“So,” John looked up from his desk when he heard that voice, “how’s the project going?”

Emma was a bitch, and everything about how she presented herself reinforced that. If you weren’t in her crosshairs it was enjoyable to get a good long look at her, but if you were… well some people probably got off on the way she would come down on you, even how she would stand too close to you and start micromanaging your existence, but that wasn’t John’s style.

No, he was not the kind of guy that would kiss ass, even if Emma did have a nice, tight, round ass, and he wasn’t the kind of professional who would kowtow and compromise just to appease a client. While it didn’t make him the most agreeable person in the office, it did make him one of the most respected and as a result of that he was kind of a “locker room leader” for the team.

This tended to put him directly at odds with Emma, but they’d come to an understanding, or at least a detente, but now she was standing over his desk, in his office, looking down at him over her horn rimmed glasses.

He smiled up at her from his desk, because it was easy for him to smile at beautiful women, and bitch or not Emma was easy on the eyes, and said, ‘It’s like Rocky Balboa says, ain’t nothing’s over till it’s over.”

“Does your played out sports movie cliche come with a timeline, or is that your cute way of saying you don’t know?” Some people would have thought that was cold, that she was cold, but John knew better. He knew that under her iron straight brown hair, her perfectly put together face, complete with just the right amount of plastic surgery to make her strikingly and conventionally beautiful, and within the fanatically well maintained, and also clearly scientifically augmented body, there beat the heart of a hot, passionate, easily annoyed to the point of near blinding rage, woman who was anything but cold.

John had made a deal with himself a long time ago, he’d antagonize her less, if she was less of a bitch, and while he’d alluded as much to her, while they did have something of a professional cease fire in front of the rest of the team, in private neither one was willing to give an inch.

“It’s my way of saying it’ll be done when it’s done, and since we’re way away from its deadline, does it really matter, Emma?” She was wearing high waisted black slacks and a purple button down today, and sometimes, just sometimes John noticed her buttoning her tops a little lower than other days. 

And while she might have done it for herself, just a  little treat for her in making the men in the office double or triple take her chest, he was pretty sure the days she did it, she was doing it just to fuck with him. And fair game to her, because she would always make a point to talk to him about something, usually something prickly, with enough buttons being open to practically show him her bra.

It didn’t make him take what she had to say any better, and usually he leaned into being more confrontational, but there was always a moment where he’d be sitting at his desk staring at her tits like he was a fucking child. He knew it, she clearly knew it, and just like everything else between them, it was something private and viscous they kept to themselves.

Sometimes when she’d pull that move on him he’d make a point not to make eye contact with her at all and talk directly to her tits, and it seemed like neither one of them was clear on which was the bigger ‘fuck you’, so they just continued on, trying to figure out it out.

“And thinking it doesn’t matter is why you don’t have my job, John.” She had her tall heels on today, and she was leaning into the whole height equals power cliche that John, who could stand up and still look down on her in those heels… just a little bit, but still… simply didn’t buy into. Oh no, the person standing up must be the most important, it was enough to make him roll his eyes, and he did. “And since you don’t have my job that means you’re not the one in charge, and I know you understand that simple logic, but you refuse to know your place in things and I’m tired of it.”

“I’m tired,” she unbuttoned a few buttons down to her most aggressive, “plain, fucking tired of our games John. I was thinking about you last night in the bath and I was thinking about how you used to be fun, how you were a challenge…”

She put her hands on his desk next to his screen and leaned forward, “And I realized you were never going to realize it was time to stop fighting, to stop being an ass, and to just learn to go along with things. I humored you because I liked our games, but you clearly missed the memo about how you can’t win.”

“And you think the boobs are going to change my mind?” Sure those tits would change someone’s mind, absolutely, but as nice as her double D’s were, maybe even double E’s, he didn’t know, there was too much bullshit attached to them to make her showing some skin make her more persuasive.”

“Oh John,” she looked down at him over her glasses, “They already have.”

She had that shitty shit eating grin on her face, and he hated the fact it was actually a very pretty smile. Emma was pretty, and he had to take stock of her and her tits as she stared down at him. She really was in great shape, and he guessed exercise was probably her only hobby, that and tanning… but not too much tanning, just the right amount, he guessed to always have a solid base for sunny, tropical vacations which he knew she took. Her straight, long, dark hair and her glasses really did make her look severe sometimes, but she really did have a beautiful smile and when she flashed it at him like she was doing right now, he really wished to god that she wasn’t such a bitch.

“Really?” He pushed his chair back from his desk and looked up at her… not her brown eyes, but her tanned, deep cleavage, and then up to her eyes. “How so?”

“You’re not going to believe me,” she took her hands off his desk and undid another button, revealing a simple black bra that had the same shimmer to it that her blouse did. “You’d be better off just admitting that you’re ready to get in line, and that you’ve been trying to fight it, but it’s been getting harder and harder over the last two months to keep putting up a fight, pushing back, and finding your own asshole way to do what you’re told just so you feel like you’re not giving in.”

“That’s not what happened, and this” god, he was staring at those tits, staring right into the center of her chest, taking in the perfect sight before him. “All this…”

She traced a clean nail down her cleavage, “You’re not complaining, you never do. You just stare at them, or you look deep into my eyes, and you might fight, and argue, but any time you feel yourself getting too worked up, you just take a deep, centering breath… kind of like right now… and still focus very closely on everything I’m saying. You listen closely, just as closely as you stare, as you’re staring right now, John, and while you consciously think it’s so you can say something back and argue, you’re still listening to me, hanging…”

Her finger traced the top of one of the cups of her bra, “On my every word. And it doesn’t matter if you think you’re not internalizing what I’m saying, your subconscious mind processes everything and forms a complete tapestry of events, logic, and experience. So, while part of you acts out, another part of you…”

Her finger traced down the cup and she practically fondled her tit  right in front of him, “Finds itself completely focused on me and everything I say…”

She slowly moved her hands down to undo the last few buttons of her blouse and opened it, showing of her tanned abs and the full shape of her big tits and he realized he’d been sitting there, silently staring, breathing slowly and listening to her as her voice got softer and more seductive, but still tinged with that little bit of spite.

“And the worst part for you is,” she turned around and locked his office door and looked over her shoulder as her blouse fell off it, still looking over her glasses at him like a sexy librarian that was also a bikini model, “since you’re a logical guy and I’m a logical woman, and the human mind is naturally inclined to logic when it’s explained, your subconscious mind is already agreeing with me even when you’re fighting with me.”

She turned back to him and took her blouse the rest of the way off, and he looked at her standing in his office, naked from the waist up except for her bra, her hair down and her hands now playing with her tits, and for some reason it was easier to just sit there and stare than it was to fight with his super hot nemesis.

“I’m just waiting for the rest of you to realize it’s better to just follow my lead, do what you’re told, and accept your place below me…” She walked around his desk, stood right between his legs as he sat in his office chair and looked down at his face, his eyes soft and heavy, his jaw loose. “Where you are right now, and where you’ll always be.”

“What,” he blinked, felt himself take a deep breath, and cleared his mind, “what the fuck are you talking about.”

He made to stand up, but she held a finger up and waved it in front of his face, “Uh-uh, you just stay right there.”

It was the weirdest thing, while all of this was undeniably hot, and weird, when she started wagging her finger in his face he felt a foggy need to just sort of follow her finger. “I was going to ask you what you know about hypnosis, but you just answered that.”

Her finger was still wagging, and he looked past it to look past her tits again and up into her eyes, into the gaze of a predator staring down at him.

“Why would I know anything about hypnosis,” he was finding it hard not to just watch her finger moving back and forth, then he really thought about the conversation they were having for a second, and laughed,  “Why are you even talking about hypnosis? Are you trying to hypnotize me? With your finger?”

Back and forth her finger moved, then the wave moved down into her wrist, then her arm, then she was doing a little belly dance sway in front of him, her tits replacing the finger moving back and forth, “Not with my finger, but I could, no…”

She kept her sway even as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, “Not with my finger.”

And there they were, two large, wonderfully big and perfect tits on her tight, thin, well muscled frame, her long dark hair, down her back, and her hands grabbing hold of his shoulder, “Just look at them John, and notice that the more you try and look away, the more you can’t help but stare. You can laugh, but that just makes it happen faster. And you should laugh, because it’s funny that it’s taken this long, isn;t it? It’s funny that you’re so stubborn, and stupid that you couldn’t let yourself have this earlier.”

She still had her glasses on and she was rolling and swaying her torso in front of him, practically giving him a lap dance, his feet planted wide as she swayed between his spread legs. “All you ever do is fight yourself John,” she rolled in close and almost pressed her tits all over his face. “It’s why you never got anywhere, it’s why you haven’t gotten anywhere with me, until now.”

“You can’t,” he watched those naked tits, big and perfect, “hypnotize me, that’s…” He was going to say ridiculous, or stupid, or dumb. He was going to say something, but then a nipple brushed his lips and she said…

“Already happened,” he felt his shoulders sink a little and his head tilted ever so slightly and felt her tits push gently on his face before she stopped her dance and stood still looking down at him, “and it was easy to get in your head, so easy. The only hard part’s been making you realize I was in your head. It would have worked better if you thought agreeing with me was your own idea, but, you’re too dumb to stop fighting with yourself… you’re too stubborn and dumb to get out of your own way. And by the time everyone gets back from lunch, I’ll have made you admit it.”