The Conference, Part Fourteen

Author's Note: This is the last installment! The whole story is condensed into one post on my SubscribeStar.

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“I’m your obedient toy, Ms. Larissa.”

One month later, the same words I said to her on camera were what I said to her whenever she felt like I needed a reminder. ‘Sex doll’ was another, as was stating that I was a good boy. Then there was the title that I addressed her with 75% of the time, whenever it was just the two of us. Obviously, I couldn’t call her that in front of coworkers, though I did have to catch myself occasionally due to how habitual the more submissive way of talking to her was becoming.

Larissa got the promotion, because why wouldn’t she? After setting me up and doing all of our presentations solo, the numbers alone were more than enough to secure the position for her. She did split the commissions with me, technically, but did so in a way that made it look like she was the reason we landed the bigger clients. No one from our office found out that I wasn’t present at all, as it didn’t benefit her to throw me under the bus like that. Not when I was a good salesman who she now directly supervised, meaning that all of my successes would indirectly work in her favor as well.

For all intents and purposes, I was also her personal assistant. Driving her to work in the morning, where she sat in the back seat most days to make it feel less like carpooling and more like I was her driver, save for the rare occasions when she treated me to a blowjob on the way. Making a coffee run, or a lunch run, or sometimes staying late to help her with a project that usually involved getting underneath her desk when she felt like taking a break.

And, per her final teasing promise, we fucked every now and then as well. Sometimes in her office after hours, sometimes in a closet in a secluded part of the building. Every single time, the experience ended by her meeting my eyes and saying, “Get out, doll.” No intimacy, no cooldown, nothing. As soon as she was done using me to take the edge off and/or to reassert our dynamic, I was to get dressed and leave her be.

The thing was, Larissa really wasn’t making me do anything. Yes, she had a handful of damning pics/videos of me, but she never so much as implied that she would use them outside her personal pleasure of looking back at when this first started between us. The reason I kept allowing her to treat me like this was because of the reluctant pleasure it gave me. I still hated her guts, as well as how she had totally screwed me–literally and figuratively–out of the promotion I had been competing with her for. And yet, I couldn’t help but get aroused every time she so much as walked up to me and demanded that I go fetch her coffee like a good boy.

Her dominance was subtle, yet so effective. And from a physical standpoint, her body was amazing. As badly as I wanted to tell her to fuck off, to get back to the rivalry energy we used to have, I couldn’t help but go along with her games. Finally, there was the allure of sneaking around, as Larissa kept us purely on a professional schedule. The closest we got to fooling around outside of work was in my car, or after 5 PM if she had me stay to help her with whatever. Our personal lives were personal; any messages I received at home were on par with what others would get if there happened to be a time sensitive issue or, in most instances, slight adjustments to each morning’s pick-up time from one of us.

“That’s right,” Larissa said, smirking as she sat back in the chair that was supposed to be mine. In the office that was supposed to be mine. Instead, I was stuck out in the main area with everybody else in my department. “You’re so well trained. So obedient. My sex doll, yes?”

“Yes, Ms. Larissa,” I flushed. Though the door behind me was closed, it still made me nervous to talk about this stuff when we could be seen but not heard.

“Mm hmm,” she hummed, “Well, you may not know this, being a boy and all. But the thing about girls is, we don’t like to share our dolls.”

Umm. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. At this point, it had been clearly established that we were not a couple. I didn’t see how exclusivity fit into any of that. “Okay?” I replied. If she was going somewhere with this, she’d have to connect the dots for me.

“Here’s what I think,” she said, her eyes flitting down to my crotch for a moment before glancing upward again, “That dildo between your legs? It’s my toy to play with, not yours. From now on, I want you locked up whenever I’m not using that part of you. What do you say, sex doll?”

As in, chastity? I had never done that before. And this was a completely different twist on the word ‘toy,’ as she had only ever described me that way. Not my manhood.

When I didn’t respond right away, she sighed. “I was just talking about how well trained you were. What are you supposed to say when I tell you to do something?”

“Yes, Ms. Larissa,” I muttered. We had gone over that countless times since returning from our trip.

“Good boy,” she said, “Let’s try this again. You are my sex doll. Your cock is my dildo. When I’m not playing with it, there’s no reason for you to be hard. Yes?”

I wasn’t necessary against exploring in such a way, but she was totally putting me on the spot. And, like usual, I could feel myself stirring slightly simply from the combination of her tight dress shirt and the nonchalant bossy attitude, not to mention the inappropriate subject in the middle of a work day. “Yes, Ms. Larissa,” I hesitantly said. After a month of this, it was a difficult habit to break.

“Excellent,” Larissa grinned, “This is going to be fun. Now be a good boy and get back to work.”

Leaving me to wonder when this latest development would happen, and what exactly it would entail beyond the obvious, she sent me back to my desk. 

No matter what, we both knew she secured a lot more than the promotion when she first tied me up. And now that Larissa was getting comfortable in her role, not that I knew it yet, this was just one of many ways she planned on further exerting her dominance and control.