The Ideal Personal Assistant

Some of Marcia's antics with Graham were quite hilarious to see. She would jiggle her cleavage in his face, sometimes brush it maddeningly against the tip of his nose. She would rest her foot on his lap, place it squarely in his crotch, locate his trapped erection and press down on it, then start wriggling her toes around, making poor Graham moan out loud, which would have everybody falling about laughing and at the same time, as Marcia was deliciously aware, would be giving all of them enormous hard-ons too.

"I think our Mr Tenter is getting WAY too excited," she would chuckle, with Graham flopping around in his chair, grunting and groaning, appearing in grave danger of coming in his pants as Marcia's foot did its wicked work between his legs.

Marcia was occasionally tempted to carry on until he did just that - it would be extremely funny - but she never did. It was meaner and therefore more fun, she thought, to leave him on the edge but not quite there. She enjoyed speculating to herself how long it had been since Graham had had a shag. Must be years, she supposed. Christ, he must be SO frustrated! And here she was teasing the poor man like this! Such a WICKED girl, she was!

"What a shame I have to stop and get back to work now," she would announce, to a chorus of disappointment in the room.

Marcia would laugh, slide down off Graham's desk, and as a parting shot would stroke him softly on the cheek, give his nose a sharp little tweak, tickle him under his chin, and tell him sweetly that he could dream about her later if he wanted.

"You guys can too," she would add, with a pout and a teasing smile, before cat-walking sexily back to her station.

**

Poor Graham Tenter, his life at the office was now one of unrelenting misery. With colleagues sneering and laughing at him all the time, it was impossible for him to do his job as their supervisor and after a while he stopped even trying. Each day he sat there at his desk and stewed, suffering in a wretched silence, the butt of all jokes, focused only on getting through the hours until he could go home. He would have resigned if he could, however he needed the income and getting another job would be next to impossible in the bearish climate prevailing, therefore he was trapped in this hell, hating every minute of it and yet at the same time, given that his output at work was now virtually zero, terrified of getting the sack.

Marcia knew that she was primarily responsible for turning Graham into this pitiful figure and she felt not a shred of guilt about it. On the contrary, it amused her no end and caused her to torment him all the more. Graham's defencelessness, his inability to stand up for himself, brought out the sadist in Marcia and her behaviour towards him became increasingly capricious and was sometimes exceedingly cruel.

She took delight in completely humiliating him in front of the other team members.

When she came over to play, Marcia would instruct Graham to kneel before her and she would make him beg to be teased. She liked to keep him grovelling there for some time, everybody looking on and jeering, before acceding to his request.

"OK, very good. How can I refuse?" she would giggle.

She would then point to his chair.

"Assume the position."

Afterwards Marcia would make Graham kiss her foot and worship her, say how much he adored her, how he thought that she was the most gorgeous sexy creature in the whole wide world, that he knew he was not worthy to kiss the foot of such a beautiful girl and therefore how grateful he was to Marcia for being allowed to do so. To 'Miss Lopez', rather, since this was how Marcia had decreed, to much hilarity, that Graham must always now address her.

Any last vestige of dignity that Graham had left was stripped away when Marcia took to making him run errands for her and performing other demeaning little tasks.

She would summon him imperiously from his seat, "Oh Graham," she would drawl, or "Graham, come here,", crook her finger at him, like he was a dog, and he would have to get up and trot over to her desk, the rest of the team giggling at this ridiculous spectacle, and then it would be off to get Marcia a coffee, a snack, wipe her keyboard and screen clean, oh and her shoes too while he was at it, yes Graham, her shoes, no need for her to take them off, he could just kneel down and do it while she was wearing them, get under her desk and do it while she carried on working, and then could he pop out and get her some tights?, because, look Graham, these ones have a little hole in, yeah, all the way up there, could Graham see that?, oh yes and seeing as he was going to the shops, could he be a total sweetheart and also pick her up some lipstick?, a bright crimson one, she was fresh out and she was meeting her boyfriend after work and she wanted to look especially nice for him.

Graham obeyed her every command. It was pathetic, he knew that, allowing Marcia to treat him this way, and he despised himself for putting up with it, but he lacked the wherewithal to resist her. What made it all the more galling was that, despite her cruelty, it was impossible for Graham to avoid becoming sexually excited in the presence of such an enticing looking female. Even as Marcia was merrily abusing him he would have a rigid boner in his pants. And of course she knew that he did, and he knew that she knew, and she knew that he knew that she knew. Her dominion over him was absolute.

She decided to give him a new name - Pooch.

"Because that is what you are, aren't you?" she giggled, early one afternoon, as Graham was stirring sugar into her coffee. "You are my little pooch."

"Um, OK, Miss Lopez," mumbled the wretched Graham Tenter.

"What do you think, guys, we call him Pooch from now on?" she called out.

Unanimous agreement amid much laughter.

"Yeah, Marcia, suits him."

"Ha ha ha. Love it. Marcia's little pooch!"

Marcia stared long and hard at Graham, relishing the look of abject mortification on his face, thrilled by the untrammelled power she had over this hapless middle-aged man.

Then she told him to go back to his desk. "You are dismissed," she said.

"No, Pooch, not like that," she snapped, as he walked away. "Hands and knees. I want you to crawl back there. Make like a doggie going woof woof woof. Oh and another thing. On your way I would like you to stop by each of the guys and ask very nicely if they need you to do anything for them."

The others cheered long and loud at that and they duly made hay. With Marcia looking on and giggling uncontrollably they made Graham scamper around the floor of the office, going from one to the other, licking their shoes, calling them "Boss" and "Master", and generally abasing himself before them. They kept him at it for ages. At one point one of the guys stood up and kicked Graham hard up the rear. "Ouch!" exclaimed Marcia, gleefully, which triggered a couple of the others to do the same thing.

Graham was saved from further punishment by Richard Drake emerging from his office to see what the commotion was. Everyone went quiet, as befits a bunch of fairly junior employees in the presence of the CFO.

Richard's mouth twitched as he took in the scene - Graham Tenter, admin supervisor, for some reason on his hands and knees in the middle of the floor, and wimpering.

"What the fuck, Tenter!" he boomed.

Graham scrambled to his feet. Stressed was not the word. He was quaking.

"S-S-Sorry Mr Drake," he managed to utter in a tiny voice.

"My office," snarled Richard. "NOW."

He pointed in the direction of his room, making clear that Graham should go in there and wait. Graham duly did so. He looked utterly terrified as he made the trip.

Richard remained where he was, staring pointedly at the rest of the admin team. He said nothing for some time, allowing a certain trepidation to build.

"I'm not sure I want to know," he said, shaking his head, at last putting them out of their misery.

He turned to his PA, eyebrows raised. "Marcia?"

"Yes, Richard?"

"Care to tell me what was going on?"

Marcia adopted a pained expression. "Yeah, sure. It was Graham fucking around again. Can't believe he's meant to be the supervisor. Getting to be a real problem, Richard, to be honest."

There was an audible tittering in the room.

"Oh really?" said Richard, ignoring it, continuing to speak to Marcia.

"Yeah. He seems to think that working is purely optional."

"Does he now? Well we'll see about that, won't we?"

Did Richard Drake wink at Marcia Lopez as he said this? Possibly. It was hard to be sure.

"Is he in trouble then?" Marcia enquired.

Richard looked at her gravely. "Damn right he is. This sounds like a disciplinary matter to me."

"Oh dear," said Marcia.

"What, you don't think he deserves to be disciplined?"

"I do, Richard, yes. Graham definitely ought to be disciplined."

"OK, good. So how?"

"How what?"

"C'mon, Marcia, wake up. How exactly should we discipline Tenter? What should the stupid little tosser's punishment comprise of? You're the best person to judge. What's it to be? Needs to be something that can be dished out right now in my office."

"And I can decide?"

"Sure, honey. Just say. Anything goes."

"Anything?"

"Yep. Use your imagination."

Marcia went silent, finger on chin, pondering the matter.

"I'm not sure I should say in front of the other guys," she said, eventually.

"OK, fine. No, maybe that wouldn't be right. But you have dreamed up something now, sweetheart, have you?"

Marcia nodded.

"Right," said the CFO. "Suitably fiendish, I trust?"

"Oh I believe so, Richard, yes."

"Great."

"Might take a while, though, what I have in mind for him."

"Even better. No rush, sugar, is there? We have the rest of the afternoon. Longer if necessary. I don't mind staying late today."

"OK!"

"OK. So let's you and I go and teach this lazy bastard a lesson he won't forget. Be easier if you take the lead on it, I think. You cool with that, gorgeous?"

"Of course. Love to."

"You're the best, Marcia."

"No problem. I'm really looking forward to it."

Marcia's expression left no doubt as to the veracity of this statement.

Richard flashed her an evil grin - then he marched off, closely followed by his PA.

The five remaining staff members, who had been snickering quietly throughout the conversation, treated themselves to a good letch at Marcia - clad today in denim miniskirt plus one of her most revealing tops - as she strolled towards the CFO's office.

Marcia acknowledged their febrile attentions with a flutter of her fingers but did not deign to glance around. There was no need. She knew they would be perving.

What the men could not see was Marcia's face as she entered Richard Drake's office and her level gaze fell on the pale and quivering Graham Tenter.

If they had they would have detected in her big beautiful eyes a gleam of the purest refined wickedness - and that on her succulent lips had formed a broad and dazzling smile which could only, in all fairness, and given the circumstances, be described as diabolical.

END.