Subordinate Pt. 01
"Anna, ready for our meeting?"
"Yes, Daniel."
He walked towards the meeting room he had booked without so much as looking her way. She held back a sigh, not wanting anyone to think it was unusual. Truth was, they probably knew something was up. Anna had a proud reputation for being a ball breaker. Sexy, but in a bookish kind of way, her pleasant looks betrayed a level of bluntness and assertiveness that said: you don't want to mess with me. She got shit done and was respected for it; was typically liked once you got to know her, but she was an anomaly.
On the rare occasions she dressed up for work events or parties, she turned heads. With naturally straight brown hair, glasses, pointed cheekbones and dimples, she was striking. Add the tongue piercing, the deep intimidating blue eyes when she wasn't wearing glasses and her being 5'8 out of heels, she owned an aura of confidence. She had been subtly hit on by enough of the new men and women that had joined the team across the prior twelve years for her to know she was someone desired. The woman nobody there could get. They wouldn't even know what they'd be getting. Did she like men? For she never declared anyone handsome. Did she like women? Because she'd never been seen checking out any ass that looked as good as hers in a dress.
She stood up and used the movement to mask the sigh she couldn't stop, as she was forced to imagine she was a child walking towards a telling off. Before him, she was an animal walking towards its next scent of food.
Nobody looked up, everyone tapping away at their keyboards or on calls. Most people knew there'd be a sharp "yes?" if they did anyway.
The dynamic since Daniel had been parachuted in a year earlier had rocked her in more ways than she wanted to admit. Things had gone down shit street under their previous boss, eventually leading to her dismissal. Anna was so grateful to see her old boss gone, she let her guard down in relief that Daniel seemed immediately more competent, despite being younger than her 38 years and a good 15 years younger than the woman he was replacing. He steadied the ship and directed them all - they followed his steer and life steadied again.
For Anna though, it never really did.
The working relationship was now one where she basically did as she was told, though he gave her direction collaboratively, as though they had come to his decision together. She was the head of the customer insight team, him the now-permanent director after a very successful six months, by all accounts.
In group meetings, around her team, he looked to her for advice, pointedly so. She was one of three Heads who reported to him, and he gave them all the space to lead. All three of them were women, all there before his arrival. Still, she couldn't help but think he treated Emma and Raquel differently to her. Subtly different, but different, nonetheless.
She made her way into the room and zeroed her eyes onto the chair, striding towards it. Her long dress, the kind she always wore, brushed the new carpet the company had put down when Daniel had complained about working conditions.
He was in a suit, never wearing a tie, with the top button open and a fair amount of chest hair visible. She didn't need to look up at him to know that, and she had discreetly checked the colour of his shirt earlier on, building on a hunch that she had that might be paranoia but might also be reality.
"How goes it, Anna? Everything okay?"
She looked up at him, surprised. He was very structured, even more so than her. She quite liked that about him. He typically waited for her to settle and then he outlined the things he wanted to talk about and then he asked how she was. That was always the way. He was very clinical in his interactions with her.
"Yeah, why?" Her tone was accusatory, and she was used to a slight recoil from men who sat opposite her when she used that tone. He didn't move. She sometimes wondered if he didn't understand tone. But she had heard him when he was assertive and knew that couldn't be true.
"We'll try that again," Daniel replied, still unmoving. "Only this time you'll either decide to tell me what's on your mind or you'll say you're fine and you have no idea what I'm talking about."
"I'm fine, I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied in a very hammed-up robotic voice.
He laughed. "I watched Doctor Who as a kid, you do a good Dalek."
"Thanks," she smiled. "But I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
This time he did lean back and he surveyed her. She'd never worked with anyone who behaved as he did. Everything was always considered, even if it felt reactive and off-the-cuff. He held eye contact as he spoke, which itself was quite rare for her. Most men looked away or couldn't help looking down at her tits.
"You've booked a random Thursday off this week but you're back in on Friday. You missed the deadline I set you for the segmentation report yesterday, which is most unlike you," he outlined, watching her face fill with colour and her mouth hang open in horror, "you never miss a deadline. If you're interviewing for another job, at least give me the opportunity to counter-offer before you get swayed elsewhere."
"How do you know I'd even get the job?" No point denying she was in an interview process at that point. If he knew her, she knew him well too.
He nodded slightly, coming to terms with being right. "Because Anna, unless you come apart at interviews, which feels unlikely given the way you carry yourself, they'll quite quickly see you're relentless, technically excellent and the most capable person I've ever had the responsibility of managing."
"Thanks," her voice caught, "that's kind of you."
They stared at each other, and Anna felt the familiar confusion start to grow inside her as he looked at her and she looked at him. She was sure she was asexual or at best demisexual, which amounted to the same as she never let anyone get close enough for her to form an emotional connection.
"Do you want to make your offer?" She broke the spell because it seemed he wasn't going to.
"Yes," he smiled, seemingly back into his stride. "I've got nothing I need to talk about for the next hour that can't wait. Why don't you take the time back to get the report done and we can talk again on Thursday evening over some alcohol? You can tell me how the interview went as your colleague and dare I say friend, so we can help you organise your thoughts before you negotiate me into submission on Friday."
Anna nodded in agreement, rising from her chair a second after Daniel did, and then walking back into the open plan office through the door he was holding open and past the arm he was using to gesture her back towards her desk.
It was perhaps the best example yet of her doing as she was told, as though they'd come up with the plan together. Her head spun as he walked off and spoke to someone in her data team, and she was glad for the way her features naturally looked quite severe so that nobody would ask why she was out in 5 minutes.
_
When Thursday morning came around, Anna spent a disproportionate amount of time picking what to wear. She hadn't had an interview in over a decade, if you excluded internal promotions that were box-ticking exercises.
Realistically though, as she looked at herself in the long mirror of her bedroom, she was only ever going to wear one of the many long dresses she owned for work, when jeans and a jumper was too casual.
Not many people at work knew why she wore maxi dresses that went down to her ankles and stopped at her forearms. But then, not many people in the world had seen her naked. If people found her striking in looks, they'd need to find a stronger word for her body.
To her, it was her canvas. Her private place to create her own work of art. To decorate her body with the things that mattered or felt good.
She estimated that at least half of her body from the thighs upward and the elbows inward was covered in tattoos.
Flowers - a rose, a peony and a cherry blossom, adorned the back of her body from her thighs up to her shoulders. The rose ran up the length of her spine stopping at her neck. The peony covered her round ass, the cherry blossom encircled her lower back. Around that were tattoos of a lioness, a compass and the earth. Each meant different things at that point in her life. Intended to convey different things for different moments and remind her of who she was.
She had had her sternum tattooed before it became fashionable, stretched under her large breasts and pressed tight to the top of her defined abs. At the line of her groin, over her mound and below her belly button was a sprawling tattoo of the oak tree that her family dog was buried under and then the ashes of both her grandparents and her mum were scattered under, with light from the sun just threatening to break from the shadows.
When she was in her early twenties, sexual partners wouldn't believe that her breasts could be that big & full and not be fake. That her ass couldn't be that round against such a flat stomach without some kind of enhancements. She had quite liked the shock and awe at first, enjoyed the lust of it.
But it wore off and she spent the rest of her twenties covered up in long dresses that didn't show off her figure, to save the repetitive exchange.
Over time barely anybody saw her figure and her body became her own thing to enjoy. So the tattoos started and then piercings followed - on both her nipples, her sternum, her belly button and then onto her pussy itself until she stopped herself getting any more except her tongue, which she'd wanted from the start. She rowed back from wearing loose dresses, but they were loose enough to hide just how curvaceous she was and to stop her nipple piercings showing.
She had a total disinterest in sex, only occasionally sleeping with her tattoo artist when he'd done a particularly good job, and fucking her piercing artist when she had got her so aroused from the feel of the needle. She could have kept going for hours after the feel of the needle piercing her clit.
Whichever way she looked at it, she was a lot. The only people she had been intimate with had been the ones who had taken her body to another level.
So, that morning, a disproportionate amount of time was spent deciding what to wear and a further disproportionate amount of that time was spent thinking about whether Daniel would like it.
_
They'd offered her the job before she'd even got to the bar Daniel had picked, away from the area of work, later that evening.
Taking it was a no-brainer. It was a bigger company, more pay, better prospects (she was only getting promoted when Daniel left, let's face it) and an easy commute.
Despite that, her response had instead been a very appreciative "I'll think it over and get back to you as soon as possible."
She wanted to hear what Daniel would say and most of all, she wanted to be smug about it.
"I'm delighted for you," was the first thing he said after bringing over two pints of beer and finding out who it was that had offered her a job. Anna sipped her pint instead of replying, so she could buy some time. He carried on anyway. "I think I'm going to struggle to offer you anything that can beat that, but I'd be very interested to find out what it would be."
Surprising herself, she chose a most unusual response: "Well, buy me a few more of these and I'll be drunk enough to tell you."
Did she just invite him to get her drunk?
Daniel took it in his stride, seemingly unfazed and as though he hadn't interpreted her words in that way. She could think of about 30 other guys who wouldn't have been so respectful towards her.
They chatted about the interview in more depth, the role, the people on the panel. One beer became two which became another, with some fries.
"This is pretty surreal, you know," Anna cut-in while he chewed on the food. "I could have told Raquel or could have gone for drinks with any of my friends but here I am with you."
He studied her like he did in the office. "Why do you think that is then?"
"I dunno," she started, "I always seem to end up doing what you say." She immediately cringed as she said it, not realising how that sounded until it left her mouth.
He took a sip of some fancy Italian beer which she thought was too pretentious and then he replied, "You seem to find that a bad thing. Is it?"
"I just don't see you doing it to Raquel or Emma," she heard herself whine. "I don't know why you treat me differently."
"Because you're capable of it," he replied simply.
"Of being treated differently?" Derision had replaced whining. She almost snorted. "What does that even mean?"
He set down his glass and looked at her with intensity. "Do you want the truth, three pints in?"
"Yes," Anna replied at once.
"This doesn't come back to me at work, okay? This is me being honest with you privately. Do you promise?" He held out his glass, intending to use a cheers from her as the agreement.
"If it's not inappropriate then fine, I promise," she agreed, holding her glass out.
"It's not inappropriate," he assured her, "you may just find it uncomfortable to hear."
She shrugged, "life is full of uncomfortable truths. This is a mystery I want to solve."
"Fine," he sat up ready to talk. "I treat you differently because when I tell you to do something, you do as you're told, and you get it done."
"Well, yeah, I," Daniel held up a hand at Anna's interruption, so she fell silent and let him continue.
"If I tell them what to do, Emma or Raquel, they don't own the direction as theirs. They pitch it as something I want. Which is fine if that's true, but often I want them to own it just as much. So I collaborate with them to get there. With you, I know I just need to tell you what it is I want and you'll do it and you'll make it known you want it done too."
"Well yeah, you're the boss," Anna explained, struggling to hide her bemusement.
"You asked why I treat them differently, I'm explaining," Daniel defended, having another long swig of his drink. She watched him continue until it finished entirely, to her surprise. "Do you want to stay for another or go?"
"What do you want to do?" Anna's reply was automatic and went without her noticing, though she thought about it later and realised how telling it was.
"I want to stay," Daniel decided, looking at Anna. "But I want you to buy just me a drink, you're to get water for yourself."
"Okay," Anna replied slowly, thinking that she quite wanted another drink. "And what if I want another pint?"
She saw the sign of a smile and distantly, in some part of her brain that had been asleep for a long while, she liked it as much as she liked the baby blue shirt he always wore on the days they had a one to one.
"If you want another pint, you need to ask me if you can," he explained simply.
A few things happened quickly and consecutively in Anna's mind.
The first was the obvious: saying fuck you, which should have come straight out of her mouth, followed by a snort and maybe even a slap. The second was an unexpected pinch of arousal, like a needle touching her thalamus. The third, the thing that won out, was that she felt she'd quite like being given permission and having the responsibility taken away from her. The guilt would follow it out of her brain nicely.
Steeling herself with a deep breath, she asked in a way that felt unnervingly natural. "May I have another pint, please?"
He nodded, "yes, you may."
Waiting at the bar for the kind of slow service that a good customer insight manager would never allow, Anna reflected on how much she had liked the exchange. She was determined not to look back at him, but she felt his eyes, watching her do as he said.
Then there was the slight humiliation that came with being allowed to buy alcohol with her own money as though she wasn't in control. She waited for the bald, wannabee cool man behind the bar to turn to her so that she could get her boss his beer and perhaps excuse herself to the bathroom, when her thoughts were interrupted.
"Buy you a drink?"
It was a man older than Daniel, who supposedly wasn't even mid-thirties yet according to the rumour mill, looking quite cocky about his prospects with her. If this man was handsome, Daniel was the definition of average-looking, with brown hair, an average looking face and average height. If this man had seen them together, the striking woman and the average man, he must have assumed it wasn't romantically.
"Sorry, I'm here with my boyfriend," she lied, knowing full well he had seen them and they had not been giving off that vibe. "Two pints please," she ordered with the barman, who had mercifully arrived.
"I see," the man next to her replied, getting out his wallet. "Well, take my card anyway, in case you change your mind."
Anna turned to him, a jolt of anger running through her. "About what, sorry? I can assure you, Lawrence," she paused, looking at his name, "if I was to ever find my way into your bed, I'd spend the entire time thinking about him," she gestured back towards her table. Daniel was looking at her questioningly but she shook her head. The truth of it empowered her.
"Everything okay here?" The barman had returned.
She tapped her card on the reader and nodded. "Fine. Isn't it?" She looked at Lawrence fiercely, who nodded.
"What was that about?" Daniel asked as soon as she returned.
She was, she realised in hindsight, disproportionately annoyed at the situation because it had distracted her from her arousal, which was now such a rare feeling she may need to mark it down on the calendar. "Nothing, an idiot hitting on me."
"I see," she thought or hoped she saw a flicker of disappointment. "What did you say?"
"Was me calling him an idiot not enough?" She felt looser in his presence, like a bond was forming.
"Idiots could be your type," Daniel reasoned with a grin.
"I don't have a type," Anna explained evenly.
"Everyone says that."
"Sure," she agreed, "but I don't."
"Well, what have your exes had in common?"
"They all liked seeing me naked," Anna replied, realising too late that she had crossed a line.
"That doesn't exactly narrow the field down," he quipped, then realised he had crossed the line too with a look of awkwardness. "I mean, just, yeah. You're a beautiful woman," he added sheepishly.
"What's your type then?" She drunk to hide her own blushing. His directness never left room for flattery. If he thought she was beautiful, he meant it.
"Huh, I have one but it's complex," he said after a brief pause.
Anna rolled her eyes, "that's not much better than me having no type."
"I know my type," Daniel reiterated, "it's just complicated to explain."
Too curious to give it up now, she pressed him some more. "Give me an example."
"You," he replied quite forcefully, regretting it immediately, "you're the example."
She stopped, stunned. "Me?"
Anna was quite glad for the fact she wasn't on a bar stool as she might have fallen off it. It had never, not once in her mind, occurred to her that he saw her that way. That she would be his type.
Her whole theory with the blue shirt was built on a belief that he wanted to show he was in charge in a non-threatening way, hence the choice of blue. That was her assumption. But this was triggering her fear response in a big way.
"I'm sorry to have sprung that on you but this being my fourth pint really makes no difference," Daniel explained in a gentle tone. "Given you're leaving and I might not get another chance,"
"I'm not leaving," Anna cut-in, certain she had already made the decision, she just couldn't acknowledge why. "Well, I wasn't going to," she added to save face.
"Then I may have overshared," Daniel chuckled coolly. "We'll blame the fourth beer in hindsight."
She laughed, despite herself and despite the situation. "Why do you like me?" She had to know. It was just so unexpected, she couldn't let it go.
He looked at her in surprise. "Because of everything I said earlier this week, because of the way I feel around you." He paused and stared deeply into her eyes - a move that was far too intimate for the setting and far more romantic than she was used to. "And because of how it feels when I look you in those eyes."
"I intimidate everyone," she reminded him. "You always joke about how people are scared of me."
"You don't intimidate me," he assured her.
"I don't have a type," she reminded him, strangely determined to talk him out of his uneducated decision to like her. "I couldn't tell you who I find attractive when I walk down the street, because I don't find anyone."
"I get it," he looked disappointed but accepting of it. "To boring commutes, ay?"
_
Altogether, it could have been worse. The fourth drink had been the last and it wasn't as awkward as it might have been. He took her panicked response graciously.
They didn't speak the next day, which wasn't unusual for a Friday, when they both worked from home and focused on work as opposed to meetings. But still, it felt unsettling.
It wasn't until the weekend that Anna remembered the interaction with the lager and how weird that felt. She had liked it and she was pretty sure it had aroused her, which led her to google what it meant if she liked being told what to do.
"Nope," she exasperated aloud after reading a few forums. "Not going down that road."
Try as she might though, she couldn't shake any of it. She spent her weekend thinking about the evening, about specific parts of the conversation, about the man who interrupted her at the bar whose name she forgot but would curse in hell, about how much she had enjoyed the last year at work. Whatever she thought about, it led her back to Daniel.
It was so telling that on Monday morning, she had practically forgotten about the job offer. The only time she had dwelled on it was to ask herself why she had applied in the first place. It kept coming back to the fact that she felt Daniel was treating her differently. Now that she knew why, she had to admit however uncomfortable it may be, that she liked it. It was a sign of trust in her and also respect in her ability, but it was an unwavering point that he was in charge. She couldn't pretend to hate that concept, abstractly.
-
Many years ago, she had come to terms with the fact that her wardrobe options for work would be limited and that would be a small price to pay for the pleasure of the autonomy of her body. But on the Tuesday after going for drinks, she felt herself frustrated at her lack of options for the first time in years.
Her commute into work was spent with retail therapy and the buying of different combinations of outfits including brown boots and a maxi dress with an open back that she decided she would wear if she was ever out with Daniel again.
Anna's morning was spent in meetings so she didn't see him until lunchtime. He was walking from one meeting room to the next, whilst she sat at her desk about to warm up her leftover noodles from the night before. She checked her boss' calendar and saw he'd be free in 30 minutes for a brief lunch break. She had an hour.
Feeling completely bizarre, and driven by feelings she could not fathom, she went and got a sandwich deal from the shop and then warmed up the noodles when she got back to the office. She was in his office (only the Directors got those) when he came out of his meeting.
"Hey," he smiled as soon as he saw her, and she felt immeasurably relieved that there was no awkwardness on his part. She felt welcome, like he appreciated having her there.
She however had plenty of anxiety. "Hey," she blushed, realising how ridiculous it was. "I erm, brought you lunch. You've got a choice of the leftover noodles I made last night or a sandwich, but I didn't really know what you'd like so I just went with cheese, which is a bit crap, so you may want the noodles but I like spice so you may not like that," and why won't I stop talking? Anna thought to herself.
"Wait," Daniel replied, catching up, "you've brought me two lunches?"
"I brought you one lunch," Anna clarified, "though yeah, if you wanted both, I guess you could."
The realisation she'd actually let him have both and would starve until dinner seemed inconsequential compared to him being happy that she had done it. She had lost her mind; she could only conclude.
"Shut the door Anna," he told her. She did, even though he was a touch closer and could have done it without issue.
He went and sat on the edge of his desk in the meantime, turning to face her. She felt under quite heavy scrutiny and that too gave her a mixture of feelings.
They ate in silence, her swirling her leftover noodles on her fork, him eating the plain sandwich without complaint.
"I like this a lot, thank you. I really appreciate it," he seemed keen to reinforce that. "I'd like you to do this again tomorrow and on Thursday too, regardless of whether I have time for lunch or not. If that makes you too uncomfortable at any point, don't do it. Understood?"
She nodded. "Yes," she added at his prompting. "Understood."
_
Aside from being paranoid that someone would notice her doing it, it didn't feel the slightest bit uncomfortable in the room, despite the fact it really should have.
It felt strangely positive, like she was being useful when she cooked of an evening. She made sure to already be in his office for lunch on both days, so it would look like a lunch meeting. On the second day, he had to take a call which put an end to their lunch date, if you could call it that, but on the Thursday, they spent close to an hour just chatting.
The following week, the pattern repeated. She cooked an extra portion of whatever she planned to make, bought a sandwich, crisp and a drink that morning, and Daniel decided which option he wanted at lunchtime. She simply ate the other without complaint. She kept focused on work, wanting to show him that she was exactly what he saw in her, but slowly, her focus became him.
They talked about life, about his family on the other side of the country and how his last relationship had blown up when he she had found religion. She skirted over topics of her family, but gave enough of an account of her childhood growing up on a farm that he seemed aware enough to know it wasn't something she spoke about often.
_
"I'm really sorry," she started one Tuesday weeks later, with the pattern set. "I've got plans tonight so I can't make you lunch tomorrow."
She'd been working herself up to telling him all weekend, after realising that would be the only evening her tattoo artist would be free for a while. She had deliberately been keeping her work evenings free from social activities to keep this sacred time with Daniel. And admitting that to herself had been hard work because it had been admitting that he was the most exciting thing in her life. Maybe ever.
"That's no bother at all, I should get out and stretch my legs every once in a while anyway," he joked, tapping his stomach which seemed not to have changed behind his blue shirt.
Somewhat panicked with the potential competition with the spring air, she rushed out an offer. "What's your favourite meal? I'll make it tomorrow night so that you can have it on Thursday," she would have blushed, but she was basically beyond blushing by that point. There was no dancing around what it was anymore, though neither had spoken it.
"Huh, how about some spag bol? That's always a good test-taste for the quality of the chef. Not that I've had any reason to complain," he teased.
"Thank you, Sir," she replied instinctively.
A pause. The realisation of what she said, followed by a week's worth of blushing, which found its way onto Anna's cheeks. Even Daniel looked surprised. "Sorry," she blushed further.
"Nothing to apologise for," he assured her.
_
Anna didn't see Daniel for lunch on the Wednesday, but they were in a meeting together with others. She, for once, refused to meet his eye, though he looked over curiously a few times at the stiffness of her movements.
Anna made his requested dish as planned on Wednesday, very much aware of how much she openly enjoyed doing it for him. That evening, before bed, she again read through some of the forums she had bookmarked, no longer having the luxury of denial.
*
"Wow, this is really good," Daniel enthused over lunch the next day. "Really good!"
"Thanks, glad you like it. Just threw it together," she blatantly lied, "they say add carrot, but I think that's weird."
"Hmm," he considered her, "I'm going to bet you've got a few new recipe books since this became a thing," he indicated with the fork between them.
"How very discerning of you," she quipped back. "You would be correct."
"You know they're wondering, don't you?" He nodded back towards the open plan office.
"I suspect they are," Anna acknowledged. "I'm always in speculation of some kind."
"Do you want to stop bringing me lunches?"
"No," Anna replied firmly at once. Of anything in her life that she would not sacrifice, lunch with Daniel now came out close to top.
"Okay, another question," he paused and watched her, psyching her out some, "how did it feel calling me Sir the other day?"
She'd already dissected that many times, including on the tattoo chair on Tuesday evening. The answer had already been found. "I like it a lot, it feels very natural." She paused a little dramatically and added, "I feel like I should call you it even now, though it is highly inappropriate," she grinned.
Daniel was pleased with the openness of her response and how comfortable she was about it, nodding as she spoke. No surprise there, he is a man after all, Anna thought.
Still, he composed himself enough to answer. "Why don't we swap lunch for dinner so that it becomes more appropriate for you to refer to me like that, if you so wish?"
"I don't think it's ever going to be appropriate to call you that in public," she grinned, feeling completely at ease discussing something that had felt so foreign before. "But yeah, if we're gonna do that, I'd like to talk to you over a drink tonight first, if you're free? I need to talk to you about a few things."
He understood it was serious, and confirmed he would be free for her.
_
They went to the same bar as they had after her interview, which felt appropriate. Back then he was in the questioner's seat, now it was very much her.
"I've brought you lunch almost every day we've been in the office together for the last six weeks and not once have you asked me why I decided to stay," she started as soon as they'd had a sip of lager.
Anna had her reputation as a direct talker and Daniel was about to experience that. If he still wanted her, and she had no idea why he did in the first place, he was about to be tested.
"I hoped you'd tell me eventually or I'd work it out," Daniel answered. "I've been giving you time."
"And have you worked it out?"
He sensed her impatience and didn't try to play games. "I suspect it's because of what's happening with us. In the moment you couldn't understand what was keeping you in the job, but you've since realised." She nodded along but he continued, confident in his analysis, "these same feelings that have crystallised now are probably the same feelings that were making you uncomfortable before and making you want to leave."
Anna couldn't help but smile. There was something about him that understood her better than anyone had. "Look at you go," she smirked. "Okay, one test down, two more to go."
He looked at her quizzically, "this is very matter-of-fact for someone who wasn't interested in dating at all 6 weeks ago."
"Evidently I fancied you, I just didn't know it," she replied straightforwardly, still in the zone. "I'm being business-like or I'm going to lose my nerve with stage 2, and we don't even get to stage 3 unless you're okay with stage 2. So, lots riding on this."
She pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture. She was deliberately making it all happen fast, so that he didn't have time to compose himself. She wanted to see him react.
"This is what you'll see if you see me naked. Some of me anyway, though the rest looks the same. I took this at work today. This is me, so yeah."
She had locked herself in the bathroom and pulled her dress down to her waist, taking her bra off. Then she had taken a picture showing her piercings and her copious tattoos.
"Wow," he whispered, with no evidence of horror or disgust. "You're truly unique."
"It's a lot," she conceded.
"It is," he agreed, looking her in eyes, "but it's pictures on skin, that's all. It's new for me, but it doesn't make you any less stunning. More so, if anything."
She liked that he seemed genuine, but she didn't buy it. "That's sweet of you to say."
"I mean it," reading her, and then he took her hand, and the first time they had touched each other was like fireworks for her. She didn't even hear half of what he said, as her body flushed, and she felt the heat. "... and evidently they mean something."
"Yes," she caught-up, "they all represent something in my life. Like the tattoo I recently got of this very beer glass," she swallowed, willing herself to say the next words, "reminding me of the time I became aroused for the first time in two years, because you made me ask for permission to buy myself a drink."
Daniel was, for surely the first time, speechless.
"I don't know what's wrong with me Daniel, but I do know that I'm a lot. I do know that I haven't felt more alive than I have across these last few weeks. And I do know, if you're open to it, I'd like to explore whatever wants to come out."
"What's the third thing?" His voice sounded hoarse despite the alcohol.
"Right, yes," she took a deep breath. "I don't want dates, I don't want to be wooed, I just want to hang out with you and vibe. Experiment with whatever this is. If and when things progress in a relationship way, they progress."
Daniel looked as shell-shocked as she expected him to be. But she needed to have put it so strongly to him, he needed to understand what he was getting into.
When he recovered, processed it all, he just smiled.
"What?" Anna asked, when curiosity got the better of her.
"I'm hopeful I can give you reason to add more," he explained.
It took her a second and then his eyes moved down to her body, and she got it. "You're serious? You'd be okay with that?" Somehow, that meant more than anything.
"Anna," he leant forward and took her hand again. She just stared at it and the way it enclosed her hand so easily, "do you want me to carry on?"
"Yes," she breathed, feeling the admission take the power away from her instantly. "You've been in charge at work and in the rest of my life, you just haven't done anything about it."
He nodded. "That's going to change. You're a submissive, I knew it from the start."
"I know," she conceded, because she had no doubt he had worked her out when nobody else ever had, "but I'm always so take-charge. I'm used to making the decisions, I don't need anyone putting my shelves up for me, I don't actually need anyone to take care of me."
"You've been doing it because you need to, not because you want to." Daniel explained with such beautiful simplicity she could only agree.
_
There was no longer a sigh to withhold when he told her to do something. He no longer kept it to work, where he subtly tasked her to do things that she made sure were done. Instead, he stretched to her life outside work, where she awaited his direction on text or through calls and did as she was told more openly.
One of the things she was working on was sex. What was once inconceivable now felt like a very real possibility. Regular sex.
Anna was nothing if not a perfectionist. Which meant seeking to understand how she might need to be in what they were forming. That led to a lot of reading and a lot of watching porn. Something she had never really had much interest in until that point.
She had asked Daniel to send her things he liked to watch or videos that had scenes of things he'd like her to do. Nothing scared her, nothing was beyond what she felt she could do, and as the days continued, she recognised she was in near constant arousal.
"I'd like to buy a sex toy, if you're okay with that?"
Daniel looked up from his food and stared at her quizzically. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I assumed you'd like to give me permission, or at least determine what I buy," Anna explained evenly.
"While we're in this experimentation phase, you can do exactly that."
She put down her knife and fork and looked at him, which made him do the same. He took a sip of wine while he patiently waited for her to speak. They were out for dinner after work and sometimes the adjustment of work-Anna and outside-work Anna presented in different ways.
"Thank you, Daniel, for the patience you're showing. I know you would have wanted sex by now," she reached out and squeezed his hand.
He smiled in appreciation. "It's only been a couple of weeks; I'd hope what we're building is more meaningful than sex too soon."
She nodded. "You're right, this feels a lot more sustainable. Though I do have another request."
"Go on..."
She swallowed. "I'd like to go back to your place tonight. Not necessarily to be intimate, but to be alone with you and without anyone watching."
He had been waiting on her to step aspects of their relationship up, he had made that clear.
But he had also made clear what each step up would involve, so she knew to be ready for it. "You recall I said I'd like to see you naked when we're alone, even if nothing else happens?"
"Yes Sir," she agreed, turning to formality - something she had understood was important when answering a closed question.
"Very well," he nodded, "let's finish our meal and head back."
-
Daniel's place was modern and about what she expected it to be. Neat, tidy, the benefit of a cleaner. Modern appliances, a strong shower... and a good bed.
She was nervous, which was impossible to hide.
"It's absolutely fine," he assured her, holding her gently. "You can spend the night, and nothing needs to happen. We can also put you in an uber if you start to feel uncomfortable. I like you a lot, Anna, I'm not intending to mess this up."
She looked up at him and felt his sincerity. "I know, I trust you."
To prove it, she leaned in and kissed him.
It was tentative at first. He let her lead it, but she grew - both in comfort and desire, as she worked her lips in motion with his and prodded her tongue against his mouth.
When their tongues met, sparks flew for her, and she melted into it. The control switched and it became his kiss. She was simply going with it and being led, enjoying the feeling and the way his hands held her sides.
They parted and he went to pour them both some water. She took some steadying breaths and followed.
"My body's a big deal to me," she spoke to his back.
"I understand completely," he replied, leading them over to the seating area with her following behind him.
He had furniture designed for comfort, but she found herself drawn to kneeling as he sat, her dressing tightening over her form.
"How does that feel?"
Anna could see by his reaction it was unexpected, and his question was as much for his assurance that she was okay. "I've wanted to do this for a while," she blushed. "Pretty hard to do in your office though."
He laughed and stroked her face. Anna moved closer to him, positioning herself between his legs.
"Being that as it may, I've read submissive women really like sucking cock and I must say, that was news to me as I had very little interest in doing it before," she moved her hair over her shoulder and out of the way without breaking flow, "but the key difference now seems to be that I can't stop thinking about it and I can only assume it's because I'm finally where I belong."
She smirked devilishly and started to undo Daniel's belt.
"Good girl," he praised. She was so sure he was going to ask if she was sure, that the praise threw her. But then she absorbed it and liked it.
She pulled his trousers down to mid thigh once she was done with his belt, and then pulled his boxers down. His thick cock sat against his thigh, half-hard.
Cocks had been instruments to her before. Things to give her what she needed. Fill the hole she had and fill the need she craved as a younger woman. Riding a cock was one of the only sexual thrills she ever thought about and missed.
So, to see it and know, without doubt, that she wanted to pleasure it, to be fucked hard with Daniel over her, was a startling shift.
He was big and he grew in her hands. She wondered briefly if she'd have felt submissive to a cock this big all those years ago, or whether that was a ridiculous notion. In either case, she was grateful she had so much to pleasure now, when it mattered to her.
Anna licked up his shaft while he watched silently, enjoying the attention. She extended her tongue so that her piercing pressed his skin. Then her lips found the tip and her mouth took him in, all while her eyes stated on his meat.
She took him until her throat pushed back and then used her tongue with its piercing, and her salivating mouth, to suck him. Her hand stroked him, and she moaned over how much of him there was.
"Good girl," he repeated, and her knees went weak, threatening to push her mouth deeper given they were holding her up.
Anna realised pretty quickly just how good it felt to pleasure Daniel. To focus on his pleasure and not her own. It was soothing but arousing and she found herself moaning the more she sucked him and the wetter she made his cock. Whenever she pulled off and strands of her saliva followed, she took it as a sign that she was pleasuring him properly.
She pulled off from him and leaned back, pulling the zip of her dress down. Without missing a beat, she pulled the material down and over her breasts, so that the upper half of her body was naked for him.
When she put herself back on his cock, she could feel he was that bit harder, and she didn't need the praise he was giving her gorgeous body to tell her that.
However long she was down there, it felt like it wasn't enough. When her knees started to ache, they weren't aching enough. She knew she would stay there for as long as he wanted; she felt that submissive to him.
"I'm yours," she pulled off to tell him, strands of her saliva still connecting them, her makeup running down her face. "I don't want this to stop." Lust and arousal made her lips loose, such that it sounded more like pleas behind her tear-stained face.
Daniel stood and pulled his trousers off, his shirt then following. He looked at Anna expectantly.
She went to stand, knowing it was time, but felt his hand on her shoulder. "Do it from the floor," he told her.
Keen to obey, she started without hesitation, until it came to needing to lay on her back and pull her dress off. Looking up at him so vulnerably did things to her.
It should have made her feel uncomfortable and scrutinised, of the body she'd kept so private and enjoyed so much, but instead she felt exposed and objectified, as his eyes lusted over her.
She pulled her dress off, sitting up to pull it away from her ankles and then laid back flat on her back, looking up at him. She spread her legs and invited him to enjoy her in whatever way he wanted. He simply stopped to take her in.
As his eyes feasted on her, she felt how strong her arousal was and felt it grow with every passing second.
What was once her own body and work of art, was now his. She felt it so clearly right then.
"Cover me," she breathed. "Mark what's yours."
Tears full of emotion started to form as the strength of her feelings overwhelmed her. She had never been this aroused, this vulnerable; it was truly liberating.
He stood over her and started to stroke himself, his cock slick from her mouth.
Anna kept absolutely still. His canvas.
She was desperate to touch herself, a stronger need than the time when she had been pierced. But she held firm.
"I'm close," Daniel breathed in warning.
"All over," she pleaded in half-sentence, but the meaning was obvious.
He knelt down, knelt over her, and groaned.
His hot cum sprayed all over her body - over her stomach, the undersides of her breasts, her chest. She leaned forward and took the last bit in her mouth. A drug she had become addicted to despite never having it before.
She moaned with her mouth around him, feeling the fire in her sex. Her eyes looked up at him with the reverence of someone who had claimed her as his.
- Anna's piercings and tattoos, including a rose, a peony, and a cherry blossom, were visible under her long dress, adding to her intimidating aura.
- During their meeting, Daniel pointed out Anna's missed deadline for the segmentation report and her unexpected Thursday off, hinting at an office romance or emotional investment.
- In the following group meeting, Daniel treated Anna differently than Raquel and Emma, subtly showing a dominant demeanor towards her, while being collaborative with the other two women.