Bella Shows the Boss Who’s Gonna Obey

Bella loves her job and is damn good at it.

Even though her employment contract says assistant, she’s much more than that. She is in charge and is basically kind of a middleman between the boss and HR, and without anyone really realising it, she has a say in who the company ends up hiring. She’s always thought of herself as a creative person and is continuously pleased when the marketing department implements one of their ideas. Finally, it’s Bella who works with the accountant to process the paperwork to make sure everyone’s paycheck comes in on time, which is, after all, the main reason people bother coming to work in the first place.

She enjoys the job, but what really pisses her off is her boss. Bella calls him Cole-the-Prick, though she would never dare say it out loud. It’s just the way it is. Cole really is a jerk, and it doesn’t change the fact that he’s really, really stunningly handsome.

Bella’s boss has those dreamy dark eyes, doll-like eyelashes, and thick but not bushy eyebrows, and his lips look soft and smooth. Not succumbing to the fashion for laziness, where practically everyone wears a beard or at least stubble, the boss always comes to work meticulously shaved, and his really manly, slightly angular chin would be a shame to hide under the growth, though Bella was sure a beard would suit him as well.

But the body! Cole was lean and athletic, with narrow hips and a broad chest and powerful shoulders. He has a wide neck, and Bella could easily imagine grabbing him by the back of that neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

He’s a prick, sure, but he’s never crossed any lines with her. He’s never let himself do anything, even though, if we’re being honest, Bella probably wouldn’t mind. Not really. No, Cole-the-Prick is an idiot sexist, and practically not a day goes by when he doesn’t let something completely inappropriate out of his sexy mouth.

“Honey, go get me a sandwich so you can get some exercise too,” he told her yesterday. And he even added: “Maybe that’ll earn you part of your pay.”

“Damn, Bella,” he told her sometime last week. “When my wife calls, you’re supposed to tell her I’m not here. You stupid women just stick together and can’t shut up.”

But he completely blew it when he tried to praise her for arranging for the firm to get more than expected in tax refunds.

“Well,” he winked at her. “Not bad… for a woman.”

She’d gotten the idea to take it up with her boss over the weekend. The display on her phone showed a picture of Cole, one of many she’d stealthily snapped in the office. This one was particularly hot. He frowned a little at the laptop monitor while licking his dry lips. Because it was so heat and humid, he had unbuttoned an extra button on his shirt, allowing the hair on his chest to show through. Perfect.

As always, Bella felt a slight tingle on her nipples at first. She held her cell phone with her left hand and pulled up her shirt with the other. She took her time, feeling the fabric brushing against her erect nipples until her perky breasts were quite free. She pinched a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and gave a tiny squeeze, feeling her crotch moisten. She wiggled her hips gently, feeling her enlarged labia send a wave of pleasure with the movement.

She moaned.

She thumbed the display to show another photo. In it, Cole was on the phone with a customer, his eyes focused and narrowed, making his chin stand out even more.

Bella circled her palm over the erect nipple, imagining it was Cole’s fingers, his palms. His tongue. She couldn’t take it anymore and her hand left her aroused breast and slipped into her panties. Instantly her hand was wet. First she ran her fingers over her smoothly shaved clit and moaned. She put the cell phone down so she could see it because she needed both hands. She returned one to her nipple, increasing the pleasure with gentle stimulation. With the other hand she focused fully on her pussy. Her thumb gently circled her clit, each touch intensifying her pleasure, and when her index and middle fingers went inside, all she had to do was press lightly on the G-spot and she arched her back gently, ready to indulge in a climax.

At the merest moment, the cell phone tilted and a picture of the boss lighting a cigarette accidentally showed up on the phone. A habit she absolutely hated, cigarette smoke was suffocating and Cole never even let her finish when she suggested e-cigarettes to him.

Excitement was replaced by anger.

“My office, my rules,” he used to say. “If you don’t like it, Bella, there’s the door. University humanities departments spit out thousands of potential secretaries every year.”

She seized her cell phone and brandished it furiously in the corner of the bedroom. Placing both hands on her bare stomach, her excitement had vanished, but her fury remained unshaken.

She’d gotten the idea at that very moment, right then, and liked it instantly. If she quit, it would be after Cole-the-Prick had been taught a lesson in decorum.

She went shopping and knew exactly what she needed. She’d always had this fantasy inside her, the strong inner desire she’d never had the courage to share with anyone before was stronger than ever, and the thought of making it a reality made her crotch tingle. Her nipples were so hard as she paid at the checkout, discreetly packaged goods in a plain black bag, that they were poking out under her thin, nippleless t-shirt and there was nothing she could do about it at the moment.

She planned her revenge for lunchtime. She suggested to her boss that she would go get his lunch and he just muttered contentedly: “Don’t cook it yourself, women just can’t cook, it’s not in their nature.”

She gritted her teeth, but let it go.

At noon, most of the people in the office next door, the only place they could hear what was going on in the office she shared with her boss, headed out for lunch. Those who stayed were the two lonely dudes who brought their lunches to work from home and enjoyed their meal on their lunch break with earbuds. They posed no problem for Bella.

The women’s restroom was right across the hall from their office door and when she returned, dressed in her new outfit, she locked the door behind her and just as she expected, her boss didn’t even look up. He assumed she had returned with his lunch and expected her to serve the food on his plate and add the carefully polished cutlery.

Only that didn’t happen. Not now, anyway.

When she cracked the whip the first time, she made sure the thin tip with the small metal stones on the sides hit the exact edge of Cole’s table.

Whap!

The surprise in his eyes, the shock as he pushed off the desk in fright and nearly fell off the escaping massive black office chair. He opened his mouth and narrowed his eyes, ready to glare at her and probably add some more belittling comment.

But he didn’t. Not this time. He looked up at her and widened his eyes again in surprise, hell, Cole-the Prick was rubbing his eyes at her, completely unable to acknowledge what he was seeing.

And what he saw was really worth it.

Bella, the pleasant, obedient assistant, was dressed in a black latex dominatrix outfit. Her slender figure, usually dressed in bland colours and loose fits, was accentuated by a tight corset that practically exposed her firm, large breasts. In her hand she held a long black whip, not unlike the one the main character had cracked in Indiana Jones. Her long slim legs dressed in high latex boots with 15 cm stiletto heels completed her hot dominant look.

Instead of sober work makeup, her eyes were accentuated with black cat eye shadow and deep red, almost black lipstick. Her hair, usually subtly styled in a knot at the top of her head, was loose, dark brown, straight, and long almost to her waist. She was damn sexy, and she knew it.

“Bella?” Her boss blurted out.

She cracked the whip again, this time so that he felt a lash on his arms, and into his painful wrap she uttered in a firm voice.

“For you: Bellatrix.”

She stepped closer and let his eyes trace her curves. She smiled contentedly and commanded in a deep, throaty voice.

“Say my name!”

He gasped, “Bellatrix.”

“Good Colie-boy.”

Her boss blinked, realising he was staring at her with his mouth slightly open. Even as he closed his mouth, the shock remained in his eyes. And something began to bulge insistently in his crotch.

She pointed the whip at him and ordered.

“On the floor. On all fours! Now!”

He hesitated a moment, but only for a second or two. Then he rolled off the chair and onto his knees on the floor, his hands on the grey carpet, all the while never taking his eyes off her.

She cracked the whip again, hitting his back, and noted with satisfaction how he arched and hissed in pain.

Whap!

“When I say now,” she growled in a deep voice he hadn’t yet known, “I mean now!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled and crouched a little, expecting another blow.

“Who’s the boss now?” She said. She stepped closer, standing just above him now, she could smell his cologne and he must have smelled her perfume. And something else that excitedly flared his nostrils and parted his lips as his eyes travelled up and back down her black latex-clad perfect body. She extended the whip in her hand, letting the firm handle’s transition to the flexible part brush against his chin. Then she lifted it, guiding his gaze up to meet hers.

Everything was in those eyes. Fear and excitement. Surprise and admiration.

“I demanded,” his gaze fixed on her eyes and his voice firm and commanding, “Who’s the boss here?”

“You,” he blurted out.

Whap!

Whap!

Whap!

She cracked the whip several times, and this time she did not spare him. He instinctively raised his hand against the blows, but didn’t prevent the pebble end from hitting him across the back and across his ass. He crouched like a dog, like a timid, rogue mutt, and looked up at her just the same.

“You, Bellatrix, are my mistress,” he growled.

“Take off those rags,” she ordered.

He didn’t hesitate. Not this time. At first, she didn’t know if he was still in shock and instinctively decided to obey, or if he agreed to play her game and gave in.

It soon became clear. Before long, it was glaringly apparent, pulsing and rigid. He discarded everything, from his garments down to his boxers and vibrant socks, until stark naked, he knelt before her. His arousal now pointed boldly towards her, unyielding and rising upward.

Bella could feel how aroused she was. Instead of panties, her crotch costume was just a thin strip of latex attached to her corset. As she always did when in such a state, she wiggled her hips slightly and allowed the thin strip of fabric to slide all the way between her bare labia, offering her boss a practically unobstructed view of her pussy.

She arched in pleasure again, cracking the whip as she did so, and Cole just barely ducked out of the way so he wouldn’t catch her across the face. A red stripe appeared on his muscular chest.

Bella moaned, using her free hand to help herself, pulling the corset down a little, freeing her firm breasts with their tiny, dark nipples, as hard as the end of her whip with little stones on it. She fondled her nipples and lashed again with the whip, this time the boss made no attempt to avoid her blow. Instead, his right hand grasped his cock and stroked it in regular, rhythmic movements, his eyes stirring hungrily over her body.

Another blow. Another red streak, this time on her stomach. A moan escaped from his open mouth.

Bella played with her breasts, cracking the whip, her boss masturbating at her feet. She was oblivious. In her imagination, it was all happening differently. She had planned to demand an apology from him, he was supposed to be there, warped, humiliated, terrified, but instead lust had completely taken over. As the blows struck his body—on his chest, thighs, behind, and back—and a few undoubtedly graced his throbbing manhood, the sensation was electrifying. It was so intense that she clenched her legs together, contracting her vaginal muscles, relishing the growing pleasure that enveloped and consumed her.

Her vagina throbbed with wetness as her lips tingled and she moistened them with her tongue. With a mere grunt, she lashed her boss’s nude form with one hand, alternating between fondling each nipple with the other. Cole, gazing up at her with watery eyes, neglected her nearly exposed pussy and bare breasts, choosing to meet her gaze instead. His hand worked fervently on his cock. They both edged closer to climax.

She could barely stay on her feet, her knees trembling, she had never experienced such pleasure. She tried to prolong it, tried to make the excitement that engulfed her whole body last forever, but at the same time she couldn’t deny herself any longer and put off the climax.

A well-deserved, triumphant one.

“Say my name,” she ordered.

“Bellatrix,” he grunted in response.

That was all she needed. That was all she could stand.

She made no effort to muffle the screams of orgasm. She had to brace her free hand on the edge of the desk and with the other she struck one last time, giving her all into the blow. All the strength she had left, desire, excitement, rage, love and hate.

Then the whip fell from her hand and she shuddered and moaned and there was no end to it.

When it all subsided and she stood there half naked over her boss, eyes wide open, she couldn’t believe what she had done.

Cole-the-Prick, naked beneath her feet, lay on his back, breathing heavily. There was a large dark spot next to his knee.

She gasped at first. It wasn’t until she was sure she was herself again, in control, that she looked up into those dark, pretty eyes that were still watching her lasciviously.

“I’m going to lunch,” she declared. “When I get back, the place will be tidy, the stain will be gone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Bellatrix,” he whispered.

Dressed back in her light grey suit with a skirt that touched their knees, her hair neatly brushed into a simple bun, she sat alone at a table in the diner near the office. She fiddled with her fork in her Greek salad, unable to devour a single bite.

She’d probably have to quit her job. She knew she’d have no problem getting another job with her skills, but she really liked this one.

She pictured standing practically naked over her sexy boss as he squirted his cum under her black spike heels.

She shook her head. Damn, what was she thinking?

She was late getting back to the office. She peeked in, but didn’t find her boss there. The stain on the carpet had been carefully scrubbed and smelled of lemon. She glanced at her watch, the meeting that was held every Monday at one in the afternoon had already started. She grabbed her computer and trotted into the meeting room. Everyone was already there, just waiting for her. She took the last available seat next to Cole, he didn’t even look at her. His shirt was buttoned up to his neck, his face had the usual businesslike expression, so she had no idea what was going on in his head.

He lifted his head from the notes in front of him and looked directly at her. She flushed, unable to speak.

Then his gaze turned to his colleagues, four men and one woman. Most already had ashtrays ready in front of them, as all the men at this meeting smoked regularly.

“One piece of news,” Cole uttered in a firm voice. “It’s time to enter the twenty-first century. From now on, this company is smoke-free. Regular cigarettes will not be tolerated at all, and you can indulge in a vape on the back patio.”

The room murmured, with surprise, excitement, dissatisfaction.

The boss took no notice. He turned to Bella again, and even this time his expression didn’t betray what he was thinking either.

“Coffee?” He asked her.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she nodded.

He stood up, and without asking anyone else present, made sure, “Cappuccino, two sugars and cream?”

“No sugar,” she said, trying to look as if this was perfectly normal.

He nodded, and as he passed her towards the door, he whispered. “Right away, Bellatrix.”

Did you pay attention? Good. Now you’ll pay for it!