CHAPTER THREE: MEETING THE VP'S
I had waited to go into the office, my first day... well, I giggle, as a secretary... until 9:00 AM per Mr. Nolan's suggestion. That way the office was sure to be open upon my arrival. I am carrying a cardboard box of personal items for my desk. I awkwardly got the door open, crossed the waiting area and placed the box and my purse on the reception desk that would shortly be mine. I looked around the office area, remembering the images and impressions of my visits last week. Wow, only last week?
I took a deep breath and released it. I smoothed my dress down my body. I smiled. I was wearing one of the dresses Mr. Nolan purchased for me. It was the short slip-dress and the thin, silky material clung to my body. I can see my excited nipples pressing against the fabric. Mr. Nolan liked this dress on me, so...
With another deep breath, I head down the short hall on the left. I passed the glass-walled conference room and saw two men sitting huddled over a conference phone. They both looked my way as I passed. I knocked on the partially open door of Mr. Nolan's office.
"Aw... Megan, come... come."
He was up and around his desk before I was halfway into his office. I was surprised when he took me in his arms and kissed me deeply. We've certainly done much more, but this was his office. His hand roamed over my back and butt. When we parted, he said, "No bra and a thong. Good, girl. And, we did well in choosing that dress." I smiled. He chose it, so... After sitting behind his desk and indicating for me to sit in one of the chairs in front of him, "I don't suppose that would be a customary way for an employee to be greeted by her employer, but..."
I finished for him, "... but I'm not a customary employee."
He laughed. "Another night to consider you decision and what you're getting into... any new regrets, questions, concerns..." I shook my head smiling at him. "Was the weekend too..."
"The weekend was too wonderful for words, sir."
"Excellent, then." He opened the center drawer of his desk and slid an envelope across the desk surface. I reached out and took it. Inside was a security card and a Corporate Card. I looked at him. "The billing comes to the company. Use it for any clothing, accessories, whatever you need to dress and act the part for you job. You remember where we went shopping?" I nodded. "Don't be shy about using it." I knew my thong was getting wet. It occurred to me that this may well be a condition I might find myself in fairly regularly now. "The security card will gain you access to any of our facilities, though, I suspect you'll only be there with one of us from this office. It will, however, also unlock the door to this office. I'll show you how to disable and enable the lock." He then spent time going over more details and routines. "Other details will come as we go."
"Thank you, sir. I really do appreciate this opportunity."
He smiled, "Are you speaking about the secretary job or..."
I blushed, again. "I was in the mindset of the secretary job, sir, but... yes... that, too." Now, I was sure my thong was beyond damp.
He watched me for several moments. Then, "This is one of those irregular times when all five of us are in the office at the same time, so I have called an informal meeting in the conference room," he indicated outside his door, "shortly to introduce you." He considered me, again. "Just wondering the best way to create the most impact in doing that." Most impact? One way popped into my head quickly. "Were you able to formalize the document we drafted over the weekend?"
"Yes, sir. I have it printed. It is with my stuff on my desk." I smiled broadly and he gave me a curious look. "Oh, sorry, sir... 'my desk'... that just... I don't know... has such a strong implication beyond starting a new job." I was blushing, again. He smiled at that. We had talked over the weekend (in-between fucking) about so much of my feelings and the implication of the job, including my recognition of issues about giving up control and being controlled. Then he explained how he wanted to introduce me. I smiled nervously, but there was no way I was considering anything but moving forward, as outrageous as that seemed at that moment of realization.
I stayed in his office until it was time for the meeting. He went across the hall alone into the glass-walled conference room. It was only a few moments before he returned to his office door. I didn't know what he said to them in that time, but as I walked into the room behind him, there singular focus was on me. Mr. Nolan sat at the head of the table closest to the door. Two men were seated on each side of the table that had chairs for eight total. I took my position next to Mr. Nolan while remaining standing.
Mr. Nolan introduced each of the men around the table: Reggie Furman, VP of Blackened, the interracial video and pictorial production and website; Jason Donald, VP of DarkLove, the interracial dating site; Dave Samuels, VP of Finance; and Pat Wasson, VP of legal and HR. All were black, as I already had surmised. A shiver went through my body as Mr. Nolan calmly explained that he had just hired me to fill the open secretarial position. Then, after looking once more into my eyes, he explained the rest of what this new position would entail. His voice was calm and casual, like he was discussing some business matter. The other men, however, shifted in their chairs and their eyes scanned over my clothed, petite body.
Then, Mr. Nolan got into the heart of it. He asked me to hand out the document I had prepared, explaining to his company officers that all of us must understand and agree to it. I went around the table handing a copy of the document to each. Once I was back to Mr. Nolan, there was only the original document inside the manila folder and I placed it on the surface of the table, prepared for the next instruction. The men were glancing at the document, then looked to Mr. Nolan and me. Mr. Nolan smiled, now having their full attention. He turned in the swivel chair and pushed a few feet from me. That was my cue.
The slip-dress was almost a nothing garment. Because adventurous women had sought out pretty versions of slips to wear in public as a dress, this manufacturer produced a line of dresses made out of the same type of fabric but formed more to the body, especially to the breasts and hips. Mine fit like a glove, even considering my smallish breasts. I crossed my arms at the bodice and pulled the garment up and over my head. Standing in only a thong, stockings, and heels I carefully placed the dress on a side chair against the glass wall. I made something of a show of bending over to place the dress down to display my nearly naked ass to the men. I returned to the head of the table and met each of the men's gaze before bending to push the thong over my hips until it dropped to the carpeted floor. I turned my back to Mr. Nolan, bent to pick it up without bending my knees and felt his hand on my ass. I stopped, bent over and the thong in my fingers, parted my feet about a foot, and felt his fingers slip between my thigh and stroke my wet pussy.
I then stood before the men in only stockings and heels. I shivered as I returned the gaze from each of the men knowing the implication of that act and what it meant for my near future, at least. Mr. Nolan then moved his chair closer and I sat in his lap as he had planned. One hand immediately cupped a breast and began fondling it as the other hand held up his copy of the document. He told the other men to follow along as he read from the document, which would require signed acceptance and compliance:
