Yes, Boss

This li'l femdom scene has been very loud in my brain today! This is a little outside my usual wheelhouse and likely a one-shot, but I had a good time with it and hope you enjoy reading it. 

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He couldn’t believe he was here, sitting on the floor of his boss’ office while she touched him in ways that he had quite literally dreamed about. He felt like a dog who had spent months rolling onto his back and hoping for belly rubs and was finally getting them.

“I can’t fuck you,” she told him, her voice a low purr. “I’m your boss.” She ran her hands through his hair and he sighed and leaned back against the couch, turning his head so that his forehead was resting against her knee. Her nails scratched gently against his scalp and his whole body tingled in response.

“So unfair…” he whined.

“It is unfair. You’re so pretty, I could just eat you up right now.” Her hands drifted downwards, one running down the back of his neck, below the collar of his shirt, nails grazing against his back and spine. “But I could never fuck a subordinate. It wouldn’t be right, would it?” Her other hand unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt and slipped inside. Her fingertips rasped over the lace bralette he was wearing and he blushed. His pretty undergarments were supposed to be his fun, sexy little secret at the office, but now she knew. “This is nice…” she murmured, more to herself than him. He felt himself getting wet. He felt a thrill knowing that she not only knew he sometimes wore lingerie under his boring work clothes, but also that she liked it. She snapped the bralette’s strap against his skin, just hard enough to make him hiss a little, and his cock went hard almost immediately.

“N-no, I guess it wouldn’t be right,” he answered.

Her hand slipped beneath the bralette, fingertips tracing around his nipple. His breathing caught in his throat. Knowing that she was doing this all without even planning on fucking him was torture, and he adored her for it.

“You’re wondering how you could make it happen, aren’t you?” Her hand slid up, the friction of her palm against his chest enough to force a little moan out of his lips. He could only nod. He could barely think. Both her hands moved up again, hands resting on either side of his neck, her thumbnails tracing along the base of his skull. She rested her chin on the crown of his head. “I love a man who can’t help but think with his dick.” He felt a throb between his legs. “You need to work harder.”

“I’ll do anything!” he insisted, and he meant it. If she asked him to walk across hot coals to prove his loyalty, or do something embarrassing in public to prove his shamelessness, he would do it.

“Thankfully, it’s pretty easy.” One of her hands was tracing along his face now–a fingertip tracing the profile of his nose, then just on the edges of his lips. “You just need to get promoted.”

The unintelligible noise that burst from him made her laugh.

“Didn’t expect this to come with a side of career coaching, did you? Never let it be said that I don’t have my reports’ best interests in mind.” She rubbed his shoulders, and he still couldn’t reply. “Though, I have to say, having a direct report so eager to be mentored is… refreshing.” Her tone was just a little wolfish, like he was a beverage she was about to suck down.

God, he wanted that so badly.

“I’m still so new. A promotion will take–”

“Time? Strategy? Working smart and hard? Getting to know the right people and making sure they see your worth?” Her hands were back on his scalp, massaging and turning him into putty, ready to melt into the floor. “Of course. But I know you can do it. And I’m happy to support you.” She gripped his hair and tilted his head back so he was looking up into her eyes. “I know you won’t let me down, Stephen. Nod to show you understand.” He nodded, mesmerized by her face; she didn’t loosen the hold she had on his hair, so with every bob of his head he could feel the gentle pull at his scalp. “Good boy.” She let his hair go and he let his head fall forward again. “Now go on–I still have work to do, and you need to head home; it’s already dark out. No sense in having you stay late at work without a purpose. We work smart in this department, and I won’t have my team burning out because they can’t properly manage their work hours.”

He stood up, legs slightly wobbly, and buttoned his shirt before heading to the door. She stood from the couch in her office and went to her desk. “Thank you for the, um… mentoring,” he said, still flustered and struggling to find his words.

She was already typing away, face bathed in the blue light of her computer screen. “Happy to help, Stephen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He lingered in the doorway for a moment, waiting to see if there would be anything else. There wasn’t, so he wished her good night and headed to his cubicle to collect his things before he walked to catch his train.