Femdom Co Workers

Co-workers begin a journey of female domination.

This female domination story contains graphic details of sadism and masochism, including post orgasm torture. It is entirely fictional and completely my own work.

Please DO NOT read any further if you do not enjoy fictional stories in which males submit to dominant females, either willingly, forcible, or by coercion

Please DO NOT read if you think that stories like this should end up with the male taking control and beating or fucking the female - If that's your bag, this story is not for you.

Please DO NOT read if you don't like the idea of post orgasm torture performed on a male.

Please DO read further if you want to know how a new dom/sub relationship develops between two willing co-workers.

If you like this story, please vote and comment - it helps to marginalise the nasty comments from Trolls, of which, sadly, there are many!

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CO-WORKERS

Emma often wondered if she would have married Neil if she'd met Jacob a few years earlier. Her husband was handsome and charming and she loved him in a way, but he was successful and driven; dedicated to his career in a way that left very little space for her. On the rare occasions that they were intimate, Neil was not selfish, but he ignored her subtle hints towards her own fantasies, and after years of courtship and then marriage, he had not once given Emma the freedom to take control. For her part, Emma was not entirely blameless for her lack of fulfilment - after years of dating men who looked stupid when she tried to take the lead, she had pushed her fantasies to a dark corner of her mind, and took whatever direction her then-lover suggested, dutifully adopting the missionary or doggy positions so that they could take their pleasure. But Emma's fantasies liked the dark, and, far from withering away, grew stronger and more vibrant in that corner of her mind.

She first met Jacob when she started working for McMattle, a consumer-research and 'think tank' organisation, quartered in affluential Mayfair. As peers, each with a small team of researchers situated in offices around the globe, they shared a cosy office, sitting opposite each other in a small room that was probably once a boxroom in the Georgian house that McMattle now occupied. He was fun and easy to talk to, helped her to get quickly onboarded with the company, and was generally good company. He was also handsome, to her eye - an odd fusion of chiselled chin and puppy-dog eyes that she somehow found compelling. The attraction was mutual - her broad mouth, high cheek bones and double dimples, her long strawberry blonde hair, her curvaceous body and large breasts were all attractive, but it was her emerald green eyes that allured him the most - there was a wickedness in them, a cheek, a rudeness that fascinated him. It seemed wrong that they could be so luminous, so brazen and so bold. From the first day they met, they spent much of their time peering around their monitors, chatting about anything and everything.

Best of all, for Emma, was the fact that she somehow got the impression that he liked dominant women - there were no overt signals at first, no sudden, cathartic admission of his sexual subservience, but there were subtle hints here and there. If Emma spoke to him abruptly, Jacob would jokingly answer with "Yes Mistress...", not 'Miss', or 'Ma'am', but 'Mistress', and if he cocked up a spreadsheet on PowerPoint, he would sometimes suggest he needed a spanking. They laughed these little quips off, but Emma became increasingly convinced that there was a truth behind Jacob's humour - a secret waiting to be confessed.

Over time, Emma began to fantasise that Jacob was submissive to her - not in a business hierarchical sort of way, but personally and privately. She imagined him on his knees below her desk, worshipping her pussy while she took an important business call, or standing naked in the corner after making some minor error, risking the humiliation of another employee coming in to find him there. Sometimes she would take her knickers off, sit with her formal skirt hitched up around her waist and her legs spread wide beneath her desk, and thrill at the risk that he might one day drop a pen, and spy her pussy - hairy and wet and gaping before him. On more than one occasion she stuffed her knickers into his coffee cup before pouring on the boiling water, stirring them around before fetching them out with a spoon, then adding the milk and coffee granules. She watched him drink his coffee and asked if he was enjoying it.

During the first few months of Emma's employment there was a growing sense of attraction and a steady positioning of her as the dominant partner. She looked at him more and more as though she wanted to devour him, and became a little condescending and bossy. He responded with a bashful, submissive demeanour, and seemed to go out of his way to find tasks that he could do to support her with her role.

Then, one day, just as Emma was closing files and preparing to leave the office, she spotted a minor formula error in a spreadsheet that Jacob had co-written with her. "Oh dear, spank me!" he said absentmindedly.

Emma peered around her monitor.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" she asked.

He caught his breath and immediately blushed.

"There's no point trying to deny it Jacob." she continued, her heart beginning to pound in her chest, "You'd like to get spanked, wouldn't you?"

Jacob looked at her and slowly, bravely, said, "Yes Emma. I would."

Her mouth spread into a wide, dimpled smile and her green eyes twinkled under the fluorescent strips.

"You'd like to get spanked by ME, wouldn't you?"

Jacob looked beside himself with embarrassment; his face was red and his chest had begun to tremble ever-so-slightly. His eyes looked like those of a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights.

"Yes Mistress, I would." he said, quietly.

Emma took a moment to compose herself. She wanted to appear calm and cool with no hint of the butterflies in her stomach. "Finish the Richardson report and I might make that happen." she said, with a confident, wry smile. Then she stood up, plucked her coat from the coat stand, and turned to leave the room. "Oh, and don't go home until it's done." she added.

Jacob did not dare to say anything more, but immediately set to work fixing the formula error and completing the Richardson report. Emma went directly to the toilet, locked herself into a cubicle, and fervently rubbed her clitoris until she was doubled over on the toilet, shaking from her orgasm. In the morning, she found the completed Richardson report in her inbox - he had stayed until 11pm to get it done before he went home.

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THE CONFERENCE

Emma did not spank Jacob the next day, or any time soon afterwards; the opportunity did not arise. She had resolved not to embark on an extra-marital affair with Jacob, and Jacob, himself, could not pluck-up the courage to ask her around to his tiny flat in Fulham. The sexual tension between them continued to grow however, and short conversations about what she might do to him began to pervade their everyday banter. She picked up on every possible double entendre, and twisted what he meant by it, giving it a sexual connotation and making him feel uncomfortable.

One day, Jacob made the mistake of declaring that he was going to the toilet. Emma stood up immediately and positioned herself in front of the office door, blocking his exit. "Sit down," she said, "I want you to wait." Jacob complied immediately, and Emma would not let him go to relieve himself for another hour, by which time he was grimacing and fidgeting around on his chair. She watched him wriggle, and made him ask for permission before she finally authorised his relief.

In June, McMattle held a global conference and all managerial employees travelled to Budapest to attend. The conference theme was 'global expansion' and there was a buzz amongst the attendees, driven by the exciting news that the expansion would present plenty of new opportunities for development and career progression. The optimism fuelled high spirits in the bar at night, the drinks flowed, and Emma finally resolved that she would have a piece of Jacob.

She messaged him; 'Where RU?'

'I'm in the back bar with Colin and Rosemay.'

'Go to your room.'

Emma continued to enthusiastically chat with boisterous fellow-workers at the bar, sipping her Mojito, joking and laughing, but as Jacob walked by on his way to his room she locked eyes with him and starred him down until he looked away with embarrassment. She stayed in the bar for another fifty minutes before she made her excuses, kissed her drunken colleagues good night, and made her way to Jacob's room.

When Jacob opened his door, she stepped in, uninvited. He opened his mouth to speak but she immediately silenced him with two fingers on his lips. Without a word, she walked straight past him and into the main area of his room. She pointed to the floor beside his bed and he immediately knelt, facing the bed so that she could sit before him. She remained standing, looked at him with a stern, dissatisfied glare, and rotated her finger in a circular pattern to bid him to turn around. He did so immediately so that he sat on his bottom with his back against the side of the bed. His cock was already hard, bulging against the confines of his trousers and boxers.

Silently, Emma stood before him and hitched her grey business skirt up, hooked her fingers into the sides of her knickers, and pulled them down to her feet. Despite the fact that she was a married woman, and that this was just a business trip, she had chosen to wear black lace panties with rose embroidery, and a narrow crotch. She re-hitched her skirt high up around her waist, exhibiting her naked, messy haired, blonde crotch to him, then she stepped forward, placed her legs either side of him, and bent her knees to lower herself onto his face. He parted his lips and extended his tongue as her hairy, wet crotch touched down on his mouth and he was enveloped by her sex. Her musky, perfumey scent and taste invaded his mouth and nose.

Without a word, she began to grind her sex on him, holding his head in her hands and rubbing her wet crotch up and down his face, over his chin and mouth, nose and eyes. She ground hard, using the contours of his face to stimulate her clitoris and stretch her sodden hole. Her knees were bent, yet she still moved to her tiptoes, the haunched position was awkward and uncomfortable, but to fuck his face like this - to pin him against the bed with her weight - to be a female crushing down on the face of a poor male, only heightened her lust and lubricated her more. She used his face, continually reminded herself to pay no attention to his discomfort, and humped him brutally, selfishly pushing herself on towards her orgasm. This was the first time she had ever really dominated a man - taken control and selfishly pleased herself, used him as a tool, claimed her right to sexually dominate. The thought spurred her on, made her feel whorish and brazen. For the first time, the depravity of her fantasies felt good, not something to be ashamed of, but something that defined her as a sexual being. She thought of her husband, and about what a filthy, dirty wanton whore of a wife she was. 'I AM a dominatrix' she thought to herself, 'I AM on top, I AM a goddess....'

She tensed, her hips and knees locked solid, her vagina pressed hard on his obliging tongue and her clitoris crushed against the ball of his nose, her fingers tore his hair, she moaned loudly and unashamedly, then bucked hard against his face as her orgasm shook her, riding the waves of her pleasure and playing them out on his battered face until she was satisfied and exhausted.

Emma straightened herself up. Seeing his sodden face directly below her, she could not help but to let a fat glob of spit pour from her hot mouth and into his eyes, then she rested for a moment as he obediently waited below her.

Eventually she breathed deeply, smoothed her skirt down, swept the tussled hair from her face, and stepped back. She took her stilettoed foot and placed it on Jacob's groin. His cock was still stiff within his suit trousers.

"Give me thirty pounds for my knickers." she said.

"In my jacket pocket." he answered with a trembling voice.

She took his leather wallet from the pocket inside his suit jacket, plucked three £10 notes from it, threw the wallet on the bed, and left him alone to take care of himself with her lace panties.

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THE APPLICATION

Work could not return to normal after the conference. Emma tried to make herself feel guilty about her desires to dominate a man outside of her marriage, but the thought of adultery only made her feel dirtier and therefore hornier. She longed to torment Jacob in his little flat in Fulham, but it was so difficult to find a reason to be away from home in the evenings that she visited him there only once. She let free the fantasies that she had confined to the corner of her mind, and began to obsess about what she could do to this man who was under her spell. She dreamt of spanking him with her hand or with a hairbrush that she actually bought for just that reason, she wanted to tug at his balls, give him cold showers, and roughly finger his ass, she longed to make him worship her body, suckling her breasts or lapping at her clitoris. Most of all she fantasised that her pleasure would be paramount; he would cum sometimes, but only either incidentally, or for her amusement. She intended that many times she would leave him unsatiated and frustrated.

In the world outside of her head, Emma continued to dominate Jacob. She finally had him service her below her desk, and stayed late one evening so that she could make him stand naked in the corner for thirty minutes. One day she presented him with a cup of coffee with her knickers gently circling in it. "Drink it up." she ordered. He did as he was told then, when he had finished, she demanded £30 for the soaked and stained panties. The knickers were plain cotton, the type he thought she might get in a pack of 3 for £8 from Marks and Spencers, but he gave her £30 anyway.

Two months after the Budapest conference, the new organisational structure was announced. Emma and Jacob would be grouped with two other team managers, based in Paris, and one of them would take control of the other three, but that leadership role would also be based in Paris. Emma immediately told Jacob to apply for the leadership role.

"But I don't speak French," he protested, "and I don't want to work in Paris... and we won't see each other every day..."

"Apply for the job Jacob." she said, forcefully, "It will give me an excuse to be in Paris once a month, and I want to fuck my boss."

After all this time, they had still only had penetrative sex once; that one afternoon in his cramped flat. He longed for her to ride him, to grab his chest as she bounced on his cock, and to spit in his face again, but he would not openly agree to Emma's demand. So, after a week of failed persuasion, Emma ordered him to work late. They stayed long into the evening, hours after the rest of the staff had gone home and the night security guard had settled-in behind the reception desk. When Emma was certain that they wouldn't be disturbed, she sauntered around to Jacob's desk, taking with her an A4 envelope, and stood behind his revolving chair. She pushed him forward so that he was trapped tight against the desk.

"I want you to apply for the role in Paris," she said.

"Emma, I can't! I'd be useless in a foreign city..."

"Shush!" She ordered. She opened the envelope and drew out several large, red cable ties, then she took his right hand, pulled it behind the back of the chair, looped a tie around his wrist and ratcheted it closed. Then she looped another tie through that, and secured it to the stem that supported his backrest.

"I've told you that I want to fuck my boss. I want a manager whom I can abuse, who'll eat my pussy when I tell him to, who'll give me five-star performance reviews twice a year. I want a boss who'll grovel at me feet, and I want that boss to be you, Jacob."

"Yes Emma!, I want that too, but I really don't want to move to Paris."

She pulled his left arm behind the chair and secured it with cable ties in the same way.

"It took me a long time to find you Jacob... I'm not going to give up on my fantasies now. There are things I want to do to you and we need time and space for that."

"I want that so much too Emma! I really do... I fantasize about it... but I'll be hopeless in Paris!"

She wheeled his chair backwards, leaving a couple of feet between him and the desk, then she walked around him and turned to face him. She undid the little fabric-covered buttons on the side of her grey, formal skirt, and let it slip over her hips and down onto the floor, revealing broad, red, lace panties with a high waistline. She bent forward and slipped them down her legs, stepped out of them, and dangled them before him. Then she held him by the chin, squeezed his cheeks tightly so that he was forced to open his mouth, and stuffed the warm lace into his wet hole. Her knickers were voluminous, and filled his mouth. They tasted of washing powder, sweat and wet cunt.

Emma knelt before him, took more cable ties from her envelope, looped them around his ankles and secured them to the pillar of the chair, then she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled his trousers down around his ankles. His rigid cock stood to attention. He found it humiliating to be semi-naked at work - in the office where he was supposed to be professional, and it aroused him greatly.

Next, Emma slid his keyboard out of the way and sat on the edge of his desk, her legs spread wide and her unkempt pussy on display. The sight of her naked bottom on HIS desk - the knowledge that this part of the desk would be right under his nose as he worked the next day, turned him on immensely.

"Once a month, I'll come to Paris and dominate you. In-between times you'll send me love emails and sordid pictures. If you're lucky, I'll send some back."

He tried to reply - wanted to tell her that he wanted her, but the cleverly chosen panties filled his mouth and made it impossible to orate anything comprehensible.

"Paris." she breathed, "Once a month. I'll push you around, I'll spank your arse until it's cherry red. I'll make you crawl around your apartment on your hands and knees."

She leaned forward and let a large glob of spit fall from her mouth and onto his bell-end, then rested her left hand on his shoulder for support and began to stroke his throbbing cock with her right. He moaned with pleasure and tugged against his ties as she began to edge him towards an orgasm.

"Imagine what I could do to you if we had a place of our own", she purred, stroking his rigid shaft steadily, "I could be kind or cruel... I have so many ideas for you."

The thought of being Emma's boss turned him on greatly - he imagined telling her what to do in public, then being punished for it in private. The thought of having a place of their own turned him on too - he remembered what it was like to have her mount his face while they were in Budapest, how she seized the opportunity to dominated him. What would it be like if he had a place in Paris? - how cocky would she be when she walked through his door? How demanding? How domineering?

Emma spat on his cock several more times, and jerked him ever closer to an orgasm. Her arms ached as she held herself steady and jerked him faster.

"Be my boss!" she panted, "I want to walk all over you!"

The thought was too much for Jacob. He erupted immediately, pumping strings of cum in great arcs towards her pussy, falling short to splatter on the floor at their feet. He grunted and shook as he spasmed, pulling his wrists tight against the cable ties.