Stranger Tales: The Boss

He despised people who were late, and frankly, given how much trouble she was in, he’d expected her to be on time.

He strode to his office door, and swung it open, stepping out into the corridor just as the slender brunette approached.

“You’re late!” he snarled.

Taken aback, she stammered, “I was just bringing these to you, sir, and….”

“Don’t talk back!” He stared down at her. “Just get into my office, and sit down.”

“Yes, sir.”

He watched her as she walked nervously across his office to the chair in front of his broad desk. She was a pretty one: near-black hair, a slender waist, long legs, wearing a fitted grey trouser-suit over a white blouse, her hair pulled back to hang in a plait down her back.

He was going to enjoy this.

“Now, you will listen to me, and you will not talk back.” He closed the door firmly, locked it, and then walked slowly across the office, to sit on the edge of the desk, looking down at her sitting uncomfortably in the chair. “As your new boss, I have read your personnel file carefully, and I have to say that I am not impressed. You are regularly late, frequently disrespectful and clearly lazy. This will not continue. I know that you’ve received warnings before, and under the company’s policy I could fire you right now. You don’t want that, do you, Tanya?”

“Well no, sir, but….”

“That’s good,” he cut her off, “because I don’t want to fire you, either. I want to give you a chance.”

“A chance?”

“Yes, Tanya. Right here, right now, in this office, we will work out a plan of action, a set of changes to your behaviour, that will allow you to stay here, in your job. The alternative is that I fire you. If you even hesitate in co-operating, you will be dismissed. You understand?”

“Yes, sir….” She seemed uncertain, and her brow furrowed as she looked up at him.

“Good. Now, there are two sets of issues at stake, and we will deal with them one at a time.” He was interrupted by a knock at the door and he glanced round irritably to rebuke the would-be intruder, “Come back later!” and then return to the girl. “The first issue relates to your general bearing, the way that you comport yourself. Appearances are everything in business, and yours, frankly, needs some work.”

“Well, what should I do differently?” she asked uncertainly.

“Two things. First, look at your blouse.”

“I thought it was quite nice?”

“It is.” He looked down at her, admiring the sheer fabric. “But you should undo the next button.”

She uncertainly reached up to release the button, so that the fabric fell open enough to show the top of the mounds of her pert breasts. “Like that, sir?”

“And the next.”

Hesitantly she undid the next, revealing the sides of her breasts.

“That’s much more convenient, yes.”

“Convenient, sir?”

He gave no answer, but leaned forward, extending his hand towards her chest. She raised her own hand to stop him, but he caught her wrist and looked her hard in the eye: “I hope you were not going to be… uncooperative?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” He released her wrist, and she lowered her arm, offering no resistance as he slipped his hand into her blouse and grasped at her breast. “You see, much more convenient.” He took her nipple in his hand and squeezed it, making her gasp, and then massaged it firmly, while holding her confused gaze. After a few seconds he let go, and leaned back. “Which brings us to the question of your skirt.”

“But I’m not wearing a skirt….”

“And that’s the question. You’re wearing trousers. Why? Why are you not wearing a skirt?”

“I thought it looked more businesslike.”

“But what would the advantage of a skirt be?”

“I suppose it would be… more… convenient?”

“Very good, Tanya. We’re making real progress today, aren’t we?” he said, as his eyes travelled down her cleavage and to her thighs. “In future you will not wear trousers. So now, take them off.”

“Off? Now?”

“Co-operate, Tanya!”

She slowly stood, unzipped the trousers and slid them down her slender legs, stepping out of them.

He watched her intently. She wore black hold-ups under the trousers, and a very flimsy black silk g-string. “Very good. And I’m pleased to see that you are wearing appropriate underwear. Now in future you will always wear a skirt to work. And it will be a short skirt, just long enough to cover your stocking-tops - because you will always wear stockings.”

“Are they,” she asked, holding his gaze meekly, “also more convenient?”

“Very good indeed.” He stood up and stepped up close to her, lowering one hand to her barely-concealed mound. He stroked the front of her g-string with his fingers, and continued, “You’re going to make me very pleased that I’m not firing you, aren’t you?” He slipped one finger down the front of the skimpy panties, pressing the fabric into her crack. “Which brings us to our second issue: your poor relationship with authority, and your unsatisfactory – your unsatisfying – behaviour. Now, what do you think we can do about that?”

“Should I be more… co-operative?”

“You certainly will!” He continued to stroke at her pussy through the fabric as he assured her, “you will learn to be entirely obedient, and you will learn to satisfy. In fact, to be frank, you will become my personal, private slut.” He pushed his finger deeper into her crack, and found that her panties were getting moist. “I think you’ll enjoy that, won’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, whether or not you enjoy it, is not important. But you will be my own personal whore from now on, unquestioningly obedient.” He slid his finger inside the fabric of her panties, and plunged it into her wet pussy. “Won’t you?”

“Ah!” She gasped, and stared at him wide-eyed. “Yes, sir!”

“Good. Then you can start now!”

“Start?”

“Yes.” He reached up to grab her by the neck, his thumb rubbing the front of her throat. “By sucking my cock.”

“But sir, I think I should….”

“Don’t think, slut!” he snarled, grabbing her long pony tail so that she winced. “Just suck me!”

Dragged to her knees by the hair, she found herself facing his groin, and she watched uncertainly as he unzipped his trousers and let loose his fat shaft.

“Take that in!” he commanded, and he pushed his cock into her half-open mouth, “And suck it deep!” He kept his tight grip on her hair and pulled her onto him, sliding in and out between her tight lips, clamped about his shaft. Each time he pulled her forward he forced her to take him further in, her expression still confused but her breathing deepening, until his balls swung against her chin and his helmet pushed into the back of her throat. “Not choking? You are an accomplished little whore aren’t you?”

“Hmmmphm.”

“What was that, whore?”

He pulled her head sharply back from him, forcing her to look up at him but freeing her mouth to speak.

“I am, Sir. I’m a very good whore.”

“Well then, I’m going to fuck you like a whore!” Then he dragged her to her feet and threw her forward onto the desk, so that she fell face down, feet still on the floor and her buttocks exposed. He grabbed her flimsy panties and wrenched them down to her ankles, and then commanded: “spread for me!”

She placed her feet further apart, and reached around with her hands to her buttocks, pulling her thighs apart to give him the easiest access to her pussy. He pushed a finger into her first, making her sigh, and slid it once or twice, feeling her dampness. Then he positioned himself behind her, and in a single movement ploughed into her up to the hilt. For a few slow strokes he felt her wet and tight around him, and then he began to thrust harder, faster. He grabbed her hair in one hand and pulled it back, holding her down with the other hand so that her back arced and she winced as she moaned, as he hammered into her, his trousered legs slamming against her bare thighs. Then he pushed her flat onto the table, and took her wrists, one in each hand, pulling her arms out straight along her sides. With each remorseless thrust forward he pulled against her, and she found herself lying helplessly unable to support her own weight, face down on the desk, her whole body dragged back to meet each hammering lunge. She lay there quivering, moaning, biting her lip as he continued to pound, until suddenly he pulled out of her and dragged her backwards so that she fell onto her hands and knees on the floor.

He grabbed her hair again and dragged her onto her haunches, and roughly thrust his cock into her mouth as a flood of cum broke, flooding her mouth as he growled above her, waves of the salty cream flooding down her throat and seeping out of her lips. As he relaxed his grip on her, she moved her head back, and licked the semen from the shaft, swallowing all traces of it, and then sat back on the floor.

He zipped his trousers up, and stood back to look at her. With trembling legs, she stood and stepped back into her panties and trousers, then refastened her pony tail, as he told her: “You realise, Tanya, that every day I will call you in here to assess your… performance. Or put another way, at least once every day you will come here to be fucked. And this way, you just might keep your job.”

“Actually sir,” she said, straightening her jacket, ready now to leave, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You can’t fire me.”

“Really? And why not?”

“Because,” she smiled as she wiped the last few drops of cum from her lips, “I’m not Tanya, sir. I’m just a Temp here, and tomorrow’s my last day.”

He stared at her dumbfounded.

“But don’t worry, sir, I’ll be back tomorrow to say good-bye – and I’ll be sure to wear a nice convenient skirt.”