Chapter 1

A preference choice to continue a small but somewhat lucrative law practice with L.P.L Brokerage & Defense (known only to a chosen inner circle as Lesbian Power Legal B&D) easily fore filled my secular desirers and soon became more rewarding in many ways. With the shared caseload, things were less hectic and the overall workweek schedule helped open up my personal time for other more interesting pursuits.

But with this ideal situation came the off set of taking on an additional administrative position as their office manager.

I suppose it did seem (as things were) the perfect office image to my own well-defined dominant private life style, as you will discover.

To dismiss any doubt, this decision did not come about completely by chance and was primarily due to the mutual fact that the firm's main controlling partners were well off female professional lawyers who were all very much lesbian by nature.

Perhaps a minor exception to this statement was the seven other thirty something year old female businesswomen who were, in their own different ways, very much involved in the fem scene. Some of these who tended towards being more into kink and fetishes, I have in the short passing of time, made personally or intimate acquaints with. All of these women are very appealing; well above average in looks and knowingly turned in the same circles.

Oh, I suppose there is one other smaller exception as far as the rest of the office, which has been by no strange coincidence, very well staffed with many other beautiful young women. Most of these however remained somewhat clue-less and are employed in various assistant positions.

Now as for myself, there has never been a need for exaggeration or any reason to be modest, as my own physical appearance has always proven to be very eye catching, being an especially tall statuesque female, (almost 5 foot 11 in bare stocking feet).

So then when I am dressed in heels and wearing my long amber hair pinned high up on my head in a tightly swirled bun, well this easily gives me a desired intrinsic look of status. Authority and control has always been the feminine allure.

In preparation for my début, when I initially greeted they're exclusive female staff, everything had been carefully arranged in just this manner.

Perhaps it was meant to be dramatic and more so shocking when I first walked into the office, pretentiously daunting my shapely hourglass figure; long legs, smooth full hips, streaming waist line and an amply revealed bosom. I was unquestionably stunning and a little intimidating to most of the younger women. This fact was quickly realized even before they found me out to be an extremely dominant minded and out spoken female.

Given my pronounced dominating appearance and the obscure fact of being totally immersed in a relatively kinky life of lesbianism might go on to explain my more decisive behavior in dealing with some of the more flippant and incorrigible girls working there in the office. It had not taken long for some of these female subordinates to conjure reasons to dislike me, although it was usually only a small matter of insisting that they be more diligent.

My decidedly stricter manner soon came to the attention of Ms. Cynthia Mills, one of the older senior partners (forty three to be exact). So maybe several weeks had past when Ms. Mills approached me after just such an incident. I was seated by my self reading a Grecian novel there quietly in the lunchroom when she asked me to please step into her office later on that afternoon so she could have a word.

That afternoon as I neared the reception area we both, by mere chance of circumstance, met just as it appeared she was walking back into the office from her assistance's desk. As I followed behind her back into the office, it became quite noticeable that she had kept a rather slim hourglass figure and seemed to be very physically fit. Even in her accustom well style manner of dress, she easily boasted a lovely (C cup) mantle of cleave as well. Typically she wore her slightly graying, straight shoulder length hair parted down the middle. This was in addition to keeping the bangs pulled back high on ether side of her head with simple barrettes. Surprisingly in a more suitable way, this somewhat simple adolescent hairstyle, though out of place with her maturity, made such a feminine and attractive grade school feature seem perfectly forbidden (so sinful and delicious). Actually, I found Cynthia to be a pleasant female to study as we both stood inside her office near the partially ajar door.

Regretfully she had begun (to some degree) by openly admonishing me. As I suspected, there had been some petty grievances voiced by anonymous sources after one of my reprimands. But shortly after Ms. Mills started with her little verbal slap on the wrist, (as if on cue) we both attentively noticed the somewhat subtle eavesdropping of her rather cute brunette secretary Ann. In light of this frank observation, the door was closed and on her subsequent return, Ms Mills made a rather curious apologetic amends. "Cynthia" (as I was now corrected by her) continued in a hashed voice as she went on to now commend me on my much needed strict administrative actions.

With this she then curiously entrusted me, and was hopeful that I could take care of a certain delicate office matter. Cynthia Mills was quite blunt when saying that there had been a few annoying little petty thefts and felt there might be more of a reason for delegating this to someone possessing a certain subtle manner in discretion. Such things as accusing suspicions or confronting one of committing a theft could easily be a means for unnecessary counter suits without having solid documented proof.

To date, she informed me, there were only small but consistently recurring electronic accounting errors and other trifling discrepancies. Cynthia needed (she felt) a person technically advanced (such as myself) who possessed such strong-handed secular judgment. I had her full approval, although anonymously, to take whatever means necessary with the suspected female culprit in the department. In a twist of irony, she offered the woman's name, one that by now seemed to constantly stand out in my mind. Yes, there it was on the top of my list boldly underlined in red.

Even before Cynthia finished her hushed implications, the garish and adolescently behaved (twenty-three-year-old) Miss Valerie Anne Johnson still loomed vividly in mind sense my resent heated discussion with this exacerbating little high nosed Miss. It had actually come to the point of my thinking that what this unceasingly truant and sassy little up-start needed was just a good firm guiding hand. That is along with one other swatting at that nice pert bottom of hers.

It seemed that nothing short of a true corporal reprimand world make Miss Johnson act more like a reasonably and responsible adult woman. Even when she was in proper attendance, it always became such a chore for her to share in some of the more menial office tasks. If she actually did anything, it was usually accompanied by her infuriating girlish whining and relentless prattling, which would soon be infused with her indecorous manner. I found Miss Johnson's personal persona to be flagrantly intolerable, although in a way it was a natural fitting to her outward physical semblance. That meant being a perfectly matched and stereotypically petite blonde who possessed a very childish superior attitude and seemed in dire need of strict discipline. I suppose Miss Johnson's rather youthful looking appearance could be partially contributed to the fairness of her skin, which showed light freckles when tanned, adorable bright blue eyes and slim, although very shapely school girlish figure. Her hair (although blonde) actually varied with light sandy colors, being medium long in length. Aside from a few various chosen styles, it stayed for the most part straight and naturally silky. When it was pulled back into a ponytail, (which was more so then not) Valerie's small delicate facial features made her look quite a bit younger.

Yes she was virtually just a very young, spoiled, undisciplined, disrespectful, ill-mannered little girl in my thoughts. And despite her undisputable adult age, I still found it rather satisfying to picture Valerie dressed in a shamefully discomfited outfit. But any sensible young woman would feel self-conscious while wearing a short pleated (almost panty high) skirt. This would only fade in comparison to the very naughty and extremely tight fitting blouse. Of course her indiscretion would never be tolerated and there certainly would be serious consequences for a young woman in such an errant state. This demonstration of her shameful behavior and delinquency would finally end after she found herself practically stripped out of her uniform while bent over teacher's knee.

As you can see, I have caught myself fantasizing for some reason about how she needed to be punished like this troublesome pigtailed schoolgirl.

But to continue on, I started my diligent inquiry one evening after hours, going over the particular errant accounts and some corporate investment portfolios.

Some other less tedious endeavors, which seemed more fruitful and enlightening, were spent researching Miss Johnson's past of more insignificant juvenile misdeeds. An intriguing note was the more recent publicly declared Will of Betty Anna Johnson, which became more then, just an interest to me.

Valerie's recently deceased stepmother had left her legally adopted child the remains of a small dwindling estate. Yes it was on public record that the woman had adopted Valerie as an infant.

My enthusiastic persistence in Valerie Johnson's case, so to speak, had only left me with a few possible fraudulent or illegal insider trading investments.

A hand full of account numbers and names of various corporations, which I made a disk copy of after coming across them in a file marked for receipts in her office petty cash account was really less then nothing.

During the following few weeks of being foiled by whatever clever little investment scheme she had contrived, my own personal demeanor grew to that of a caged tigress in heat. Smitten with these pinned in hormonal feelings and my own parallel of horny feline frustration, I finally made the resolve to play my own little cat and mouse game with this audacious little shrew.

Needless to say but in this state of mind, I was more then ready for a little diversion and had already packed my bag for a rather sorted weekend. This came right after a daring decision to dress myself less conservatively that same morning. My mind was primarily focused on the excitement of my ritual weekend hunt that I frequently made around the less known lesbian bars and clubs. In any case, I came into the office that Friday morning ready to kill metaphorically, consciously exuding a sexual eminence even as my projected appearance stayed somewhat outwardly business like. It was sometime later on in the afternoon when I catered to my thoughtful plan of having Miss Valerie Johnson step into my office for a private chat. There could only be, however, a cautious pawing with an instinctive cat-like wit and it's all knowing soul-piercing stare. Nothing more would be used other then the lone black diskette, which now sat atop a scarlet red folder. In itself, this would seem to be the most accusing bit of evidence that lay tellingly in the middle of my desk blotter.

Miss Johnson's obvious defiance in promptly heeding my summons might not have seemed that detrimental to anyone at the time, but it had taunted me even further with her fifteen-minute delay. When she finally paraded in coarsely, Valerie was dressed in a flawlessly matched 60's retro pink outfit. Other then the frilly blouse under her pink two-button flared waist jacket and the white grade school looking panty hose, she was Miss pretty princess pink from head to toe; Shoes, skirt, top lapel coat and a perfectly placed powder puff pink scrunchy holding her long blonde pony-tail. As she was, if it had not been for the mid thigh length pinching tapered skirt, that rather childish looking hairstyle and her characteristic juvenile mannerisms, I would have said that she easily made the Barbie doll silliness of the whole thing work.

"Well okay Elisabeth, you wanted to see me?"

She had balanced herself in between the two desk chairs, precariously poised in a rather overly done sophisticated stance. Valerie's chosen vogue posture had her pivoting heavily on one pink high heel while she rested her finger tips on the back of either chair. In this manner she managed to make quite a showy little display of herself.

"Yes... Although I prefer not be kept waiting Miss Johnson. Now if you would, please take a seat."

As if I had been graced merely by her presents there, she consented rather unwillingly and sat somewhat plainly after an obnoxious little eye roll.

"I hope this doesn't take too long because I'm not counting any of this as part of my afternoon break?"

Oh, how I loathed that pompous little attitude of hers.

"Well Miss Johnson I'm sorry to hear that, because I'm afraid what I have to say is of a very serious nature."

Prudently I watched her subtle body language and slightly batting eye movements just briefly before continuing. It was somewhat notable that my statement of being 'very serious in nature' had affected her carefree spirit drastically. Valerie became a lot less at easy and seemingly more focused on what I had to say. But this was only the first step in trapping my little blonde cheese-stealing mouse.

"Are you aware Miss Johnson of the government penalties for miss handling or falsely appropriated brokerage funds? Freud if you will."

Her sweet girlish hush turned to that of nervous fidgeting and then suddenly erupted into a torrent out pouring of post premature denial or flustered self righteous ridicule, which was followed by her anxious attempt at distancing herself with viability and weak defensive threats.

"I don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about Elisabeth.

... This is absurd, how could anyone get away with such a thing?

... You would need proof or else a very good lawyer.

Clearly, such a look of complete guilt on her face was making my strategic little mouse catching game far too easy. Picking up the black disk, I casually eased myself back away from the desk and crossed my legs with a sly look of confidence.