Office Girl Allison Ch. 12

Office Girl Allison Ch. 12 - The Competition

© William D'Ark

This story is NSFW and for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains graphic language and numerous sexually explicit scenes related to power exchange and exhibitionist-voyeur relationships, as well as bondage, discipline, and sado-masochistic (BDSM) lifestyles that may be considered offensive by some readers. All depicted sexual and/or BDSM activity in this work is intended to be expressly consensual between adults. All characters and events are entirely fictional and any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental.

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(Sir Narrating)

Had Adele misunderstood my request for selfies?

Maybe I should have been clearer. She was suddenly sending me naked-pics instead of images I could use in the client brochure I was crafting. Were the pics a joke after our conversation about her coming to work braless?

I wasn't complaining, mind you. I was trying to figure out what to do about it. Should I let her continue? Tell her to stop? Or wait to see where it would all lead.

Something good might come from it, I considered. Something personal instead of business-oriented. Adele is... an interesting woman.

Like my contract office submissive Allison, Adele was an alert service professional in her late twenties. She brought data management skills and a high degree of rational thought to my small team. Plus she had an upbeat, outgoing personality that made it hard for people to tell her no. She was of medium height, shorter than Allison by a couple of inches, with a pretty, round face and slim figure graced by firm compact breasts and inviting nipples (also like Allison) that she willingly shared beneath a thin, short sleeved, scooped-front tee worn to the office that Thursday. Why come to work braless and challenge company dress codes? According to Adele her ex-husband had pushed her out the door dressed like that for the holiday 'work fling' I had scheduled for our team.

It's a long story about why she capitulated to his orders, their being divorced and all. Before their breakup the couple had a kind of dom-sub relationship (my words) where he was in firm control based on what Adele had described.

I was intrigued not only by Adele's looks but by the more... unconventional behavior she was suddenly showing. This was not the Adele I knew. In my eyes she was a conservative, church going mom trying to raise a grade school age daughter all by herself.

Also like Allison...

Was a pattern forming here? Hmm...

You can probably guess my decision about the naked-pics. After working together so many years I considered Adele's conduct to be playful and consensual. There was nothing too overt or disruptive affecting me or team dynamics. So yes... Let's see where it goes, I decided.

At the same time I considered another possibility for the two women. Could there be a competition between them?

Competition can be a good thing, bringing out the best in a team if it's managed well. Assuming I was on the right track, was a rivalry developing? About who could be the smartest contributor? Or the prettiest, sexiest team member? It couldn't be about who would become the best office submissive... Who would make the better lifestyle slave... Because Adele knew nothing about the daytime power exchange relationship between Allison and me. And she knew nothing about my lifestyle preferences outside the workplace.

Or so I wanted to believe.

Even so, I found myself staring past the reinforced plate glass office window onto the fastidiously gardened, rolling landscape where the company had acquired space in the Palo Alto hills. Outside was an amazing blue sky through which bright sunlight beamed on that unusually warm December morning.

I daydreamed.

Who would be the first to earn full scale Master-slave, pleasure-pain blessings from me... twenty-four-seven... Allison or Adele? My mind swam with highly sexual, energetic power exchange scenes involving both women. If that ever occurred--a full time relationship with either of them--I would need to report it to my department director Mike. And Mike would likely go to the vice president.

Huh... complications could arise.

The daydream shifted. Who would be the first to make a mistake... Blowing to smithereens the arrangements I had carefully worked out with the willing, malleable Allison? That suddenly worried me the most.

Encouraging Adele could put Allison at risk. If people knew I was using Allison during the day - 'using her' being a power exchange phrase for consensual BDSM - there would be more than tittering and finger pointing. There would be outrage and censure. It didn't matter how much Allison wanted it or how carefully we kept such things to ourselves. I was the boss and I should know better, according to most. Any kind of top-down power-over someone, in exchange for sexual or other type favors, was frowned upon in the 1990s. Today, of course, it's written into corporate rules.

But...

I also knew that a subtle in-office thing can make the workplace something to look forward to rather than dread. It can make meeting time interesting, for example, or work time exhilarating, lending a sexual edge - read 'motivating energy'--to the challenge of completing difficult tasks. I remembered what it felt like to just hold hands under a conference room table. It lends a sharpness to what might be just another ho hum gathering. Place a hand on a woman's knee? Knowing no one else can see?...Heart pounding. Her allowing you...or inviting you... to slide that hand further up, pulling the hem of a dress with it, till she says stop (usually) ...with a certain look or a soft resisting hand?

Exquisite excitement.

Her cheeks might be flushed, eyes jumping between the conference room speaker and you, the other hand half-covering a delighted devilish smile.

So much fun...

Sensual office chemistry. It was always an incentive to get more done. Unless or until one thing led to another and serious relationships began, bringing with them complex emotional ups and downs, revolving door polyamorous boyfriend-girlfriend-boyfriend stuff; tension, anxiety, confrontation, accusation, breakups...

Bad for morale.

The secret was to communicate what-ifs, I had learned. Via brief hand written notes, texts or even emails. (...Long before the time when emails had become company property.)

What-if you take off your bra before the workday ends? What-if next time you let me slide my hand all the way up? What-if you cum for me during the next lights-out video training session?

She might reply...and often did in my experience... I don't know. Maybe I will. If I do... what-if?

Work out the details first. Tease out as many uncertainties as you can so there are no surprises, only flushed cheeks, pounding pulses and half-covered smiles. And occasionally... occasionally... the chance to share body fluids soon thereafter.

Good for morale. So long as people behave in mature, civilized ways.

I'm an optimist, can you tell?

Yes, Allison had come properly dressed to my office that Thursday morning. She wore tight woolen leggings under an open weave mohair sweater that draped to mid-thigh. Annd...the leggings were crotchless.

Oh hush... Yes, she had told me beforehand. In text and photos before driving to work--part of our contract. I hadn't objected. She later confirmed the fact for me, on command, sitting in my office. She had spread her legs and, also on command, cum for me while I watched. Till juice ran onto the chair and she had difficulty keeping quiet.

All while my office door was propped wide open.

The department floor was mostly empty that day, but not entirely. Our team members were hard at work in a nearby room. With the door open and a clear view to the meeting table where Allison sat, there was a small risk to her open legged, naked sex cumming.

Of course, making the orgasm much more powerful for her. The risk... Her daring... My insistence...

Beneath the sweater she wore a low slung sports bra type thing that showed mounds of cleavage. The sweater's loosely woven wool allowed viewers to study all the details. Looking at her one would swear those breasts will spring free at any moment. Even so, sitting in my office I told her to lift up the top. It was more a training technique--demanding public exposure--than a necessary subbie task. But she didn't hesitate. Before cumming for me at least twice as I have described.

Though most of the time my door would be closed, this was to be our morning ritual when we were in the office together. The contract between us called for such a ritual, and for more of her cumming at the noon hour, then again before leaving the office--sending proof of each accomplishment via cellphone snaps.

Plus... I engineered a multitude of unannounced orgasms for her in between the planned ones, drawing on lifestyle tools and toys I kept in a special box underneath my triple desk drawers, as well as specialized techniques I had learned over the years.

All of these marvelous activities between us were consensual. Compulsive. Intoxicating.

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My cell phone dinged again. Adele had sent another what-if... this time an arresting view of her entire upper torso, topless as before... wearing a collar!

I was mesmerized. What was she hinting at? I decided to schedule some private time to learn the meaning of all the what-ifs dropped so far.

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At that my daydream ended. I grabbed a clipboard for note taking then made my way to the conference room down the hall. Half empty boxes were scattered from one side to the next, with stacks of papers on a series of tables arranged in a U-shaped configuration around the long room. Team members Adam, Bob and Craig had been sorting through old files, tossing outdated material and rearranging 'keeper' files that would be useful in the future. The three were busy talking among themselves.

Allison was across the room sitting casually on top of a table. A dark shadow loomed between her knees, drawing my eye. But though the knees were slightly parted, the grey leggings were wrapped up beneath the earthy mohair sweater she wore. She had been recording papers-kept versus papers-tossed, studying her notes as I walked in, chewing on the end of a blue BIC pen cover.

Immediately behind me, Adele swept into the room with her usual flair.

'G'morning everyone, sorry I'm late. Hijinks with the ex today at home.'

It took a couple of minutes for her brazen entrance to take effect. But heads gradually turned her way... and didn't turn back. She was the center of attention. Or rather, the barely covered nipples staring back at everyone had locked in peoples' gaze.

'Nice look Adele,' Adam said tartly.

'Whoa,' Craig added.

'Quick out-the-door today?' Bob quipped. 'Fleeing the ex?'

Allison didn't say a word but looked at me as if I should explain the provocation. Adele? Dressed like this?

'Now you guys,' Adele challenged, hands on her hips. 'Haven't you ever seen a woman's tits before?'

Here was my opportunity to put things at rest.

'Breasts,' I loudly said.

All five heads turned in my direction as I took a chair at the head of the room.

'Not tits,' I corrected them. 'Breasts. Tits is demeaning slang. If we're going to talk about women's bodies, we're going to be polite about it. We're going to have the proper esprit.'

Everyone chuckled. Adam walked towards Adele with a grin, lifting his arms. 'In that case may I have this dance?'

'Of course sir,' she beamed back. The two of them swiveled to silent waltz music.

'One two three, one two three,' padded Bob with his palms.

More laughter.

'Alright, someone turn down the music,' I said. 'Where are we with our project? Who can give me an update?' I felt we had put Adele's self-exposure to bed....So to speak.

People slid into nearby chairs while Craig, the youngest member of the team, explained what had been achieved over the past few hours. Allison and Adele sat on opposite sides of the room with the others scattered in between. They weren't glaring at each other, the two women... but I could tell something was up. While Craig droned on I jotted a note on my clipboard pad.

Get with the two girls. Figure things out.

It was Adam's turn to talk. He described how remaining hardcopy documents could be scanned and stored using a new key word searchable data management program Bob had been working on. Everything would depend on the selection of search terms and creation of topical hierarchies. Heads turned towards Adele at that point. 'You've got the ball', Adam said sitting down.

Adele confidently approached the white board and sketched out a relationship chart. She numbered nodes and lettered connectors. She occasionally turned to face the team, talking on, while the eyes of her audience were focused on her chest, calculating size, shape and configuration of areolas and nipples visible beneath the tee. I could sense fantasies floating like invisible clouds in the conference room air. Yet Bob--the oldest member of our team--exercising great will power, managed to break away and open his laptop, using PowerPoint to copy the diagram. The other two guys pulled at imaginary beards waiting for opportunities to agree or disagree with each new idea. That meant that Adele would be facing them, or even approaching, which of course meant the tempting braless breasts were approaching too.

Adele's nipples tightened as she worked the room, nearly dancing in front of the white board. She was obviously comfortable... and maybe excited... to be ogled by the rest of us.

My mind wandered to an earlier conversation with her... Was she like this when being used by her ex? I pondered. While all those people watched and took photos? Maybe those scenes were more consensual than she let on.

Part of me hoped that was true.

I looked over to find Allison watching Adele too...

...While twiddling her exposed clit with a busy middle finger!

The open crotch leggings, hidden from view to everyone except me and possibly Adele, were working their magic. Allison had leaned back in her chair, legs apart, eyes halfway closed, a hand furiously working her accessible sex hidden in shadows below the table. It looked as though she would be over the edge in seconds. I watched with fascination, waiting to see how she would handle her first conference room cum. I watched her neck and face turn colors. I wondered if I would soon pick up her scent. My gaze darted between her and the front of the room wondering if Adele would see it happen too.

And there it was, a sort of initiatory office-slave orgasm, released just as Adele and Adam began to argue about artificial intelligence algorithms added to Bob's new data management tool...

Allison drew her knees together tight as they would go, the busy hand buried in the uppermost crease of her crotch. I watched her breathing change from low and slow, to long and hard. She lurched slightly in her chair and her forearms began to shudder as pleasure waves ran from womb to forehead, cunt to toes, then back again.

Without her making a noticeable sound.

When the energy finally subsided, she lifted her chin, staring back at me with watery eyes and a sly smile.

Thank you Sir, she mouthed, licking at dry lips.

I hadn't ordered it but I certainly celebrated the volunteered gift. The room would be filled with subliminal pheromones as well as the slowly radiating vitality of Allison's boundless sexuality.

Subliminal it would be; all the others had been pulled into the AI conversation. Craig had opinions, as did Bob. Adam and Adele still disagreed. Allison's little adventure had escaped their notice but the subconscious after effects would seep into all. My contract slave girl was showing unexpected bravado... as well as skill.

At that point I knew my team would never be the same.

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A few minutes more and people tired of quarreling. They gave themselves follow up tasks and delivery dates. I nodded and mostly agreed throughout the process. My people were good at what they did; I was happy to give them reign as well as occasional small rewards for their dedicated work.

'Time for a lunch break,' I announced. 'How about sandwiches from Driftwood Deli? On the company.'

Everyone clapped. 'Can that include cold beer?' Bob wisecracked.

'Why not,' I replied. 'As long as we clean up after ourselves.'

The room stirred with yays and woo-hoos.

'Allison will take your orders and call them in. Who wants to be the runner?' Everybody volunteered, leaving me to choose. 'Okay... Adele and Adam,' I decided. 'You two work out any remaining differences while you're away. We'll pick up the conversation after the break.'

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The team scattered. I was in my office finishing a mockup of the San Diego meeting brochure using one of Adele's topless photos as the final thumbnail. I was going to send it for her 'approval,' poking fun at the series of photos she had sent.

Allison appeared at my door. 'Sir, do you have a minute?' she asked, holding her clipboard to her chest.

'Certainly. Come in. And close the door behind you.'

I gave the mock-up one last glance and hit the email send key.

Allison stood in front of my desk.

'I'm expecting a certain text from you during the noon hour,' I reminded her.

'That's what I wanted to ask you about,' she said. 'Since this is my first time and all... can I send it any time between noon and one?'

'Let's say one thirty at the latest. Some days you will be out with people, other days you'll have work to do through the noon hour. But I want to hear from you each day from wherever you are. Before one thirty.'

'Perfect, thank you Sir.'

She made no move towards the door. 'Anything else I should know on my first day?'

I paused what I was doing.

'Yes there is,' I replied. 'I was going to wait till after lunch but with the door closed now is a good time.' I walked around my desk and locked it before turning to face Allison.

'Take off your sweater,' I told her, holding my hands behind my back.

She paused briefly, looking at me... Pursed her lips... Set the clipboard on the round meeting table behind her. She turned back towards me and pulled the sweater up and over her head from below. She shook out her long thick hair and laid the sweater on the table.

I tugged at the front of the spandex sports bra. The glaring cleavage jiggled. 'What's wrong with this picture?' I asked her.

She looked confused. 'I... I don't know Sir. I thought this was appropriate when I sent pictures earlier. The color matches the sweater from underneath. And...' She ran her hands across the tops of her breasts... 'There's plenty to look at the way I'm wearing it.'

'What does our agreement say about the bras you wear?' I asked, tugging again.

She thought about my question... 'They have to show nipples,' she sighed in a subdued voice.

'Show what?' I continued.

'They have to show... my nipples...' she repeated, looking sheepish. Her cheeks ran pink to red. 'Oh, Sir...'

'I want to be able to see them,' I insisted. 'I want your dresses, your sweaters, shirts or tees...whatever... to show the bra underneath when you are at work. And I want the bra to show either the shape or the color of your nipples. Your breasts and nipples are to be on display in some way every time we are together....Even if not as boldly as Adele is doing now.'