Page 27 of Force Me To Obey


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About the subbie he’d mastered at the house in front of me? My concerns for her were quickly over once his attention returned to me. I was still his, and the girl had gone back to whomever owned her, just as I returned to Preston.

On the other hand, I was not so gracious about the other woman—Susan. Though she disappeared the day I stormed Preston

’s office demanding answers, she returned several weeks later, using the same feminine wiles to lure men, having the same effect on Preston that she’d had before.

I hated her, and curiously, she seemed to despise me as well. Had Preston told her about us, what I meant to him? Good lord, I hoped not! I couldn’t imagine he would—I trusted our secret, even if there were others in the building now privy to our sexual game. The way she treated me suggested that she knew a whole lot more about me than I did about her, and I didn’t like that.

Susan had a swagger when she walked, and a pair of hips that swayed luridly before any man, sensuously, wantonly, luridly—hips not a whole lot different than mine, when I’m in the mood to attract attention. As she strutted about the office in her coy display, the eyes of the men would light with interest. A little flirtatious twinkle followed when she snickered at them, or sidled up to them rubbing her breasts into their sides, while feigning to need their opinion on some business matter. The second time she ruined our office protocol with her blatant exhibition, I learned she was from the London office. Yes, there was a bit of a British accent to her speech; it made her haughty, condescending and smug—an uppity woman the way she used the affectation. She was everything I hated about women on the prowl. The fact that she especially clung to Preston only made me despise her more.

I became suspicious of her plans for him as soon as I saw her in the office, smoozing her way from man to man. She was working on a new ad campaign and needed the input of the partners in the agency, Preston’s input, even though that was not his expertise. As soon as she wriggled in next to him, I wanted to spit in her face. That being unfeasible, my free time was spent finding ways of embarrassing her in front of everyone, most especially Preston.

The more I saw her seductively entangled with the man I wanted, the more desperate I became to even out her advantage over me. Being sexually submissive to a man may jumpstart my sexual engines and make them hum, but in any other matter, and especially this one, my submission was impractical, stupid, and just not my style.

When I spilled honey and tea on Susan’s conference room chair, it was a completely reckless, totally juvenile move. I’d confess that later. But it was the first opportunity I had to get revenge, and I acted impulsively. I had been beside myself for days, green with envy and torn by my suspicions. Preston hadn’t shown up at my apartment for a late night screw in nearly a week and I was frantic for his attention. Anything. Anything at all to show he still cared for me. While I waited for his attention, I imagined him screwing Susan in the cunt nightly, while I languished in bed, afraid to come on my own against his orders. Even more, I was afraid that the night I didn’t keep my promise, he’d show up in my room and know instantly that I disobeyed his orders.

He knew I couldn’t lie to him and so did I.

So… the tea and honey got accidentally spilled on Susan’s chair, and accidentally not cleaned up before she parked her cute little behind in the middle of the mess. I was standing like a dutiful subject at the side of the room watching. She’d been on a verbal roll, teasing and playing with the partners and agents as if they were puppets and she was tugging their strings. I imagined that it was squishy and warm when the honey and dark tea oozed through the fabric of her winter white gabardine skirt, forcing a stain in the cloth that couldn’t be dry-cleaned, couldn’t be washed, couldn’t be swabbed, sponged or wiped away. I watched her bright eyes grow dull and red lipstick smile suddenly vanished. She turned white as a sheet just before she blushed bright red.

“Shit!” she seethed under her breath, as her anger quickly surfaced. She jumped from her seat and looked down at the goop on her chair, realizing only too late that the entire room had a bird’s eye view of her wet behind and the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties. Enough water had soaked through the white skirt to outline her ass and the crack down the middle. She jumped back around when she saw every eye staring her way. “What the hell? Someone spilled on my chair!”

The meeting adjourned immediately as the red-faced Susan fled to the ladies room. On the way, she barked orders to two secretaries to get her fresh clothes. Later she slunk into her office where she remained out of sight until she could appear again, poised and perfectly groomed in a navy blue suit. The offending chair was hoisted from the room and set in the hallway, tagged with a “Do Not Sit On This Chair” sign, until a maintenance worker could be found to clean the seat.

After the initial moments of horror and instantaneous panic, I retreated to my cubicle to bask in my tiny glory. Of course, I worried that I’d be found out, but that didn’t spare me the jubilation of my successful revenge.

I’m not sure what came over me that day—too much raw power, I suppose. Raw power fueled by jealousy—a dangerous combination.

When I ventured into the outer office that afternoon to pass out a report I’d prepared, no mention was made of the morning incident, and Susan, for once, kept to herself. It seemed I’d avoided suspicion, a fact that only made me more jubilant. At day’s end, I had one last task left, which took me back to the computer room for a visit with Roddy.

“I understand there were some fireworks upstairs this morning?” he opened the conversation with a sly grin.

“Oh, it was a dandy!”

“You there?”

“Right in the room.”

“Did they figure out what happened? I mean who set her up?”

I hesitated only briefly. I would have loved to tell him the truth, but I didn’t trust anyone with the facts. “Set her up? I think it was just an accident.”

“Naw, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, like he knew something that I didn’t.

“And who’s saying it was deliberate?” I inquired, being a little nervous and trying not to show it.

He shrugged. “Just feels deliberate. Pretty woman like her… an office full of secretaries who’d probably like to claw her eyes out… only makes sense, someone was taking advantage of the situation.”

“Humm, maybe so. I never thought about it that way,” I lied. If Roddy could figure out the truth so easily, then everyone else in the office could too. I certainly had hoped it wasn’t so obvious.

“So, you up for some fun?” his voice lowered in a propositioning sort of way. Then he sidled up beside me, intent on turning our exchange into something more personal. At the touch of his hand, a leisurely sensation of lust strolled down my back. I jumped; then my shoulders clenched and I pulled away.

“I know you kinda soured on me a while back. Did I do something wrong?” He moved toward me as I inched back a step or two. He’d have me cornered shortly, if we kept this up.“No,” I shook my head nervously, “nothing’s wrong at all. The sex was fun, I just…” I had to make up something fast. “I just had to ends things. Another guy…”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“And is he still around?”

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