Continue with your genius plan.

Then it was thursday. Things were progressing at the correct speed now, and today I just needed to raise the stakes again. Tomorrow would be the true watermark moment, the test to see if all my efforts were in vain or not.

Although I did get a little sidetracked in the morning. But the good kind of sidetracked.

Gloria was wearing a scandalously unprofessional attire, with just a white top and yellow hotpants. She would never have worn anything like this if Maria wasn't away. But hey, no complaints from me. She looked stunning, and was nothing but bootylicious eye-candy. Maybe I could make this the official uniform here someday?

Speaking of candy, she was eating one and just threw the wrapper on the floor. Normally I wouldn't have touched this, but this was just the kind of situation I was waiting for. The tables had to turn around here.

"Hey! Gloria! Pick that up! There's a trash can right there!"

She turned around with a real look of confusion. Nobody talked to her like that. Everyone else in the lobby were as similarly stunned. She chuckled a bit and sauntered towards me with her long legs.

"You wanna reconsider that, grub? You know I'm gonna own all of this some day, right? So if I were you, I'd stay on my good side. Okay?"

"Well right now you own nothing. You're just an intern and I'm a senior writer. If I tell you to pick up something, you will. Or would your mother like to hear about this?"

She gave me a hard look, but eventually turned and walked towards the wrapper. (GLORIA: +10SP) (-15SP)

However, she didn't just pick it up. She bent over at the waist and did it in the most sexual way possible.

She clearly did it mockingly and teasingly, but it had a real effect on me. Soon it was getting harder to hide my erection. She knew that too, and really took her time putting it in the trash bin. I gave her a quick smile and got out of there fast. That went sorta well? Besides I really had to make inroads with Gloria pretty soon too. By all accounts, owning her was probably the best way to make a dent in Maria's number.

I spent most of the day writing the friday's article on gloves. It was actually starting to turn out pretty good! Just one more day of fixing it, and it would be at least believable that Gretchen gave you a perfect score on it. Probably.

Speaking of her, she actually came to the writer's room today. Her face was still somewhat red, and she breathed a bit more heavily than usual. Excellent. Seems like the lust effects really didn't go away anywhere, especially since she had no way of releasing them. I wondered if she even tried?

She came just to publically praise Lana's newest article, clearly right in front of my face. Lana took it with her usual good grace (she reminded me of the praise seven more times that day), but even she was somewhat taken back with Gretchen's redness. She asked if she had just went to the gym, and Gretchen didn't know quite how to answer that. But that didn't matter, it was going to get more exhausting for her today.

Couple of hours later, it was time to visit her office again.

I knocked on the door. Nothing. I put my ear to the door. Nothing. Wasn't she in?

I knocked again. Nothing. "Gretchie-doll? It's me." (GRETCHEN: +1SP) (-32SP)

Oh she definitely heard me. I felt that submission point. She just pretended not to be there. Which was probably the best move on her part. What to do here? I couldn't stand out here and call her names, no way people wouldn't notice that. And yesterday she wasn't the last one to leave the office anymore, she clearly didn't want to be left alone here with me anymore. She would probably do the same again today. Could I get one of the girls to open up her door? Yeah, I probably could, but the less witnesses on what was happening between me and Gretchen the better. ....Hm. Maybe today this needed to happen virtually? Would it work as well?

I returned to my office and sent thursday's article to her messenger app. I added a message "Please rate my article like the good little worker bee you are."

I waited a while.

(GRETCHEN: +1SP) (-31SP)

I felt that. She probably just read my message. Okay, it worked like this too. It wasn't as good as in-your-face was, but it would have to do today.

She answered your message. "What makes you think I'll read your piece of shit articles ever again?"

"Come on puppet. I know you're just thirsting to have my juicy, thick and long articles in your pretty brains. I bet you even hardly sleep thinking about them, right, tits?", alright, that was really excessive, but I had to go in hard. Time was limited here.

(GRETCHEN: +4SP) (-27SP)

"Thanks for giving actual solid proof of your sexual harassment, fucker."

"You wouldn't do that to me, would you little Gretchie? You're a good girl. Just look how you well take commands."

I sent her the video of her sniffing her high heels and then coughing with disgust. (GRETCHEN: +3SP) (-24SP)

"If you think you can somehow **** me to give you a perfect article with that, forget it. YOU ARE NEVER GETTING ONE. So just publish it already."

Well she finally called my bluff. It didn't matter, I already saw this coming.

"Nah, don't feel like it. But I will, if you show these texts to anybody else. Then I'd have nothing to lose."

There, I probably managed a pretty good standstill. But it did make me wonder, just how many more texts before she blocked me?

Probably just one. Better make it a good one.

"I wonder if you secretly loved smelling you dirty, disgusting feetsweat. I probably made your panties all wet, obeying my orders like the good little **** slut you truly are. You're probably still smelling your shoes, trying to recreate that night you sad little masochist. Bet you stay up all night thinking about how hot it would be to submit to me completely and have your needy little holes plugged? Maybe I don't feel like you deserve that. Yet."

And wait for it...

(GRETCHEN: +7SP) (-17SP)

And... Blocked. There it was. That was a little more progress again. Although, I did wonder...

I quickly went to Gretchen's door. I saw that no one else was around, and put my ear to the door.

Ah yes. That was definitely the sound of someone desperately rubbing themselves with no actual relief. And I even heard the smallest of lovely little moans. Tomorrow was going to be a grand day.