used his actual name twice now, so they were supposed to be on familiar terms. Her body language was different also, not stiff and precise anymore, the poise of his Mistress giving way to the casualness of his friend. Reluctantly, he sat back down. Bea brought a container out of the fridge and popped it in the microwave. A delicious aroma began to fill the break room.
"I love when you cook such nice things for me. You're a really good cook."
The microwave pinged and she bought the steaming container over to the table and sat opposite him.
"Thai chicken curry," she murmured, taking off the lid.
Hector salivated, watching enviously as she spooned a portion into her mouth. She looked up at him.
"Not eating?" she asked.
"Eating what, exactly?"
"Uh, lunch. It's lunchtime."
