by Liam Foster
I’m going to do something.
No I’m not.
Screw it, yes I am.
I storm towards Damon’s office like a woman possessed, which is not that far from the truth. I’m about to burst into his room, but at the last second I decide to knock.
“Yeah,” comes the gruff reply.
I walk in and stand up straight. Damon doesn’t so much as look up from a memo he’s reading.
“Sir?”
“Don’t call me ‘sir,’” he replies, still not acknowledging me.
“Mr. Caldwell.”
“Damon.”
My throat feels dry all of a sudden. I swallow, which only makes it worse. Damon still hasn’t looked at me. Have I annoyed him somehow? I suddenly feel out of my depth. This could all go very wrong, but I’m committed now.
“Damon,” I say firmly. “I know I’m only a cleaner here, but I still deserve to be treated with respect. I shouldn’t need to worry about getting ogled at work by the resident ladies’ man.” I trail off not knowing what else to say. I should have planned the speech out a little. “We need to keep things professional,” I continue. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”
Seconds pass like hours while Damon continues reading his memo.
“Are you quite finished?” Damon asks, finally looking up at me. There are bags under his eyes, but he’s still so God damn smoldering.
I nod sheepishly and wait for him to speak. I keep waiting and waiting.
Should I say something? Should I apologize?
“Close the door,” he says firmly.
Oh shit, I’m going to get fired. This was a really bad idea. Why the hell did I come in here and tell off my boss?
I don’t technically need to close the door because there are only two other attorneys in the building and they’re at the other end of the floor. This doesn’t seem like the time to argue.
“Lock it,” he adds.
I do as he says. My stomach contracts as the lock clicks into place. I turn back to face him and try to look stern. If he thinks I’m weak then my little speech will have all been for nothing. If I’m going to get fired, I might as well go out with a bit of pride.
“Come here,” he commands.
My legs move without any order from my brain. I stand opposite him on the other side of the desk. He shakes his head and points to the floor next to him.
I stand where he tells me, but I don’t know why. Damon leans back in his chair and just stares at me. This isn’t what I had in mind when I gave my speech about being professional.
“Why did you come in here and give that little speech?” Damon asks eventually.
I’m wondering that myself. I came in here to tell him off, but now I’m not so sure. That’s the excuse I used, so I’ll have to stick with it.
“I want to maintain a professional relationship,” I say calmly, looking slightly above his head as I talk. I can’t look at his eyes—or anywhere else on his body—without going weak at the knees.
“What part of our relationship wasn’t professional before?”
“Well, uh… you kept looking at me.”
Christ, Kara, do you have any idea how stupid that sounds? You’ve come in here and made a big fuss because you think your boss is looking at you funny. I’ve had bosses and teachers with wandering eyes in the past, but none of them have looked like Damon. He has higher standards than overweight cleaners.
“I look at a lot of people, Kara. It doesn’t mean I plan to fuck them.”
Plan to fuck them. Not want to fuck them—plan to fuck them. I wonder if a woman has ever turned him down?
“I think you’re confused,” Damon continues. “From my point of view, it’s not me who needs to act professional; it’s you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Damon reaches out and touches the soft cotton of my blouse. His fingers come within inches of my breasts. I hold my breath, but he only fingers the material before moving down to my skirt. He brushes the fabric without applying any pressure to my skin. This is so wrong, but I don’t consider stopping him.
“You dressed casually your first day on the job,” Damon says. “Now you’re dressing to impress. Do you deny it?”
“I… I’m just…”
“I’ll take that as a no. I’m the only one in the office when you’re here, so it’s not hard to figure out who you’re trying to impress. So, I have to wonder, why go to the effort of dressing up for me if you’re going to come in here and insist I don’t pay you any extra attention.”
This is all Samantha’s fault. She’s the one who made me dress up for work to look nice for Damon. I mean, I didn’t exactly put up much of a fight, but it’s still her fault.
“I like to look nice at work,” I reply. “That’s not a crime.”
“You wouldn’t be the first woman to dress up to impress me.”
“I’m not—”
“It’s not professional to lie to your boss. Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?”
I stand there open mouthed, unable to complete the lie. “Would you like me to dress more plainly?” I ask.
“No, I like you like this. However, there is one more thing you should do if you really want to impress me.”
“What’s that?” I ask. Whatever it is, I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious. That’s all.
“I prefer my women not to be wearing any panties. They just get in the way.”
I nod even though I don’t understand. Surely, he doesn’t expect me to come to work without any panties on?
“Do we have an understanding?” Damon asks.
I nod again, my body completely betraying my better judgment. Why the hell am I going along with this crap?
“Then you can leave,” he adds. “I have work to do.”
I walk slowly and calmly out of the office, but the second the door is shut, I run straight to the bathroom and throw cold water over my face. It doesn’t help. I’m burning up inside and it’s nothing to do with the temperature or even embarrassment.
I lock myself in a stall and hitch up my skirt. I lean against the side, my left hand on the toilet paper dispenser for support as my right hand slides quickly under my soaking-wet panties.
I’ve never needed relief this badly before. I’m going to explode if I don’t come. I imagine Damon’s fingers sliding up my skirt and ripping my panties off, before sliding his fingers inside me. My fantasies are usually slow, romantic, and methodical, but there’s no time for that. I’ve barely touched my clit when I feel my legs shaking uncontrollably as the heat spreads through my core. My imagination skips forward to me lowering my pussy down on Damon’s massive cock
I quickly reach over and flush the toilet to create some noise. I stay silent for the initial explosion within me, but eventually a deep groan escapes as the subsequent tremors work through my body.
I sit on the toilet for ten minutes until my breathing has returned to normal and then I get back to work with a constant feeling of guilt clouding my emotions. What came over me? I’ve never done anything like that at work before?
Damon demeaned me and showed no interest in me whatsoever. Do I get off on that kind of thing now? If so, I need to quit this job, because Damon is trouble.
Trouble is the last thing I need right now.
Chapter Six
Damon
I almost don’t mind working late these days. Almost.
This deal is still driving me fucking crazy, but there’s a certain cleaner hanging around the office at night who’s captured my attention.
I still can’t quite believe what happened last night. She told me off. I’m usually subtle when staring at women, but I guess I’d been a little too obvious with her. Still, I’ve never been scolded for having a wandering eye. For a few moments, it looked like all my fantasies about fucking the cleaner were going to remain as just that—fantasies.
But I had a suspicion there might be more to it. How right I was.
She
was putting on an act and she almost had me fooled. Unfortunately for her, the body is not a great liar. When I ran my fingers over her skirt, I could feel the heat emanating from between her legs. I nearly demanded she take her panties off there and then, but I didn’t want to risk scaring her off.
Tonight will be the test. If she’s not wearing any panties then I’ll know for sure.
I need to know one way or the other, because she’s consuming my every thought. I’ve got enough fucking work to do without thinking about fucking the cleaner all the time. Being busy at work usually keeps my mind away from other distractions; not this time. I had to crack one out before bed last night and then again in the shower this morning.
There’s a knock on my office door and my cock stirs awake until I realize it’s still the morning and it won’t be Kara on the other side of the door.
“Come in,” I yell out.
Heather walks in slowly, unable to move at normal human speed on those fucking heels she insists on wearing.
“We have a couple of new client engagement letters for you to sign,” Heather says, placing the papers down on my desk. She hands me a pen and leans over the table to show me where to sign while also giving me a good view of her cleavage.
She’s been trying to fuck me since she started six months ago. I wouldn’t have hired her in the first place, but John insists on dealing with the hiring of staff. He thought he was doing me a favor by recruiting such a voluptuous set of assets to be my secretary, however she’s been a pain in the ass from the moment she arrived.
“That everything?” I ask, after signing the papers and doing my best to avoid looking down her top. I don’t like the girl, but I’m only human.
“Yes, Sir,” she replies. “Would you like me to stay late tonight?”
“No, why?”
“I noticed you’ve been working late and thought you might like some help.”
“It’s nothing you can’t deal with in the morning.”
“Well, maybe you’d like some company then. It can’t be nice working her all by yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? If you get tense, I give a great—”
“I said, I’m fine. If there’s nothing else for me to sign, you can leave.”
She exhales dramatically and storms out the room as best she can while staying upright on those heels.
I don’t have the time or patience to deal with a fucking moody secretary right now. I can either fuck her to cheer her up, or get rid of her. Easy decision.
John deals with most of the HR crap, so I tell him to give Heather a different job in a way that doesn’t land me in a sexual harassment law suit.
John replies to my email almost immediately. You want me to sort out a replacement?
I type ‘yes’ and I’m about to hit send when my finger pauses over the mouse. There is one woman I’d like to see around a little more often. I delete the message and ask to see Kara’s resume instead.
Even though I’m not actively involved with recruitment, I still see resumes all the time from desperate attorneys trying to land jobs. They all look the same for the most part; law schools teach lawyers to do things in a very particular way and that includes job hunting.
Kara’s resume looks… different.
She went to college which initially takes me by surprise, until I remember that it’s damn near impossible to get a graduate level job out of college these days. Still, she has a decent GPA and went to a good school. It’s a little weird for her to be a contract cleaner.
Judging by the dates, Kara worked a couple of jobs while in college which makes her high GPA all the more impressive.
But there’s a gap. Just over a year. Gaps in resumes are always a bad sign. This one comes after college and before she started the cleaning job. I can’t imagine she spent time in prison, which is a common reason for a gap on the resume. Maybe she was just looking for a graduate job and then gave up looking. It doesn’t matter.
I reply to John’s email and ask him to contact Kara. It’s about time I gave her a hard time in my office.
“Come in.”
Kara walks into my office doing her best to look confident even though I can tell she’s nervous. She looks radiant under the sunlight steaming into my office. This is the first time I’ve seen her in natural daylight and she looks even more beautiful than usual.
She’s wearing a wrap-around dress that looks like it would open with one quick tug of the strap. It’s also loose enough that I could pull it up to her waist and fuck her on the desk. Damn, having Kara around during the day is going to be distracting. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Oh well, it’s too late now.
“I’ve been looking at your resume,” I say, when the silence has dragged on a little too long. “Why are you a cleaner?”
“Because I enjoy cleaning toilets,” she snaps back. “There’s nothing I enjoy more than getting down on my knees and scrubbing a toilet bowl. It’s immensely satisfying.”
I smile. I like Kara’s feisty side. “Fair enough. What I meant was, why a cleaner and not something else? You could get a better paying job if you wanted one.”
“Tell that to all the hiring managers who never so much as respond to the job applications I send out. I’m either over-qualified or under-qualified.”
That sounds believable enough, and yet I’m convinced she’s lying, or at least leaving something out. Still, we all have our little secrets.
“I want you to work here,” I say.
“I already work here.”
“No, I mean I want you to work for me.”
Kara frowns. “What do you want me to do?”
Now there’s a loaded question. Deep breaths, Damon.
“I need a secretary urgently and I think you’d be just the woman for the job.”
“In other words, you want to boss me around all day?”
I shrug. “I like to give orders and, unless I’m very much mistaken, you like to receive them.” I lean forward on the desk. Kara flinches as if scared of me. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. “How would you feel about being at my beck and call every day? You’d have to come when I say. Would you like that?”
Kara looks around the room quickly before looking me in the eyes with a passion that I’m desperate to uncover.
“No,” she says firmly.
“No?”
“I’d rather be a cleaner.”
Well, fuck. Think, Damon. “Uh, there might be a bit of a problem on that front.”
“What kind of problem?”
“I’ve fired your cleaning company,” I lie. “You’ll probably get an email soon saying that there’s no work for you here tonight.”
“Why? Please don’t tell me you did that just so I’ll work as your secretary?”
“When I want something, I get it. You’d do well to remember that.”
Kara sighs loudly and shakes her head. “Fine. You’ve not left me much choice.”
“Good. Go see John. He’ll get you sorted.”
I stare at Kara’s ass as she storms out of my office. I’m going to get that view multiple times a day now, although that might be all I get. I didn’t exactly do myself any favors by pretending to fire her previous employer.
I quickly jump out of my chair and watch Kara walk down the hall.
Totally worth it.
Chapter Seven
Kara - One Week Later
Everyone here hates me. All the lawyers treat me like shit and the support staff are always talking behind my back. They think I’m screwing Damon. How else does someone go from being a cleaner to a secretary with barely an interview. If you can even call what Damon and I did an interview.
Fuck, he’s so infuriating. He sat there and told me he was only giving me a job because he wanted me to be his slave, and yet I still went along with it. I somehow found the courage to reject him, but it was only a matter of time before I changed my mind. Him firing the company I work for was just the excuse I need
ed to take the job and be under his control all day.
When he calls my name, I come running. I’m in and out of his office so much I might as well move my desk in there. Half the time he doesn’t even want anything. It’s like he’s testing me, seeing how much he can get away with. I’m as clueless as he is. Where would I draw the line? I’m already dressing more slutty than usual and that’s all for him. He never asked me to do it—not directly—but I can’t fight the urge to look my best in front of him and that involves a couple of open buttons on my blouse and a push up bra.
Despite all the weirdness, this is a damn good job that I’m going to cherish until I’m inevitably found out as a fraud and shown the door. I get paid nearly twice what I earned as a cleaner and if I last more than three months, they’ll give me healthcare. I’ve never had health insurance in my entire life. Unfortunately, it’s not me who needs it.
“Kara,” Damon yells from his office.
I jump out of my seat, but then pause and wait a few seconds. I don’t want him to think I’m just sat at my desking waiting for him to summon me, even though I pretty much am. I smooth out my skirt and make sure I’m flashing a bit of breast.
Just think of the salary, Kara. You can’t even afford to repair your car, let alone all the other bills.
“You called?” I ask, as I walk into his office holding a pen and a notepad.
“I need another cup of coffee,” Damon replies.
That’s the third one today and it’s not even three in afternoon yet.
“Anything else?”
“How about a smile?”
I stare at him angrily. Damnit, he’s an asshole sometimes. I hate him and yet the corners of my mouth are turning up into a smile. I push them back down and probably end up looking constipated.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” I reply.
“I need you to phone Sarah at Clark Conway to check that the mediation is still scheduled to go ahead tomorrow morning. That’s all.”