[TG] The Boss (Patreon)

Patreon reward for tgstudios - Short story for being an early patron. 

Charles goes from daydreaming about his secretary to being her. 

~

Charles scowled at the ugly curved stone sitting on his desk. His wife had insisted he take saying it would ‘help him centre his energies and visualise life to the fullest’; as if a hunk of rock on his desk would help him make business decisions. He’d married Nancy for her business connections not her brains, an area in which she was seriously lacking. She was constantly going on about chakras and healing vibes and other new age crap that bored him to tears. She had to fill her days somehow though he supposed. At least the stupid crystals and incense she bought didn’t cost nearly as much as the designer shoes and dresses his colleagues spouses seemed so enamoured with.

“Good morning, boss!”

His secretary, Dahlia, entered his office with a warm smile and his mood instantly improved. Dahlia was everything Nancy wasn’t. While Nancy was pretty, serviceable really, Dahlia was gorgeous; she caught they eye of every man in the office the day she came for her interview with her curvaceous figure and flowing red hair. Charles had barely glanced over her resume before hiring her, having spent most of the interview staring at her chest. Something he was sure Dahlia knew about; when she wore shirts that thin and low cut what did she expect? At the very least, she didn’t seem to mind his occasional appreciative gaze even smiling and batting her eyes in response a few times.

Running his fingers along the stone he turned his eyes upwards to where Dahlia now sat at her desk. Typing away contentedly. He appreciated the subtle ride and fall of her bosom as it strained the thin material of her blouse with each inhale. If he squinted, he was sure he could see the outline of her bra through it. He let his mind wander, imagining the feel of that lace against his fingers, what it would feel like to bend her over his desk. He closed his eyes, in his day dream he ran his fingers through that long red hair as he pounded her and made her cry out his name. It was a fantasy he’d had many a time, even while fucking his wife but today it seemed more real. He swore he could even smell her perfume.

Wait.

No, that wasn’t his imagination he really could smell her perfume. That distinctive fragrance of roses and lilacs she always wore. He opened his eyes expecting to find her in front of his desk with some message or paperwork to sign but instead he saw a computer screen. Dahlia’s computer screen. Blinking in confusion he looked around and found himself seated in Dahlia’s chair, his body a few feet away at his own desk, eyes closed in quiet contemplation while stroking that damn stone with his free hand.

What?

In shock he looked down at his body only to find a heavy pair of breasts not far from his face. Not only that but he could feel them; the weight, the way the lace of his bra hugged at them, how the underwire strained to hold them up. He could feel the slight scratch at the clothing’s edge where lace met bare skin but also the soft, plush fabric cupping each boob. At that realisation a whole host of other feelings made themselves known to him; the soft tickling of red hair at his cheek, the slight ache in his feet from the high heels he was now wearing, even the itch of lace between his legs.

He was Dahlia.

Temptation filled him. This had to be some sort of dream, right? So there was no harm in enjoying himself a little. He’d been wondering what it would feel like to touch Dahlia’s body for so long and he wasn’t going to give up this chance. Discreetly, he turned so his back was to…himself. Then with hands shaking with anticipation he slipped a finger into the low V of his blouse.

To his disappointment, the bra was so tight he couldn’t slip his finger far down. He was going to have to find a way to remove it. After deliberating for a few seconds, he leaned back, as if he were stretching, slumping down in his chair ever so slightly so that one hand could slip up the back of his blouse. It was awkward but he managed to wiggle a finger between the clasps to loosen them just enough that the pressure did the rest, bra hooks slipping lose. The support at his front ceased as his breasts sagged slightly with their own weight. Sitting back up again he decided to enjoy the fruits of his labour.

He could see them now that the bra was lose within his shirt, rounded breasts with pink nipples that would be the envy of every woman. Even the most subtle of movements made them jiggle against his chest and he watched in fascination as the nipples hardened in arousal before his very eyes. Gently, he reached a hand in and squeezed the soft flesh. It yielded to his touch perfectly and made a subtle wetness seep between his legs. He could feel the material there now as well and with little trepidation he reached his free hand down under his skirt and rubbed at it. The friction between the panties and his pussy was electric and a small gasp escaped his lips. The panties themselves added a delicious layer of friction to his touch. The lace tinkled the edges of his wet folds as he stroked so that every inch of his pussy was being stimulated at once.

“You’re certainly bold.”

Yanking his hands free Charles spun around to see himself, or his old body at least, leaning forwards over the desk smiling at him.

“I knew you were interested but I didn’t take you for a performer.”

He found himself in stunned silence. That was him up there, were he still in his original body he would have said exactly the same thing had he caught Dahlia feeling herself up in his office. But it couldn’t be him! He was here, in Dahlia, so what the heck was going on?

“No I…I’m not-“

He was at a loss for words. How could he possibly explain this?

“I’m not Dahlia.” He started and the Charles across the room just chuckled.

“Oh, I see, you’re somebody else, huh?” He rose from his chair, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, “Because Dahlia’s a good girl who’d never sleep with her boss.”

“No uh, I-see what happened was-“

He was babbling, never in his life had Charles been lost for words. He always prided himself on being a smooth talker but this situation and his budding arousal was making him flustered.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. These walls are thick.” The other Charles, the boss, soothed, placing a hand on her shoulder, “And I have been wanting to do this for a long time.”

He felt his breath hitch, his breasts bouncing in response without the support of the bra. The boss slid his hand down and cupped the round boob in his hands, running a rough thumb across the nipple and Charles gasped in pleasure. It felt so much better when it was somebody else’s hands on him. Eager for more he quickly unbuttoned the blouse the rest of the way and slid it and the bra over his shoulders to the floor, allowing the boss to grab both his breasts in his strong hands.

He was being seduced by himself. It was completely fucked up but he couldn’t deny it was turning him on. He could feel wetness soaking into his panties as his thighs rubbed together, eager for friction. The boss finally stopped playing with his tits and moved his hands downward, scooping Charles up and placing him on the desk. His deft hands shoving down his skirt till all that remained were those panties, the stain on the front clear as day.

“Looks like you’ve been thinking of me Dahlia.” He growled, almost predatory.

“I-I’m not Dahlia.” Charles protested weakly.

“Of course not, darling.” The boss chuckled, rubbing his fingers into the wet spot on his panties eliciting a started gasp.

“You’re my little whore, aren’t you?”

Charles had never felt so helpless and yet, that turned him on all the more. Even through the material he could feel those rough digits rubbing against his folds. It sent sparks of desire flowing through his core and he couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like against his naked skin. Charles reached forward and grasped onto the man’s arms for support as his hips bucked of their own accord. It felt so good, he didn’t want to stop.

“Yes.” He moaned, “I’m your whore.”

The boss grinned, rewarding his submission by slipping his hands inside his panties. Slowly, torturously, he strokes up and down the folds while his free hand fondled his breasts; Charles saw stars. His whole being felt as though it were alight with desire and yet, he hungered for more. The ache between his legs was growing; an entirely new form of lust was filling his mind with the need to be filled.

His eyes darted down, watching with fascination for a moment as his old body touched his new one. Wetness leaked out of him in response. Then his eyes flicked to the tent forming in the boss’ pants, he was intimately aware of what was there and to his surprise, he wanted it. No, he needed it.

With trembling, desperate hands he reached forward and undid the fly, taking the familiar length in his unfamiliar hands. The boss groaned, thrusting into his fist as it started to pump. It wasn’t enough though, just touching wasn’t going to satisfy the deep ache in his core.

“Please. I-I need you.” His voice came out even more desperate than he’d intended.

The boss didn’t hesitate. With rough hands he lifted his new body up into his arms, carrying him across the room and placing him down against his old desk face first. Firmly, he was pushed down against the wood, ass in the air and he shivered. He was going to get fucked against his own desk. The idea should have been humiliating but the submission only made him wetter. His hard nipples pressed into the wood as the boss leaned against him, hands gripping his new round hips. Then, he thrust in.

There was no gentleness, the boss took him hard and fast, making his whole body slip forward on the polished wooden surface. The movement knocked the air from his lungs and it felt as though his body was on fire in the most wonderful way. His inner walls stretched to accommodate the girth, all his nerves sparking with pleasure as the cock moved in and out of him at a rapid pace. Charles moaned desperately, it almost felt too good and yet it wasn’t enough at the same time.

The boss was slamming into him so hard his hips cut into the desk but he didn’t care. The pleasure of having his G-spot teased without mercy made the pleasure override the pain. The feeling of being held down only excited him further; the helplessness, the submission, the way the boss’ body pinned him down so hard it hurt. it all made the pleasure seem to double. In an effort to steady himself he reached out, one hand grabbed the edge of the desk, the other that visualisation stone. It felt cool under his palm in stark contrast to the heat of his overstimulated body.

He felt a fog enter his mind, the lust in his brain seemed to double and he realised he was starting to feel…more. He could feel his hole being fucked and simultaneously, he could feel himself doing the fucking. A moan escaped both Dahlia’s and his body at the same time. Somehow, he was feeling both their pleasure at once. He could feel his thick cock being squeezed tight by his own inner walls; it was intense, unbearable, pure ecstasy. He lost all sense of who he really was, all he could think about was the pure pleasure assaulting his senses from every angle. He felt his muscles tightening in both forms, careening toward an edge.

The sensations blurred together as they both came; cock pumping and pussy tightening together as they writhed. Unable to fully control either form they kept moving, hips slamming together as they rode through the orgasm. He’d never experienced anything like it, he never wanted it to end. He seemed to cum for what felt like an eternity before finally, the waves subsided and the post coital bliss settled over him. Dahlia’s hand slipped off the rock and suddenly, he was back in his original body, Dahlia below him keening as he slipped out of her.

“I…I don’t know what came over me.” Dahlia said breathily, standing up to face him, “But I have wanted that for so long, Charles.”

Panting heavily, he took in Dahlia’s form; her pupils blown wide, lips wet and pink from where he’d bitten them. He smiled, eyeing the rock on his desk. Maybe he’d keep it after all.