To Dominate A Secretary

Bella shifted nervously in the back of the elevator as it climbed ever higher, stopping every few floors to let well-dressed businesspeople off. She checked her reflection in the paneled mirrors, adjusting the hem of her pencil skirt, smoothing back her long blonde ponytail, checking her makeup, and generally worrying about her appearance. She needed this job. The interview had to go perfectly. She couldn't afford another failure.

Though she was only in her second year of college, she had switched her major a half a dozen times. Nursing was too gross, pre-veterinary classes were too hard, English was too much work, and she had tried education only to learn she couldn't stand children in large groups. On top of that, she had never been very good at school. She had begun to form a sneaking suspicion that her high school teachers had let her sneak by with B's and C's only because she was sweet and pretty. She had been put on academic probation, and her parents refused to pay for another semester until she figured out what she wanted to do. She had moved out of the dorms into a house with five other girls, and desperately searched for something to pay her share of the rent that she could apply for with her meagre qualifications. She filled out nearly fifty applications, only hearing back from five, all of them turning her down. It was with fading hope and a drained bank account that she clicked submit on the application for a personal secretary at the BlueStar marketing firm, accepted the call for an interview with a wavering voice, and now rode the elevator to the sixty eighth floor of the downtown skyscraper in her best interview clothes.

Soon, it was just her and an elderly gentleman left on the elevator. When the bell dinged at floor sixty eight, she started forward, her legs quaking. She fell forward a bit, her breasts pushing into the man's arm. She caught herself, flushing red, apologizing profusely. The man just smiled, and gave her a once-over with his eyes.

"Good luck, dear," he said, watching her hurry out of the elevator. She was still blushing.

Trying to compose herself, Bella straightened her spine and walked into the lobby. It was very clean and modern, the company logo staring at her from the reception desk. She walked past an overweight, middle-aged woman complaining loudly into her phone.

"Why would they call me for an interview if the position had already been filled!?" the woman said, and Bella's heart sank. "I know! That's what that little tart at the counter told me!" As she said this, the woman's eyes swiveled over to meet Bella's. She looked away quickly, moving towards the reception desk, hoping against hope that the woman hadn't been applying for the same position as she was. She just couldn't have been. Bella couldn't bear to move back home, a failure.

She reached the front desk, and a pretty black girl with long braids smiled up at her. "What can I do for you?"

"Um..." Bella swallowed, trying to regain her shaky confidence. "I'm here for an interview, for the personal secretary position. If it's still available."

"Name?"

"Bella Williams."

The girl clicked some things on her computer screen. She had beautifully done nails and impeccable makeup, but that's not what Bella's eyes were drawn to. The receptionist wore designer clothes, but they all seemed a little too small for her. Her skirt on her lap rode up to reveal the hint of the top of a lace stocking, and the edge of a lacy bra peaked out between the gap in the buttons on her shirt, almost inviting in the gaze of strangers. Bella realized she was staring at the curve of the receptionist's breasts, and glanced away, embarrassed.

"Miss Williams. Here we are," the girl smiled at her. "Have a seat, please. Mr. Taylor will see you shortly for the interview."

Bella felt her shoulders relax in relief. "Thank goodness," she breathed. "I passed a woman by the elevator who made me think the job had been filled."

"It had for her," the receptionist said, nodding. Bella furrowed her eyebrows. The receptionist scooted forward, conspiratorially. "We can't specify ages in the ad, because that's discrimination. But the company has a certain image in mind, and Mr. Taylor needs a young, fresh face to meet his clients to maintain that image. You're pretty. He'll like you."

Bella flushed pink.

"Plus," the receptionist continued, "If you're hired, I'll be working directly with you. I think we'll have more to talk about than I would with a woman her age, don't you think? I'm Leticia, by the way." She smiled, revealing rows of perfect teeth. Bella began to feel self-conscious about her own smile, suddenly wishing she had brought a toothbrush. The confidence-boosting frappuccino she had on the train may have left coffee stains on her teeth.

Before Bella could respond, an intercom buzzed at the receptionist's side.

"Leticia?" the speaker said, a commanding male voice. "If that interview is here, you can bring her back."

"Right away, Mr. Taylor," Leticia said. She rose gracefully. "Follow me, hun."

Bella followed the receptionist down the back hallway, mesmerized by the sway of her hips. She wore tall heels that clicked on the tile floors. There was a zipper pulling together the fabric of her short skirt, running all the way up the ample curve of her ass to the tapering small of her back. Bella again tried not to stare, feeling a little frumpy her in own outfit. Leticia stopped before an open door, and knocked.

"Good luck, hun," she said with a smile, opening the door. "I hope you get the job." Bella steeled herself, and walked through.

The office was large and elegant. A plush sofa sat against one wall, opposite a wide window overlooking the bay below. There were lush potted plants in the corners, shelves of books and shiny awards, and a broad, antique desk in the center of the room. Seated behind it was a rather handsome man in his late thirties in an expensive-looking suit and an equally expensive haircut. He didn't stand up when Bella entered, only nodded to her.

"Bella Williams?" he asked. It was the same commanding tone from the intercom. His blue eyes seemed to look right through her.

"Ye-- Yes, sir." Bella inwardly cursed herself for how awkward her voice sounded. "I'm here for the interview?"

"Looks like it," Taylor said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing one ankle over the other knee. "Have a seat." He waved his hand at the two chairs on the other side of the desk. Bella sat on the edge of one gingerly, while Taylor reached for a stapled packet of papers. He started leafing through it.

"I was just reading over your application," he mused. Bella could feel her legs shaking, and clasped a hand over each knee to try to steady them. The application questions had been... different. There had been some personality questions, multiple choice options that asked how she dealt with confrontation, authority, how she reacted when making mistakes, if she confessed secrets or kept them to herself. She had had to write answers about her definitions of success, the importance of following directions, and what attention to detail meant to her. She had needed to explain her commitment to her work and how she balanced a professional and personal life. None of the other applications she had completed had been so thorough, but at this point, she was desperate.

"I hope my answers are good," Bella said nervously, then berated herself inwardly for sounding stupid. "I had one of my roommates check everything over for typos. But she didn't find many." Bella added this last part quickly, trying to make herself seem capable.

"How many roommates do you have?" Taylor asked. Bella couldn't tell if the answer mattered for the interview, or if he were just making conversation. With his eyes on her, she almost forgot how to speak. She coughed.

"There's six of us," she said. "They're all going to the University, but I... I'm taking a semester off. To get some work experience."

"All girls?"

Bella nodded.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Bella tried not to let the surprise show on her face. She stumbled over an answer, trying to figure out how that was relevant.

"Sometimes I will need your assistance outside of the standard work day," Taylor explained. "When there's deadlines and last-minute things. You will always be compensated with overtime pay or have that time roll over into additional paid time off. It's easier if you don't have other commitments that may interfere."

"Oh," Bella said, laughing a little. "I see. No, I don't have a boyfriend."

Taylor nodded, and continued paging through her application. "I did like your answers to a lot of these questions. You seem like a good fit."

Bella smiled, only at the last minute remembering the potential for coffee teeth.

"One question that's not on here, however," he said. He looked up at her with those penetrating eyes. "And please be honest. How badly do you need this job?"

Bella's words caught in her throat. This wasn't in any of the practice interview questions she had read about online. "I... I really need it, sir," she finally said. "All the other places I've applied have turned me down. If I can't find a decent job to pay rent and save for another semester of classes, I'm going to have to move back home, and my parents are already losing hope in me. I promise, I'll do my very best, and I'm really good at learning new things. Well, new things that aren't too tricky. But I'm good at phone calls, and schedules, and taking notes, and everything it said on the website I would have to do for this job. I just need someone to give me a chance. I promise, sir, I won't let you down. I'll do whatever I can to be a good secretary for you."

Bella worried this was too over the top, but Mr. Taylor's mouth curled into a smile. "I like that commitment," he said. "Can I take that as a promise?"

"Yes, sir," Bella said, trying to contain her emotion.

"Good." He tossed the application packet back on his desk. "See Leticia about the paperwork. I'll see you at eight tomorrow morning."

"I... what?" Bella stared, stunned.

"You're hired."

"Just like that?" she breathed.

"Sure. I like your smile." Bella felt her heart pound in her chest. "Though I do need to call back a client in London before he heads home for the day, so go see Leticia about the rest." He leaned forward, reaching for his phone.

"Yes, of course, sir. Thank you!" Bella shot to her feet, feeling dizzy and happy. She almost fell forward, but caught herself with a hand on the back of the chair. She could have bounced out of the office.

"One thing," Taylor said, pausing with the phone in his hand. Bella turned. She felt his eyes over her body.

"There's a bit of a dress code," he said. "We have an image as a young, vibrant, modern company, and we need our administrative assistants to reflect the brand, since you'll be the first person a lot of clients see. So heels are mandatory." He looked down at her feet, at her modest, closed-toe kitten heels. "At least three inches. Skirts, not slacks, and the hem should fall above your knees. Longer than that is too old fashioned, and we do not want our clients to think we're out of touch with current trends."

Bella looked down at her skirt, the bottoms of her knees poking out just under the fabric. "Is... is this too long?"

Taylor smiled. "You know that old school uniform test, where the girls' skirts had to be below their fingertips when they held them at their sides?"

Bella nodded. She had gone to private school for eight years.

"The opposite of that. Your skirt needs to be shorter than your fingertips. Go buy some tonight, bring the receipts, and we'll reimburse you."

"...really?"

Taylor nodded. "Now if you'll excuse me, Miss Williams."

"Of course, sir!" Bella nodded deeply, and floated out of the office on a cloud of her own excitement.

--- --- ---

Bella showed up the next day, hoping her outfit was suitable. She had agonized over it the night before, pulling clothes out of her closet and modeling them for her roommates. She had remembered Leticia's style, and tried to find one of her own to match. She felt strange about taking up Mr. Taylor's offer to buy things on company credit, so she had made do with what she already had. She was wearing a skirt that she had only previously worn out to the bars-- a tight black one that hugged her hips and fell only halfway down her thigh. She had taller heels, too, ones that made her ass pop when she twirled in front of her bedroom mirror. She had to be careful getting on the train downtown from her campus apartment, watching not to let the stiletto heels trip her up as she walked down the platform. When she sat, she was careful to keep her thighs tightly together, as the skirt was short enough to give everyone a glimpse of her panties if she didn't. She was aware of the eyes on her as she rode the train, some looking at her jealousy, others hungrily. She usually didn't go out like this sober, or without a group of her friends dressed the same. She felt... exposed.

The train stopped about a block from the downtown skyscraper, and she tried to mimic Leticia's confident sway as she made her way down the sidewalk, up the elevator, and onto the sixty-eighth floor. Leticia beamed at her from behind the receptionist's counter.

"Excited for your first day?" Leticia asked, rising. "I'll be training you on the computer stuff and the phones for the morning."

"Do you think my outfit's okay?" Bella asked. Leticia twirled her fingers, indicating that she should spin around. Bella did so.

"Girl, you look sexy as hell. It's perfect." Leticia grinned. Bella flushed pink. "Come on, I'll show you your desk."

She followed Leticia to her station, which was to be just outside Mr. Taylor's office. The door to his office was closed, which made Bella feel unexpectedly disappointed. Part of her wanted him to look at her, dressed like she was, with those intense eyes of his. But she would have to wait. When Leticia pulled up the calendar on the computer, she could see his schedule-- he was out of the office meeting clients until after lunch.

Leticia sat next to her on the single office chair, their thighs and hips pressed together as she walked Bella through the necessary programs. She kept catching whiffs of the receptionist's intoxicating perfume as she moved. Leticia's shirt today was so white it was nearly see-through, the lace of her bra and the curves of her breasts perfectly visible, especially when she leaned over Bella to type in usernames and passwords. Bella wished she could be as spellbindingly beautiful.

Finally, Leticia modeled how to answer the phone, and how to buzz into Taylor's office. She went in to sit at the boss' desk so that Bella could practice, answering the call with an artificially deep imitation of a man's voice. They both laughed.

"I think you got it all, girl," Leticia said through the intercom. "Last thing. Come on in here. There's a box of files in here that you can work on. All forms have to get entered into that spreadsheet I showed you."

Soon, Leticia had returned to her post at the front of the office, and Bella was pulling files, folder by folder, out of a large box in Mr. Taylor's office. She had to enter all the hand-written information herself, to get it saved electronically. It was mind-numbingly boring, but she was pretty confident that she couldn't screw it up. She couldn't bear to mess up on her first day.

As she worked, a few junior members of the firm passed her station on the way to their offices. She tried her best to smile at them, noting that all of them looked her over as if appraising her. A few introduced themselves, but kept the conversations fairly short. Bella didn't mind. If she could get through the whole file box by the end of the day, there was no way that Mr. Taylor could doubt his quick decision to hire her.

She was in the boss' office, bent over the file box, exchanging one folder for another, when she heard a noise behind her of someone entering. She suddenly remembered the shortness of her skirt, and how anyone behind her had a clear view of her ass and panties. She jerked around in surprise to see Mr. Taylor standing in the entryway to his office. At the same time as she tried to stutter an embarrassed apology, her foot caught on the edge of the box, tripping her. She fell backwards, kicking the box as she fell, sending files scattering across the floor as she collapsed. Her hand flew out, catching another file box on a table, pulling it down on top of her, dumping paper across her body. Horrified, she sat amid the rain of scattered papers, not even realizing that she had fallen with her legs apart.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I'm so sorry!" Bella stammered. She swung to her knees, trying desperately to collect up all of the papers.

"Stop," Taylor commanded. "You're messing them up worse."

Bella felt hot tears in her eyes. She sat back on her heels, looking up at him. "I promise, this was a one-time accident. I'm not this much of a screw up." Though she didn't say it out loud, the undercurrent of her voice pleaded, please don't fire me, please don't fire me.

Taylor shut his office door, crossing the room to set his briefcase and suit jacket on one of the chairs. "Why are you in here in the first place?"

Bella thought she heard anger in his voice. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Leticia..." she said, then stopped to take a deep breath. She looked up at him from her knees, eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Leticia told me to enter the things in this box for you. And then I guess you startled me, and... and I'm so sorry, sir, I really am."

"Stand up." His voice was calm. Maybe he wasn't angry. Bella did as she was told, rising shakily to balance on her heels. She smoothed her skirt, but couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.

"You look nice. On brand."

Bella chanced a glance upward, feeling her cheeks redden. He was studying her legs. Standing next to him like this, she realized how large he was, and how small she felt next to him. He was nearly a foot taller than her five foot four stature, and he had fairly broad shoulders. His thick forearms showing beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves hinted at muscle hidden beneath the tailored suits.

"Just a shame that you've messed up so quickly," he said. "This is a fast-paced business. We don't have time for stupid mistakes."

Bella's heart sank. "Please give me another chance. It won't happen again, I promise."

"No, it won't," Taylor said. "I believe strongly in learning from mistakes. So we'll just need to make sure you remember this, so it doesn't happen again."

Bella dropped her eyes. "I will."

"I need to make sure of that," Taylor said. "Turn around. Put your hands on the desk."

Bella's eyebrows furrowed. "...sir?"

"Or you can go home now, and start looking for another job."

"No! No, I'm sorry, sir!" Bella turned to his large, mostly clear desk, putting her hands on the edge of it. She glanced back over her shoulder at him. "Like this?"

He stepped towards her, placing a hand on her back between her shoulder blades, nudging her forward. She sank down lower, so her back was parallel with the surface of the desk, her elbows touching it, her ass sticking straight out. She felt the material pull up from the backs of her thighs, knowing full well her panties were on display. She shuffled on her stiletto heels uncomfortably, feeling her face redden even more.

"The best way to make something stick in your memory," Taylor said cooly, "is to give it a connection to some physical sensation. A small child won't listen when her father tells her not to touch a hot stove. When she touches it, how does she remember not to make the same mistake?"

There was a long moment before the embarrassed Bella realized he wanted an answer. "She... she burns herself?"