Emma’s Stiletto Seduction Pt. 28

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Trans Emma takes office Dicktation

This is a continuing story, my journal, please see :

Emma’s stiletto seduction 01 to Pt. 27 for prior entries.

Direction, thoughts, comments welcome.

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“It’s been a week now, how do you think she is doing?” Asked Charles…

There are times in life where you have to give yourself a break. To step away from things, switch off your internet. To sit, quietly, and simply allow yourself to think.

In the course of meeting people, good and bad, I have done this process quite regularly, using this time to help answer questions like, “how on earth did you get into this predicament?”

And importantly, if I wanted to get out of said predicament, how to do so.

It had been only eight days since my partner, David, had to fly across the Atlantic to New York on business. His office had not asked, but rather instructed his absence.

David and I had previously worked together and coexisted very happily. However, after our affair had become common knowledge to his former wife, unfortunately our circumstances were forced to “undergo a permanent adjustment”. That’s how David phrased, much to my annoyance.

And things did change, or rather they changed for me at least. I had been at the company for over ten years and during that period they had been incredibly supportive of me and my transition to become Emma.

For the first time in forever, I was settled. I had a steady partner, a career and a home. Things that I had not even dare fantasise about. They were for other people, not for the likes of me.

If you are in that situation right now, my advice would be to enjoy it. Appreciate it, because things can change in an instant. Especially, as I found to my cost, if you lead anything but a normal milquetoast lifestyle.

Even with the hostility Davids’ ex wife had created, It was impossible for my employer to quietly sack me, after all transitioning and finding a partner at work isn’t against the law. However, the leverage Davids’ ex wife still had there could certainly make my life very uncomfortable. And it was this that had proved to be too difficult to continue.

The bottom line was a pay off – or as they called it ‘voluntary severance’, and I was the one, naturally, who had to take the fall to satisfy all parties. It was nasty and spiteful, and I was the only victim.

It had also resulted in a three month off-site for David, whilst ‘things calmed down’, the MD insisted. It probably wasn’t meant to be another deliberate problem to destabilise us as a couple but it certainly did not help.

It was all a mess and, to be honest, I just wanted it to go away. So that we could get our home life back to our happy, quirky normal as soon as possible.

But at this very moment, after only a week in my new temporary employment, I doubted if I could imagine what ‘normal’ would be ever again.

“Well let me just put this out there,” Said Alex, “I think we made a good choice.”

Charles was the area manager at my new workplace, a branch of a large retail department store in the South East of the UK.

He, and the store manager Alex, had employed me as a sales assistant but there was a considerable concession to be made…

They knew about me.

They knew I was a transwoman, they knew that I was prepared to go the extra mile to get the job, and insisted this to be an ongoing part of the deal.

And rather than walk away form their offer, I accepted. An agreement that I had not forseen the full repercussions of at the time.

“It was only a 6 month contract,” I’d thought to myself, “that it wouldn’t be too much to handle…”

After all, I’d been able to juggle relationships with two men before, and David was away…

And these were clearly two middle aged white men, one married, one divorced, “How bad could it be?” I asked myself. “They would soon lose interest.”

I had already contemplated their offer and accepted. It did not take me long to confirm “yes”, to myself anyway. The extra time I perceived to take in the decision was primarily out of my respect for my partner.

Before David, I liked being objectified, propositioned, and I must admit that part of my ego had started to feel neglected. Especially now I was fully out as Emma, years into my transition and it no longer a secret.

They were not completely unattractive men. Alex, around six foot tall and once of a slim build, had since filled out in middle age like so many. Charles was taller still, by four inches, and clearly much thicker set. A little older, he had kept an air of old school authority about him, where Alex came across more used-car-salesman than an executive manager.

With age being said, they both took care of their appearance, that pleased me. It probably came with the important roles they had at the company.

In other circumstances, if I had met them both at a club when I was younger, or online ‘dating’ when I was in my thirties, they would have made acceptable one-off partners. At least on the face ısparta escort of it.

But this was different.

I have always been a sexual submissive, even from a very young age, and it was all the more complicated by being trans. I had managed to keep my private sex life away from my family and career. The old adage of “never shit on your own doorstep” rang true for me.

When I first started meeting men as ‘Emma’ in my early 20s, I tried to keep them as far away from my work and private life as possible. Meetings were always at ‘their place’ or, I hate to say, being driven out to a quiet spot in the countryside or even waste ground, to have sex.

That was a not so glamorous truth of my life for ten years, when I first started coming to terms with who and what I am. I led a separate, double-life.

As I got older, and more comfortable being bi, submissive and trans, things gradually started to change. Meeting outdoors for sex was always risky, which I must admit did initially add to the excitement. But, when you start having something to lose like a career, and friends who do not know about this side of you, it started to exhaust its appeal. The risk had slowly become greater than the reward.

Once I started inviting men over to my own personal apartment, everything changed. This adjustment actually allowed me to reduce the probability of my secret second life being discovered. This was contrary to my initial thoughts as a young adult, where I absolutely did not want to have strangers over.

In changing that stance, opportunities to meet were increased. Married men were grateful to have a place to go and unwind, have sex, and then go back to their spouse. The common thread that their female partners had lost all sexual interest.

But I still maintained that professional and private life should remain separated.

As soon as David and I had left the office Christmas party as a couple last December, the last rule I had carried with me for nearly thirty years had been broken. And the consequences that came with it were now spilled out across my professional and private life for all to see.

There was a price to pay, but now one less thing to hide.

The two men were sat in the office, Charles behind the large official looking desk and Alex on the guest chair facing him. The blinds were pulled down across the floor to ceiling glass that separated the room from the long parallel corridor.

The meeting continued without acknowledgement of my presence.

“Yes, we did make an excellent choice.” Charles responded. “But I suppose we have to go through with this anyway.”

Alex nodded, “Paperwork.”

My six month employment contract was scheduled to last only until September, when the business would begin their annual recruiting drive for Christmas staff or “partners”, as they preferred to call them.

And, as small a timeframe as the contract was, they still had a probation period which I was obliged to go through and pass.

As I stood there, trying to stand tall in my black 5″ patent leather stiletto heels, I continued to listen carefully.

“I’ve seen the photograph you put into the group chat.” Said Alex, immediately breaking the slim pretence that the focus of this meeting between them was going to be about work. It was the first time they had met face to face since my initial interview.

“I thought you might like it, she took it herself.” Replied Charles, a smile flashing across his face. “But then again you got in their first.”

“You should start work earlier on Monday morning.” Said Alex, “The early bird and all that.”

They both stifled a laugh.

“I must admit that I was surprised that she went through with it,” Charles added, “I thought we would be letting her go right now.”

“I assumed she would have second thoughts,” Alex admitted, “but here we are.”

“Yes, here we are.”

They paused for a moment, both seemingly unable to move the conversation on to a less candid stage. This is often the case in real life compared to online conversations on dating sites.

It took a leap of faith to break down this barrier, and I thought it wise not to intervene on this occasion and remain an observer.

“She is born to suck, this one.” Said Alex boldly, but not making eye contact with anyone as he painfully released the words.

“Yes.” Charles agreed, pretending to be distracted by the spiral-bound notepad sitting on his lap. “How long did it take her to do so?”

“Not long, I was in her mouth within twenty minutes of signing the papers.”

“Bloody hell, really?” Asked Charles quickly, “Twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, she kissed me first.” Confirmed Alex. “But after that she couldn’t wait to go down on me.”

“I didn’t think Emma would be this much of a… well, until you shared the pictures.” Remarked Charles.

“She did come to the job interview in stockings.” Alex observed, “And a leather skirt!”

“…And then you fucked her!” Charles exclaimed.

“NO,” said Alex defensively, kadirli escort “I haven’t fucked her.”

He paused.

“Not yet anyway.”

“Oh, so do I get the first go on her then?” Asked Charles, with a slight tone of sarcasm in his voice…

“If you want to.” Alex replied with a grin, “I suppose it’s only fair.”

I tried not to loose focus, to keep staring into the distance through my spectacles. I had never experienced such a conversation before.

During threesomes in the past, and other meets with multiple men, the male participants never really had much of a conversation between themselves. Certainly not more than an occasional “Fuck her” or “I’m going to cum.”.

Most of the time group meets with people are deathly silent, almost embarrassingly so. This is one thing pornography does get right in contrast to real life. Men don’t actually say much in the company of other men.

In my own personal experience of hastily arranged real-world groups, they were always strangers to each-other and myself. The nature of the beast of online hookups, as it were.

But my current situation was different.

Standing there, my hands clasped in front of me, I was witness to two aparently sensible grown men, professionals if you can call them that, openly discussing the sex acts of one of their employees.

Me.

It didn’t seem to occur to them that I should have a say in this. That I may object, or even if I don’t object, to at least decide “who gets to have the first go.”

Neither even glanced in my direction.

It has always been a part of my personality to be desired, it forms a key part of my psyche. I like men liking me, and absolutely I love men wanting me in this way.

It was a decision I had made and promised to myself as a teenager. I remember where I was and when I was as I did so. I literally vocalised it out loud, even though I was alone.

If you must know, I was standing under a cherry tree in summer of nineteen-ninety something. I had on a pair of white-leather over the knee boots with a side zip and 4″ high heel. Also, some loose fitting culottes that could swiftly be called into action and cover the boots if a stranger suddenly came across me in the garden. Always ready to hide myself away.

“If men want to have me, they can have me.” Was my promise, vocalised and shouted out into the ether.

I was going to be submissive all of my life, and here today in the office, there was no exception.

I knew from the very first Monday at work what the arrangements between Charles, Alex and myself were likely to be. By Wednesday they both independently had me give them oral sex. Alex getting me on my knees in the office and then Charles inviting me to suck his cock whilst in the car.

But it was much more than that, more than I had expected.

During the encounters both had compromised me in a way that has not happened to me before. They took pictures. Clear, unfiltered pictures of me taken after servicing them, with all the signs of what had just happened.

Each explicit image in their What’s App group also shared my name, very much legible from my store ID badge.

I could have stopped them at any time. I didn’t have to suck them off, I didn’t have to do any of this. Hell, I even took one of the images personally, as a selfie!

I found that I was unable to prevent them from exposing me in this way.

Because I didn’t want to stop them.

This was a regular pattern that is reflected in a lot of others who share my personality.

For the first time in my life I was settled, with the right person, David. Things between us had been difficult, yes, but we could get through them and be stronger in spite of our unique circumstances.

But was this settled person me, truly me?

After all I had a track record of choosing the wrong people, the wrong men, and the wrong type of liaison. With each meeting in my past, the risks got higher and the rewards too…. until that particular contact reached a point of self destruction.

And, after a time of contemplation, denial and promises that I would not allow myself to do that again… the process would repeat.

As a true submissive, and I cannot emphasise this enough, it is etched into my very bones.

How many times have you said about friends and colleagues, “I don’t know what she sees in him?”

Quite.

“I do not deserve nice things.” Is a mantra that repeats in my head. I’m attracted to things that are bad for me.

Welcome to my submissive, self-abusing, brain.

I allowed myself to reposition, to switch my standing weight from one foot to the other and smooth down my tight black pencil skirt with my hands. With a brief twitch of my head, I shook my hair that had found itself resting on and irritating my long eyelashes, and continued to look forwards.

“I’ve been thinking of what I’m going to do to her,” Charles mused, “in future.”

“Same.” said Alex, nodding. “Same.”

It was interesting kadıköy escort to hear them talk this way. Openly but still reserved. Like they wanted to really share their fantasies, but were still holding back.

It was the difference, I always thought, between a dominant male and someone who is trying to be. Why were these men so coy, so shy almost with eachother?

It took time to build up. And with each sentence voiced, they felt encouraged. My heartbeat began to rise now, a flash of excitement washed its way like a tidal wave across my spine. It Caused me to push out my breasts and feel my black bra attempting to hold them back.

I was invested now, and needed to find out where they were going with this conversation…

“Not just fucking her though, she deserves more.”

“True,” Alex agreed, “it would be a waste just to fuck her.”

They paused once more to sip tea… to take stock, to see if they were both comfortable to keep raising the tone of language.

I silently encouraged, holding my head tilted slightly higher than before.

“It’s that fucking posh accent that gets me.” Said Alex, with an element of scorn in his voice.

“Yes, gives the impression that she is better than you.” Charles responded, the irony not lost on me.

“Yeah….I know what you mean.” Agreed Alex, “It annoyed me from the moment we interviewed her.”

I know that my accent is most unexpected, especially from a transwoman. I will admit that it started out as deliberate, from my deportment and elocution classes, and that now I do play upon it somewhat as I know it can annoy those that i want it to.

“She doesn’t sound posh taking a dick in her mouth.” Charles remarked.

“Yes”…..

I thought silently,

“YES.”

As I rocked back on my stilettos, I knew this is what I wanted. This was going to get them exactly what they wanted, too.

Hearing this about myself was a brand new experience. Being spoken about in explicit terms by two men was having an effect on me. It was different to sexting or dirty pillow-talk with a partner, and different to writing my journal to you.

It was… thrilling.

“She’ should always have a cock in her mouth.” Said Alex, in agreement. “Have you seen the way the drivers look at her?”

“Oh yes,” Noted Charles, trying not to let his concentration drift himself now, “I fully expect they wank off thinking about her.”

“What do you think they would do if we told them?” Said Alex, “That we already had her?”

“Well they wouldn’t believe it!” Charles exclaimed “Not until we showed them.”

“No.”

“Then they would believe us”.

“And then they would want a go…”

“No!” Charles added defensively, “Well let’s not encourage that just yet.”

“She already has a reputation.”

“Already?” Charles thought for a moment in contemplation, “so soon?”

“Well you did disappear with her for an hour.” Alex confirmed.

“Look, I couldn’t resist.’ Charles explained. “And that was her fault.”

“How was it her fault?” Said Alex interested, feigning shock in his voice.

“I’ll bet you told her didn’t you.” Explained Charles, “My fetish.”

“I may have.” Alex admitted, “But then she went and wore that leather dress for you”.

“And thats why I came in her mouth.” Said Charles, “To give her encouragement.”

Still I remained silent.

Their conversation was true. I had worn my leather dress on purpose for Charles, just as I had worn my black leather skirt for our meeting today. I wanted to please him, to be desired by him and encourage his fetish.

And yes, the staff had noticed when Charles made a point of parading me through the store before getting in his car, tottering after him on my high-heels like a trophy girlfriend.

“Let’s just tell everyone about her so called boyfriend,” Said Charles thinking more clearly now, “that will take the attention away.”

Alex considered for a while, and then added “He is away for three months.”

“What?”

“Yes, she told me.” Alex confirmed. “no one else knows about him at all…”

But it was now my own mind starting to wander, and for the first time I am ashamed to admit that it wasn’t David in my fantasy.

For our first office meeting I had carefully chosen my outfit.

A black lace bra, panties and suspender belt, holding up high denier stockings. A black leather pencil skirt, hanging just above the knee to encourage favour from Charles. A white office blouse, just sheer enough to reveal my bra through it.

And, of course, my trademark 5″ patent leather stiletto shoes.

As I caught my own reflection in the glass, I knew that I looked good. Sexy, desirable.

Their language and descriptions had turned me on, and I needed an outlet for the sexual energy that was now flowing through my veins.

“What will they do to me?”

I wanted them to have me. In the moment I wanted them to bury their hard cocks deep inside me. Both holes at the same time, fucking me hard…. balls deep.

“Bend me over the desk, pull my skirt up and panties aside. Spit on my hole and for Gods’ sake fuck me.” I said silently to myself. “Put your fat dick on my mouth and shut me up. MAKE me shut up.”

This time it was my inner voice taking over, something that I have found missing in the last two years.

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