11 comments/ 18643 views/ 18 favorites Business Mentor By: UnivAtlas Meritocracy: the idea that anyone can rise up to the top based on their skills. Everyone preaches it, but nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, an incompetent, bumbling worker isn't going to get promoted, but merit is just the pre-requisite. What you need to have just so you won't get waved off like an annoying fly. The rest is connections. The higher the better, as they pull you up the ladder, with no one able to argue with their decision. You become part of their sphere, untouchable so long as you remain their favorite. It's the simplest way to rise. It's also the one you have no control over. Because once an exec picks you, you become theirs. It's the first rule of management: Take what you want. I had just finished my presentation when I noticed him. A streak of grey in his hair, intense sky-blue eyes, impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit while everyone else (sans me) wore business casual, and an air of authority. Dante Rhodes, Executive Vice President of Strategy and Development and next in line to be CEO, was a commanding presence in any scenario, and when he stood up at his full 6 foot 4 inches, he towered over others. He rose from his seat. "Ken, thank you for your hard work." His words rippled across the conference room, and I glanced back at my slide to remind myself where I was. Right. Presenting the results of a two-month analysis on a market we'd failed twice to penetrate. I bowed my head in thanks and wrapped up with "I would be happy to answer anyone's questions." Fifteen minutes of discussion followed, where I allayed the various concerns that the Strategy, Operations, and Finance teams had. Yes, partnering with domestic firms would gain us a foothold into the Asia-Pacific markets. We could guarantee a recovery of expenses before the partner firm made a profit, and milestone profit sharing margins would guarantee their commitment to promoting the joint venture. If our branding was in equal prominence on the joint product, we could measure an increased name recognition and wind down the partnership... To be fair, all good questions, but having spent four days preparing for this talk, it was too easy. All while a pair of stunning blue eyes were burning a hole in my suit. The presentation that I started 11:30 didn't finish discussion until nearly 1pm, and the questions died off just as much because of hunger as because I already had the answers. After a round of thank-yous, the conference room cleared out, and I packed up my briefcase before following them. "Heading off to lunch?" Dante Rhodes smirked as I exited the meeting room. "Great presentation, by the way. Perhaps we'll finally get some decent market share in China." I smiled back. "Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate that, coming from you." I looked up at his infectious grin. At 6'1", I'm hardly short, but somehow the few inches made a world of difference. I stuck out my hand. "I don't know if we've formally met yet, but I'm Ken Hayashi, a Financial Associate." After two years of slaving away, I'd finally gotten the promotion from Analyst, and I was damn proud of the new title. Mr. Rhodes shot out his hand to grab mine, crushing it in his grip. "Dante Rhodes, and I think you already know my title," he winked. "Are you on your way to lunch," he queried. "Yes, I was just about to head out." His grin widened. "Come with me. I had plans to meet someone at The Grid, but he bailed, and I've still got the reservations." His arm sneaked around my shoulders as he led me to the elevators and pressed for the ground floor. The Grid was the premier business lunch and dinner restaurant in the financial district, having been founded some years prior by a banking executive who retired early to pursue his culinary passion. As the story went, coworkers at his former firm made it an unofficial policy to bring all their clients there, and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. The Grid was the premier restaurant because people went there, and people went there because it had the premier reputation. Additional chefs were hired to round out the menu, and so the restaurant acquired the quality necessary to stay on top. Reservations had to be made two weeks in advance, though if one was suddenly cancelled, the right connections could snag it. Dante Rhodes was exactly that kind of connection. The maître d' bowed to him in recognition as we entered through the doors, and a twenty-something waitress, clearly fashion model material, led us to our table. Rumor had it that the restaurant only hired attractive Ivy League graduates who either wanted to get a break from work or to gain connections to The Grid's assortment of patrons. After handing out the menus, the waitress gave an unsubtle once-over to Mr. Rhodes and then left us. I looked up from my menu to meet Mr. Rhodes's stare, liquid blue orbs trapping me in place. "So Ken, tell me about yourself. How long have you been with the firm?" "Two years as of July." It was September now. "I joined right after graduation." "Where from?" "U Chicago." "Really? You strike me as a Harvard-type kid." "I visited, but I didn't get the sense that it was for me." I cocked my head. "So instead you went to the college where fun goes to die," Dante cracked a smirk at his own joke, and I could do nothing but respond in kind. "They graded us on being buzzkills." Mr. Rhodes whipped his head back and let rip a hearty laugh. "We'll see if we can train that out of you!" He winked. "Clearly you're still capable of taking a joke, so we've got something to start with." My face reddens. "Of course, Mr. Rhodes." He leans over and gives me a serious look. "Honestly, Ken, you have a lot of potential, and it would be a shame not to see you thrive. What you presented today tells me that you already have the technical skills down, and you're definitely capable of learning the communications and management skills to rise up. I'd love to guide you there." The waitress makes an ill-timed appearance to serve our drinks. She gives another slow once-over to Mr. Rhodes, but he quirks an eyebrow and waves her off after she's taken our orders. I return to his question. "I...I would be honored, Mr. Rhodes. You have no idea how much I'd appreciate it." My cheeks are burning red, and judging from the grin on Rhodes's face, he knows it. "I'm glad to hear it, Ken. Just realize that this will be an all-encompassing guidance, even outside the office. We need to have a strong relationship for this to work. Understood?" I nodded. "Of course." He clapped. "Wonderful! Then your first lesson is to call me Dante. I may be your senior, kiddo, but I'm not that old." It was true. For all that he'd reached the highest pinnacle of the corporate hierarchy, Dante Rhodes was still barely pushing 40. His streak of gray hair was genetic, according to the office gossip, and he relentlessly stayed in shape, keeping a young body that filled out his suits well. Office ladies spared no details, and Ken had the misfortune of having his desk surrounded by them. As he raised an eyebrow, I realized that I was staring aimlessly and snapped out of it. "Sure thing, Dante." I tried the name out. The name rolled off my tongue, infused with power and authority. The waitress returned again with out entrees, this time barely giving Dante a glance and instead angling her cleavage in front of my face as she set my plate down. With a flirty glance, she sauntered off, and I gave Dante a save me look. The bastard just laughed. "You do know why the servers choose to work here, right?" I didn't respond quickly enough, and he continued: "they need to find an in for a company, so they try to attract their patrons' attention for a less professional...mentorship." I widened my eyes. "You mean..." "Yes, a sugar daddy. Not that it's any use on me. She doesn't know the number one rule of management." Dante leaned over to the center of the table, and I copied him. He whispered into my ear, "things don't come to you. Find what you want and take it," his low bass tones sending a shiver down my spine. "The corollary is that only management takes. The rest simply receives." He flashed a smirk. "Of course, she seems to have decided to go after you too. Give yourself five, ten years, and you could be in a position to help that little lady out," he said, still smirking. "Not interested," I ruled flatly, making a disgusted face. Dante laughed, sending further shivers through me. "Good answer," he commended me. "You're a little too low on the org chart to be thinking with any head besides this one," he tapped his skull. "Of course, I'm not, and I take great pleasure in that." My cheeks burned hotly at Dante's remark. Oh god. I didn't expect him to make such a sexual joke. My friends had never really done that. We'd never talked about sex and relationships, even James, who'd had a steady girlfriend throughout undergrad. While I'd had a couple experiences, I spent most of U Chicago without looking, or being interested in sex. To have Dante, a mountain of a man, huge in stature and reputation and probably having scored with women more than I could count, tell me that was surreal. I averted my eyes and stared at the plate, not willing to face him. "You don't have to worry, Sir." "Well, we'll spend some time together and see." I looked up, puzzled, only for Dante to give another wink. "Besides, anyone can take that path, whether they intended to or not. Working from the inside has an advantage: you're already there. It's just a matter of getting a top-level executive to take an interest in you." No. He couldn't mean... "Shall we head back?" He asked. I checked my watch. Good lord, we'd already been here for an hour! "Yes, let's," I piped back, eager to change the subject. Dante rose, and outstretched his hand to me. It was large and warm. I had smaller hands, with thin, long pianist's fingers. Dante's seemed like they could simply close a fist and completely consume mine. I rose. Dante was in my personal space. I began to step back, but his arm wrapped around my shoulders again as he led me out of the restaurant. "Wait! Did we settle the bill?" I sputtered. His arm squeezed my shoulders as he turned and gave an up-close wink. I swallowed. "They have my card on file," he promised. "More importantly, are those leather shoes I see? And a leather band for your watch? You have good taste," he noted with a lilt in his voice. "I like the feel of leather," I replied. "It's quite comfortable..." I trailed off at Dante's appraising look. He morphed into a sly smirk. "That's quite bold of you, Ken. To know that you're into that..." My face burned bright and hot at his teasing. The way I spoke, it certainly did sound like that, didn't it? "Don't worry," he squeezed my shoulders. "Everything I see just makes me like you more and more. By the time I'm through with you, will I have seen all of you?" I thought my face would be permanently red when I was around him. "Perhaps I'll have to buy you some leather as well, since it suits you so well. You can call me 'Sir' if you want, of course." Another shade redder. We reached the office building and had an elevator to ourselves, me getting off on the floor below him. As the elevator door opened, he called out, "Ken, meet me at 5:30pm in my office. We'll grab dinner and discuss your professional development more." I nodded as the doors closed again and returned to my desk, where luckily the office gossip ladies were on break. It was a good chance to catch up on work; the entire morning had been blocked off for presentation preparations. I read, replied to, and deleted my backlog of 23 emails in silence, and a new messaged arrived in my inbox just as I finished. The sender was an unfamiliar HR rep, with the subject "URGENT: Position Reassignment Pending" Dear Ken, Congratulations! Your transfer request to the Strategy & Development group as a Senior Strategic Associate II is currently being reviewed and processed. You will report to Dante Rhodes, EVP of Strategy & Development. Please allow up to 3 business days for this to complete, at which point you will be contacted to finalize your new office location, position responsibilities and changes to compensation. Sincerely Yours - "You didn't tell me that you were transferring!" A shrill voice forced me to look up. Esther, a 30-something coworker, hugged my neck as she read over my shoulder. Her perfume, a sickly sweet scent that she loved, surrounded my desk. "When's the move?!" I subtly leaned out of her embrace, trying to steal a breath of fresh air. "According to this email, sometime next week." What else could I say? That Dante Rhodes could change someone's job title within fifteen minutes of getting off an elevator was startling, but I wasn't about to complain. "It's come as a surprise to me too, Esther." "Take care of yourself, okay?" She wore a troubled expression, almost pitying me. "There are a lot of rumors about Dante Rhodes. He's a great person to work under, but apparently, his last three PAs all quit suddenly." "Everyone else raves about him, but according to the office gossip, each of them approached him for a relationship and got violently turned down. They couldn't even find jobs in the city," she continued. My eyes widened. "I'm surprised that they would try that, given company policies on fraternization." Esther sighs. "Mr. Rhodes supposedly hasn't had a steady girlfriend in company memory. According to ladies' room gossip, he's the most eligible bachelor in the firm. His salary breaks seven figures, he has twice that in stock options, and he's going places. The lady who gets his attention will have her life changed." Dante's words from lunch rang in my head. "the number one rule of management: things don't come to you. Find what you want and take it." I looked to Esther. "Perhaps he doesn't like being propositioned," I suggested. She shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter. It's not like you'd try to do that!" She laughed, and I chuckled with her. I realized that I was gay in college and had one brief fling, but relationships and sex had always taken a backseat in my life. Perhaps Dante had just been teasing me, just because of The Grid's atmosphere. Or he had uncanny gaydar. "Only an idiot would approach their boss for sex, company policies on fraternization notwithstanding," I respond. *** At 5:25, I received a new email: See you in five in the lobby. Dinner (Thai takeout) and drinks at my place. Business Mentor I needn't have worried that it wouldn't fit. The insertion tube of the bulb was so thin and lubricated that it slid in without a second's hesitation, and the rest of the tube was slowly sucked in too. When it felt stable, I began squeezing the bulb, grimacing as the solution filled me up. I stopped when the bulb emptied out, and held it. Around the two-minute mark, I couldn't handle the pressure, and pulled out the bulb and squatted over the toilet. Waste rushed out, leaving me feeling both relieved and incredibly empty. I flushed, then refilled the bulb with warm water and repeated the process. When the second round came back with clean water, I packed up the red kit and replaced it beneath the counter. I redressed in my pants and belt, and slipped on my shoes before slowly unlocking the door and returning to Dante, black kit in tow. He was just setting a pitcher of ice water as I approached. With a smile and wink he hugged me and asked, "did you do what I said?" I nodded, but he shook his head. "I need you to speak, boy." "Yes...Sir," I forced out. His grip tightened. "I did what you asked." His hands slipped down to squeeze my cheeks, and I helplessly gasped. They still felt so sensitized, so empty, still excited from Dante's earlier remarks. He growled. "Lay over the back of the couch." I complied, bending over, and Dante wasted no time undoing my belt and shucking my pants and boxer briefs down. I sucked in a breath as he exposed my cheeks - grabbing each, squeezing, and giving a light slap that made my cock jolt. He leaned over me, his clothed groin against my bare ass. "You ever do this before?" "God, never," I gasped. He ground against me and stole my breath, blood rushing to my head as my legs parted a fraction further. "Yes, just like that," he encouraged. "Give me the bag." Before I was even conscious of my actions, I handed it to him. "Do you know what's in this bag?" He asked. I nodded, and Dante's hand fell upon my right cheek, lightly slapping it and leaving a pink imprint. I jostled on top of the sofa with a low whine. "I expect verbal confirmation from you, boy. Do you know what's in this bag?" He left an identical imprint on my left cheek. "Yes Sir!" I cried out, and his two hands began rubbing and soothing as soon as the words left me. "That's a good boy," he whispered to me. He stepped back and left me lying atop the couch, pants pooled at my shoes, while he unzipped the bag and rummaged around. I wanted to know what he was doing, but didn't dare look back as snaps and hisses sounded. As I began to fidget, I felt a hard, chilled object rub around my hole. "This is a vibrator, boy. It's your first time, and I am a big man, so you're going to wear this during dinner to help you adjust. Understood?" "Yes Sir!" I quaked. "However..." the vibrator pulled away, and he suddenly began pulling off my shoes, pants, and briefs, "I've got something to help it stay in. Leather, just for you." He dangled connected strips of leather in front of me, until it clicked: a harness. He pulled it back behind me and maneuvered my feet through the holes, sliding it up until it fit me snugly. "Now, get ready boy," he growled, as something slick pressed against my hole, still dilated from the enema, and slid in with a pop. I scrunched my eyes and clenched, unsure about the intrusion and the feeling of fullness, holding in gasps each time a ridge in the vibrator passed into me. But an eon later, I heard, "good job boy. Time to get up." I reached behind me and felt only a rubbery base, shaped like a curved door handle. It was fully in. I turned around carefully and found myself the subject of Dante's stare. While he had always exuded authority and made me feel small, I almost wanted to hide from the strength and lust in those eyes. They swept over me hungrily, pausing at my lower body, and I realized in shock that apart from the vibrator's leather harness, I was bare beneath the waist. After several more tension-filled seconds, he winked. "Time for dinner, cutie." He led me by hand to the table, and I winced with each step as the vibrator jostled inside. He pulled out a chair for me, and I carefully sat, before he pushed it back in. Dante then took the chair across from mine, pouring each of us a glass of water. I leaned in to grab my glass, pausing as the vibrator shifted and pressed against my anal walls. Sparks shot down to my groin, building up pressure even as my cock softened. Almost like I had to pee, but I knew the sensation was different. Dante had arranged the takeout like a buffet style, and we took ate comfortably, him constantly smirking as I winced from shifting in my seat. "Feeling comfortable," he leered. One of his hands disappeared under the table, and I hastily gulped a swig of water to ignore his comment. Suddenly the vibrator began to shake and rattle, pressing on all sides. I immediately groaned and moved around in the seat, which only furthered the stimulation. I searched across the table, and Dante held up a small remote, smirking at me. There was a single dial, and as he turned it, I felt the vibrations increase in strength and frequency. I bit my lip and shut my eyes, my forehead falling onto the table. The urge to rut on the chair was powerful. "You're a natural." Dante said those words in a cavalier, matter-of-fact tone. "Just like I knew you would be. You were made to be a submissive." I ground out, "how," stifling my moans. Dante reached out and rest his hand in my spikes of hair. "You had that look about you," he replied. A pause. "And there's the first rule. Do you remember it?" He began carding through my hair. I nodded. "To take what you want." He gripped and pulled my hair. "Very good, boy," he said and dialed down the vibrations. I rested my face on the table, the cool surface refreshing, as Dante rose and circled the table. He pulled out my chair, lifted me by the suit coat I was still wearing, and mashed his lips against mine. Moans helplessly escaped as his mouth claimed me, tongue pushing in and dueling mine into submission. His hands fell to my back and flattened me against him. I couldn't help my skyrocketing arousal. Here was a man - a mature, sexy, powerful man - confidently playing with me like a toy, and somehow I loved it. I couldn't believe how submissive I was feeling, how desperate I was to suddenly get used. I wanted Dante to take me, to make me part of him, to own me, and somehow he knew it. "Let's go." He dragged me across the space to his bedroom. "Strip, boy," he ordered. I scrambled to undo the buttons on my coat and shirt before, without warning, Dante lifted and threw me onto the bed bare-naked. I landed on my ass, bouncing twice as Dante casually took off his leather belt and unzipped his trousers and white briefs. Holy shit. I froze. His cock was magnificent! A large, thick purpling mushroom head, veins traveling down a smooth shaft that glistened in the low bedroom light. A dollop of clear liquid poised at the tip. The whole thing was massive, jutting out from Dante's body like a javelin. "I am large, boy, but you'll take it." I thought about where it was going and gave a weak whimper. "Turn over." Dante stalked onto the bed and manhandled me onto my stomach, pulling me onto all fours. My face buried itself into the sheets as hands roved over my, streaming down my back, up my legs, circling and caressing my ass. He gripped the vibrator handle. After a few twists that turned my knees weak, he agonizingly pulled it out, my hole twitching at every movement. I felt empty. I had been given a taste of being filled and needed more. "Please," I croaked. His hard, hot cock slapped against my cheeks and my pulsating rosebud. I heard the click of a cap opening, and I shivered as he rubbed the cold gel onto me. He pressed and the thick head slid in with a pop. "Ooh," I arched my back and moaned. Dante's hands gripped my hips and pulled me back, his shaft gliding in without resistance. My hands balled in the bed sheets. I didn't know if I could take this. Dante's cock felt like a spear, splitting me in two. I was more than full, I was bursting at the seams, and his cockhead was still pressing further inside, charting unexplored territory of places I hadn't known I could feel. One of his hands wrapped around my neck and pulled my head back. I turned, and he took the hint to kiss me. His lips were softer than I'd imagined, but there was a burning hunger behind them that consumed me. I felt a flash of sharp pain as Dante thrust fully in, balls resting against my cheeks. I gasped, rocking slightly. I was so stuffed that his head must've reached my stomach, but he just fluttered kisses on the back of my neck and paused, letting me adjust. "Good boy." The words rolled off his tongue so lovingly that I clenched, trying to draw him in further. My tool was as solid as steel, the tip dragging against the sheets. Dante slowly inched out before pushing back in, keeping a slow pace as my insides shifted to accommodate him. The consuming fullness and the heat of Dante's body had me panting, needing this to continue forever. "Feeling okay boy?" He whispered in my ear, and I nodded frantically. "Good answer." The thrusts suddenly turned longer and faster, with Dante pulling most of the way out before slamming back in, shaking me on all fours and wrenching needy gasps from my lips. Each time he pulled out, I gasped at how empty I suddenly felt, unsure how far he'd withdrawn but intimately feeling the space he took in me. Then he would thrust back in forcefully, and I'd struggle to stay balanced as I moaned and arched my back, welcoming him back inside me. The pain and discomfort was gone, leaving only the fullness and the emotional joy of being owned. I didn't know how much I could take; it was all so new and perfect. I gave a pitiful whine when he pulled out completely and didn't immediately re-enter. I needed this. How could he take this away so soon, now, when I was so hard and close? He manhandled me until I lay on my back and he reared above me, grabbing my legs and resting them on his shoulders. Dante pressed his body down, pushing my legs up until my knees rested against my chest and my feet in the air with his face inches from mine. His eyes sought me and I gazed back, lost in them. If anyone could hypnotize, it was Dante, and I was now his willing prey. He stole a kiss. "You're doing so well, my boy." Yes, I'm yours. Yours to take. Oh please, take me. Folded in half as I was, my hole lay completely exposed, and it gaped, begged for something to fill it. Dante's cock tapped my opening one, two, three times and I sucked him in, groaning in satisfaction as he claimed me. The thrusts were rapid, strong, even brutal, yet I couldn't get enough of it. Dante Rhodes had broken me into a world of pleasure, and I didn't know if I could survive without it. My cock bounced violently as he thrust, completely neglected yet so hard that each movement hurt. "You're close, boy." Yes, I was so close to bursting. I would proudly be Dante's boy, his to own and to use, if he could give me this. At first, I had thought that this might be a side-benefit to the professional advancement, but now it was reversed. I needed Dante, and work was the farthest thing from my mind. A hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed, startling me into Dante's hungry gaze. "You're going to come when I say so, boy. Understood?" A brief squeeze, and I nodded, choking out "yes Sir!" as he continued thrusting. "Almost..." I winced as the thrusts turned savage, sliding me on the bed. "Ready..." I looked down and eyes widened. Our bodies, mirroring each other as his dark nipples lay above mine, ringed with black.. Dante reared up, and I saw his hairy chest and muscled six-pack. Further down lay a thick bush of dark hair, and I gasped as his cock thrust, withdrawing until I saw an impossibly long shaft, then disappearing into me with another primal thrust. "NOW, BOY!" I lost it. I didn't notice afterward, as Dante shuddered and slowly ceased his thrusting. As he let my legs fall and collapsed onto me, sharing tender kisses before slowly pulling out, his copious cum leaking. I barely recognized as he cleaned up, turned off the lights and moved me beneath the sheets, spooning behind me. I hardly felt his strong, thick arms wrap around me, cradling my head under his chin and caressing me as he fell asleep. I simply screamed, exploding onto my chest, even shooting onto my face, and faded to black.