Boss Wants Lesbian Service
Copyright© 2026 by Pellos
Chapter 1
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The Boss Always gets what she wants...
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Lesbian Humiliation
A shiny, high-rise corporate office in a bustling city, with late-night meetings, glass-walled conference rooms, and a penthouse suite where private encounters happen. Everyone has choices to make in life. Working for Vivian Hart and doing what she wanted was my defining choice.
Let me explain. I was 28 years old at the time and was the `client experience’ coordinator. This is a wellness company and I was the liaison for special clients. It was my first corporate job after a variety of customer service gigs. Corporate life isn’t for everyone, but it was my dream to work in the city, in a giant building, for people in suits.
Vivian Hart saw something in me. An executive and co-founder of the business. Our relationship was strictly business given how many hours she worked. She only spoke to me about work, nothing else, and she never showed interest in my personal life.
One day she called me into her office while facing the downtown view. I’ll never forget her posture. Clean. Precise. When she turned to face me, I knew she wanted something of a personal nature. She didn’t offer me a seat, instead she approached me standing.
“I’d like to make you an offer,” she said. “If everything goes right, I’ll become the next CEO soon, but I’m an extremely busy woman, as you know, and I can’t be everywhere at once. I have many obligations. Business and personal.”
She continued, “Which is why I’d like to make you a deal. This comes from my pocket, not the company, so you’ll report directly to me on this. If you help me with personal matters, I’ll take care of you financially. This will stay between us.”
“That’s okay, it’s my job,” I said.
Vivian read my tense body language and smiled. She was amused by how naive I was about the offer. Like I had no idea what I was getting into.
The conversation lasted about 15 minutes and I still remember most details. Not every word. But her facial expressions, her small mannerisms, the look in her eyes. There was excitement on her part for bringing me into a new world. And I saw that look of relief because now she’d have a new helper.
Our deal was simple. Vivian Hart was drowning with corporate responsibilities, which she needed to maintain in order to nab the CEO position, so she assigned me duties with women in her network. What that meant was an open ended question.
We shook hands and the deal was sealed.
1. Claudia Reyes — Stressed Investor
A week later I found myself in a downtown hotel. Our business fundamentals were strong but we still relied heavily on investors. So our top priority was keeping them happy, which included the likes of Claudia Reyes.
I’d been told that Claudia was stressed after a failed deal on another project. The mindset of investors is based on confidence. Claudia being in a bad mood could pause her investments with us. So I was tasked with doing a `personal check-in’ here. I’d also been given a $5,000 wire transfer from my boss. Why? I was about to find out.
Claudia was barefoot and the top of her blouse was unbuttoned when she opened the door. A thin woman in her late 50’s. She wasn’t impressed to see me. She’d rather have been alone. Her makeup was a bit smeared like she’d been crying. I handed her a basket, with vintage wine, oils, and a handwritten note from my boss.
She told me to come inside and she looked through the basket.
“They send you?” Claudia asks.
“Is something wrong?”
“No darling. Everything’s fine. I was just wondering why they’d send an employee. This could have been done with delivery service.”
“I work for Ms. Hart and she wanted me to handle this personally.”
The mood shifted in that hotel room and Claudia lifted an eyebrow, like she knew a secret that I didn’t. She went through the basket, searching the oils, their scents and name brands. As she sifted through the bottles, she started asking about me — my name, where I’m from, where I went to school.
She looked at me and started unbuttoning her blouse. Her chest was flat and lean and she took off her top. She stood barefoot only wearing pants and a black bra.
“Ever give a massage before?” she asked.
“Not really. Especially not with oils, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“All you have to do is rub.”
Claudia turned around and unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then she took her pants off. Her backside was bare except for thin panties. The woman was skinny and had an elegant beauty. She laid front-side down on the bed after pushing the blanket away.
Not a word was spoken but obviously she expected an oil massage. I didn’t want to leave Claudia hanging or return to the office with a disappointed boss, so I looked at the oils and chose lavender. I opened it and poured it in my hands. Then I went to the bed and sat beside where she was laying.
My hands slathered her back with oil. She felt soft and had a faint bikini tan line. You often hear about massage therapists saying they could feel the tension in a person’s body. I found that to be very true with Claudia and the stress she was under. Her body was tense at first but she seemed to relax as I pressed harder.
I’d come to learn that Claudia Reyes was a frequent visitor to massage therapists and spa treatments. My boss tested me to see how far I’d go with women. Giving a massage was exciting, I’ll admit, but my main thought was the money.
2. Isabelle Moreau — A Rival CEO
Two weeks after the massage situation, there was this big luncheon hosted by a notable fashion magazine. Female leaders in the business industry were honored on different days, and leaders in the wellness industry were being profiled. That included my boss, that also included Isabelle Moreau, our rival.
My boss was invited and I was added as her guest. The luncheon was held in a ballroom with high ceilings and white linen tables. It was a thing where women gave short speeches on innovations and leadership and my boss would also be speaking at some point. It was fun, honestly, and I got to wear designer clothes on my boss’s dime.
What’s funny about female rivalry is that you can sense it. That tension in the air. My boss and Isabelle sat two tables away and not once did they look in each other’s direction. Not even when Isabelle spoke did my boss look at the stage.
Halfway through the event, Isabelle Moreau went to the bathroom during someone’s speech, and while I was dining on a filet, my boss gestured to me. I got up and approached her, bending down so I wouldn’t disturb anyone’s view. She handed me a note.
“Follow her,” she whispered. “Give her this note.”
“Sure, of course.”
I went to the bathroom during a speech and that was mortifying enough with people looking at me. I figured the note was a peace offering to cool tensions because my boss was too proud to do it herself. What I hadn’t considered was the depths of my boss’s depravity.
When I entered the bathroom the toilet flushed and Isabelle stepped out while fixing her dress. She’s a young CEO with a sharp mind. I was struck by her beauty like most people are and she gave me the side-eye knowing who I worked for. She wasn’t intimidated, if anything she intimidated me. She washed her hands and adjusted herself in the mirror.
I handed her the note.
“This is from Ms. Hart.”
“You’re her little messenger?”
What was I supposed to say? So I just said `yes’ and she took the note after drying her hands. She read it, and looking at the movement in her eyes, she read the note at least twice before starting to smile. It was like an inside joke and she licked her lips, before folding the note and tossing it in the trash.
“The terms are acceptable,” she said. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
“I work with clients.”
Now in hindsight, my response was foolish, but I didn’t know what else to say. I had a sneaking suspicion what was going to happen, but it just seemed too unbelievable. Like there was no way my boss would put me in a compromising situation with someone she’d called `the enemy’ behind closed doors multiple times.
Isabelle put one foot on the counter and lifted her sparkly dress. Her heels cost more than my outfit. Her toenails were painted red. Her legs, in my opinion, were the product of high rep squats and maybe some running. And then there were her panties, thin, almost see-through, a narrow triangle shape which she pulled to the side. There was her pussy. Waxed. I remember my mind playing tricks on me, like I could smell her arousal.
“Well? A deal is a deal.”
To this day, I was never told what the deal was, but Ms. Hart compensated me very well for easing tensions. That was my first time eating pussy and it was a learning experience. I think part of the reason it was so exhilarating was the literal rush factor. The luncheon was still ongoing and there was a strong chance other attendees could be using the same bathroom.
So I went to my knees and did what I had to do for money. I looked at it up close, Isabelle’s pussy which seemed to get wetter by the second, and I started licking it to her desired way. She gave me instructions on how she liked to be pleased and it was evident she was used to teaching people her preferences.