Margaret's Resignation Ch. 01

It was intolerable working in the Office these days. Margaret had worked hard to get here and yet she was thinking about quitting. It hadn't been bad at first- she'd signed on with a respectable firm for a respectable salary. She'd worked hard in college and law school and come away with a 4.0, letters of recommendation, glowing reviews during her internships, so when the firm of Goldman, Goldman and Salt offered her a job with a fast track to partnership she said yes. That was three years ago now and the atmosphere had definitely changed. For starters, the kindly (and matronly) receptionist had been replaced with an airheaded blonde who didn't even know how to transfer a call. It was shocking to Margaret the kinds of tube tops the bimbo would squeeze herself into for "work." It was positively indecent! That wasn't the half of it, though. While the firm had always been a bit of a boy's club the men had remained respectful. Maybe it was fear of lawsuits, after all it's unwise to sexually harass a lawyer, but Margaret was treated as an equal in the early days. Now it was different. It wasn't that anyone said anything inappropriate but rather the way they stared at every woman who walked in. Their tongues might as well have been hanging out of their mouths. Margaret had always been attractive. A redhead, she was 5 ft. 5 inches with a tiny waist, plump rear end and a perky pair of double D's, but she had never in her life felt like a gazelle being stared at by lions until about a year ago when the sexual tension in the office really began to sharpen. She couldn't understand it. At first she thought it was her imagination, then she thought maybe she was giving off the wrong signals, but finally it became impossible to ignore. Conversations would cease when she walked into the room.

Other things were happening, too. Often the receptionists would be in the supply closets for extended periods, and often other lawyers or even interns in the company would emerge looking flustered and red in the face. Margaret had been disgusted. She started looking for another place to work. True, she could probably have sued, but really she wasn't interested in a protracted legal battle against some of the sharpest legal minds in the country. Better to get out clean with a good recommendation and go to work somewhere more comfortable. It's true some of her co-workers had asked her out, and she'd declined politely, saying it was her policy never to date anyone she knew professionally. The truth was Margaret had managed to be so successful because she avoided relationships- they distracted from the success she was trying to attain. She didn't want the emotional drain of a man relying on her for anything, and she certainly didn't want to play pregnancy roulette. She had a no-nonsense reputation and that's how she liked it. Her uptown condo and her desk stacked high with work, the couch and a glass of wine after a long day and that was it. That was her life. Until...

Margaret had been offered a position at another prominent law firm in the area and was coming in to the office to tender her resignation. The senior partner's name was Martin Goldman and she made her way to his office, waited the obligatory fifteen minutes for an audience, and was waved in by an almost-comically busty brunette in the suggestion of a short skirt. This place was absolutely going to the dogs. Martin Goldman sat behind a large mahogany desk and smiled at her as she walked in. He was a good looking man in his early fifties, trim, toned, and, she felt, somewhat more tan than he had a right to be.

"Miss Dayton, good morning. Please have a seat and tell me what's on your mind." His words and tone were polite but his eyes roved over her like locusts over a corn field.

"Good morning, sir. I'm coming in to let you know I'll be leaving at the end of the month. I wanted to give you notice," she said in a calm tone as she sat.

His movie star smile flagged.

"I see," he said, "May I ask why?"

"I've been offered a position at another firm that's a bit closer to my home. The commute is not convenient, and I am interested in getting experience with a more varied case load," she said.

"Ah. Of course," he said, "Well, I know we'd love to keep you. You've been quite successful here and we were considering offering you a partnership. In fact, I was talking to Jerry and Dean about it last night."

"I see. Well, that's very kind. I appreciate that," she said.

"Well, if you're not interested I suppose I have no choice but to accept your resignation," he said, "but I'm afraid I need to conduct an exit interview. It's just a formality but HR will not be pleased if I overlook it."

"All right," she said, pleased with the ease with which he had accepted her dismissal. It wasn't as unpleasant as she thought it would be. She was engaged in these thoughts when Martin buzzed his secretary and asked her to send in a member of HR for an exit interview.

"They'll send someone down in a few minutes," said Martin, "Meanwhile, I try to make it a tradition to have a little drink with a colleague before they leave. Will you join me?"

"It's not even mid-day yet, sir," she said more reproachfully than she meant to.

"Ah, rules," he said, "who needs them?" He rose and poured himself a tumbler of Scotch at the discrete wet bar on the far side of his office. "Sure I can't tempt you?"

"No, thank you."

The door opened and a woman walked in wearing a fashionable pinstripe skirt, mother of pearl silk blouse and six inch heels. Unlike the other bimbos that had been sprouting around the office, this woman exuded intelligence, sophistication, and despite her extremely bountiful bosom and voluptuous curves she seemed to demand respect. Her long dark hair was pulled back and she wore rather stylish dark-rimmed glasses.

"Ah, Elaine," said Martin, "Thanks for joining us. Miss Dayton here is going to be leaving us. I wanted to get the exit interview out of the way."

"Of course," said Elaine. The minute Margaret locked eyes with the woman she felt something strange happen. Elaine's green eyes were like laser beams pointed directly into Margaret's brain. She felt strange. Disoriented for a moment, then strangely calm.

Elaine sat down next to Margaret and asked, "Why are you leaving us?"

"Well, I- uh, um...I-" Margaret felt heat rising in her face. There was something definitely wrong. She had told Martin everything already, hadn't she? No, she had lied to Martin. What lies had she told? She had to tell the same lies to this woman but for some reason the eyes were stealing her ability to prevaricate.

"It's all right," said Elaine leaning in, "You can tell me."

Margaret noticed the hint of deep cleavage as Elaine leaned in. She felt herself thinking strange thoughts, suddenly, about this woman's breasts. What? She didn't like women. She didn't care about breasts, did she? But, it was hard to look up again, hard to meet the green eyes.

"Um. I...didn't, I mean, I don't like the way the men treat women around here. I, um..I'm not a piece of meat..." said Margaret with some effort. There. That was just what she'd told Martin, wasn't it? Where was Martin? She looked around for a moment and found him behind his desk fiddling with something. A CD? Yes, he was putting a CD in his computer. Suddenly a soft, throbbing music was humming through the surround-sound speakers in his office. The back of her head seemed to pulse along with the gentle, continuous rhythm of the music. She found her eyes drifting back to Elaine's cleavage and resting there. She didn't really even realize she was doing it, but it didn't seem important that she stop.

"You don't want to be stared at?" asked Elaine.

"No," Margaret said as she stared, "sexual harassment...is...um...bad."

Elaine nodded sympathetically and leaned in, putting her hand on Margaret's knee. The soft touch was thrilling, yet her body was reacting as her mind was slowing down. What was happening?

"Of course it is," said Elaine, "but why not bring it to HR, silly? We're here to help."

"Here to help?" asked Margaret. Yes, of course. HR was here to help. Why didn't she think of that before? Margaret giggled. She was so silly for not talking to Elaine about all her silly problems, "Oh, yeah..." she giggled again. What was going on? She hadn't giggled in all her adult life. What was this woman doing to her? And the music? Making her giggle. Making her silly. Pliable. She had to get out. She stood.

"I um, I have to, um-"

Elaine smiled, "Is something wrong, sweetie?"

"I have to, I forgot..um...feeling funny. I-"

"Why don't you sit down if you're feeling funny?" asked Elaine reasonably.

It made perfect sense. She was feeling funny. She should sit down. Margaret wobbled down into the chair, her eyes settling once more on Elaine's cleavage. It felt comfortable to stare. To sit. To listen.

"Now, I'd rather this weren't an exit interview," said Elaine, "Instead let's talk about the sexual harassment you've experienced, all right Maggie?"

Maggie nodded. Yes. She should talk about what she had experienced. What had she experienced? She had trouble recalling just now. It didn't seem important.

"How do you dress when you come to work, Maggie?" asked Elaine.

"I, um, like for business, I think..." said Maggie.

"Do the men look at you like you're sexy?" asked Elaine, leaning forward and unbuttoning the two topmost buttons, revealing a generous portion of her enormous chest. Maggie's pussy began to gush. She knew this wasn't right. She had never so much as fantasized about another woman. What was happening to her? Part of her wanted to scream and panic, but her thoughts were slowing down. Slowing down. Slow.

"Yes," Maggie said in a faraway voice.

"Well, then, you silly bimbo, you must be sexy. They wouldn't look at you that way if you weren't. You're not unhappy with your job because you're being sexually harassed, you're unhappy because you don't know you're being sexy."

Maggie knew that was wrong, wasn't it? She hadn't been sexy, had she? Or had she? Or had she not been sexy enough? She didn't quite remember why she had been unhappy. The men looking at her meant she was sexy, didn't it? And Elaine was here to help.

"N-no," said Margaret, fighting hard to push the cobwebs from her mind, "this isn't right..."

Elaine unbuttoned another three buttons, her breasts practically spilled out of her bra- they were easily the biggest and most magnificent breasts she had ever seen. Elaine lifted them out of her silk bra and Maggie's pussy began inexplicably to convulse on its own. Her mind was consumed. She couldn't stop staring. Staring. They were so beautiful. They were so important to her- more important than anything. Her beautiful dark nipples seemed to be moving in a slow spiral that was stealing Maggie's thoughts.

"Maggie, my slutty sexy little bimbo girl," said Elaine in a soft, soothing voice, "you want to be very sexy, don't you, for Elaine? You want to please Elaine's big titties?"

"Yes," said Maggie, "mmm, yes."

"Take off your top, Maggie."

Without a word she pulled off her top to reveal her conservative white bra.

"That bra is not regulation for this firm. You need a sexy, silky one like this," said Elaine, pulling Maggie's hand over to touch the fabric of the bra beneath her big breasts, then let Maggie's hand rest on one of them. Maggie's other hand began mindlessly to massage her wet pussy. Elaine caressed Maggie's big tits expertly through her bra, smiling as she shuddered with pleasure beneath the hypnotic woman's sensual touch.

Maggie began to whimper and moan. She let Elaine slide her out of the ugly white bra, her heavy double D titties dwarfed by Elaine's hypnotits. Elaine gently pulled Maggie's head closer to her right breast, "Drink," she said, "and you'll be my little bimbo slut forever."

"Yes," said Maggie, eagerly sucking Elaine's big, hard nipple. A warm, sweet liquid shot into Maggie's mouth and all that was left of Margaret vanished entirely. After what seemed like a very long time Maggie found that Elaine was fingering her as she lay prostrate on the floor and bringing her to orgasm after orgasm, yet somehow as her body obeyed her mind was waiting. Waiting for Elaine's commands. Waiting for Elaine to tell her who she was and what she wanted. Suddenly Martin Goldman's cock was presented before her as she lay blissfully on the floor of his office.

"You love cock, Maggie. Whenever you see one you have to suck it and let it fuck you," said Elaine as she lay beside her slowly rubbed Maggie's clit. Maggie sat up and took the cock in her mouth, sliding her lips up and down as she licked and finally deep throated. She hadn't done anything like this before, but somehow she knew just what to do. It was like she was a different person- whoever had lived that other life wasn't important now. Only Elaine's words, fingers, lips and tits and Martin Goldman's cock were important to her. It didn't take long for Martin to cum, and Maggie swallowed it all like the happy, giggling bimbo slut she was.

She was in and out of consciousness then. Elaine was telling her things. Important things. New things about how she loved to fuck. She loved to fuck men and women. She loved to show off her body. She must always obey Elaine and Mr. Goldman. How she was very unhappy before, though Maggie didn't really remember a before. Her whole body was pulsing with raw sexual energy. She wasn't sure how much time passed but soon she was bent over Mr. Goldman's desk as he fucked her from behind. In a fog she realized she was licking something sweet and wet, then she realized it was Elaine's pussy. She moaned with pleasure as she looked up to see Elaine's skirt pulled up around her waist, her garters and stockings hugging her thighs as her black silk panties were pushed to the side to make room for Maggie's eager lapping tongue and soft, cocksucking lips. She licked Elaine happily, sliding her tongue deeply inside in and out and making long circles over her pussy lips and hard throbbing clit. Meanwhile, Mr. Goldman's hard shaft was ramrodding her dripping wet pussy, making her big tits bounce on the desk as she licked and fingered her new mistress. He began to shake inside her, fucking harder and faster, calling her a little slut. He began to cum inside of her, pulling her harder and faster by her hips and slapping her generous ass.

"Yes, yes," she squealed and came hard as he did, then collapsed in a wet pink haze of orgasmic bliss.

The last thing she heard before she blacked out was Elaine's voice.

"She's ours now, Mr. Goldman."

(To be continued)