Story: A Simple Act of Delegation. Chapter 3.

by Jackie J

Deborah unbuttoned her trench coat and hung it on the rack where Jane would normally place her coat in the outer office and having changed from her driving flats for the heels Jane had given her sat at her secretary’s desk.

When Jane arrived, Deborah stood and smiled her secretary looked so different dressed in her smart business suit and Deborah’s comments were genuine.

“Miss Simpson you look lovely this morning.”

Jane felt empowered in her outfit and smiled

“Why thank you Deborah and I have something for you.”

Jane giggled and stepped behind what was her desk to fix a pair of cheap dangly earrings to her secretary’s ears.

Deborah just stood weak-kneed whilst Jane removed Deborah’s diamond studs and secured the earrings in place.

Jane chuckled.

Story: A Simple Act of Delegation. Chapter 2.

by Jackie J

The two young women left the office block, Deborah a short time after Jane. One glided her company auto from the garage below the offices, the other sat cramped on the metro. Both called to collect ingredients for their dinner and stepped into their apartments, one company-owned and spacious without being ostentatious the other adequate. Both showered, changed and ate the meal they had prepared for themselves.  Whilst there were many similarities there were also many differences especially in lifestyles. But when both retired for the evening, they both shared the same thoughts albeit from different perspectives.

Sat back on her pillows Jane giggled thumbing through a magazine reflecting on the strange day past. Miss Jackson calling her Miss Simpson? Not challenging her for using her first name Deborah? Then her boss preparing and bringing her coffee, doing her own typing and some filing, being allowed to sit in her boss’s chair at her desk to complete an important project? Flicking out the night light and snuggling down under the duvet Jane chuckled imagining her boss wearing a mini and heels to fulfill her secretarial duties and herself sat in a smart business suit and, as sleep overtook her, wondered what tomorrow would bring?

Story: A Simple Act of Delegation. Chapter 1.

by Jackie J

Deborah Jackson, a graduate of a good university, had progressed well at Sapphire and Ross, a leading business consultancy in the city.  Sat at her desk in her smart business suit she stared blankly at the screen of her PC. Deborah had been tasked to personally oversee the implementation and transition of the new software for the company and clients to comply with revised VAT reporting dictated by HMRC, Making Tax Digital. Apart from the introduction of new and unfamiliar software the migration of data from the old system looked an absolute nightmare.  When the task was raised, at the last board meeting, the young and ambitious Deborah, always wishing to please the company’s owner Mrs. Ross, volunteered without hesitation to take on the work. Deborah however was now regretting what she had agreed to do. Technically she had mastered the software program but the restoring and the migrating of the historic data was going to be a slog and mind numbingly boring.

Deborah smiled at Jane when her secretary entered her office carrying her mail and morning coffee Jane wiggling from the doorway to place the cup and mail down on her desk.

Jane Simpson, only three years younger than Deborah at twenty-one was the product of the local college, had she also benefitted from an education at a prestigious and privileged university she too may have been seeking a partnership at Sapphire and Ross.  Jane, whilst no less qualified than Deborah, was however restricted to the more menial and mundane tasks of being the secretary to Miss Jackson. Jane wasn’t unhappy in her role but harbored a degree of resentment at Deborah’s superior attitude but never let it show.

Story: New Employee. Chapter 41.

 by BigBird74

Just how vulnerable was I? It appeared extremely. I could try to get to my father. I could run from the whole ghastly situation. Anything would be better than simply waiting and sinking further into this new life! But I sat still. For the moment it felt that my options had run out and I was safest staying just where I was. As an undocumented worker, I had no money, nowhere to go. I did not even have an official identity. All my life I had received the very best money could buy. Everything had been so simple and natural, one easy, obvious option after the other. I was totally unprepared for anything involving such a wrenching dilemma like this. I felt dizzy, disoriented and very afraid.

I obsessively scanned the same pages in the newspaper several times, hoping to gleam something new, a ray of hope, perhaps, something I had misread earlier. But, of course, nothing changed and the situation remained bleak. As much as I focused on my father’s fate, I also needed to find out what had happened to my sister. Had she been caught up in the same imbroglio? There was nothing mentioned in the paper. If she had any part in the scandal, it was not immediately obvious. The fear or flight battle taking part inside of me then flared back into life: I could go and find her! At least to see where she might be? It had been months of zero contact and I needed to know what had happened. The impulsive side to my character, the one that had led me to this point, again took hold of the reins. I knew that on a normal day Katherine’s assistant would return after several hours. That gave me more than enough time to work my way to my sister’s apartments, several blocks away. I grabbed a light coat from my former wardrobe and tried to cover my ill-fitting, drab uniform as best I could and headed out of the building to see.

Story: New Employee. Chapter 40.

by BigBird74

Katherine’s assistant had gone on something of a purge. A number of the people I dealt with on a daily basis had either been transferred or removed from their position. Doormen, handymen, even suppliers to the building, all had been changed. The effect, no doubt, was to surround me with people that could never suspect who I was. The powerlessness I suddenly felt gave rise to a familiar, delicious tingle between my thighs. It is amazing how those three words, ‘who I was’, could elicit such delight. I had found it increasingly wasteful to fret about the question. The anxiety I had experienced at the start of this adventure had given way to tiredness and exhaustion. As time ran away from weeks to months, I had found it difficult to even start contemplating turning back without eliciting a degree of horror at what that would involve. My exit from this life depended on one person and she showed no signs of changing anything.

As well as attending to the lobby and the various communal areas of the building, my duties extended to cover my former penthouse. Katherine’s assistant now lived here and was revelling in the luxury that it offered her. She had taken to wearing many of my former clothes and jewels, and for all intents and purposes, was living a similar life to the one I had vacated. I assumed that both of us got a thrill from my servile role in my former home. At least I was sure at the outset, though as we grew used to the situation, things turned a little more routine. The dominatrix-style sessions we had enjoyed previously became rarer and, eventually ceased.

I am not sure whether she did it on purpose or not, but Katherine’s assistant had the habit of leaving important papers on her desk when she knew I would be tidying upstairs. I felt she did it as a way of taunting me about my former life, reminding me that Katherine was now something else: a fiction, less real now than Marta. How else could one explain printed emails for goodness sake! Most often they were emails from ‘Katherine’ to her, granting her privileges or roles within the company that elevated her yet higher.

Story: An Invite From a Neighbour

By Jackie J

Following a significant promotion at his work Mark Jacobs and his wife Pauline had moved into the exclusive suburb of Rockford just outside the city of Longton.  Large houses stood in their own grounds many gated, populated by rich couples. Over time Pauline had got to know most of her neighbours whilst out walking or during lunches at the golf and country club which was situated just a short drive from her home. 

Whilst most of the fine houses were inhabited by couples Miss Janice Partington was the exception on the tree lined avenue on which Pauline now lived. Janice was single, beautiful and with a figure that was surely the envy of all the ladies living in the neighbourhood. With no visible means of support, it was a mystery how Janice managed to live such a lavish lifestyle. None of Pauline’s neighbours seemed keen to discuss the mysterious Janice and Pauline put this down to petty jealousy of her good looks, perfect figure and financial independence.

Pauline was quite surprised when she received a note inviting her to meet with Janice and take lunch with her. Pauline had only been on nodding terms with this vivacious woman and in the twelve months since Pauline had arrived in the area they had hardly spoken.

Story: Window Shopping. Chapter 5.

by Jackie J

My only possession being the locket that my princess had thrust into my hand before we were separated and, tempted as I was to sell it, I couldn’t part with it. With the help of the girls who had sheltered me I managed to get a job in a clothing factory. Long hours, hard work and poor pay but it was better than being on the streets. After many months and pleading I managed to get to visit my princess. I cried when I saw her. Gone her beautiful clothes, her hair cut short she had lost a lot of weight and looked haggard in her prison fatigues. We held hands through the bars and both shed more tears.

I told her to be strong and that I would wait for her and I visited her every week on Fridays. I always brought gifts for the guards, cigarettes, chocolate whatever I could afford. Not everyone supported the coup, although they could not show it, and some of the guards were of this persuasion.  This gave me the opportunity to spend a little longer than permitted during my visits and smuggle in the odd luxury for my princess, such as soap and toiletries.

My work at the factory made me smile sewing in labels for major stores in the UK, Marks and Spencer, Gap Next along with less familiar names.  I was no expert, having never set foot in a factory before, but six months in and with the few obvious suggestions I made, it resulted in my promotion to supervisor of accessories and thread.  The additional money helped and I managed to get a room to myself at the hostel.