| Mistress Lubyanka | |
| My bullying boss (part 1) by Alan | |
| About me |
I’d guess
that most people have heard about bullying in the workplace, or have
possibly Of course, my name’s not really Alan. The last thing I want to happen is for my wife to find out about this! I’ve also changed my manager’s and colleagues’ names. I might even have misremembered some of the events in this story, or exaggerated them a bit. I’ve been working for my company now for nearly a year. My idea of a perfect job, really. I work as part of a pretty tight-knit group. There’s two junior buyers, Steve and Andy; two seniors - myself and Sarah, and the boss, Helen. Sarah was pretty cool to work with - attractive enough, if you like freckles and the “natural” look… pleasant to look at, but not exactly my type. She always seemed a bit detached from the rest of the team, which I suppose was fair enough, given that the guys tended to spend more time together doing male bonding type things. The real icing on the cake, though, is Helen - or “Miss Ford” as the juniors call her. Helen always wears a white blouse, as is pretty much the uniform for the ladies in the office. A short dark skirt that stops a little above her knees, and shows off her legs in a most provocative manner seems part of her particular uniform. She has perfect legs... encased, of course, in a most proper pair of tights. Normally black. She always wears a stylish pair of sandals or shoes - Gianfranco, Prada, Jimmy Choo... anything that stretches her calves and preferably her toes as well. Slim as a pencil, with perfect skin, sparkling eyes, and a dazzling smile. She hadn’t relied on her looks to reach her position, though, as she knows the company inside out. Smart and looks in one package? You probably think I’m exaggerating a bit, but trust me on this - the woman’s every guy’s wet dream in real life as well as fantasy, I assure you. The day it all started began just like any other. It was about six months after I’d joined the team, and the only thing that was different about today was that I was due for my six-month assessment review. Helen was already in the office, even though I arrived at seven. Andy was next, clutching his egg sandwiches wrapped in cellophane, and the small bottle of apple juice that he always placed on the table - just so. We shared a joke about a programme we’d both watched on the telly the night before. Steve arrived about eight-thirty and, as was his way, the first thing he did was to offer to get everyone a coffee. He sat down, right on the edge of his seat, as though he couldn’t get close enough to the paperwork on the desk. He always did that, it was a bit weird. We were chatting amongst ourselves until Sarah sauntered in, a couple of minutes before nine. As always, this was the cue for us to get down to work. My first six months had passed by pretty quickly, and I knew I was doing a good job. I therefore wasn’t really too worried about the appraisal. I knew I’d met all my targets, sales of the drinks were about ten percent up versus the year before and all projects had been met on time. Nothing to worry about. I was due to go and see Helen at eleven, and as I got out of my chair, Andy took me aside and said in a very earnest tone, “Remember, if things don’t go as you expect, take it like a man and you’ll be fine.” I gave him an odd look. Was he trying to undermine my confidence? Or, did he know something I didn’t? Trying to forget what he’d said, I went down to the small office at the far end of the main one. Helen was already sitting there as I entered, of course. As I walked in, she motioned me to sit down, and then did the strangest thing. First of all, she pulled the blinds down over the windows to the main office, then locked the door. “After all, we don’t want to be disturbed now, do we?” I mumbled an agreement. What was going on, I thought? “Well, let’s start with your work record so far. It’s good, I’ll give you that, and the juniors seem to get on well with you. In fact, I’d say you’re a good fit in the team. Yes?” I nodded my agreement, and started to speak, but she motioned me to silence before continuing. “In fact, if it wasn’t for one small detail, I’d have no hesitation in signing you off as a ‘strong performer’. And, it’s that detail which actually really worries me.” Here, she paused, and looked expectantly at me. It was obvious I was supposed to say something. I wracked my brains and tried to think what she could mean, but nothing came to mind. I was really worried now, and could feel myself sweating a little through my cotton shirt. Had I done something wrong? “Hmm. I can see you’re not sure what I’m talking about. Let me give you a clue. Are you aware that sexual harassment is now considered to be gross misconduct?” As she said this, she gave me her sweetest, most dazzling smile. Harassment?? What was she talking about? I knew I was in serious trouble. This was no longer just about a standard appraisal, but was turning into a disciplinary! If I wasn’t careful, I’d be thrown out of the company with a black mark on my record. I managed to stammer out a response, “Harassment, Helen? I’m not sure I...” “Sarah. She’s reported you looking at her in an inappropriate fashion on a number of occasions. She’s asked you not to, but apparently you persist in oggling her at every opportunity. You’ve even started... patting her... when she walks past you?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I’d done nothing of the sort! And although Sarah’s not bad looking, who’d settle for that when Helen was around anyway? I began to splutter a response, but was cut off yet again. “We’ve actually been a bit concerned about this from before you started with us, but weren’t certain whether we’d read you right. You had a great C.V. though, so we decided to take the chance. This is what Rachel wrote after your interview.” She reached into an envelope that was sitting on the desk, and took out a single piece of paper. She passed it over to me, then instructed me to “read out the highlighted part”. Rachel had written, “Strong candidate, can do the job. Bit of a perv, though, he couldn’t stop staring at my feet the whole time. If he likes mine, he’s going to love yours, Miss Ford.” I had to read this to myself a couple more times before it really sank in. I thought I’d got away with that. “Do you like my feet, Alan?” Helen demanded. By this point, I was far too shell-shocked to say anything at all. “Alan? I asked you a question and I demand a response. It’s a simple question, do you like my feet?” She slipped one of her sandals off and wriggled her toes. I could think of nothing to say, other than the truth. “Yes Helen. Very much so. They fascinate me.” “I see. Don’t you think it’s inappropriate for a subordinate to be fascinated by his manager’s feet?” “Yes Helen. I’m sorry. “I can understand why you might be, though. They are rather beautiful... even if I do say so myself. Would it be inappropriate for you to kiss them, Alan?” My heart raced. This was getting like that film with Demi Moore in it. Was this really happening? “Yes, Helen. It would be. Very.” “Would you like to do it anyway?” and she lifted her leg towards me. Looking back on it, this was perhaps a pivotal moment. Regardless of what Sarah might or might not have said, this was going well beyond the relationship that a manager would have with someone who works for her. I faced a choice now - I could probably just walk out of the room, and she’d never dare to take any action against me. Or, I could follow her lead and do what I’d secretly been fantasising about for the last six months. Well, what would you have done? Not a hard choice really, is it?I got down on my knees, reached for the sole of her foot, and gently brought my lips down to her big toe. If you’ve never kissed a woman’s feet, you can’t really imagine how it feels. Partly degrading - after all, you’ve just handed total control over to the woman towering above you. But, partly uplifting as well, when such a beautiful creature allows you to touch her in this fashion. And, the sweet perfume... oh, it’s enough to drive any red-blooded man wild. “Enough!” she snapped, and pulled her foot back. I came out of my happy place. “So, we were right about you, you are a pervert after all. What are you, Alan?” Without thinking, I answered straight back, “A pervert, Helen”. A smile returned to her face, but not the dazzling, toothy one I’d always seen before. This was more just a slight stretching of the lips. A very cruel smile. “If you please me, perhaps I’ll let you kiss my feet again. Would you like that?” I nodded. “Of course you would. Very well, then. We face a choice. I either give this report that Sarah made to HR - a report which, of course, I fully support as I’ve felt some of your unwanted interest in me myself. Or, you can try to please me… in which case we can just forget that this... nasty... report ever made it on to my desk in the first place. What’s it to be, Alan?” “Please, Helen, this is my career you’re talking about. I’ll do anything....”“Anything?” “Yes, Helen.” “Good... now we’re getting somewhere. We can begin with you showing me a little more respect. From now on, you’ll refer to me both in public and in private as ‘Miss Ford’. Do you understand?” “Yes, Hel... Miss Ford”. “Very good, slave. You learn quickly. But, first of all you’ve been a bad boy. You’ve been having bad thoughts about my feet, and for that you must be punished. Isn’t that right, slave? Hold out your hand.” “Yes, Miss Ford.” I responded, and held out my right hand. Palm upwards. I could feel the blood draining from my face as she drew out a foot-long ruler from a drawer in her desk. It didn’t take a genius to work out what has going to happen next. With a sharp “crack”, she brought the ruler down on my palm. I was gritting my teeth in anticipation of the pain but was surprised when it came. It wasn’t too bad at all, in fact nowhere near as bad as I’d always imagined this would be. Perhaps my pain threshold was higher than I thought. “Did that hurt, slave?” Helen demanded. I shrugged. “Not really, Miss Ford. A bit of a throb, but that’s all.” Not the right response. I saw a flash of anger appear in her eyes. “Then I must punish you further, mustn’t I? Again.” I held my hand out once more defiantly. Let her do her worst. Again, she raised the ruler, but this time she aimed at the knuckles. Instead of hitting the flesh, that ruler now smacked right onto the bone. There was a moment when I couldn’t feel anything, and then it hit me. My hand felt like it was swelling up - I was sure she’d broken the bones, and tried to lessen the pain by gripping my hand between my knees. Throughout this, Helen was standing a little off to the side, watching me with amusement. After a few minutes, I started to regain my composure and was able to stand up straight again. “Don’t be a baby. Can’t you take your punishment like a man? You’ve had your fun, now it’s time for me. Hold your hand out again.” At this point, I nearly told the bitch that she could forget it. Who did she think she was, to do this to me? But then I remembered what Andy had said as I’d walked in. I hesitated for a moment... then held out my hand again. I could see two white stripes across it, one on the palm, the other on the inside of the fingers. I actually felt a small thrill of pride as I saw the marks... they looked pretty bad, but here I was, willing to have a third one added. Baby indeed. “Rule number one,” she said, “is to thank me whenever I punish you. After all, it’s for your own good.” With that, she brought the ruler down for a third time, in almost exactly the same place as the second blow had struck. I was a bit better prepared for it this time, but even so I’m sure she put a bit more into the third stroke. I fell to my knees, and for a moment I couldn’t think of anything except the pain... but then as I looked up into her face, I realised what she was waiting for. “Th-thank you, Miss Ford” I managed to stutter. With relief, I saw a genuine smile light up her face. “Much better, slave. You do learn your lessons. You’ve earned this.” She went back over to her desk, and picked up a bottle of mineral water. I was puzzled for a moment, then realised I wasn’t meant to drink the water. It was still icy-cold, and the throbbing died down almost immediately as I poured it over my bruised hand. Nothing had ever felt as good as that. As the water soothed me, Helen ran her fingers through my hair, and ruffled it a bit. Almost like she was fondling a favourite pet. I started to relax a bit, savouring the moment. Sadly, Helen had no intention of letting this go on for long. “Take your shirt off.” I hesitated, and received a sound slap as punishment. “Rule number two - every command I give you will be followed quickly, with no hesitation and no questions. Your shirt. Off. Now. ” She started to reach for the ruler again. In my haste to remove my shirt, I pulled a couple of buttons off. I now stood there, naked to the waist, utterly out of my depth. “Now take off your socks and shoes.” I pulled them off hurriedly, and stood there trembling, barefoot. “Good.. very good. Very nice. Hands behind your head.” I clasped my hands behind me - I’d never felt quite so vulnerable in my life. I’m not exactly proud of my body, but here I was in a very compromising situation, but with one of the sexiest ladies I’d ever known. Talk about confusion! She came over to me, and laid a hand flat on my chest. “Now, I’m going to see whether or not you’re a man.. or just a boy.” As she said this, she took hold of my nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and rolled it around a little. Just as I was starting to enjoy the sensation, she gave it a much harder squeeze, between the pads on her fingers. Surprised, I pulled back a few inches. A look of anger came across her face. “Now, Alan, that won’t do at all, will it? You should thank me for this, after all I’m giving you a chance to save your career here.” “Yes, Miss Ford. Thank you.” “Come back here.” She took my nipple again, and began to pinch it harder. “Look into my eyes,” she commanded. “I want to see the pain there.” Now, she started to dig her nails in, and as I drew in breath, I saw the mock sympathy in her face. “Aww, does that hurt, slave? Perhaps a little harder?” Now it was really hurting... and I started to wonder if she was going to pinch right through the skin! A few tears appeared at the edges of my eyes. Just as I was starting to feel as though I really couldn’t take any more of this, she released the pressure. There was a moment of agony - even worse than when she’d had me right between her nails - and then relief, as she rubbed the blood flow back into where it was most tender. "Did you enjoy that, slave?" I had certainly not but had learnt my lesson well and parroted, "Yes, Miss Ford, thanks you." She looked pleased, which made me feel good... almost like I used to feel when mum was proud of me. “Good boy. Now, let’s see what you have down below, shall we? Keep your hands behind your head now.” I heard, rather than saw, my flies being unzipped, Her hand disappeared inside my trousers, and I was instantly aroused as she gripped my now-hard penis. “This,” she said, “belongs to me. What is this, slave?” “It is yours, Miss Ford.” “That’s right. Show it to me.” She pulled out then watched as, red-faced, I removed my trousers, and then to my utter embarrassment, my underpants as well. If I’d thought it was bad when I was simply stripped to the waist, then this was totally mortifying! “Hands behind your head, and stand with your legs apart a little”. By now, I knew better than to hesitate for even a fraction of a second. She cupped my testicles in her hand, and gently rolled one against the other. I felt my penis harden against her fingers, as I felt myself getting aroused by her attention. “Not bad... we can have some fun with these,” she whispered. I felt my excitement starting to grow. She went and sat down again, leaving me standing there. It was a few minutes before she said anything again. “Now, slave, before we continue I have a few more ground rules. I would like you to continue working for me, as we have been up until now. I would also like, from time to time, you to serve me in any way I see fit. In return for this, your career here will be safe. You’ll also be granted the privilege, from time-to-time, of worshipping me as you have done already. Nothing of what has happened in this room will ever be spoken of again - at least, not in public. I will give you a number of additional tasks, or conditions that I will expect you to perform in the office. And, everything I say will be followed without question. Is that understood?” I nodded. What else could I do? “Before I permit you to serve me as a slave, I need to confirm that you have the will to truly serve me. Spread your legs apart further.” I realised how extremely vulnerable I now was. I thought I’d already known fear with the ruler, but now I was shaking so hard... “Calm down. The first one will just be gentle. Look into my eyes. Remember, this room isn’t soundproofed, and I don’t want anyone outside to hear.” Somehow, I managed to look into those flashing blue eyes. She drew herself closer to me, and I could feel her breath on my chest. I thought I’d prepared myself for it, but nothing can prepare you for a knee straight in the groin. Particularly when you’re already naked, and totally vulnerable. It’s a cruel, cruel trick that’s made men so open to attack by women. I nearly screamed in agony as I fell to the floor, but managed to catch the yell before it escaped from my throat. In silent pain, I writhed around on the floor for a few minutes before the burning finally settled down a little. All this time, Helen had been standing over me, that cruel smile still flashing across her face. If I hadn’t been suffering quite so much, I would’ve been able to enjoy the view a lot more! Then I remembered what she’d said just before... “Stand up, slave. That was just a gentle one. I’m going to kick you once more, this time a lot harder. If you please me now, you can kiss my feet again. Stand up again.” Trembling, I got to my feet. Could I really go through with this? "This is now your choice, slave. Will you do this for me?" I paused. Then, slowly, I nodded my head. I couldn't get a word out. "Good... very good. Open your legs and let's see those balls hanging down. That's right..." This time she kicked, rather than used her knee. I saw a flash of light, as the agony ripped through my body, and then everything blacked out. When I came around, I was still on the floor. Mercifully, the pain in my testicles had subsided to a dull throb. Miss Ford walked over to me. “Now then, I must apologise in advance. There’s one more bit of fun I want to have before you get your reward.” She walked over to the windowsill, and picked up a bowl of decorative polished pebbles. “On your knees, slave, and come over here.” I crawled over to her on all fours. “Now, turn around, and put your face to the floor.” Buttocks sticking up in the air, I was expecting the worst. Was it going to be the ruler again? Or something worse? Miss Ford, however, had other plans. “Open wide!” she teased, and I felt her spreading my cheeks apart with one hand. She pressed something cool against my anus, and began to push. The pressure built up for a moment, but just as it began to hurt I felt the coolness go away. It took a moment to work out what had happened, but slowly it dawned on me. She’d put one of the pebbles inside me! Although this didn’t hurt at all compared with what she’d already done to me, my humiliation at this violation made this perhaps the worst yet. Six or seven more pebbles followed the first one, and I started to feel uncomfortably full, almost as though I desperately needed the bathroom. “There, that’s nice,” said Miss Ford, “keep those there all day. It’ll hurt a lot more when they come out... so make sure you’re at home when you remove them. We wouldn’t want people here to get the wrong idea now, would we?” She giggled to herself, probably imagining the ordeal I still had in store for me. That was the first time I’d ever heard her laugh - it was a pretty sound. “Bring them back tomorrow... clean, of course! Well done, slave, you have pleased me, and have earned your reward. You may worship my feet.” As I lay there on the floor, Miss Ford told me about the other ways that I would be pleasing her around the office. She detailed some of my new “special” duties, when and where I would become her plaything. She also told me how I would be rewarded for serving her. I didn’t really care - this was my dream come true... being able to lick between her pretty toes, taking in the scent of her feet, rolling my tongue over her heels and soles... well, I was in heaven. I was so disappointed when she told me to get dressed again. I started to put my underpants back on, but she motioned for me to stop. “Actually, I’ll take those. And in future, you’re never to wear these in the office again, do you understand? I like my slaves to be easily accessible when I feel the urge to make use of their... assets.” She continued to watch as I replaced the rest of my clothes, feeling my confidence begin to return bit-by-bit as I returned to normality. “Strong Performer”, she announced, as she signed off my appraisal. “But remember, if a word of this gets out, it will be your word against mine, and I still have Sarah’s allegations to process”. Word gets out? I had no intention of risking losing this at all! “Until next time, Alan. You may leave now... and send Steve in, would you?” She unlocked the door, and rather shakily, I left the office to return to my desk. I was tempted to say something to Steve as I got back, but I think he already knew Miss Ford wanted to see him, as he was already halfway out of his chair. Then I saw it in his face. Something I hadn’t seen before, but now could recognise immediately. A mixture of fear and excitement... he KNEW! “Miss Ford’s ready for you now, Steve,” and I gave his shoulder a squeeze as he walked over to that small office, at the far end of the main office. I went back to my desk, rattling a little as I did so. Sitting down wasn’t a pleasant experience either! There was a brief stab of pain as the stones inside me pushed against something they really weren’t meant to! I squirmed around a little, trying to find a position that was comfortable, and eventually found one right at the edge of the chair, nearly falling off the front. It was going to be a long afternoon, and I didn’t even want to think about the train journey home... As I said at the beginning, I’ve been working here for almost a year now, and the second six months have certainly been more challenging than the first six. But that, as they say, is another story. Continued....
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