Career: How to Take What You Want

From down the corridor, Sandra could hear the phones ringing, like a full Sunday choir. The only other sounds audible to her were the buzz of dozens of conjoined voices, and her own heels clicking against the polished floor. The clicking slowed to a glacial pace the closer she got to the office doorway.

Another bank, she assumed. Another fucking bank collapse. She sighed into the half drunk coffee in her right hand. Now she'd have to write some copy in her boss's name, making Colin look brilliant, soaked with industry insight while she stayed slumped in her office chair, taking the beating in her soul. Later, she knew, his very British blue-eyed face would glow on the evening news, discussing the insider information he was privy to, all because she and Jake would have spent their 8 hours a day digging for dirt to get him - and his perfect wavy blonde hair plugs and paid-for smile - ahead. It was soul-crushing work, all to pay the bills to live in a city she wasn't even sure she fit into.

Sandra was only steps away from the wooden double doors. She ran her fingers through her dark, reddish-brown hair, adjusted her tight black skirt and made sure her white button down shirt was properly tucked in. Colin liked his team neat, which clashed with her preference for what she preferred to term 'sloppy-chic'. More than anything else about this job, the dress code was where Sandra felt she had sold out the most. As she reached for the door knob, she snapped her gum and smirked; the gum stays, asshole.

On the other side of the door, the scene was exactly how she pictured: raging executives piling on to their team members, dictating orders for how to handle this crisis. At the far end was her boss, looking at his watch, mouthing orders, while Jake sat right behind him, pretending to take notes. Yes, pretending. She smiled to herself; she knew this would be the case from experience. Jake was a total nut, and honestly one of the very few reasons she could bear to show up to the office every day.

He had only been working there a week when Sandra joined the team; but he, his dancing eyes, mischievous smile and towering 6-foot frame had her believing he'd been there for months as he showed her the ropes (all the wrong ropes). They'd spent the last couple years stifling laugh after laugh, as quietly as they could contain it - their London-born overlord had no detectable sense of humor, and the risks they took for their own entertainment were electrifying. Jake was fearless, at least when it came to mocking the boss behind his back, while Sandra helplessly took Colin's monstrous orders, trying desperately not to crack a smile. This had, of course, led to famously disastrous results in the past, but Jake was relentless, and Sandra couldn't help but crave new reasons to feel a little more alive at their workplace.

As Sandra approached their corner, she could see Jake hunched over and diligently writing something, but couldn't make out what. It looked... legitimate, actually.

"Oh good, you've decided to show up," Colin verbally tossed the remark at Sandra and gestured for her to sit down. She took the seat next to Jake and muttered "wait for real?" as she glanced at his notes. "I've never seen you write anything..."

Colin interjected. "Sandra shut your face and catch up - you've got an assignment and if you two fuck this up, you're done."

_______

"Shut your face and catch up!" Jake teased as the two of them raced for the elevator.

"I'm in fucking heels, Jake!" Sandra, panting slightly, reached for his arm to steady herself. "I hate this place so incredibly much."

"When are you not in heels?" he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Apparently in hell, they force women to wear heels."

Jake pressed the down button over and over. He rarely felt this unnerved but Colin's assignment was... unnerving. He glanced over at Sandra. She was fiddling with her skirt now; he knew this was all so unnatural for her. He could only assume when she got home she peeled herself out of it as fast as possible. For her sake, the office dress code made him furious. Well, if he was being honest with himself... he had to try hard not to stare when she walked by in those too-tight skirts she tortured herself with for Colin's standards. But it wasn't a field day for him, either. He had fallen deeply behind repaying his school loans and at 30 felt hopeless about whatever might come next. He and Sandra were both trapped in this job but on a micro level, Jake knew the situation was way worse for her than it was for him. They could both take Colin's barking, they could both wade through the tedious assignments. But all Jake really needed to get through the day was to see Sandra saunter through that wooden double door by 9:15am, half-empty coffee cup in her hand.

Jake looked back at the elevator. "I can't believe he has us running over to her. What could Colin possibly think could come out of this?"

Sandra looked up at him. "No idea. How the hell are we going to pull this off? I mean... I'm relying on you here..."

"Me? Why me? She's a maneater. She'll probably like you better."

Sandra laughed. "Uh huh. Me. Surely not the tall, charismatic man who will be cracking jokes to crack her bitchiness open so we can get this stupid report and get outta there."

Jake felt his cheeks go warm.

"Besides," Sandra continued while desperately pressing both elevator buttons. "She's not a maneater. She's a person-eater. Remember when they sent that chick from Finance over last year?"

Jake knew Sandra was right. The story of Allison from Finance was lore by now. "Surely there's like, a niche woman-to-woman thing you can take advantage of? I don't know, talk about how uncomfortable heels are or something?"

Sandra rolled her eyes. "She probably loves the way heels feel. I bet she wears them to bed, even."

The ding of the elevator made both of them jump.

Jake really couldn't remember the last time he felt this unnerved.

---------

"We're here to see, um, Felicity?" Sandra hadn't meant for it to come out a question. The receptionist raised her eyebrows.

"Name?"

"S-s-sandra. And this is Jake,"

The petite, brown haired woman behind the desk squinted at her computer screen. "Riiiight. Buckle up. And come this way."

As the three of them started down the hall, Sandra noted the heels on her - ugh I was right. Sandra caught herself sighing audibly, and was slightly taken aback when Jake put his hand on her back.

The thing about Felicity - they both knew from years of hearing her name spat like a curse from Colin's mouth - is that she wasn't a 'tough cookie' or 'hardcore bitch'. She was something else entirely - she toyed with people, she enjoyed torturing people. They both suspected Colin secretly wanted her, though he barely kept it a secret. What stuffed-up British guy wouldn't want to be ripped apart by a long-legged, lean, busty devil woman in stilettos? Verbally, physically, she probably could make any man feel small just by looking at him. And the word around the office was, she really took pleasure in turning men into toys.

The two of them stood no chance of retrieving what Colin wanted, and Sandra couldn't understand why he was wasting his time, let alone theirs, sending them on this assignment.

At the end of the hall, the receptionist turned to face them. For the first time Sandra noticed her blouse was fully open in front, with only a lacy white bra underneath. She eyed Jake but he was attempting to look past her at the wall.

"Ok, this is where we part." The receptionist pushed a button they hadn't seen; the entire wall shifted to reveal a hidden glazed glass double door. "You um -" She was looking them both up and down as the doors parted. She shrugged. "Good luck in there."

---------

Jake walked in first. Felicity was sitting at her desk, looking over some paperwork. He didn't really have a plan, but Sandra was right. She didn't stand a chance with this woman. He'd just have to do his best... surely, someone like this might have a sense of humor, might appreciate some good old fashioned human charm? He didn't feel too sure but it's all he had.

He stepped forward.

"Hey Felicity. It's so great to have a chance to meet you after hearing your praises sung by so many over at the office. I'm Jake, this is Sandra, we work for -"

Felicity looked up. Jake swallowed. Her eyes were bright blue, an intense contrast with her long, wavy black hair. Ok ok. Maybe she's not even human.

She smiled. "Yes. I know who you work for. And I understand why you're here."

"Oh," Jake felt he sounded too relieved as he said it, "well, ok, that's great."

"Is it?" She raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you understand why you're here."

Jake could feel Sandra step forward next to him. He knew her well enough to know she was now frozen in place. With Colin, she could take his insanity, let it wash right over her, something to be peeled away when she got home, like her stifling work clothes.

But this was something else.

Suddenly, Felicity stood up. Jake couldn't stop himself from gaping. He knew from talk around the office she was somewhere around 20 years older than him, in her 50s. But the woman standing before him had a very different... aura... than Jake would have imagined. As she came around the desk, he saw the famous stilettos, and as she leaned against the front of her desk, he felt his eyes slowly follow the lines of her figure, from long, tan legs, which seemed to go impossibly forever, until abruptly his gaze met the edge of her smooth, black mini skirt, in which a sheer red blouse was delicately tucked; buttons were open enough to reveal a matching red bra, in the style of a soft lacy corset. He noticed her full lips matched the color of her top, focusing on her mouth for barely a second before registering just how piercing those icy blue eyes were.

Jake caught her gaze looking him up and down in return; he felt himself get hot in the face when he realized Felicity had lingered just a little too long while scanning his crotch.

She turns men into toys....

"I see," she said in a dissatisfied tone, in response to no one in particular.

Jake racked his brain to understand what was going on; it felt like she had tried undressing him with her stare but was disappointed. So is this what feeling vulnerable is like? he thought. He wanted to turn around to Sandra but couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"Umm... so... Colin mentioned we had some... business to discuss about today's... news..." Jake felt his voice trail off and couldn't believe what he sounded like. Some sexy 50-something is scrambling my wires? What the hell is this?

He cleared his throat. "Right - so we're here to discuss your report, given the state of the third bank collapse this month. Happy to sit and chat, or we can just -"

Felicity held up her hand. "Stop." Jake opened his mouth again to speak - "I said, shut your mouth. You do NOT understand why you're here. You're actually ruining this for your bumbling boss. And I do know you both stand to lose your jobs if you fuck this up.

So you're going to shut. Your fucking. Mouth."

Felicity then gestured over to two armchairs set at the back of the room, far across from her desk. "Sit."

As they slowly made their way to the seats, Jake heard Sandra whisper, "it's not worth it Jake, let's go." His jaw was clenched and he felt anger stirring in him, mixed with the shame he was starting to feel about being in this situation to start with - and with Sandra, no less. It was unprofessional and... He shook his head and sat on the soft chair, which seemed to consume him. Sandra followed.

Felicity spoke. "Get comfortable. It's your last chance for a while."

-----------

Felicity watched the pair gingerly approach the seats at the back of the room. For a split second, she caught Jake instinctively raising his arm to protectively place it on Sandra's lower back, but he hesitated.

With their backs turned to her, Felicity allowed herself a silent sigh. It had been months since her last 'project', and while the dry spell had been rough, she wasn't sure this was exactly the caliber of playthings she was really looking forward to breaking it with. Nonetheless... watching the timidness between Colin's duo stirred something in her.

She shifted on her heels. Mmmm. Between her thighs, Felicity felt the familiar ache of anticipation at the thought of what was to come next in her... negotiation... for Colin's reports.

What was more exciting, the feeble attempt at assertive resistance from Jake, or the absolute mousiness of... Sandra, was it?... cowering behind him. Felicity licked her lips. Both directions were absolutely delectable; she could taste it on the tip of her tongue: How trapped they felt, how desperate they were to be seen but also to hide... what infrastructure they had weaved between them to survive the dead-end gloom of bland corporate life at 30.

Monotonous. Dead-end. Desperate.

Just the thought of their predicament, as she leaned back on the front of her desk... well... she felt the tendrils of warmth slowly radiating between her legs, stirring her awake.

Relax, Felicity... she purred to herself. We haven't even begun...

Once the two had sat down on the plush armchairs across the room, Felicity stood upright and walked back behind her desk. She made a show of fingering several loose papers, scanning their contents, and delicately placing them in a drawer level with her upper thigh. She bent slightly to reach a lower drawer and could feel a gaze - maybe two - on the creamy, exposed skin leading down to the top of her breasts spilling from her red corset-bra. She looked up and caught Jake failing to look away fast enough. The self righteous one cannot resist, of course. She smiled slightly, and pulled out a clipboard.

"Right then. Let's get started." Grabbing a pen off the desk, Felicity walked towards the middle of the giant office. Seemingly out of nowhere, her receptionist from earlier appeared with a stool and placed it directly in front of Jake and Sandra, positioning Felicity with a great view of their nervous expressions and the opportunity for unbreakable eye contact.

------

Sandra watched as Felicity delicately sat on the stool and, with almost a grand gesture, lifted her right leg a little too high in order to cross it over her left thigh. Swallowing nervously, Sandra couldn't take her eyes off the woman's right leg which was gently rubbing against her left, her miniskirt tugging upward slightly. She thought she could see the faint hint of red lace where her two thighs met under the black fabric of her skirt.

"Let's start with you - Sandra." Sandra snapped to attention, pulling her eyes upward, finally meeting Felicity's blue gaze.

"Um, hi." Oh my god I sound so stupid, Sandra thought to herself. She realized she had also crossed her legs, completely subconsciously, and made herself sit up a little straighter.

Felicity flipped through some pages on the clipboard as she asked, "You've been working for Colin for around two years now, correct?"

"Yes... why?"

Felicity looked up and met Sandra's eyes. Sandra immediately looked away.

"And you would say you have been doing an adequate job?"

"Well, I, I mean, I think it's better than adequate." Sandra felt her face get flush. "Colin gets a lot of media placements, and the coverage has been excellent - the best of the partners..."

Suddenly, Felicity stood up. Sandra wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but felt like melting into the armchair in either case.

"Sandra," she said, softly. The way she said her name Sandra could almost feel Felicity's tongue move in her own mouth. "You seem to think you're doing an excellent job."

Sandra was pretty sure her cheeks couldn't get any redder. Heat radiated up through her chest and neck. Her face felt inflamed.

Felicity started stepping towards her. In that moment, Sandra was surprised to feel - something - a tingling sensation, like butterflies in her stomach. The tingling increased as she realized Felicity was stepping around the back of her chair; she jumped as Felicity placed her hands on her shoulders.

"The question is," Sandra felt Felicity's nails dig into her skin - "would I think that?"

Sandra felt Felicity's fingers ease up, and gently begin to massage her shoulders, coming down toward her collar bone. Up, and down, easily maneuvering under her collared shirt. It felt terrifying and deeply relaxing.

"I, um," she found herself whispering in response. Sandra closed her eyes. "I'm... not... sure..."

Suddenly Felicity's hands stopped moving, and abruptly pulled away from Sandra's skin. Sandra couldn't stop herself from turning back to face her.

"'Not sure'. Not sure - is not good enough for me. You're going to have to do better." Before Sandra could finish turning back around, Felicity had come around to her front, grabbing the sides of the arm chair and lowering herself eye level with Sandra. Along with her smooth face, her piercing eyes, and red lips, Sandra had a clear view of her gently heaving breasts, nearly spilling from the top of that lacy corset. Pretty sure it matches the panties, she couldn't help thinking, which made her giggle slightly - before she could stop herself.

"What's funny?" Felicity whispered. She leaned in, her mouth directly over Sandra's right ear. "You're just another pencil-skirted nobody right now." Sandra felt herself holding her breath. "You're a dime a dozen - every girl like you thinks she's destined for more but doesn't actually go for it. It's..." With every word, Sandra could feel the warmth of Felicity's breath gently caressing her earlobe and it made something inside her shiver.

"It's pathetic."

Sandra knew she should be offended, but instead she felt - overpowered. She felt a tingling throughout her body, from her ear down through her chest, down her thighs. She was absolutely frozen in her chair - but her heart was beating hard, and she was suddenly conscious of her own breathing, a deep and steady pant.

Felicity snapped upright. "Right. It's time to move forward." She grabbed Sandra by the arm and pulled her out of the seat. A door Sandra hadn't noticed before slid open behind Felicity's desk.

"Go on." It was a command, Sandra knew. She started walking toward the door, completely powerless to resist Felicity's instruction. For a brief second she remembered Jake was still sitting in the second armchair, but she felt intoxicated, compelled to walk through the door. Colin barked at her every day, but it never made her feel... stripped of choice.

She realized Felicity was following her toward the door; when she got to the threshold, Sandra started to turn around, opening her mouth to say something - and suddenly felt a whack against her ass. She let out an unfamiliar squeal.

"There's no turning back Sandra," Felicity hissed, and nudged her through the door, leaving no time to get any words out before the door closed behind her.

----

"Now," Felicity spun around to face Jake. "Let's focus on you."

Jake felt himself squirm and tried to hide it. He couldn't believe what he just witnessed; Sandra looked completely helpless, but not pained the way she did when Colin was torturing them with corporate tactics. She looked intoxicated, really. And had he seen Felicity lick her ear? Her hair had fallen all around, blocking his view, but she had whispered something to Sandra and then sent her out a secret door... He shook his head. Mind games - this was not what they had come for.

Felicity sat back down on the stool in front of him. Jake looked up at the ceiling while she crossed her legs.

"You've also been working for Colin for two years, yes?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You started shortly before your little companion here." She flipped some pages on her clipboard, tapping on the back of it with her nails. "Hmm. You liked to tease Sandra in the beginning, didn't you?" Jake looked down to make eye contact with Felicity. What the hell? Where is she getting this?