My first day at my new job was coming to an end when my boss called me into his luxurious office to have a word with me. I didn’t know what it was about, but I felt confident that I had gotten off to a good start with all my responsibilities.

“Hey, I just wanted a quick word with you,” he said, looking up at me with his handsome smile from his chair.

“Sure,” I said, sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

He slightly raised his right hand off the desk and said, “Carol, I know you are new here and you did a great job for your first day, but I need a couple of things from you.”

“Sure, Mr. Boyd,” I said, nervously fidgeting my hands on my lap where he couldn’t see them.

“First off, don’t ever sit down or stand up unless I tell you to,” he said, wiping his smile from his face.

“I apologize, Mr. Boyd,” I said, feeling my face redden with embarrassment.

“And second, don’t come in with such an outfit tomorrow,” he added.

“Ok, um, how should I come?” I asked nervously. “I mean, how should I dress, sir?”

“Dress like the secretary of Mr. Boyd,” he said, referring to himself in the third person.

Feeling objectified and somewhat ashamed, I said, “Ok, I understand.”

Bringing out his smile again, he said, “Good, you may now stand up and leave.”

I managed to hold back my tears but only until I got to my car in the parking lot. It was my dream job to work for Mr. Boyd, but I would have never expected for him to be one of those types of bosses. He seemed so different from the outside, but I knew I had to meet his every demand or else I would be looking from the outside again.

“It’s no big deal,” I thought, wiping my tears. “Just follow his orders and keep the fucking job.”

Before going home to my husband, I stopped at a high-end store to upgrade my wardrobe to something fitting of the executive secretary of Mr. Boyd. I purchased several pencil skirts, long-sleeve and short-sleeve tops, blazer jackets, and two pairs of thigh-high stockings.

When I got home, my hubby saw me enter with the shopping bags and asked, “Hey, did you go to work or just shopping?”

“Uh, both,” I answered, feeling upset by his stupid question. “Just had to get new clothes.”

“Alrighty then,” he said then returned his eyes to the Monday night football game. “Hope it wasn’t too expensive.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance as I thought, “It’s good to have my own money. My own fucking money.”

The following morning, I dressed in a white long-sleeve top and a black pencil skirt with lace top thigh-high stockings underneath. I felt sexy and that gave me a needed boost of confidence for my second day at the job.

“Trying to impress your little boss, huh?” my husband asked from our bed.

“I have to dress the part,” I said, looking at him while I put on my heels. “Some of us have jobs to keep.”

“Hey, I’ma get the rock band thing going pretty soon,” he said, pulling his shirt down to cover his gut.

“You’re not in your twenties anymore,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, getting out of bed.

I arrived at the office earlier than any other employee and was surprised to see Mr. Boyd already working in his office.

“Good morning, sir,” I said as I walked by his opened door.

“Morning, Carol,” he said, making no attempt to hide the fact he was checking me out from head to toe. “You look great.”

With a bright smile, I said, “Thank you, sir.”

“Here is your stack for the day,” he said, pointing to several folders on top of his desk.

As I walked towards his desk, he stood up and moved to the side to watch me pick up the folders.

“Carol, put them back down,” he ordered.

I did as he said and looked at him expectantly.

“Pick them up again,” he said, moving back to seemingly get a better view of my firm ass in the tight pencil skirt.

I picked up the folders again and returned my eyes to him.

“One second,” he said then walked towards the door to close it. “Put them down one more time.”

I placed the folders back on his desk and waited for further instruction from my boss.

“Both hands on the desk,” he said as he walked up to me. “Turn around and place your hands on the desk.”

Feeling his eyes on me, I turned around and placed my hands nervously on the edge of his desk.

“Great outfit but the panty lines ruin it,” he said before adding, “Take them off.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, not believing what I was hearing.

“Take them off, Carol,” he said, pausing after each word to add emphasis.

“Okay, sir,” I said.

“Take the folders, take off your panties in the restroom and get to work,” he instructed.

I took the folders and left his office with a million thoughts racing through my head. I knew there was no other option but to obey his every word if I wanted to be his successful secretary. Deep inside of me, I felt the excitement of such a boss and secretary relationship. It was my greatest fantasy to be a submissive woman but not a single soul knew about it.

I went into the restroom and checked my reflection in the mirror to see what Mr. Boyd was talking about. I shook my head at the sight of the panty lines and made a mental note to check every detail of my outfit before I came to work. I removed my panties and threw them in the trash before beginning my second day at the job.

During the morning, I was uneasy as I felt that everyone knew I wasn’t wearing panties. I didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention by bending over or by simply walking past them, so I just stayed at my desk until lunchtime.

It was then when I calmed down and told myself it was no big deal because nobody actually knew or could even tell that I wasn’t wearing any panties. I looked normal like the other female employees and it was only my boss who knew what had happened. That detail, the thought of having followed Mr. Boyd’s naughty orders, was the one that made my pussy react with arousal.

The rest of the day went without incident, but I made sure to stop at a lingerie store in the afternoon to purchase some seamless underwear that wouldn’t show through my tight skirts. Luckily, my husband wasn’t home when I arrived, and I was able to avoid explaining to him why I had gone shopping again.

On Wednesday, I dressed similarly to the previous day but this time it was a blue short-sleeve top, a white pencil skirt, and fishnet lace top thigh-high stockings. The best part about the outfit was the mesh bikini panty I was wearing that was completely invisible even under the thin and tight skirt.

When I arrived at work in the morning, Mr. Boyd again had me pick up the folders from his desk while he delighted his eyes with the sight of my backside.

“Much better, Carol,” he said, getting close to me from behind. “Show me what you’re wearing.”

“Sir, um, I don’t understand,” I said nervously.

“Sure you do,” he said, lightly tugging my skirt up. “Pull up your skirt.”

I slowly began pulling my skirt up but stopped when I realized I couldn’t take things that far.

Fighting my desires, I said, “No, I can’t.”

Immediately, he grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed my face down towards the desk to bend me over. He yanked my skirt up and took a second to admire my ass in the mesh panty before giving me a few hard spanks.

“Ohhmmgg!” I moaned in reaction to his hand making contact with me.

“Lovely, Carol,” he said before letting me go.

I quickly pulled my skirt down and turned to look at him with my reddened face.

“I don’t play around,” he said, gently moving my auburn hair out of my face. “My secretary is my number one priority.”

Feeling entirely under his control, I said, “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Do not disobey me,” he said with emphasis. “It’s already your second strike.”

I looked at him and simply nodded my head.

“Dinner at nine tonight,” he said, returning to his chair.

“Ok, I’ll make the reservations,” I said. “For Mrs. Benson, right?”

He smiled and replied, “You and I, Carol.”

“Oh, ok,” I said with a surprised look.

“It’s already reserved at Noriega’s,” he added.

I went about the day’s work, but my focus was disrupted at times by the thought of Mr. Boyd’s behavior. The fact he had pulled up my skirt to check my underwear and then spanked me made my pussy rage with lust. I would have pleasured myself in the restroom if it wasn’t for the thought of going with him to dinner not leaving my head. It was surprising and exciting that he had planned a dinner date with me seemingly out of nowhere.

That afternoon, I left work and made a shopping trip for the third day in a row. I had to impress my boss at work, but I perfectly understood that I had to go beyond that outside of work. I spent nearly an hour picking out a dress but, in the end, I was sure I had made the right choice. The sleeveless dress I picked featured a plunging neckline, strappy open back, and a bodycon mini skirt.

I quickly headed home to get ready for my dinner date, but I was met by my husband in the living room. He was wearing his rock band outfit and looked about ready to go on stage to perform.

“What’s going on?” I asked, placing the shopping bag on the couch.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked. “I texted you about my band’s performance tonight.”

“What?” I exclaimed, pulling out my phone to check my texts. “Oh, I must have missed it.”

Visibly upset, he said, “Yeah, no shit.”

“I, uh, can’t go,” I said.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked. “What the fuck is more important?”

“I, fuck, I have to go to dinner with my boss,” I said, shaking my head. “I wasn’t expecting this tonight.”

“Easy, cancel it,” he said before walking away.

Disappointed in the situation, I said, “I can’t, you know I can’t do that.”

A couple of minutes later, I was upstairs in our bathroom wearing only the mesh panty and finishing my makeup and hair when my husband walked in.

“Really?” he asked with one of those pissed off smiles of his.

“What?” I asked.

“You never fucking dress like this for me,” he angrily said.

“Don’t start this,” I said. “You know this job is important.”

“And on this night of all nights,” he added, shaking his head.

I got the dress out of the bag and removed the tag before putting it on. It was the most revealing dress I’d ever worn, and it accented my ass to perfection. I topped it off with my favorite strappy heels and went downstairs to face my husband.

“That’s some bullshit and you know it,” he said, looking at me.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Good luck tonight.”

“Are you fucking him?” he bluntly asked.

“Yeah, I totally am,” I said, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “I’ve been working there for three fucking days.”

“Ok, whatever,” he said then walked away.

Just as I was about to follow my husband, I heard a car honking outside our house. I hesitated for a second before going to look out the window to see who it was. To my surprise, Mr. Boyd had sent someone to pick me up and take me to our dinner date.

“Ah fuck, whatever,” I thought as I grabbed my purse. “I can’t please everybody.”

I arrived at Noriega’s on time and Mr. Boyd was already waiting for me in what looked to be the most expensive private table at the place.

“Wow,” he said, standing up to greet me.

“Wow for yourself,” I said, looking at him in his black suit.

We sat down and surprisingly to me, we only talked about work for a few minutes. He instead focused on me and my journey to my current position as his secretary. It wasn’t fake interest either, I truly felt that he cared about what I had to say. It was the type of attention that I long craved and that had disappeared from my marriage.

While he listened attentively to me, he confidently placed his hand on my thigh and sent a rush of sexual energy through my body.

After the expensive dinner, I was feeling a little too relaxed from the wine, and I didn’t object when he offered to take me home.

“Well, here we are,” he said when we arrived outside of my house.

“Thank you,” I said. “For the lovely dinner and everything.”

“I see your husband isn’t home,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s performing with his band tonight,” I said.

“Oh, what a shame, I thought he’d enjoy getting you out of that dress,” he boldly said.

My heart began pounding as soon as I heard those words, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to refuse his advances if he made any more of them.

He walked me to the door and added, “Heck, I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” I asked, fumbling the keys in my hands.

“Get you out of your sexy dress,” he said, lifting it up to reveal my panty-covered ass.

We entered the house and as soon as the door closed we began kissing and groping each other in the dark. Like two reunited lovers, we quickly went upstairs to my bedroom and started shedding each other’s clothes.

Before I could even think to do anything about it, I was on my back in my marital bed with just my soaked panties in the way of committing full out adultery.

He spread my legs and tenderly kissed his way down to my hotness. The soft kiss made me squirm and then he moved my panties aside to introduce his tongue to my wet lips.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to get lost in the pleasure. I had forgotten what it felt like to receive oral but more important was the feeling of being the center of a man’s attention.

His tongue continued working its magic all over my sopping pussy and then settled on its main target. He began assaulting my engorged clit with all the tricks in his arsenal and managed to take me to a new height of arousal. He quickly had me caressing my breasts and on the verge of an explosive orgasm. He seemed to know all the buttons to press and it drove me insane with lust.

“Mmmnngg!” I moaned, wriggling my body in anticipation of my climax.

He continued relentlessly stimulating my clit and only stopped to say, “You are mine, Carol.”

“Yes, Mr. Boyd,” I said with my breath getting heavier. “Fuck yes!”

His determined tongue lapped my pleasure nub as he tightened his hands on my thighs.

“Ohhmmnngg!” I moaned, wriggling as the intense orgasm shot through my body and made my pussy spasm.

Moving up my body, he said, “I suppose your husband does that for you.”

“No, no,” I said. “Never.”

“Who owns you, Carol?” he asked, running his cock from my opening up to my clit.

“You,” I answered. “You, Mr. Boyd.”

He held up my jelly-like legs and pushed his throbbing member deep into my contracting pussy. He began thrusting into me like a mad man, to make it clear that he owned me. At this point, I had become more than just his personal secretary, I was now also his personal slut.

“Mmm, fuck me!” I cried, encouraging him to keep pounding into me.

There I was, in the bed, I shared with my husband, with my legs spread out wide and my feet up in the air. Getting fucked by my new boss while my husband was out performing with his band trying to impress me.

“You’re a good slut,” he said then gave me a hard slap on the face.

“Oh, yes!” I reacted to the stinging feeling his hand left on my cheek.

He then moved his right hand over my neck and tightened it to choke me.

“Mmnngg!” I moaned, feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure and the fact that my fantasy was finally coming true.

I held my legs up for him and felt an even stronger orgasm coming due to the increased sensations the choking was causing me.

“Harder! Harder!” I managed to say, with his fingertips gripping my throat harder.

He slapped my face with his free hand before bringing it down between my legs to rub my clit. He gave me a few more hard thrusts to send me over the edge.

“Ahhmmggg!” I moaned with such orgasmic pleasure that I was unable to tell if my eyes were still closed or if I was blacking out.

The next thing I felt were his hands around my thighs and his cock buried in my pussy as he released a plentiful warm load into me.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groaned, coming closer to me to kiss my lips for the first time.

As I laid there in a semi-comatose state, our tongues played with each other and not a single thought of my husband crossed through my mind.

“See you at work tomorrow,” he said, standing up to get dressed.

Still not recovered from the intensity of the orgasms and the choking, I only managed to answer, “Mm-hmm.”

It wasn’t until I heard the front door close that I regained a feeling of normalcy.

“Shit, I gotta try to make it out to the show,” I thought.

I quickly got dressed and fixed my makeup and hair before leaving the house. Luckily, the event wasn’t too far away, and I could possibly make it in time to see the finale.

When I arrived, I could hear the announcer introducing my husband’s band onto the stage. My revealing dress seemed to attract every man’s attention on my way to the front of the medium-sized crowd, but all I cared about was that my husband spotted me out.

Sure enough, he saw me and smiled just before the music started playing. A strange feeling of guilt came over me as I realized how crazy the night had gone. It was good that I had made it out in time to see my husband and his band perform, because he was trying to impress me and make me happy. The contrasting thing from my end was that I was standing there in the dress I had bought to impress my boss, and I had his cum dripping out onto my panties and thighs.

My thoughts were broken by the cheers of the crowd and even though I hadn’t paid attention to the performance, I joined in by clapping my hands.

I met my husband behind the stage and gave him a congratulatory hug.

“Y’all were great,” I said.

“Thanks, honey,” he said, checking me out just like all the other men. “Glad you came by.”

When we got home, I repeated what I had done with my boss and took my husband up to our bedroom. I didn’t know if it was guilt or excitement, perhaps a mixture of both, that made me drop to my knees and service my husband for the first time in a very long time.

“Oh, honey,” he said, brushing my hair aside. “You really are making me feel like a rock star.”

‘If you only knew that my boss creampied me right here in our bed,’ I thought. “And that I’m doing this to my boss tomorrow.’ It was some much-needed bonding in our marriage, but it also served to freshen up my oral skills for my boss. I mean, I had to return the delicious favor he had done to me earlier in the night.

I belonged to Mr. Boyd and had no intention of stopping what we had just started, but I had to keep my husband at least somewhat content for the time being. The things Mr. Boyd was able to get out of me in a few days far outweighed what my husband had done in years. My submissive and cheating sides had just come to life and they were going to be nurtured by my boss.