The Price of Submission (Patreon)

Hey there, my timid subordinate, I see you trembling as I stand before you in my sleek office, the city skyline framed by the windows behind me. I’m a towering figure of power, my navy blazer dress clinging to my massive frame, the deep neckline showcasing the strength of my chest, my long blonde hair cascading over my shoulders. My biceps strain against the fabric with every move, my thighs a testament to raw, unyielding strength. Have you ever worked for a woman like me? I doubt it. Have you even seen a woman like me? I’m a corporate conqueror, and you will submit to me. You’ll do anything I ask, and you’ll like it—I’ll make sure of that.

I wasn’t always this commanding. I grew up in a rough neighborhood, where every day was a fight for survival. My mother was a tyrant, her words a whip, her hands a punishment, always telling me I was worthless. My siblings joined her cruelty, their taunts a constant reminder of my supposed weakness. But I found my power in the gym, a sanctuary where I could build myself into something they could never touch. I channeled every ounce of their hate into my training, sculpting my body into a fortress of muscle, a symbol of my defiance. I climbed the corporate ladder with the same ferocity, and now I rule this office, my strength and will unmatched. I’m not just a boss—I’m a force, and you’re about to learn what that means.

I step closer, my heels clicking on the polished floor, the navy fabric of my dress hugging my curves as I tower over you. My office is a modern kingdom—glass walls, sleek furniture, the hum of power in the air—and I’m its queen. I lean against my desk, my arms crossed, the blazer dress straining against my biceps, and I fix you with a piercing gaze. I can see the way you’re staring, your eyes darting from my muscular arms to the deep plunge of my neckline, my presence overwhelming you. I smirk, knowing the effect I have, knowing you’re already crumbling under my authority. I ask you again—have you ever worked for a woman like me?—my voice a low, commanding purr, daring you to answer.

What would you do if I pushed you further? I uncross my arms, my muscles flexing naturally, and I point to the floor in front of me, commanding you to kneel. You will submit, I tell you, my tone leaving no room for defiance. You’ll do anything I ask, and you’ll like it—that’s the price of being in my presence. I sit on the edge of my desk, crossing one powerful leg over the other, my navy dress riding up just enough to show the definition in my thighs. What if I asked you to lick my heels clean? I tilt my head, my blonde hair spilling over one shoulder, and I watch your reaction, my lips curling into a wicked smile. You’d love it, wouldn’t you? The thought of serving me, of being so close to my power, it drives you wild—I can see it in your eyes.

What if I made you my personal assistant in every sense? I’d lean forward, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper, and I’d tell you exactly what I expect. You’d fetch my coffee, your hands shaking as you hand it to me, knowing I could crush the cup with a flex of my wrist. You’d organize my schedule, your eyes stealing glances at my physique as I pace the office, my blazer dress accentuating every move. I’d call you into my office late at night, the city lights glittering outside, and I’d test your loyalty further. I’d ask you to massage my shoulders, your fingers trembling as they touch the unyielding muscle beneath my skin, my voice guiding you, telling you how to please me. You’d do it all, and you’d love every second of serving a woman like me.

Let’s make your submission official. I stand, my full height dominating the room, and I walk around my desk to sit in my chair, the leather creaking under my weight. I gesture for you to approach, my eyes never leaving yours, and I hand you a contract—your new role as my devoted subordinate. I’d watch you sign it, my smile growing as you commit to my rule. I’d lean back, my blazer dress pulling tight across my chest, and I’d tell you that you’re mine now, that you’ll serve me in every way I desire. I want you to feel the weight of my authority, the thrill of my power, the intoxicating pull of my presence. You’ll never work for anyone else like me, because there is no one else like me.

I rise again, my heels clicking as I circle you, my blonde hair brushing against my shoulders, my muscles a living testament to my dominance. I want you to remember this moment, to carry the image of me—your corporate conqueror—in your mind. I’m your ruler, your obsession, your dream. I want your submission, your devotion, your surrender. Show me how far you’re willing to go to please me, and maybe I’ll let you stay in my world, where power and control are the only laws. So, my subordinate, what will you do for me? I’m waiting.