Office Politics - soleil (c)
Chris eyed his computer screen mutinously. Who the hell did that prick think he
was? His new boss had only been in the job a few months, but he'd already warned
Chris that his professional performance was less than acceptable. What the fuck
was his problem? Chris and his team met their sales targets - but it wasn't
enough for Mr Fucking Bigshot. Oh, no. Not nearly enough. According to Ricardo
Diablo, his new boss, Chris' team was under-performing in a big way. All the
smooth talk in the world, something Chris was very good at, hadn't been able to
convince Diablo otherwise.
Now the bastard had sent him a terse email summoning him to the company's head
office in New York for an official performance appraisal. Chris knew what that
meant. The industry grapevine had buzzed for days when Diablo was appointed
ComCorp's new Vice President, Sales and Marketing, mostly because Diablo was
renowned for ruthlessly reorganizing and restructuring under-achieving sales
forces. Chris knew his ass was on the line. "Fucking asshole," he muttered,
craning his neck to see where his personal assistant was. "Rachel," he called.
"Can you come in here a moment?"
Rachel was a temp, just filling in while Chris' regular PA was on leave. Soon
after Diablo started, he'd ordered all of his employees with more than 2 weeks
outstanding vacation time to take it, or lose it. So Philippa had swanned off to
the Bahamas with Cathy from Accounts, and Chris hadn't had sex for a whole week.
Another way Mr Bigshot is screwing up my life, sulked Chris, who'd been fucking
Philippa for the past three months.
Rachel sashayed into Chris' office, all blonde hair, big eyes and plunging
neckline. Chris eyed her with interest as she sat down, the nylon of her
stockings hissing with whispered promises as she crossed her legs. Chris knew
she was wearing stockings because he could see the lacy stocking tops as her
skirt rode up. Chris didn't know women still wore stockings. Not the ones he
knew, anyway. But Rachel did. As far as he could tell, and he kept a very close
eye on such things, she'd worn them every day so far. Chris wondered what else
she was wearing under the silky white blouse that barely contained her
voluptuous breasts, and the short, dark, pinstriped skirt that clung to her
rounded hips and ass like a jealous lover.
"I like your tie, Chris," Rachel said prettily as she smoothed her skirt over
her thighs. Chris fancied he could see a hint of the outline of her garter belt
against the material of her skirt. "It goes really nicely with your eyes, it
brings out the color in them." She smiled sunnily at her boss, then fluttered
her eyelashes. Chris preened, his irritation subsiding just a little. Women
loved him; it had always been like that. It seemed Rachel was no different.
Blessed with all-American good looks and a naturally athletic build, Chris'
appearance had gotten him most things in life, with very little extra effort
required.
"Clear my calendar for Wednesday and Thursday, then get me on a plane for New
York on Wednesday morning. I'll also need a hotel for Wednesday night."
"Sure," breathed Rachel, licking the tip of her pencil then scribbling down his
requirements. "Where do you normally stay?" She raised her large green eyes and
looked at him expectantly, her lips glistening enticingly in the morning sun.
"The Stanhope Park Hyatt on Fifth," he lied. Fuck it. If he were going to get a
pasting, he'd at least travel in style. Then, eyeing Rachel's breasts spilling
out of her blouse as she laboriously wrote down the hotel's name, he impulsively
added, "I'll need you to come along as well, to take minutes and such." Chris
knew very well there were no minutes to be taken, but he'd figure out something
for her to do. Like suck my cock, he thought, hiding a smile.
"Really?" Rachel gasped, her face a picture of excitement. "I'm going as well?"
"Sure," said Chris expansively, reclining in his chair in a superb display of
male cockiness. "And, while you're booking things, how about you reserve us a
table for lunch at that new restaurant across the road? We'll be working very
closely together over the next few days, I'd like to get to know you a little
better."
Rachel could barely conceal her delight. "I'll do it right now!" she bubbled,
jumping out of her chair with an adoring gaze at her boss.
Women, Chris thought, watching her wiggle out of the room. So easy to
manipulate. One lunch in a nice restaurant, courtesy of my company credit card
of course, and a little bit of charm, and she'll be in my bed before she knows
what's hit her. One more in the eye for Mr Bigshot Diablo. Smiling with
satisfaction, Chris turned back to his PC and set about fudging the previous
month's sales figures.
"The way I see it," said Chris earnestly between gulping wine and shoveling bits
of chicken into his mouth, "is that Diablo is threatened by me. I mean, I'm very
good at what I do, and obviously an up and coming executive like myself is
something for him to worry about."
Rachel nodded dreamily, her chin cupped in her hand as she hung on Chris' every
word. "You know, I think you're right," she agreed. "I've seen how hard you
work," she added. "Why, you're always on the phone! Or dashing off to meet
someone. I don't think he's being fair to you, really I don't. Would you like
some more wine?"
Chris nodded, basking in the sympathetic admiration of the voluptuous blonde
seated across from him. He'd caught the waiter eyeing Rachel's legs as they
walked in, and had smirked knowingly at him. He winked rakishly at Rachel as she
filled their glasses.
"Just between you and I," he confided, "I think Head Office knows it screwed up
when they appointed him. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if they were
considering replacing him with someone more dynamic, someone fresher," he
hinted, and sipped his wine. "In all honesty," he continued, "the guy's on his
way out. Let's face it," Chris laughed, "you'd probably throw your weight around
and blow a bit of hot air too if you thought it would save your ass, wouldn't
you?"
"Well, from what you tell me, I think Mr Diablo's being very mean to you. I'd
definitely be worried about my job if I were him and you were snapping at my
heels," Rachel soothed. Then a thought occurred to her. "Do you think they might
replace him with you?" she asked, admiration shining in her eyes. "Is that why
you have to go to New York?"
"We'll see," said Chris mysteriously. "Tell me about yourself," he said,
smoothly changing the subject with a feigned show of interest. He checked her
hand for a ring. "Are you married?" Not that he cared, but he thought he'd
better ask. Anyway, the answer might very well affect his strategy. "Do you have
a boyfriend?"
"No," Rachel giggled. "No boyfriend, no husband."
"A beautiful girl like you? I don't believe a word of it," answered Chris with a
straight face, but felt smug on the inside. This was going to be easier than he
thought. "I'm sure guys hit on you all the time."
"I like powerful men," confessed Rachel shyly, looking at Chris from beneath her
lashes. "You know, confident ones. Exciting ones. There aren't too many of those
around," she sighed, then looked at Chris with a meaningful glint in her eye.
"Yeah, we're a rare breed," smiled Chris casually, his foot brushing Rachel's
ankle under the table. He sipped his wine and looked deeply into Rachel's eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said deliberately, brushing her foot again. "Was that your
foot?"
Rachel blushed, the heat stealing up her neck and around her throat with a warm
glow. "It's okay, I don't mind," she said softly.
Chris felt his cock stir in his pants as he eyed his quarry greedily across the
table. He wondered if he could actually entice her into bed this very afternoon.
Calculating the effect of his charm with how much she'd had to drink, he decided
he had a better than even chance. Unfortunately, his pager beeped just then,
shattering the moment. "Damn!" he swore, checking the message. His face darkened
when he saw who it was from. Composing his features, he announced, "Duty calls!"
"We have to go?" said Rachel, disappointment clouding her face.
"No rest for us powerful men," he replied silkily. "Diablo wants that report
I've been working on by close of business. No doubt he wants to plagiarize it
for something he's writing." He caught the waiter's eye and motioned for the
check. The truth was, Chris hadn't even started on the report yet. He thought
he'd better get his ass in gear. After signing the slip with a flourish, Chris
leapt to his feet and raced around the table to pull out Rachel's chair.
"You're such a gentleman," she breathed, the tops of her stockings flashing
glimpses of pale lace as she rose.
"It's my pleasure, Ma'am," Chris said with a lazy smile, his hand resting gently
on Rachel's arm as he guided her out of the restaurant.
Back in the office, the sounds of Chris' mad typing punctuated the office with a
staccato beat. Finally, Rachel she shut down her PC. "I'm going now, if that's
okay," she said, lingering hesitantly at the door to Chris' office.
Chris looked up, then waved her in. "Sit down," he invited, pointing at the
chairs opposite his desk.
"I don't want to disturb you," said Rachel, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
"I know you're busy..."
"I'm never too busy for my staff, especially ones as pretty as you," said Chris
smoothly. Rachel blushed. "Did you enjoy lunch today?" he asked.
"Very much," Rachel admitted, her eyes lowered.
Chris noticed one of the top buttons on her blouse had come undone, exposing
generous expanses of creamy, swelling breasts encased in delicate white satin.
Visions of Rachel naked and writhing beneath him jumped into his mind. "So did
I." He made show of checking his watch. "I don't normally finish up early, but
what the hell. How about we grab a drink?"
Rachel's face fell. "Oh, Chris, I'd love to. But I'm doing a massage course at
the moment, and it's backs tonight. I can't miss backs, I'll never pass the
course if I do."
Chris' ears pricked up. "Massage course?"
"Yes, relaxation massage. I signed up when I moved here a few weeks ago. I
thought it would help me make friends. Anyhow, tonight's the night we learn how
to do backs. I really do have to go, or I'll never pass the course," she
finished, a note of despondency coloring her words.
Chris clenched his teeth with frustration, but hid it well. "No problem," he
said. "Perhaps we'll have that drink in New York."
"I'd like that," Rachel agreed happily. "Will we go to the airport straight from
the office tomorrow?"
"Good idea," said Chris absently, his attention waning now he knew bedding
Rachel this evening wasn't on the agenda. He wondered briefly if he might call
Sascha. Surely she'd forgiven him by now for that unfortunate incident at Rob's
party. Unfortunate, in that she'd caught him kissing her best friend. How long
do women hold grudges for anyway?
"Well, bye then," offered Rachel, standing to go.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," replied Chris, already searching his briefcase for his
little black book. Rachel's cell phone rang just as she was about to leave the
office. She fumbled in her purse for it, and Chris frowned with irritation. He
hoped she wouldn't hang around too long; he wanted to ring Sascha but he didn't
want Rachel to overhear. That would never do.
"Oh no!" Rachel said into the phone. "Are you okay?" Her face was a small
picture of shock. "Can I do anything?" She listened intently to the person on
the other end of the line. "Are you sure?" More silence. "No," she said firmly,
"Don't you worry about that. I'll call you tomorrow, you just get better. I'll
find someone else," she finished bravely. Sighing, she canceled the call and
stuffed her phone back in her purse, her mouth drooping sadly.
"What's up?" Chris asked curiously.
"It's my massage partner," wailed Rachel. "She's wrenched her neck, she can't
make it tonight. I have no one to use as my partner! I don't know anyone else,
just the other girls from the course, and they all have partners." Her shoulders
were hunched in misery.
"That's too bad," said Chris. Then, with a flash of dull cunning, he realised
that perhaps all was not lost after all. "Maybe I could help?"
Rachel looked at him hopefully. "You? You mean, you'd be willing to be my
partner?"
"Sure," said Chris generously. "That's what friends are for!" He smiled
wolfishly at the thought of Rachel's hands massaging his back. And if he helped
Rachel out of this sticky situation, there would be nothing like her sense of
gratitude to help my cause, he thought sneakily.
"You are the best, you really are!" exclaimed Rachel, her dimples dancing as
relief flooded her face. "Here," she said, scribbling on a sticky note, "this is
the address. Is 6.30pm okay for you? You just have to wear something loose and
comfortable, nothing fancy."
"I'll see you there," smiled Chris. "I'm looking forward to it."
Chris sighed with pleasure as Rachel's hands massaged his flesh. Her fingers
worked his shoulders gently yet firmly, teasing out the knots. "You must work so
hard," she murmured, her hair brushing his bare back as her lips danced around
his ear. "You're so tense, your muscles are so tight." Her thumbs moved
rhythmically over the base of his neck; Chris could feel her full breasts
pressing softly against him as she worked. He hoped he wouldn't be expected to
turn over any time soon - his hard, swollen cock would give him away in an
instant.
"Your back is so muscled," she continued, "so strong. Do you work out?" Rachel's
perfume floated around him, clouding him in a seductive cloak of femininity. His
cock leapt in his sweatpants. If he didn't fuck this woman soon, he knew he'd
explode.
"A little," he groaned as Rachel's nails scraped lightly down his spine.
"A lot," whispered Rachel, spanning his waist with her small hands, then running
them firmly up the sides of his torso. She leaned in close again, her warm
breath tickling his ear, driving him wild. "Is this too hard?" Her fingers
danced over his flesh with an almost sensual touch, pressing and kneading as she
worked.
"It's fine," he groaned again, gripping the sides of the massage table. "It
feels fantastic." Chris felt beads of sweat pop out on his forehead as her hands
dropped lower.
"Do you mind if I...?" Rachel said softly as her fingers slipped into the
waistband of his sweatpants.
The harsh sound of a whistle blowing suddenly cut in. "Okay, people, that's it!
Time's up, you've all done very well!"
Chris felt like crying as the instructor brought the class to a close. "What a
shame," sighed Rachel as she withdrew her hands. "I was just getting into it,
too. You can sit up now, everyone else is."
Chris looked around the room and saw that indeed, they were. However, most of
the other partners were women, and they didn't have a raging hard on to hide. He
smiled weakly. "It's okay, I'll just relax for a while. Thanks, Rachel, that
really was great." Chris was surprised to realize he was actually being sincere.
"No, thank you," said Rachel. "You really helped me out of a tight spot." She
smiled at the two women who suddenly appeared by the side of the massage table.
"Hi, Katie, hi Laura," she said. "Are you guys ready to go?" The women nodded,
then looked at Chris with interest as Rachel introduced them. "This is Chris, my
boss," she said, explaining the circumstances. Chris made polite noises, still
conscious of his state of arousal.
"You're going?" he asked desperately. This wasn't what he had in mind at all.
"Yeah, we take it in turns to carpool," said Rachel, swinging her sports bag
over her shoulder. She leaned down and kissed Chris lightly on the cheek,
affording him an excellent view of her breasts as she did so. "We're going to
New York tomorrow!" she said to the other women, giggling. "I can't wait!"
Neither can I, thought Chris silently. He smiled through gritted teeth as Rachel
left with the other women, her ass swaying enticingly in her figure hugging
lycra pants. Neither can I.
Rachel's mouth dropped open as she looked around the lobby of the hotel. "Chris,
this is amazing," she sighed. The hotel was so elegant, so sophisticated. Rachel
liked it very much.
"It's a home away from home," Chris said airily. He handed over his company
credit card to the hotel receptionist, hoping he could find a plausible
explanation for their stay if Diablo questioned him about it. "I need to drop by
the office and pick up some papers for tomorrow. Shall I meet you in the bar in
a couple of hours, and we can have that drink?" He handed Rachel her room card.
"You're going to the office now?" asked Rachel, a note of excitement in her
voice. "May I come along as well? I've never worked for such a big, important
company. I'd love to tag along and see where you'll be working when you take
over from Mr Diablo. There might not be time tomorrow; you'll be in meetings all
day. All I have to do is freshen up, and I could meet you back here in just a
few minutes." She looked at Chris, her big eyes wide and hopeful.
Chris thought for a moment. He knew he'd impressed Rachel with his hints of
professional acumen. Not that it wasn't true, he thought hastily. He'd just led
her to believe his promotion would happen sooner than perhaps it actually might.
He mentally calculated his options. It was late afternoon now, and would be
early evening by the time they arrived at the office. He was reasonably certain
there wouldn't be too many people around to blow his story if Rachel said
something stupid. "Good idea!" he agreed at last, giving in to temptation.
"Perhaps I'll even show you the view from Diablo's office," he suggested
grandly.
"Oh, thank you!" Rachel squealed, flinging her arms around him, her soft, full
breasts pressing into his chest. Chris hugged her back, his hand lingering
lightly on the curve of her ass. "Run along and do whatever it is you do when
you women freshen up," he smiled. Rachel nodded happily, disengaging herself.
She blushed as Chris patted her on the bottom before she hurried towards the
elevators. Chris watched her go with a smile playing around his lips. He'd
decided she really was very sweet, very fuckable. She made him feel good, he
realized.
The floor was dark and quiet when the elevator doors slid open with a quiet
whoosh to impressive reception area. On the pretext of showing Rachel a few of
the attractions of the city, Chris had instructed the cab driver to take the
long way. Most people, Chris noted with satisfaction, had departed for home.
Rachel stepped through the doors into thick, cream carpet. "Wow," she breathed,
taking in the majestic sweep of the reception desk, the luxurious waiting area,
and the subtle elegance of the oil paintings adorning the walls. "This is
amazing! This is nicer than some people's houses!" She trotted after Chris as he
strode down the corridor. Her stiletto heels sank into the plush pile, leaving
tiny indents behind. He stopped outside a closed door bearing a brass plaque
gleaming dully against the dark wood. "Ricardo L. Diablo, Vice President, Sales
and Marketing," mouthed Rachel, drawing to a halt beside Chris. "This is his
office?" she asked.
"For now," Chris hinted, then smiled at Rachel.
"Let's go in!" suggested Rachel cheekily, her eyes gleaming.
Chris looked doubtful. Now that they were here, it didn't seem like such a great
idea. What if they got caught? Diablo would have his ass for sure.
"It would be so exciting," encouraged Rachel, sensing his hesitation. "I love
exciting men," she reminded him, fluttering her eyelashes. She ran a red
polished nail delicately across the back of his hand. "Don't you want to try out
his chair? I bet you'd look so strong, so powerful," she murmured, her nipples
visibly erect through the sheer silk of her blouse.
"It might be locked," said Chris, his hand hovering on the door handle. Rachel
wriggled gently between Chris and the door, her ass brushing tantalizingly
against his groin. Chris felt his cock surge in his pants.
"Let me try," she offered, turning the handle. Then she gasped as the door swung
open, revealing Diablo's office. Although the room was dark, the lights of
Manhattan cast a muted glow over the opulent room. "Look at this," she breathed,
stepping inside. The room was magnificent. It was a corner office, and great
expanses of glass ran the full length of two of the walls. Because they were so
high, the view was spectacular. A third wall was lined with dark timber
bookshelves, which were crammed with leather-bound books. A set of golf clubs
rested quietly in a corner. Rachel squinted as she saw a collection of trophies
and photographs displayed almost casually on one of the shelves. "Look, Chris! I
think that's a photograph of him playing golf with Tiger Woods!"
"Yeah, yeah," muttered Chris a little sulkily. "Golf's so last decade."
Drinking in the surroundings, Rachel ventured further into the room. A huge
mahogany desk dominated the room, complete with a large high-backed leather
chair. The desk was clear except for a small, bronze sculpture, a leather
blotter and an old fashioned ink well complete with a heavy fountain pen. To one
side of the desk, two leather Chesterfields faced each other across a marble and
glass coffee table. A round, heavy, cut crystal vase was home to freshly cut
exotic orchids. A matching decanter with a selection of glassware sat regally on
an antique liquor cabinet in the corner. In all, the effect was expensive,
powerful and masculine. "This is fantastic," Rachel sighed.
Even Chris was impressed, though he tried not to show it. He hadn't been in
Diablo's office since he took over; Diablo's predecessor's office had been
further down the hall. Obviously they'd vacated this space especially for him,
he thought jealously. "It's okay," he sniffed aloud. "A bit overdone, though,
don't you think?"
"You're probably right," Rachel agreed hastily. "I like the way you've decorated
your office better. The baseball pennants on the wall give it a really homey
touch. Plus you've got that huge big screen TV. He doesn't have that," said
Rachel, looking around. Chris nodded, slightly mollified. He didn't think it
necessary to draw her attention to the Bang & Olufsen plasma screen, which hung
unobtrusively on the far wall. Or the deceptively simple-looking music system
which accompanied it.
"Try out his chair," said Rachel mischievously, her eyes dancing. I'll sit
here," she said, wriggling onto Diablo's desk, "and pretend to take dictation."
She looked at Chris suggestively as she reclined on the polished wood, her
tongue flickering over her moist, red lips for just a brief moment. Chris
swallowed, his throat dry as her breasts pushed against the filmy material of
her blouse, straining the buttons. Rachel extended one slim, nylon clad leg and
pretended to adjust her stockings. Chris' eyes followed the line of her leg from
her delicate ankle to the glimpse of lace whispering just above the hemline of
her short, short skirt. He felt his balls tighten with anticipation.
"Okay," he managed, rounding the desk. He sank into the soft leather of Diablo's
chair, feeling it envelope him like a warm glove. Rachel swiveled around to face
him and scooted her ass to the edge of the desk until she was sitting just in
front of him. Then, slowly and deliberately, she parted her legs and rested her
feet on each arm of the chair. Leaning forward, she caught Chris' tie and pulled
him towards her, her lips hovering just inches from his. "Shall we continue
where we left off?" she whispered, her fingers loosening his tie and sliding it
from his neck. Pulling his shirt from his pants, she unbuttoned it and shrugged
it from his shoulders, throwing it on the floor. Chris groaned as her
fingernails scraped lightly against his throat, then down his chest.
"I think that's a very good idea," he said thickly, his fingers fumbling for the
buttons on Rachel's blouse.
Rachel laughed softly, flicking his fingers away. "My way, Chris. We'll do it my
way. A massage first, I think. Here, on Mr Diablo's desk. Come on," she coaxed,
leaping lightly off the desk then patting the surface enticingly. "We don't know
how much time we've got."
Half crazed with lust, Chris jumped to his feet. He couldn't believe his luck.
Rachel unbuckled his belt, then undid his pants. "My, my," she crooned, tracing
the swollen outline of his cock through his shorts. "I think I'll massage your
chest first. After all, I did your back last night." She smiled seductively,
then shimmied Chris' shorts down his legs so they puddled around his feet along
with his pants. Chris' cock sprang free, swollen and hard. "Lie down, sweety,"
she murmured, pushing him gently against Diablo's desk. Chris was powerless to
resist; all rational thought had vanished. Rachel was driving him to
distraction. He lay back on the desk, his ass hanging just over the edge because
of his height. It was a little uncomfortable, but he didn't care.
Chris watched Rachel hungrily as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, letting it
fall from her shoulders in a slither of silk. Her large, full breasts were
barely contained in a black lace half-cup bra, her nipples clearly prominent.
Catching Chris' eye and holding his gaze, she reached around and unzipped her
skirt, then stepped out of it, leaving her stockings and heels on. His cock
throbbed as he drank in the sight of the woman in black lingerie before him, her
shaven mound framed by her garter belt.
"No panties?" he said hoarsely. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"No panties," confirmed Rachel, fumbling in her purse. "Spread your arms out,"
she said softly. Chris started a little as he felt Rachel wrap a silken cord
around one of his wrists, then secured the other end to the leg of the desk.
"Wha...?" he protested, not sure this was a good idea.
"Sshh," she soothed, bending over his groin and tickling his cock with her hair.
Chris gasped. "It adds to the experience, haven't you been restrained before?"
Chris gulped. "No," he groaned as her fingers danced over his hard flesh.
"You'll love it," promised Rachel, securing his other wrist with another silken
cord. Chris gave in. He was past caring.
His eyes were drawn to her pussy, her cunt lips pink and rosy in comparison to
the black lace of the garter belt. "Is that a tattoo?" he asked, looking as
closely as he could at a symbol on the pale skin of her inner thigh. The light
was dim; he couldn't quite make out the design.
"Yes," Rachel said softly. "It's the mark of the devil," she smiled, then
laughed strangely.
Spitting into her hand, Rachel slid her hand slowly down Chris' cock for
lubrication, then grasped it firmly at the base while she slid a cock ring over
his erection. "I want you nice and hard for a long time, sweety," she murmured,
making sure the cock ring fitted snugly against the base of his shaft and his
groin. There was no resistance from Chris; he was putty in her hands. He sighed
in exquisite ecstasy as Rachel climbed onto the desk, straddled him, flexed her
fingers, and then began to massage his chest with practiced moves, his hard cock
nudging her soft ass as she bent over him.
"This is all very...cosy."
Chris' and Rachel's heads snapped around to see a shadowy figure leaning against
the door to the office, his face cast in shadows. Chris' face paled as the man
stepped into the room, the glow of the city skyline illuminating his features.
The man was tall and ruggedly handsome, and moved with the predatory grace of a
large cat.
"Mr Diablo, we weren't expecting you!" Chris rasped with embarrassed horror, and
tried to wriggle out of his bonds.
"Evidently," replied Diablo dryly. Diablo fixed his ice blue gaze on Rachel.
"You," he snapped. "Come." Diablo pointed to a spot at his feet. Rachel
scrambled off the desk and scurried across the room to kneel before him, her
hands folded behind her back and her head lowered. Diablo reached down, twisted
a handful of her hair in his grip and raised her head so their gazes met. He
searched her eyes for long moments. "Slut!" he growled, then released her hair.
He pulled a leather collar from his suit pocket and fastened it around her neck.
Rachel's face glowed with submissive humiliation, and she lowered her head once
more.
"Hey!" protested Chris, so genuinely shocked that he forgot his own predicament.
"You can't do that!"
"I can do whatever I want," Diablo said mildly. "She's mine. I own her."
Chris' mouth gaped uselessly. "Wha...? You told me you didn't have a boyfriend!"
he blurted stupidly at Rachel. He was still too shocked to think straight.
"May I speak, Sir?" asked Rachel softly, her eyes still downcast. Diablo nodded.
"He's not my boyfriend, He's my Master," said Rachel proudly.
"I don't understand," said Chris dumbly, trying once more to release himself
from the silken cords that bound his arms tightly to the desk. His struggles
were in vain. His cock, kept hard by the cock ring, bobbed ridiculously with his
exertions.
"I've always been of the opinion," said Diablo as he prowled across the room,
"that you talk too much, Henderson. Turning to Rachel, he ordered, "Gag him,
slut. When you've done that, pour me a cognac." Diablo settled down in his big
leather chair and watched as Rachel rose quickly to her feet and selected a ball
gag from the bottom drawer of his desk. Chris thrashed wildly as she approached
him, his eyes wild and panicked.
"I suggest you let her," warned Diablo. "I'm not a patient man. Am I, slut?" he
rapped, fixing Rachel with an icy glare.
"No, Sir," said Rachel softly, slipping the gag in Chris' mouth. Chris groaned
uselessly as Rachel gently lifted his head and buckled the straps, fixing the
gag firmly in place. A variety of emotions flickered across Chris' face - anger,
fear, embarrassment and shame - while Diablo watched with amusement. Completing
her task, Rachel padded softly across the room and splashed cognac into a glass.
Handing it to her Master, she settled quietly at His feet once more. A short
silence ensued, stretching the charged atmosphere to breaking point.
"Well, Henderson, you're quite a sight," mocked Diablo, breaking the silence.
"All trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Whatever shall we do with you?" He
swirled the golden cognac in the crystal glass and sipped it thoughtfully. Chris
growled angrily through the ball gag. "Be quiet," Diablo snapped. "You're
beginning to annoy me." Chris fell silent immediately, his eyes rolling in
panic, his poor cock still hard, though all erotic thoughts were completely
erased from his mind. "I have decided," Diablo said quietly, "that you are in
need of an attitude adjustment. Of course, we'll discuss the finer points of
your shortcomings tomorrow. But, just so you know exactly where you stand,
you're fucked," he finished succinctly. "Slut, as instructed," he barked.
"Yes, Sir," said Rachel obediently, standing and taking a strap-on dildo from
the bottom drawer. She handed it to Diablo, who fastened it securely around her
waist. Then his fingers probed between the soft, warm folds of her cunt. Rachel
groaned and bit her lip as her Master's long fingers penetrated her roughly,
sinking inside her velvet depths.
Turning her around to face him, his fingers still buried inside her and the fake
cock jutting obscenely from her body, Diablo reached out and slapped Rachel's
face sharply. Her head snapped back, his hand leaving a vivid red mark against
the pale skin of her cheek. Rachel felt herself slide into slow, delicious
submission. "Don't disappoint me, slut," he warned softly, sliding his fingers
out of her cunt.
Smearing her juices on the end of the dildo, he said, "I'm a cruel man,
Henderson, cruel but fair. You fuck with me, and I'll fuck with you. It's that
simple." He dipped his fingers in Rachel's cunt again, coating the tip of the
dildo until it glistened with her wetness. Then he reached down and drew a long
leash from the drawer of treasures. Snapping it to Rachel's collar with the
other end of it held casually in his hand, he commanded, "Fuck him, slut."
"May I speak while I'm fucking him, Sir?" she asked.
"Yes, you may," replied Diablo, laughing nastily.
Rachel looked at Chris with a cold smile. Revenge glittered in her eyes. She was
naturally submissive, but intensely loyal to her Master and she intended to
wreak her own form of punishment for Chris' derisive words against Him. Chris
fought against his bonds as Rachel approached with a menacing gleam in her eye.
The fake penis glistening with Rachel's cunt juices contrasted absurdly with the
intense femininity of her lacy lingerie. The sight of it sent icy waves of
desperation racing through his mind.
Chris' face was a mask of shock and fear. His head spun and adrenaline coursed
through his system as he eyed the thick dildo sprouting from Rachel's groin. To
his horror, Chris felt tears pricking behind his eyes as he realised what Rachel
intended to do to him. He met her gaze with a silent, desperate plea for mercy.
He now knew that she'd seen straight through his ploys and fabrications and
intensely regretted his behavior. Moaning piteously into his gag, he tried one
last time release himself as he felt Rachel's small hands cool against the heat
of his hips, drawing him closer.
"No!" he sobbed, the word muffled against the rubber invading his mouth as he
felt the cold plastic probing at the puckered entrance to his ass. He grimaced
horribly as Rachel, unaccustomed to the strap-on, misjudged her target and
jabbed his anus sharply and painfully. Although Diablo had lubricated the dildo
to some extent, it was by no means well enough lubricated to ensure an easy
entry. Accepting his fate, Chris tried valiantly to relax himself enough to
accept the intrusion with a minimal amount of pain.
"I'm going to fuck your sorry, pathetic ass," threatened Rachel as she
repositioned herself for another attempt. Holding Chris' hips firmly, she added,
"No mercy, you whiny, lazy, obnoxious piece of shit." Chris winced at the venom
in her words. "Men like you shouldn't be called men," she continued, probing his
ass yet again with the dildo. "You're a disgrace to your gender," she finished,
slamming the dildo home with a savage thrust of her pelvis. Chris screamed into
the gag as the cock penetrated him, sinking a few thick inches into his rectum.
His chest heaved and his throat was thick with tears as Rachel forced another
couple of inches into his reluctant body.
"This gets you hard, doesn't it, you sniveling sissy," taunted Rachel,
scratching her long nails down Chris' stomach she ploughed the dildo into Chris'
ass. Chris shook his head violently in protest, whimpering with shame and
humiliation. "Yes it does," she mocked, flicking his engorged cock sharply with
a thumb and forefinger. They all knew Chris' cock was hard only because of the
cock ring, but Rachel didn't care. She flicked the tip of his dick again, then
flicked his balls for good measure. Stars of pain danced before Chris' eyes. A
short, sharp tug on her leash focused Rachel's attention on Diablo.
"Fuck him, slut," her Master commanded. "Fuck him over." His handsome face was
hard and expressionless as he sipped His cognac and watched His slave wreak his
revenge on His subordinate.
Obeying Him immediately, Rachel rocked her hips back and forth as she thrust the
dildo into Chris' body again and again. Crying openly now, his feet drumming
uselessly against the legs of the desk, Chris had never felt so used, so
humiliated, so degraded in his life. Chris knew he'd been royally screwed, both
figuratively and literally; the mental agony was almost worse than the physical
pain. He felt his masculinity being stripped from him as he was fucked like a
piece of meat in front of his boss by the very woman he'd so cunningly tried to
manipulate into his bed.
Diablo watched the scene before him, his eyes cold. He almost fancied he could
hear Chris' ego shattering a little more with every thrust of Rachel's hips.
Another tug on the leash, and Rachel stopped fucking Chris' ass and looked
questioningly at her Master. "Stop moving," he instructed, walking around behind
her. He unbuckled the belt, but left the dildo embedded in Chris' ass. Chris
looked away, sobbing openly with shame and pain, his aching cock still erect and
throbbing thanks to the cock ring. He knew he'd never be able to look Diablo in
the eye again.
As his subordinate lay broken and sobbing on the desk, Diablo roughly pushed
Rachel face down over the desk next to Chris and kicked her legs apart with a
swift move. She groaned as her breasts pressed painfully into the polished wood,
her Master's hand tangled in her hair and her ass high in the air. Diablo
brought his hand down with a cracking slap on her exposed cheeks, the sound
ringing through the room like a gunshot. He spanked her over and over again,
Rachel responding to each blow with a guttural groan of pleasurable pain. "Do
you want me to fuck you, slut?" demanded Diablo, thrusting his hand between her
legs, his fingers delving into the wetness of her cunt.
"Yes, Sir," she cried, bucking on his hand. "Please fuck me, please fuck me
hard! Please use me, please," she begged.
"You're a nasty little bitch, aren't you?" he hissed, his thumb sliding over her
aching clit. "Who do you belong to? Who owns you?"
"You, Sir," gasped Rachel as His fingers probed her G spot. "I belong to you.
You own me, Sir," she moaned, sliding deeper and deeper into submission.
Though he was dazed and shocked and still crying softly from pain and
humiliation and acutely aware the dildo was still hanging out of his ass, Chris
couldn't help but feel a little envious as he listened to Rachel beg for her
Master's control. No woman had ever begged him like that. It was another cruel
blow to his self-esteem. He wondered how he'd ever imagined he could get the
better of Diablo.
Diablo unbuckled his belt and whipped it through the loops of his pants. With an
expert flick of his wrist he cracked the leather across Rachel's ass with a
cruel snap. Still bent over the desk, Rachel squirmed before him, the welt
rising immediately on her already reddened cheeks. "Count them," demanded
Diablo, striking her again.
"Two," moaned Rachel, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She flinched
as he belted her again, managing a garbled "three" just before he added another
welt to her damaged flesh. "Four!" she yelped, certain she was close to
breaking. Diablo's belt cracked down for the last time, the hardest blow yet,
and she screamed "five!" as he unzipped himself and withdrew his cock from his
pants. Thrusting inside her wet cunt with one brutal move, Diablo began fucking
Rachel hard and fast and deep while she writhed on the table beside the man
she'd just screwed mercilessly. Chris couldn't believe his ears as Rachel begged
to be allowed to cum.
"You can cum, slut," groaned Diablo as he came deep inside her cunt, filling her
with hot, sticky semen. Rachel sobbed with release as her own orgasm swept
violently through her like wildfire, her pussy clenching around her Master's
cock like a vice. She lay used and exhausted on the table as Diablo withdrew
from her pussy with a squelch, and tucked himself back in his pants. "Get up,"
he ordered roughly, tugging on the leash still attached to Rachel's collar. "You
know what to do," he said.
Rachel dragged her used body upright and fixed Chris with a proud, steely glare.
Reaching down between her thighs, she coated her fingers with her juices mixed
with Diablo's cum and smeared it deliberately over Chris' face. He moaned into
the gag in protest, shaking his head from side to side as he tried to escape her
fingers. Scooping more of the sticky mess from her cunt, she slipped her fingers
between the gag and his lips, forcing him to taste the secretions of his
tormentors in a final act of humiliation.
"That's enough," barked Diablo. "Get dressed and release him."
Rachel dressed quickly, wincing a little in pain as her skirt slid over her
damaged ass cheeks. Finding a pair of scissors in Diablo's drawer, she snipped
the silken cords that bound Chris to the desk. Fumbling behind his head, she
unbuckled the gag and dropped it on the desk beside Chris. "You can deal with
the dildo yourself," Rachel said coolly as Diablo tugged on her leash
impatiently.
As they turned to leave the room, Diablo snapped, "I expect you back here at 9am
sharp for your performance appraisal, Henderson. "I, of course, will be in at
7am and I expect this office to be spotless. Do I make myself clear?"
Chris nodded brokenly, his eyes red and swollen, the dildo still protruding
obscenely from his ass, his face shining with cum. "Yes, Sir," he whispered, his
voice cracking as a single tear trickled slowly down his cheek.
Diablo smiled with satisfaction and led Rachel from the office, closing the door
softly behind him.
