Emma's Stiletto Seduction

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

Emma's stiletto seduction 01 to Pt. 24 for prior entries.

Comments welcome.

/

It was past 6.30 pm before my boyfriend, David, arrived home.

We have been living together in our 1930s detached house in the south of the U.K. for over a year now, and had been a couple for nearly two. But recently our lives had been turned upside down by his utter unfortunate misfortune of having an ex wife. An ex wife who was very unhappy with the prospect of David having moved on from her with a person like me

Although she didn't want him for a husband anymore, there was one thing she did want for David and had prayed for... No one else to have him.

After she had found out about our relationship, steps were taken by her to disrupt our lives in any way possible. At first I was not concerned, al least not outwardly. Now every secret of mine was finally out in the open, what could she do. However I now accept that I was somewhat naive in this view. There were things that she could do to disrupt my life and, have very much succeeded in doing so.

As you all know, David and I used to work together, it's how we met after all. But please notice the past-tense in my statement. That was what she could do.

My workplace had appeared to be quite progressive and supportive, until they were not. After years of networking and being friends with other employees there, his ex wife had many favours she could call in. And people that she could count on, including the CEO.

Even with decent employment laws here in the uk, they would not be strong enough to prevent my continuing employment there from being untenable.

It was made quite clear, unofficially of course, that either David or myself would have to leave. After a meeting with the executive board, it was decided that David was more valuable to the company and that the person who needed to go was always going to be me.

I think they called it "voluntary severance", rather than finding grounds to sack me. And because of this I was offered a generous severance package to leave quietly. In the circumstances, Im not sure what you would have done in my position, but I decided to take it.

One years' salary, after tax.

Once I had signed and accepted the cheque, it was time to put this business behind me and move on.

A year is a long time to stay at home, and not something that I was or had planned to do. Positions in the job market were not easy to come by, and although I was financially stable a second income would have many benefits. And I wanted something to occupy my time whilst looking for a more permanent position,

I had applied for a job at a department store, and was waiting patiently at home to tell David how the interview had gone.

/

"Well, how did it go?" Asked David, shouting through the entrance hall through to the kitchen.

"Well, not quite what I was expecting." I replied, looking back over my shoulder to greet him.

A knowing look was growing on David's face.

"You didn't have to fuck the interview panel did you?" Asked David, half joking. "Remember it's just a job to have whilst looking for the one you really want."

David and I had a different relationship to most couples. Aside from me being a transwoman, we had always enjoyed an aspect of sharing, specifically David sharing me with other men if the opportunity arose.

Veteran swingers would call me a 'hot wife' or 'slutwife', terms used to describe a relationship where the wife was free to meet with other men. Sometimes with, sometimes without their consent. This was true of our relationship, especially at the start of our affair, but my liaisons with other men had appreciably slowed down as our lives had grown together.

But more than that, I was now using words like "love", something I never believed I would be able to find with anyone.

I love this man, and I think and hope he loves me too. In our own unique way, and whatever the word means.

And when he wished me luck for my job interview earlier, he knew exactly how it would go...

It sounds preposterous in 2024, but this is still the way that the world works sometimes. Men in power want to employ and be with women without.

"Did you wear that to the interview?" David asked, now having the time to look at my outfit.

I sat on a kitchen stool, still in my black A-line leather skirt, black high-denier stockings and white office blouse. My black leather spiked heeled boots were parked neatly in the hallway.

"Yes." I replied. "Why?"

"And the interviewers on the recruitment panel were men?" David inquired, knowingly.

"Yes." I giggled, smiling across at him.

"I imagine that they gave you the job before you sat down!" David exclaimed, and smiled to himself.

"I hope so."

I didn't want to tell him what had actually happened earlier today, although it was what he had forecast. The managers of the store who were interviewing me definitely understood that I wanted the job. Much more so than the others candidates.

And unfortunately those men also noticed that I moved my diamond 'engagement' ring from the appropriate finger during the interview process.

It signalled I was available.

With this knowledge it was made quite clear by the store manager, Alex, that he would be giving me the position only on the condition that I would then be in his debt. And that debt collection must also extend to Charles, the area manager.

Before I could explain the situation and how it had occurred, I was interrupted...

"Actually," David added, "I have news too."

"Really?" I enquired, wanting to lean about his day and now feeling like I should change the subject quickly.

David had been offered a secondment from his company, helping a new site to open and get up to speed with their payroll software.

"It will pay more," David quickly added, noticing the objection that was about to appear on my face, "probably double my usual salary for that time."

I nodded, warily.

"But that's because it's in New York."

This confirmed my suspicions.

After we had worked through all the recent changes, I was looking forward to a period of calm in our lives. Where we could get back to growing as a couple again. When there is a person desperate to split you up in any way that they can, even if you are close as a couple, it certainly magnifies any cracks in a relationship.

"Three months." David sighed.

"Three months." I replied, smiling and shaking my head at the same time.

"I'll be back before you know it." He emphasised, which we both knew was unlikely to be true. "And I have to fly out Friday."

It was going to be our longest time apart, by far. And although we were stronger than most couples, it was something I became very apprehensive about and in need of reassurance.

He spent the next few days comforting me, and reminding me that "your new job will keep you busy."

Unfortunately, and without his knowing, I was sure he was going to be proved correct.

/

Alex, my prospective new manager, had texted me earlier. He would have the employment contract paperwork drafted and, once I signed, could officially start on Monday.

David had departed for America three days ago, which I had planned to use the time to mull over the offer in-front of me. I certainly did not want to have the house to myself now, all day every day. And not for that length of time.

But it was mainly the quid-pro-quo arrangement offered to me by my new prospective employers that was concerning.

I had long since been able to separate sex from love, to the point where having sex with men was little different to two people shaking hands. I wanted them, men, to want me, and I enjoyed servicing their needs.

My own sexual gratification, orgasm, had become immaterial. I got my 'thrill' as it were, thinking afterwards about the acts I had just done. Something that I have found is a commonality which I share with other submissives.

/

Text

Alex: Will you meet me upstairs in the office at 9am Monday, sharp.

Emma: yes, I will be there. Thank you.

Alex: Remember, business dress.

Emma: yes.

Alex: We prefer to be formal in communication with potential staff.

Emma: Sorry sir. Yes, sir.

In the interview Alex had alluded that he and Charles, the area manager, would be expecting something in return for them employing me.

I wasn't too sure how far they were willing to risk their own employment, or potential marriage, but it was clearly going to be a most irregular arrangement.

When arranging meets for myself with men over the years, using online dating and hook-up sites, I always used to trick myself into thinking that there were decisions to be made.

Should I reply to their messages?

Should I arrange a meet?

Will I turn up if I arrange a meet?

But I always knew, deep down, that I was just toying with myself.

And that I would very much do as they say.

Thinking about accepting the job offer over the weekend was similar. I loved David, absolutely and unconditionally. But I also knew that I would be accepting the job, and accepting any conditions that came with it. Any procrastination in my decisions was just out of courtesy and respect for David.

It was inevitable.

So here I found myself, 8.50 am Monday standing outside Alex's office in the upper floor of the department store.

I was definitely going to go through with this. "Yes", I told myself, over and over. About to sign a 6 month temporary contract with them.

I rocked back on my shiny black patent leather stiletto heels and adjusted my hair that was styled into a tight ponytail. I was trying to compose myself.

I pulled my black leather tailored jacked down over my chest, so that my silk camisole was no longer visible.

My skirt was also black, suiting the dress code of the store. It was cotton, with threads of Lycra woven into it and positioned just above the knee. It clung tightly to my legs and traced the contour of my bottom.

"Business dress" I told myself, repeating the words of the text message sent to me, until my mutterings were interrupted.

"You are early, Miss." said a quiet voice in the corridor, that was still able to startle me.

I turned from the door to face Alex, my new manager. He was a man well into his 50s now, taller than most at just over 6ft but not as big as David. He certainly didn't seem to have the personality that my David had neither. Yes, I was sure in my mind that Alex was not going to win in any category of comparison between the two.

"Stop torturing yourself like this." I told myself, quietly.

I assumed Alex was married, as he gave off the smell of sheer frustration that such men exude. Stuck, loveless, sexless and frustrated.

I didn't spend enough time with Charles in the interview to gauge if he was also in a similar position, but it was interesting that it was he and not Alex who noticed me swapping fingers with my diamond ring.

In my experience, it is the married men prefer to cheat on their wives with married women. They think it provides them with a layer of protection, mutually assured destruction. Dating sites call this 'discretion'.

Single women on such sites cannot be controlled in this way, they have nothing to loose. They have no partner to find out, no home to leave, no lives to be 'ruined'.

Wearing an 'engagement ring' to interview was akin to saying you are married on a dating site. It actually gets you more interest from the mainly married clientele.

The managers had seen this as an opportunity, a visual confirmation that this woman, THIS woman, was willing to use sexuality to get ahead. And that they could use this information to get what they wanted too.

"Please be on time in future." Alex added.

It was a subconscious thing, but I immediately noticed. Managers had never told me off in the workplace for being ten minutes early to a meeting before.

I immediately noticed the way Alex unlocked his office door and went in ahead of me, and then waited to call me inside. It was subtle indications of where he believed the power lay in this business relationship.

Alex busied himself behind his desk, taking time to remove papers from his satchel and purposefully doing everything he could to ignore me.

I waited, patiently, until he was ready.

"If you could sign these papers Miss..." He added, casually, avoiding the use of my surname."Then we can sort out your security passes.

He turned the papers around on his desk 180 degrees so that they were now facing me. He placed a pen on top.

The top two documents were contracts of employment, drafted by their Human Resources department. A 'star' shape had been scribbled next to the dotted line where I was signing and also dating.

"Are you sure about this?" Alex asked, somewhat unexpectedly.

It was his first show of nervousness I had witnessed today. I perceived it as providing a final chance to back away from whatever he had planned for me in his mind.

But I had already made up my own mind, it had never been in question. I signed on the dotted line.

"One for you to keep." Alex added, "And you work for me now."

He placed his copy of the document in a tray on his desk.

"We just need to go through a few things, then we can get you started."

It was an odd feeling after the implied conversations we had when we were last in the room. I didn't know if he would demand I strip naked and service him right now, or how I would react to that suggestion.

But it never came.

Could there be any way that I had misread any of his signals?

Before he could authorise my security pass, he needed to send photographs to central HR, "For the database."

He took his mobile phone from his pocket, "Not everything is paper around here," he joked, awkwardly.

He pointed towards a blank wall between two floor to ceiling height glass panels that had been concealed by louvred blinds.

"Back to the wall and face me."

He held his phone at head height and arms length, and took a passport style photograph.

"You are better looking that the actual women here." He muttered under his breath. "Anyway you will need to wear this."

From a padded envelope on his desk he presented me a black plastic badge with white lettering. Embossed was my full name, prefixed by 'Miss'.

"Everyone on the floor must have one showing all times." He explained.

He took a step towards me, and took the left front of my leather jacket into his hands.

He forced the pin needle through the previously unblemished leather and clipped the badge above my breast.

And taking a step back, he took another photograph.

"Now everyone will know who you are." He remarked.

Charles has asked me to take some more, "If thats ok?" He quickly added.

I didn't feel like I could refuse, but in any case I could that I didn't have time to as Alex was already taking what I assumed was a full length picture.

"Turn to the side".

As I did so I heard the camera app on his phone take another picture, and another.

I need not ask myself the question as to "Why do HR need full length pictures of me?" As I already knew the answer. They did not.

When he asked me to face the wall, I knew that I had not misconstrued any of our conversations.

More photographs were taken.

"Put your hands behind your back." He directed.

I did so, placing my hands in the small of my back and clasping them together.

"No." He responded, and took my arms and encouraged them to fold at the elbow so that my forearms were parallel to the floor. "That's better."

Again, I could hear the camera taking pictures, and had thoughts of what was about to come.

"We need you to know the store and the products," He said, turning away from me, "so I have organised you to shadow Pete in deliveries today."

I nodded, still facing the wall with my arms folded behind my back. My ponytail signalling agreement.

Alex was surprised by this, that I hadn't already turned around, or indeed asked why so many photographs were taken.

"Tomorrow you can see the temporary stock we hold in the warehouse and on Wednesday Charles wants to see you." He said, nonchalantly. "And if he approves you can then work on the floor"

And then there was silence.

...

I didn't hear him, but I did feel the warmth of a body approach me from behind. It was very close, but not quite touching me.

It paused.

"You can turn around now, miss." He instructed.

There was hardly room to do so, when I shuffled around, his body had no choice but to press my tiny frame to the wall.

He stood pinning me, his chest pushed against mine, flattening my breasts slightly. I could feel his heart beat racing as his breath got heavier.

Reaching behind me, he took my hands into his, and guided them down to the hem of my skirt.

Slowly, he wrapped my fingers around the Lycra and cotton cloth, and started to lift my skirt, until he had made me hold it waist high.

My stockings and suspenders had been revealed, and the thin material of my panties did nothing to disguise the oestrogen ravaged secret that they were hiding.

"Just one more picture, Miss..." he asked, "and then you can get to work..."

/

"Go and find Pete downstairs."

I quickly turned on my heels and left, making sure to shut the door behind me. I rushed to the toilets desperately hoping no one would see.

In the mirror looking back at me was a 40 something transwoman. A submissive transwoman that had just....

I liked this.

I wanted this.

I wanted to be treated like this, used like a whore should be.....

Usually.

Previously.

/

Peter was an older man, nearing retirement. He seemed like he was perhaps not quite the life, but definitely the soul of the workforce. The type of person everyone knew, and liked, who had been here since 'day dot'.

Aside from a few remarks about being over dressed, "Those shoes of yours will not least five minutes down here!" He treated me kindly and with respect.

He understood that I was here to learn about the stock and how deliveries worked in the store, and carefully explained their system. How everything arrived from their central distribution every other day.

"We also do local deliveries within 30 miles, and they go out every morning." He explained.

If anything, he went out of his way to be nice when he did not have to be.

He always introduced me first to any drivers that were loading, and used 'Miss Emma' and pointed to my name badge when doing so.

Peter also apologised for some of the drivers behaviour, "Sorry love, they just aren't used to a woman like you being down here."

The other drivers had been typical men of a range of ages and backgrounds. Pete had noticed they all have a vacant stare when being introduced to 'Miss Emma', and said, "They will grow out of it in about twenty years." Chuckling to himself.

"It's the older ones I have to watch out for." I added, and he gave me a knowing look as he gestured his head to indicate the management floor above.

"Watch yourself around them." He warned, taking a sip of his tea.

But he didn't know it was already too late. That I knew what they both wanted from me before signing.

It had only been a few hours but the unknowing actions of this kindly old man had made me feel shame, and a flourish of regret.

He couldn't know what had already happened with Alex, within minutes of starting here...

I closed my eyes.

I knew that Pete was a father figure to the building, and also that he couldn't save me.

Whatever was going to happen to me will happen.

I was already lost.