The New Boss and his Secretary

Rachel didn't like her new boss. Patrick may have charmed the CEO and the other partners, but he hadn't fooled her. He was so friendly in front of them, but to Rachel and the other secretaries, he was taciturn and cold.

Mr Goldsmith, her old boss, had retired six months ago. He always had a 'doors open' policy and was the sweetest guy in the building. He had made an effort to speak to everyone, including Lindy the cleaner and Andy the doorman. Rachel liked telling Mr Goldsmith the latest office gossip and he loved sharing pictures of his wife and grandchildren. She had understood why he'd decided to retire, but she just wished that the person replacing him hadn't been Patrick.

Patrick had called himself 'the new blood' and had announced to the entire office that he'd been hired 'to shake things up'. Patrick was a stickler for the rules, he had shouted at one of the other secretaries for being ten minutes late, then told Rachel off when she'd forgotten to format her report in his specific way. She supposed Mr Goldsmith had been a bit lax towards the end of his career, Patrick's tough love on the office had produced the best results the firm had seen in years, but all the fun had gone out of work.

Patrick had even removed casual Fridays and had insisted on corporate attire every day. Rachel had enjoyed wearing jeans and a t-shirt on Fridays and was annoyed at Patrick's arbitrary rules. While she didn't mind wearing work clothes that much, she hate that Patrick had tried to insist on a specific dress code for the women to wear only dresses and skirts. HR had blocked it but it hadn't stopped Patrick for saying in a loud voice in front of Rachel and that's what he thought the female employees should be wearing, rather than trousers.

Even though Patrick was a bit old school in some of his habits, he wasn't that old. Rachel wasn't sure how old he was, but she guessed he was only in his mid-thirties. He had shiny blonde hair which stood out compared to the sea of greys and browns of the other partners. He wore dark suits which were always spotless. Rachel wondered if he had a housekeeper because he was always so neat and unruffled. She'd noticed he didn't wear a wedding ring and had never mentioned a partner of any kind.

One Friday afternoon in June, Rachel was bored. Her friend and fellow secretary, Elise, was on her honeymoon and Rachel was missing having someone to talk to. A lot of other people were also on holiday or had decided to leave work early for the day. Even though many of the windows were open, the air was heavy and warm. Rachel wished she could just leave and go to the pub, but as Patrick's personal secretary, she felt like she shouldn't. He was still in his office, door closed as usual. There was a large window next to his office door, but the blinds were drawn so she couldn't see inside, but she could ear the sound of clacking keys.

Rachel looked back at the report she was supposed to be writing for Patrick -- he'd asked for it to be finished for that afternoon. Rachel should have finished it much earlier. But the heat had made her so sluggish that she'd barely done any work all day. She glanced at the clock -- 5:31pm. It wasn't uncommon for people in the office to work until 6 o'clock, or even later some days, but it was a Friday, and this report wasn't urgent. Patrick could get it on Monday. Rachel glanced at Patrick's office. She was going to do it -- she slid off her chair, clicked off her screen, picked up her handbag, and -

"Heading off, Rachel?"

Patrick was leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. How had he known? And how had he appeared so silently? Despite the heat, he still had his jacket on and looked as composed as he had at 9am, whereas Rachel felt rather crumpled in her creased blouse and wrinkled pencil skirt.

"Uh, yeah," Rachel said, and gave Patrick a small smile. "It's half five, so thought I'd head home."

Patrick did not return her smile. "I haven't received the report yet."

"I thought I could send it to you on Monday, it's not that urgent."

Patrick folded his arms. "I told you to send it to me by the end of today, not Monday. You've had all day to do this Rachel. This is unacceptable."

Rachel placed her handbag back on the floor. How stupid of her to think she could just clock off without finishing.

"I'm sorry, Sir. You're right, I'll finish it now."

She started to sit back down, but Patrick stepped forward.

"That's not good enough. We need to have a proper discussion about this. My office."

Patrick held out his arm, gesturing towards the open door. Rachel walked inside and sat down on one of the two chairs facing his desk. She didn't come inside his office very often; it was more sparsely furnished compared to when Mr Goldsmith had been in there. There were no pictures on the walls or little knick-knacks on the desk, which was bare apart from his laptop and a manila folder. It was like his job was his life. Patrick shut the door and then there was a soft click. He sat behind his desk and gave Rachel a serious look.

Rachel turned to the door behind her. The blinds were still drawn so she couldn't see the bullpen. She looked back at Patrick.

"Did you lock the door?"

"I don't want to be disturbed. Most people have gone home, but there are still a few people about. What I want to discuss is private."

Rachel's throat went dry. What could he possibly want to discuss that needed the door to be locked?

"When I arrived at this firm, I was assured you were the best secretary. However, I have found this has not been the case. Your work has been slow and full of careless errors, you spend too much time gossiping and your corporate attire has been most... distracting."

"What... What do you mean?" Rachel said. "I wear skirts and dresses that are appropriate for work. I follow the guidelines that you set."

Patrick stood up. He took off his jacket and carefully placed it on the back of his chair. Rachel couldn't help but notice how broad his shoulders were. She wasn't sure what else to say, so she watched him slowly walk around his desk and stop so he was about a foot or so away from Rachel's chair. He lent against the edge of the desk and folded his arms. His shirt was a shade of pale blue which matched his eyes.

"You do follow the guidelines," Patrick conceded, "and I was glad that I decided to get rid of casual Fridays. I hated seeing you in those shapeless t-shirts. You look so good in those blouses."

Rachel shifted in her chair. She knew she had nice boobs, round and perky, they were a decent size without being too big, but she hadn't realised Patrick had been looking.

"And your arse and legs, they need to be shown off, not hidden away in jeans. You look so hot in skirts. But your performance has been... very bad, Rachel."

"This is inappropriate," Rachel began, giving Patrick the coldest look she could muster, "you can't talk about me like this."

Patrick uncrossed his arms and edged closer, then leant over further so his breath tickled her ear, "oh but I can. Your work ethic has been terrible lately. You need to be reminded that I'm the boss and you need to do exactly as I say."

Rachel pushed into the back of the chair, trying to get away from Patrick, horrified at the curl of his lips. But voice was smooth and there was something about his hard stare.

"No," she said, forced herself stare back into Patrick's eyes.

Patrick stood up straight and smirked at her. "No?" he repeated. He looked down at her and undid his cuffs.

Rachel stood up too. Even in her heels, he was still a good few inches taller than her, but Rachael puffed up her chest anyway and stared at him. Patrick stared back, methodically rolling up his sleeves, not keeping his eyes off her. Rachel glanced down at his forearms and then cleared her throat.

"I said no. And I'm leaving right now."

She turned, but Patrick grabbed her wrist and pulled her back towards him.

"Wrong. You will do as I say, Rachel."

"Let go of me," Rachel said. She tugged, trying to pull away, but Patrick kept a tight grip on her wrist, his eyes locked on hers.

"Stop struggling," he ordered.

Rachel tugged even harder, which made Patrick groan. He gave a sharp yank, pulling Rachel towards him. She stumbled and Patrick twisted her arm so that she turned and fell forwards onto the desk. Her arse stuck into the air while her boobs sat on the wooden surface. She tried to get up, but Patrick pushed her back down, grabbing her other wrist. Rachel wriggled, attempting to get out of his grasp, but Patrick held her easily.

"Fighting will only make this harder, Rachel," he said, pressing her wrists into her back with one hand while stroking the curve of her arse with the other. "You will obey me, however you struggling under me is very sexy."

Rachel groaned and pushed, which only made Patrick snigger and hold her wrists tighter. There was soft rustle of fabric. Rachel craned her neck and saw Patrick reaching into one of his pockets, producing black cable ties.

"No! Get off me!" she yelled, struggling harder, twisting her shoulders, but Patrick pushed her against the desk again and tied her wrists together behind her back. She could barely move her hands against the tight plastic.

"Sssshh," Patrick said once Rachel was secure. His voice was soft. 'Some people are still working, we don't want to disturb them, do we?"

He kept one hand on top of her wrists, still pushing her into the desk, while the other explored. He ran his hand down her side, over ribcage and waist, then down her skirt. His touch was light, tender even, but Rachel gritted her teeth. This was her boss -- taking advantage of her! Patrick pulled her so that there was a little space between Rachel and the desk, then hoisted up her skirt so that Rachel's arse was on display.

Rachel burned. Today she'd worn stockings and lacey meshed pants; it didn't hide much.

"Lovely," Patrick said appreciatively.

"Don't touch me," she said.

Patrick slapped her. Hard. Rachel gasped as her body shivered.

"Stop yelling. If you aren't quiet, I will make you be quiet."

Rachel wriggled underneath him, trying to heave herself off the desk, but Patrick slammed her down, and then slapped her butt cheek again.

"You are a very bad girl," Patrick said. He took his hand away from Rachel's wrists and pulled her pants down. "Step out of these."

"No." Rachel said, which earned her another slap. She didn't want this. That's what she was telling herself, but there was a growing heat inside her that was saying something else, and she knew she was getting wet.

Patrick grabbed a fistful of Rachel's hair and pulled it. Rachel gulped.

"Step out of your pants." Patrick growled.

A tiny whimper escaped Rachel as she did as she was told. Then Patrick let go of her hair and unzipped her skirt, pulled it down, and told her to step out of that too. She hoped Patrick would kick her pants away and wouldn't realise how wet he was making her. Just the tight grip he'd had on her hair and his sudden forcefulness was sending her stomach into knots and making her nipples hard. Patrick picked up her pants. He sniffed the fabric and laughed.

"Oh, you need me to teach you a lesson! You want this."

"No, I don't," Rachel protested. But then Patrick yanked her backwards by the hair again, then stuffed her pants into her mouth. She could feel the dampness. He pressed his hand over her mouth while she screamed, but the sounds were muffled 'mmmphs'.

"You do want this Rachel." He said in a low voice, "I know you do." He turned Rachel round so that she was facing him, making sure to place one of his legs in between hers, then he held her chin in his fingers. "You're going to be my slut. I am going to fuck you hard and fill you up with my cum and you are going to enjoy it. Keep your pants in your mouth. I want you to taste yourself."

Rachel struggled against the cable ties binding her wrists, making Patrick laugh again.

"You look so hot when you do that," he said, watching her. His eyes travelled down her body. "Now it's time we see those tits. I've been really looking forward to this."

He leant over her and opened one of his desk drawers. He pulled out a pair of scissors, then placed them on the desk next to them. Then, in one fluid motion with both hands, Patrick ripped open her blouse, exposing her black bra. He grabbed her tits and squeezed them hard, making Rachel moan. He grabbed the scissors and cut her blouse, then snipped her bra, making cuts until they were both lying in pieces on the floor and Rachel's boobs were free. Patrick cupped them in his hands, then licked her nipples. Rachel found herself moaning again, almost leaning into him before she remembered herself and stopped.

"Mmmm these are amazing," Patrick moaned, giving her boobs another squeeze. He met her eyes. "Are you enjoying this, my little slut?"

Rachel shook her head, but Patrick slipped a finger inside her and rubbed gently.

"You are! You're so wet." He slipped another finger inside her, circling and rubbing her clit.

Rachel couldn't help herself, she writhed under his touch, moaning with pleasure, it felt so good.

"Good girl." Patrick said, rubbing faster.

Rachel began thrusting, her body wanting to meet his, the heat building. Patrick increased the rhythm. He knew exactly what he was doing. She closed her eyes, allowing her thrusts to get bigger, her moans louder, when suddenly Patrick removed his fingers. Rachel opened her eyes.

"Very good, Rachel," Patrick said, "you're starting to listen. But you can't cum just yet."

Patrick lifted up his hand and showed her the two fingers that had been inside her, then placed them into his mouth, running them slowly along his tongue like an ice lolly.

"You taste so good. Even better than I thought."

Rachel wanted to protest, be indignant, but all she could do was stare at her boss as he sucked her fluids. He removed his fingers from his mouth and grinned at her. He was still fully clothed while Rachel stood against his desk in only her stockings and heels. He stepped forward and pressed against her chest with his, their faces only centimetres apart.

"The fun is only getting started Rachel," he whispered. "Now that I've made you wet and shown you what I can do, you're going to do something for me." He placed one hand on his groin.

Rachel shook her head and tried to back away from him, but Patrick grabbed her hair and pushed her face closer to him.

"I told you already Rachel, you will do as I say. And why continue to fight when we both know you're enjoying this as much as me? You can open your mouth and we'll take out your pants. They should be soaking by now. If you scream or do anything stupid, then we do this the hard way. Understand?" He gripped her hair even tighter and gave it a hard yank for good measure, making it pull at her scalp and her eyes water.

Rachel nodded, then spat out her pants. They were glistening. Her mouth felt dry. She swallowed and looked at Patrick. He took a step backwards nodded at the space on the floor in front of him.

"Get on your knees."

Rachel stepped forward and knelt in front of him.

"Open. I can't wait to use that pretty mouth of yours."

Rachel opened wide. Patrick unzipped his trousers. His cock was erect and large, the largest Rachel had ever seen. It was long and wider than she was used to, and she worried it would be too big for her.

"Suck." Patrick commanded and put a hand on the back of Rachel's head.

Rachel had just pressed her lips around Patrick's cock when there was a sharp ring.

"For fucks sake!" Patrick cursed and pushed Rachel away. She lurched, unsteady with her hands behind her back, but managed to stay upright. Patrick pulled his mobile from his pocket. "Yes?... Yeah, I got it earlier... No, not yet. We were thinking Tuesday.... Tonight!.... Ok... Ok, I'll get it done now."

He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, scowling. He zipped his trousers back up.

"Fucking corporate," he muttered to himself. He looked back at Rachel, still kneeling in front him. His expression softened as his gaze slid over her boobs and then down to her crotch. "That was the boss. I need to do something for him. Really fucking bad timing, but what can we do?"

Rachel couldn't believe her luck. They were finished! Patrick placed his hands on her upper arms and helped her stand. Her legs were a little wobbly.

"Are you going to go?" She asked.

"Yep, duty calls, but you won't have to wait too long."

"Wait? What do you mean wait?"

"Well, I did say we were just getting started," Patrick said, rolling down his sleeves, "and you're not exactly dressed for the office, are you, my little slut?" He did up the buttons on his cuffs.

"You cut up my clothes!" Rachel hissed.

"And what fun that was," Patrick smiled. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down so that she fell back into the chair she'd been sitting in before. He produced more cable ties from his pockets. "You're going to be a good girl, Rachel, and wait for me here."

"What? No!" Rachel cried, "I have a boyfriend! He'll be wondering where I am!"

"Don't lie to me," Patrick said. "You don't have a boyfriend; nobody will miss you this evening." He grabbed her wrists and tied them to the back of the chair.

Rachel wondered how he knew she was lying. She tried to pull her wrists, but they were bound tight. Patrick knelt down in front of her, then spread her legs wide. Rachel grimaced, and pushed against him, but Patrick was strong. He slapped her thigh, and then tied her ankle to the front leg of the chair, then did the same with her other ankle, so her legs were spread far apart. Rachel had never felt so exposed.

"I heard you talking to Elise about it last week," Patrick explained in a rather bored voice. "You two spend far too much time talking, you know. But it was a very useful piece of knowledge for me."

He picked up her pants, then rummaged in his desk drawer again. He produced a roll of duct tape and ripped off a piece with his teeth.

"No, no, no, no, please," Rachel begged when she realised what Patrick was about to do. She twisted her neck and tried to bite him, but Patrick grabbed her throat and squeezed, making her gasp. When her mouth was open, he stuffed her pants in and then taped her mouth shut. Rachel tried to make any sort of sound, but like before, all that could be heard was muffled "mmmphs".

Patrick took a few steps back to admire his handiwork while he straightened his tie. Rachel wanted to punch him, but her gagged noises and twisting and pulling against the cable ties just made Patrick grin even wider.

"You're so sexy, Rachel," he said, "all bound and trussed up like that, just for me."

He stepped to the back of her chair then turned it round and pushed it to the side so that she was sat directly in front of his office door.

"I've got to go now, but I'll be thinking about you, waiting for me." He grabbed a key off the hook next to the doorframe and opened the door wide, revealing the bullpen.

Rachel screamed behind her gag, what if someone saw here like this? Practically naked and tied to a chair in the boss's office!

The stifled panic made Patrick laugh. "Don't worry, nobody's out there," he said, and stepped into the doorway, "but I'm going to lock you in, just in case. Nobody will see you like this, I promise. You're my little slut, only for me to enjoy. See you soon." He winked, flicked off the light, and closed the door. There was a click, then the soft pad of his footsteps on the carpet faded away.

Rachel was trapped in the darkness.