The time on the mantle clock showed 9.20pm. I sat on the sofa and slipped my heels off and tucked my stocking clad legs under me. I picked up my glass of Chardonnay and took a sip. My thoughts went to the events of today.
It had actually all started a month prior. I was recruiting for a new secretary when Anne’s curriculum vitae had come across my desk and it struck a cord with me. So I had invited her in for an interview and I had been impressed with her polite and respectful manner. She had also turned up dressed appropriately in a smart charcoal grey skirt business suit and three inch black heels and a white blouse. I had been so fed up with the woman, well actually they were more like girls turning up in the smallest skirt and low cut tops. I like a nice pair of legs and breasts as much as any other sexual being. But in my small business, I wanted professionalism; not a girl trying to ensnare a rich partner. So I had offered Anne the job.
I remember her first day in the office she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Eyes wide and jumping at the slightest thing. But I think she had relaxed by the afternoon when she realised that no one in my small team would make her life hard. Let me describe a little about Anne.
She was thirty-two years old and had only in the last year come out of her shell. Anne was born Andrew and had spent her early years feeling uncomfortable in herself. She had decided to become herself and was now Anne 24/7. She looked slightly like her namesake Anne Hathaway. I understood her dilemma I was in my late forties and had only been Jessica for the last ten years.
Every day Anne arrived on time and worked hard trying her best to complete the paperwork and answering the phones. Each new day brought a new confidence to the face to face interactions with customers. She was clearly fitting in well with our small team and she was blushing less and less to each of James flirtatious innuendos. I had to admit I liked her too; she was to be applauded for her choice in life.
But there was a problem. Anne could not type a letter or report correctly if her life depended on it. I had to send each one back to correct mistakes an average of five times and it was costing me money in wasted paper and time. To make it worse, Anne did not seem to learn from her mistakes; I had spoken to her eleven times to get her to get it right. I had fired secretaries for less than this.
I had noticed as the month wore on that Anne was becoming more and more meek in her responses to me after each reprimand in my office.
So this morning I called her in to my office for the twelfth time.
“Do you know why I called you in Anne?”
“No Jessica?”
“It’s the typing again, you keep making so many mistakes,”
“I’m sorry,”
“Anne, I can’t put up with it any longer, you are costing me money,”
“Please, I need this job!”
Anne started to cry and something inside me flipped. I disliked this pathetic behaviour.
“Sorry Anne it is not going to work, you have to go.”
Anne collapsed to her knees and sobbed into her hands.
“Jessica, I will do anything to keep this job, I love it here.”
Seeing Anne on her knees sobbing in front of me ignited a spark within me and in the sternest voice I had ever uttered;
“Anything Anne, really?”
“Prove it, crawl towards me.”
The shock on her face was evident and with the briefest hesitation she complied.
I was shocked by how much I relished the power I was missusing. But pushed the limit further.
“Put your hands on my ankles.”
Anne’s hand on my stocking covered ankles sent electricity through my body and my ardour rose.
“Is that all, Miss Jessica?”
Oh my god, Anne calling me Miss Jessica had me dribble from my cock into satin knickers. I was drunk with power and did not want to stop. The harshest command escaped my lips.
“Stroke my legs all the way up,”
“Yes Miss,”
As her hands reached up my dress and the top of my stockings and continued up my inner thigh until she brushed my sopping wet knickers. Her eyes widened in shock.
“Stroke my cock, Anne,”
She hesitated a moment then rubbed my cock through my satin knickers. I just leaked more. I hitched my dress up to my waist so I could watch her perform for me. Her eyes looked up at me and I was positive I saw them plead for mercy and for this to stop.
