(Excerpt taken from Part One: Feminine Ascendant)

This young woman, who for six months had been merely a junior member of my team – and now had the power to end my Standing quietly forlorn in my underwear, I waited for her to tell me what a jerk I’d been – and what an idiot I was to be stripping down in front of her now. Then, suitably chastened, I was sure she’d hassle me out of the office to start my weekend.

She didn’t.

She said only, “Those too.”

I swallowed, took a deep breath, wishing to God that the creatures crawling around my stomach would stop moving.

Then I put my fingers into the waistband of my boxer shorts and with a little flick of my wrists, the cotton was slipping over my butt and down my thighs, leaving me standing to attention in front of my department head, naked as a jaybird.


This young woman, who for six months had been merely a junior member of my team – and now had the power to end my career, put me on the bread line – and I was completely exposed to her, as though I’d stumbled into some teenage nightmare.

What was she going to do? I felt my cock twitch in the air, out of pure anxiety.

I had to have looked so ridiculous.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked now.

“I don’t want you to talk unless you’re answering a question, understand?”


“You can take that as a new rule, whenever we’re alone.”

She took a few steps toward me, and I could feel her eyes running all over my body, peering at me, examining me, assessing me as though I was a farm animal, or perhaps a slave at market. Slowly, she wandered around, just looking at me.

I was guessing that this was some kind of trick designed to make me completely compliant to her every command from now on. I’d comply, though part of me was thinking how she must be breaching corporate sexual harassment rules. The rest of me was still scratching about for ideas on what kind of job I might get with my qualifications and no references if she was planning on humiliating me before firing me.

From behind me, I heard her say: “Kneel on the floor.”

I did as she told me, my pulse accelerating from the complete uncertainty I felt as I slumped down to my knees. I had no idea what she had in mind. Was she going to suddenly march the rest of our team in the room to see me in this embarrassing state?

“Hands on the floor,” she barked.

I complied, down onto all fours.

She stood in front of me. I kept my head down since that was the easiest thing to do to keep my hands on the floor. From there I could see only her high-heeled black leather shoes and shapely calves clad in provocative black fishnet pantyhose. Had she been wearing fishnets all day? I hadn’t noticed that. I really must have been blinded by my resentment.

So close to her, I could detect a hint of her perfume in the air, which was surprisingly sweet for someone attempting to come over as a forceful authority.

“Lick my shoe.”

So, she was really going to put me in my place.

I leaned forward, craning my neck to reach the cool black leather of her nearest shoe. I took a deep breath, drawing in a stronger hint of her fragrance, and of course the aroma of leather itself. Then I stuck out my tongue as far as it would go, and trailed a long lick from the toe of her shoe along to the heel, figuring I’d show her I could do this properly, whatever whacko demands she had.

“And the other one,” she ordered me.

I complied.

It might have been humiliating, but it actually sent a shiver of exhilaration through my body, feeling so degrading, so filthy, that subtle yet sweet perfume of hers added into the mix to make me feel suddenly so alive.

Sure, it helped she was attractive, but it was a real surprise to me how this compliance seemed such a serious thrill.

Zoey made me lick both of her shoes again, which I took ludicrous time to complete to show her how willing I was. As I trailed my tongue around the hard leather, she said: “That’s good. I think perhaps you can follow orders after all.”

I was about to assure her I could do exactly that, when I remembered her earlier order not to talk unless answering a question.

Head still bowed respectfully, my lips pausing on the upper slope of her shoe, I heard a whispering of fabric as she reached under her skirt for a moment, and then I was startled as something dropped down onto me.

Her panties.

I looked up at her, a burning question in my eyes as she stepped out of the little black thong. She looked ravishing in her smart office wear made wicked by fishnets and high heels, but my eyes widened as she lifted up her skirt, revealing the lace tops of her thigh-high hold-ups and then a beautiful little shaven pussy, adorned by a tidy patch of soft dark-brown hair.

“Now lick me here,” she said.

Buy the book:


Submitting to Her

Amazon (Kindle) »

Amazon.co.uk (Kindle) »

Barnes & Noble (Nook) »

Smashwords (Other devices) »