"Always Wear Lipstick to Work" by heyall
This story is told from the perspective of three different women.
I tower over the petite intern with my height and heels. It's an extra way of establishing dominance and I like the power. The intern enters my office and I close the door. Trust is paramount. Not even the CEO knows what's discussed in my private sanctuary. "Please, sit anywhere you'd like," I say, gesturing to my customized office with modern amenities. Alice has been to my office before and knows to sit on the couch, across from my leather chair. She's a 26 year-old paid intern -- blessed with a dazzling smile and gentle nature --who's on the cusp of landing a full-time gig at this financial firm. The more small talk we exchange, the more nervous she gets. I'm assuming Alice thinks her job is in jeopardy. I have a reputation for giving the axe to employees who aren't a good cultural fit or bring toxic energy to the workplace. This isn't the case, so I quash that notion. "Your job here is fine," I say. "In case you're worried about that." She shifts in her seat and smiles. "That's good to know. I love working here. I'm good at assessing financial documents and records." "Your ability to process documents is none of my concern." "Then what is?" she asks. Alice is confused about this meeting -- fair enough -- so I get to the point. "I'm interested in the relationship with your supervisor," I say. Her face turns flush, which tells me everything I need to know. I've been doing this for years, reading faces and verbal cues is my business. Right now, Alice is caught in the act. She can't fight how expressive her face is. "What would you like to know?" she asks. I decide to be blunt. "In most workplaces, a romantic relationship between consenting adults should be no one's business. But it's my job to manage workplace productivity and social cohesion. You're a 26 year old intern. Your manager is 45 and wields considerable influence. That sort of power gap is too big to ignore." "Are we going to be in trouble?" "Not at the moment. Be honest with me, what's your relationship with your direct supervisor? Does it go beyond the scope of an internship?" Alice gulps. "Ms. Sanchez and my mother are friends. That's how I got this internship. My mother asked Ms. Sanchez for a favor... now here I am. Hopefully with a career." It's a vague admission and I'm surprised that Alice calls her boss `Ms. Sanchez' instead of using a first name. It's a sign of respect, sure, but in the modern office space, first names are appropriate because no one wants to be a snob (unless you're a `Dr.' like me). My eyes focus on this charming girl. Perhaps I was wrong. I failed to give Alice the credit she deserves for being an independent adult, capable of having a sexual relationship with someone in a management position. But regardless, I have a job to perform. "You dodged my question. I notice everything. I see how you and Ms. Sanchez interact with each other. Last week, she tucked your hair behind your ear. Yesterday, she touched your lower back." When I raise my eyebrow, it's a cue to Alice that I'm done talking. "We have a small thing," she says after a quick breath. "Dating or sexual? Perhaps both?" "Neither... yet. It's complicated, which you can understand." "Are you being pressured into sex for employment?" Alice turns flush. "It's nothing like that." Suddenly the portrait is becoming clearer. This displays all the tell-tale signs of a budding office romance between two women. It's the first time I've ever come across this situation and I'm intrigued. An eager young intern with an older powerhouse of a lady. It led to an important ethical and regulatory question. What should be done about this? Yes, private is private. All employees are entitled to date whomever they wish and have their private lives respected. But in this day and age, there are strict rules regarding power gaps and age ranges. Orders have come straight from the CEO to monitor such activities for moral reasons. There are also fears of lawsuits and tarnished reputations. I trust my gut instincts on this -- and maybe other feelings deep within -- and decide to let this play out. I'm fascinated by where this would lead, especially for a young woman like Alice. "Are you a lesbian?" I ask, pushing the limits. "I'm still figuring things out. Sorry if that sounds cliche." "That's understandable. Thank you for being honest with me." "Is there a reason you asked me that question?" "Part of my job is evaluating the social climate," I explain. "As a performance psychologist, I'm entrusted with making sure that each employee has a positive state of mind. This is a high pressure business and that creates a lot of stress. I continue, "When I saw your boss making what appeared to be a sexual pass at you, I had to assume the worst. I'm glad you've cleared everything up for me. As for asking if you're a lesbian, I'm aware of your background and upbringing. I know that sexuality can be complicated, and that's okay." "Using the big `L-word' is still far away," Alice replies. "But I appreciate what you're saying. No one knows about this. My best friends and family would be shocked knowing I have sort of... a thing... with my boss. So yeah, it's complicated." "Tell me about that. Love it? Torn? Regrets?" The intern sucks a short breath. "I love where it's going, if I'm being honest." "What draws you to your boss?" "It'll sound stupid." "I'm here to listen and evaluate," I say. "I won't write this down or repeat it to anyone. My reputation for keeping secrets is flawless." Alice replies, "She's beautiful. I love the commanding presence that Ms. Sanchez possesses. I love her authority. We have a lot of chemistry, but it's hard to explain." "Where do you want this relationship to go?" "That depends on Ms. Sanchez because she's in control." "Let me ask another way. What do you think about late at night?" It hit the right spot and I notice Alice's legs tighten, then cross. She understands the depths of my simple question. "How honest do you want?" Alice asks. "This is a safe space. I'm here for your mental well-being." Alice nods. "Ms. Sanchez wants to go down on me. Her fantasy is to give me oral sex during coffee break. She's close to a big promotion and doesn't want to risk anything, so she's checking my interest levels. Since then, it's basically all I've thought about." My impression is that a sheltered girl like Alice feels alive by the prospect of a whirlwind romance with a much older (and more powerful) woman. Sometimes a person like Alice craves experience. "I can see why you're flustered," I say. "It's not an easy thing to admit. You seem excited by the idea of these things happening." "Do I?" "Yes, you do. You're the youngest person who works here. When we first met months ago, I got the impression that the corporate atmosphere and stressful environment intimidated you. At your age, working alongside seasoned professionals is a difficult feat." "I know," Alice replies. "I've never admitted this to anyone, but I used to be terrified coming here everyday." "And you've risen to the challenge. You've blossomed in this environment. Some do, some don't. You've exceeded my expectations." Pondering, the young intern reflects on everything. "What's your honest opinion about this? I mean, obviously you're not going to encourage me to pursue... you know... these things in the office. So why haven't you talked me out of it?" "My opinion? You're more powerful than you realize. Consider this a learning experience. Not just for your sexuality, but your confidence and your savvy approach to an office career. I believe you'll be a better woman as a result. Of course, there are pitfalls to office romances, but you'll have to figure that out. It's part of growing. If you have any issues, I'm here for you." "That's very sweet," she smiles. "Thank you, I truly appreciate that. And I think you're right about everything. I feel as though I'm in a new world and I'm still getting used to the game." "Can I give you some advice?" "Sure, please." "Be more assertive," I say, looking her over. "This is a highly-competitive atmosphere and your presentation needs work. You look too young. Too naive, in many ways. Your self-confidence is lacking. I suppose it was inevitable that someone would turn you into a sexual plaything." "Wow, that was harsh." The look on the intern's face is both horrified and amused. Sometimes honesty gets that reaction from a person. Especially when it comes to sex. "Harsh, but true," I reply. "Would you like a suggestion?" "I'm open to anything. You're the expert, after all." It's always nice hearing that. I go to my purse and grab a Dior brand lipstick. Red, of course. Ruby red, to be exact. Then I sit next to Alice and open the top of the lipstick. She knows what's going to happen so she sits upright and lifts her chin. When I apply the lipstick, she pouts her lips to make the process easier. Right now I'm an artist putting the final touch on a painting. Alice looks older now, more sophisticated. "Always wear lipstick to work," I say. "Is it necessary? No. But in my opinion, it gives you a more refined appearance that I think you're lacking. Here, have a look." I hand Alice a small mirror and she examines her reflection. The red lipstick worked as intended and we both marvel at her new presentation. "It almost glows," Alice says, pursing her lips at the mirror. "It's a designer brand from France and it's worth the price. Do you like it? Here, keep it. It belongs to you." "Oh, no, I can't. Thank you, though." Again, the intern reverts to a shy young woman, with body language to match, hunching her shoulders down and making a nervous face. It was the wrong response and I'm disappointed. I lift an eyebrow. "Remember what I said. Your confidence is sorely lacking. If I give you something, accept it with pride. Have the mentality that you deserve everything you get because we're equals." A bit more forcefully, I hand Alice the lipstick, this time she accepts. "Thank you. I'll wear it." "I hope so. It makes you look like a new person. Your confidence levels will change if you follow my advice. Be more aggressive. Settle for what you're worth. Wear the lipstick to work everyday." My assessments are correct 95% of the time. When our conversation ends and Alice leaves my office, I wonder if this is the 5% where I have a rare misstep. The reality is, sex is part of life, even in the office. But I worry that I've fed Alice to the wolves by condoning an illicit relationship with her superior. ~~~~~ OFFICE MANAGER: MS. SANCHEZ ~~~~ I enjoy trips to Dr. Guillard's office because she has the most exquisite taste. The artwork must be worth a small fortune, not to mention the chic furniture. Stepping into her office is like stepping into a private museum for the rich. We keep the conversation cordial because I'm always careful around her. The last thing I want is a bad report -- a negative assessment can ruin careers -- but this morning I'll be pushing the limits of Dr. Guillard and the work she does. I have great respect for her. Will she still respect me after this? "So, what can I do for you?" she asks. "Alice," I say. My comment hits the bullseye and piques her interest. Yes, she knows exactly what this is about and she's ready to delve deeper. I know she's curious, too. Sex has a way of sparking conversations. "Let's talk about that," Dr. Guillard says. "I've noticed your subtle interactions with Alice over recent weeks. It's been escalating." "That's right. Alice told me everything about your private conversation. I have to thank you. The red lipstick. You're right, it adds something to her. Her beauty. Her confidence. She's more of a woman now." Dr. Guillard leans forward. "You're in my office because you're afraid I'll report your relationship, which has clearly turned sexual at this point. Office rules have changed and sexual liaisons are frowned upon." "You win," I say. "That's right. I'll admit it, I'm afraid of a bad report. Can you blame me?" "Context matters and it's unlikely that I'll report this. Alice is a grown woman and she has to learn certain things. She's free to do what she wants. I don't think there's any sort of harassment." "Either way, I want to clear the air between us. My reputation means a lot." Dr. Guillard lifts an eyebrow and nods. "This could be helpful for my files and assessments. I would be interested to know more about you and Alice, especially since Alice is a new employee." "Where would you like me to start?" Right away I know that Dr. Guillard is more enthusiastic than she shows. She's like a poker player, she keeps her thoughts guarded. But it's the minor details, the shifts in her eyebrows, the movement of her feet, the deepening of her breaths, that show her interest. Aroused? Probably. "Start with how you met Alice," the psychologist says. "She mentioned that she got the internship through a family connection." I nod. "That's right, Alice's mother is a dear friend of mine. As a manager, I get job requests often. It's part of the gig. I still remember our conversation over lunch. `Can you help my daughter find a job? An internship maybe? She's a smart girl, hard working. I'll owe you big time.' I usually turn down these requests because this firm has rigorous hiring policies. But the fact was, Alice had built an impressive resume for her age. Timing was good, too, since there was an opening for an internship." "Did you meet with Alice before you agreed to work with her?" "Like I said, Alice's mother is a dear friend, so I'd known Alice in passing over the years. She used to be a shy, nerdy girl. Sometimes Alice's mother would show me pictures or tell me about how she got into college. Just normal things that friends talk about." "Did you find her to be attractive?" "Everyone thinks Alice is attractive," I admit. "But that didn't factor into my hiring decision. I get lots of work inquiries from plenty of women that I find attractive." Dr. Guillard takes a short breath. "If these questions start to feel uncomfortable, let me know. I think this helps to get a more complete picture of the situation." "Oh, absolutely." "Tell me about when Alice started working here," she says. "What was that like? Did you have immediate chemistry?" "The first day working with Alice... let's see... I still remember it clearly. Her new ensemble impressed me. Gone was the college nerd with poor taste in clothes. Alice transformed into a stylish woman, I'm sure with the help of her mother. She came with a new sense of being. Something that screamed to be taken seriously. Immaculate in every way. No creases or wayward folds in her clothes. I continue, "Appearances matter in the office, at least to me. Right or wrong, I'm judgmental about personal presentation. It shows a level of class and work ethic. Putting on a strong presentation takes dedication. Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong, but that's my opinion. I continue, "The first day with Alice was a treat. I gave her an overview of the internship position, what's expected of her, daily duties, the rules and norms of the office, that sort of thing. She was a sponge and absorbed all the knowledge with ease. Those are the kinds of traits I look for. I need people with enthusiasm. But deep down, I felt... it's hard to explain..." "A sexual attraction? It sounds like you had feelings for Alice the moment you saw her in a suit. Perhaps the change of setting and attire made Alice more to your liking. She was no longer a shy college girl that you'd dismiss, but a young woman to train." "What do you think my interest is?" I ask rhetorically. "Submissive office employees," she replies, without missing a beat. "It's a common fantasy." "Do you hear that a lot from the people that work here? I bet guys tell you about their office conquests. It happens a lot. A decade ago, it seemed like fucking or sucking the right guy was the only way to get a promotion." "I won't divulge what other people discuss, but times have certainly changed." "Anyway, you're right," I say. "The way Alice dressed changed everything. This is terrible to admit, but I saw her as my intern, my trainee... my woman." "Interesting statement. You saw Alice as your woman. Tell me about that." "This is going to remain confidential, right? I don't want to say anything that would incriminate me in your infamous reports." "Nothing is raising red flags because Alice consents to this relationship. I'm genuinely curious about Alice and I think having more information can help with my future profiles on her." There are subtle movements from Dr. Guillard's lower body and I'm positive that she's aroused. Of course she is, she's only human, after all. There's only so much a person can take before breaking, and as much as she hides her emotions, she has a functioning clitoris along with an active brain. I had to swallow my pride coming here because I was afraid of a negative report. Now it's the opposite. I'm eager to tease Dr. Guillard with these details, to torture her in the best possible way. I can't be too obvious, though. A deep breath, then I collect my thoughts. "Her hair sometimes grazes across her eyebrows. She was experimenting with new hairstyles when she started her internship. She'd go shorter and shorter, and if it was windy outside, her hair would fall across her face. I remember one time she handed me a report, a few strands of hair fell across her eyes and cheek. I thought it was cute. She's a beauty. I shouldn't have touched her, but I did. I used my fingers to tuck her hair behind her ears. I continue, "Do you know how she reacted? She blushed. She smiled. That was after new rules and guidelines were issued for workplace conduct. That's why I regretted it, but Alice's smile was worth seeing. Her body language changed and she had a docile posture. She looked like a puppy awaiting orders. I'll never forget it. I continue, "From that point forward, I expected Alice to get the hair situation under control. She's a fast learner and fixes her mistakes quickly. Instead, the opposite happened. She cut her hair shorter and she'd come in the morning with slightly messy hair from the wind outside. Again, the docile posture. She'd stand close to me, waiting for it to happen. It was about a week or two later when I obliged. I fixed her hair, this time with both hands, tucking her hair behind her ears." "How did Alice react to that?" Dr. Guillard asks. "Let's see, how did Alice react? I swear I could smell her aromas. Treating her like a doll had dangerous effects. We both knew where things were headed. Like I said -- dangerous. We did this a few times, playing a secret game where I'd fix her hair and outfits. Of course, I'd look around to make sure no one saw. We never said anything though. It was an unspoken game between two professionals. I continue, "It was evident that my intern was both sexually intrigued and had submissive tendencies. A potent combination for a boss/subordinate relationship. A thing of beauty waiting to happen. Spotting submissive women is a hobby of mine. Everyone has their vice, mine are women like Alice and their need for an older teacher. Deep in my heart, I knew the desire was mutual. I'd see my intern gazing at me with admiration at various hours of the day. Every time I gave a strict order, my intern would appear weak in the knees. Oh yeah, the girl was submissive-minded, without a doubt. A rare gem that appears in my life every once in a while. It was only a matter of time before we crossed the line." The lower lip of Dr. Guillard quivers from my candid statements. How amusing. I've been in this lifestyle for so long that I forget how riveting it can be. "Consensual, intimate details are none of my business," she says. "But my job is to ensure quality performance from all employees. So I'd like to keep inquiring, if you don't mind." "Sure, of course." "Has any of this occurred in the office place? I'd like to know if there are any potential conflicts that may arise. You won't get in trouble. I'll keep this discreet." Should I drop the bomb on her? I take a few moments to think and Dr. Guillard is waiting for my response. The elements in my heart want to come out, to reveal themselves and thrive in the open. Finally, I decide to push things further. Part of this is Dr. Guillard's fault, after all. "The first time I kissed Alice was when she wore red lipstick," I say, before sticking the ultimate jab to the psychologist. "The red lipstick that YOU gave her. I saw Alice leaving your office and she seemed different. When I stood close to her I realized what happened. I asked her about the red lipstick. She'd never worn lipstick before. Alice said you gave it to her, that you put it on her lips. I continue, "A fire burned inside me, and the fire was the same color as the lipstick. Without a doubt, I had to have her. I knew she'd be mine that day. When we had privacy, she asked if the red lipstick made her more beautiful. She asked if it was okay to keep wearing it. I told Alice that her lips would be trained soon. The look on her face was priceless, I'll always remember it. Her jaw dropped and I could just smell her pussy, better than any perfume on the market. I continue, "Late that afternoon, when employees started going home, I asked Alice to stay a little longer. We were in the midst of a multi-million dollar acquisition and I needed the help. The workload was legitimate, but the excuse was bullshit, I had other employees assigned to the job. I continue, "We went to the storage room and I planted kisses across Alice's neck, and when she was primed, I gave her a sweet tongue kiss. It was pure romance, despite the boxes and supplies that surrounded us. My intern was swept away. But as she soon learned, romance isn't my thing. Kisses are nice, but my favorite is pussy licking. I taught Alice how to use those lips. She got on her knees and I exposed myself. It was Alice's first taste of a woman and she was nervous, but she's a natural. I gave her instructions on how I like to be pleased. Imagine those sweet lips of hers, pressing against my labia and clit. That red lipstick made it divine. I went home with Alice's lipstick kisses on my mound. I even took a picture of it, so I'll always have that image. I continue, "That's been our relationship ever since. We work, we play, I teach her things, when there's enough privacy, she puts on a fresh coating of that Dior lipstick and goes down on me. I'm a generous woman. I go down on Alice, too. She tastes sweet, you know. She's succulent. I stuff my panties in Alice's mouth or else she'd scream. Her body shakes violently and she bites down on my panties when she cums. I love eating her out." As expected, Dr. Guillard is speechless by the revelation. I'm flattered that I'm (probably) the first person in her career to leave her speechless. "It's inappropriate to give that much detail," she says with a deep gulp. "What's the matter? Did that catch you by surprise? Are you stunned that your red lipstick played a role in Alice's development as a sexually submissive young woman?" Dr. Guillard pauses, holding a straight face. "I knew it was possible." "Was it something you hoped would happen?" "I hoped for Alice to find herself. To be an independent-minded person in the corporate world. Looks like I've made a miscalculation. By encouraging Alice to be more confident in the workplace, I've inadvertently driven Alice into your arms." "To her knees," I clarify. She clears her throat. "We should end this session. Thank you for the candor." I understand why Dr. Guillard is kicking me out. I went too far and she's morally conflicted about her role in this situation. What an absolute turn-on. When she opens the door, the sound of a bustling financial firm enters the once quiet room. Now we have to be careful about what we say, or else people can hear these forbidden secrets. I put my hand on Dr. Guillard's shoulder before she leads me out. "I'm a subtle operator," I say, keeping things vague. "I've been doing this a long time and I know when women are interested. So, are you interested?" My hand slides down her arm, prompting her to step back and clench. "Thank you for coming. I appreciate your time." Her loss... for now... ~~~~ THE NEW EMPLOYEE: ALICE ~~~~ Call it a weekly meeting to improve the work-life balance. Call it a session to increase productivity and foster a positive mindset. Call it whatever you want. I get on my knees and Ms. Sanchez lifts her skirt. No panties underneath. She's sitting down on the couch with an expectant look on her face. We're in the psychologist's office and this is my `performance review' to make sure this relationship runs smoothly. Dr. Guillard is watching with keen eyes. It's definitely embarrassing having these two prominent women staring at me. The pressure is high and triggers a sense of anxiety. This is what I've agreed to, this is the life I've chosen. I live to serve. That's the truth. I'm not supposed to say these things. I'm not supposed to admit it, or even think such thoughts. But it's the truth. My truth. Landing a full-time job means I have a career path in this competitive city. A job here also means that I'm on my knees for Ms. Sanchez whenever the opportunity arises. My boss likes a certain way of being licked and I pride myself on being able to provide the best orgasms. Being good wasn't an easy road. It took a lot of practice. At her suggestion, I have a supply of fresh peaches in my apartment, and each night I cut a peach in half to practice oral sex. It's a great way to train my tongue, along with getting fresh nutrients and fiber. If I had to compare, Ms. Sanchez tastes better than any peach. My mother would go berserk if she knew that my tongue is gliding up Ms. Sanchez's labia, making her clitoris aroused. I've always felt guilty about that because my mother and Ms. Sanchez remain close friends. My mother enjoys getting updates about how I'm handling myself in a busy financial firm, and in exchange, Ms. Sanchez is happy to give me endless praise. This may sound like a gross abuse of power, but I can assure you, dear reader, that's far from the truth. As I'm eating Ms. Sanchez with vigor, I wonder who's getting more pleasure. Me or her? She moans watching me perform. Her body twitches with each flick of my tongue, each suck from my lips. I give the best head, according to her. But is she really having more pleasure than me? Ms. Sanchez is gearing up for an epic orgasm, making an elegant mess in my mouth, enjoying the heavenly bliss that follows. The natural order of things. However, the feeling she receives may be fleeting. She's a busy woman and she'll be hustling after her cum. Will she remember me at night? On the other hand, I will obsess over this after work. I'll go back to my crummy apartment and make myself cum, over and over again, replaying this event in my mind. When I lay down in bed before sleeping, I'll replay this moment again, wondering what I could do differently. How I can improve my evolving head technique. Surely there are new tools I can add to my repertoire. That's what it means to serve. I'm going down on Ms. Sanchez and there's a burning sensation between my legs. The room smells of my dampness. I've learned to take pride in my blatant arousal. I also consider it a gift to Dr. Guillard because my fragrance is unique. Ms. Sanchez always quivers before she cums and that gives me notice that my mouth is going to be flooded. It's my cue to swallow, to make sure I don't choke. Although she tastes good, the true pleasure I get from this is what her cum represents. It means I've given her the ultimate physical pleasure. It means that I've served her to the best of my ability. If I touch myself at this very moment, I could cum just as hard. That's how aroused I am from swallowing her delicious cum. When I pull my mouth away, a string of saliva and cum hangs from my lips, and I'm treated to the sight of my work. Ms. Sanchez is a wreck, like she just survived a horrible accident, eye glazed, back hunched over. Her pussy fluids are dripping onto the floor and I grab a tissue from the table to clean the mess I've caused. And then there's the red lipstick. It marked her clitoris with the shape of my mouth. It's a badge of honor. I get a twisted sense of delight, knowing that for the rest of the day, Ms. Sanchez will see the shape of my lips whenever she has to use the bathroom to pee. A gentle reminder that I did that. Dr. Guillard `thanks' me for the review. I've passed with flying colors, she says. When I look at the psychologist, her face is red and her legs cross. I recognize her body language. She reacts the same way that I react in these situations. There's no doubt in my mind that Dr. Guillard will finger-fuck herself after we leave. Probably for the days to come. She'll smile whenever she sees me. Ms. Sanchez also thanks me, followed by a kiss on the lips. She stands while I remain kneeling and she fixes her clothes to look presentable. Of course, she leaves my lipstick kisses across her clitoris, labia, and crotch. As I mentioned, she'll be seeing those lipstick marks when she has to go pee. She fluffs her hair and smiles down at me. I leave the office alongside my boss and we go separate directions. Our primary objective is to avoid raising suspicions. Ms. Sanchez glows from the power of an orgasm, and if we're walking side-by-side, it's a bad look. Way too obvious. The best office sex is secretive and intense, which she's teaching me. The End always remember ~~ you are important Twitter & Instagram: @heyallstories