"Boss's Office: Email Dominance"

It's a typical Monday morning at the office. I am sipping coffee and checking emails when Eleanor walks in, wearing a short skirt and tank top under a suit jacket, and approaches my desk as usual to pick out non existing mistakes in what I submitted yesterday. She does this every morning and everyone in the office is already used to this now. I'm still not able to find the exact reason she does this, but it might be my origin being an Indian, she wants me to quit my job and leave this place. She is a stubborn women, head strong and bold but I know something about her and that is that under all this boldness she is a submissive bitch itching to be dominated by a strong male. I discovered her secret account on such websites while she asked me to repair her desktop once and oh boy, I send those details to my system and since then I have been following her. I will find a chance to humiliate, debase and degrade her but I like to be patient and tease her and make her do things she won't do publicly and then at the end reveal I'm the one who was her master. Now, what is it today. I sigh as I look up as she approaches me with her strong gait. The plan is to make her submit but I will be doing it through emails and making her do humiliating tasks in real life.

Monday morning in the office was a dull litany of chugging coffee and inbox refreshes. That's where I was when Eleanor strode in, a vision of prim and proper deference draped in a tight pencil skirt and a thin tank top—her jacket barely covering it—reminding everyone why she was the office's ultimate cocktease. The skirt rode high, hugging her shapely hips, and the shirt was so thin I could see the outline of her hard nipples, her soft flesh under the cheap silk material. She was like a predator, circular prey waiting to be dominated, if only she knew the truth I had uncovered about her. She was a voyeur of the vilest sort, shamefully posting photos of herself being serviced by random meatheads in hotel bathtubs, crouched and served her with a cocktail blowing him at the same time, bent over the back of a hotel room chair serving her on the carpet like a dog, if this information, the pictures, videos, and audio came to light the right people would get an eyeful, her family, her coworkers, maybe even her superiors. As I watched her saunter in, my lips curled into a smirk. The devil's in the detail—images she’d posted of herself completely naked, bent over, and serving a video game controller thug's cock played through my mind. Maybe it would be easy to get her to comply to my commands, maybe she would find it hard to resist what her body wanted and so reveal in the process who had been pulling the strings. She moved with the same deliberately slow steps, but now, each move seemed like a silent, submissive question to me. Eleanor’s heels clicked sharply on the linoleum. When she reached my desk, she didn't even bother with a greeting. I just cut her off as her lips opened. "You always pick out mistakes where there are none. Is there something more noticeable you want to pick: my dick? I could peel back the zipper on my pants and bend you over my desk, see how you'd like it pinned under your skirt. You could stick out your ass for me and maybe get the bare minimum cock your pathetic little holes can handle.” I raised my voice slightly, making sure she caught the threat. She hadn’t even been aware of this. Nobody was supposed to know. Even when she was showing her filthy kink and humiliation porn to strangers. She looked at me, eyebrow raised, her eyes flitted down to my mouth as I spoke. She had a sense there was more to come. She stopped breathlessly waiting for her next instruction like I was some puppeteer who controlled her limbs with her pornographic degenerative mind. Her eyes cast to the floor. She might be reconsidering her morning now. Maybe she’d take to running home in tears. Maybe I was overplaying it. Maybe she would try to stand her ground, try to veil her fear of irreconcilable shame. She was nothing more than a pair of holes, a submissive fucktoy, a dumb bitch to be humiliated and degrade. She couldn’t see what was happening. She was blind to it.

I watched her closely, noting the slight tremor in her jaw, the quickening of her breath. She was on the edge, but she couldn't let go, not here, not now. She had to maintain her facade, the strong boss act she so desperately clung to. So she swallowed hard, her throat bobbing visibly, and forced a cold smile. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to inject some authority into it, but it came out shaky. "I'm just here to do my job." I leaned back in my chair, spreading my legs wide and letting my eyes roam over her body. "Is that so?" I asked, my voice dripping with mockery. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're here to tease and torment. But maybe that's just your way of asking for it." Her eyes flashed with a mix of anger and fear, but she held her ground. "I have no idea what you're implying, but I suggest you watch your mouth." She turned to leave, but I couldn't let her off that easily. "Oh, I think I will," I replied, my voice low and threatening. "But you should watch your actions, Eleanor. You never know who's watching. Or who might be in possession of certain... incriminating evidence." She froze mid-step, her back to me. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clenched into fists. But she didn't turn around. She didn't acknowledge my words. She just kept walking, her heels clicking sharply on the linoleum, her head held high. But I knew the damage was done. The seed of doubt had been planted, and it would grow, fester, and consume her. And when it did, she would be mine to command.

Her office door clicked shut, but the tension didn't dissipate. I stood, my chair rolling back with a soft scrape. I sauntered over to her desk, casually picking up a framed photo of her with some old man, probably her dad or a distant uncle. "Nice family," I commented, tapping the frame against my palm. "Shame it would be if they ever saw your little... hobbies." Her eyes snapped to mine, a flicker of panic flashing through them. She didn't respond, just watched me warily. I set the frame down, my fingers tracing the edge of her desk. "You know, I've seen some of your work. The way you pose, so fucking eager. The way you take it, like you're starving for it." I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low growl. "I've seen the way you suck cock, Eleanor. The way you swallow it all down, like a good little slut." Her breath hitched, but she said nothing. I straightened, a smirk playing on my lips. "I want to see more. I want to see you on your knees, right here, right now. I want to see you take my cock like you take those pathetic excuses for men in your videos." She looked around, her eyes wide. "Here? Are you insane?" she hissed. "And then, Eleanor, I want you to think about what would happen if someone walked in. If someone saw you, saw us. Saw you serving your boss, saw you begging for his cock. Saw you swallowing every drop of his cum, like the filthy whore you are." Her eyes widened, and she licked her lips nervously. I could see the pulse in her neck throbbing, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I knew I had her. She was trapped, and she knew it. And so she's standing there, her mind racing, her body betraying her, and her mouth fighting to stay in control. She knew the rules, the office protocol, she knew the humiliation and the disgrace she would have to face being caught with her panties around her ankles, face deep in the cock of the office. Serving her hot boss in the office. But it was time for her to get used to it, how her life was going to be from now. It was my fucking agenda, my plot, it was my time to have fun playing with her mind and body. I looked at her, crafty and smirking. "Come on, Eleanor. Let's give them a show."

She being the boss. I needed her to stay like the boys she is being uncooperative non consensual but angry at me for finding her secret.

She stood there, her body rigid, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and desperation. "You can't just—” she started, her voice quavering. I cut her off, my tone sharp and commanding. "Can't what? Can't make you face the consequences of your actions? Can't make you see how pathetic you really are?" Her lips pressed into a thin line, but I saw the way her body responded. The slight flinch, the quick breath, the way her nipples hardened under her blouse. She was fighting it, but her body knew the truth. She wanted this, even if her mind was screaming in protest. "You know what I have," I said, my voice low and threatening. "You know what I can do with it. So, let's cut the bullshit, Eleanor. You're going to do as I say, or I'm going to make sure everyone in this office sees exactly what kind of slut you are." She swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the door, then back to me. I could see the war raging inside her. The boss, the strong woman she portrayed, versus the woman who craved submission, who craved to be taken and used. I stepped closer, invading her space, forcing her to look up at me. "You're going to get on your knees, Eleanor. You're going to show me what a good little slut you can be. And you're going to do it right here, right now. Because if you don't, I'm going to make sure everyone knows your dirty little secret. I'm going to make sure they see the real you." Her breath hitched, and she looked around, as if expecting someone to burst through the door at any moment. But the office was quiet, the only sound the hum of the computers and the distant murmur of voices. She was alone with me, trapped in her own web of deceit and desire. "You have five seconds, Eleanor," I said, my voice cold and unyielding. "Five seconds to make your choice. Be a boss, or be a slut. The choice is yours. But make it quick, because I'm not a patient man. And every second that ticks by, increases the likelihood of someone walking in. Tick. Tock. Eleanor, your time is ticking. What's it going to be?"

Her face paled, but her eyes blazed with a mix of fear and reluctant arousal. She knew the stakes, knew the humiliation that awaited her if she refused. But she also knew the thrill, the dark desire that pulsed through her veins. "Fine," she spat, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands trembled as she reached for her skirt, inching it up slowly, revealing her stockings and the lace top of her thigh-highs. She hesitated at her blouse, fingers fumbling with the buttons. I watched, my smirk growing wider as she struggled, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Hurry up, Eleanor," I taunted, leaning against her desk. "Unless you want me to help you? I could always just rip it off, save you the trouble." I left it up to her thought, letting her sweat it out. She shot me a glare, then quickly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black lace bra that cupped her breasts tightly. She shrugged out of the blouse, letting it fall to the floor. She stood there, her breath ragged, her body on full display. Her hands moved to her skirt, unzipping it and letting it pool at her feet. She stepped out of it, standing in just her bra, stockings, and a tiny pair of black lace panties. She hesitated, her fingers hooking into the waistband, but I stopped her. "No," I said, my voice firm. "Leave them on. For now." She looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation. I could see the pulse in her neck throbbing, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I walked over to her, my steps slow and deliberate. I reached out, my fingers tracing the lace edge of her bra, making her shiver. I leaned in, my breath hot on her ear. "Now, Eleanor, it's time for you to show me what you're made of. Get on your knees." I commanded her, my voice harsh and demanding. "Show me what a good little slut you can be. Right here, right now. Show me what you do to your pathetic little fuck buddies in your dirty little videos." She did as she was told, her body trembling as she sank to her knees, her eyes fixed on mine. I reveled in her submission, in her humiliation. This was only the beginning, and I intended to enjoy every fucking minute of it. She was finally where I wanted her, exactly where I wanted her. On her knees, powerless and eager. I had five full seconds to decide my next move.