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.
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