Wet Workdays - Sex Stories

Wet Workdays

... do that!” I hissed at her, astounded at her audacity. She grinned wide and held up a sheet of paper; she had apparently expected such a thing. There, in McCormack’s immaculate hand, I could read that she very much could do that. ‘As I am barely in the office anymore, I hereby grant Marietta Miller full disciplinary and financial authority, to act in my stead in all questions regarding the handling of employees and steering of the company.’ It went on a bit further into legal mumbo-jumbo, but the bad thing was that it was dated, signed and stamped by the law department. I handed it back to her with a slightly shaking hand. “No breaks, and ask before you take step outside, clear?” She apparently got off on getting one over me. “Yes, Marietta.” I hung my head. “I think, given the circumstances, you should address me as Ms. Miller, don’t you think?” We had always been using given names here in the office. I swallowed hard. “Yes, Ms. Miller.” The first two hours, I steamed. The next two I was filled with cold rage. But then it was time for lunch break. My stomach felt empty and my co-workers sent me pitying looks before they hurried outside. The worst thing, though, was that my bladder made itself felt. I tried to press my thighs together and work on, but that only worked for half an hour, then the need to pee grew urgent. I swallowed my pride and walked on wooden legs to Marietta’s desk that throned at the end of the office, twice as wide as everyone else’s. I stood for a good ...

... minute, but she acted as if she didn’t notice me, even after I had cleared my throat. She was enjoying this far too much. “Ms. Miller?” I finally asked. “Yes, Allie?” “May I step outside for five minutes?” I felt like I was a schoolgirl again, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment and rage. “Why would you need to do that?” The nasty grin on her lips made it clear that she was all too aware of my motives, but she played dumb. “I need to pee,” I told her bluntly. She waited, baiting me, looking at me for a good minute while the rage inside me grew. “No, you may not,” she finally declared. I thought I had misheard. “What?” Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. “I said that, no, you may not go outside to pee.” “But…” “Now stop wasting my time. You can pee after work.” She turned back to her computer screen and ignored me. I felt embarrassed like hell. Who did the hussy think she was? But I remembered the text of McCormack’s letter. If I let things come to a head, she could even fire me, and that was not something I really could afford. I slunk back to my desk, my cheeks flaming red, and swore to pay her back some day. By the time lunch break was over, I was bopping one knee up and down. And hour later, the pressure got almost unbearable, and I had to flex my knees out only to clench them back together to keep from peeing. “Mar… Ms. Miller! Please!” I shouted through the office, desperation shaking my voice. “Yes, Allie?” She looked at me with an amused grin. My co-workers, ...