Story: A Simple Act of Delegation. Chapter 6.

by Jackie J

For the first fifteen minutes Mrs. Ross droned on covering the facts and figures of the Company’s performance with congratulations given to deserving individuals of all ranks within the business.

A brief pause whilst Mrs. Ross sipped on a glass of water her eyes piecing the crowd to focus on a trembling Debbie and she began.

“It would be remiss of me not to mention the sterling efforts during her time with Sapphire and Ross of one of our senior executives Miss Jackson. You will know Miss Jackson from the many times she stood on this very platform to eloquently delivery many a presentation to us all. During her time with the company she worked diligently to build our compliance department along with her team and in no small part her secretary Jane Simpson.”

Mrs. Ross then waxed lyrical for a further ten minutes recounting the milestones of Miss Jackson’s career over the years she had been at the company laying plaudits like confetti. 

Story: A Simple Act of Delegation. Chapter 5.

by Jackie J

Stepping out of her apartment block in her long sweeping Cashmere coat Jane smiled and chuckled at Debbie sat at the wheel of Miss Jacksons car in the short fake fur jacket she insisted Debbie buy during their visit to Pollock’s. Perhaps Debbie assumed that Miss Simpson would jump in the front beside her but opening the rear door she slid into the back seats and opened her lap top without a word.

Whilst Debbie had been squirming and wallowing in her new wardrobe during what remained of the weekend Jane had been scanning the internet. Not for anything work related although in truth perhaps it was? Jane had been reading up on submissive behavior from the mild to the extreme learning how many a closet submissive languish within their own imaginations never to fulfill their true purpose in life to be willingly subjugated. How triggers, be they verbal, physical or situational can invoke such powerful emotions within them that they gradually surrender unknowingly to their inevitable and irrational demise. 

Jane had laughed out loud reading of grown men and women, chief executives, successful professionals visiting dominatrix to satisfy their cravings to be abused. Often sacrificing family, career and wealth to become subservient to Mistresses and Masters some of the pictures of mature men and women diapered sucking dummies in frills or bound and caned made Jane doubt their authenticity believing them salacious, but there were so many examples?  Her more serious reading involved professional psychotherapist studies detailing the path of a submissive to their eventual willing surrender to their deep-seated desires. How like a drug their cravings for more loss of control eventually reaches a tipping point from which there is no return.  A situation from which the greater their degradation and humiliation the more perverse pleasure they obtain until they become nothing more than slaves worshipping those who abuse them. In extreme cases constantly restrained often suited, masked and sexless.

Story: Managing the Heiress. Chapter 1.

by Charles Ryder

Stephen Darnley straightened his uniform tie and checked to make sure his cap was square on his head. He tucked his swagger stick under his arm and rapped on the imposing door. It was answered almost immediately by Jenny the immaculately uniformed maid.

"Won't you come in Captain? I'll tell the young mistress that you're here sir"

Stephen merely nodded and stepped into the baronial hall. My word but it was an impressive room! The furniture positively groaned under the weight of its opulence. Magnificent hunting trophies decorated the walls. Extravagant silks and carpets were strewn carelessly around the huge space. He couldn't begin to fathom what it had all cost. And that was just one room in the vast mansion. His reverie was broken by a rustling behind him. He turned just in time to witness her descending the last few steps of the massive double staircase.

She was a beauty, of that there could be no doubt. Quite small even for a woman, blonde and very slim. She had a heart shaped face, dominated by bright blue eyes. He knew from previous observation that she had little womanly shape. Her breasts were very small and her buttocks almost non-existent. But on the other hand she was only nineteen years old. He had no doubt that she would develop in a most pleasant way.

"Captain Darnley, how good of you to come sir."

Story: A Simple Act of Delegation. Chapter 4.

by Jackie J

The drive to the shopping area was a quiet affair hardly a word spoken. Debbie tugged her coat around her sat in the back of Mrs. Ross’s limousine Mrs. Ross sat facing her with the driver making good progress through the light traffic.

What was happening? Why was Mrs. Ross so calm about the situation? Had she really agreed to be her secretary’s secretary not in some contrived game, some fantasy but for real? Mrs. Ross speaking of Miss Jackson in the third person, Miss Jackson’s reputation had to be saved, Miss Simpson will be taking over from Miss Jackson, Miss Simpson will be Debbie’s boss but she was Debbie, was she? What of Miss Jackson, she was Miss Jackson, no she was Debbie? 

Mrs. Ross chuckled watching the expressions change on Debbie’s face she could almost hear the cogs of Debbie’s confused mind churning. An exposed submissive in conflict and denial, straining to mask her delusions, delusions that had at first seeped then cascaded from her in a torrent fueled by her desires, weakness and the contrivance of her secretary, to become her reality.

Disturbing Debbie’s mental turmoil the Limo came to an abrupt halt at the side of the avenue, the door opened and in slithered a smiling Miss Simpson hutching onto the soft leather upholstery next to Mrs. Ross.

Debbie just stared her mind still in conflict at her situation.

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.