“Emily, look, I’ll tell you everything. Promise. But not right now, okay? I have to make a call. A private call,” I said.
“Fine, but as soon as you can, you better tell me everything.” I could tell she pushed away her annoyance at being kept in the dark. I inwardly praised her restraint as she walked away.
I dialed the number. After one ring, a husky voice picked up. “Wait at the elevator, Miss Dubois. I’ll be down in one minute.” It was the same security guard from yesterday.
A minute later, I entered the elevator door with the security guard waiting. He nodded at me as the elevator ascended. Once again, he entered a set of numbers into the keypad. I was too nervous to move. Too nervous to even sweat. The elevator doors opened to Alexander Strauss’s floor and the secretary did not look up. The doors to his office stood open.
I will have self-control, I thought, I promise. I will not have sex with Alexander Strauss again. With that thought reverberating in my head, I walked into his office.
The doors closed behind me. I looked around the office and saw him sitting on his desk. He motioned for me to sit in a chair that was in front of him. I walked over to the chair and stood before him, silent. I was not going to sit. I was going to quit. Simple words would flow from me. Strong words. I was done with this job. I would not apologize. I could feel my defiance holding me up, filling me with strength.
“Here.” He held out some papers to me before I could utter a single word. He was smiling.
“What is this?” I asked. His smile defied my anger, which was all over me like red paint. When I studied his face, I did not see any sense of triumph that he was about to fire me. It was a small, barely shadow of a smile, but friendly nonetheless.
“Your talents are wasted in your current position. I want to offer you a new job.”
I looked down at the paper. My eyes scanned the document and realized what he was saying was true. I was speechless. Then I saw the salary he was offering me. My eyes widened and my jaw hung open.
“Why?” I asked. It was all I could think to ask. None of this made sense.
“There’s something special about you. Yesterday, you were honest. Brutally so. Your ability to be truthful is a powerful asset to me. When you told me about the rumors surrounding me, that was incredibly valuable, whether you recognize that yet or not. I need someone by my side who will not bullshit me.”
“What... what am I expected to do for this position?” My mouth felt dry. The contract before me had only a vague title of “executive assistant” with precious little description of my job duties.
“You are expected to do whatever I request.”
Alexander stood up and walked over to where I sat. He circled behind me. I felt his hand slide through the back of my hair ever so slightly, barely touching it. I closed my eyes at the faintest hint of his touch.
“And what do you mean by that?” I asked. My defiance was gone. I was feeling something unexpected. I was excited. I struggled to steady my voice, still confused through the excitement.
“I am quite demanding. That much you said of me is very true. I have high expectations of the people around me. That extends to you.” He walked around to my side, inches away from me. His hand pushed the hair back around my ear slowly, caressing the skin. I could see his figure in my peripheral. I could smell his cologne. “To what happened between us yesterday.”
“What?” I asked breathlessly. It had remained unspoken until now. Until now, I had almost thought it hadn’t even happened, like I had dreamed the entire thing. Now it was real. He was offering me a job as his assistant for an astronomically high salary, an assistant who would also be his mistress.
“You will be submissive to my sexual desires, Samantha. That is part of this.” His hand moved under my chin, moved my face up. His eyes burned into mine.
“What makes you think I would ever accept a proposal like this? That I would be...” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Whore, I thought, he wants me to be his whore. His eyes seemed to incapacitate me. It was hard to speak against the torrent of his stare.
“You enjoyed the sex we had yesterday. You’ve been thinking about it since you left my office. You ate food without tasting it. Watched television without seeing it. Nothing compared to the moment we shared. It was new,” he said, licking his lips very slowly as he spoke. “Giving in to your desire, that carnal urge crying out to be fed, that is something very new for you, isn’t it?”
I said nothing. I thought of the previous night in my apartment, stuck in a daze. Nothing had seemed real compared to the memory of the sex in the office. My eyes fell to his crotch, searching for that hard object that had filled me so completely for a brief moment of ecstasy yesterday. I lifted my head up, trying to shake off the echo of lust that had swallowed me yesterday.
“Fucking my boss is something new for me.” I welled up my anger.
He let out a small laugh. “Titles are meaningless when it comes to sex. Simply because I’m the boss doesn’t mean anything when you submit to me as you did yesterday. In that moment, I could have been a janitor or an artist or teacher. It was only important that I was dominant. My position in the company, my status in this world only provided the opportunity for that moment to happen. You allowed it to happen.”
I thought of my arms behind my back, his hard cock sliding in and out of me as I bit my lip.
“If you had wanted to walk out, you could have done so easily. If you want to walk out now, you could do so. But you won’t. Why?” He stood before me again, his leg touching mine.
“I stay because I want to,” I confessed. It was the truth. I could think of nowhere else I would want to be.
“Yesterday, you and I filled two needs that previously went unfulfilled. So quickly you fell into my rhythm. Your eyes closed, heeding every demand of mine, you felt complete. As if when I was inside of you, nothing was missing. Your thoughts fell away and there was only the moment of us together.” He paused as he leaned his face in close to mine. His hand wrapped around the back of my hair and his lips pressed against my cheek. My eyes closed and I could hear him breathing me in.
He broke away and leaned against his desk, a few feet away from me. I opened my eyes and looked at him, trying to keep my face a blank canvass.
“Before the sex, you showed yourself to be courageous. You told the CEO of the corporation you worked for exactly how you felt. There was no shame to what you said. No fear in your words. I can see you are intelligent. Given the right opportunity, you could accomplish much. You can help me. The drive in you radiates from you. Your hunger to accomplish, to create, is so apparent it’s as though you wear it like a piece of clothing. It only took someone like me to look for it.”
“Yet you want me also because I can be your whore?” I asked coldly.
“Don’t reject your sexuality. This is not about buying sex. Your sexual need is infused with mine now. We are two sides of the same coin. Because we complete a duality of submission and dominance, it binds us in a powerful way. Harnessed in the right way, that makes for a powerful tool in this business,” Strauss said. He paused for a second before continuing, “You are always free to leave.”
I looked down at the contract. Even the salary, so high that it defied belief, seemed to fade away in light of what Strauss had said. I looked up to see Strauss walk back to his desk and sit down. He had described something that I could only hint at. Something that felt right. My immediate assessment was that he wanted me as some sort of sexual servant, some call-girl in the building. But this man was rich beyond measure. He could have dozens if he wanted. Yet he had articulated a bond between us. Something formed yesterday. Here was the opportunity to explore that.
“What if I don’t accept?” I challenged.
“Then why are you still here?” Strauss asked.
I reached for a pen that was positioned strategically on the desk. He must have known I was going to agree before I walked in the door. Reading the contract carefully, I r
eached the end. The line where I was to sign stood out.
I stopped to think about going to back to the temp office, about going back to the wage that I could barely live on—worse, about going back to a life without Alexander Strauss as my sexual partner. It was a life without his demands to be met, to be submitted to. I thought about never feeling his touch against my skin. If I turned and walked out, I would walk out on the possibility of a life I could never have dreamed of.
I looked up to Strauss and stared into his eyes as I signed my name on the paper. I placed the contract on the desk carefully and laid the pen next to it.
“I accept,” I said.
A visible smile formed on his face. “Excellent.”
He stood up from his desk and walked over to me. His hand fell on my shoulder gracefully and his smiled widened. I breathed in his cologne, a faint whisper of his scent. His grip tightened as he looked at me and I wanted to tear off his pants and take him in my mouth. I almost begged him to demand it before I bit my tongue. The hard lines of his perfectly formed face radiated towards me.
He broke eye contact and walked towards a sitting area in his office and stopped at a bar next to it. He poured two glasses of water over ice and returned, extending one to me. I thanked him and sipped it quietly.
“There is much work to be done. I need you to accompany me to a press conference in one hour,” he said.
I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing jeans, a decent shirt, and shoes that, while nice, were nowhere near the level of nice that would required of Alexander Strauss’s personal assistant. I felt like crying in despair. His first task for me was almost set up for failure. With only an hour, I would have no time to go home and get some other clothes. There was certainly no time for me to go shopping.
“I’m sorry Mr. Strauss. I’m not prepared at all for that. I thought I was going to be quitting today, to be honest. My clothes aren’t right for a press conference. What am I going to wear?” I asked desperately. I was worried about losing the job that I had been considering not accepting at all just a few minutes ago.
Strauss walked over to the conference table and picked up a box wrapped in sleek black wrapping that I hadn’t noticed before now. He placed the box before me. I looked over the container in my lap. It had no markings. It was lightweight and made no sound when I gently moved it back and forth, careful not to make it seem like I was a kid trying to probe into a present on Christmas Eve.
“Open it,” he commanded. I felt a flush of heat go through my face at the sternness in his voice. It was hot. The simple demand ignited a small flame of connection between us. His whole body stood rigid and strong. Electricity moved through him.
I opened the box carefully, making sure not to tear the paper. I removed the paper slowly, folded it, and placed it in my lap under the box. He watched me intently. I lifted the top off the box. Inside, I removed the fancy paper that wrapped the garment that I knew cost more than my entire wardrobe. This piece of clothing was the first endowment of my new life, the first figure of my transformation into something new. I lifted it out of the box.
It was lingerie—a beautiful, elegant piece of scandalous lingerie without parallel. There was nothing else in the box.
Lingerie. I was going to wear lingerie to a press conference.
Chapter Four
I stared at the lingerie that I held in my hands carefully. It was beautiful and elegant. Dumbfounded, I tried to grasp the reality of the situation.
The reporters would gasp when they saw me walk out. Camera flashes going off like explosions of light would blind me. Would it be silent, or would questions be fired off in rapid succession as to the nature of the whole fiasco? All eyes would crawl over my exposed skin. Through the shock of being center stage, maybe I’d be aroused. Strauss’s personal assistant, scantily clad for the world to see and admire. Or shun.
No, there was no way that he would have me wear only lingerie to a press conference. Right? Strauss’s judgment could not be that bad for him to be as successful as he was. I looked up slowly from the lingerie to see Mr. Strauss watching me, gauging my reaction. I studied his face for a brief moment and tried to read his reaction, only to find that I had no idea what he was thinking. His face was calm, with the same shadow of a smile that appeared in every official photo of him.
I had committed to accept all of his demands. All right Strauss, I thought, if this is what you want. My face warmed from blushing at the idea of standing practically naked in front of dozens of reporters and millions of viewers at home. I smiled and stood up.
“May I undress?” I asked.
His face remained unchanged as he nodded and held out his arm approvingly.
I pulled my shirt off slowly, moving my hips rhythmically as I pulled the shirt over my head. My eyes burning into his, I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them to the ground and stepped out of them. I turned around and bent to remove my socks. Strauss’s eyes drank in the sight of my bottom; I could feel them caressing my skin. With both hands, I rubbed the cheeks of my ass softly before I looped my fingers around my panties and pulled them down agonizingly slowly, conscious that every minute mattered as the hour of the press conference grew near. With my panties on the ground, I slid my hands back up my legs and spread my ass ever so slightly for his eager eyes. If he had slid into me at that moment, I would not have been able to suppress a loud moan.
I unbuttoned my bra and it fell to the floor. My back to him, I picked up the lingerie and put it on.
When I turned around, he was smiling visibly. My eyes dared to glance down to catch a fleeting vision of the outline of his erection in his pants. My pussy was so wet I worried that I would soak through the lingerie, visibly so.
“Excellent,” Strauss said. “You’re following orders well.” He walked around me, his fingers tracing the lines of the lingerie. I breathed heavily, closing my eyes.
“Here.” I opened my eyes. Strauss was standing before me again, holding out another gift box. I took it from him, looking into his eyes curiously. When I opened the box, I couldn’t help but let out a huge sigh of relief.
Inside was a dress suit. I held the jacket against my chest and it formed around me perfectly. It had been finely tailored, and it looked sharply professional. The fabric was of the highest quality, and as I studied it I couldn’t help but wonder how Strauss had known my exact measurements. I even felt flattered that he had made sure to have it tailored to me.
“You didn’t think I was going to make you wear nothing but lingerie to such an important press conference, did you?” His eyebrows raised and a devilish grin touched his lips.
“Honestly, I thought you just might have wanted that,” I said. “But I’m relieved to know you’re not out of your mind!”
He let out a small laugh, the first time I had heard him actually laugh.
“Put it on, we have to go,” Strauss said. His smile hadn’t faded, nor had his erection. “No need to be slow, time is short.”
I put on the suit. Never before had I ever worn something that felt this good. He pointed to a part of his office where the walls were mirrors so I could assess myself. The suit looked even better than it felt. My features popped out without being lewd. I looked good, really good, but in no way like a tramp. I turned around a few times in the mirror and found myself blinking over and over as if trying to wake from a dream. In the mirror, I could see Strauss watching me, a satisfied look on his face.
The feeling of elation was short-lived, however. The words, “such an important press conference”, were ringing in my ears. It dawned on me that I had no idea what the press conference was even about. And what was I even expected to do at this press conference? Anxiety grew in my chest. This was the first real test that I would have to pass. In the mirror, a vision of a woman whose clothes exuded professionalism and confidence filled my eyes. I only hoped that I could make that vision a reality. Holding on to that image in my head, I turned away from the mirror and faced Strauss, standing tall.
Alexander Strauss held his arm out towards the elevator doors as they opened, gesturing me in. He walked in and punched a few numbers into the keypad the security guard had used. We descended in silence, passing every floor without stopping. Strauss must have a code to bypass all the floors, which explains why none of us had ever seen him in the building, despite the heavy traffic the elevator received. When the doors opened, we stepped into a huge underground. A limousine awaited with the back door open, the driver standing by awaiting our arrival. There were no other cars around.
We took our seat in the back. The windows were all blacked out; the window barricading us from the driver was rolled up. Strauss sat with one leg crossed, looking completely at ease. Panic beat in my chest, forcing me to lick my lips with a dry tongue.
“What am I going to be expected to do at this conference?” I asked.
“The other attendees of the conference will not expect much, if anything, of you.”
He drank from a glass of water that had two ice cubes in it. It had been waiting in the cup holder for him when we sat down.
“What will you be expecting of me?”
“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply.
I breathed a sigh of relief. The pressure was taken off of me, and I could now relax a little. I still felt the anxiety at being at a press conference after believing that I would not even have a job by the day’s end, but I at least could rest in the knowledge that Alexander Strauss was in control. I liked him being in control.
“What is the conference going to be about?” I asked, my voice having regained a smooth composure.
He smiled. “Just follow my lead. Remember,” he said, looking at me now. “Trust me. That is all you need to know for now.”
“Yes, Mr. Strauss,” I said.
We rode in silence for the rest of the way. I felt more nervous than I had before I had asked him questions. I scolded myself for asking him that final question. If I hadn’t asked, I would have felt off the hook. Now, I felt that something major was about to happen. There were events brewing that I had no knowledge of, yet I was to be a part of.
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