Love At First Slight

AUTHOR'S NOTE AND WARNING TO READERS: A rather perverted tale between a new employee and her older boss, both of them women. It's a Dominant-and-Submissive sort of tale where the older woman pushes the younger one into territories that she might not be entirely comfortable with, but find oh so arousing. Do read the tags because there's some things that some readers would find disturbing, and there's an 'age play' factor involved as well. This story would fit decently well into the Fetish category, the Lesbian Sex category, and the Mature category.

This is my contribution to the 2024 Valentine's Day Contest.

This is a work of fiction, and everyone in the story is eighteen or older.

All of my stories are copyrighted.

--- LOVE AT FIRST SLIGHT ---

Lady Amoria de la Motte came from a wealthy family. Born suckling on the golden teat, waltzing through life - and any obstacle she might have encountered along the way, no matter how large or small, was removed with a snap of the fingers. In her case, money didn't just talk - it sang, it squalled, and sometimes even roared. Spoiled beyond belief by an overprotective father - twice as much after her mother passed - but at least she was aware of it. Aware of her privilege. Conscious that her life had been easier than most, and that she had not ended up as the Chief Marketing Officer for a successful bank entirely on her own merit. It was a regional bank chain - not one of the giants - but even so, scoring a job like that straight out of college with no previous work experience was basically unheard of.

Her boss, Sandra Collins, came from far more humble beginnings. Over fifteen years Amoria's senior, she had struggled and bled to get to where she was. Earning herself a scholarship to an Ivy League school through hard work and sheer determination, doing little else with her youth than to study and racking up extra credit after hours - completing every additional assignment she could, and filling her resumé with accolades in all the extracurricular activities the school had offered. Then it was on to university - although not a full ride again. She had needed student loans and still struggled to make ends meet, and that meant spending most of her evenings and weekends working for extra cash rather than partying or relaxing. But it also helped that she was charming when the situation called for it, ruthless when no other option applied, and - more than anything - driven.

So when Amoria showed up for her first day at work - Monday morning - wearing something that might be more fitting for being belle of the ball, Sandra's eyebrow raised immediately, and she could practically see the golden spoon poking out between the young lady's lips. However, the girl was undoubtedly gorgeous - looking like a porcelain doll with her perfectly unblemished skin, long blonde hair that was so bright it almost looked like shining silver in the sun, and a slender frame with seemingly as many pieces of expensive jewellery as one could comfortably wear. The girl looked haughty - but also innocent as few, perhaps due to her small stature and the way her curious eyes kept observing everything in the room with great interest whenever her phone didn't buzz, which it seemed to do every 30 seconds. Assuming she must be an intern or a secretary due to her youth, Sandra could not understand why the girl thought it was a good idea to attend the meeting between the department heads. She assumed she must be ditzy.

"Hey, princess.. Go get coffee for the rest of us, will you?" Sandra ordered with a straight face. "I take mine black, one lump of sugar." It was clear that the word princess was meant in a derogatory way from how she accentuated it.

Amoria looked up from her cell phone, wide-eyed, staring at the older lady like she'd just kicked a puppy in the street. Her very first thought was; "How dare she talk to me like that!?" Her second thought, however, was; "Oh my god, that is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Her mouth fell open. No one had ever dared to address her in such a manner, and when this tall and buxom goddess spoke to her with a voice full of authority and told her what to do - in front of everyone else, no less - Amoria felt something akin to liquid electricity rivulet through her system. She felt like she was a kid again, being scolded by her mother. But there was something else too. It almost felt as if someone else had taken control over her body - like an animalistic need to obey had slithered its tendrils around her. The woman must be close to six feet, at least in her fashionable shoes, and practically soared above her petite little self, barely making it above the five feet line in heels.

"Uhm.. Miss Collins, that's our new CMO," spoke the HR representative, his voice timid and his whole body slouching like he wished he could just sink into the ground. His glasses sat so low on his oversized nose that the view from behind them was likely obscured by their thick frames, and the few strands of hair he had left on his head was still combed over as if he could not come to terms with his receding hair-line. Receding hair-everything, truly.

Sandra's eyes turned big as she realised what she'd done - but there was only the briefest, blink-and-you'll-miss-it look of regret and hesitation. Then, she turned towards Amoria again, wearing her most confident smile. "My mistake," she said - offering no other apology. They locked eyes, and the young blonde's cheeks puffed up a bit like a chipmunk that was trying to say something without using words, but her gesture went completely ignored. "Starting from tomorrow, please wear more appropriate office attire."

The young lady wanted to argue. Wanted to protest. And normally, she would have done exactly that, but in that moment there was something within her that prevented her from doing so. Her heart was beating to the tune of her new boss's voice, and she felt flush and feverish. If the taller woman - with her piercing eyes in hues of viridian and her perfectly straight hair like the blackest onyx - would have walked up to her right there and then, ripped her dress to shreds, and had her way with her in front of the entire room of her new co-workers, she would have let it happen. To be spoken to in such a - to Amoria, at least - demeaning way.. And by a woman, no less! It made her feel as if she was drunk on the prospect of being controlled. Never before had she felt such an immediate sexual tension and attraction - nor had she experienced the feeling that she was so powerless to resist the pull. Her panties were damp in moments.

But it was all just a fleeting moment of weakness, she told herself - quickly smothered and snuffed out like the smallest of embers beneath the sole of her Chanel pumps. In that moment, she had no idea how wrong she'd be.

--- 2 ---

"Miss Collins wants to see you in her office," one of her colleagues said to her, popping her head in through the office door that Amoria had left open. Her name was Gracie or Grace or Gilly or something. Maybe Gail? Amoria didn't really care. She had a mousy appearance and an annoying timbre to her voice, and the blazer she wore was a size too big.

Amoria was standing there, staring into space, with her face towards the window overlooking the snowy streets outside. The words coming out of her co-workers mouth did not quite register with her. She blinked - slowly. Then, her eyes came back into focus. "What?" she asked.

"Miss Collins. In her office." she repeated herself, making a face like she didn't have much faith in Amoria's mental capacities. "You should probably go see her? She gets angry if you keep her waiting."

"Oh, right." With that, the petite blonde turned on the ball of her feet and went off towards the elevator. Maybe the older woman would apologize? Maybe the universe would return the power balance to the way it was supposed to be - with Amoria de la Motte as the apex predator at the top, and Sandra Collins as the lowly minnow beneath her. The bank might be the taller woman's kingdom, but Amoria ruled the world.

As she walked into Sandra's office, swaying her hips like an ice queen walking down a red carpet, she saw the look of disappointment written all over the older lady's face. Instantly, she felt small. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Amoria felt a lump forming in her throat, and suddenly the temperature seemed to drop by several degrees - yet she felt warmer at the same time. Curious. Whatever confidence she had gathered during the elevator ride ebbed out like a discarded pumpkin spice latte, the cup turned upside down, and was instead replaced with uncertainty and the slightest of aches between her legs.

"Close the door," Sandra ordered, forcing the younger girl to take a few steps back. "Then have a seat." Her tone was level, but there was a certain edge to it that made Amoria feel dizzy for just a moment. She did as told, placing her plump assets in the leather-clad armchair in front of Sandra's desk and nervously pulling down on her dress with her bejewelled fingers, revealing more cleavage than intended.

The older woman observed her in silence for a few agonizing seconds. Everything on her lacquered desk was neatly organized, every object seemingly the perfect distance from its neighbour. A letter opener that looked like a deadly weapon rested on the right corner of her table. Sandra leaned forward, making her seem even more imposing than she had been before, staring down at Amoria like she was ready to cross examine the young girl with those dark green eyes of hers.

"Why are you working here?" The question was sharply delivered and left little room for interpretation - there was an entangled disapproval wrapped around it, and it felt like a heavy stone ready to drag Amoria down below the surface. Still, she challenged it.

"What do you mean?" Amoria tried to sound poised and sassy, but her heart was beating so fast she felt like it might burst through the confines of her chest, and she swallowed dryly. She couldn't stop staring at her boss's lips. Miss Collins wore subtle make-up, but enough to accentuate her features and give her a smoky, dangerous appearance. That coupled with her lush, yet demanding mouth made the younger girl feel like she was about to faint from desire alone. How did this woman have such a grasp over her, controlling her like a marionette, despite being a total stranger?

Sandra seemed to study the younger woman, carefully selecting her words as she spoke. "You don't need the money. So why are you here?" The tone was serious and a bit accusatory.

Amoria felt her cheeks turn pink, and her whole body stiffened up. The young beauty sat there, her lustrous hair cascading forward over her left shoulder, with her eyes locked on the older lady's - as if held captive, unable to look away. This was a game she had no idea how to play. She was used to people bending without much resistance. Used to getting her way. Used to feeling powerful - but now, she felt small. Like a child getting scolded. "Because my father asked me to," she answered truthfully. "He wants me to have real work experience. Says it will make me understand him better."

Her boss frowned. "You're father is Aldrich de la Motte, I presume?" It seemed to be a rhetorical question because she didn't pause for an answer. "Isn't he a significant shareholder in Barclays?" It was clear she had looked this information up. "They're a competitor of ours, in some ways. This could be perceived as a conflict of interests. It goes against our company policy."

This time, Amoria's heart sank - almost felt as if it had dropped all the way to the bottom of her stomach. She stared at the older woman feeling like she was about to start crying - and Sandra felt it. A strange sense of empathy washed over her face. It was as if she couldn't quite decide if she was looking at a privileged, entitled little brat or a young woman that in many ways was a victim to her father's whims. Conceivably both.

"Perhaps I can make a few phonecalls and have you transferred over to one of their offices. I doubt they'll hire you into an executive position, but if you prove your worth, you could climb the corporate ladder same as everyone else." There was an ounce of sympathy in her voice.

"Oh no.. No, please!" The petite blonde practically jumped out of the chair when she said this, her arms waving in front of her body. "If I get let go on my first day of work, my father would kill me. You can't do that.."

Sandra looked at her with a stone cold gaze, pursing her lips together tightly. "Sit down, miss De la Motte."

But the young blonde did no such thing. Instead, she made her way around the desk on unsteady legs - and Sandra leaned back in her chair, suddenly looking nervous. The two women were only a few feet apart. "Let me stay here," the blonde woman whimpered. "I'll do anything."

"Miss De la Motte, this isn't-" Sandra's words got cut off as Amoria grabbed her cheeks with gentle, trembling hands and pressed her lips against the older woman's soft arches. What compelled her to do such a thing, she didn't even understand herself. All she knew was that she had to remain by Sandra's side. Not much of a believer in such a thing as love at first sight, but she couldn't deny how stricken she was. Never had she felt such a magnetic pull towards someone. Never had she truly considered kissing a woman before. But now, it seemed like the only choice that made sense in her heart.

Amoria could feel how stiff the dark-haired beauty was. Her hands remained perfectly still by her side, and she didn't seem to be breathing at all. But then, after a second or four, she let out a strange but oh so arousing noise. A guttural type of moan. That sound, coming from such a statuesque woman, only drove Amoria deeper down into a pool of primal desire. She could smell her boss's perfume hanging in the air between them - smelling like flowers in early spring. Something wild, yet subdued. She leaned over further, pushing her young frame against Sandra's larger body, practically climbing into her lap. Her tongue eagerly attempted to caress Sandra's, and the taste of her lips was sweet and intoxicating.

"Mmmm," Sandra moaned again, the sound vibrating between them and seemingly piercing their way straight into Amoria's heart. But then - finally - she pushed the younger woman away ever-so-slightly. Just enough so that their lips would no longer touch. "Amoria, this is not the way to solve your problems," she breathed heavily - as if she'd run straight up a mountain.

It took Amoria a second to regain control over herself - to understand what was happening to her, and why she was acting so out of line both from a professional and a personal standpoint. Her eyes turned shyly downwards, though this meant that she was staring right at Sandra's chest, and this did nothing to calm her down. Her curves were divine. Amoria's lips pouted out a bit. "I.. I'm sorry, Mommy," she said - unsure of why she had chosen those words. They just slipped out, and instantly her cheeks turned red as pomegranates.

Sandra's jaw clenched up and turned stiff, and she looked at the smaller blonde with wide eyes. Her stare seemed to pierce right through Amoria's petite frame - yet it was hard to discern whether there was disapproval in her gaze or something else entirely.

All the while, Amoria felt her emotions finally riptide out of control completely, and tears began streaming down her face. The whole thing made no sense. She didn't know why she was so upset - why she was acting so unlike herself. But she was desperate for the older woman's approval. Never in her life had she wanted anything quite as badly.

Miss Collins was physically shaking. She put a hand underneath Amoria's chin, raising her head up so that they could look into each other's eyes - and for what felt like an eternity, they stared at each other in silence, as if their eyes could communicate far better than their lips ever could. As if they could see into each other's souls. See the intention and raw emotion behind the other woman's actions. And after visible hesitation, Sandra took a deep breath, and whispered.

"It's okay, baby girl.." Her bottom lip was quivering, but she brushed a lock of hair out of Amoria's face, then kissed the tears on her cheeks away. "Mommy's not mad.."

--- 3 ---

Back at her own office - small and plain, with floor-to-ceiling windows and completely lacking the intimate aura that her boss's office held - Amoria's thoughts were spinning. Her moment with Sandra had been cut short when a knock came on the door, and another one of the employees had barged in to bring some papers that needed signing. Thankfully the two women had enough time to separate themselves from one another, but there was no denying the guilty look on the posh lady's face. Miss Collins, however, had a much better poker face and managed to play it off quite smoothly.

But Amoria had scurried out of there, and now she had a hundred questions in her head. What exactly had happened between her and the older woman, on the emotional plane? Was this what love at first sight was? Or love at first SLIGHT, rather, because it was the commanding yet degrading way that Sandra had spoken to her that drove her to feel so desperate to win the raven-haired woman's approval.

Not knowing what else to do, she began looking through market strategies and business statistics, hoping to get lost in her work for a while. Maybe if she could make an excellent impression, she might be able to keep her job - proving she actually possessed some real talent in the field. Perhaps if she could just manage to convince the dark-haired beauty that she wasn't incompetent, she could avoid both being let go - and thus not having to be separated from Sandra - whilst also being spared from her father's wrath. But it proved a bit more difficult than anticipated, considering she kept having flashbacks to when she'd crawled into the dark-haired beauty's lap. How sweet her boss's taste had been. After about an hour, just as she was finally getting into the flow of things, learning how the software worked and figuring out the basics of how the company was positioning itself within the financial sphere and local community - her phone buzzed, as it so often did. She was about to dismiss it at first when she saw it was a text message from someone she had not yet added to her contact list. Sandra Collins.

"Lunch - 12:30 - Restaurant named 'The Pork Rind', two blocks from here. Meet me there, and don't be late. Sandra Collins, Senior Vice President, S.P.A.R Bank."

Amoria felt short of breath, and just sat there staring at the screen like she'd received a bomb threat or something. This was all so new and unexplored for her, and so much seemed to hang in the balance. But she was hungry! Not for food, but for the sweet embrace of the other woman. Yet Amoria felt that this didn't bode well. Meeting at a public place? Maybe the intention behind that was so that she couldn't throw herself at her superior if things got heated again? What a bitter thought..

--- 4 ---

Walking into the restaurant, Amoria was greeted by an older man in a lovely suit, carrying himself with a certain flair and exuding good manners. The place seemed a lot more upper class than she had imagined, and her curious eyes scanned the place. White tablecloths on circular tables, a handful of patrons drinking fancy cocktails and eating what looked like delicious - if a little pretentious - food. The entire venue was lit up by natural light from the large windows facing the wintery landscape outside, and violin music could be heard playing through hidden speakers somewhere along the walls. But Amoria was used to luxury and didn't feel even remotely out of place.

"I'm here to dine with Sandra Collins," she told the maître d', "Lady Amora de la Motte. She's expecting me." A few minutes early, but this wasn't about timing.