The following story is fiction; it is designed to be read by adults who enjoy lesbian erotica, with elements of domination, submission and servitude. If you are not an adult, and do not enjoy that type of writing; please read no further. The story is the sole property of the author.
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Dedicated to the 'Stars Above Me'
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Chapter 1
She knew she needed something more in her life. That was the thought that she woke up to every morning, that's what she thought about as she rode the bus to work and what kept her awake at night, alone in her bed. She was never taught to strive for things beyond what she had, complacency was a virtue in her upbringing, repression and control were guideposts of her younger life. This was a woman that was universally seen by the outside world, as a diamond in the rough. Her natural beauty was hidden under a sea of beige and neutral. Her hair was restricted by buns and pins, her form disguised under shapeless unnatural fabrics. A famous sculptor was once asked how he made such beautiful art out of stone. He replied; "I just look at the stone, and take away everything that isn't beautiful". Little did the woman know, that her beauty would soon be revealed by exactly that same manner.
At twenty five years of age she was entering her sexual zenith. Her body was like a rocket stalled on a launch pad. The smallest of life's pleasures threaten to awaken her sleeping sensuality. Showerheads became magical instruments of pleasure; a warm breeze under her skirt would make her flush with excitement. Over the years, men had made advances on her and she had succumbed to some early sexual relationships, all which left her cold and unfulfilled. She knew from an early age that her desires were not being satisfied; in fact they were considered immoral and were thrust from her mind for as long as she could bear. But she never stopped looking at women however; no in fact the beauty of another woman is something she was drawn to from as early as she could remember. She had been captivated by the women on the covers of Redbook, and by the daring women who wore sleeveless dresses to church in summertime. And so it continued for most of her life, she would sit in her cubicle at her dead end job, awash in anonymity, burdened by the knowledge that there was something more out there, and frustrated by her body's unquenched thirst. Each day was a single step closer towards an inexorable conclusion; her life wasn't going to change unless she found the bravery to take a chance, she needed to look for some sliver of hope that she could hold onto... anything to help turn into the butterfly she longed to be. It was just then she heard the "Ping" from her computer's email, and an icon of an envelope indicating a new message delivered. It was a message that would deliver her the salvation she so desperately needed.
To All Employees:
Please join our ownership and management team in welcoming Bernadette Adams as the new Vice President of International Sales and Marketing. Bernadette, comes to us with a sterling resume and an extensive background in International Exports. She will be the youngest person to hold this position for our company, as her resume justified. For the past 10 years she has been stationed abroad, combing the globe for the Commodities Exchange Market, and we have been lucky enough to entice her to join our growing firm. A new management hierarchy is attached, there have been several changes in direct reports, so please be sure to review for changes that may effect you. Bernadette will be joining us tomorrow, so lets all be on our toes, and I am sure you will all make her feel most welcome.
Regards,
Andrew Milton
President
Mr. Milton didn't normally send out company emails, such an announcement would usually come from someone in HR, she thought. Ms. Adams must be someone he is very proud to of hired. She certainly sounded mysterious and successful and any break from monotony was most welcome. She wasn't sure why, but the woman felt a chill creep up her spine as she opened the Excel file of office changes. She scanned the report and suddenly felt of a mix of emotions seeing her name directly under Ms. Adams, Executive Assistant? She ran her finger down the screen one more time to make sure she had read it right, but there she was in big bold letters; Mindy Swanson -- Executive Assistant to Vice President of International Sales and Marketing. As she stared at the screen a Human Resource officer came to her cubical and began to explain to her the new position, it would come with a pay hike, she would be moved to the 10th floor and have her own desk outside Ms. Adams office. Mindy took time to take in all the information, change scared her, it always had, but she reminded herself that change is exactly what she wanted and needed. She took deep breaths as the woman told her about her new responsibilities and dress code, even though she bit her lower lip out of a nervous habit, she couldn't help but smile.
Chapter 2
The bus ride home that evening seemed to take half the normal time. Mindy stared at the scenery rushing by and hardly noticing the gradual decline from clean-lined urban office buildings to non descriptive industrial parks to the closely spaced single family homes where she lived. As she made the half mile walk home to her bungalow, Mindy began to piece together an image of Ms. Adams. She was certainly going to be successful, which meant her clothes were going to be tailored and expensive. She has been living "abroad", what ever that meant, so her tastes for fashion might be a little more eclectic then she was used to. The email said she was young, but that could really mean anything. All the vice presidents at her company were middle aged men, with paunchy bellies, receding hairlines, and were mostly in their late fifties or early sixties. So young could mean 48 or 50? None of this really mattered to Mindy; she just liked to know what she was in for. Predictability was what Mindy was used to, and it helped her to picture the mysterious Ms. Adams.
Mindy arose from a fitful sleep a full hour and a half early. She wanted to make sure she had everything just perfect for her new boss. As she stood in the shower, she ran through her clothing options for today in her mind. She was going to have to buy some new clothes soon, the secretaries on the tenth floor were always dressed much nicer than the rest of the office, and she hated to feel out of place. Mindy had to shake all these negative thoughts out of her head. She reminded herself to try and be bold, to try and think positive. As she dried her hair she looked at her reflection in the misty mirror. She took a deep breath and wiped the mirror clean to take proper inventory of the woman that stared back at her.
Her body could be best described as willowy. At 5'9" she was taller than most women she knew. Her slender frame accentuated her height. At an early age, Mindy remembered feeling gangly and awkward, now her height brought her attention, even if the eyes didn't bother to linger or take notice of the rest of her. She held her hands under her breasts and turned to look in profile. She always was proud of her breasts, the way they turned upwards, and had held their shape and firmness and of course of her nipples. Mindy had long nipples, at least they seemed long. Mindy hadn't really seen very many photos of other women's nipples, so there wasn't much to compare her self to. When she was cold, she had to walk with her arms over her chest for fear of dying of embarrassment. She ran her hands down her ribs and sides, and admired her skin tone. The first man Mindy had slept with told her that he was shocked how nice her body was, and that she had the frame of a swimmer. She liked that, and always admired her long flat tummy as a result of it. Mindy had heard of women shaving their pubic region, but never really saw the point of it. God put hair there for a reason, and she liked her full blonde muff of fur. It was pale and yellow gold, just as her hair on her head was. As she combed her long blonde hair she had a thought, and proceeded to dig under her sink for her curling iron. She found it behind the economy package of tissues. It was an old hand-me-down, and was stained from non-use. She never let her hair down, and certainly never curled it.