It's not her choice, but apparently it's her show

Vanessa stood up and closed the blinds of her floor-to-ceiling windows, then went around her desk, carefully avoiding Brand's legs... and meeting his eyes. She slowly, as quietly as she could, locked her door. She swallowed the lump in her throat while she faced the wood door, unbelieving that she was being made to **** herself by this white man, almost ten years younger than her, in her own office.

Vanessa turned to meet her fate.

"Well, Brand, it's your show. Let's get this over with."

"Au contraire, it's your show. And it needs a little more skin. Your top, if you please."

'Or if you don't please', was the implication. Vanessa couldn't stand the thought of being topless in front of a man forcing her this way, one who was almost assuredly used to seeing much younger women without their clothes. But if it finished him faster... and logic said that she hardly wanted to get any... anything on her blouse and jacket that she would be wearing out of the office.

Vanessa turned her back to her blackmailer again, and began to unbutton.

"No need for modesty. You're going to be showing me what you've got under there soon enough anyway."

That may be, but she hardly wanted to make a scene of her undressing, revealing herself bit-by-bit. Every moment that she could preserve some shred of dignity was a little victory for her, one more thing that Brand didn't take from her today. It was absurd, but it helped her find a little nugget of her strength.

"I'm shy," Vanessa replied, her voice flat and steady, trying to keep herself from betraying just how important to her ego that this little victory was to her.

It was also a test of Brand. He might threaten to turn her in over not doing as he desired overall, but surely he wouldn't be willing to lose his prize over something so minor as Vanessa's orientation during undressing. If he pushed her on it, she could push back... maybe. It was worth trying. It couldn't have been that easy finding out about her embezzlement. Hell, the bookkeepers had never known. However he had known where to look, it took effort. It had to. He might play that this encounter wasn't important, but it was more important than her turned back. Yes, she was almost sure, if he fought her on it she could fight back.

Brand chuckled lightly behind her, and she could hear his own clothes rustling. "I see how it's going to be with you, Vanessa. Well like I said, it's your show. Watching how you perform tells me a lot."

Vanessa had to suppress a shiver, and **** herself to keep moving her fingers down her buttons without pause. This man was so observant. It was one of his talents. It was a large part of what made him dangerous in the field, and frightening to Vanessa at this **** moment. Just as she was trying to gauge his reaction, he was reading hers. In his way, reading her thoughts. Her motivations. From the moment he entered Vanessa had sensed his scrutiny. It was almost physical, she could feel his hawkish gray eyes when they flicked over her body from behind.

Everything was a move. Everything was a little battle, a feint or strike. Vanessa had to minimize her losses, keep her guard and her defenses intact as well as she could even when she was under siege like this, even when she was giving up so very, very much ground. She had to find her balance.

Vanessa finished unbuttoning, and let her top drop to the floor. She turned, her shoulders square, trying to project as much confidence, as much indifference as she could muster.

"The bra, too, Vanessa."

Of course, Vanessa had known that would be the next move. She had hoped... planned on fighting him on that. That was going to be their skirmish, and her next assertion of her independence. The point where she would lay out that she wouldn't be so completely controlled. However Brand's eyes didn't look yielding at all, and he knew what she was doing - that she was testing him, as he was testing her. If she tried to resist, and he called her bluff, she had much, much more to lose than him. He might not want to turn her in, to lose his leverage over her and the opportunity to continue blackmailer her, but she needed him to not release the information he had. The stakes were unequal, and in a calculating moment Vanessa abandoned her plan to fight for her bra. She would save her stand for another time, one that was surely coming. After all she was almost certainly going to pleasure Brand, her bra hardly made that great a difference considering what else was about to happen between them.

...But it did make a difference to her. Stripping off her top in her own office was degrading, but she might show the amount of flesh she currently had on display at a beach. Without her bra there was no pretense that she was able to keep her body to herself. If - When she let down her cups, she would be exposed in a way she never would allow anyone that wasn't her lover to see.

Still, Brand wasn't going away, not today. She had more important battles to fight with him, and Vanessa made the choice to meet his eyes, reach her hands around her back, and unhook her bra. Doing her best to keep her shuddering breaths steady, the dignified black businesswoman brushed the straps from her shoulders, and... hugged her arms to her chest, not letting the bra drop just yet. She needed just a moment longer, even if it revealed a weakness to her opponent she... she just couldn't.

Brand raised an eyebrow, and Vanessa blushed, dropping her eyes from his.

She shouldn't have done that. She should have just continued removing her bra, and set it to the side. She had lost more dignity, more respect by keeping her bra on for that moment than just revealing herself calmly, proudly, in a ladylike fashion. Brand had already won this battle, and Vanessa was no inexperienced teen girl. She had to accept her defeat gracefully, if she was to keep the poise and respect she needed to fight a more important battle later.

... A battle more important than keeping her breasts from being ogled by this much younger white man, her despicable blackmailer. That Vanessa could anticipate such a thing only emphasized the awful reality that had so swiftly been thrust upon her. Vanessa gritted her teeth and **** her hands in motion. Her cup fell into her fingers. Uncrossing her arms she felt the weight of her own breasts rest lightly against her ribs. She laid her bra calmly on her desk.

It was done. It took all of Vanessa's willpower to allow her brown orbs to hang free, naked before Brand's exploring eyes. To also not clench her fists at her sides. She stood, as unshaken and noble as she could possibly project while displaying her bare breasts against her will. While inside her mind was screaming at her to not do this, to not allow this.

"Not bad, Vanessa. You're better put together than I had dared hope under that power outfit. How old are you again?" Brand was eyeing her like a piece of meat, eyes traveling up and down. Vanessa could feel it. The assessing. The taking in of her upright, chocolate-colored breasts that despite their ample weight had so far been kindly treated by both time and motherly use. The examination of her narrow, smooth brown belly.

Vanessa didn't answer the deliberately degrading question of her age. Brand probably knew anyway, and like everything else Vanessa was sure it was a calculated play. If pressed she might answer, but responding immediately would show that after having been stripped of her top, she would allow further indignity to pass unchallenged.

He might have the power, he might hold the trump card, but that wasn't how it was going to be. No, not with her.

Yes, she would do what she had to. But only what she absolutely had to. And she would find a way out of this thing.

Vanessa promised herself, right there, that she would come through this intact. A whole person. Her dignity might get bruised, her ego might get trampled, but she was more than this punk knew. He would regret this. Vanessa let her eyes convey her fierce resolve, looking straight into Brand's face.

Unfortunately he didn't meet her eyes, couldn't see Vanessa's spirit. His gaze was set a little lower.

"Those are some pretty big tits. Tell me, Vanessa, can you lick your own nipple?"