The Stranger

Chapter 3 - Alex

It had been three months since I moved to the London branch of PSC Marketing from Madrid. They'd brought me in on a 12-month contract to review and implement a new compliance system. The industry had faced recent legislation changes, and PSC was struggling to adjust. I'd dealt with similar challenges in Spain, which made me the perfect candidate. Living in the hotel near the office suited me fine, especially since the company was footing the bill. The bar on the ground floor also meant that I never had to spend the night alone—unless I chose to.

My first week there, I saw her. She was sitting with a friend, looking relaxed and in command of her space. Petite, with honey-blonde waves framing a pair of green—or maybe blue—eyes that hinted at something deeper. She wore confidence like a second skin, an aura that made every half-drunk man in a suit want to approach her. I watched her fend them off, a small smile playing on my lips as I saw that strength, that precision in every rejection. And yet... there was something else in her eyes, something unspoken. Vulnerable. Submissive, even.

I finished my scotch, feeling a pull to get closer. Just as I stood, a voice cut in front of me.

"Hi, handsome."

A random blonde in a white blouse and black skirt wobbled slightly as she leaned toward me, her eyes glossy. I gave her a polite nod.

"Hi," I replied, my tone dismissive.

"I've been watching you sitting here all alone..."

She was attractive, yes. But not my type. Drunk was never my type.

"Thank you," I said with a smile, stepping past her. "Have a good night."

I looked back toward the bar, but the woman was gone.

---

Monday came. First day at the London office, and they spent the entire morning parading me through endless introductions—every boss of every department, each team member I'd be managing. Meetings filled the afternoon, and although I was eager to just start the job, I knew the process was necessary.

The last meeting of the day arrived, and there she was—the woman from the bar. She sat across the table, listening intently, her pen flying across the page as she took notes. She looked focused, the type who could juggle a thousand thoughts without breaking a sweat. Over the next three months, I kept my eye on her, observing from a distance. She was strong. Driven. Consumed with her work and yet never outwardly stressed. She took on more than anyone else and delivered every time. I sat in on a few of her presentations and saw the way people respected her. She was young and beautiful, yes, but she commanded the room with a quiet authority, taking nothing from anyone.

Yet she was overworking herself.

Her file had shown me she hadn't taken a single day off in three years. An oversight on the previous manager's part, no doubt. Cassandra seemed to thrive at work, often one of the first to arrive and the last to leave. I knew because I was usually there when she did both.

Her office was on the same floor as mine, directly across with just a row of cubicles between us. From my desk, I could see her, the faint lines of exhaustion around her eyes, the way her body language said, Stay away, I'm busy, while her eyes seemed to beg for release, for permission to let go.

I remembered her calm dismissal of every man at the bar that night. I needed to get those walls down. She had to let go—and I was going to help her.

One day, I sent her an anonymous note, curious how she'd respond. Wearing pants is not an acceptable behaviour. Wear a dress tomorrow, I'd written in neat script on a small white card.

I watched her open it, saw the flash of anger in her eyes as she placed the card back in its envelope, shoved it in her bag, and stormed out. The reaction was exactly what I'd been hoping for. Something other than calm control or practiced indifference.

I was in.

The next day, I wasn't expecting her to wear a dress. But I was ready, just in case. A smile touched my lips when I saw her arrive, early as always, in a black dress that stopped just above her knees. She didn't seem nervous or thrilled. Just herself. Yet, there was a slight softness in her gaze, a flicker of ease.

We had a meeting first thing in the morning, so I waited for her to leave her office. Once she did, I slipped into her office and left her next gift on her desk—a Bluetooth vibrator, which I controlled. I placed a second note on top of the box: Good girl. Here is your reward.

Anticipating her reaction, I headed to my own desk and watched as she entered her office, lifted the note, and opened the box. I saw her brow furrow as she read the card: Sit on your chair and wear it. Do not leave your chair. This time, her anger was absent; instead, she looked around the office, a trace of hesitation shadowing her face. Then, curiosity won, and she complied.

She wobbled slightly as she sat down, shifting as subtly as she could. No one else noticed, but I knew exactly what she was doing. Before she could even get comfortable, I set off the first vibration.

Lisa entered Cassandra's office a moment later, so I slowed down the intensity, allowing Cassandra to maintain her composure while they spoke. I couldn't hear their conversation, but Cassandra's flushed cheeks and clipped responses told me everything I needed to know. The moment Lisa left, I turned the intensity back up, testing her resilience, pushing her boundaries.

I said, 'Do not leave your chair.'

I sent the text, immediately setting the vibrations higher as I rose from my desk. She tried to stand, clearly intent on making it to the meeting, but her knees gave a little, forcing her to sit back down.

As I reached the lift, I saw her try again, her jaw set, determination tightening her features. I increased the setting once more, smirking as I watched her sink back into her chair. Only when she stilled did I stop the vibrations, giving her a brief relief.

When the elevator arrived, I turned around just in time to see her hand press against the doors, rushing to join. Fighter, I thought, smirking as I set the vibrations even higher, just in time for her to step in.

---

By the time I arrived on the next floor, she was struggling to walk down the hall. I knew she was close. Not just to me, but to the edge. A mere whisper from release.

Do not come until I say you can. I texted, watching the message reach her just as she walked into the meeting room.

"We'll just wait for Cassandra to join before we begin," I said to the room.

The lift doors dinged, and I looked up. Cassandra's gaze met mine, her eyes slightly unfocused, her breaths shallow. She took a few steps, then moved quickly to sit in her chair, steadying herself as she crossed her legs, her fingers white-knuckled on the armrests. She was sat so I gave her a quick rest. She had been so good.

"Please make sure your phones are on silent and not on vibrate, everyone," I said, keeping my face straight. I couldn't resist a faint smirk as I tapped my phone, sending another round of vibrations to her.

That's not YOUR chair.

She bit her lip, her legs pressing tighter together, fighting to keep her composure as I ran the meeting. Every so often, I adjusted the settings, watching as she tightened her grip, her breath catching. I knew she had no idea what I was saying, but it didn't matter.

"I need everyone from marketing at the training next Tuesday. Cassandra, I'll expect you there as our leading expert."

She was completely unfocused. Slowing down the vibrator, I repeated, "Are you coming, Cassandra?"

"Yes," she breathed, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, what am I coming to?" she quickly realised.

The corner of my mouth quirked up. "The compliance training we've been discussing for the last few minutes" I said coldly.

With a final press of my finger, I rewarded her for being such a good girl.

"Thank you," I said smiling, holding her gaze.

She smiled back.