Yet just as I was getting used to this new form of relationship, it became clear that Zoey herself was yet to discover her own sweet spot in the whole spectrum of the power balance.
I was about to discover just how dangerous it could be if the balance shifted completely out of my comfort zone.
*
Zoey emailed just before lunch one day, calling me into her office. She said RJS had suddenly pushed everything forwards a week, and that we were to give a full presentation of our proposal first thing the following morning.
Philadelphia wasn't far, but instead of driving up there at the butt crack of dawn, my boss wanted us to go that afternoon, staying overnight in a hotel so we were completely fresh when meeting with the execs from the software firm.
I was instructed to polish up our proposal ready for the presentation - a fair amount of work, actually, since I usually left the final push on a pitch until the last few days so that I was fully immersed in the details when I gave the presentation.
"You have two hours to put everything together - the PowerPoint, the handouts, and so on. I know you're extremely familiar with the client. Once you're done, we'll drive up there - is that clear?"
"Yes, Ms Schoenberg."
"If you're on time, then you'll be rewarded. A minute late, and you will not. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma’am."
I felt a little giddy, actually, at her use of the word "reward", not to mention the plan for us to stay overnight in a hotel. Would we have one room or two? The company would no doubt book two, for the sake of appearances if nothing else.
She dismissed me, and I scurried out of her office, the next couple of hours becoming perhaps one of the most intensive work periods of my career thus far, as I essentially postponed the team's lunch break to set all hands on deck.
We were done, with the best possible proposal we could muster in such a short period, with five minutes to spare.
"Excellent," Zoey said, not bothering to examine the goods, simply standing up to usher me out of the office.
She thanked those members of our team who had not yet rushed off to get their late lunch as we ventured through the office towards the elevators. I wondered if any of the other members of staff might have a clue at what was happening between Zoey Schoenberg and myself.
In the car I began to brief Zoey on the final RJS proposal and its context even as I was still driving out of the parking lot - detailing the market in which it operated, and the various elements of our proposal to promote their brand in our portfolio of magazines.
The briefing continued as we passed the beltway and, off and on, all the way up the I-95. I was careful not to speak unless she asked me a question, respecting the rule when the two of us were alone together, but those questions kept coming, even as we headed through Delaware, past Wilmington and then on towards the South Philadelphia suburbs and into the heart of the city.
My final points were made as we stepped out in the little courtyard in front of the Sheraton down by the end of North 2nd St, checked in, and rode the elevator to find our rooms. As I had suspected, we had two separate rooms, but as we came to our adjoining doors, she wasn't simply going to invite me to share her room - I would be based in my own space.
"Excellent, Jones," she said regarding my briefing as she opened the door to her room. "I think you've earned your reward."
"Thank you, Ma’am." I was shaking. God, I needed release.
"We'll open the door connecting our rooms, and then I want you to take a shower and come to my room. You won't need any clothes. Got that?"
"Yes, Ms Schoenberg."
Keeping calm was no easy matter when I felt like I had some kind of amphetamines flowing through my veins. We unlocked the doors to open up our two rooms, and then yours truly took the quickest shower ever.
Then, I dutifully arrived in Zoey Schoenberg's hotel room, naked as the day I was born.
*
Zoey was lying curled up on the bed waiting for me as I ventured inside her suite. She was wearing nothing but a pair of uncharacteristically bright neon pink panties and a matching bra, along with a hungry-looking expression, her glasses sitting on the bedside table. She was breathtaking - every curve presented in such a way as to drive a man crazy.
"I'm going to be nice to you, Jones," she said, her voice softer than usual, making me wonder if she wasn't in the mood for a little 'Ordinary Mode' loving. "I appreciate the work you've put in for this presentation."
"Thank you Ma’am."
"Come here," she ordered me.
I walked forward, my cock appearing to grow harder with every step, influenced no doubt by her near-nudity, that little bra and panty set, which seemed somehow too girly for her new dominant persona, making me suspect she had elements to her character I was yet to fathom.