This is a femdom story that involves non-consent/reluctance with a female aggressor. All characters are 18 or older.
***
I drove my rental Nissan Altima through the posh neighborhood of suburban estates until I reached a short line of cars with bright red brake lights. All of the houses in the area were set back from the road with long driveways. Traditional white Christmas lights decorated trees in an understated way, yet they were hung so meticulously and high off the ground that it was clear serious money had been spent to achieve the effect.
After stop and go traffic for a few minutes, I handed my keys to a valet and walked up a long drive lit with scores of luminaries set in the snow. Above me, spotlights shined on a grand brick estate home perched on a steep rise, giving it an acropolis-like appearance. Most guests waited for staff-driven golf carts to shuttle them up, but I was happy for the brisk hike.
I briefly reflected on the events that led me here. I had been working at a Wall Street law firm for the past few years, my first job out of Harvard Law, and had been devastated to learn I was passed over in the recent round of partner promotions. I heard a rumor that one senior partner had blackballed me due to a disagreement we had during my first year as an associate. Colleagues whispered that my future prospects were dim due to his long memory. I happened to receive a headhunter call the same day offering a general counsel position at a sizable Midwest insurance firm. I interviewed the next day and ten days later I was on a plane to the heartland.
I had been at the company less than a week when the CEO and majority owner, J.F. McGregor, invited me to his annual company holiday party at his home. I later learned that invitations were strictly granted by employee seniority, and that attendance was an obligation. But it was my first weekend in town, and I was honestly happy to get out, as well as curious to see how my new boss lived. I also didn't know many people at the company yet and saw it as an opportunity to mingle.
To date, people I had met seemed reserved and cautious with me. My team of attorneys mostly had state school law degrees and were intimidated by my Harvard background. Some also appeared resentful they had been passed over for promotion to the executive role. Others in the company appeared to see me as an enigma, surprised I would come to the Midwest. They probably assumed the job was a temporary stepping-stone, and that I would be gone in a year or two.
If I planned to get anything done around here and reignite my career, I knew I would have to earn everyone's trust and respect. I had also learned my lesson about rocking the boat and was determined to maintain positive relationships among my colleagues.
I stepped through the front door and into the foyer, a vaulted room flanked by a double staircase. I joined a line of people at a coat check, all of whom seemed to avoid eye contact with me. After dropping my coat, a staff member directed me toward a staircase to what I assumed was a basement. I noticed he wore a green plaid vest over a white shirt, similar to the green sweater vest I wore over my white Oxford. The invitation had said Christmas attire.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I entered an elaborate entertaining space complete with a long mahogany bar, an assortment of high-top tables, as well as multiple lounge areas with plush couches and chairs, much like a hotel lobby. The cavernous room was flanked by a wall of glass that looked over a winterized pool and terrace lit up by more spotlights. The ceiling was much higher than I expected for a basement, making the room feel open and airy.
At least seventy-five people milled about the room standing or seated on the various furniture. Not noticing anyone I recognized, I walked over to the bar and ordered a bourbon on the rocks from another green-vested staff member. I glanced at the man next to me and said hi. He gave me a wan smile, then turned and drifted away, reminding me of my outsider status.
After getting my drink I began to wander, looking for a conversation to join. As I walked up to a group, one of the men turned without actually looking at me.
"I'll take another Chardonnay," he said, lifting an empty glass in my direction.
"Uh, I'm not a staff member," I responded with an uncomfortable laugh.
"Oh, um, terribly sorry. It's just your green vest..." he said, looking apologetic and pulling back his glass.
However, instead of striking up a conversation with me, he turned away and continued his discussion. At that moment, I noticed a group of my direct reports mingling at one of the high-tops.
"Happy Holidays, folks," I said in my jolliest voice as I walked up.
"
Merry Christmas,
Mr. Bennett," exclaimed Bridget, a lawyer in her late forties.
"Christmas is the reason for the season," clucked a young female lawyer, Michelle, a not-so-subtle statement that my choice of greeting was an unwelcome invention of east coast liberal atheists.
"Um, yeah, Merry Christmas," I responded awkwardly, then continued with an attempt at small talk. "So does anyone have travel plans over the break?"
"I submitted my vacation request six months ago. Did it not get added to your calendar when you joined?" Bridget asked defensively.
"Ah, I'll be honest I haven't looked at vacation schedules yet," I answered, then seeing dismay in her eyes, added, "But I'm not asking anyone to change anything. I was just curious what kind of trips you have planned."
The woman seemed to relax, then Steve, a silver-haired attorney in his fifties spoke.
"Why? Do you have fancy plans you'd like to share with us, Mr. Bennett?"
Geez this wasn't going well, I thought to myself. Steve was the most tenured member of the department and it struck me that he must be one of those who had been passed over for my position.
"Ah, no, actually I planned to do some house hunting and get to know the area better," I said. "This move happened quite quickly as you know. And please call me Josh."
"Of course it did, Mr. Bennett," he responded coolly.
"You know, I'm pretty hungry, I think I'll go check out the appetizer table," announced Michelle.
"I'll join you," the rest of the group answered in unison, and they all stepped away, ending the uncomfortable exchange.
I stood alone at the table nursing my drink and wondering if this whole move was a big mistake, when a woman's voice spoke at my side.
"I see your team hasn't exactly rolled out the red carpet for you."
"Excuse me?" I answered.
I turned toward the voice and was surprised to be standing eye-level with a woman's chest. She wore a white fuzzy button-down sweater that highlighted the generous swell of her breasts. An enticing valley of cleavage shown at the bottom of the sweater's V-neck cut. A large gold cross hung in the middle of her exposed chest and a red kerchief was tied around her neck.
Upon recovering from my initial surprise at her height, I tipped my head back and looked up to see a strikingly attractive face with full red painted lips, framed by wavy auburn hair. A red Santa hat with a white furry brim sat atop her head.
"I'm just joking around," she said with a kindly laugh. "Some people around here can be a bit...standoffish to outsiders. Not me, of course. Hi, my name is Serena."
