Alone with Barb – Office FemDom

That Saturday morning the only other car in the lot was Barb’s. Ella must be out of town. Great. She could have warned me that Barb would take her place today. Guess she thought I needed to be taken down a notch.

I walked in with a sense of dread.

I punched in just before 8am. On time. Barb couldn’t jump me for that at least.

“You should have gotten here early.”, was the first thing she said to me. “Coffee needs to be made and you need to do that on your own time.”

“I always make the coffee on company time.” I said.

“Not while I’m running things.” She said.

“You don’t run things around here. Ella does. Ella’s the boss.” I said.

“Not today she’s not. I’m in charge and things’ll be done my way.” she said firmly. “You got here too late to make the coffee on your own time. Fine. Now quit arguing with me and do it.”

I felt relieved to have our first confrontation of the day out of the way.

She might have tried to make nice with me, while we’re alone, hoping to sway me to her side. That would present a real conflict for me.

The image of me going down on Barb haunted my thoughts continually. Despite her mean fantasies of punking me out I still found her attractive. Always padding around in her bare black stockings… the gleam of her gold ankle bracelet shining through… the sight of those long legs moving with such purpose … all of it generated such a feeling of warmth inside me.

In my heart of hearts I wanted badly to bury my face between her legs and eat her, hair and all.

I admired her lack of pretension. She didn’t quibble. She told me -flat out — she meant to own me. She was honest. When she said she wanted to break me down and take my manhood and own me, I knew that she meant it. I could feel it. And she knew she wouldn’t need a strap-on to make it happen. But I couldn’t let that happen without turning the rest of my life into chaos. I had to resist.

If the others knew I had any thoughts at all of going down on Barb they’d brand me a traitor. Luckily for me, women always project their own feelings on to others. Their hatred of Barb was such that they couldn’t imagine anyone being attracted to her no matter what her physical charms might be. It prevented them from admitting that she even HAD any physical charms. Also, luckily for me, Barb’s continual carping had the effect of throwing cold water on my spontaneous fantasies. She could screw up a wet dream.

Working at close quarters with her would be volatile. Both emotionally and sexually. Out on street Barb wouldn’t look twice at a guy like me. But in here I was a means of getting payback and a boost in status. Were I to succumb to her she would have the currency to humble the girls. She would have something to rub in their faces. It might not put her on a par with Ella in Ella’s eyes, but with the girls it might. And with regard to Ella, it would certainly represent a coup of sorts. I would definitely have to quit. The girls would hate me as much as they hated Barb.

If it were simply a matter of losing this job, I would go down on Barb in a second. In terms of money, or any other tangible thing, it meant nothing. The girls were the main thing when all was said and done.

Ella could find a new bitch easily enough. But Joan, Molly, Ashley, Vicki and I had developed a camaraderie the likes of which I had never experienced. The thought of hurting them and making their work place into a place of dread bothered me deeply.

I took my time getting the coffee together. The longer I stayed away from Barb, the better.

This morning there really wasn’t much to do. Ella usually left for her run right after opening up. When she came back we spent all our time working on her. That was the Saturday routine.

Backing up the database and filing reports would take me only an hour of so. Today I would try to stretch it but there was, at most, only two hours of work and four hours to fill.

I dawdled with the coffee and anxiously looked at the clock. 8:15. It’s going to be a long morning, I thought.

At 8:30 I set the coffee to brewing. Then I went to the bathroom. Barb couldn’t say much about that, could she? I was allowed to use the bathroom, right?

Just sitting there was worse than going out on the floor and finding busy work. The stall walls seemed to close in on me. After a few minutes I gave up and went back out.

The coffee was done. I grabbed my cup and slowly poured the coffee. Today everything would be done in slow motion.

It was almost 8:40 and I hadn’t been to my desk yet. I was getting good at this.

Then Barb burst in.

“What the hell is going on here? It’s almost 9 O’clock and you haven’t done a damn thing!” she sounded upset.

Par for the course.

“I had to use the bathroom.” I said. “For an hour?” “I made coffee… it hasn’t been an hour.” “You’re pushin’ it, Joe.” she said. “Bring me a coffee, then get to work.” “You can get you own coffee.” I said “I bring coffee for Ella, not for you.” “Today I AM Ella.” she said loud and clear. I blanched. The literal implications of that statement struck anxiety in my heart. How completely did she mean to play Ella’s role anyway? I was flustered.

“Okay. I’ll bring you coffee TODAY. But that’s it.” trying not to sound like I caved in. I didn’t know what else to do. “Cream and sugar.” was all she said as she turned and walked away.

As I stirred the cream and sugar into her coffee my cock began to harden. My mind was a chaotic jumble of associations. She conned me into bringing her coffee. It’s only for one day right? She was the boss today right? Why shouldn’t I bring the boss coffee? Still, something didn’t seem right.

I felt like I was betraying Ella.

Maybe I should just go down on Barb and get it over with. No, no way.

I’ll just leave if she pulls anything, or if the stress gets too much for me. On Monday I’ll tell Ella I got sick and went home that’s all. I should leave right now.

But I didn’t.

Her cubicle never seemed so far. My mind raced. My heart pounded. I was going to fall apart. I couldn’t breathe! Finally, I made it.

“Here’s your coffee.” it came out as I whisper I was so nerved up. “What?” she asked, with irritation. “I just said ‘Here’s your coffee’.” “So I see…”, She put the cup to her lips, took a sip, and leaned back in her chair.

I stood there.

She put her feet up on the desk. Crossed at the ankle, her legs seemed to reach across the room. I couldn’t help but look. “You’ve got stuff to do, right?” she said, looking up at me with eyes as soft as I’d ever seen them. I think she was sizing me up. “Yeah.” “Well, you know what to do, right?” She said, looking right into me.

I flinched.

“I guess so.” I said.

She swiveled her chair to face me as placed one foot on the floor while the other remained on the desk, leaving a space of more than 4 feet between her knees.

The span of her legs was glorious. Instantly, the image of me washing my face in her crotch flashed in my mind.

“Then get to it.” She said.

My head gave a quick feint toward her crotch as if my body had to relieve itself of some quantity of tension of it’s own accord; silently confessing my want.

I turned and bolted for my desk.

She chuckled and called after me, “Joe, make sure I have plenty of coffee every twenty minutes or so.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I should have walked out the door.

But, I’d passed the test hadn’t I?

I could last till noon.