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The Office [StarlightKitten and Mr. D]

Mr. D

Mr. D

Planetoid
Joined
Dec 26, 2010
Location
Sweden
"I just love my job." he thought, and couldn't help to laugh a quiet laugh as he double checked the numbers in the file he had on his brand new oak desk. It was his first day behind it, and he felt assured that it would be a good one.

Charles had just been promoted as manager of the banks East Asia fund. He had no real passion for his job - he saw it more as an opportunity to earn large amounts of money and feel better then old ex girlfriends when he met them at high school reunion parties. Thats why he had put so much effort into getting this promotion. Well, at least that was half of the truth.

The other half was named Daisy. When he first met her he had felt like a nervous schoolboy looking at the beauty of the class. Instantly, he had loved her. Unfortunately, she had turned out to be a teas - even though he never worked up the guts to ask, by just the tone of her voice she made it clear that she would never date a lowlife like him.

That rejection had distorted his feelings for her. To protect himself from the feeling of failure, he had turned his love into hate, despising her more than any other living creature. It was hard for him to admit it, but half of the reason he had wanted this job so badly was that he didn't won her to have it. And now, as it turned out, he would not only have the her promotion, he would have her as well.

Wearing his black Armani suit, with a blue tie that had cost him more then some make in a week, he smiled at the numbers in front of him. He let a hand run through his short black hair, his cold blue eyes fixed on the file he was reading. "That little thief…" he said to himself.

He got up and walked out from his office, out to the small cubicles where his subordinates worked. Yesterday, they had been his colleagues, now they were not. With a bright smile on his face, he walked up to Daisys desk. "I want to see you in my office, miss Worwick." he said, emphasizing the word office, just to underline the fact that he had one when she had not. "And bring some coffee. Sugar, no milk." Without even awaiting her response, he walked away, back to his office.
 
It had taken so much self control for Daisy to enter the office that day. Her anger had been bubbling, having spent hours at the gym the night she discovered that the promotion that should have been hers belonged to the man that had less experience and less passion for this job. Not that Daisy adored her job, she was just naturally good at it. Numbers came easily for the young woman and handling money was something she enjoyed, though not half as much as spending it. Both were reasons she had been carefully siphoning money from the bank, barely enough for anyone to notice, but enough to support her cushioned lifestyle.

Stepping towards her desk, her black heels clicked against the floor, her composure calm and subdued, having gotten out much of her aggression again at the gym last night, aware that this morning would test her patience. Her black skirt hugged her lower half, ending just above her knees, enough to show off her long, slender legs, creamy skin visible. Her torso was covered with an expensive Chanel, white button-down blouse, hugging her perfectly toned body, the top few buttons undone just enough to reveal cleavage without looking inappropriate for the office. She was good at that, always careful.

Of course she'd known Charles, having easily passed over him upon meeting him, aware that his personality was far to subdued, or so she thought, to handle someone like her. She knew that she was a strong person, and was often quite picky in those she dated. However, as he had made it clear he was vying for the open position as well, she had grown to dislike him. Gorgeous as he was, she was competitive, and she couldn't lose to him. But she had.

Sitting at her desk, she crossed her legs, brushing back some of her long, voluminous dark brown hair, similar deep brown eyes focused on the work before her. Hopefully the day would be quiet, without much to distract her. But that was proving to not be the case, watching as Charles walked over, her anger immediately flaring back up as he spoke, gripping her desk as he walked away, telling her the coffee to bring. That son of a bitch... She thought to herself, her eyes narrowing coldly as she stood.

Grabbing a mug of coffee, making sure to grab one of the unclean cups, she filled it with the brown liquid, making sure to put in milk and no sugar, the opposite of what he wanted, making her way back to his office. Opening the door, her shoes clicking as she stepped in, she flashed a fake smile, placing the coffee on his desk, "Your coffee, sir." She spat out the words, folding her hands in front of herself, looking at him with disdain, "What can I do for you?" She thought perhaps he wanted something menial taken care of, enough to irritate her, rub in his promotion over her.
 
He was sitting behind his desk, his feet up on it, with a nonchalant look on his face. The suit fit perfect on his tall, muscular body. She could remember him bragging about being a swimmer when he was still trying to get a date with her, and judging from his body it was no lie. Not bothering to thank her for the coffee, in fact not even bothering to look at it, he answered her question. "I just wanted to know what you think about the view from here, isn't it beautiful?" He didn't care to hide his smug smile, after all he had no reason to. The office was on the twelfth floor, and the view of the city through the panorama window was indeed fantastic. "And I wanted to know what you have to say about these transactions, miss Worwick." he added, handing her the pile of paper he had been reading. They had started calling each other by first name a long time ago, but he just couldn't resist the temptation of being formal with her.

"I must say you are pretty good at hiding the trace." he said. "But off course, as usual, not good enough. Or, should I say, not better than me. I have traced all those small cash flows to your personal account. Together they become quite large, large enough to warrant quite a hard punishment, I would say."

That mean, condescending smile on his face just wouldn't go away. Anyone not familiar with the situation could mistake it for happiness, but those who knew Charles knew what it meant - it was the satisfaction of catching his prey, of defeating his enemies, of being number one that shone through.

"While you think about your defense speech, you might want to go get me some new coffee. And don't screw up this time. Sugar, no milk, darling. You might as well get used to doing as your told."
 
The anger was visible in Daisy's face as he spoke, getting annoyed at his banter. She wanted to walk over and punch him, hit him as hard as she could, taking every ounce of self control not to. She didn't care how attractive he was now, how good he did look in that suit. He was being an asshole, and she was getting annoyed with the entire situation.

That is, until he tossed the papers to her. Immediately, her color left her face, going pale as she looked at the transactions, all normal from the outside, though he had dug deeper, perhaps trying to find something to pin on her, finding that the money all flowed to her bank account. She took a step back, soft pink lips parting as she tried to absorb the situation, taking in his words. Was he going to turn her in? Tell the police? She picked up the papers, to make sure he wasn't just bluffing, though immediately she realized that indeed, he had found quite a bit of incriminating information.

"You... you can't do this to me..." Her voice was quiet, disbelief that someone could have possibly outsmarted her. Wasn't it enough that he got the promotion over her? Now he was doing this? What did he want? Placing the papers back on his desk, she shook her head, regaining some composure, her eyes locking onto his, though fear was dancing within them, "What do you want? Money? Are you turning me into the police?" Losing her job would only be the beginning of the problem, aware that she would be arrested if this turned up to anyone. Maybe he just wanted in on her little scheme, and she would be willing to cut him in, aware that she had nothing to barter with at this point, completely having ignored the bit about the coffee.
 
He raised his hand, signaling to her to be quiet, shaking his head. "I'm not interested in money. You see, in contrast to yours, my job actually pays a salary that you can live a decent life on." While he spoke, his blue eyes were fixed at her panic filled ones. She could remember how those eyes always used to knock around, never daring to meet her stern gaze, back then when he was trying to gain her affection. And his voice, he had never seemed to be able to finish a sentence without stammering a little. Now, both his eyes and his voice, they were so different… so cold.

"This will not be easy on you, miss. There will be consequences, harsh consequences. You will come to regret this little scheme of yours." he said, speaking slowly with the voice of a stern teacher lecturing a naughty pupil. "And when it comes to the police, you will be given a choice. Actually, its all up to you. But before we discuss it any further, I want my coffee, miss." She could tell that he had to restrain himself not to just laugh out loud, so amused did he seem to be by the situation. That stern voice, it was clear that it was just a charade. Was it aimed to scare her? Or was it to humiliate her? Did he like playing with her like this?

"Actually, answering to my needs and fulfilling my orders quicker will be one of the things you will have to work on, if you wish to stay on your position. And stay out of jail, off course. So get working." he said, waving his hand to show that he wanted her to start moving.
 
So he wasn't calling the police. Yet. It felt like her entire world had come crumbling down around her, all that she had built, worked so hard for. While she hated him right now, she also acknowledged that he had something over her, and the fear was winning out in the battle inside herself. She swallowed hard, taking in a sharp breath, forcing herself to break eye contact as if his own blue eyes had suddenly taken an entirely new life.

Her mind had little time to process, assuming that perhaps she was just going to be an underpaid secretary to him for a while. She could live with that. Immediately turning, she walked out of the office, the fear beginning to trickle away as she was no longer in his presence. Alright, so just work for him for a while. It was doable. Maybe he'd even get tired of it, find a girlfriend and forget that he had a secretary, maybe he just needed to get laid. In the meantime, she found herself falling back towards a feeling of anger, beginning to pour him the correct cup of coffee this time, ensuring that it was steaming hot as well

All she had to do was follow this scheme for a while, then when he wasn't looking, destroy the evidence he had. She'd stop siphoning money from the bank, destroy the evidence, and even create a false trail back to him. She was good with numbers, it was something that could be done. He'd deserve it if he was caught, anyways.

Taking in a calmer breath, hiding the anger once more, she returned to his office with a fake smile, placing the correct coffee on his desk, "Will that be all, sir? Any paperwork you want filed?" Suck it up for now, she kept repeating to herself, standing poised before him.
 
Again neglecting to thank her for the coffee, he took his time answer her question, taking some sips from the steaming cup before he spoke. "Honey, this isn't about me getting you to do my paperwork or something like that." he said, his voice much more informal now, but still with that condescending tone that could drive even the most patient person crazy. "I will demand mush more from you than that."

He got up from his chair, walking up to her, the expression on his face filled with false sympathy. He was a terrible actor, but that didn't stop him from playing the game. Taking her hands in his, holding them gently, almost as if he was about to propose to her, he spoke with a soft voice. "This will hurt, it will make you said and angry. But after all, you got yourself into this mess and you will have to get yourself out of it as well." His thumbs was softly caressing the soft skin of her palms, and she could not for all in her life understand why he was playing so friendly suddenly, when the things he said were so horrible.

"Today, you will be my slave. You will happily do anything and everything I tell you to. You will obey every order I give you, without any limits." While he spoke, he looked into her eyes, his blue eyes completely empty of all feelings, like if he was unable to even feel pity for her.

His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath against her skin when he spoke. "If you don't, you will be reported to the police. It is as simple as that. Either you are a bad girl, and then you will be arrested, or you are a good girl, and then you will be forgiven. What will it be, Daisy? Are you a good girl?"
 
Maybe it was that she was trying so hard to pretend that it was something else, maybe she had really known what his intentions were. His tone itself was making her angry, though she was trying to make sense of what he was telling her. Could he really be serious? What did he mean, more than paperwork? What could he possibly have wanted that wasn't money or doing his work?

Her hands were cold, she realized as his own warm ones took hers, standing about six or seven inches below his height, looking up as he stood close, speaking about how he was going to... hurt her. Her heart sank, the blood rushing away towards her legs, her fight or flight kicking in. But she couldn't run, and she couldn't fight him, only letting him touch her, that much even making her skin crawl.

This man was not at all as she had imagined him. She had seen him as stuttering, weak, and unable to fend for himself. Now, he had more control over her than she could imagine, with a job title above her own. It was as though their roles had reversed, although Daisy was completely unprepared for taking such a... submissive role. Be his slave? Was he entirely serious?

His breath made her quiver, unintentionally, the warmth against her skin making her freeze, unable even to argue. She could yell that she'd call the cops, but then her own problems would come to light, and perhaps he would argue that she had made up everything he said. There were no cameras, no recording devices, no proof that he was trying to blackmail her into sexual favors. More than that, blackmail her into being his slave.

"I can be... a good girl..." Her voice was much weaker now, straining to come out of her throat, straining to tell him that she would comply.
 
When she spoke, her fragile voice and unfocused eyes reminded him of the way he used to feel when speaking to her. Now the roles were reversed, and he intended to take advantage of it to its fullest extent. He was filled with a warm sensation, the sensation of power, of might. It even made his body shiver - the feeling was so strong that it manifested itself physically. A roar was rising in him, an unstoppable force was gripping him, and for a second he thought about just bending her over his desk, right there, right then, and take her. Penetrate her tender body, claim it as his, thrust his cock into her, fuck her hard. It was not a sexual attraction he felt to her, it was just the urge to claim his trophy, to take what he had conquered.

He was starting to squeeze her hands, harder and harder, to make that mental image go away. The image of Daisy screaming and moaning with her faced pressed to the desk under his big, strong hands. He barely noticed how hard he was pressing her hands, his mind was miles away.

Play it cool, you have to play it cool, he tried to convince himself, and using all his willpower he regained control. He let go of her hands, raising a shaking hand, contemplating slapping her over the face for a second, instead using it to softly caress her hair, letting his finger run through it. He bended forward to kiss her forehead, pressing his dry lips against her skin, feeling the taste of her sweat. "Good girl. You can begin by getting down on the floor, start making sit-ups, while I explain the rules." It was a pointless task - he had nor reason to force her to exercise, judging from her slim figure she already did. He just wanted to see her reaction, see her work when he ordered him to.

She was his now, all his. He would take her down, sink her to the bottom. He would kill all her dignity, all that self righteous dignity that she had used to fend away his attempts at seduction. He would not stop until he had crushed every last part of her self respect, until she was a pathetic wreck of a human being. This would be her end.
 
Her eyes were frantic, fearful as he squeezed her hands harder. She was almost afraid to yelp, to draw her hands away from him, for fear of what he might do. His retaliation. He had her entire future in his hands, a possible arrest, a trial, even if she made it through all that, there was no way she'd ever have anything other than a menial job to go to at some retail location. No, she was his, whether she wanted to be or not. At least until he tired of her.

When he did finally let go of her hands, she let out a soft sigh of relief, flinching slightly as he pushed back her hair, the dark strands soft against his fingers. His lips against her skin made her feel almost ill, as if she was beginning to taste what her loss of freedom would be like. Maybe he would just have her do his bidding in the office. Maybe he'd even get tired of it after a week or two. Hell, she could even stand a month of this.

Hearing his command, that she do sit ups, she paused for a moment. Her eyes were confused. Was he serious? Her head turned slightly, aware of the privacy that they had in here, the door closed, his shades drawn that would normally allow one to see inside. She almost wished people could see, stop him from doing this. She swallowed her pride, taking a breath before carefully making her way to the floor.

She slipped off her heels as she took a seat, trying to pull at her skirt slightly to ensure he wouldn't be able to see down it, placing her hands on the back of her head. Closing her eyes for a moment, she lifted her torso up, her knees bent in the typical sit-up position, her breathing beginning to get a bit harder as she began. Of course, she was fit, and this wouldn't be terrible, though she did worry about sweating, how it would look coming out of his office with her hair messed, sweaty from her sit-ups. Maybe that was his plan, embarrass her. The thought made her shudder as her cheeks began to flush.
 
He smiled as she got down on the floor, starting to do sit-ups. She did not even protest, not even when being given such a pointless task! This would be easy for him - she just couldn't escape from him. He walked up to her, standing above her with one foot on each side of her body. Every time she forced her head up from the floor, she had to stare right at his crotch, and he knew that the bulge in his black pants his hard cock caused would be clearly visible.

"Tonight, we will go out on a little date. You will meet me outside the Pulse, you know that club down by the river. You will be wearing the most slutty things you can find in your wardrobe - i want it to be obvious what kind of girl you are. I will be giving you orders, and you will follow them. If you don't, it's game over, police station next stop. Do you understand me?"

He had regained his calmness now, his voice steady and cold. Only his eyes showed a slight hint of the wilderness, of the uncontrolled desire, he had showed earlier. He bended down, reaching his arms in under her skirt, gripping her panties, pulling them off. Not for a second he seemed to care for feeling her out, even when he had such a perfect opportunity. He threw the panties to her, they landed over her face. "And for the rest of the day, you will be having these sticking out from your breast pocket. I know George at the accounting department is hot for you, I'm sure just the sight of them will give him enough fantasy fodder for a week of masturbation."

He reached out for her hair, patting her head softly, then rubbing it, making a mess of her hair. She was sweaty, her hairdo ruined. It was obvious what he wanted her to look like. "Now get out of my office, and meet me outside the Pulse at eight. Don't be late."
 
Her eyes were focused on some spot on the wall before he stood, one leg on either side, his crotch in her face every time she moved upwards. It made her sit ups much slower, certainly, as if dreading what was waiting for her when she lifted her upper body upwards. She wanted to close her eyes, tightly, very aware of what would happen. He would demand her not to. The less she had to deal with from him the easier her life would be. Get on his good side. Daisy was good at manipulating most people, and why would he be any different? Pretend like she was easy to control. Daisy would not be an easy one to break, not by a long shot.

His instructions would have made her cheeks flush, though they were already red from the exercise. She knew the place, of course, though thankfully not many people she knew spent time there. Given her luck, though, she did expect to run into people she knew. Seeing her in those clothes... She wanted to vomit. Fearful and humiliated.

As she was nodding that she understood, she felt his hands slipping under her skirt, gasping suddenly. Her sit-ups stopped, her arms inadvertently moving to stop him, though quickly stopping herself. Don't do it, Daisy... let him have his fun. When he ripped off her panties, she gasped, wincing slightly as they landed on her face, immediately removing them. She tossed him an angry look, aware that her arguing would be in vain, "Fine." It was all she said, letting him mess her hair up more, her eyes focused to the side, angry, filled with fire.

When he gave her permission to stand, she tucked the panties away as best she could, trying to straighten her outfit a bit, running fingers through her hair as she placed her heels back on, making her way towards his door. Placing a hand on the handle, she tossed him a sideways glare, "You're a goddamn monster." She was pissed off now, opening the door with conviction and a smile, the smile more for the rest of the world than anything else. Her hips still swayed as they always did, making her way back to her desk, ignoring a few of the looks she got, the whispers that followed after. She'd be damned if she let him get the best of her. Not without a fight.
 
"I know I am, honey. Quite a horrible one." he said, as he watched her leave his office. She seamed to be regaining her spirit. She knew what kind of person she was - always a fighter, never giving up. Not even when it was best for her. But after all, a little resistance would just make it more fun.

He turned to his computer, starting to send some emails to prepare for the evening.

- - -

He was standing outside the club, listening to the loud beat of the music, still wearing the same expensive suit. Glancing at his Rolex watch, he mumbled "Soon she is late. I'll make the bitch pay for that." There was a long queue outside the club - it was a Friday, and the Pulse was a popular place. Lonely men desperate to get a girl, alcoholics drinking compulsively, dumped bimbos looking for a rebound, they all gathered there. It lacked every aspiration of class, and no one caring about his or her reputation as a respectable person would go there. That was exactly why he had picked it.
 
The rest of her day had been dedicated to forgetting about what was happening. And for the most part, she did fairly well. Her work was completed and she was content, heading home at the usual time, waving at a few folks. But upon her entrance into her very well-decorated apartment, it hit her what she was going to have to do for the evening. No relaxing bath with a bottle of wine, no watching television. She was going to dress in her worst and go out with the man she abhorred.

By the time seven rolled around, she began getting ready, feeling disgusting, putting off her attire until as late as possible. When she did show up at the club, 8:05 to be precise, she looked like a stripper. A tight, black skirt clung to her lower half, ending just barely below her ass, black fishnet stockings covering her legs, high, black stiletto heels on her feet. Her torso was no better, a red corset-like top pushing her breasts up and together, almost spilling out of the top. Her eyes were lined with black, mascara on as well, deep red on her lips, putting the outfit together. Her hair was simple, though, down and around her shoulders, almost looking like an entirely different person, which was the point.

She walking towards him, having to be careful as she moved, afraid something might pop out, or she might slip or trip, given she only ever dressed like this when she was in the privacy of her home, for men she had chosen carefully. This was not her public outfit. She approached him cautiously, still shorter than him, of course, even in her heels, "Let's get this over with." She eyed him, trying to keep her head down a bit, avoiding the looks she was beginning to get from some of the men in line.
 
He smiled as she approached him, obviously pleased by her appearance. Not caring about her rude remark to hurry, he gave her a soft hug, just as if she was a good friend or a real date he had been waiting for. Well, not that anyone would actually take a real date to a place like this. "You did good on the clothing, you really look like a cheap whore! I will even forgive you for being late just because you look so pretty in that." he said with a kind voice, sounding like he was telling a small girl how beautiful the picture she had painted was.

He put an arm around her waist, and led her past the queue. As they approached the guard, a tall guy that seemed to be almost as wide as he was tall, she could feel Charles hand sliding down over her back. It quickly reached her ass, and he took the liberty of squeezing it, almost like he was trying it out. The guard was wearing a blue uniform, and the reflections from the neon lights made his shaved head shine. He looked at the couple with bored eyes. "Your not on the VIP-list. Just go to the back of the line like everybody else."

Charles turned to his date. "Daisy, will you sort this out? I don't care what you do, just solve it for us, ok?"
 
His words almost hurt, though she was entirely aware of how she looked. Clothes she never would wear otherwise, that she had felt disgusting walking through the street with, were being complimented. She wanted to spit at him as he said it, though bit her tongue. The arm around her waist was tolerated, though she was making no effort to return any of the 'affection' he was delivering. It made her wonder just how long he had been planning something like this. He seemed too quick to tell her how to dress or what to do. It was almost frightening. Almost.

When the guard stopped them, and his command was given, she was well aware of what he expected. A man like the bouncer wouldn't be tempted by money, but by the bodies he saw, hers, without track marks and so well taken care of, so natural, he would be tempted. Tossing Charles an angry look, Daisy walked to the bouncer, aware of the crowd around, leaning upwards. She whispered a few things into his ear, followed by a quick nibble at his earlobe, her hand straying down his chest. He seemed to be taken with her gesture, Daisy finishing by telling him her number, a fake one of course, though it seemed enough.

The bouncer moved away, letting them enter, Daisy entering with Charles, giving him a fake smile, "Are you quite satisfied? We're free to enjoy our night now."
 
His smile back was equally fake. "Yes, I am satisfied, but no, we are not free to enjoy our evening now. I am free to enjoy my evening - I doubt you will be enjoying yours at all." he replied and grabbed her hand, starting to lead her over a dance floor packed with people. Most of them seemed drunk, quite a few to drunk for their own best. "Unless you are just as slutty as you look." he continued, yelling over the music. "Well, when this is over you will be, anyway." The music, some boring attempt at electronica, was really loud, and the stroboscope light made the world around them flicker.

Even though there were some groups of girls, the majority of the guests were men, most of them seemed to be alone. In some weird way the scene reminded her of lonely wolfs circling their prey. And judging from the looks she got, she was the new target. Even though a pretty girl like her might be used to getting hungry looks, it was clear this attention was more the result of her clothing. She was not signaling beauty - she was signaling availability. If he hadn't been holding the hand of another man, they would probably have been all over her by now.

Finally they reached the bar, and Charles pressed through the crowd up to the bartender. "What can I buy you?" he asked smiling, the question sounding almost like they were on a real date.
 
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