(Thanks to Missydotnet for helping with some basic editing on my first piece here!)


There is always tension in an office. The cubicles, the sweat, the pounding of keys and the desperation of the nine to five set. Dagny could have easily escaped it. It was cooler and brighter in her office, with the light streaming into the open room, not filtered and stale like in those tiny white-collar cells. These were her drones, not her people. She was the elite, the crème de la crème, the CEO and the Lord God to these people. She could feel the sweat pour off the stiff-suited men and lipsticked women as she walked past their cubicles.

Dagny loved to walk past the workers. There was something about the fear and weakness that gave her a rush of adrenaline. Even so, they disgusted her. They were just all so pathetic. They had never had huge contracts that hinged on them, didn’t dine on five star meals daily, never managed millions of dollars, never fired a man twice their age and worth twice the assets. They would live and die like this. She wouldn’t.

She stopped at the entrance of a cubicle. She had no idea what the name plate said, or what position it was for. It was lowly, clerical, and something that had more managers between Dagny’s position and it than she could imagine.

It was the person inside the cubicle that interested her. A homely looking girl, bent over a stack of papers, large horn-rim glasses sliding off her nose frequently and needing to be pushed back up. Her clothing was the lowest end of women’s professional wear that you could get. Polyester with weak shoulders and a blouse far too clingy for anyone to respect. Dagny entered the cubicle and coughed.

The mousey girl looked up in fear, “Oh! Ms. Freeman! W-w-what can I do for you?” The girl stood quickly.

Dagny looked disdainfully at her. “Tell me, is it common practice for young ladies in this office to neglect to wear shoes at work?” The girl blanched.

“I’m so sorry ma’am! They were just off for a moment, it’s been a long day for me.” She went on all fours to retrieve them from under the desk. Her black nyloned ass poked out of her pencil skirt, Dagny had an enviable view of a superb heart-shaped ass and the perfect preview of pussy. She didn’t get where she was now by passing up opportunities.

Dagny stepped forward, landing her glossy spiked heel square on the girl’s spine, sprawling her on the floor face down. The girl squealed at the sudden pain. Dagny swore she could feel the little thing’s heart pulse faster through her black stilettos.

Several times the girl tried to rise and several more Dagny shoved her spike forcefully into her spine. When she let up, she left a perfect filthy print of her pumps on the girl’s shirt with a small drop of blood at the heel. The girl whimpered like a beaten dog.

“Tsk tsk. What manner of training did you receive, child? I’m certain they didn’t teach you to flash your ass at ME, of all people.” In a choked tone on the edge of crying, the girl blurted out an apology unintelligibly. “No, no. If you want to get a promotion so badly you’d expose yourself…”

Dagny sat on the girl’s back, lifting her head by her messy bun. She curled one hand around the girl’s throat while the other one dove suddenly down the front of her blouse. Dagny bent her head down to the girl’s ear, and as the CEO twisted a nipple in her hand, she softly said, “If you ever want a job in the corporate world again little one, I wouldn’t do anything to my displeasure.” She bit the miserable girl’s ear, drawing both blood and tears from her employee.

The blouse ripped cheaply as Dagny’s hand explored the girl’s breasts. They were full and large, but soft. A very feminine attribute that contrasted with the girl’s plain and almost masculine face. Dagny could feel herself get wet. She was astride the girl like a hobby horse, and so she was sure the girl could feel it.

Dagny ground the girl’s face into the coffee-stained office floor as she reached over the girl for the neglected heels. Just as cheap as the rest of her outfit. “Well these are no good!” Dagny exclaimed, “How worn and pathetic these shoes are. You can’t go slutting around for a promotion in these! Maybe you should try my shoes on.”

Dagny stood up, dragging the girl up with her by the hair, squealing like a stuck pig. Other employees heard them, of course, but they kept their eyes on their work and ignored the cries of the young girl. Whatever was going on they decided it wasn’t worth their sad careers. None of them would report this, afraid that Dagny would make their lives hell. She had done it before, without hesitation.

She bent the girl over the desk, shaking the walls of the cubicle. Breathing frantically, the girl was almost in hysterics. Dagny paused to wallow in the anxiety before reaching down to slip off her own heel. Her hand slipped up the girl’s perfectly round ass, before slowly rolling down her nylons and panties to mid-thigh.

Dagny ran the long edge of the heel spike across the girl’s slit, surprisingly wet and dripping down her thighs. Unable to restrain herself, Dagny let out a lustful and predatory groan. The girl sobbed and turned her head, and Dagny could see her profile. Her face was crimson in embarrassment, her eyes closed, as if that could block out this humiliation.

“Try a real woman’s shoe on, bitch!” Dagny snarled. She shoved the girl hard into the desk, and in one thrust the heel of Dagny’s shoe disappeared up her ass. A scream pierced the office. One that everyone must have heard.

Dagny’s hand on back of her head kept the girl on the desk as she tried to jerk up and escape the pain. The other hand ground the heel even harder into the tight hole. Dagny laughed wickedly. She left the heel dangling out cruelly, and used her other hand to insert three fingers roughly into the girl’s still wet slit.

She pumped hard, while her own crotch pressed the heel even deeper into the ass bent over in front of her. The girl was crying, but around the sobs were pants of lust.

“If you like getting fucked so much, maybe I should just demote you to janitor. I pay you, come for me whore.” The girl did. She arched her back and screamed not in pain, but with desire, as her ass quivered against Dagny.

Dagny ripped out the heel, drawing some blood, and stepped away. The girl sank to the floor on her knees, unable to stand. Curling into a fetal position she shuddered non-stop, her nylons still around her thighs and her skirt pulled up to her waist. Dagny stood over her, watching her employee like a vulture.

“Fucking whore.” She spat out. Eager to make a miserable thing even more pathetic, she grabbed a plastic cup of cold coffee, unspilled on the desk, and tipped it over the girl on the ground. The coffee plastered the hair to her face, making her look like a drowned rat. The girl lay there, giving no response.

Turning to face the rest of the office, Dagny barked, “Give this girl a promotion!” Dagny turned and left the cubicle, marching briskly, uncaring about the wet, sobbing, quivering mess she left behind. It was good to be the boss.

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March 2018
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