(This is my first ever story, so apologies if it's awful. If you did like it, though, please leave a comment..!)

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I gulped slightly as I knocked on the door of the manager's office. It had only been a week since I'd started this new job, and as far as I was aware, official meetings to discuss employee performance were not standard.

*"Come in."*

Her stern voice sounded from inside the office. I hadn't heard it around the workplace very much since I had been here - she seemed to keep herself to herself, inside her own room, and I had been mentored into my role by one of her subordinates.

I took a deep breath, turned the doorknob, and entered the room. In front of me, perched on a leather office chair and behind a swanky, glass-topped desk, sat Ms Smith, the manager. She said nothing for a moment, almost implying that I should take a moment to examine her, which I did. She looked to be in her late thirties, but still held a very tight figure. Her hair was tied back into a strict bun, with no decorative hair buns or accessories. She wore some makeup, and a little glossy red lipstick sat on her pursed lips.

The slightly awkward silence continued, and I found my eyes glancing downwards, taking in her prim blouse, unbuttoned at the collar to reveal a glance of her sizable breasts. Through the transparent table, I could also see that she wore a pencil skirt, white fronted and black around the sides of the hips, giving off a bold, brutalist look.

*"Well? What are you waiting for? Stop idling and come on inside."*

Apparently satisfied that I'd seen enough, her voice pierced the silence, jolting me out of a slight daze. I fumbled to close the door, and walked forward towards the desk.

It was at this moment, I realized that there was no chair for me. For a moment, I stood opposite her. She didn't stand up to greet me, nor did she make any indication of locating a chair for me. Instead, she took her turn looking me up and down, whist I shuffled my feet and coughed slightly, masking my nervous face with my hand.

*"Down!"*

I looked at her, quizzically -

*"Down!"*

I looked at -

*"DOWN!"*

Slightly panicked, I lowered myself onto my knees, slightly scuffing my shoes in the process. I don't know why I followed her command so readily - she had the voice of a schoolteacher, stern to the point of being hypnotic. As soon as I was on my knees I felt ridiculous at having obeyed, but at the same time I was scared to stand back up again. From my kneeling position, my head was barely higher than the desk top, and I could see her primly gazing down her nose at me.

*"Do you know why I've called you in here today?"*

I shook my head silently.

*"SPEAK!"* she yelled.

*"Oh, um ah, no no I don't know, no."* I hurriedly mumbled.

*"I called you in today because I have been hearing reports from my minions that you have been underperforming. What do you have to say about this?"*

*"Well I -"*

*"If there's one thing I **hate**, boy, it's slackers.* she cut me off before I could justify myself, *"and do you know what slackers get?"*

*"FIIIRED!"* she yelled downwards, into my face, again before I could speak. I winced and jumped at the sudden noise and the sight of her ruddy face snarling across my vision. *"But, from your interview notes, you look like a promising individual, so I have alternate plans for you. Tie."*

She held out her hand. Again, I sat there bemused as my brain tried to work out what she expected of me. She made sure her commands were always one step ahead of my thoughts, so I had no time to process the situation in my mind.

*"Give me your tie."*

They were also so blunt. And yet so sharp. I mused over this strange quirk of language, hardly even noticing myself as I absentmindedly undid my tie and handed it over to her.

*"Hands... HANDS!"*

Again, I snapped back to focus as she snapped her next demand of me. I held both of my arms outstretched, wondering what this was all about. Without missing a beat, she calmly started wrapping my tie around my forearms, looping it around both arms, and then each arm individually.

For the first time since entering the room I felt truly uncomfortable - obviously, I had never felt at ease for one moment but it was at this point where I suddenly recognized just how weird and wrong this situation was. The shouting could just be put down to her trying to frighten her new employees, and the kneeling... well... that *was* weird, but maybe it was just how things were done in this building.

But binding my arms together? Something was definitely off about this situation. And yet, somehow I continued to let it go on, without even so much as struggling. Maybe it was that her dominating mannerisms never offered any chance for me to disobey her. That, even as a fellow adult, I was so cowed by her presence that I wouldn't dream of breaking her rules.

Partly that. But part of me had begun to... not exactly *enjoy* it, but the novelty and impropriety of the situation combined with the completely mechanical and involuntary role I played in it was comparable to the thrill of riding a roller coaster. The very fact that I was feeling so uneasy and tense reinforced a more powerful, subconscious desire for the strange affair to continue.

She wrapped the tie around my arms until it was almost all spent, and then with no sort of feminine delicacy, yanked harshly at the ends, pulling my arms together tightly. The recovered length of tie she used to stay the tie with a tight reef knot.

*"There we go. Now, be a good boy and put your arms between your legs."* She said, in a much more guiding, soft tone.

*"What? I don't get it."*

*"What's so difficult to understand, you fuckwit? Put your arms between your legs!."

Her aggressive tone was back in full force. I still didn't quite know what to do but I made a hasty guess and held my hands downwards, so that my elbows were close to my groin.

*"Now close your legs. Tightly."*

I complied, pushing my knees together so that my thighs enveloped my forearms and effectively trapped them in position. My back was also leant slightly forwards now, and hunched to allow my bound arms to reach the floor.

This seemed to satisfy her, as a smirk appeared briefly on her pursed face. She stood up out of her chair, and dragged the glass desk backwards a couple feet, away from under my chin.

She then retreated her hands onto her stomach, and slowly, deliberately moved them down to her waist, caressing herself in front of me and rubbing her blouse with each upwards stroke so that the front gradually untucked from her skirt. Her hands then moved to the button clasp on her skirt, playfully toying with it, flicking it until by chance it fell through the buttonhole, loosening the top of her pencil skirt.

With more measured action, she ran her thumbs around the waistband, easing it down her ample hips in a manner not unlike carefully prising a cake away from the edges of a cooking tin. Her blouse fell teasingly in front of her crotch, obscuring the view of what lay underneath. She seemed not to be paying much notice to me - she was careful not to give any hint that this charade was at all for my own pleasure.

After running her hands around her waist a few times, she finally grabbed the sides of her skirt and, still using slow movements, tugged it down a few inches, revealing her thick, white cotton knickers, with an image of a green clover sewn into the front, sitting snugly in between her broad, shaven thighs.

Only now did she make an indication that she was aware of my presence - although it was obvious that she had again intended for me to stare at her throughout.

*"Close your eyes and stop looking at my underwear, you pervert!"* she barked.

I blushed even harder than before, and clamped my eyes shut, bowing my head down to make it obvious that I wasn't going to peek again. I heard the sound of shuffling, and her skirt falling to the floor, a slight squeak from the casters of her chair, and then the dull clacking sound of her heels against the carpeted floor.

From the sounds, I gathered that she had walked around the desk and behind me. She confirmed my theory by brushing one hand along my shirt's shoulder, and then placing both hands gently down either side of my head.

*"Head up. Make sure you keep your dirty eyes shut."*

I un-bowed my head, pulling it up to being roughly level. I shivered slightly, unsure of what to expect next. I felt her hands leave my shoulders, and then I felt nothing but my own apprehension for a couple of seconds.

But then, I felt it. Rubbing up and down against my forehead, a silky fabric that could only have been her white knickers pressing against my skin. She could have been warm herself. She could have been wet herself. I could not tell. By this point I had broken out into a sweat and my ears were roaring hot from blushing so deeply.

Her rubbing got more intense, pushing my head backwards, squashing my nose into her cotton-y groin. She rubbed against a larger area, stroking my entire face with her pants. My lips sensed the fabric pushing past them and instinctively I licked my lips. The taste was salty, and I realized how much I could smell her sweaty odor forming a humid quilt around my head. Was this her way of showing a primal dominance over me, by rubbing her scent into my face? It certainly made me feel insignificant - a plaything for her to toy with.

I sensed her change position, and subsequently the back of my head received the same putrid treatment that had been done to my face moments before. My whole head stank, but it wasn't over yet. I felt her grinding backwards against my neck, pushing her buttocks up into my hair and tickling the tips of my ears with her organic pillow.

She returned to my face, but this time again with her backside, mashing my nose into the cotton valley of her crack. The knickers weren't soiled, but her grinding was so vigourous that I caught a slight, yet revolting whiff of her asshole.

And then she went back to her front, pressing her groin into my face but with even more force this time, using her hands to steady my head and push my face even further in. She started thrusting into me, almost bruising my nose with the pressure of her thick knickers steaming into my hot face and squeezing her thighs around my ears, clenching my head in this cage of putrid lust. I felt thoroughly revolted in myself and ashamed that I was allowing this woman who I had only just met to force herself on me and belittle me like this, but at the same time I craved more of her, gasping every time she removed the damp cloth of her pants from my face, but then sucking in her sweat every time she pounded me.

And this carried on for several minutes, until I wasn't sure when or if the ordeal would end. But finally, she stepped away from me and I heard her walking back to her side of the desk. Leaving me stinking of her sweat and breathless.

*"Alright, pervert. I've put my skirt back on, so I am quite decent."*

I opened my eyes, still panting, to see her standing over me. Her expression before might have been disapproving, but it was nothing compared with the disgusted glare she gave me now. Thoroughly humiliated, I began to get up.

*"Stop! You think we're done already, maggot?"*

I gulped and returned to a kneeling position. She walked around me, past me to the side of the room. I heard a fumbling noise and I realised with horror that she had opened the blinds. She pulled the glass desk halfway back into position, but not so it was under my chin.

*"Up! Onto your knees. Quickly!"*

I rose up onto my knees, so that my thighs were near vertical. She sat down on the edge of the glass table, legs slightly astride my head so that I rested in her lap. I looked expectantly up at my mistress, and her head appeared, peering down from over her breasts. For the first time, I saw her smile, but this only unsettled me further.

*"Pull down your pants."*

Seeing as my arms were bound, I stupidly hesitated, causing her to repeat the instruction, yelling right down into my face. I clumsily tried to undo the buckle on my belt, fumbling with it all the while she glared down at my reeking head. I could barely manage to pull my trousers down over my butt, and struggled in a similar fashion with my boxers. Finally my crotch was free of my clothes, and I could feel my throbbing dick standing rock hard out from my waist. She peeked down to the side, to check that I had completed her demand.

*"Now, pervert, start wanking."*

I stared at her, wide eyed for a split second, but realizing she was about to yell again, I clumsily grabbed my dick with both hands and started tugging. Since my arms were bound, my whole body rocked back and forth slightly every time I slid up and down my shaft. It wasn't a busy office, and there was not likely to be anyone else around at the time, but even so, now that the blinds were opened I felt the invisible force of a hundred pairs of eyes watching my shameful display.

She started to touch herself, too, although being clothed she suffered no humiliation. I felt her knuckles knock against my jaw through her skirt as she started pleasuring herself at my expense, whilst her other hand moved over her breasts underneath her blouse.

I felt very unwieldy using both hands bound to get myself off, but even so I climaxed fairly quickly, the burning shame turned me on so much that I lasted only a few minutes before coming all over my trousers, and felt my juice dribbling back down onto my hands. She noticed me come, and saw me gasping. She glanced down at my crotch and smirked at the sight of my cum covered clothes.

*"Alright, pervert. I think you've learned your lesson for now. Anyway, I only work half days today so it looks like it's time for me to go!"*