A Secretary Changed

Yawn, stretch, eyes open.

The stupid alarm ringing.

Hit snooze, and stare at the ceiling until the alarm starts its thing again.

Might as well get up. That horrible stretch between the blankets warm embrace and the hot showers liquid sunshine. The cold in between. Loathsome.

Need to be done though. It's too early but, it takes work to look like I do. But it's worth it. Turn the hot water on, look in the mirror. Sigh. Nothing a little makeup won't fix.

Might be a good time to describe myself, for those of you interested. I'm 5ft5, blonde with blue eyes. Curvy in all the right places. My body is pasty, pale, skin so white I'm almost pink. Almost a ghost. Years of cheer and gymnastics in school and now yoga almost daily make me fit and very limber. Flexible.

My best feature? Definitely breasts. Yep. 36d fun bags. Firm bouncy and oh so perky. Big pink sensitive nipples. I've never had to open a door or buy my own drinks. Not that I'm a heavy drinker. Don't be haters girls.

And, for those of you into this sort of thing, im waxed completely smooth from the neck down.

Well, out of the shower and time to dress for work. My usual outfits consist of skirts, dresses, and of course, heels. Sometimes ill wear something naughty under, just for me, just for fun. Sometimes.

I know, sounds like a typical office girl? Well I am. I work receptionist for a large what you would call conglomerate. They do accounting, consulting, and other equally mundane tasks for people who pay.

Whatever.

My job is to answer phones and be a pleasant voice. Welcome clients and visitors and be a nice bit of eye candy on the way in. A good first impression.

Today I think I'll go with a lacy white bra, to match my lacy white silk panties. I know. The classics are always in fashion. A grey form fitting skirt and button up blouse just sheer enough to glimpse my bra will go nicely. The skirt tight enough. If you had a quarter it would bounce off my ass. Twice.

Finish with a pair of shiny, black patent pumps , with 4 inch heels and I'm good to go.

Think I'll leave my hair down today, although I've been known to wear it in a wide array of styles depending on my mood. Whimsical. Yep, that's so me.

Off to work.

So, here I sit, bored. The phone has actually only rang twice in the past hour. If you can believe that.

Like I said. Boring day. Until.

The elevator dinged, I didn't even look up. I usually don't until someone is in front of me. I know it's self-involved but, dammit , my nails needed attention. What's a girl to do?

What made me look up? Heels. Click click clicking my way. Like I said, I love high heels , and I always look to see what another girl is wearing. My weakness? Maybe.

Looking up, I was greeted by what I can only describe as a nearly Amazon , nearly 6ft2 , nearly dangerous looking woman in a sharp business suit. So much for judging her heels.

"Hi, how may I help you?" I greeted her, my voice nearly cracking. Good first impression.

Whatever.

As she peered down her nose at me, the seconds stretched on. I almost held my breath.

"You may, serve me, by being a doll and telling Mrs. Anders her 12 o'clock is here," she replied. Almost sternly.

Now I know I'm just a secretary but, there's no need for rudeness , right?

We locked eyes, my baby blues almost glaring at her, her brown eyes, penetrating, me.

Stupid, I looked away first, my eyes lowered as my finger, my trembling finger pressed the call button and I paged Mrs.Anders. Looking up I was met with this, woman, smirking at me. "good girl," she whispered.

Whatever.

After a pause in which me and this mystery woman sized each other up , Mrs. Anders chimed back, her voice a bit shaky, which was a first for my ears.

"Send her in," was all she said, her finger on the button just a bit longer then necessary. As I looked up, I found I was already alone.

Whatever.

Using the time I was alone, I did what any normal office girl does. Facebook, texting some friends, a call to my sister, and of course, touching up my makeup.

Not more then half an hour later, who should come walking by but, this mystery woman, followed by Mrs. Anders. Mrs. Rebecca Anders. As mystery woman walked past smirking at me while I halfway pretended she was invisible , Mrs. Anders approached. I noticed she was flushed. Red. Her breath short.

"Jenna," she said. "We are going to the lounge downstairs and, my umm, friend has asked that you join us."

After a moment's thought I replied, "Sure, why not?"

Little did I realize, how different things would be afterwords. And how much I would come to regret taking that little lunch break from my boring, office girl life.

As we rode the elevator down I took the opportunity to size up these two. Mrs. Anders was a pretty typical cougar. Blond and successful. Wearing a professionally conservative pant suit. Not too overtly sexual. My mystery woman? Also in a professional pant suit. Tall. Raven haired. Busty. For once maybe all eyes wouldn't be on me.

The silence was a bit awkward in that elevator to be sure. I could almost hear myself thinking, and I was thinking, what do these professional women want with a lowly secretary?

I'd soon find out.

As we reached the first floor, just when the elevator stopped, the raven haired one turned to me, looking down, and said, "JenJen, after these doors open, you will from then on address me as Miss Jane."

Then the doors opened.

Mrs. Anders stepped aside to allow, Miss Jane, to exit first, as I stood a bit shocked. Mildly. Then I slowly followed them out.

Miss Jane? I mean, really? Who does she think she is? I briefly considered turning around and going right back up to my desk but, I thought that might end up in unemployment. I mean, Mrs. Anders is one of the top partners and could easily have me finished. So I followed.

On the first floor is a lounge. Well, typical bar and grill. It caters to office workers during the day. As we entered and the hostess greeted us I looked around. Filled with professional people having a few drinks for lunch. Very classy environment.

Perhaps a bit of my background here would make a nice intermission in this tale.

Growing up, my parents were very religious and very upstanding. Totally bible belt and church every sunday and the whole works. The tried as best as they could to raise me and my two sisters in the same way. Everything was hellfire and brimstone and eternal suffering. As a result, I don't really drink, don't smoke, avoided the whole party girl lifestyle as did my sisters. I had a very steady, very vanilla boyfriend all through high school and we ended when he went to college. After that I was single for a while before finding another very steady, very vanilla boyfriend which lasted for 8 years. Now I'm in my late twenties and single. So as you can imagine, I've only slept with two guys.

I've never considered bisexuality. And as a result of my upbringing, never would even think of an interracial relationship.

Which brings us to the now.

As the hostess led us in, she took us to a corner booth. Towards the back. I guess Miss Jane, or whatever, tipped her for privacy. Mostly I was wondering how all these people could drink then go back to work. Must be a college thing. We never had money for college. Poor me.

I sat first at Mrs. Anders gesture, then scooted over and she sat at my side. On my right. Miss Jane took the seat on my left. Here I was, stuck in the middle.

Out waiter was there almost by cause of magic. Drinks on a tray. Unbeknownst to me Miss Jane had ordered from the hostess. I really should pay attention to these things.

As he set down the drinks, I asked what we were drinking.

"Two iced teas and one Long Island."

I assumed mine was the Long Island. For those of you unaware that's a very potent drink. Too potent. I was unaware. I asked for a menu but before he could answer, Miss Jane interrupted, ordering something called Thai Shrimp. Again, I was unaware. Unaware that Thai food is really just volcanic lava on a plate.

So there we sat, quietly. I hadn't realized that since inviting me, Mrs. Anders hadn't said a word. I sipped my tea and mentioned it was tasty without tasting it. Without realizing really, that Miss Jane had her eyes all over my body.

Then the shrimp arrived.

Now let me explain Thai shrimp. The first bite is a shock. The third bite is exquisite agony. The fifth bite and your taste buds are gone. So it was only a few bites in I was flushed, squirming, and, more then halfway through my drink. My potent, stupidly strong, drink. I don't drink.

Miss Jane smirking as I swilled. Mrs. Anders sitting quietly with her eyes down.

My head begin to swim.

My straw sucking air.

Miss Jane ordering me another.

Most people are tipsy after one, I was just starting to slur, when Miss Jane leaned over and quietly told Mrs. Anders, "You may speak now Becca."

I was, surprised a little, to hear her say that. Looking at Mrs. Anders, she looked back and all she said was, "I'm sorry Jenna." The alcohol in my head muted the giggle coming from Miss Jane, and I suddenly realized I was, drunk.

"Ummm," I slurred. "I need to umm, visit the ladies room and umm, freshen up."

"Sure." Miss Jane replied. "Becca, be a doll and let little miss big tits here out to go, freshen up."

As I slid out and wobbled in my heels, Miss Jane told me ,"Don't worry, I'll watch your purse."

I didn't quite get her meaning as I tried to maintain my way to the restroom. Yeah, a little cold splash and maybe a quick pee and I'll be fine. Yeah.

While I was gone...

Miss Jane picked up my purse, taking everything out as she talked to Becca.

"You have done quite well to bring me this one pet. She's perfect. You will be rewarded."

"Thank you Mistress," Becca replied, "She is very, naive Mistress."

"She won't be for long." Miss Jane repiled, as she took my phone, wallet, and keys and secreted them in her own purse. Her designer handbag. Her designer Italian handbag.

"Now Becca, I have a task for you." Miss Jane said, as she put my remaining things back in my purse.

"You are to return to the office and make your excuses for Jenna. She won't be returning there today and maybe tomorrow. Understand?"

"Yes Mistress."was the only reply as Mrs. Anders, Becca now, slid out and slipped away to the office, just a tinge of regret for, giving, me to Miss Jane.

(to be continued)...