Victoria sat in front of her computer, counting down the seconds until she could leave work. Her mind wandered, and she envisioned Sarah. Her sub -- Vicky had begun thinking of the younger woman in that manner -- had the night off, both from work and from Vicky's bed.
At least Sarah's not out with Eddie, she thought, risking a glance at the hirsute goliath sitting a few desks away.
"Miss Troy," her supervisor called out.
Annoyed, she snapped out of her daydream and turned her head toward Bob Dornan's office.
"Could you come here, please?" he continued.
Checking the clock on the wall, she sighed.
"Are you kidding me?" she whispered. "Another minute and I'd have been out of here."
Rising slowly, she shuffled across the carpeted floor as Eddie and two other workers grabbed their assorted belongings and made their way to the exit.
"Yes, Mr. Dornan?" she asked, adjusting her glasses as she remained one step outside the room.
"Come in and close the door," he said.
Frowning, she wondered what this might be about.
"Have a seat," he directed, pointing at the chair in front of his broad wooden desk.
Sitting down, Vicky interlocked her fingers, mostly to keep her hands from shaking. Suddenly, the dominant side she'd cultivated over the last few weeks had dissolved.
"I don't know how to put this," he said. "So, I guess, I should just say it."
Vicky nodded a fraction of an inch as he looked at her.
"Yesterday, I overheard Eddie and Sarah talking in the back room," he said.
Her face fell, her gaze dropped into her lap, and she could feel the blood rushing into her cheeks.
"Are you forcing Eddie and Sarah to have sex with you?" he asked.
She remained silent. He waited a few moments.
"Is it true?" he pressed.
"How could I make them have sex with me?" Vicky argued, flashing her ice-blue eyes at him.
"Eddie mentioned some videos," Dornan said. "And, that you threatened to show everyone if they didn't do whatever you wanted."
Vicky deflated, nervously shifting in her seat.
"Blackmail is illegal," he counseled. "You could be arrested. Even go to prison."
"I don't want to get in trouble," she groused. "I just wanted to fuck Sarah."
"Well, it's hard to blame you for that," he allowed. "Very understandable, in fact."
"The way she prances around here in those short skirts, and little tops...," Vicky began, desperately grasping at a defense.
"But, that doesn't make it right," he pointed out, needlessly.
"Are you going to call the cops?" she mumbled.
"No," he said. "If..."
"If," she echoed, positive she knew what he'd say next.
"You get Sarah to fuck me," he offered.
Panic swirled in the pit of her stomach. She stared into his eyes, measuring his resolve. He didn't flinch.
"Why should I let you play with my toys?" she asked.
"Because, if you don't, I will call the police," he threatened, bluntly.
Her short-lived bluster faded.
"I doubt she'll go that far," Vicky opined.
"I'll give you 24 hours to figure out how to make it happen," he told her.
Stunned, she didn't speak, and she blankly scanned the floor.
"You can go now," he said, not waiting for a reply.
Without looking at him, Vicky stood up, and left the office on unsteady legs. Angry and afraid, she trudged home, trying to think of a way out of this.
Normally, Vicky dressed conservatively for work. The next day, however, she modified her standard attire, donning a loose, short, black skirt which contrasted nicely against her pale skin, and barely fell to the top of the thigh high stockings she'd pulled on; a tight, thin, low cut, white shirt over a black lace bra prominently displaying her full, C-cup breasts, and black ankle boots.
During her shift, she could feel the weight of her co-workers leering. Though some of her female colleagues dressed this way on a regular basis, Vicky never had before, and it certainly caused a reaction. It did for her as well. The new level of attention both made her uncomfortable and excited her.
As quitting time approached, she went to the ladies room to freshen up, grabbed her things from her desk, and then made her way to Dornan's office. She hadn't seen him all day. Leaning against the doorframe, she knocked. He'd been waiting.
"I'm glad I didn't have to call for you," he said, without looking up.
"Bob," she said, quietly.
Lifting his head, his mouth fell open as he took in the sight. She could see his eyes lingering on her chest. A tiny spark ignited in the darkness of Vicky's growing despair. For the first time, she admitted to herself that he was not unattractive. Though 15 years older than her 30, she found him ruggedly handsome; standing 6'3" -- looming over her 5'7" -- with a heavy build, square jaw, short dark-brown hair, and blue eyes.
Vicky smiled at his reaction, then sauntered in, turning to place her phone and bag on a small table across from his desk, bending slightly -- allowing him to ogle her ass -- as she surreptitiously aimed her cell phone's camera. He cleared his throat when she sat down, crossing her legs deliberately while he watched.
"Have you come to a decision?" he asked, finally.
"No," she answered, firmly.
"Excuse me?" he returned.
"Why should I help you fuck a girl half your age?" she challenged, her voice even.
"We've been through this, Victoria," he said, loudly. "I'll call the police. You'll be arrested; not to mention fired."
"So, now you're the one committing blackmail," she retorted.
