This erotic fantasy circles around the power dynamics in a female-led corporation. Cruel dominant women find ways of tormenting the new male office temp. Confining cubicles, impossible tasks with tight deadlines, and strict company rules are all designed to break him. The story amplifies my own fetishes of shoes, stockings, golden showers, bondage, and acts of service, which become more and more intense with every chapter. Enjoy part one.
Rent was due. He could get job interviews, but anxiety tied him in tight fussy knots so he was never called back. He couldn’t even focus on everyday tasks for fear of the looming uncertain future – responsibility was simply too much to handle. Unfocussed, sloppy, incapable. It had been like this for months and he could no longer see his worth.
It was the break-up that had started it, made him realize how poorly trained he was for independent life. She had kept him under her thumb so snugly, and he was at his best when being squashed down. He would have pushed other men into traffic just to carry her groceries home. She could hold him captive in her gaze so he felt he was the only thing she was looking at, that she was ignoring all but his tiny existence.
Then she asked him to take it to the next level, to come with her to a special party, a gathering of like minds she said, where he would truly have no control and be at the mercy of everybody there. With no clue of what she meant, or understanding of her subtle but persistent training, he grew frightened and refused. He couldn’t take that step into the void, to truly give up ownership of his own body and mind. She left him, frustrated and hurt that he couldn’t see he had earned the position she was offering. And now, no partner, no job and soon to be no home, he signed up with an office temp agency.
It was a bright morning and Miss Hart was walking to work with a bounce in her step. She spotted him from a distance and smirked, pleased with what the temp agency had sent. He was standing outside the locked office, neat, tidy, and nervously fidgeting. The new administrative assistant. She walked closer to the door, keys in hand, noticed he had a shadow of a stoop. That would need to be corrected.
“I’m the CEO here. I hired you. You’re going to help us with the audit today, aren’t you.” she said, deliberately brushing against him to unlock the door.
“Yes, I think so, I’m Nick, so…” She looked directly at him and his lips quivered. It was a thrill to take in his smallness, and she kept her gaze on him till he reddened. This would be so easy. She could already read exactly what would make him squirm, and she hadn’t even put him to task yet. She turned the lights on and smiled to think what a lovely day it would be with this whisper of a man working hard for her.
He followed her into her office. She dropped her purse and coat on the floor next to her desk and sat down. He went to the chair opposite. “Did I invite you to sit?” she asked.
“Not at all, you’re new.” He stood, shifting his feet while she glossed over emails, ignoring him. He was thrillingly still, his only movement a strenuous swallowing as if to prevent a cough or sneeze. His fingers twitched soundlessly. The minutes passed. A sheen of sweat sprung up and beaded on his cleanly shaved upper lip, his eyes fixed on the carpet in front of his shoes. The hum of the lights and the computer droned loud against her quick typing.
Miss Hart finally paused to look up in thought. “Oh!” she jumped. “I’d quite forgotten you were still here. Of course. Follow me.”
He followed her quick spiked heels down the corridor to a desk crammed into a dimly lit corner, boxes of files looming over a chair that swiveled at a drunken angle when he sat.
Miss Hart walked behind him and leaned over, her breath landing warm on his neck. “Nick,” she said in a low voice, “the standards in this place are high. You will probably struggle to match up. I’m going to be hard on you today.” She spoke slowly so the words landed in the right place, “The details are very important. Is that alright, Nick?” He nodded, perched on the edge of the chair, his eyes trained forward.
Then she straightened up and began rapidly explaining how the files were to be marked and ordered, and how much was to be finished by lunch, knowing that when she was done that all he had taken in was her Chanel perfume. She left him to it.
He sweated through the morning, working to make sense of the task with no example to follow and no one to ask. 10:30AM the phone rang at his desk, Miss Hart’s clipped voice slicing through the line, “Are you keeping busy over there?” Without waiting for him to answer, “I have a little errand for you. Scurry down to the cafe across the street and get me two slices of multigrain toast, with raspberry jam and extra butter. On my desk, hot.”
She hung up before he could respond. Fumbling in his pockets, he collected the coins he could and flew down the stairs.
Minutes later, toast in hand, he just avoided being hit by a car to get back in time. He raced up into her office and the paper bag landed on her desk.
She hardly moved but for a disdainful curl of her lip. “Where’s the plate? I don’t eat out of paper bags like a sticky-fingered child.”
“No Miss -”
“Get a plate, Nick.”
“Yes Miss -”
“And a glass of water.”
“Hurry up. I’m getting bored.”
Watching him scamper off, she had to bite her hand quite hard to stop from laughing. He was perfect, so easy to shake up.
He came back with a glass of water and the toast arranged on the plate, a little sloppy, but edible. He placed them gingerly on the desk. “Not there,” she spat, and pointed. He stretched far over the wide wood desk to place them where her finger was. Her eyes met his and he froze, and her face softened into a smile. Staring straight at him she bit into a corner of toast. Swallowed. “Good. Thank you Nick. You can go.”
In the next chapter, Nick is pressed into a bathroom between two women. Check back next week for part 2.
“Audra, this is the newest temp we were waiting for, he’s here to assist with the filing for the audit.”
Audra’s face showed sudden interest. “Ah, here to assist is he?” She turned on all the taps and then stood next to Moira, giving Nick a hard appraising look. “And how’s the assistant doing so far?”
“He’s doing alright, but I suppose we’ll see as the day goes on.” Teeth glinting, enjoying his visible discomfort, they drew closer. He bumped against the counter. Still they inched closer, their eyes dancing over his body, calculating, judging, their snug pencil skirts and bursting buttoned shirts radiating forbidden heat. They pressed themselves tight against him from both sides and he bent backwards, a jolt running through him as shockingly cold water splashed his back. They sprung back at his yelp, and were gone from the room.