"In the dim light, he saw a figure leaning against the wall a distance away, sheltered under an umbrella. He squinted through the darkness, trying to make out the person’s features. As the figure began to walk toward him, he was surprised to see that it was Marcia.

She was pretty. He had never noticed before, always seeing her bundled up conservatively in baggy jumpers, her raven hair scraped back into a no-nonsense bun. But now, as she approached, he saw her in a different light. Her face, free from the usual stern expression, was softer, her features more delicate. And her eyes—those were the bluest eyes he had ever seen, deep and piercing.

"Need a light?" she asked, her voice cutting through the silence. She signalled for him to press his cigarette to hers. He fumbled for a moment, their hands brushing as they held their cigarettes together. Their eyes locked, and he felt a spark, a connection he hadn't anticipated.

"Mine’s broken," she smiled, and it was the same secretive smile he had seen last night on the street. His heart skipped a beat, a strange feeling stirring deep inside him.

"Thanks," he murmured, taking a drag and feeling the warmth spread through his body.

"You should go home," she said in a slightly domineering way, her eyes not leaving him. "You look awful."

He paused, his heart fluttering. For some reason, he felt an inexplicable urge to do everything she said. "I didn't know you smoked," he said, trying to steady his voice.

She smiled again, that same enigmatic smile. "There's a lot you don't know about me," she said. "See you tomorrow."

Turning to walk away, her long, baggy skirt blew in the breeze, revealing a glimpse of her legs. As she straightened her skirt, she pulled it up slightly, exposing her skin. To his astonishment, he saw she was wearing a pair of black lace stockings.

James stood there, dumbfounded, watching her disappear into the night. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the Marcia he thought he knew with the woman who had just left him feeling utterly captivated. He took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke filling his lungs as he replayed the encounter in his mind.

"See you tomorrow," he whispered to himself, the words hanging in the cold night air.

He did as he was told and drove home. Fuck. What was he doing? He was going 60 in a 40 zone, he had to get home. He was so hard and found himself jerking off in the living room. Curtains wide open. The sight of her toned legs with those stockings on was now burned into his brain. Fuck he was hard. He came so fast, Jesus christ, so much cum. He wanted to worship her. He wanted to do everything she said. He had never felt so pathetic. What was he doing? She was his subordinate. He needed to be composed. He needed to be professional. 

He drove into work in a daze, he wanted to see her. It was wrong, but his recent interaction with her somehow was pushing him on. He got to the office early, grateful for the Starbucks his PA Jade brought to his desk. He could tell she was keen on him, her pencil skirts were becoming ever tighter as the months went on. She was very attractive, with icy blonde hair and a great figure, but she left him cold. His mind kept wandering to Marcia. He sighed in exasperation when he realised they had a meeting together this afternoon. He had to remain professional. Composed. Marcia arrived on time, her hair long and loose, unusually for her. She wore a belted trench coat, and a pair of manolos. Fuck she looked good. She sat at the desk across from him and held his gaze. Fuck. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching him sweat. He had to remain professional. It was imperative. "Marcia," he began, gesturing for her to sit down, "we're here to discuss your performance. You've made some improvements, and I want to acknowledge that. However, there are still significant areas that need attention."

Marcia sat down, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. She crossed her legs slowly and leaned forward, making James feel even more uneasy. "Go on," she said, her voice low and commanding.

James cleared his throat. "Specifically, your attention to detail and time management need improvement. If these don't get better, we'll have to consider termination."

Marcia leaned back, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, but you’d never get rid of me James.” she said, her tone dripping with challenge.

James tried to ignore the way she was looking at him. "Marcia, I understand this is difficult, but professionalism is key. We need to ensure that your performance meets the company's standards."

As he spoke, Marcia began to unbutton her trench coat, revealing a tight, black latex mini dress underneath. The dress hugged her curves in a way that was impossible to ignore. James's heart started to race, and he struggled to maintain his focus. Jesus christ. “I know you're enjoying this too much.” she said. Staring at him intently.

"Marcia, please," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "We need to stay professional."

Marcia stood up, her movements slow and deliberate, and walked around the desk. She leaned against it, her legs brushing against his. "Professional?" she echoed, her voice mocking. "You think this is professional?" She grabbed his tie and yanked him closer with surprising strength. His heart as if he was going to burst. She pressed her lips to his ears, and what she said made him sweat. She told him that she was going to make him into her little pet. That he was going to serve her, and that he was going to obey her. He was so hard now that it hurt him. She had noticed and giggled with cruelty..

"Oh dear” she breathed “and we’ve not even started. How pathetic.” she pulled down his trousers and gripped his cock firmly. “Marcia” he whined “please.” she ignored him and loosened her grip slightly, and he winced in relief, she was examining his cock with a look of amusement. He felt so pathetic. So worthless. But so turned on. She started touching his cock, surprisingly gently, and softly, rubbing it from the tip downwards. Fuck he was anxious. He thought at any moment she may squeeze the life out of it. It tickled. He closed his eyes.

 “Accept the inevitable” she whispered, and continued touching it gently. Then she started to stroke more firmly, concentrating on the tip. 

“FUCK” he said aloud despite himself. He could feel his excitement building. He had never had his cock massaged before, this was unbelievable. She pulled his foreskin back and continued to stroke the tip. He was shaking with anticipation. He was completely erect now and she was holding him firmly at the base, stimulating his glans with her wet fingers. It was exquisite torture. The pressure she was applying felt like a fucking blow job. Fucking HELL. Suddenly the feeling changed. She was tossing him off now. Hard. and she started to count from ten down.."

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