Author's note: I tend to write slow burn lesbian romance stories, but below is something else—clipped from a story that won't see the light of day, because I wasn't able to tie it all together. It works well enough as a stand alone bit, though.
Please bear in mind that this piece focuses heavily on dominance, submission and power. With below originally being the culmination of a longer story, the first part leans pretty heavily into the D/s aspect.
Enjoy Emma Clark and Amanda Watson's steamy office romance.
~~~
Amanda stood in her bedroom, staring at the assortment of clothes laid out on her bed. Her hands hovered over them as indecision gripped her. What did one wear to an invitation like this? Or, more accurately, to someone like Emma Clark? Her green eyes shifted to the matching black thong and bra she had set aside. Those were a given—the delicate lace was elegant, understated, and entirely appropriate for tonight's unspoken undertone.
Her gaze moved to the dress and then to the jeans and top she had considered earlier. Casual? Yeah, too casual. She eyed the minidress, a sleek black number with a zipper running down the back. It clung to her in all the right places, and the simplicity of its design made it seem effortless, yet alluring.
After a moment's hesitation, she decided on the dress, slipping into it and smoothing the fabric against her hips. She turned to her reflection, biting her lip as she adjusted the zipper. As she turned, taking in all the angles, she saw a petite but toned woman. More wiry than curvy, with vibrant red hair that was rich in copper undertones in the right light. She shook her head, dismissing the doubts. If anyone would appreciate precision, it was Emma.
Standing outside the building, a place she had never visited before, impressive feat of architecture—modern, with sleek lines and tall windows that promised breathtaking views. The door opened to reveal her manager standing there, sharp as ever, her smile warm but still retaining the guarded air Amanda had come to associate with her. It was a genuine smile, however, and she allowed herself a small breath of relief.
"Amanda," Emma said, her blue eyes sweeping over her. "You look beautiful."
Amanda's cheeks flushed slightly as she returned the compliment. "Thank you, Ms. Clark. You look... stunning, as always."
Emma was dressed in smart casual attire, a simple but elegant combination of tailored trousers and a crisp, fitted top. She looked effortlessly polished, her hair framing her face in soft waves. The way she carried herself made Amanda feel as though she belonged in a magazine spread, yet there was something inviting about her demeanor tonight—a subtle shift from the controlled professionalism Amanda was used to.
"Come on in," Emma said, stepping aside and offering Amanda a glass of wine as they moved into the apartment. The space was as sophisticated as the woman who inhabited it—clean lines, muted tones, and accents of luxury in the form of art and carefully chosen decor.
"I bought you a present," Emma said, voice unusually soft, tinged with something Amanda couldn't quite place. Excitement, perhaps? It made her heart skip a beat.
"Oh, Ms. Clark, you didn't have to..."
"Follow me," Emma interrupted gently, setting her wine glass down and gesturing toward another room. Amanda followed, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor until they reached the bedroom.
On the floor near the foot of the bed were two neatly wrapped presents, one larger and one smaller. Amanda raised an eyebrow, glancing at Emma.
"Ms. Clark," she began, "you really didn't have to do this."
Emma's expression shifted, the faintest hint of hesitation crossing her face. The confident, unflappable demeanor Amanda was so used to seemed to falter for just a moment. Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged, as Emma appeared to search for the right words.
"I like you," Emma said finally, her voice low but firm. Amanda's breath caught, her eyes widening slightly. She could swear she'd never seen Emma blush, but now... there was a subtle warmth creeping up her cheeks. "And I know I'm not a woman of many words, so this is my way of showing appreciation."
Emma cleared her throat, her composure returning almost instantly. "Open the small one first. That's for you."
Amanda knelt down, her fingers trembling slightly as she unwrapped the small box. Inside, nestled against a bed of velvet, was a golden necklace with a single diamond that caught the light with every tiny movement. Her fingers brushed against the delicate chain as though it might disappear if she touched it too firmly.
"Ms. Clark," Amanda whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's... it's beautiful. I don't even know what to say."
Emma stepped closer, her gaze unwavering as she looked down at Amanda. "It suits you," she said simply, her tone carrying both finality and affection. "And it's meant to remind you of something."
Amanda looked up, her emerald eyes searching Emma's face. "What's that?" she asked softly.
"That you're mine," Emma said, her voice tinged with warmth. "And I take care of what's mine."
Amanda's heart raced. For a moment, she felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of them, the city outside forgotten, the tension of the day slipping away.
"Thank you," Amanda said finally, heavy with emotion.
Emma smiled again, softer this time, and reached down, her fingers brushing Amanda's cheek. "You're welcome. Now, try it on."
Amanda's fingers brushed against the delicate chain of the necklace as she fastened it around her neck. The diamond caught the soft light of the room, each tiny facet glittering with elegance. It fit perfectly, sitting just above her collarbone, as though it had been made for her. Amanda glanced at the mirror nearby, the sparkle of the necklace drawing her eye before her attention shifted back to Emma.
"Beautiful," Emma hummed, her fingers tracing along the delicate chain of the necklace, her thumb brushing over the diamond at Amanda's throat. There was something in her eyes, a yearning look, that made Amanda's chest tighten—a mix of pride, possessiveness and quiet satisfaction.
"Thank you," Amanda said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her attention was then drawn to the larger box sitting nearby, its black exterior tied neatly with a satin bow. It exuded mystery, its stark elegance as deliberate as everything else in Emma's world.
Amanda hesitated for a moment, a furtive look flicking to Emma for confirmation. Emma gave a small nod, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles.
"Go ahead," she said, her voice calm yet carrying a hint of something Amanda had learned was anticipation.
Amanda knelt down again as she untied the bow. The ribbon slipped away easily, pooling like liquid silk on the floor as she opened the box. Her brow furrowed slightly as she took in the contents—a sleek, rounded device that was unlike anything she had seen before. Its design was modern, almost futuristic, with clean lines and a polished finish that gleamed under the light.
She tilted her head, her green eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity as she lifted the device carefully and placed it on the floor. It was heavier than it looked, its weight solid in her hands. Amanda ran her fingers over the surface, her movements tentative, as though she were handling something precious.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice carrying genuine confusion. Her gaze lifted to meet Emma's, her expression equal parts curiosity and caution. Emma stepped closer, her presence commanding as she moved to stand just behind Amanda.
"It's a Sybian," Emma said, her tone smooth and deliberate, as though the explanation were the simplest thing in the world.
Amanda blinked, her cheeks flushing as the name registered. She wasn't naive—she'd heard of it before, though only in passing. She glanced back at the device, its sleek design suddenly taking on a new meaning, and then back up at Emma. Her expression was unreadable, though there was an unmistakable glint in her eyes, one that made Amanda's heart race.
"I—" Amanda began, her voice faltering. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Emma interrupted, her voice low and velvety as she leaned down, her breath warm against Amanda's ear. "But I do expect you to use it. For me."
Amanda noticed her pulse quickening as she felt the full weight of Emma's presence behind her. The room seemed to shrink, the atmosphere growing heavier as Amanda's mind raced. She wasn't entirely sure what this meant—what Emma expected, or what she was ready to give—but the tension between them was palpable.
Emma straightened, her hand brushing lightly against Amanda's shoulder, a gesture that was both grounding and possessive. "Take your time. We'll start slow. But trust me, Amanda—you'll enjoy it."
Amanda nodded, her throat tight as she tried to steady herself. She couldn't quite find the words to respond, her emotions a whirlwind of apprehension, curiosity, and something else entirely—something she didn't yet have a name for. But as her fingers traced the device again, she realized that, as always, she would follow Emma's lead. She always did.
"You want me to use it now?" Amanda asked as she looked up at Emma, her green eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. "I've never—"
Emma silenced her with a finger to her lips. "You don't have to think. Just feel." She stood tall, her sight fixed on Amanda with an intensity that made the air between them feel electric.
Before Amanda could say anything, Emma's voice cut through her hesitation:
"Undress for me." The words had been spoken with a quiet authority, and her sultry stare never left Amanda's.
