The Slut and the Suits Ch. 01.1 (First)

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You’re probably wondering how a scene like this even comes to be in the first place. To understand, we need to dial the clock back a few days before that Christmas party. This is the story of how I ended up like this in front of all my colleagues.

“Get me the files for Monday, or you’re in trouble,” I said to Clark.

As always, my tone was cold, and my eyes were colder. Maybe the boys thought I was bossy, maybe they thought I was a bitch, but that didn’t matter to me. The only things that mattered to me were two words: optimal performance.

As the office’s resource manager, I was the second highest employee in the management team, second only to Kyle, our boss. Really though, he was more of the intermediary between our office and the Hotel we work for—our job was to take care of the logistical management of a massive hotel complex, and truth be told, it was me who was the boss, more often than not. Kyle passed down goals and objectives to me, and I was the lieutenant who went to the troops, disciplined them, gave them their orders, and made sure they did their job efficiently.

There’s another reason though, for why I was so hard on them. Honestly, I think it’s the only way to be taken seriously and listened to when you’re the only woman in the entire team. That’s right, the only woman. I was surrounded every day by testosterone, not that it was a bad thing. At least half of the boys were cute, and some, like Kyle himself, were hunks all the way. Plus, I liked the whole “being unique,” thing. I think I would have been disappointed if another woman had ever joined the team—I liked feeling special within the team and being the “only one of something”. I don’t know, maybe I’m an attention whore. In any case, my work strategy has always been rooted in a tough, strict and severe attitude, and it has always provided excellent results in the office.

It was a Friday evening, and the work hours were nearing their end. I entered Kyle’s office and found him typing on his computer at his desk. “Fuck me, he’s hot,” I thought to myself. Of course, my face betrayed none of that, and it never had ever since I had started feeling attracted to him a few months prior. He simply had this… gosh, this energy… Stern face, deep voice, and such a polite attitude. He looked like your typical Giorgio Armani model: manly man, and most importantly, a gentleman. Always classy, always calm, always respectful and confident. There were a few other boys in the office just like Kyle. They had this subtle aura of… gosh, how I can I put it? Calm, but commanding presence about them. I was just as cold and tough with them as I was with all the other boys, but these ones… Well… These ones I could imagine giving me orders the way I gave them orders. And the thought of being ordered around by them in certain… specific situations… Let’s just say I enjoyed that thought.

“We need to have a talk,” I said.

“Uh-oh…” he answered. “I know that tone…”

“Yeah, and it’s a pissed off one. I asked you TWO days ago for the 2015 tax reports. I still don’t have them at my desk.”

“Mila, I asked the Hotel to e-mail them, it’s not my fault they didn’t.”

“Then you should have walked over there and gotten them for me.” He was about to say something, but I raised my finger and shut him off before he could start. “I don’t wanna hear anything,” I said sternly. “You asked me to prepare the logistics for the summer season, but I can’t produce a good plan if I have no past results to base myself on. Now, they only trust the tax reports with the higher-ups, so I can’t get them, which means YOU have to. If you don’t bring them to me by Monday, you can say bye-bye to the summer logistics. Understood?”

He nodded. “I will, Mila, promise.”

“Good.” I don’t know if any employee has ever spoken to a higher up the way I did, but again—Kyle was technically higher in the hierarchy, but at the end of the day, I was the one who kept the troops in line.

I was about to leave his office, but he invited me for a cup of coffee in the office kitchen. I didn’t refuse—why would I? So there we were, leaning against the counters and drinking an espresso.

“Are you always like this?” he asked. “Being a leader, dominant…”

I appreciated how he said leader and dominant, not bossy or bitchy. It was one of the reasons why I didn’t mind being the only woman in the office; the boys all respected me completely. Not that they had a choice, given how stern I was…

“At work? Sure. But I’m a pretty chill gal most of the time. Everyone’s got another side to them.”

“What’s yours?”

I smiled behind my coffee cup but didn’t answer. Oh yeah, I had another side to my personality, but it was so different from the one I showed at work that I preferred keeping it secret. When I turned twenty, ten years before, I went through something of a “sexual awakening.” I discovered I was, for lack of a better word… Rather slutty when it came to sexuality. Not the sleeping around type—in fact, sex for the sake of sex mostly bored me and still does. But I liked showing off my body, wearing slutty clothing and makeup, feeling beautiful and confident. In my twenties, I would always perform stripteases for my boyfriend at the time. He’d sit down and watch me dance sensually with only lingerie at first, and then nothing at all.

I also liked playing the part of the submissive, something so different from my workplace personality… I would spend dozens of minutes on my knees just sucking cock and enjoying how dominated it made me feel. I guess the exhibitionist side I had also correlated with that desire for submission: I liked that feeling of humiliation, even degradation, that came from feeling like the one who’s sexualized. It was a complex thought process: sometimes I poured my focus in the confidence and strength it gave me, and other times, I poured my focus into the submissiveness and vulnerability it gave me. Either way, I loved it.

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