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He made a lousy secretary.
She doesn’t know what she had expected. That he would actually do his fair share of the work for a change? She really should have known better. People like Olaf don’t change, so while the parts of his personality that made him attractive to her back in the day have remained intact, the parts that made her want to strangle him in his sleep are also as prominent as ever.
His part of the scheme finished for now, he has apparently decided that the best use of his time is to bitch. About anything and everything. How long this is taking. How annoying the little Baudelaire brats are. Lemony Snicket apparently still being alive and on the loose. The goddamn weather of all things.
It was annoying enough to be interrupted while she was working on hypnotizing Charles, but now that they’re alone there is nothing to distract her from the incessant noise. In a half-hearted attempt to escape, she makes her way back to her own office, but of course Olaf just follows. What’s worse, before Georgina has a chance to sit down, Olaf has plopped himself into her chair. And then he does the unthinkable: he toes of his red heels, leans back, and puts his feet up on her desk.
For a moment Georgina just stares, quite incapable of processing this level of audacity. It was one thing when he did it out in the reception area, because while it was still uncivilized and disgusting, at least it was his desk, as much as a desk you’ve been sitting at for a few days can be ‘your desk’. But this is her desk. Hers. The anger finally starts sneaking in, gradually solidifying in her gut as her eyes begin to narrow, leaving her to glare at Olaf without any results whatsoever, because he isn’t even looking at her. She distantly registers that her grip on her cane is so tight that it is starting to hurt her fingers.
And then it suddenly hits her; she knows what is going on here.
There are, and has always been, two possible explanations for Olaf bitching and complaining and being a general nuisance: 1) he’s simply bitching and complaining and being a general nuisance because he is an ill-tempered, childish, and abrasive asshole, or 2) he is trying to provoke you – with very specific goals in mind.
She can’t believe the thought didn’t occur to her earlier. Surely they haven’t been apart for so long that she would miss all the signs like this? She would be quietly embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that Olaf is still ranting, and his feet are still on her desk, and the resentment bubbling inside her is what she needs to hold on to right now, at least for a little longer.
She approaches him slowly, waiting for him to notice that she is moving. But his head has dropped back in a show of exasperation as he continues lamenting his current situation, so he doesn’t. That’s not necessarily a bad thing in this situation, Georgina muses. It means she has the element of surprise on her side, and that’s always nice. And while she hasn’t decided exactly what she’s going to do to him later, she definitely knows what she’s going to do first.
It’s been a long time since she hit anyone, so she might be overestimating how much strength she needs to put into it, but it certainly works. With no warning she raises her cane and then brings it down hard and fast, delivering a sharp blow to the side of Olaf’s lower leg. The result is just as she had hoped: his feet are knocked clean off the desk, and as they fall to the floor he loses his balance, causing the chair to roll backwards, and if it weren’t for the fact that he manages to grab a hold of the armrests he would have slipped right off the seat. It’s a delightful thing to watch, a grown man in a tight dress scrambling to avoid falling on his ass. Undignified to say the least. The loud cry of pain that accompanies the display is just a bonus.
And if there had been any doubts before as to Olaf’s true intentions they are dispelled now, because when he has finally stabilized himself enough that he can turn his attention to her, one look at her face is enough for him to hold back on whatever verbal attack he was preparing, the sounds dying in his throat as he instead clenches his jaw shut and simply glowers at her. Good, we’re in business then. And while Georgina likes to think that she is a rational person, someone who takes the time to think things through and rarely acts impulsively if she can help it, sometimes you just have to go with your instincts, and her instincts are very clear on what needs to happen now.
“Kneel.”
Olaf stays still just long enough for Georgina to wonder if she needs to repeat herself, or maybe hit him again, but then he shifts his weight and slowly allows himself to slide off the chair, surprisingly controlled in his movements now, compared to a few seconds ago. He folds his legs under him and lands on his knees with barely a sound, then sits back on his heels and rests his hands in his lap. It must be an instinctive reaction, muscle memory kicking in, because seeing the way he is glaring at her, the ugliness of the snarl on his face, this definitely isn’t genuine obedience. Oh well, it’s only a matter of time. They’ll get there soon enough.
He ended up in a good spot, just far enough from the desk that Georgina will be able to reach him if she were to perch herself on the edge of it. But first things first - she can’t afford to get complacent and comfortable just yet, not when Olaf is still just as likely to fight back as he is to continue doing what he is told. She needs to employ some additional techniques in this case, and luckily she still remembers quite a few.
The first is so simple, she sometimes wonders how it can take so little to achieve so much. It must be Olaf’s inherent vanity, his constant craving for attention, and that certainly hasn’t changed either. She maintains constant eye-contact as she walks the few steps she needs to reach him, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk as he is forced to crane his neck back to avoid being the one to look away. Georgina pauses, then reaches down to trail her fingers down Olaf’s right temple, just along the edge of his wig, touching the soft fake hair more than his actual skin. With a light sigh she finally breaks his gaze as she steps to the side, still caressing the fine, golden strands as she starts to walk around him. “You look very pretty in this,” she says. “Have I mentioned that before?”
The question being as direct as it is, and there having been no prior instructions to stay silent, Olaf answers, decidedly bitter : “No.”
Georgina almost laughs. Of course that will have annoyed him to no end. Being constantly ogled by Sir is one thing, but the lack of attention from Georgina must have been grating on him. Sure enough, as Georgina continues circling him, occasionally stroking the bare skin of his shoulders, tracing the edge of the frankly unprofessionally low-cut dress, he starts straightening his back, pushing out his chest (oh how nice that looks with those fake breasts of his), practically preening under the attention he is finally getting despite the fact that no words are being spoken, and the soft clicks of Georgina’s cane on the hardwood floor is the only sound in the room. He looks considerably less likely to bite her or something ridiculous like that when she eventually stops in front of him, grabbing his chin and making him tilt his head back so she can admire his face. “Beautiful,” Georgina mutters, taking in the carefully applied make-up, how well it accentuates Olaf’s more feminine features. He has gotten so much better at this particular disguise than the last time she saw him, and although she hasn’t actually told him so, it’s been difficult for her to look away whenever he struts around, doing those ridiculous pouts he does to draw your attention to his lips. It’s a smart strategy; with lipstick on they are distracting to say the least. “Absolutely gorgeous,” Georgina says, letting her thumb drag along Olaf’s lower lip, smudging the lipstick just a little, smiling when he shudders ever so slightly and closes his eyes. The perfect outer line of the lipstick being ruined does nothing to diminish the attractiveness of the look, which gives Georgina an idea.
Still one more thing to do though, just for added certainty. She lets go of Olaf’s chin and leaves him to go rummage through the drawers of her desk. It’s probably an unconventional place to store things like this, but when restraining people is part of your job, you need to be prepared for the worst.
She finds what she is looking for in the bottom drawer. A length of fine rope, just a few feet long, enough to allow for some basic knots, but not so long as to be hard to handle. Olaf stares at it with glinting eyes as she walks back to him, propping her cane against her desk to have both hands free. There’s just a trace of hesitation on his face, so Georgina gives him a reassuring smile. “It’s made for the purpose, dear, don’t worry, we wouldn’t want to leave burn marks your pretty skin.” To prove the point, she lets the end of the rope drag over his shoulder as she passes, letting him feel it. “Soft as silk, isn’t it?”
Olaf’s response is something between a huff and a grunt, which in his case signals reluctant agreement. He puts his hands behinds his back without even being told to do so. Yes, old habits definitely die hard.
Georgina keeps it simple, just a few loops to tie his wrists together, finishing with a struggler’s knot, which she knows won’t give no matter how hard he strains, but won’t pinch or compress his wrists either when he does. She finally steps back and perches herself on the edge of her desk, taking in the result. “Very nice,” she says with no small amount of satisfaction. “Get over here.”
On his knees and with his arms tied behind his back, it’s difficult for Olaf to move smoothly, but he manages without looking too ungainly, although he clearly isn’t happy about it. It’s only a short distance though, then he can stop and settle down again just in front of Georgina’s feet. He sits there, looking up at her expectantly – not in the eager way obviously, more in the ‘are you going to get on with it then?’ way. She really ought to draw it out just to teach him some manners, but she gets the feeling that might be pushing her luck. Nevertheless, just to make a point, she shifts back enough to be able to lift one leg and hook it over his shoulder without risk of tumbling off the desk. Now it’s simply a question of bending her leg and digging her heel into his lower back, and he is forced to lean forward, the relative pride he was preserving by being able to sit with a straight back taken from him. He bares his teeth in a snarl, pushing back against her leg, not hard enough to get away, just enough to signal his displeasure. A token show of resistance and nothing more. Adorable.
Georgina reaches for her cane again, enjoying how Olaf’s eyes dart to her hand and then remain fixed on it as she carefully pulls the cane over. She strokes her fingers over the silver handle, just a light caress, like she is considering what to do. She patiently waits until Olaf realizes where this is going as well, the simultaneously outraged and excited look on his face quite spectacular when he eventually does. Georgina smiles, tilts the cane in his direction until the handle comes to rest lightly on Olaf’s lower lip. “Open your mouth.”
He does so without hesitation, relaxing his jaw and arching his head back just enough that the angle is perfect for Georgina to easily push the handle into his mouth. She notes with some satisfaction that it’s the perfect size, wide enough that his jaw will start aching soon enough, but not so wide that it will actually hurt him. She doesn’t want to actually hurt him. Just... a little bit.
This time when Georgina smiles, it’s as much a threatening baring of teeth as it is a grin. “Suck.”
Olaf hollows his cheeks, sucking hard enough that Georgina can feel the pull of it, and she loosens her grip on the cane to let it slip forward. The contrast between the red of Olaf’s lipstick and the silver shine of the cane-handle is nothing short of exquisite, and the way his lips stretch around the widest part when she tightens her grip again and slowly draws the cane out of his mouth is... the word ‘mouthwatering’ springs to mind, probably helped by the fact that Olaf doesn’t let her pull the handle all the way out of his mouth – he leans forward to suck it back in, the action accompanied by delectably wet, slurping sound. His fake breasts press against Georgina’s knee when he gets this close, a surprisingly pleasant feeling. Though not as pleasant as the sight of Olaf as he starts bobbing his head back and forth, teasingly slow. If this was actually a cock, its owner would be getting frustrated. So in the interest of realism, Georgina pushes the handle further into Olaf’s mouth, only stopping when she can feel it hit the back of his throat, then quickly draws it back, only to push it back in just as far. To her delight, Olaf doesn’t even choke.
But he does get the message and speeds up. Georgina can’t help smiling as she angles the cane to alternately make it easier for him or force him to crane his neck back to keep the handle in his mouth. It has become properly slick with his saliva by now, and when Georgina notices a trail of it rolling down Olaf’s chin she can’t help but want more of that. So without warning she pushes the handle deep into his throat and pulls him forward with her leg so he can’t move backwards. She only has to hold it there for a second before Olaf chokes on it, tears springing to his eyes as he tries half-heartedly to move away. He could if he really wanted to. Georgina pulls the cane back after a second, all the way back until the handle is no longer in Olaf’s mouth, and he is free to cough and gag. She pets his wig with her free hand, waiting for him to get control over his breathing again. When he finally does, she nudges his chin with the cane, a silent question; ‘again?’
Olaf glares at her, as defiant as ever as he takes the handle back into his mouth and starts sucking again with renewed vigor. Georgina chuckles, and it only grows louder with Olaf stubbornly tried to swallow more of the handle and gags on it again. This time she doesn’t pull it back, this was entirely his own fault. She does allow him to straighten up though, the handle slipping from his mouth as he does. He coughs once, his breathing ragged. His lipstick is smeared all over his chin, and the tears that have started running down his face are leaving clear trails in his foundation. He looks absolutely gorgeous.
“Please.”
Georgina tilts her head. “Please what?” she asks.
Olaf grinds his teeth, so whatever it is he wants he hates having to put it into words. Lucky for him then, Georgina’s gaze happens to slip down his body, and yes, that might be it. Even though he is wearing nylons and shapewear, the outline of his cock is clearly visible where it strains against the shiny fabric of his (her) dress. That can’t be comfortable.
Georgina ponders her options, then smirks when she comes up with a suitably evil solution. She slides her leg, the one she is resting on, forward an inch, just enough to make it clear what she is offering.
“You can’t be-...” Olaf hisses indignantly, only cutting himself off when Georgina narrows her eyes at him. He returns her glare, although the effect is really diminished by the state of his face. They remain at this stand-still for several seconds, but when Georgina doesn’t move an inch, Olaf seems to realize that this is all he is going to get right now. He shuffles forward the few inches it takes before he can press his hips against Georgina’s shin. The relief of some sort of friction against his cock must be overwriting the humiliation of being reduced to humping Georgina’s leg to get himself off, because he lets out a relieved sigh and immediately starts rocking up against her. She tries her hardest not to laugh. There’s only so much a man should be forced to endure. She manages to keep it at a low snigger, which is luckily drowned out by Olaf’s panting.
She allows him a few more seconds before she presses the handle of her cane meaningfully against his chin again. Olaf groans deeply, but parts his lips nonetheless, allowing Georgina to push the handle back into his mouth, and then going back to sucking it with just as much zeal as before. He finds a rhythm, rubbing against Georgina’s leg in time with the bobs of his head, and if that isn’t a nice display of multitasking, Georgina can’t imagine what would be. She leans back and watches, enjoys the slick, slurping sounds the handle makes as it slides back and forth, occasionally breaking Olaf’s pace by pushing the cane too far into his throat until he chokes on it again, letting him breathe a little, and then doing it once more as soon as he has gotten his gag-reflex back under control.
For all his shows of frustration, Olaf is definitely getting off on this, and faster that Georgina had imagined he would too. As the thrusts of his hips become faster and choppier, the moans he manages to make around the cane-handle in his mouth growing louder, Georgina takes pity on him and stops her quiet displays of dominance, simply holding the cane still and letting Olaf set the pace. He stubbornly keeps sucking even as his body tenses up, so it ends up being Georgina’s decision to pull the handle out of his mouth, allowing him space to breathe as he rocks against her leg a dozen more times, then stiffens and comes with a low cry. There goes that dress, Georgina thinks to herself, as Olaf’s movements slowly come to a stop. He slumps forwards, his forehead coming to rest against Georgina’s knee as he continues gasping for breath a while longer. Once he has gotten it over control, Georgina lets her leg drop from his shoulder, allowing him to sit up straight again, which he does. There’s no longer that look of defiance on his face now, just satisfaction. Well, with that wet spot spreading on the front of the dress he better be satisfied. Realization dawns on her and she looks down, but her trousers are too dark to her to make out whether they’ve fallen victim to the messy result of the male orgasm as well. If they have, she’s going to make Olaf wash them.
Speaking of, the man himself is rolling his shoulders, obviously signaling that he would like to be untied now. Well, there’s no reason to sour the mood again, Georgina decides, propping her cane up against the desk and then standing, stretching her legs before making her way around Olaf’s surprisingly still form and deftly untying the knot. When Olaf immediately starts to move his arms, she grabs a hold of his wrists. “Careful now, remember?”
He obviously does, relaxing and letting Georgina slide her hands up both his arms, carefully massaging the stiff muscles as she goes along, finishing with his shoulder, and only then does she tell him, “It’s okay now.”
Olaf still lets out a sound of discomfort when he unfurls his arms, but it would have been worse if she hadn’t stopped him from just jerking them forward. Georgina sighs, putting her hands on his shoulders and leaning on him for a bit, suddenly realizing that she is quite tired as well. “You did good,” she says before straightening and going to fetch her chair, wheeling it back to its proper place by the desk and sitting down, finally feeling perfectly relaxed and content for the first time in days.
It takes a few moments for her to notice that Olaf isn’t getting to his feet, in fact he isn’t moving at all. When she looks him in the eye he appears... uncertain. Then he carefully shuffles forward, still on his knees, until Georgina is forced to spread her legs to accommodate him. He pauses, then reaches for her belt. She slaps his hands away, gently. “Later,” she says. “We have work to do.”
Olaf’s disappointment is obvious, but he accepts her decision nevertheless. He lifts his hands to grab the armrests of her chair instead, using them as leverage as he gets to his feet, wobbly from spending so long kneeling on the floor. He smooths down his dress, noticing the wet spot on the front for the first time. “Ugh. I liked this one,” he whines.
“No one forced you to come while wearing it,” Georgina points out, smirking. “Go change. And you might want to fix your make-up too while you're at it.”
His swearing is very colorful as he stalks off to do as she suggested. Georgina sighs with satisfaction, leaning back in her chair. At least she’ll get half an hour of peace and quiet before he comes back and starts up with the complaining again.
She’ll have thought of another way to shut him up by then.