"Good morning, Miss Davenshaw."
She halted in her stride momentarily. She was somehow aware of her nipples tingling under her bra, and of what could only be described as a faint tingling between her perfectly toned legs. Her breath caught;
"Uh...good morning, Edmund," she replied.
The faint quiver in her normally confident, authoritative voice would have been missed by most but he was glad to detect this ever so subtle sign that the hypnosis still had an effect on her. This was a deeper set, more long term effect besides the short term effect of last night. Edmund couldn't help grinning at the memory of that, a memory that was, for now of course, denied to his beautiful boss.
Miss Davenshaw meanwhile tried to reconcile the annoyance of his smirk with the fact that she was, somehow, and despite herself, aroused by the sound of his voice. The possibility that he might even be aware of this effect that he was having on her only irritated her further. She resolved to give nothing way. She'd been involved in high level business negotiations for longer than many would have thought possible for a woman in her mid-thirties. This was no different. She decided to reassert herself;
"Edmund, have the report for the forthcoming trip to Zurich on my desk by noon if you would."
Her tone made it clear who the boss was.
"Of course, Miss Davenshaw."
Satisfied that she had received the professional respect that was her due, she regained her composure and strode off. Edmund watched in admiration as her heels clipped their way tersely across the thin carpet, her pert behind evident yet perfectly respectable in her sharp knee length skirt. He stirred at the memory of last night. Miss Davenshaw would be the best prize yet.
"Of course Miss Davenshaw."
She was of course aware of his eyes behind her. She was so used to admiring looks from men as she passed them and left them for dead that sometimes it barely registered. This time, however, she was very conscious of his gaze. Normally, she would have turned around and shot him a cool glance, a common tactic she used for deterring predators or competition in this cut throat jungle of London's financial district. But this time, she didn't. His voice seemed somehow to be permeating her mind, getting inside her head, putting her off. What was going on? Almost imperceptibly she quickened her pace just a little.
She tried to use the morning's business to focus herself. A few phone calls, an email, a couple of incompetent subordinates in need of a dressing down. But no matter how busy she made herself she found her eyes being drawn more and more frequently to the clock, and for midday. She didn't want to admit, not even to herself, that Edmund was beginning to have an effect on her. He'd been with the company just six months and though he seemed reasonably ok and competent she didn't see him as particularly head turning. He was a bit quiet, nobody too remarkable. So...why?
**************************************************
She shook her head, snap out of it, focus! What? It was gone 12 already. He's here. I sense his voice. She must wear what!? Yes, Master I am your slave. Who does he think he is? Yes, I will only be aware when Master tells me to snap out of it...
**************************************************
"With respect, snap out of it, Miss Davenshaw."
It wasn't the insubordinate tone that shocked her. As a woman at the top in this male heavy, aggressive world, she'd learned to deal with that pretty effectively. What shocked her was that she was wearing somewhat different clothes to the ones she'd come to work in. Gone was the sharp power suit and high heeled business shoes. They had been replaced by a tight leather jacket that barely covered her chest. A peephole bra offered scant protection to her thrust out breasts while the skirt she now wore was considerably more mini and significantly tighter than the one she'd worn this morning. Knee high, high heeled boots completed the picture.
"Oh my god, I look like a slut."
But that was not the worst of it. She was standing at the head of the table. Addressing the senior staff! She was uncomfortably aware of their leering grins. The sleazy thoughts of the eight men around the table were evident on their lecherous faces. Edmund, Luis, Daniel all looking at her, not as their boss, but as a piece of flesh. The professional respect that she'd fought so hard to get from them was, of course, nowhere to be seen. They looked at her exactly in the same way they must look at those strippers, call girls, and other professional (and not so professional) women that she frequently overheard them talk about.
"I...I...er...", she began to flush.
She felt so helpless, so exposed in front of these men. For once, they sensed weakness. Her normally rock solid confidence was beginning to totter in the same way that her whole body was beginning to totter in those ridiculously high heeled, fuck me, slut boots. She could see Luis, the worst of them, literally lick his lips in sleazy anticipation. She sensed water forming in her normally ice cool blue eyes.
Oddly enough, Edmund came to the rescue.
"Well, it's clear that none of our minds are completely focused on the Zurich trip right now," he said with somewhat sardonic understatement. "Shall we reconvene again at 4?"
Gratefully, she took the lifeline offered her. Mustering what composure and confidence she could, she pathetically pulled the leather jacket around her, awkwardly adjusted the tight leather skirt and sashayed ridiculously out of the room. The heels seemed to cause her breasts to bounce and her behind to wriggle provocatively. To make things worse she had to run the gauntlet of the whole of the long table to leave the room. As she left the room, low wolf whistles were replaced by increasingly loud laughter. Looking back through the transparent windows of the conference room she could see them all laughing and talking. She couldn't help noticing that many of them were coming up to Edmund, shaking his hand, slapping him on the back..
Back in the office, she allowed herself a few sobs but quickly composed herself as she heard May, her PA enter the office. It was obvious that May knew what had happened. The mixture of awkwardness and disappointment that her assistant felt was obvious on her face. She'd always admired her boss for the way she'd risen to the top and looked after herself in this testosterone charged world. How could she cheapen, degrade and humiliate herself in front of them like this? This was more than just some wardrobe malfunction.
"Can I get you anything, Miss Davenshaw.?"
