The Personal Assistant

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Her boss brings out her true nature.
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Chapter 1 - Sam

I first noticed her when I was walking through the reception area. Maybe it was the fact that she was very attractive, and the way she glanced up from the magazine she was pretending to read. She looked at me, then dropped her eyes, then looked again. The second look was quick, a glance like a dog might give you when it is slinking away.

Now most women will look away when they feel a man's eyes on them. They know that to look back for more than a moment is an invitation to be approached. Her second, furtive look indicated an interest, and nervousness. It intrigued me, grabbing my attention and making me look at her more carefully.

She was a well preserved, middle-aged women, probably around 45 or 50. Her expensive-looking business suit and her general bearing signaled an upper middle class background. The open jacket to her suit revealed a pair of substantial breasts, which set high on her chest and greatly enhanced her femininity. It seemed to me that her blouse was a little tighter than it needed to be.

When I give a woman a second look I always check her legs and ankles. Slender calves and ankles whet my appetite for further exploration. This woman in her sheer stockings and four inch heels passed my inspection. I wondered what she was doing there.

My name is Sam, and I am the CEO and owner of my own advertising agency. I employee some twenty people—account executives, writers, artists, web site designers, and others—and we occupy two floors in a high rise office building in a large city. On this morning I had arrived as usual at about ten o'clock and was looking forward to interviewing a number of young ladies for the job as my personal assistant.

I had given specific instructions to Karen, my human resources manager, about the kind of person I wanted. My personal assistant had to be female, young, pretty, and above all accommodating to my every wish. Being rich and powerful meant little if you could not take advantage of the situation to indulge your passions. Karen was well aware of my sexual tastes, as she shared many of them. Her management position in my company was due in part to her willingness to play all sorts of sexual games with me.

The first thing I did on entering my corner office was to pick up the phone and call Karen. "Well, have you lined up some suitable applicants for me to interview today?"

"Well sir, I do have one that I think you will find interesting. In fact she is waiting in the lobby right now."

So the woman I had noticed was here to apply for my job. That was interesting, but somewhat surprising.

"Karen, I told you I wanted a young, exceptionally pretty assistant. I need an attraction like that to help me sign up new accounts."

"Trust me," said Karen in a conspiratorial tone. "This woman is pretty enough, and I talked with her a long time. Under your guidance I think she will please both you and your prospective clients, and maybe me as well."

Karen's implications were clear. "Umm.. tell me more," I said.

"Her name is Vicky. She was married to a successful businessman for twenty years and has never had to work. A month ago the guy ran off with his secretary. Vicky loves her large house and agreed to take the house in exchange for minimal alimony. Now she barely has enough money to buy food, let alone keep up the house."

"So, another bad luck story. What makes her so suitable as my personal assistant?

Karen laughed. "You know me. I got her to talk about her sex life, or lack thereof. Her husband never cared about her fantasies or her pleasure. She is highly sexed and frustrated, but thinks of herself as a good girl who should not need sex. I picked up on the signs; she is a latent submissive who is ripe for a strong man. You could be the one to break her in."

That thought brought me to instant hardness. Karen knew me so well.

"Ah, you little vixen," I said. "What makes you think she will submit to my outlandish tastes and behavior?"

"She is vulnerable—almost desperate. And I have laid the groundwork for you. I told her you would be a demanding, but fair boss, and if she were willing to obey you without question in all things you would take care of her and pay her well. When I said those things I could see her nipples get hard under her blouse."

Now Karen really had my attention. "I saw her in the lobby," I mused. "She does appear to have a good body."

"You bet she does. I could find you a sweet young thing who might look and feel better, but she would probably be hung up on her own attractiveness and not ready to let herself go the way you want."

"Why not?" I asked innocently. "You are a sexy, sweet young thing with a tight body and I can turn you into hot custard."

"I'm not all that young anymore," she laughed. "Remember my twenty-ninth birthday was last month. Besides I am an exception, and you got my number early on."

"Yea, but you have a killer body. I'm getting hard just thinking about you."

"Cool it big man. Go get Vicky and interview her. You can enjoy dominating her and still have me whenever you want."

"Okay. You convinced me. But I may want you to talk to her after my interview."

"No problem. I would enjoy that. Maybe I should stay late tonight so we can compare notes."

"It's a date," I said and hung up. My heart was thumping in my chest as I straightened my pants and left my office to go get Vicky.

Chapter 2 – Vickie

I can't believe I opened up so much during that interview with Karen. She had such a non threatening way of asking direct questions, and I guess I just need to talk to someone. In the past few months I have been so frustrated, sexually and every other way. I'll bet Karen has plenty of sex in her life, given that body of hers.

It was really interesting the way she seemed to empathize with my need to be in relationship with a strong man. That bastard I was married to for so long never treated me the way I craved. Mostly he did his own thing and let me do mine. I thought he had lost interest in sex completely, but then he ran off what that tart of a secretary. She's probably all looks and no passion. To hell with them both.

After my interview with Karen I had this strange feeling of excitement in my stomach. When that good looking man gave me such a frank appraisal in the lobby I wanted him to seize me by the hair and take me to his cave. It was embarrassing; I had to look away.

What's the matter with me? I am here for an interview, not a BDSM session. These old fantasies of mine don't have a place in this business environment. Besides I could never act on them anyway. I am an educated, sophisticated woman, not some man's toy. It would be so humiliating to be bossed around and made to do unspeakable things. Still...

I have to stop thinking about these things and get my mind back on preparing for the interview. My work experience is so thin, and I need this job so badly. How am I going to convince this man that I would be a good personal assistant?

Chapter 3 – Sam

I returned to the lobby and walked right up to her. "Hello Vickie. My name is Sam and I understand you are applying for the position of my personal assistant. Please follow me to my office so we can get acquainted."

Vickie seemed surprised when I introduced myself as the one looking for a personal assistant. She obviously remembered me as the guy who had given her the once over earlier.

"Oh, yes sir. I am pleased to meet you," she said as she rose and hurried after me. I walked rapidly down the hall to make her struggle to keep up. It was part of my plan to put her off balance and break through her prime and proper façade.

"Here we are," I said, moving behind my desk. My office was huge and included a large, high table that I used to spread out brochures and ads we were working on. It had sturdy, chrome legs and a top of thick black glass. Several padded, adjustable height stools were pushed up against the table.

I spoke to Vickie. "Bring one of those stools over in front of my desk and take a seat. I like to see all of a person when I interview them, and my desk gets in the way when they sit in regular chairs."

The use of the stool was one of Karen's inspirations for conducting interviews of females. Climbing onto the stool invariably caused their hemlines to rise, usually well over their knees. The way a woman handled the situation said a lot. Some of them took advantage of the seemingly innocent opportunity to show off their legs; others were very uncomfortable and constantly squirming to pull their dress down. Vickie was in this latter category, but the way she did it ratcheted up the sexual tension in the room.

I began to question her. "Have you ever served as someone's personal assistant before?"

"No sir, but I am willing to learn."

"What type of office experience have you had?"

"Well sir, the truth is that I have just entered the job market. Up to this point I have been an old fashioned housewife." She smiled as she tried to make light of her lack of qualifications. I liked the way she kept calling me "sir".

"What do you think the duties of a personal assistant might be?" I asked.

Vickie squirmed again on the stool and pulled on her skirt. "I suppose it would be like a secretary, scheduling meetings, making travel arrangements, things like that."

"Are you uncomfortable on that stool?"

"Oh no sir. It's okay."

"Then stop squirming and let your skirt settle where it will. You have quite nice legs you know."

Her face reddened like a tomato in the summer sun, but she stopped moving. I could see her chest heave as she took a deep breath.

"As my personal assistant you would be doing the kinds of things you mentioned, but also quite a bit more. I want someone to help me entertain my good clients and close deals with new ones. Also, I have some personal needs that my assistant must attend to."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you would have to be available to work late and travel with me when necessary. Would that be a problem?"

"No, not a problem. As Karen probably told you, I am alone right now."

"Did Karen also tell you that I require absolute obedience?"

Vickie's eyes got wide and she shifted around again on the stool. "Yes, she did mention something about that. I wasn't quite sure what she meant."

"She meant that you must do anything I tell you – anything. Of course you could always quit whenever you wanted, but you would get no severance pay and a bad reference."

"I see..." She was flustered and did not seem to know how to respond to the implications of what I was saying.

"Do you? I told you to stop squirming in your seat, and yet you did it again."

"I didn't realize....."

"It's really very simple. You listen and respond. I wanted to look at your legs and told you to hold still. Instead you tried again to pull your skirt down."

She looked flustered and uncertain about what to do. "I don't know if I'm ready for a job like this. This is a new situation for me."

It was time to take the interview to the next level and see how far this woman was willing to go. If Karen had judged her correctly I would soon see some signs that she was sexually excited by the situation. I stood and walked over to a credenza that was against one wall. Leaning down I opened the sliding door and removed a black leather riding crop.

"This job as my personal assistant would pay you five times what you could get at any other job. But you would have to accept that even the slightest disobedience has its consequences."

Vickie's eyes never left the crop as I moved toward her, tapping the flexible leather against my leg. Slowly I circled her, as if I were trying to decide which part of her body should feel the sting. Finally I lifted the end and used it to trace a line down her spine to the top of her ass.

"Do you understand, Vickie?" I whispered in her ear.

She licked her lips. From the way she was breathing I knew she was turned on. "Yes sir, I understand."

"Do you want the job?"

There was a long moment of hesitation. "Yes sir. I think I can handle it."

"We shall see. There will be a thirty day trial period." I rested the crop on her shoulder. "Open the jacket on your suit and stick out your breasts."

That was the moment of truth. There was no longer any doubt about what she would have to endure if she took the job. After taking another deep breath she shucked off the suit coat and arched her back. The jacket dropped to the floor. Her tits strained against the thin fabric of her blouse, protruding like an offering to appease an angry god.

I slid the crop under her chin and used it to lift her head so that she was forced to look at my eyes. "Are your breasts sensitive, Vickie?" I asked

"Ohhh.... yes... very.... please don't hurt them..." Her words came out in little bursts.

The crop slowly descended from her neck, and then rose again as I let the leather flap on the end climb over one of her firm mounds. When it reached the peak I could feel the edge of the flap catch against a stiff nipple. Gently I sawed the leather back and forth, like a violinist playing a long note to tune the orchestra.

"OH MY...."

"Shoulders back and hold still!"

When I thought her nipple had grown and hardened as much as it was going to, I lowered the crop to rest on her knee, just below where her tight skirt was gripping her thighs. Then I inserted the little flap under the edge of her skirt and lifted.

"Are you wearing panties, Vickie?"

"Of course," she said in a small voice.

"I hope you are not wearing panty hose. I dislike panty hose."

Her face colored again. Having a man ask her about her underwear was not something she was used to. "Yes sir, I'm afraid I am. I always wear panty hose when I need stockings."

"As long as you are working for me you will never wear them again. You either get stockings that stay up by themselves, or you wear a garter belt. Is that clear?"

For a moment her eyes flared with indignation. "I never..."

"Now take them off!"

"I beg your pardon....."

"You heard me. Drop your skirt and take off your panty hose. Then put your high heels back on."

"You're not serious! Someone might come in."

"Yes they might. Once you are my personal assistant that won't matter. But since this is just an interview I will respect your concerns and lock the door."

Her eyes followed me as I went to the door and turned the key. "There," I said, putting the key in my pocket. "Now no one can get in....or out."

I put special emphasis on the "or out" to let her know that she could not leave without my consent. It was important that she feel she had no choice but to submit to my whims. That sense of inevitability would help her let go and give free reign to the lust that I knew was bubbling just below the surface.

Still standing by the door I waited for her to obey my command. She seemed frozen to the stool, not quite ready to cross the line into submission and disrobe in my office. Her eyes dropped and she began to sob.

"I don't know.. I don't know... it's too much......"

Angrily I crossed the room and slapped her across the cheek. "Get up and drop that skirt! I've had enough of your indecision."

When I raised my hand again she quickly slid off of the stool and began working at the clasp at her waist. I pulled the stool back and sat on it myself, watching her face. Tears trickled down the pink skin where I had slapped her.

The skirt came open and rolled over her hips to lie in a pile at her feet. She stepped out of her shoes and shimmied the panty hose down her legs. Then, balancing on one foot at a time, she pulled off the stockings. Finally she slipped back into her high heels and stood facing me, a resigned look on her face.

It was as erotic a picture as I had ever seen. Her long bare legs disappeared up under her hanging blouse, which almost but not quite hid her bikini panties. My already stiff cock hardened until it was almost painful.

"Step away from the skirt and walk around the room," I ordered, tapping the back leg of the stool with my crop.

This time she did not hesitate. "In for a penny, in for a pound," she muttered under her breath as she paraded herself in front of me. She seemed proud of her body and its obvious effect on the hump in my pants. In her high heels she swayed and twisted, turning to give me a view of her from every angle. The eyes were hot and focused on me and my reaction.

"I will be a good personal assistant for you," she purred.

"Come here and stand in front of me," I said. "That's it. Now move your feet apart."

She did as I instructed.

"Good," I said. "Now put your hands behind your head."

It was a position of total vulnerability and submission. Although her tits with their pointy nipples were covered by her blouse, the material was thin and those big melons were inches from my mouth and hands. There would be a time very soon when I was going to give those babies a good going over. For now, however, I wanted to draw out the process of her surrender.

I looked into her eyes. "Hold very still. I need to test your reactions."

Slowly I brought the crop up between her legs, caressing first one thigh and then the other. As it went higher it lifted her blouse and revealed her panty-covered pussy, which seemed to swell in anticipation. A soft moan came from deep in her body.

"Ohhhh...."

"Vickie, you are a hopeless submissive. You need a man like me to take control of your body and make it sing." The crop touched her pussy and the soft leather pressed into her.

"OHHH GODDDD....."

I wanted to draw her out and make her admit her desires. "Have you ever felt this way before? Has a man ever made you submit to him totally?"

"Noo..... It's not right.... Don't make me do this." She protested weakly, even as her rotating hips betrayed her. I twisted the crop and drew the edge of the flap between the lips of her pussy. Her eyes closed and the muscles in her ass began a rhythmic contraction. It was clear to me that another minute of this would put her over the top.

I withdrew the crop. "I am going to make you do whatever I want. You do understand this don't you Vickie? If you take this job you will be mine to play with as I please. Your body has craved this for a long time. Now maintain that position."

Sliding off the stool I walked behind her and studied the curve of her ass and legs. Her mature body had its soft, fleshy places, but on the whole it was toned and firm. I have always admired women like her with small, rounded buttocks, just big enough for one cheek to fit in a man's hand. Vickie didn't move as I cupped her and squeezed.

"Very nice," I said. "It will be a pleasure to spank you when you are naughty."

"Ahhh....," she whined in a tone that indicated both excitement and acceptance.

"Now miss Vickie, it is time for you to decide. Should I call Karen and have her come sign you up as my personal assistant? You would begin tomorrow at a salary of $75,000 with full benefits. We could make it a 30 day trial. What do you say?"

I was facing her again and lifted her chin with my hand. Her body was shivering, crying for more stimulation from my hands and the crop. In her aroused condition there was no doubt about how she was going to decide.

"Yes," she said in a small voice. "I need the job. I want the job. I will do as you say."

"Good," I said and went to the phone to call Karen.

Chapter 4 – Vickie

My god what was going on? In my wildest dreams I never imagined an interview like this! There I was, standing half naked in a man's office after meeting him only half an hour before. I had fantasized about having an affair with an attractive boss, but this was crazy. He had almost made me cum a few minutes ago, and now he was calmly talking on the phone.

How did he know I would not scream and run out of his office? It must have been that bitch Karen—she had probably told him how desperate I was, and how horny. What was I supposed to do, for god's sake?

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