The story “Office romance. Office romance: four stories about true love
They say that romance at work should be taboo for any self-respecting girl. But we are all living people and, when we come to work, we do not lose the ability to fall in love. What happens to those who break the taboo? Read real stories about romances with bosses.
Got pregnant and he fired me
Everything went wrong for me. After the divorce, I got a job at a computer company. What to hide, I was looking for love. And I myself didn’t expect that I would have a crazy spin. affair with the boss. He turned out to be a greedy guy, I didn’t receive gifts from him, but the bonus was stable, he didn’t offend me. It was good in bed with him, and he’s not a bad person... And then I got knocked up by him. And somehow I felt offended, sorry for myself that I was alone again with my problems. Only joint sex at work. Nerves to hell, she started throwing hysterics, demanding that he divorce his wife, the fool. Not so.
He offered money for an abortion, and two weeks later... he fired me, that is, he forced me to write a statement. He said: that’s enough, his wife will guess, and in general he didn’t mean “anything like that.” So I was left without a boss and without a job.
Elena, 26 years old, Moscow
When I pulled myself together, he fell in love
This story happened recently, it still hurts. On a slushy March day I went for an interview. A stunningly handsome man spoke to me - I felt an abnormal erotic excitement. He turned out to be the executive director. For the first week I couldn’t think about work because I only thought about him. Then she barely pulled herself together, and then he went crazy. In a word, we began a full-fledged office romance. During the day - work, all nights - together. Finally, I decided to quit because it was unpleasant to see employees looking askance. We still dated for three months, and then ran away - we turned out to be very different, not “halves” at all. I'm very sorry that I lost my good job. Alas, you can't fall in love in the service.
Svetlana, 27 years old, Tula
The boss proposed to me
My affair with the boss ended in marriage. Now he is my legal husband and the father of our wonderful son. And it all started quite romantic. One day I was late at work and was sitting in an empty office. I hear the door being opened, it turns out that the boss forgot something. And nothing ever happened between us. We worked together for a whole year, and there were no “movements of the heart.” And here we sit, word for word, he told about himself (divorced, adult daughter, recently moved to Holland, they didn’t even tell him), I about myself (divorced, no children, empty evenings). An hour later I was sure that he was my old close friend. Well, off we go. After 3 weeks, we went to Finland together, then to Prague... And after 3 months, the “boss” proposed to me.
Valeria, Moscow, 34 years old
The employees “ate me”
Work is a woman’s whole life, no matter what they say. To achieve something, you need to work 8 hours every day. The schedule is tight, so where are romances possible? At work.
And it’s better with the boss Ivan Ivanovich than with the mechanic Vasya or the engineer Petya. True, it doesn’t always work out as it should. For example, I’m sad, and I’ll continue to pull the burden of my career, apparently. The first time there was a typical story: I’m 25, he’s 45. But then a younger lady appeared and I was sent out. The second time was with his deputy. He gave gifts, took it with him on weekends, and promoted it little by little. But the women ate me up and drove me out of the department with dirty gossip and unbearable attitude. Here it is, the envy of the deprived! But the lover did not defend. Now I'm in a different department, a new one is brewing affair with the boss. I'm already without enthusiasm, to be honest.
Veronica, 27 years old, St. Petersburg
Anonymous messages were written to his wife
The worst thing about hazing with your boss is the evil tongues. Moreover, both women's and men's are the same. And although we hid our relationship and behaved quite carefully, society knew everything. Any gesture of sympathy towards me, even a routine smile, caused real attacks of hatred among those around me. I had to leave work. But “society” did not rest on this. My lover was married, perhaps this is what provoked such harsh negativity. And so former employees began to write anonymous mocking letters to his wife. I think if it were a business structure, the situation would not be so ugly. But we worked in a government office... In general, we broke up. Couldn't stand the pressure...
Svetlana, St. Petersburg, 39 years old
I sleep peacefully and rarely cry
In my early youth I fell in love so much that it will last me forever. Do not want anymore. Behind me is an unsuccessful marriage plus correctly drawn conclusions (I hope). I intend to live well and with great benefit. Three years ago I joined the company as an ordinary specialist and almost immediately quit affair with the boss.
Nice man, late fifty, married, what else do you need? Ideal conditions! Since then, I have been living happily, getting everything I want - diamonds, individual tours to Europe, rags. And stable career advancement forward and upward.
I’m not complaining about the salary and bonuses either. I sleep peacefully, rarely cry, and call my benefactor “angel.” I show respect for his wife, I don’t pretend to do anything serious. I recently got my license - my boss promised to give me a Mazda... I can’t guess what will happen next. I will never suffer because of men again.
Marianna, Moscow, 32 years old
We only broke up when he moved
My affair with my boss lasted 7 years. And it would have continued further, but he moved with his family to a southern coastal town. All the employees were in the know, they were plotting whatever they could, but we weren’t particularly worried. He always helped me, helped me advance, paid for my son’s college tuition, and found the best doctors for my mother. We had normal family relationships, I would say so. They just slept in different houses at night, and the rest of the time they were close. And they understood each other perfectly, and the two of them knew how to remain silent. Why did you break up? Now we correspond via ICQ like children. Not about love - about the weather. No more frank conversations. Wall. We need to end this, otherwise it hurts.
Alexandra, 46 years old, Murmansk
The boss took petty revenge for refusal
The worst thing is the end of a relationship. So before you start an affair with your boss, look for another job. Remember, it ends someday, and I don’t believe in the Cinderella story. We had a classic office romance, where he is a chauvinist careerist, and I am a woman obliged to remain silent and follow orders.
When I realized that I didn’t want to be an eternal mistress, and I couldn’t divorce him from his wife, I ended the relationship and threw myself into work.
Alas, the boss turned out to be a rather petty person. He began to load me with work, give reprimands and similar abominations. And so I endured for about six months. I thought it would cool down, but in vain. She pulled a cart and a small cart of insults from him, sidelong glances and angry hisses from colleagues loyal to the boss. In general, I couldn’t stand it and left.
The devil dared me to put on these shoes today!" - flashed through the mind of the young teacher more than once. She hardly lowered her head, held by the elegant neck by a leather dog collar, to look at these now hated shoes with a high and graceful stiletto heel and immediately felt pain in shoulders with hands behind her back, handcuffed, connected to a collar. “It’s good that the collar is not strict,” flashed through Stella’s brain and she shuddered all over from the figurative picture of how the spikes of a strict collar were digging into the flesh of her neck.
She wore these shoes for the first time today. These shoes have been her dream for a long time. She imagined herself dancing a waltz, imagined the admiring glances of men constantly watching her beautiful, slender legs, tight from constant sports dancing in her free time, made even sexier by the classic black shoes that adorned them. And so, finally, Stella bought them, but, unable to resist, put them on to school today, calming herself with the thought that she needed to get used to the shoes and trying to deceive another desire - the desire to once again feel the gaze of a man who was more and more possessed her soul and body, the look of her colleague Mark. She complemented her charming appearance with a blazer with a miniskirt (a sort of boss lady) and black stockings, held on the hips with elastic bands, hidden by the lace top of the stockings. This morning she spent a long time looking at herself in the mirror, turning, pacing, deciding what color panties and bra would suit those slender legs, covered in nylon stockings and decorated with shoes. "Black, only black!" - she decided for herself, examining her slender, naked body in the mirror, adorned only with stockings and shoes. Stella was unable to admit to herself that she was crazy about her own attractiveness.
And these simultaneously elegant and sexy-looking shoes played a cruel joke on Stella. Their straps, wrapped around the ankles of the legs and crisscrossing each other at the bend of the foot and lower leg, made it impossible to take off the shoes without the help of hands. And how I wanted it! She stood with her back to the student's table, the edge of the tabletop was cutting into her buttocks, and her legs were unnaturally wide apart, being handcuffed separately to each of the pair of supports of this table. It was difficult to stand like that, leaning on high stiletto heels, and considering that it was already the second hour of such “standing,” it became simply unbearable. And then there are these straps! If it weren’t for them, Stella would have long ago thrown off these hated and beautiful shoes, but they were like an objective reality that, whether you like it or not, you have to reckon with.
Stella could not call anyone for help. It would be simply terrible, indescribably scary if one of the school employees saw her in this position! It’s a shame that doesn’t take long to kill oneself! And physically she could not call for help if she had such a desire. Her mouth was filled with a gag made from a piece of foam rubber wrapped in her black panties. This is disgusting material - foam rubber! Incredibly soft and pliable, it fills the entire oral cavity and because of this softness and pliability, it is simply impossible to push it out of your mouth with your tongue.
It was hard to stand like that at first, but then it was simply unbearable and painful. It was also impossible to sit on the edge of the table: the bracelets of the handcuffs that held Stella’s ankles were prevented from moving up the table supports by the crossbar for student legs welded to the table supports. Stella was afraid to bend her knees and fall to the floor: her hands were handcuffed behind her back and pulled to the collar. When you fall, you will inevitably smash your face on the floor.
The calf muscles and thigh muscles initially hurt from tension. Gradually the pain dulled. “They’re numb,” Stella decided to herself. But to the unpleasant sensations in her hardened legs was added another, strange, languor that so rarely visited her in the lower abdomen and the coolness from the evaporating moisture appearing on the surface of her labia, open with her legs spread apart and uncovered by her panties. “It’s strange, I’m wet...” flashed through Stella’s mind. - “Is this possible if it’s unpleasant?”
Stella closed her eyes and pictures of recent events began to pass before her. Indeed, today Stella was more charming than ever. She felt it immediately as soon as she left her laboratory, where she always changed clothes before and after classes during the cold season. It was warm at school and in outdoor clothes she would have been hot and would inevitably sweat. There were more men in their school than in any other school in the city, although the school was not the largest. And so all these men stopped in the corridor and looked at her, as if spellbound, somehow restrainedly, with a breath, greeted her, and followed them with their gaze for a long time when she moved away from them, beautifully rearranging her slender legs and proudly carrying her head with collected dark brown, almost black, hair in a bun at the back of the head. The looks of women today were also different from those that greeted her yesterday. They showed genuine interest in her appearance and the hard-to-conceal envy of some and the jealousy of others.
But she was interested in the reaction of only one person, one in the whole school - Mark.
He was twenty years older than Stella and married. But at some point, a warm and trusting relationship began between Mark and Stella, during which Stella learned about Mark’s second, secret life, which was known to a very narrow circle of people, people to one degree or another close to this man. This second life of Mark attracted and attracted Stella more and more. This life was immaterial, virtual, filled with fantasies and dreams, far from reality. Mark began to write down his fantasies and from these fantasies stories were formed, which were once offered to Stella for reading. After reading them, Stella felt a state that she would not dare characterize unambiguously. This hidden world of dreams and fantasies frightened and enchanted at the same time, as if you were standing on a balcony without railings - and you wanted to look down and were afraid that this height would pull you down and there were no railings to hold on. Stella and Mark lingered together more and more often, either in the empty teacher's room, when they both had "windows" between lessons, then in Mark's class, where Stella was studying with the laggards, or in the laboratory of her office, and talked and talked, listening attentively to each other. each other and looking for the necessary phrases, then interrupting each other, throwing out phrases that are not connected with one another by prepositions and case endings, not stylistically perfected, but understandable only to the two of them. In public, they hid the relationship that suddenly arose, were even with each other and had conversations with each other that are usually called official.
In one of these spontaneous and heated conversations, Stella admitted to Mark that sometimes she wanted to be in the place of the heroines from his fantasies. It would be more correct to say that she didn’t “confess,” but Mark himself asked her about it, and she just nodded her head in embarrassment and barely intelligibly said: “Yes, perhaps...” It often happened that Mark seemed to read her thoughts and speak for her. something she had only thought about, but would never have dared to say. “I will look for an opportunity for this,” Mark said then.
He was in the staff room, sitting at the table and looking through the class magazine, something teachers often do before going to class. Besides him, there were five or six other people in the teachers' room. Stella entered the staff room and noted the reaction of the people there to her appearance, a reaction to which she had already become accustomed in the short time she was walking from her laboratory to the teacher’s room. Mark pretended not to notice Stella’s new image, muttered something in response to Stella’s greeting, which she addressed to everyone in the staff room, and again went deeper into studying the magazine. But Stella could not be fooled by this; she briefly noted how Mark, with her arrival, became all tense and tense, the skin on his cheekbones became tense, and his study of the magazine became deliberately intent. No words were needed to understand: the effect had an effect. Only the damned conspiracy did not allow Mark to openly express his admiration for Stella’s appearance. Then the bell rang and everyone headed to their offices. Mark caught up with Stella and caught up with her. "I want you so much!" - he said quietly, without turning his head. She was already accustomed to this kind of expression of feelings from Mark, but smiled shyly in response. This assessment of her appearance was worth all the rest.
“This iron is starting to get pretty bad!” - thought Stella, once again turning on and off the computer, which had once again settled in her laboratory after repairs. The computer was hopelessly outdated, but it would still be suitable for printing texts, assignments, cards, and maintaining a catalogue. It would be good if it didn’t “hang out” with regular and enviable constancy. She leaned back in her chair and stretched, then looked at her watch.
“It’s half past two, there’s probably no one at school anymore,” she automatically noted to herself. And then the door to the laboratory room creaked slightly, Stella’s heart sank, and her lower stomach ached sweetly. It could only be him.
"Hello!" - he said somehow casually.
- “You keep trying to tame this iron? It would be happy to tame itself, but it can’t even raise its head.”
“Hope dies last,” Stella replied jokingly. While they were exchanging these words, Mark found himself behind Stella sitting on a chair. She automatically noted that the pockets of his jacket were bulging, and his right hand was hiding something behind his back. Stella was already accustomed to the fact that Mark, when no one was at school, allowed himself to touch her, hug her, stroke her and even kiss her neck, but she took it for granted, given the warmth of the relationship that once existed between them. Mark’s left hand habitually ended up on Stella’s neck and began to stroke the skin, moving first to the chin and throat, then ending up on the left cheek. She responded to the affection, pressing her face to this warm and slightly rough palm. Suddenly, Stella felt something metal touch the back of her neck and at the same time some kind of spasm ran through her body, all the muscles of her body tensed at once and consciousness left her.
Stella slowly came to her senses. For some reason there was not enough air, and my mouth was very dry. She tried to take a deep breath, but the air came only through her nose, and something in her mouth was preventing the movement of air, and the muscles around her mouth themselves ached from tension. The mouth was filled with something. Stella opened her eyes and reached out to her mouth to take that “something” out of her mouth, but her hand immediately stopped its movement and pulled her other hand along with it. Stella felt metal bracelets on her wrists. "Handcuffs!" - a guess flashed through, and my heart began to beat wildly, and my lower abdomen began to ache. She tried to calm down and soberly assess her situation. Mark sat half-sitting on the table opposite Stella, leaning one leg on the floor and watching with curiosity the teacher come to her senses. Next to him on the table lay some kind of device the size of a mobile phone with protruding short cone-shaped metal tips.
“This is a stun gun, Stella,” Mark explained, noticing his captive’s gaze fixed on the device.
- “With his help, I made you so pliable and was able to put all these decorations on you without unnecessary noise and persuasion.” Only after these words did Stella feel something tight on her neck, albeit loosely. "Collar!" - a terrible guess flashed through her mind, but despite all the horror of this guess, her lower abdomen began to ache even stronger and sweeter. She tried to move her legs, but they too were hampered by the narrow bracelets on her ankles. Tightening her abs and thigh muscles, Stella straightened her legs and, holding them suspended, began to examine them. Her slender, tight legs, covered in black stockings and shod in high-heeled shoes, the crossing straps of which made these legs even more sexy, were decorated with chrome bracelets of two pairs of handcuffs. Exactly decorated - Stella couldn’t find another word right now. “Once again I am convinced that it is not precious stones and other trinkets, but handcuffs, ropes and shackles that are the real adornment of a beautiful woman,” Mark continued, observing the actions of his captive. - “Nature makes a woman, initially a female, attractive so that she belongs to a male, in our case, a man. You can completely and unconditionally own a beautiful female by capturing her and making her your slave. However, you can also buy ownership rights to a slave from another owner, which excites my imagination no less. Suffice it to recall Lermontov’s poem “The Tambov Treasurer” All other relationships between a man and a woman are conditional and similar to a game with pre-agreed rules. “But why are there two handcuffs on my legs? One would have been enough, especially since I’m not going to break free and call for help?” - Stella thought, but she couldn’t say it out loud: the gag that was bursting her mouth was in the way. - “And why did you have to shut my mouth, did I want it myself, or is he so slow-witted?”
Mark seemed to read her thoughts. As soon as Stella thought about the gag, Mark already had a ready answer. “My dear Stella, I will cause you some inconveniences that will cause you unpleasant sensations, and in order for you to react to them silently, I was forced to gag your mouth. You probably never imagined that your panties could act in such a capacity ? But they were so small that I increased the volume of the gag by wrapping it in them with a piece of foam." Before Stella had time to get scared from the assumption of possible “unpleasant sensations” and “some inconveniences”, from the thought that, on top of everything else, she was also without panties, when Mark jumped off the table and took out from his trouser pocket a small padlock, the kind used for postal mail. boxes, opened it with the same small key and went behind Stella. If it weren’t for the gag, she would have groaned or howled in pain, but she only closed her eyes and took a strong breath through her nose: behind her back, Mark took hold of the chain of handcuffs, sharply pulled them up, to the neck, painfully twisting Stella’s hands, and connected the middle one with a lock. handcuff chain link with leash ring on Stella's collar. Stella's head fell back, pulled back by the collar.
Mark leaned over Stella and began to gently kiss her face, carefully licking away the tears that came out of her eyes. Then he returned to his previous place, but did not sit on the table, but, squatting down, began stroking her slender, beautiful legs covered in stockings with his warm, slightly rough palms, kneading her tight calves, clasping her handcuffed ankles with his thumbs and forefingers, trying to do the same above her knees, sometimes moving to the upper part of her thighs and buttocks, uncovered by stockings, covering these bare places with more and more passionate kisses. Despite the dull pain in the shoulders and wrists of her twisted arms, Stella became aroused and began to breathe heavily and frequently. Mark straightened up, took out another key from his trouser pocket - for the handcuffs, and, bending over her legs again, opened the bracelet of the upper handcuffs on the teacher’s left ankle and the lower ones on the right. He then placed his hands under Stella's armpits and helped her rise from the chair.
She, staggering on unsteady legs, stood in front of Mark with her chin unnaturally raised, with her hands clasped behind her back, so helpless that Mark hugged her, tightly pressing her small breasts to his, and began to cover her chin and neck, crossed by the stripe of the collar, with kisses. The teacher moaned through the gag and clenched her thighs, squatting slightly, held by Mark's embrace. Suddenly interrupting the caresses, he grabbed Stella’s left shoulder with her hand twisted behind her back and pulled her along with him, through the door, into Stella’s office adjacent to the laboratory assistant. She could barely keep up with him on her legs, weak and unstable because of the high heels. The open rings of the handcuffs rattled dully and discordantly on the floor covering, accompanying the click of her heels.
Taking her to the first student table in the middle row, he turned her back to the table. When the sharp edge of the tabletop touched Stella's hips, he ordered her: “Spread your legs, wider, even wider! Come on!” Crouching in front of her wide-spread legs, Mark snapped the loose cuff bracelets onto the opposite posts of the table. Then he straightened up and, taking a couple of steps back, admired his work. "You are beautiful!" - he said with a breath, looking her up and down several times with a gaze burning with delight and desire. - “You can’t imagine how beautiful you are in this helplessness of yours! I want you so much! I don’t want to be banal, but you were created for chains and ropes.” He admired her for a long time until he said, going up to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her neck above the collar: “Stella, my dear, we both need to calm down.” After that, he turned sharply, walked up to the office door, inserted the key into the lock, turned it, sharply opened the door, and, also abruptly closing it, turned the key in the lock again, leaving Stella alone in the office in her very peculiar and seductive position, with hands twisted behind his back and handcuffed, an unnaturally raised chin, a stretched-out gagged mouth, legs widely spaced and handcuffed to the posts of the student's table, deprived of the opportunity to relax his legs, sitting on the edge of this table.
A strange condition: tears of pain ooze from the eyes from the cramped muscles of the feet, calves, thighs, buttocks, shoulders, neck..., and the lower abdomen aches pleasantly and at the same time with the pain in the body there is languor, which happens with an acute desire for intimacy and orgasm. Stella closed her eyes and imagined herself either as a beautiful captive in the dungeon of a maniac rapist or a slave dealer, or as a prize in the cabin of the captain of a pirate ship, or as a recluse in the torture chamber of the Inquisition. She imagined and expected that HE would now enter - her Master, Master, Ruler, Kidnapper and... From the ideas of what would happen next, Stella’s legs began to buckle, and the desire that was wandering somewhere below became stronger and the evaporating moisture in the perineum felt pleasantly cold. The key in the door turned and Mark appeared on the threshold of the classroom. Never has his appearance been as welcome as now. Stella automatically glanced at the clock hanging above the board and noted to herself that about an hour and a half had passed since he left her, chained to the table. Mark, without saying a word, locked the door behind him, walked up to his captive, sat down and began stroking her wide-spread beautiful legs, stretching their tense muscles. A light rustling sound came from under her Master’s palms as he ran them over this warm monolith covered in stockings. From time to time, his warm, dry palms found themselves on the inside of the thighs uncovered by stockings and penetrated into the damp warmth, his fingers groped the clitoris... and Stella could not hold back the moans breaking through the gag, while her legs slightly bent and straightened at the knees, and the muscles of the perineum squeezed Mark's palm with the force of a handshake. The hand left the clitoris alone, but instead it was again subjected to sweet torture by Mark’s tongue, and his palms stroked and kneaded the teacher’s tight buttocks. Stella lost count of the orgasms.
For a moment she forgot, and when it became clearer again, she realized that her blazer was unbuttoned, she should have forgotten about the miniskirt right away, since it had ridden up due to her widely spaced legs even when Mark was chaining them to the table posts, blouse was also unbuttoned, and the bra did not cover her small, neat breasts, but was moved somewhere higher, on her collarbones. Mark's warm hands stroked and kneaded her buttocks, and his lips caressed her hard nipples. But there was another, unusual and pleasant sensation at the same time, there, between my legs. Something hot and hard touched the wet lips of her vagina, moved along them, sliding along the lubricant, sometimes penetrating deeper, lightly pressing on the clitoris. Mark's eyes closely but warmly watched the face of the captive teacher, and when they met Stella's beautiful green eyes, covered with a cloud, they read a passionate plea in them: “Yes! Yes! I beg you! I am yours! Take me all, do with me, whatever you want, just take it!”
Stella felt Mark’s hard, hot phallus slowly but decisively penetrate her wet and hot vagina, as if impaling the teacher on himself, penetrating into the very depths of her flesh. And so he, like a piston in a well-oiled cylinder, moved up and down, now increasing and then slowing down the pace of his movement. The walls of the vagina rhythmically contracted and relaxed with every movement of this organ. For a moment, his movement slowed down and Stella suddenly felt his powerful beating inside her, which was immediately transmitted to her. Handcuffed and impaled on the phallus, the captive trembled finely with her whole body and began to thrash, the walls of her vagina with incredible force enveloped her Master’s member, from under the gag a protracted moan of incredible strength was heard and Stella immediately went limp and her body lost its elasticity, her legs buckled. If it weren't for Mark's strong hug, she would have fallen to the floor.
When her mind became clear again, Stella found herself standing in front of Mark. Her legs were disconnected from the metal table posts, and the bracelets on both ankle cuffs were connected to each other. The pain in her shoulders and wrists subsided, and her throat no longer felt the pressure of the collar: her hands were disconnected from the collar, but still cuffed together behind the captive's back. The mouth was free of the gag. Stella lowered her eyes and saw the aroused flesh of her Master standing in front of her. Without even realizing it, she took a short step back with her beautiful legs handcuffed and knelt down in front of Mark. Her lips touched the hot, hard and slippery head of his erect penis and kissed it. With a few light kisses she walked along the shaft of the organ, on which a few minutes ago she was squirming and beating in orgasm, and returned to the head again. Slowly and hesitantly, her lips wrapped around the head, her teeth bit lightly at the root, and her tongue began to fly around it, licking up the remaining sperm and licking it like a polished surface. Mark's eyes closed, he took a deep breath, his hands lay on the back of the kneeling teacher's head and pressed on it, as if pushing her head with her mouth onto his hard penis.
Mark's right hand grabbed a strand of Stella's dark brown, almost black hair. He pulled her by that tail of hair and freed his penis from the embrace of her lips. Then Mark, without letting go of her hair, pulled Stella up by it. Overcoming the pain at the roots of her hair, she rose from her knees with difficulty. The handcuffs on her legs prevented her from doing it faster and with more dexterity. Mark, without letting go of the tail of straight dark hair from his right hand, grabbed Stella by the left shoulder above the elbow with his free hand and, pulling him towards himself, sharply turned his captive back to him, then threw her onto the table to which she had recently been chained. Now Mark’s right hand held Stella by the collar, preventing her head from hanging down, since the top of the student’s table was narrow. Sticking his foot between the shackled legs of his victim, he spread them as far as the handcuffs that bound them would allow. With his left hand, he inserted his penis into the still wet vagina of the captive teacher, then with the same hand he squeezed the chain of handcuffs on Stella’s hands cuffed behind her back and forcefully entered her. Stella screamed, but the throat compressed by the collar did not allow this cry of passion to escape with all its fullness. Having slightly strangled his victim in this way, Mark raped his beautiful colleague with renewed vigor.
Relaxed and held by Mark by the collar, handcuffed on her arms and legs, Stella was reclining on the student’s table. Behind her, without removing his penis from her vagina, stood Mark, pressing against her tight buttocks. With his free hand he stroked the buttocks of his captive, who had just been raped by him.
“Mark, my Master!” Stella said in a muffled voice, turning her head slightly towards him. “What are you doing to me! Now I can’t live without this! One day I’ll get married, how can I live without meetings with you, without your ropes?” , handcuffs, fantasies?..."
“Stella, my dear girl!” Mark answered with a smile. “I’m not the only one in this world. You’ll meet someone else, just like me, and maybe even better, with fantasies more refined and varied than mine.” for now... This is not our last meeting. Now you won’t be able to live without this. You yourself will ask and beg me for THIS!”
Who among us has not watched the Soviet comedy “Office Romance”, where the awkward Novoseltsev tries to hit on the strict director Lyudmila Prokofievna for the sake of promotion! After a series of funny incidents and ridiculous situations, the affair develops into a sincere feeling between two lonely people, and the audience is treated to a happy ending. In life, “like in the movies” it rarely turns out, although office romances arise in almost every institution, be it the warehouse of a hardware store or a medical residency.
Particularly persistent ones, of course, adhere to the rule “You shouldn’t shit where you eat” (read “work”), because fiery feelings can quickly come to an end, and then try to find a new job. Others cannot resist and still have an affair at work. We talked with Petrozavodsk residents and learned three real love stories.
Nastya and her reflective story
“I was on vacation when a colleague called me and told me that we had a new employee in our office. I remember I was still scared why they were calling me from work, what if something urgent happened, but I still wanted to rest! It turned out that my colleague simply missed me and at the same time shared news from work. I was not at all happy about this news. A colleague can be called practically a friend, we sat together in the same office, had lunch together and walked at lunchtime, chatted and laughed, and sometimes went to visit each other. She was so much fun, and now she is transferred to another floor, and another person is already working in our office!
And this is a man! His friend has already taught him everything, explained the specifics of the institution, and I’ll come, if not to my own office... You won’t be able to talk secrets with a man in the workplace and you won’t laugh like you can with a friend, of course, and even your every move will have to be controlled. Oh! I was even a little offended: they could have warned me, and my friend could have called as soon as she found out about the personnel transfers. And who the man is is still unknown. Although my colleague said that he was okay, tall, normal in manners, handsome, and generally hinted that I should like him. If she had not said this, maybe nothing would have happened, just colleagues, employees. But at these words, something skipped a beat somewhere deep in my heart, and I unconsciously prepared myself for intrigue. Like this: a friend intrigued me, and I developed an intrigue.
Actually, I'm married. Long and lasting. But, probably, not firmly enough, since I got into this story. I’ll be honest: I can’t explain how this happened. Slowly, little by little, like an avalanche of snow - and cannot be stopped. Who else would know if it should be stopped? I never believed in the phrase “I’m confused,” and this happened to me. I condemn myself and am pleased with myself: I’m such a femme fatale, I’ll get whoever I want! Such is the dual essence of women.
Previously, everything in my life was simple: I studied, married a man I knew from school, got a job. I didn’t particularly believe in feelings. It’s time to have a wedding, well, we played, we live, we’re raising our daughter. The husband is somehow on his own, he brings money, and it’s good. And passions, feelings - this only happens in the movies. But, apparently, something was missing. I'm bored or something. Or you wanted it to be “like in the movies.”
For the rest of my vacation, I was fueled by curiosity about who the man was in my office. And when I saw it, I was even disappointed: it was really “nothing,” as my colleague said, just nothing special. There was no such spark between us. I ran to work early - to make up for lost time during the vacation, well, curiosity spurred me on, and he came in, said hello and turned his attention to the computer. Out of my awkwardness, I didn’t even introduce myself or speak to him. Then, later, the boss came and introduced us to each other, telling me to love and not offend the new guy. It was as if everyone was pushing me on purpose! I have to love him, you see!
We kept quiet until the lunch break, I looked at him, but I still couldn’t see what my friend saw in him. At lunchtime I went up to her and said that she was intrigued in vain! And she told me: “What are you talking about, he’s so cool!” And indeed, gradually I began to notice that I was beginning to feel sympathy for the way he behaved, the way he spoke: everything was jokes, jokes. This is when we got to know each other better. And he will gallantly open the door for me if we manage to arrive at the same time. And he'll treat you to some candy. And he will eat half of my lunch without a twinge of conscience if he didn’t manage to bring anything, and I treat him. And he will say something that only relates to me, like: “Oh, who came to us!” - Well, who else will come if the office is designed for us? So glad, or what, am I? I wanted to think so.
I immediately told about my marital status. He didn’t talk about his own things, and I wasn’t interested. In general, he never took our relationship outside of work: he didn’t call, didn’t write, didn’t see him off, nothing like that. And I didn’t bring home problems to work. But he started flirting first. Sits, looks and smiles. If you smile back, you will definitely say something nice. If you laugh it off, he will also joke and start talking. And he always easily agreed to help with work. I no longer carried heavy folders and books, I didn’t wait for the engineer’s help when dealing with problems with office equipment, I no longer grabbed my head when dealing with any snags - he sorted everything out himself. And somehow he always found himself nearby, striving for communication, breaking boundaries.
And then it happened that we had to stay late at work. Actually, I had to. There was a power failure and we didn’t have time to finish what everyone was supposed to finish today. I called my husband and warned that I would be late so that he could meet the child (my daughter was starting first grade then) and take him to grandma. In autumn it gets dark early, but we only have a table lamp, the situation is so promising. After all, we turned off the overhead lights just in case, cut off the power to everything when the outage occurred, and when the electricity was restored, we rushed to work, and it just got dark. They finished it almost simultaneously and said in unison “wow!” And he reached out and said that it turned out that it was his birthday, and he even had something to celebrate, but in the end everyone forgot. That's how it all happened. And I finally came home in the morning. The husband and child spent the night with their grandmother, had breakfast there and went to the park on the occasion of the day off. My husband didn’t seem to care, he didn’t even call.
And I was terribly tormented by my conscience for my behavior, and for my attitude towards my husband, and because of my daughter. After all, I don’t need this colleague! And this relationship cannot be called love. Simple flirting, true office romance. I myself cannot explain how this happened. There was a lack of romance, something forbidden and interesting. I tried to convince myself that nothing terrible had happened, that this happens at every step. Somehow I managed to cope with myself, on Sunday the three of us even spent time with my husband and daughter, which rarely happens, we walked on the lake embankment, and ate ice cream at a cafe. And on Monday they suggested that I drop everything and leave... “What is keeping you here? Come with me to Pskov!” This is where the real mental and moral suffering began. His roots are from Pskov, and he invites me to leave at least with my daughter. Divorce, quit and leave. With a semi-familiar person. I only know him from work!
And the saddest thing is that I wanted it. I even started planning. I was tossed around like a ship in a storm, I either wanted to be with this person, then I began to doubt him, my feelings, what I wanted and whether I needed it, I rushed to my husband, tried to treat him better , I was afraid for my daughter, and I told my colleague that, most likely, I would not get a divorce and that the relationship should generally end. As a result, I fell into depression, I didn’t want anything at all. My colleague was angry with me, I was angry with myself, my colleague and my husband, my husband didn’t want to see anything. I lost interest and strength in work. My colleagues didn’t whisper behind my back, and I’m grateful for that. I shared it with a friend, she would have figured us out anyway, but the gossip didn’t go beyond her, apparently.
So I suffered for about a month. My colleague left the last word to me: “I suggested - think about it.” Our relationship is frozen. I couldn’t do anything at work, my head wasn’t thinking well and I was busy with the wrong things all the time. And it all ended when I was deprived of my bonus for such work. This somehow sobered me up, or something. And I made a choice in favor of family. Who is this colleague to change his whole life because of him? He already created problems for me... I didn’t swear my love to him until the grave, and he didn’t swear to me either. I'm just exhausted. And he left for Pskov, as he had planned. And it’s good, because I’m so tired of being afraid that everything will be revealed, that I’ll have to leave work, that my husband will find out, that I myself will go crazy from worry! Now I’m sitting and waiting to see who else they’ll appoint as my co-cabinet mate. But no more novels!”
A man's view of office romances. Alexander about his novels at work
“Who said that men are cynical in this matter? Cynicism is just characteristic of the female character! After all, in the Orthodox religion, women are considered unclean creatures. They themselves don’t know what they want, there are some intrigues, intricate tangles... But a man is simpler, more naive. If he finds someone else, he will say in plain text: “Sorry, goodbye.”
Personally, I have no illusions about my own age. But the hands are still reaching out! Hands reflexively reach out to the young! The spinal cord sends an impulse, and you just want to grab it! What, should I take pills? Everyone lives as they see fit, and I believe that I will live as I need, I don’t make excuses and I’m not going to teach anyone. When you get older, you want to flirt. The desire to be liked results in compliments, maintaining one’s appearance, and some kind of verbal games: understatement, ambiguity.
Romances between colleagues are not good and they are not bad. Be it between colleagues, or just strangers. It's all about whether romance occurs or not, no matter where. If the romance turns into something valuable, that's good. But just something somewhere in the corner is generally great. What's wrong with this? After all, it is always better to make a mistake before committing to a serious relationship.
Again, we spend so much time at work! So much of the time that I call my wife after my colleague. But this doesn’t mean anything at all, it’s already a reflex. And my wife understands this perfectly, she realizes that we have been sitting for many hours in the same office for many years. And we obviously have some kind of romance with her. A work romance, not a love affair. You can do without coitus. Yes, I see her more than my own wife! I've already forgotten what my wife looks like. When a colleague gets his hair cut, I can see it right away. But when the wife doesn’t. Because I haven’t been able to persuade her to do this for five years. I don't like long hair. And my wife loves me. So office romance is inevitable. And its form can be completely different, as in any relationship between people.
Personally, office romances do not interfere with my work. Although it happens that this is a terrible thing - to play love at work. When two colleagues set their eyes on one colleague, this means jealousy and some kind of intimate conflicts... And flirting - every day! And as long as it stands normally, there is hope that everything is proceeding normally, I’m not talking about this beam, but about this beam. Do you see? It's simple.
The main thing is to realize the following thought, which will help you understand that there is no smell of cynicism here. A person is realized in everything: children, profession, hobbies. This is a normal, natural human state. It is impossible to be fulfilled in a family and at the same time not to be fulfilled in relationships with women in other places. And where? Not on the street! Although, moving away from the topic, why not, in the end.
Just imagine, spring, puddles. Nothing is removed. And a woman walks in front of me. I reached a puddle and couldn’t get around it either to the left or to the right. I advise her, they say, you can slip over there, and she tells me: “I’m afraid, my boots are Italian!” I hopped into my arms and carried her. My son was with me, so my son constantly reminds me of this good deed: “Do you remember how you carried the woman?” The son thought that it was necessary to do this and that it was good. But you won’t carry everyone!
So we realize ourselves in work and at work. Somewhere you need to realize yourself as healthy, somewhere smart, somewhere professional, somewhere sexy. Women have different impressions. And it is impossible for a man not to be fulfilled, not to express himself sexually with a colleague of the opposite sex. With a wife - one thing, with a mistress - another. With a woman who is neither a wife nor a mistress - the third is also not bad. I have an implementation. This is good.
Men cross the line in films. But this rarely happens in life, in any particular environment. Someone is on duty at night with the opposite sex - that's how much talk there is! They're sleeping, they're sleeping! And this may or may not be the case. It is important that they spend time and prove themselves in this regard too. There is nothing surprising, nothing strange, nothing reprehensible. And it’s not at all necessary that if you smiled at a colleague, then with your next move you should get her in the corner. Maybe in Europe this is prohibited. So in the USA, they say you can’t open a woman’s door or give her a coat - I haven’t been there, I don’t know. I live here, and for this nation all these courtships, even with subtext, even without intentions, are the norm.
One of my friends went to work in Australia, and after six months he was forced to leave there. He is married, but traveled alone, without his wife. A week later, after sideways glances, he was warned that he should not move a woman’s chair, otherwise there would be trouble. The police will detain you. All courtship is prohibited - it is illegal. Not only professionally – not even on the beach. And he broke the contract and left: “I can’t live like this, I’m alone. Men look askance, women warn about the police.” This is what culture determines. How to realize it then? Where should I put everything?
It is a national feature for us to look after a woman. So, the Boxing Federation made a decision: in Russia you can’t look at a woman in a bikini - they say, it’s impossible to box after that. What nonsense! And next time they will demand a burqa! This is not what Russia is for. A woman must have heels, she must have cleavage, otherwise she is not a woman. With her, a man should feel the urge to realize himself. He must look after her. And flirting is completely normal. Just like an office romance.”
This is where expressions like “sucked and abandoned” come from. Although the sailors have absolutely nothing to do with it, the following story is about them.
Like in the movies. A short but happy story of romance at work from Olga
“In medicine there are whole dynasties of medical families. And not only in medicine, probably. A family of scientists, for example. Or athletes there, teachers - in my opinion, this happens and is not uncommon. People look for a person based on themselves. Simply with close views or meet where they are most often. We met at the faculty, then got married. Or they were colleagues. Or fate brought it together at the conference. She also brought me together, although not with a colleague, but the relationship at work was very close, laughter and laughter.
I had just finished medical school and got a job as a nurse in a hospital. One day, during my day off, my colleagues called me and said: “Come on, come to work, there are such guys lying around!”
Oh, that didn't make me happy. The shifts are already hard, long, exhausting, and then there’s fun planned with daring young people, a whole company, as I understand it. They won't let you work in peace. Sailors often get inflammation of the tonsils, this is professional. And now they were supposed to bring us a new batch. But this one didn’t even want to go to bed, he said: “A friend is trying to persuade me, like, what are you talking about, there’s such a sister there, young, beautiful, he would have hit me himself, but not before.”
He refused and refused, but in the end it thundered anyway. Of course, I liked him - a young, handsome sailor, a good guy. I only gave him one injection! And he looked after me, waited for my shift, like I don’t know what, he helped fill out magazines on shift, even though this is impossible, he takes a pen and writes, writes. During your shift, you get tired of standing, sitting, and holding a pen. So he worked for me at night. Invaluable help! He lay down, recovered and went to sea. Before that I found out my address. In the hospital. He didn't tell me anything.
And here I was sitting at home, suddenly the doorbell rang: he showed up. The bouquet is huge, bigger than himself, and he got it wherever he could. I probably cut off all the flower beds in the area. We walked for two weeks, movies, parks, and said: “When I return from the flight, we’ll get married!” He sent me jeans and handbags from Italy. I sat and waited. I think she’s naive, she’ll go far away and forget, there are a million people like me in every city. So, I spent my time. But no. He returned with suitcases. He left his homeland, he left everything. Come straight to me. We got married and have been together for 35 years. This is such strong love.”
Maria Sidorova
I heard this story from my work colleagues when I worked as a secretary at a research institute. For the most part, the people who worked there were very serious, having at least one higher education. But still, science is science, and everything human is far from alien to these people. Pundits also have a personal life.
I have always had great respect for Ivan Valerievich, deputy director. Not only was he knowledgeable about the job, but he also treated his employees well. He was always in a good mood, knew all his employees not only by sight, but also by name and patronymic. Good man. Maybe because he worked with his wife Valentina Andreevna and was so happy. Everything in this couple was good, many were jealous. They suited each other perfectly.
And one day, during my lunch break, when I, as usual, did not go for a walk in the park, as I always did to clear my head, as usual every day, but postponed this event because of the cold autumn rain, they told me a story about this couple , so to speak, all the ins and outs.
“Ivan Valerievich and Valentina Andreevna met when Valentina Andreevna was already an accomplished thirty-five-year-old woman. She held the position of deputy director.
She had a bad experience behind her in her personal life. Valentina Andreevna was her parents' unloved daughter, causing them so much trouble. Although she threw herself entirely into her work, she still remained a cheerful woman who took special care of herself and fashion.
And Ivan Valerievich was simply Vanya then, twenty-five years old, who had recently graduated from the local polytechnic and entered our service. The common work brought them closer together. Valentina Andreevna’s heart was melted by a young specialist. She took him under her wing.
Valentina Andreevna changed in appearance, a sparkle appeared in her eyes. Many began to say that the couple was dating. Many were sincerely happy for them, but not all.
Lyudochka, who was working as a secretary in your place at that time, a broken woman, began to interrupt Ivan for herself. Ivan will come to the director for a reception, sits and waits, and Lyudka is pretty, she’ll put on a short skirt or dress just the way she wants and seduces Vanya, then drags her long legs onto the table, and then once pinned him against the wall with her breasts.
Intelligent and well-mannered Valentina Andreevna endured everything in silence, only laughing it off when she learned about Lyudmila’s next seductions. Despite everything, Ivan and Valentina got married and have been living together for about fifteen years. Valentina took care of him all her life, invested her strength in him, and made her dreams come true in him. She persuaded me to enroll in graduate school and defend myself. Well, then, so that the efforts of the young hubby would not be in vain, I gave him the position of deputy director.
And Lyudka was asked to retrain as an accountant so that she could always be at work and not dodge other people’s men. A modest graduate of a local technical school was quickly replaced in her place.”
Does an office romance have a right to exist? For decades, people have been discussing the topic of office romance at work.
The topic is still relevant in our time, because employees spend most of their time at work, begin to show sympathy for colleagues, strong feelings often arise that encourage them to start a family, and some may use a manager or subordinate for their own selfish purposes.
A lot can be said about the pros and cons of such relationships; it all depends on the specific situation, the conditions at work and the team. Let's analyze such relationships using examples from real life stories.
Olya's office romance:
My name is Olya. After graduating from the university's Faculty of Economics, I started looking for a job. I sent out resumes to various financial institutions and went to interviews. By that time, I had separated from my boyfriend and spent evenings with friends in various clubs on weekends.
There I met Maxim, 5 years older than me, we developed a liking, and began an office romance. One day I got a call from the HR department of a commercial bank and was invited to an interview, after which I was offered to work as an economist in one of the branches.
Arriving at my workplace on the first day, I was shocked - the head of that department was Maxim, and I was his subordinate. He turned out to be different from how I knew him, he treated employees and clients with disdain, forced other girls to make him coffee and wash his cups after it.
I found out that he had previously had an office romance with another employee. I couldn’t meet with him anymore and work the same way...
Fortunately, a similar vacancy appeared in another department to which I was transferred. The manager there was a woman, the team was friendly, and I was able to work in a calm atmosphere.
The situation that developed with Olya was such that the affair became an official affair due to the fact that the circumstances were so, it did not last long, but had negative consequences.
Very often, men who initiate affairs with colleagues actually hide their real character and nature, and often also their marital status. Many managers, taking advantage of their high official position, violate all the rules of corporate ethics and subordination.
After the end of a romantic relationship, it becomes unbearable for two people to work in the same team. In many structures, it is prohibited for spouses to work if there is a certain subordination of one position to another or a connection.
In such cases, there is a possibility of dishonest abuse of one's duties, pursuit of family goals, causing conflict situations that affect work efficiency.
The story of Alina's office romance
When I started a new job, I had been dating a guy for 5 years. We were comfortable together, but he did not propose marriage. The structure of the organization is rather large - about 100 people and is divided into departments.
At a corporate party on the occasion of the New Year, I met the head of the IT department, Oleg. He was a bachelor and turned out to be an interesting person. After always quickly fixing problems with my computer, when other employees often waited half a day, our IT department was actually very busy with work.
Once he invited me for coffee and lunch, and a few days later for dinner. It got to the point where I broke up with my boyfriend, who wasn't proactive in our relationship, and I didn't see a future with him.
A year later I married Oleg, my colleagues were happy for us. We practically don’t see each other all day, we sit in different offices, and at the same time we have a lot in common, we go to lunch together, so we don’t have time to miss each other too much.
This situation and the office romance that has grown into love is positive in that there is no subordination between manager and subordinate, otherwise the reaction of senior management or colleagues could have been different.
Often couples who have been dating for several years break up due to the fact that they become uninterested, there is no variety and romance. And spending most of the time at work leads to an interest in employees of the opposite sex, who may be more decisive and more proactive in terms of relationships.
For women, relationships such as the example of Alina and Oleg have the advantage that jealousy and distrust of each other decreases, and there is an opportunity to see their loved one at any time.
It is important to maintain standards of behavior and not arrange erotic scenes or hot kisses in the corners or in the elevator, this will immediately cause unpleasant impressions and condemnation from other workers. The main thing to remember: at work - think about the work and the result, outside of it - give vent to feelings and emotions .
Office romances of married employees cause condemnation from colleagues. After such situations, most often the female half of humanity becomes ashamed, unpleasant and unbearable to work.
Men rarely leave their families, and women at work can become just a temporary hobby, so you should make your choice with caution.
Office romance - stories from life
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