Submitting to Her(44)

It said only: "Present yourself in my office at 5:30pm to explain why you have failed to carry out your instructions."

My heart sank like a torpedoed submarine, and I think I must have audibly sighed, since my colleague Scott said: "Everything okay, dude?"

I sighed again, trying to portray casual annoyance this time, although inside my chest there was something of a nuclear meltdown going on. I said: "Yeah, I just realized I forgot to include a couple things in the RJS presentation."

"Ah well, it went pretty well from the sounds of it," he said, buying my line.

"Yeah, it did."

"You seem to be a pretty good team with Zoey these days."

I smiled, hoping desperately that I wasn't blushing like an idiot. I said: "I guess you could say I've had my eyes opened to her effectiveness as a leader."

I was dreading our meeting a little before I went in. What had I done wrong? I really had no idea. Was it possible she'd found out about my wet dream? How? I hadn't told a soul.

The thing was, if she wanted to punish me, she now had the inside track on how to do so in such a way as to really hurt me. I couldn't see her bringing Brandon into the office on a weekday evening, but there was renewed recognition within me of Zoey's real power.

Waiting to go in there, I had the suspicion that our head of department had a quiet desire to punish me anyway, regardless of whether she had genuine cause to complain. Maybe she'd make an assumption that I'd touched myself at some point. I'd find it hard to lie to her if she asked me.





*





At last came the appointed time. Everybody else had left for the evening other than the cleaning woman. I nervously stood outside Zoey's door and knocked.

"Come!"

My heart was racing and my stomach full of butterflies as I entered her office.

"Ah, Jones. Close the door behind you."

She was sitting at her desk, apparently working on some paperwork as I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, then took a few paces towards the desk, to stand demurely at attention.

For a few moments, she ignored me, and the tension within me just continued to build.

Then she said: "What were your instructions, Jones?"

"Not to touch myself during the weekend."

She breathed once, twice, then shook her head. "No. Not those - I assumed you complied with those instructions."

"I did," I insisted, adding: "Ma'am."

She scowled at me. "And now talking when I haven't asked you to? Oh dear, Jones. No, the instructions I'm referring to were your requirement to ensure I'm compensated each day for the stress you inflicted. Correct?"

"Correct, Ms Schoenberg."

My head spun as I tried to figure out what she meant. Surely I'd been attentive? I gasped as I realized what, perhaps, she was getting at.

"And so what happened yesterday?"

Sunday. She'd never enforced Sundays before.

"I... I don't know, Ms Schoenberg," I stammered. "I forgot... it was Sunday..."

She shook her head gently. I tried to appear calm, though inside my chest my nuclear meltdown response team was scurrying about with no real idea how to contain the catastrophe currently laying waste to my internal organs.

I half wondered if Brandon really was going to show up, drop by the office to see his ex. Or maybe we'd go back to her apartment, and he'd be there. That idea, strangely, was a little exciting to me, not just horrifying. I was a mess, but it turned out that getting to watch Zoey Schoenberg being pleasured, no matter who was doing it, was a scintillating notion.

In this curious new fantasy, although the woman I was increasingly of the opinion I loved was apparently cheating on me to my face, I was still the one making her come. I was the special one. I was the one who served her, and eventually I would be rewarded with the ultimate access.

"Take off your clothes."

I almost didn't hear her order, my mind wandering to thoughts of my goddess being worshipped by other men. But thankfully, her voice was sharp enough to penetrate my daydreams.

I flicked a quick glance at the door, concerned that it was unlocked.

"I didn't say look at the door," she said.

I started unfastening my buttons. I could hear the cleaning woman outside, or at least her vacuum cleaner. What if she burst in on us while I was servicing Zoey? She'd probably run screaming for the hills, or perhaps for the human resources department where she could report our depravity.

"Come on, speed it up. I don't have all night."

I pulled my shirt off, the cool air of the air-conditioned office raising goose bumps on my arms, and hastily folded it up to lay on the chair in front of her desk. Off came my shoes, then my pants and underwear came down all in one.

Socks off, and I was completely bare. If the cleaner came in now, she would get a real shock.