(Female Sub) Marcy Suchong; Best Assistant Ever

The atmosphere at the Matron offices is tense, like people sheltering in place, waiting for a hurricane to strike, preying that the inevitable damage won’t be catastrophic.

It’s like this every morning. It’s all because one single person that the media giant has such a high turn over rate, why half the office is on anti anxiety meds and the other half is on something else.

“Hey… word around the water cooler is there’s gonna be another purge some time soon…”

“Yeah… IT fucked up when they were cleaning Fontaines computer… she couldn’t get back to work for hours…”

“Shit…. Poor bastards…”

The boss Bridgette Fontaine; CEO and founder of perhaps the biggest news network in the empire, has been terrorizing her staff since the beginning, a big fan of cutting fat wherever she finds it, it’s even rumored that she gets off on firing people.

As waves of new employees come and go there has been one person who’s survived it all, weathered the storm of firings and hirings, her secretary Marcy Suchong. Perhaps it’s more appropriate to call her a personal assistant with the amount of times she was summoned in the dead of night to pick up Ms Fontaine from some high society party and escort her home while she is plastered drunk.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at her meek appearance but Marcy is a foundational block of the office.

She was born a woman but she had always been on the small side, 4’11” with a petite almost waif-ish build that seemed to suit her as the secretary for such a monolith of a woman.

There’s a few reasons Marcy could think as to why she’s made such a lengthy career at the Matron, for one thing she’s made herself invaluable, if she were fired it would take months before Ms Fontaine found someone to fill that position.

Another reason is because in an incredibly short time, she’s gotten to memorize all of her employers little quicks, all of her mannerisms, and as such she’s turned pacifying Ms Fontaine into a science.

During the morning may be her most irritable point and as such it is crucial to get everything right, down to the last detail.

The elevator doors slide open and out steps… her… instantly everyone in the room starts pretending to be busy, clicking through nothing in their computer, writing nothing on blank pieces of paper, talking to no one on the phones about some “Big Story” as she marches down through the cubicles making for her office.

She stands tall as she strides across the bullpen, her 6 inch office heels clacking against the floor as she walks like a lioness across the savanna.

Marcy for her part, does as she always does, She stands just in front of Ms Fontaines office, a cup of coffee in each hand which are identical.

This is but the first of Marcy’s many tricks. Bridgette will power through the first cup within an hour and then sip off the second until lunch rolls around.

She takes the cups from Marcy’s hands without a word; it’s simply expected, prompting her to push the door open for her so she may enter.

As Marcy follows her inside she employs her next trick, the news sandwich, it’s not often she can employ it but it does show results.

“We got a tip from one of our birds; says there’s gonna be a big M.L.F. rally downtown, if we’re fast we can be the first on the seen!” She says as Fontaine takes a seat at her desk, a large grand thing, perhaps the most expensive item in the office.

It’s made mostly from a dark oak but the top of it has a smooth black surface, it looks like stone but Marcy can’t parse what it is.

“We also got a call from… Ms Jones… she uh… she’ll only speak with you…” she says cringing a bit at the name.

Bridgett’s nose flares as she sucks in a deep breath, her deep brown eyes clamped shut as she attempts to settle herself, but it’s clear she’s struggling; she always does where her ex wife is concerned.

Marcy is quick to follow it up, hoping to cool any tempers before they can reach critical mass.

“Also! It seems your hunch was right with the Hendricks angle, turns out she’s been seeing male prostitutes in the evenings what’s more? She’s been SUBMITTING to them..!” She says, a smile on her face as she watches her employer slowly simmer down, her eyes opening as she slowly nods her head.

Hendricks for months has been spouting about futa superiority and with this coming out? Scandalous! Especially so close to election season.

Steadily Ms Fontaine smoothes out, leaning back in her chair as she appears to get lost in thought, giving Marcy a moment to take her in.

Bridgette Fontaine was beautiful, no other way to look at it, she sports smooth caramel brown skin which hide defined but not distracting muscle that fits her Amazonian height of 7’1”.

She wears typical office clothes but clearly of high quality, a skirt, blouse jacket and heels complete with nylon stockings.

Seeing the opportunity, Marcy slowly backs out of the room and takes a seat at her own desk, situated just beside Fontaine's door and with that, she waits.

She waits for the purge to begin, she knows she’s safe but that does little to calm her nerves, she’s tried to cover up the mistakes of others, tried to protect them from Fontaines wrath, but sometimes her efforts are just not enough and someone slips up, and Fontaine knows, she ALWAYS knows.

Sure enough, it begins, her phone rings, gently picking it up she holds it to her ear to hear the words of her employer, stern and demanding.

“Come to my office, we have some things to discuss”

———————————————————————

The office feels more oppressive as she enters it now, sure it was never a place Marcy considered comforting, the pretense for her visit made her hands shake ever so slightly.

“Close the blinds” says Fontaine without preamble. She sits at her desk, hands gently folded atop that black slab in the center, her warm brown eyes slightly narrowed as she watched her secretary, studying her every move, scrutinizing her body language.

Marcy’s mind races, trying to figure out the meaning of this, had she done something wrong? When someone steps into Fontaines office and closes the blinds they tend to walk out in tears or barely maintaining their composure.

“You’ve been working here for some time… how long has it been…?” Fontaine asks but Marcy knows that she knows, nonetheless Marcy humors her.

“4 years, 7 months and…… 12 days…” she says, reciting their lengthy history almost by heart earning a small chuckle from Ms Fontaine.

“That is what I have always appreciated about you Marcy, so meticulous… so through… that’s why I wanted to speak with you, I have a new position opening and I think you’d be able to realize your full potential this way…”

A promotion?! That’s practically unheard of at the Matron! What else could there be? Marcy has no experience in journalism or even writing for that matter, could her role as personal assistant be made official? If so then why speak of realizing potential? What more could be done?

“Of… of course ma’m! I’ll do my best! What… what exactly is this position…?” Marcy inquires her eyes scanning Fontaines face as though trying to read her mind.

“Well this position isn’t exactly official but much of your responsibilities would remain the same, paper work, scheduling appointments but you’ll also be looking after me on a more… person level…”

Admittedly Marcy was at a loss, she couldn’t connect the vague reply’s and insinuating together in her mind which seemed to please and annoy Ms Fontaine in equal measure.

Gently Fontaine stands, towering over the small girl, slowly stepping around the desk, stopping just in front of Marcy when her hand gently creeps down her body, gripping the hem of her skirt and pulling it upwards, allowing a stunned Marcy to trail her eyes upwards from her feet and running up her long powerful legs to her panties which holds a…. Lump…. A sizable one at that.

Marcy lets out an involuntary gasp as she feels her face burn with embarrassment, looking upon that heavy bulge, the size of both her fists put together, she can’t find it in her to look away.

Their height relative to each other puts Marcy at eye level with the amazons bulge that throbs softly in silent power. Marcy feels a tingling in her belly as a slow wetness grows in her panties.

She had no experience with boys let alone futas but her body screamed in desire, craving something Marcy never knew she wanted… needed.

“I think you could go much further in this company in this position. I think we both have a lot to gain from it, don’t you?” She asked, her words carrying her typical imperious tone but there’s something else there, something predatory, something hungry.

All Marcy can do is dumbly nod her head as she stares at that bulge like a fool, eyes wide as her thighs quiver, a line of excitement slowly rolling down her thigh.

Sure there was the invisible certainty that if she refused she would find herself out of a job but that thought hardly passes through her mind as she looks upon the mighty bulge of her employer.

“That’s very good. Your work starts immediately. Under the desk, girl” she States, her words filled with some much power and confidence that Marcy felt her legs move in their own.

She kneels down, crawling into the leg space beneath the desk, her heart pounding in her ears as she hears the muffled thump of Fontaines footsteps against the carpet of her office until finally she takes a seat and scoots in, blocking her only way out.

She parts her legs revealing that bulge once more, it’s all Marcy can see, and now she can smell that faint hint of.. of something heady… something that makes her head spin and the feeling in her gut intensify.

“I do not have patience for slackers” she states firmly, pulling Marcy from her stupor as she sheepishly reaches up, gently pulling the front of Fontaines black panties to the side to set her length free from its confines, even flaccid it’s almost too much for Marcy to bare, it’s proportional to the rest of her body making it appear borderline monstrous in size.

Her balls lay just beneath that chocolate python, larger than apples and thankfully shaven clean and coated in a small misting of sweat.

Sheepishly she wraps a hand around her soft length just barely able to wrap her fingers around it as she begins to stroke it up and down.

All the advice she ever received regarding sex had come from her mother when she tried to instill the dominance she had into her daughter but it just didn’t take.

She knows the basic principle of friction and she knows that it’s SUPPOSED to wind up in her pussy at some point but… this thing… it’s too big… some people are just not compatible that way, even completely soft it would struggle to fit but hard? Completely out of the question!

Slowly as she strokes the sleeping giant, it awakens, swelling in her hand and expanding, soon she needs to bring up her other hand to wrap all the way around the girth and not long afterwards even that’s not enough!

She can see thick veins appear along Fountains mammoth cock, throbbing softly as if it had a heart beat all its own, she gulps nervously as she continues to stroke it, silently preying that’s all she’ll need.

Her hopes are shattered when she hears the distant voice of her boss, her voice having been consumed by that lustful hunger.

“Taste it…~ I know you want to…~”

She was right, she did want to but it’s so much… would it even fit in her mouth? Gingerly she sticks out her tongue, making contact with the turgid member, her tongue gently lapping at the tip of this mighty spear and in the process collecting a thick bead of precum on her tongue.

Instantly a spike of pleasure spears her body, it’s like a whole branch of her brain had been unlocked with that tingling in her belly turning into a dull throbbing, begging, pleading for relief.

Marcy continues, repeating the lapping with progressively more and more confidence, her only sign of approval coming in the form of a deeper breathing coming from Ms Fontaine.

Soon she has polished her tip clean, the entire head slick with saliva when she gets an idea, one that comes from that strange new part of her mind.

She leans in, giving Fontaine's tip a slow lick before teasing her urethra with her tongue, slipping the tip inside, eliciting a sudden gasp and a flex in her powerful mocha colored thighs.

She grows progressively bolder, using her small size to her advantage as she pushes more and more of her tongue inside, gently lapping up the precum inside before it can dribble out.

“That’s… good…~ just like-“ there’s a knock at the door, both Fontaine and her new suck slut freeze for a moment, before Ms Fontaine clears her throat.