I paced the large office, my four-inch Christian Louboutin, Maudissima patent heels click-clacking on the polished floor as I retraced my steps like a caged tigress. Being the executive editor of the fashion magazine had been my dream since I began working here and I loved it but today had been difficult and I needed some relief from the stress of it all. I entered the small private cloakroom and looked in the mirror closely. Thankfully there were still no signs of crow’s feet around my eyes.
At twenty-eight I was beginning to worry about lines but my skin remained in good condition no doubt helped by lashings of expensive moisturizers. I had inherited my darker skin-tone from my mother who came from Brazil and the illusion of an even tan had been the envy of many of my friends. My father had met Mum during a business trip thirty years ago and brought her back to England, she had been working as a dancer and I owed her many of my ‘assets’. My long raven-black hair reaching to my waist had only ever been trimmed, never cut; and I also had her fabulous legs for which I would be eternally grateful!
I opened my white blouse and reached for the little bottle of ‘A Touch of Pink’ and treated myself to four or five puffs across my neck and breasts, the smell of sandalwood and jasmine mingling to make me feel sexy. My breasts were another feature from Mum. They were above ample for my petite five foot one height, measuring in with a healthy 36B cup, nicely encased in a pretty lace demi-bra from Victoria’s Secret. I buttoned up the blouse and unclasped my business skirt to tuck it in before hitching it back up just above my knees, smoothing my hands over it to remove creases and straighten the satin lining.
Strutting out purposefully I pressed the intercom. I didn't speak and it was late but knew Jack would reply, not daring to leave until I gave him permission. The building would be almost deserted by now.
''Miss Pentic?'' he inquired.
''Who else, you idiot. Get in here now!''
He didn't reply but the door opened and he entered within thirty seconds carrying a notepad.
Jack was small for a man, probably little more than five-four but he looked good in his smart suit and colorful tie, his thick curly flaxen hair and maintained stubble giving him a boyish charm. He was about the same age as me but looked younger.
I stepped out from behind my huge desk, the super high red soled stiletto heels click-clacking as I rounded it and stood in front of Jack in the center of the room. Power dressing was certainly my thing, jacket and business skirt had been tailor made in a black woolen material with a faint pinstripe, the hemline just cruising around my knees, legs shimmering in sheer black, seamed nylon stockings. With my heels I was about the same height as him but I felt taller and certainly empowered.
''You won’t need this,'' I said confiscating the notepad and discarding it on my desk. I pointed towards the ground; his eyes following my long slender nail polished fingers. ''Down on your knees,'' I ordered. My pussy tightened in excitement at the sound of my own words.
Jack obeyed without question kneeling before me. I moved in on him and pressed the front of my skirt against his face, the scent from my perfume and the smell of expensive couture exuding from me.
''Put your hands up my skirt and describe what you feel,'' I whispered.
He knew he was on probation and yet I was allowing him to explore me, to do what I knew he had drement of doing from the beginning. His hands slithered up the sides of my legs and under the hemline of my skirt into the warm, dark recess of my femininity.
''Well?'' I demanded.
''I can feel the tops of your stockings,'' he began, ''they feel smooth but lacy,'' describing my stay-ups perfectly. His fingers quivered as he slid up further. ''Your skin is soft above your stockings.'' His voice became slightly breathless, ''your panties are silky, probably satin.'' I felt his fingers smoothing over the soft material covering my well-rounded bottom then down the cleft between the top of my thighs, sliding around to the front. I didn't flinch as he explored the covered entrance to my pussy, my high heels clicking as I opened my legs a little; the pilot light of my pussy suddenly igniting inside me. Looking down on him I could see his cock leaping to attention in the front of his suit trousers hardening quickly as the heat on his fingertips intensified.
''Now tell me what color panties am I wearing,'' I husked. Each wrong guess will earn you two strokes of my cane, I added in a whisper, my pussy getting moist with the threat.
Jacks fingers trembled as he played them over the tiny patch of lace at the front, moving around again to my seat and the larger area of my panties allowing him to rub his palm across them. But what color were they?
''Black,'' he offered, no doubt assuming they would match my stockings.
''Two strokes of my cane,'' I barked triumphantly. ''Did you think I would be that predictable?''
''White,'' he guessed again without thinking.
''Four strokes of my cane, do you think I am a virgin?'' I said sarcastically.
''Pink,'' he panted rubbing his fingers along the edge of my panties, his cock without a doubt iron hard from imagining what they looked like beneath my black skirt.
''Oh dear, six strokes of my thin cane, your bottom is going to be very sore Jack,'' I giggled. This was too easy. ''I'm insulted that you would think I would wear pink, I'm going to make it eight strokes,'' I announced, my panties getting quite damp.
''That's not fair,'' Jack moaned.
''I'll decide what's fair. Getting dismissed wouldn't be any less fair, would it?''
''No, Miss Pentic'' he agreed. I was going to whip him mercilessly with my cane and there was little he could do about it other than resign, and he had already agreed to accept my punishments and stay. Besides, he had a new apartment and a large mortgage to support. (There was also the small secret he had withheld from his new boss; he had begun to enjoy it!)
''Red,'' he decided sounding desperate.
''Ten strokes,'' I said gleefully, any particular sort of red? I inquired. My nipples were straining beneath my bra and my panties had gone from damp to wet at his fumbling incompetence.
A lead at last he thought. ‘Crimson,’ he offered.
‘Twelve strokes,’ I almost shrieked. ‘You're easily fooled Jack.’ I pushed him away and his hands fell from beneath my skirt. ‘You're hopeless,’ I admonished. My manicured fingers fell to my sides and I clenched the hem of my skirt, with hips writhing from side to side I hitched it up to my waist. ‘Now tell me.’
‘Purple,’ Jack said staring at the cute tiny little panties he had played his hands over, they were a deep purple of smooth satin with a lace front panel, another favorite from Victoria’s Secret! He had at least correctly identified my sheer black nylon stay-ups high up my legs; then the show was over as I wriggled my skirt back down and smoothed it into shape.
‘Stand up,’ I commanded.
He rose to his feet before me, his smart blue pinstriped business suit wrinkled at the knees and a huge bulge at his groin as his cock continued straining against his trousers. Jack couldn't’t resist dancing his eyes all over me, first to the open neck of my blouse, my buttoned up jacket serving my breasts up towards him, then he was at my waist and skirt and then my legs. His stare fixed on my shoes, the dagger thin killer heels mesmerizing him.
I was his mistress now, in total control over him, but up to a fortnight ago it was a very different story. He had joined the firm only a few months back after having impressed an all female Board with his charming personality and his skills which looked great on paper. I was his secretary. A situation I was very unhappy with having been with the firm since my graduation and knew the business inside out. I thought I stood a very good chance of getting the editors job when it became vacant. The Board had all but offered it me and then along came Jack and snatched it away, with the added insult that I would be working for him as his secretary. A role I felt I had risen above.
Jack obviously was unaware of the behind the scenes wrangling over his appointment with some members of the board still in favor of me and he came with a cocky highhanded attitude. On his very first day he had lectured me on my place and what he expected from me and with hindsight he should have seen what was to come by the look of total anger on my face. Then as I turned for the door he had swiped his hand across my bottom, 'Be a good girl and bring me some coffee,' he hissed, the look I gave him then should have told him to watch his back. 'Revenge will be sweet’, I had thought as I scuttled out of the room, the feel of his hand on my derrière enraged me beyond anything he could have known. 'No man smacks my bottom and gets away with it,' I had seethed as I slid behind my desk.
It took over three months to extract my revenge. Three months of patience and silence as Jack’s overconfidence led him to make costly mistakes, his ineptitude continuing to evade the eye of the Board, still in awe of his charming ‘little boy’ looks. I couldn't’t believe how stupid they were and I wanted to alert them to the building disaster but then, why should I? They had appointed him and they would pay for it.
Then one day the perfect opportunity came along and when it did I acted quickly and seized the moment, leaving a paper trail from Jack’s mistakes directly to his desk. The company lost thousands and when the balloon went up there was no way he could wriggle out of it and was duly suspended pending a full inquiry. That was always going to be a foregone conclusion, even Jack knew that, painfully aware that he'd been out of his depth and completely powerless to avoid the consequences. His dismissal was inevitable and his mortgaged flat almost certainly lost when he was called back to face the Board.
At first he seemed surprised that I was in the room to hear his disciplinary findings. I sat passively in a dark business suit; my long legs crossed and brightly polished fingers in my lap, my short skirt giving him a flash of stocking top as he waited for the inevitable. The Board was itself smarting over the obvious lack of management and Sarah Johnson the director responsible for hiring him and the main player in preventing me getting the job, was busy clearing her desk. The blond witch whom everyone walked in fear of had shed tears like a freshly spanked girl as the rest of the Board dismissed her without hesitation, eager to distance themselves from the mess Jack had caused.
‘Your actions were unacceptable for someone in such a high managerial position,’ the Chairwoman was saying. ‘Therefore appropriate steps have been taken to replace you with immediate effect. As you are still on probation we are not obliged to give you anything other than your normal notice period which will begin as of now.’
'So that was it,' he thought; out of the door and unemployed, possibly even unemployable. He cast a glimpse towards me wearing a satisfied smile.
‘However,’ the Chairwoman continued. ‘Your replacement has requested a secretary and we are able to offer you that role. This will mean a large demotion and reduction in salary but the choice is there.’
Jack was suddenly brought back to life, his mind in a whirl and not even thinking about the long-term situation. It was a job; and he desperately needed that! ‘Thank you Madam,’ he said deferentially. The other members of the Board, all female, looked embarrassed by his pathetic toadying.
The Chairwoman looked over her spectacles at him. ‘I have to say that we as a Board took some convincing by the new manager that you were worth keeping. Since the Board have accepted some responsibility in taking you on we feel you should have this option but you owe this opportunity entirely to her, young man. Let me be understood, if she so wishes you will be dismissed without any further inquiry?’
‘Yes Madam,’ Jack uttered quickly. ‘Thank you Madam. I won't let you down.’
‘We'll see about that,’ she remarked dismissively. ‘Your personal belongings have been removed from your old office and placed in the outer office. Miss Pentic will be your new manager and you will take your directions from her in the future. Understood?’
‘Yes Madam,’ he stammered, still reeling from her last words. Miss Pentic, Nikki! She was his new manager!
We had officially swapped jobs and I spoke for the first time. ‘Wait for me in my office,’ I barked.
Jack turned on his heel and left.
Unknown to the rest of them in that room, I had almost climaxed watching Jack squirming in front of his female superiors, a lone man with nowhere to go except to my office to await whatever fate I decided for him. Even as the Chairwoman was speaking I had already decided what that fate would be and my panties were damp in anticipation. It was late, well past the time when the office staff had left and the executives would soon leave the building, leaving me and Jack together, alone in MY office, with him at my beck and call!
I had dreamed of this moment for a long time; he would regret having given me that silly slap on my bottom!
When I finally entered the office, Jack was standing in the middle of it, casting his gaze around what was his office up until a few days ago. He didn't know whether to be angry or contrite. ‘You really stitched me up,’ he hissed as I entered.
‘I don't know what you're suggesting,’ I said squaring up to him. ‘You weren't up to the job. Simple!’ I stepped up closer, ‘You heard the Chairwoman. One word from me and you are out of the door. You will do as I tell you but if you can’t agree to that then you are free to leave, is that understood?’
Jack knew he was defeated. ‘Yes, Nikki,’ he said resignedly.
‘Miss Pentic,’ I reminded him. ‘You will address me as Miss Pentic at all times.’ I brushed past him and sat behind the large desk. ‘Come here,’ I ordered pointing at the space by my side.
Jack rounded the desk and stood where I had indicated.
‘How much do you want to keep your job, Jack?’ I said playfully, pushing back my chair and crossing my legs provocatively. My underskirt rustled against my stockings and I was having fun, my pussy tingled.