Dominating the Boss 53 (Patreon)

Umi left work early, a little mercy since it was her first day — after a lengthy stay in the bathroom, removing evidence of what had happened — while I finished both my lunch and my paperwork, leaving me nothing to do. 

I decided to visit Natalie. After all, no matter what, she was still my boss, right?

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I walked to her room. Brenda was sitting in front of her office, fixing her nails. She greeted me with a pout. “First day with a new secretary, and you’re already neglecting me,” she complained playfully. 

“Nonsense,” I said as I caressed her cheek. “Just give her a few days to settle, and then I’ll need your help as well.” 

“Good,” she said. “She needs the help. It’s not even a full day, and she can barely walk.” 

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. “So, is a boss lady in her office?” 

“Yes, with strict instructions not to be disturbed,” Brenda said, matching my smirk. She knew how ineffective a statement like that would have been for me. I said nothing as I opened the door. 

Natalie was on the couch, laying on her side, looking exhausted. Her eyes were firmly closed. “I said I don’t want any visitors,” she said, thinking it was Brenda. 

“Even me,” I said. 

Her eyes popped open immediately, with no little amount of panic … and anger. “Nathan,” she said, her voice showing the same conflict. 

I might have thought of retreating if our balance of power wasn’t completely warped to my benefit, both in the office and in her home. Instead, I walked forward and sat in the seat she just emptied. “Tell me, beautiful. Why the anger?” 

She let out a growl, but to my surprise, followed it by unzipping her skirt, letting it drop down. Hardly a punishment, as I looked at her mostly naked ass — the g-string she wore covered nothing — but to my surprise, I saw several red marks. 

Ones that I didn’t make, yet she blamed me for it. 

It took a few seconds to connect the dots. “Jenny?” I asked. 

“Yes, Jenny, my girlfriend, who was challenging enough to keep sated with her wild hormones, before an idiot decided to introduce her to bondage,” Natalie said, revealing the source of her anger. 

“And, since she’s pregnant, you can’t even ask her to take turns,” I said with a chuckle. “Poor little girl.” 

“Don’t laugh, and don’t mock me,” she growled, trying to look angry, but it made her look even cuter as she struggled to evoke her past aura of control … and fail spectacularly. 

“Really, what would you do,” I said as I pulled her on my lap, though I made sure to do it gently so as not to hurt her more. She wasn’t exactly suffering in pain, but a little pampering wouldn’t be amiss. I texted Brenda to pick an ointment from the pharmacy before I turned my attention on her. 

“Jerk,” she said, but she still leaned against my chest. After months of a tumultuous relationship, we were close in every way that counted, enough that she leaned against my chest for comfort. 

However, as her grip tightened around me, I could feel that the issue with Jenny wasn’t the thing that actually bothered her. Her grip was too intense for that. After some thought, I realized exactly what she was concerned about, but I didn’t open my mouth until Brenda arrived to drop the ointment, smart enough not to make a comment about why Natalie was on my lap without a skirt while hugging me. 

Smart. 

Once I had it, Natalie said nothing, just lay on my lap obediently while I took a dab and started spreading the relaxing cream to her ass. She let out a relaxed sigh, even though I knew the pain wasn’t intense enough to earn that reaction. 

She was clearly enjoying the comfort. “So, do you want me to visit tonight and help you sate your sexy pregnant girlfriend,” I said. 

“Yes please,” she answered readily, not even bothering to deny needing my help on that subject. Yet, she was still tense, showing that she had yet to tell me what really bothered her. 

I said nothing, knowing that, even now, her pride was strong enough to be troublesome if I approached the issue wrong. Though, admittedly, I couldn’t help but feel entertained. When I first started my little game, I didn’t imagine myself helping her with her emotional problems. 

At least the view was still excellent. 

Knowing she was weak against a good massage — a fact I had discovered quite a long time ago, and used to my benefit several times — I let my fingers drift down once I finished spreading ointment, and started massaging her thighs. 

She said nothing while my fingers danced on her legs gently, trying to come up with a good way to start the conversation. “So, have you tried talking about what’s bothering you with Jenny?” I asked. 

“Of course not,” she answered, her voice sharp and slippy, conveying her feeling that she didn’t want to talk about the topic in the slightest. “She’s already dealing with the pregnancy. How could I stress her further,” she said. 

At least, she admitted that she had a problem, which was a step in the right direction. I took a deep breath, enjoying her frustrated grumble as much as I would enjoy a full success. It was progress. For a while more, I said nothing, enjoying the sight of her growing patch of wetness. 

“How about you talk to me?” I said as I let my finger slip over her wetness, gently caressing it. 

“What, so that you can mock me about my incompetence,” she said, though her tone made it clear that she wasn’t really concerned about that, but just lashing out. 

Not something a behavior I would have found acceptable under ordinary circumstances, but after everything, she earned enough credit to be converted into mercy, so I decided to ask in a way she would have been more comfortable answering. “Well, how about this. Tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll see if we can come to a deal. But believe me, it won’t be cheap.” 

She didn’t answer immediately, but I could feel that she lost some of her tenseness. She was far more willing to accept my help as long as she could pay back immediately. 

It was progress. 

I didn’t bother to hide my smirk as I gazed down, enjoying her trembling body as I continued to massage her wetness, while she still faced away, unable to see my expression. My other hand, on the other hand, started to move, and soon found the edge of her top, slowly pulling it up, revealing more of more of her beautiful skin. 

It was only interrupted by her bra, but considering it was a sexy lacy piece, it was hardly a bother. 

She said nothing as she raised her arms, allowing me to pull off her top, comfortable with her partial nudity even in her office. Not a surprise considering everything we had done. 

After a while, changed her position, and sat on my lap. The ointment I rubbed on her ruined my pants somewhat, but I knew from the experience that it was nothing dry cleaning wouldn’t fix, so I didn’t let it bother me. 

She hugged me once again, but not before reaching for her back and freeing her breasts from her bra. I expected her to at least remove my jacket, but instead, she snuggled inside. I understood what she was trying to do a few seconds later. 

She was looking for comfort, one that she found when she was dressed in nothing but a wet g-string while I was still dressed in a full suit. She was trying to convince herself that I wasn’t actually just helping her, but we were making a deal. 

It took all I had to keep my chuckle back, knowing that it would shatter everything I managed to build, but it was amusing that I had to work hard to offer her help. 

Though, as she stayed silent, I couldn’t help but enjoy her radiating beauty. I didn’t tell her that, as it would run contrary to the excuse she was doing her best to create for herself. Instead, I slipped my hand between her legs, a finger slipping into her core, triggering a spectacularly beautiful moan. 

I didn’t take it slow, but drilled her with two fingers until she was at the edge — a destination that she reached quickly after the extended massage — before stopping and letting her catch her breath … then repeating thrice more, until the sweetness of the edge turned tantalizingly bitter. 

Distracting her from the pointless determination that kept her from asking for help. 

“I … I’m afraid about the corporate reorganization project,” Natalie admitted. 

“What project?” I asked, surprised, which earned her surprised gaze. 

“Don’t you know? The CEO had just launched a nationwide reorganization that will change the whole branch structure.” 

“I didn’t receive the mail. Don’t forget. Officially, I’m just a sales manager, not a part of the upper management,” I reminded. “Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what’s going on so I see if I can …” I started, about to finish questioning whether I could help or not, then remembered exactly how my night with Dorothy had been concluded. “ … determine the exact price you have to pay for my help.” 

Hearing the confidence in my tone, Natalie smiled for the first time since I arrived at her office.