﻿You’re the Boss

by Pan



Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2024-02-16 23:12:17
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,521
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/YoureTheBoss/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: A boss’s hires a new female employee, and suddenly all of his employees are acting more submissive towards him.
Erotica Tags: ff, ft, mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4



	Chapter 1

“Please,” Michelle said, looking at Olivia pleadingly. She, in turn, was looking at me for approval, and so I gave her a nod—I’m not a cruel man, after all. I signed another form as I did; fun was fun, but the work still had to get done, and these requisition forms were due in by the end of the day.

As Olivia sunk to her knees and tentatively reached out her tongue, tasting Michelle’s wetness, Lisa began to gag. Due to enthusiasm, not disgust—I don’t have a particularly large cock, but Lisa always tries to take more in her mouth than her body is ready for.

The phone rang, and I looked over at Michelle.

“Do you mind getting that?” I asked. “I think everyone else’s mouths are busy.”

It took her a few seconds to register the request—I can attest that Olivia does have a _very_ talented tongue—but as soon as she realized what I was asking, she reached out and answered it professionally.

“Kennedy Development,” she said, her spare hand tugging at her nipples. “Michelle speaking. How can I help you?”

### 1:

Two weeks earlier, Michelle, Lisa and Olivia had just been normal employees, working happily in my office (As happily as anyone can work in an office, that is).

I don’t exclusively hire women—I’m not that kind of boss (at least, I don’t think I am)—but after Patrick left to work for a small start-up, he recommended his sister, and since we were under the thumb (and she had a rock-solid resumé), Lisa began work for us within the week.

That’s when it all started. At least, I think that’s when it all started.

It’s hard to say.

A part of me is sure that Lisa was attracted to me as soon as we met. There was nothing unprofessional about her interview, nothing obvious, but the signs were there—she held eye-contact just a little too long, her fingers lingered on mine when we shook hands. Barely anything at all.

And certainly nothing to worry about—I’ve been attracted to co-workers before, and I know they’ve been attracted to me, but as long as you don’t cross any lines, there’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirtation in the office.

At least, I didn’t think there was.

By contrast, Olivia and Michelle had never shown any signs that they were interested in me for anything other than my ability to provide a reliable job in an unreliable industry. Michelle’s been with us for four years, through marriage and a divorce, and while Olivia had only worked here full-time for a year, we’d used her as a contractor for about eighteen months before that.

And like I said, the relationship had been purely professional.

When Lisa came to work for us, however, something changed.

It was subtle, at first. Sometimes people need to stay back late—it happens. I try not to ask it of people too often, and I always make sure to give them enough warning. If it happens a few nights in a row, I’ll order takeout, keep morale up.

As soon as Lisa started working with us, however, everyone started staying back. Every night. It’s my company, and so I’m used to being the one who stays the longest—we’re all working together on my dream, after all—but as soon as Lisa joined us, I began to notice the office was full, well after 6pm. Not just occasionally—every night.

The deadline was looming, so I didn’t think too much of it. But after we successfully provided the client with their new software, I expected everything to return back to normal.

Nope.

Suddenly, I was the first one to leave—every night. It didn’t even matter how long I stayed…7, 8, even 9pm. No matter what time I walked out of my office, the girls were still there, working hard.

As you can imagine, I was fairly puzzled, and so I called Michelle in for a meeting.

* * *

The moment she entered, I sensed something was different. Now, looking back, it’s obvious…but at the time, I was focused on working out why everyone was staying late, and so I didn’t even notice.

Michelle was wearing a skirt.

Now, I can understand why you’d think that—in itself—wouldn’t be enough to warrant noticing. But I don’t think that Michelle had ever worn a skirt before, in the entire time she’d worked for me. She’s not a radical feminist or anything like that, but Michelle has always been professionally minded—if she hadn’t gotten distracted by her (now ex—) husband, we’d probably have lost her a few years ago; she had the talent to be working somewhere like Google, and it was only a matter of time before she moved on to bigger and better things.

And so I think a part of her had always found skirts unprofessional, like they drew attention to the fact that she was a woman working in a man’s industry. But there she was, sitting in my office, wearing a skirt.

It wasn’t just that, though—there was something different about her persona. Something subtle; she glanced away every time I looked straight at her, and there was a note of hesitancy in her voice, as if she was afraid of offending me.

“Thanks so much for coming in,” I said, and she smiled shyly in response—which, as someone who’s known Michelle for half a decade, I can assure you is an odd reaction from her.

“Of course,” she said warmly. “You’re the boss.”

“I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay.”

At this, Michelle’s eyes widened slightly, and her response was a little too fast.

“Of course!” she said again, stumbling over her words slightly. “I mean, is it? If there’s anything we can be doing…if there’s anything else _I_ can be doing…”

“Everything is fine from my end,” I said, and the shy smile returned. “But I notice that you’ve been staying late every evening, and I just wanted to make sure…—“

“We want to help,” she said, cutting me off. “We believe in you, sir—we just want to help you make this the best company we can.”

Her response surprised me. It was the perfect response, after all—how could I argue with that? And so I just thanked her, and—to her relief, it seemed—sent her back to work. It wasn’t until she left that I realized what was strangest about her reply.

“Sir.”

Michelle had never called me sir. Hell, aside from airline staff and women in department stores, no one had ever really called me sir. That’s why it stuck out.

Something was afoot.

### 2:

That night, I decided to try a little experiment. I decided that I was going to be the last one to leave. It was a tip I’d read when the business was just starting out—part of making sure that you send the right message to your team, all that jazz—and while most of the time I followed it without it being deliberate, tonight I decided to make a point of it. I was going to be the last person out of the building; if anyone else stayed past nine or so, I’d know for sure that something strange was going on.

At nine, I had a bathroom break. To my surprise, everyone was still at their computers, hard at work. They barely even looked up as I passed. At ten, I made myself a cup of coffee, and was glad to notice that Olivia had left…but Michelle and Lisa were still at their desks, working hard.

At eleven thirty, fatigue set in, and I knew I had to go home. Olivia’s office was empty, but Lisa was still on her computer, working hard.

“Are you okay?” I asked, and she jumped at the sound of my voice.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, sir!” she said, but her tone was one of affection rather than annoyance. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

A small blush appeared on her face at my response.

“I just wanted to catch up on a few things. My brother has many strengths, but organization isn’t one of them—I’ve just been sorting through the old assets folder, making sure that the licenses are in the same directory as the file.”

“Is it urgent?”

“No,” she said, “which is why I thought I’d do it after hours. What keeps you here?”

I was tempted to answer honestly—that I was trying to work out why my employees had suddenly turned into workhorses—but instead I spun a tale about collating invoices for the month. She nodded, and I suddenly noticed the similarities between her behavior and Michelle’s—Lisa didn’t seem able to keep eye-contact with me either, her eyes flitting away whenever we were looking at each other for more than a few seconds.

“Care for a lift home?”

“That would be amazing,” she said, and the blush was back.

* * *

The next morning, I was unsurprised to find everyone already at work when I arrived at eight. I didn’t set official hours for the office, but generally people came in around 8:30, starting the day with a chat and a cup of coffee before work began proper.

As I walked towards my office, I noticed something—Michelle wasn’t the only one wearing a skirt. All three of my employees were wearing similar cuts; pencil skirts that hugged their hips tightly, and emphasized their…well, skirts that showed off their asses.

I do try not to think of my employees sexually—I know it can affect your interactions, no matter how much you try not to let it, and that’s a fast road to a lawsuit. But now that I’d noticed the three of them showing off their rear ends, it was impossible not to be aware of it.

I don’t even particularly like pencil skirts, but all three women in my office were wearing identical, form-fitting outfits.

Something was going on.

“Olivia,” I said, “Can I see you in my office?”

“Of course, sir,” she said, and a blush appeared on her face.

I began my line of questioning as soon as she sat down.

“Did Lisa say something to you about how you should dress?”

“Of course not!” Olivia replied, sounding shocked.

“Because in all the time I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a white blouse.” It was true—Olivia was more of a colorful dress type, and the black-and-white secretary motif looked…not bad, but certainly unusual.

Frankly, I found her old style of dress much more attractive. I like women in a bit of color, and Olivia in particular—it suited her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and suddenly she had the same look of fear that had appeared briefly on Michelle’s face the day before. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” I lied, “but you don’t have to change your clothes to suit me.”

Michelle stared at the floor and nodded. I suddenly got the feeling she was about to cry.

“I mean…I like it,” I said, suddenly flustered. Women crying is my biggest weakness—my brain shuts down, and I’ll say basically anything to make it stop . “I think it looks really good.”

“Are you sure?” she said, confirming my suspicion—her eyes were glistening.

“Yes,” I said confidently. “It looks great.”

“Because…if you didn’t like it, I could always take it off.”

My eyes widened in shock, and I was sure I must have misheard her.

“What?”

“I said,” she repeated, her fingers moving up and beginning to undo her top button, “if you don’t like it, I could always take it off.”

“Oh no no no,” I said hurriedly, “No, Michelle, it’s not like that. Please.”

She ignored my words, and continued deftly unfastening her blouse. Ignoring my protestations, she soon ran out of buttons, and with a slight shrug of her shoulders, her blouse fell to the floor.

My mind was racing. On one hand, I knew I had a potential lawsuit on my hands…as well as that, something was clearly amiss. This wasn’t the Michelle I knew at all.

On the other hand, Michelle had a larger rack than I’d ever expected, and I had a front-row seat. She was wearing a black, lacy bra…one of those ones that emphasizes the size of the breasts, but even without it I suspected she would have a more-than-generous pair of tits.

“Please, Michelle,” I said, my eyes threatening to fall out of my head at the sight in front of me. “You can put the shirt back on…”

“No,” she said, her voice full of sorrow. “If sir doesn’t like it…”

I had literally no idea how to respond to that, and so after a few seconds of silence, she got up and left the room, returning to her desk wearing nothing but a black pencil shirt and matching bra.

When I glanced out of my office a few minutes later, she was back at her desk, as if not wearing a shirt was just a normal part of her day. To my surprise, neither Lisa or Olivia seemed to think anything of it either.


	Chapter 2

### 3:

I wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed to relieved when Michelle came into work the next day, wearing the exact same clothes as the day before.

Well, not the _exact_ same clothes—the blouse that she’d been wearing yesterday was currently sitting in my desk drawer—but it was certainly a pencil skirt and white blouse. Lisa and Olivia were dressed similarly, although Lisa’s skirt was more of a dark grey. 

I stayed in my office most of the morning, not sure how to proceed. I could hardly tell Michelle that her outfit was unprofessional…and after the conversation the previous day, I didn’t know what she’d do if I did.

And so I hid until lunchtime, when I had to check some numbers with Olivia. None of the girls looked up—as usual, they all looked like they were being spectacularly productive…which was good, since I hadn’t gotten anything done all morning.

As I was talking to Olivia, Michelle looked up and made eye-contact. I tried to keep my facial expression neutral, and gave her a friendly nod…which she seemed to interpret as some kind of signal.

Without saying a word, she stood up, unbuttoned her blouse, and hung it over the back of her chair, continuing work wearing nothing but a bra. Olivia and Lisa looked curiously at her, and then back at me…and I suspect my neutral face was well-and-truly gone, because as soon as they saw the way I was staring at their co-worker, both of them stood up and removed their tops as well.

“Ladies…” I said desperately, and at the obedient glance that I got in response, my words died in my mouth. To my surprise, all three of them seemed to be wearing matching bras—lacy black numbers, which highlighted and apparently enlarged the size of their tits.

I didn’t say another thing, just returned to my office, where I continued to hide out for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally peering out at the three semi-topless women working in my office.

It was quickly becoming clear that _something_ was up, but I didn’t have the faintest clue how to deal with it. “Employees start stripping” brought up a lot of example videos, but no helpful results, and it seemed that every time I talked to one of the girls, I just made it worse. There wasn’t anyone else I could really talk to about it, not without sounding crazy, and so I just continued to lurk in my office, unwillingly nursing an erection caused by my employee’s breasts.

Michelle was definitely the largest of the three—Lisa looked like she couldn’t be more than a B-cup, and Olivia was only slightly bigger, with tits roughly the size of my ex. I couldn’t get over what was happening—I’m not normally a tit man, but three women suddenly showing off their assets was starting to change that.

By five p.m., I knew I had to do something or I’d just never be able to get any work done, ever again.

“Ladies,” I said, opening my door and addressing them directly. “My office. Now.”

As they filed in and sat down, another difference in their behavior quickly became apparent. Normally they would chat and joke as they worked or came into a meeting, but today was different. They entered silently, sat down, and silently looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I said, and paused in the hope that they’d offer an explanation.

No such luck.

“…but things can’t keep going on like this,” I continued, after a few seconds of silence. All three of them nodded in unison, and I couldn’t help but notice their boobs bounce slightly as they did.

They were sitting identically as well, I suddenly realized—shoulders back, chests thrust proudly forward, but somehow without any confidence in their stance. They looked like they were desperately showing off, as though they wanted nothing more but to win my approval. 

“I can’t have you walking around in your bras, guys,” I said, and a shy smile came across each of their faces.

“Of course, sir,” they trilled at the same time, and before I could say another word, reached behind themselves and undid their bras. Six beautiful breasts appeared in front of me simultaneously, and my brain was suddenly unable to process anything else.

Like I said, I’m not predominantly a tit man, but when three beautiful women offer them to you at the same time, it’s hard not to appreciate them. Michelle’s had a bit of sag to them, but they were topped off by two huge, beautiful brown nipples. Lisa’s were the smallest, but they stood proudly on her chest, pertly presenting me with two of the longest nipples I’d ever seen.

And Olivia’s…I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d guess that Olivia and my ex-wife had gone to the same plastic surgeon. I could see a slight scar underneath each of Olivia’s tits, but as far as I was concerned, the fact that they were fake didn’t make them any less amazing.

While I goggled at the sudden display of boobs in front of me, the girls all blushed, and those shy smiles returned.

“Will that be all?” Lisa finally said, breaking the silence.

“No,” I said, finally regaining control of my faculties. “Girls…ladies…you’ve got to…you can’t be topless in the office.”

A look of confusion came across the girl’s faces, but none of them said anything.

“You need to put tops on—now. That’s an order.”

None of them moved. I wasn’t really sure if that would work, but I’d figured it was definitely worth a try.

“Please,” I added, but they still didn’t move. Finally, after more than a minute of silence, I resignedly waved, dismissing them.

They left the room, their bras still draped across the chairs in my office, and I raised my eyes to the ceiling.

What on earth was I to do?

* * *

### 4:

That night, I barely slept a wink. Every time I shut my eyes, six nipples and three blushing faces came into my head—my life had somehow become a fantasy, a real-life wet dream…but not my own. For one, I don’t even like submissive women—I can see how it’s sort of abstractly hot, but I like my women to have a bit of fight in them. 

My idea woman is an equal in life (and the bedroom), yet somehow I’d ended up with three submissive, obedient women, seemingly at my command.

Except, as I’d proven the previous day, they weren’t. I’d ordered them to put their tops back on, and they hadn’t responded. This was someone else’s fantasy; one that I didn’t have a whole lot of control over.

As I got dressed the next morning, my head was fuzzy, but a few thoughts were quickly becoming clear. It was obvious that this was happening, whether I liked it or not, and so rather than continuing to fight it, I decided to try to learn how it worked. If I ordered the girls to do something non-sexual, they didn’t seem to listen, but if my words could be interpreted sexually at all, that was what they’d obey.

When I arrived in the office at nine, my employees were already there, hard at work. They were dressed like the stereotypical secretary again—white blouses, dark pencil skirts, heels and stockings.

Stockings—now that was something I did enjoy. Very unprofessional of me, I know, but I thought I may as well get some pleasure from the situation. 

I felt bad for the ladies, but they were on the ride with me, and it didn’t seem like there was anything that any of us could do to stop it.

“Good morning,” I said as I entered, and at the sound of my voice, all three of them stood and began unbuttoning their shirts, revealing the bras underneath. The shy smiles returned as their beautiful breasts bounced into view once more.

This time, however, I didn’t run into my office. I approached Olivia, whose tits looked so much like my ex-wife’s, and paused.

“May I?” I asked, and her blush deepening, she stared at the floor.

“Please,” she mumbled, and after a brief pause, added “sir.”

Olivia gasped as I roughly tweaked her nipples, enjoying the rubbery feel of them between my forefinger and thumb. After my wife’s surgery, she lost a lot of sensitivity—either Olivia hadn’t had the same experience, or the reaction was for my benefit.

Nodding, satisfied, I went into my office, noticing a look of disappointment from my other employees as I left. I wondered if Olivia would suffer any backlash for getting preferential treatment, or if they’d simply be happy for her.

I was steadily getting used to being constantly aroused, and so that morning I actually managed to get some work done—mostly just back-and-forth emails with a client about the specifics of our next job, but enough that I was able to once more feel in control of my life.

At lunch-time, I used my buzzer and requested Lisa come in. Within a few seconds, she was at my door, flushed at the exertion of getting there so fast.

“Please,” I said, gesturing to the space in front of my desk. I considered telling her to close the door, but I didn’t mind the other girls seeing what was about to happen.

“What are you wearing under your dress?” I asked, enjoying the slight widening of Lisa’s eyes at the question.

“Silk,” she said simply, and surprised me by maintaining eye-contact for a few seconds.

“Show me,” I replied, and sat back as Lisa unzipped her skirt. As I’d hoped, she was wearing stockings—not pantyhose—and there were a few inches of creamy thigh before the black panties that she’d mentioned came into view.

To my disappointment, Lisa seemed to be cleanly shaved, or at least trimmed. Call me old-fashioned, but there’s something deeply erotic about a full, hairy bush.

“Take off the panties,” I said, and Lisa nodded, slowly lowering them over her stockings.

“Come here.”

A shiver ran up her spine as she obeyed, standing next to my desk. I hesitated before I reached out to touch her…this felt like I was crossing a line. Yes, I’d played with Olivia’s boobs that morning, but I’d asked for her permission. I wasn’t even bothering to do that with Lisa, just treating her like a plaything.

Licking my lips, I decided that I didn’t really have much to lose. If someone walked in and found three topless employees and one wearing nothing but heels and stockings, the fact that I’d touched her pussy would hardly be enough to make a difference.

Reaching out with my middle finger, I slowly ran it along Lisa’s slit. She was trembling as I did—whether with cold, fear, or excitement I didn’t know, and I honestly didn’t much care.

My middle finger parted her folds, and I was unsurprised to discover that she was soaking wet. Her knees buckled slightly, forcing my finger deeper than I’d intended to go, and a gasp left her mouth as I did.

“Good,” I said, and a shuddering sigh left Lisa’s mouth.

“Thank you, master…” she murmured, and I raised one eyebrow.

“Master?”

“Sir,” she corrected, but now it was my turn to smile.

“Actually,” I said, “I quite like master. Tell the others, okay?”

Lisa didn’t respond, and when I looked up to see her reaction, she was looking at the door. I turned to see Michelle and Olivia, standing and watching us.

“Ah,” I said. “It seems they already know.”


	Chapter 3

### 4:

Not much else happened that day. When I came back from lunch—meeting with a potential new client—the other girls had matched Lisa’s new uniform, and so I entered the office to find three women wearing nothing but stockings and heels.

As I’d expected, all three of them were perfectly shaved. All three of them were looking at me pleadingly when I entered, but I decided to ignore them.

What we were doing wasn’t right, and I already regretted encouraging them. I thought of myself was a good guy; a good guy does not take advantage of his employees.

_Perhaps if I ignore them_ , I thought, _things will go back to normal._

I was wrong.

That weekend, I tried my hardest to think about anything else. The trouble is, work is my life—I don’t go into the office on weekends, but I can honestly say I don’t think of much else. Building a company is hard, and I guess I never really learned to slow down.

Eventually, I pulled out my old gaming console, and spent the weekend trying to Zelda all my pent-up frustration away.

When I entered work on Monday morning, the three girls again stood up and stripped down. Aside from that, however, they were very well-behaved. They worked in silence, which was far from normal, but none of them propositioned me, or tried to come into my office and seduce me.

Marching into my office, I locked the door and buried myself in requisition forms. It wasn’t until the growling of my stomach told me that I’d worked right through lunch that I realized—I had forgotten to bring any food.

Setting the paperwork aside, I weighed up my options. I could call one of the girls and have them bring me something—I was sure they’d obey without hesitation—but that ran the risk of escalation.

No, I’d have to nip across the street and get myself something.

As I left, I saw that they were still working hard.

I should have known better. Really, I should have. But I do consider myself to be a good boss, and that means looking after your employees’ well-being.

“Ladies,” I said, wishing I didn’t get a thrill from the way they all snapped to attention, the adoring—and obedient—looks the three of them threw my way. “Try to relax, just a little.”

“Yes, master,” they chanted together, moving my penis from half-mast all the way to full.

I should have known better.

When I came back, a slice of greasy pizza in hand, none of them were at their desks.

I walked into my office, and found Michelle laying on the floor, Lisa on top of her, and Olivia behind her. They’d gotten their hands on some massage oil, and were _most_ thoroughly rubbing each other down.

“Girls…” I sighed weakly, before realizing that anything I said was bound to make it worse.

I’d already learned that they weren’t much inclined to listen to me when I told them _not_ to do something sexual; why would this be any different?

For the rest of the day, I desperately tried to concentrate on my work as they touched each other.

My indifference simply seemed to egg them on, however; the harder I worked, the louder their obvious enjoyment got. Their hands explored each other’s bodies, rubbing massage oil into places that no reputable masseur would ever go. Whenever I answered—or made—a phone call, they’d quieten down, but the moment I ended the call, the moans grew louder than before.

I was tempted to spend the rest of the afternoon making calls, just to shut them up, but I really hate being on the phone.

More, it turns out, than I hate three women putting on a lesbian oil show for my amusement.

When 8pm rolled around and the three of them showed no signs of stopping, I decided to call it a night. Putting on my coat, I politely bid them a good night.

“Good night, master,” they moaned back at me, followed by amused wails as I turned off the lights.

### 5:

When I got to work the next morning, my resolve was beginning to crumble. Clearly, ignoring it was doing nothing. The situation was escalating all by itself.

And if I wasn’t responsible for what the girls were doing, was it really so wrong of me to take advantage?

_Yes,_ I told myself, but I was struggling to believe it.

As was becoming routine, the girls stood up and stripped for me. I couldn’t help myself—I took a moment to appreciate their bodies. If I reached out and touched them, I very much doubted that they’d object. Just as Lisa had last week, they’d let me explore their bodies however I pleased.

It was oh so tempting, but I resisted.

“Yesterday,” I said, affecting the sternest tone I could muster, “the three of you seemed to spend a lot of time away from your desks. Today, I expect you to work twice as hard to make up for it.”

“Yes sir,” they chanted in unison.

I wished that didn’t make me as hard as it did.

To their credit, the girls obeyed. Every time I stepped out of my office, the three of them were hard at work. They’d look up at me hopefully, but when it was clear that I had no further instructions for them, they returned their focus to their computers.

I resisted the temptation to tell them to relax. I knew exactly where _that_ would lead.

Just before lunch, there was a knock at my office door.

“Come in,” I said out of habit, before kicking myself. What had I just done?

“Excuse me master,” Michelle said, slinking into the room.

“Michelle, no…” I weakly protested, and her face morphed into a look of faux shock.

“Sir… _master_ …I just came in here to get your signature on this week’s orders.”

With a sigh, I signed the form. As she leaned down to pick it up, my eyes held on her bare breasts for slightly longer than they should have.

Not that her breasts _should_ have been bare in the first place.

“Thank you, master,” she purred, and practically skipped out of the room.

It seemed my reaction inadvertently began some kind of competition; for the rest of the day, the girls alternated coming in to get me to help them with paperwork. At first, it was a series of legitimate requests; signatures, contact information that only I had, decisions above their pay-grade.

By the time four pm rolled around, however, the questions were growing more and more transparently thin. Finally, when Olivia came in to ask me what size font I wanted on our New Orders page, I’d had enough.

“No,” I snapped, and she stepped back, put her arms behind her back, and bowed her head.

“I’m sorry, master?”

“I know what you’re doing, Olivia.”

“I just wanted to…—“

“No,” I interrupted. “You were looking for attention. Well, you’re not going to get it.”

“I was,” she whispered, and for the second time in a week, I could tell she was on the verge of tears.

“Please,” I said, lowering my tone. “I just…—”

“I _was_ ,” she repeated, and looked me straight in the eyes. “I was looking for attention. It was wrong of me.”

A single tear slowly slid down her face.

“It’s fine,” I said. I almost reached out to comfort her, before realizing how much bare skin that would put me in contact with.

“It’s not,” she said solemnly. “It was very, very wrong of me. Please…”

“What?”

“Please, master—I must be punished.”

“ _What?_ ”

“You’re right to call me out, sir. I didn’t need your help on this; I was just looking for attention. Please, master; punish me.”

“No!”

“Very well, sir.”

Without another word, Olivia stepped out of my office.

What?

It couldn’t have been that easy.

It _couldn’t_ have been that easy.

Narrowing my eyes, I followed her out into the main office area.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the sight in front of me. Olivia was in the process of laying herself over Lisa’s lap, her ass on display.

It was rather a fine ass, I unwillingly noticed.

A better man than I would have walked away. I knew what was coming, I knew that watching would just egg them on, but…

Well, I wanted to watch.

Here’s the thing—I don’t even _like_ spanking. Or, for that matter, lesbians. I’m not a homophobe or anything like that, I’ve just never found it a turn-on.

My ex had refused to believe me when I’d first told her; it wasn’t until she’d found my collection of porn that she believed me. If I wasn’t so into women, I’d wonder if I were bisexual—if there isn’t a cock involved, I get bored.

Watching Michelle enthusiastically spank Olivia, however…I wasn’t bored.

“One!” Olivia squealed, as the sound of the loud smack faded away.

“Two!” she yelped, as Michelle delivered another one.

“Three!”

By the time she hit fifteen, Olivia was openly sobbing. Not just from pain, though that was certainly a part of it—as Michelle had spanked her, it was obvious that she’d gotten more and more turned on. The room was filled with the heady scent of her arousal, and the silences between each smack had been replaced with soft, whimpering moans.

“Is that enough, master?” Lisa asked, turning to me with a needy look in her eyes. At some point during the punishment, she’d come and stood next to me. Her agitation wasn’t as obvious as Olivia’s, but I recognized it from the week before—my newest employee was also turned on.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“You heard him,” Lisa said to my other employees. “That’s enough.”

“Yes, sir,” Olivia moaned.

“Yes, master,” Michelle said at the same time.

The two girls froze.

“Shall we punish her, master?” Lisa asked.

“No!” I said, but it was too late.

Michelle was already bending over her desk.

“I’m sorry, master,” she said, her big brown eyes staring straight at me. “I promise, I’ll do better.”

I marched back into my office, closed the door, and did all I could to remember that the women being spanked out there were my employees…and that I was into neither lesbians OR spankings.

### 6:

I seriously considered working from home the next day. But, as it happened, we had a client coming in. A client too important to be worth cancelling.

Two weeks ago, I would have simply let Michelle take the meeting.

After the events of the last few days, however, I wasn’t confident that she’d even be clothed when Tess arrived.

I actually managed to get to work before any of my three employees; when they entered, I was leaning against my office door.

The three of them came in together, laughing and chatting. As soon as they saw me, their demeanor changed—they immediately fell silent, their eyes fell to the ground, and they began to strip.

“No!” I exclaimed. “Stop that!”

Ignoring my order, they continued stripping until they were standing in front of me wearing nothing but heels and stockings.

“We have a client coming in today,” I said urgently. “I _need_ you to be dressed.”

They stood there silently, none of them moving.

“That’s an order,” I insisted, but it had no effect.

With a sigh, I resorted to plan B.

“Pick up your clothes,” I said, and the three women did as they were told. “Put them out of sight.”

They did.

“Tess is coming at ten thirty. At ten o’clock, I want the three of you to be gone. I don’t care where you go, just as long as she doesn’t see you. You will not return until she’s left. Any questions?”

“No sir,” they chorused as a group.

I grumbled into my office, slamming the door.

At five minutes past ten, I left my office. Sure enough, the girls were gone.

I checked their drawers; their clothes were still there. Either they’d left the office completely naked, or they were hiding in one of our various storerooms and closets. Frankly, I didn’t care which it was.

“Where is everyone?” Tess asked at 10:25, characteristically early.

“They’re on-site with one of our clients,” I lied smoothly. “They have a major launch today, and we offered to have everyone there, just to make sure it goes as smoothly as possible.”

“Well,” Tess said with a smile, “I hope that I get that sort of service when the new app goes live.”

“Of course.”

“Fantastic,” she said, sitting down and crossing one pant-leg over the other. “Speaking of the app…”

I found it hard to concentrate during the meeting. Fortunately, Tess is the type who is more than happy to do enough talking for both of us.

I made sure to nod at all the appropriate times, but for the entirety of the meeting, I couldn’t help but glance out to the office, worried that I’d see a half-naked employee running past.

Finally, Tess began to run out of steam. She stood up and grasped my hand.

“It was a pleasure,” she said, not making eye contact.

“Thanks so much for coming in,” I said.

“Of course,” she said warmly. “You’re the boss.”


	Chapter 4

### 7:

At exactly noon, the girls returned. Clad only in heels and stockings, they walked past my office door, sat down at their computers, and resumed work.

None of us said anything; we each independently returned to work.

My train of thought was interrupted by Olivia knocking over the small tin of pencils that sits on her desk. The sound—especially in contrast to the completely-silent office—was deafening, and a flicker of annoyance must have crossed my face as I glanced out of my office to see what the noise was.

Brief as my expression was, however, Lisa caught it.

“I’m sorry, master,” she said, staring at me, a hungry look in her eyes. “She will be punished.”

“No!” I protested fruitlessly as Olivia bent over her desk in anticipation.

For almost twenty minutes, Lisa spanked her, until both girls were red-faced with exhaustion.

As I said, spanking is not something I’ve ever shown much interest in, and so I was starting to grow concerned. What if the girl did permanent damage?

For almost twenty minutes, I tried to ignore the rhythmic slapping, the pants of pain and arousal, the huffing sounds coming from outside my office. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Stop it,” I pleaded. “Lisa…just…”

“Mmm?” she asked, her head tilted to the side. I rolled my eyes.

“Just be _nice_ ,” I exclaimed, and immediately realized what I’d done.

“Of course, master.”

I threw my head back in despair, as Lisa stood up and pulled Olivia to face her.

“I’m sorry, darling.” she purred. “Do you think you can forgive me?”

“Of course, lovely.” Olivia replied softly.

“Thank you,” Lisa said. She moved her head forward, and pressed her lips to her co-workers.

All the while, Michelle had been softly tapping away at her computer, the only one in the office actually getting some work done. As her two colleagues began to make out, however, she turned to watch.

“Girls…”

“Thank you,” Olivia said, smiling at the newest addition to our team.

“Thank _you_.”

I pulled myself away from the sight of my employees ‘being nice’ to each other, and returned to my office, slamming the door. As I sat down at my desk, I could hear Michelle joining in.

“Thank you,” she said. The other two women mirrored the thanks back to her…and then there was silence.

### 8:

When I left my office that afternoon, the three of them were still passionately necking. Olivia’s hand was between Michelle’s legs; Lisa was caressing Michelle’s face with one hand, and groping Olivia’s tits with the other. Michelle’s arms were behind her, supporting her weight as she alternated making out with the other two women.

“Goodnight, ladies,” I said softly.

“Goodnight, master!” they chorused, then resumed exploring each others’ mouths with their tongues.

A few minutes after leaving, I doubled back and sneaked in the back exit. I was curious to see what the girls would do when I wasn’t around.

As I suspected, the three of them had disentangled. They were getting redressed as I lurked in our unused storeroom, able to see and hear the three of them without my presence being known.

“Thank you for today,” Michelle said, pulling on her skirt.

“Thank _you_.”

“Thank _you_.”

I rolled my eyes. They weren’t making out any more, but apparently my command to ‘be nice’ had really left an impact.

“What’s everyone up to tonight?”

“Just going home and getting some sleep,” Olivia responded.

“Me too,” Michelle added, and they both looked curiously at Lisa.

“I have a date,” she said, a coy smile on her face.

My eyebrows shot up almost as fast as Michelle’s.

“A _date_?”

“Yeah,” Lisa said casually, turning around so that Olivia could do up her bra. “I’m looking forward to it, actually.”

“First date?”

“That’s right,” Lisa said, flashing a grin at the other girls.

Michelle and Olivia shot each other a glance.

“Well,” Olivia said awkwardly. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Lisa said with a wink. “I won’t need it.”

### 9:

“Tess!”

When I’d walked into the office that morning, I’d paused in front of the girls’ desks. To my surprise, my presence hadn’t even been acknowledged.

_Good,_ I told myself. _Good. This is what I wanted._

Despite that, it took me a few moments to step away. I had grown oddly accustomed to the three girls standing at my presence, stripping off.

I didn’t miss it. Its absence was just…odd.

As I walked into my office, however, I realized why the girls were being so good.

Tess was waiting in my office, one hand on her hip. I almost jumped at the sight of her.

“Hi,” she said, throwing me a smile.

“Please, sit down.”

She immediately did.

“How can I help you, Tess?”

There was a pause before she replied, which was unusual.

“I just wanted to check in and see how everything was going,” she said coolly.

“Since…yesterday? Is something wrong?”

“You tell me.”

Tess was one of our biggest clients, and my mind began to race as to what could have caused her visit.

“I, uh…”

If we lost her business…well, I’d never run the numbers, but I knew it would be bad. What on earth could have happened in twenty-four hours?

“No? I mean, I don’t think…”

I trailed off. Tess leaned forward, raised one eyebrow, and stared me in the eyes.

Had…had she seen the girls? Where _had_ they been hiding during the meeting? Could…

To my surprise, Tess burst out laughing.

“Uh…”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, leaning back in her chair, folding her arms behind her head. “I just wanted to talk about what we discussed yesterday.”

“The new app?”

“No,” she said softly. “The other thing.

“ _Service_.”

The middle-aged woman rolled the word around her mouth, and I found myself getting hard.

Service had, of late, been on my mind quite a lot.

“We want to make sure the new launch goes smoothly,” she said. “I think we should check in more regularly.”

“Of course,” I responded immediately. “Do you use Slack? Because we could—…”

“I don’t have the time for that jazz,” she interrupted, waving me off. “No, it would probably be easier if I just dropped in more often.”

I furrowed my brow as I tried to parse her logic, but before I could say anything, she was marching out the door.

“I’ll check in regularly!” she shouted on the way out. “Looking forward to it!”

As she left, I sat back with a sigh.

Great. My staff had gone mad, and my biggest client was going to drop in regularly. I’d need Michelle to coordinate with her office, see if we could at least get some warning before she arrived.

And to top it off, I had a boner.

“Michelle!”

Almost as soon as the word had left my mouth, the busty woman was standing at my door, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Michelle, I need a hand with something.”

“Of _course_ , master.”

She smiled, and before I could say anything, she’d dropped to her knees in front of me.

“I’d be happy to help…”

“No!” I said forcefully, trying to back my chair away from her. “No! No, no, no, no…”

“It’s okay, master,” she said. “I can handle this for you.”

I was up against a wall. There was nowhere left to go, and if I kept on flailing, I ran the risk of kicking my longest-serving employee in the face. As she unzipped my trousers, Michelle had also—impressively, if I’m being honest—managed to unbutton her top.

It seemed that she’d forgone the bra today, and as she undid the last button, her large brown nipples popped into view.

“Michelle,” I protested weakly. “You don’t have to…”

“Of course not,” she smiled up at me. “I know I don’t. _Master_.”

A stronger man than I would have stopped her. A more forceful fellow would have prevented the middle-aged divorcee from fishing out his cock, from masterfully stroking it.

A better man wouldn’t have shut his eyes and enjoyed the hand-job.

And I’m sure that had I been more moral, I definitely wouldn’t have grunted with pleasure as the cum shot out of my dick, splashing onto Michelle’s face and exposed tits.

Sometimes, I wish I were a better man.

Today was not one of those days.

“Michelle,” I groaned, as she sat back, smiling through the cum that had plastered one of her eyes shut. “You don’t have to…”

I paused. What was even the point?

“Go clean yourself up,” I sighed.

“Of course, master.”

As Michelle’s skirt-clad butt swayed out of my office, I redid my pants.

God damn it.

### 10:

For the rest of the morning, my staff were actively obnoxious.

I don’t think they meant to be. I suspect they were just excited. But for the next three hours straight, I was inundated with clumsily-phrased “offers” to help.

“Need a hand?” Lisa said, poking her head around the corner.

“No, thank you,” I responded, before the look of disappointment on her face made me realize what she was _really_ offering.

“Let me grab that for you,” Olivia suggested as I walked towards the printer. I almost accepted, until I noticed where she was staring.

“ _No_ ,” I said, through gritted teeth.

“Please, master. I’d be happy to,” she followed up, her eyes not even flicking up to my face.

“Olivia…” I said, warningly, but she didn’t even seem to notice.

“Want another?” Michelle asked, as I swallowed the last of my coffee. By now, I was on high alert, and didn’t even bother responding.

“It’s no trouble,” she added.

“I would like a coffee,” I responded, speaking slowly and deliberately.

The disappointment on her face was painful just to look at.

It continued like that until lunch. I was tempted to tell them to be nice to each other again, just to shut them up, but Tess’s visit had me nervous, and I didn’t want to lose anymore time that could be spent working on her new app.

Plus, who knew how they’d interpret the instruction? Perhaps they’d uniformly decide that the best way to be nice to each other was to spend the afternoon giving me head.

Y’know. As a team.

By lunchtime, I was ready to slap one of them. Of course, since I’d never been one to slap a woman, it probably followed that they’d _love_ it, and then I’d likely spend the afternoon fending off their willing, waiting cheeks.

As I made my way to the fridge to collect my sandwich, however, I noticed that one of the women was missing.

“Where’s Lisa?”

Olivia and Michelle glanced at each other nervously.

“On a date,” Olivia finally said, and glanced to see my reaction.

Another date?

It didn’t make any sense—she wasn’t at all my type, not to mention the fact that she was…y’know, my employee—but an odd tinge of jealousy hit me.

“Who with?”

Again, the nervous glance.

“I don’t know,” Michelle replied.

“Someone new.”

“Huh.”

Olivia stood up, and as she passed Lisa’s desk, the phone rang. Without thinking what I was saying…I waved at it.

“Can you take care of that?”

“Yes _sir_ ,” Michelle said, standing up enthusiastically.

“No!”

I glanced to the left and right, not sure how they could possibly have interpreted my request. I quickly backed into my office, but Michelle wasn’t heading towards me.

She marched towards Olivia, then pushed her down onto Michelle’s desk.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” she said, fire in her eyes. Michelle just nodded passionately in response.

From the doorway to my office, I watched the two women shuck their clothing. They got naked faster than I’d ever seen anyone get naked.

“Please,” Michelle begged, and the two of them kissed.

“The phone’s still ringing,” I noted, but they ignored me.

With a sigh, I returned to my office. The phone eventually rang out, the absence of its shrill tone allowing me to hear the soft panting of my two employees.


End file.
