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Why I Love My Job Ch. 01

By: HandsInTheDark



I work for the Company; and I have to tell you, it's great.

I'm in Litigation, which is the second largest department, beaten only by Finance. Litigations is an umbrella term; we handle contracts and all government agreements, legal disputes inside and outside the Company, and of course the political fees and smoothers. The job is a sinecure if there ever was one; with the long overdue death of consumer rights we're pretty much immune to prosecution from anyone who buys from us; which of course includes you, by mandate. The Litigation with the government is continual and never-ending and a matter of forms; and it doesn't mean a damn thing, it's just how we keep the spigot of government subsidies and payouts flowing. "Oh well," says the Legislators. "We lost another lawsuit and the Company gets their trillions again this year, nothing we can do, law is law." Such good boys. We make sure the elections go smoothly; that's what Finance is for after all.

I've been here eleven years, and done very well for myself. It's all in knowing how. Once I hacked into Human Resources and got access to the personnel files, I was golden. The boys upstairs signed my renegotiated contract without a fuss and now my bonus is nice and regular. I'm a good blackmailer; I handed over the evidence as soon as they thumbed the contract. (A few people have tried to double-dip at that game, and they ended up at the bottom of the river. It's all in knowing the rules.) For the boys upstairs, paying out bonuses is just a cost of doing business and all very tax-deductible. If you don't get stupid it's all good.

That's my motto, in fact. If you don't get stupid, it's all good. You just have to know which rules are there for show and which ones really do get applied to your pay grade. 

Which brings me to why I love my job so much.

The Company does have to toe the line when it comes to the Full Employment Act, so we hire to quota every year. Since everything that matters is decided upstairs, and everything else more or less runs on automatic, we're basically hiring bodies to look busy and keep the wheels spinning. Yeah, we do need some smart people in Product Development – it's not easy coming up with cheaper and cheaper ways to manufacture the Mandated Products – and the Finance and Litigation people need to be on their toes in case the Legislators ever start pretending they call the shots. Mostly, though, the Schools disgorge their graduates and we comb though, picking what we like, and it's all good as long as the quotas get hit. 

It's not like it's any secret – we have to hire 52% women and we need to hit the racial numbers, but that still gives us a lot of freedom to choose what we like. And what we like, in our women, is hot bodies, pretty faces, average intelligence, and a record of doing what you were told in School. You can cry me a river if you think it's wrong. The ones the Company doesn't hire... yeah, enjoy your career in the Municipals, or Services. Life at the poverty line sucks, baby, and so does a seven day workweek. You want to be here.

And our interviewees are eager to prove how much they want to be here. Skirts are short during interview week – and stay short for the female employees who want to move up, or the ones who get in trouble. There's not too much trouble, though. Every once in a while some too-clever bitch works out that this place is sexist, or some damn thing... and takes a complaint to Human Resources. Much hilarity ensues. A word to the Police, and said Miss Too Clever is suddenly arrested with proof-positive of illegal drugs in her apartment, the stuff that we don't manufacture and you have no legal right to own. Enjoy your five years in the Prisons and then a job in Services, if they have openings, because the Company sure isn't taking you back... yeah, we're not about forgiveness here. 

I'm in on the Human Resource betting pool – they give odds on who's going to complain and how many we'll send packing each year. Kind of unfair because they do have full access to the School records, so they know who's likely to have the bright ideas on personal rights. But hey, I've won more than I've lost on the betting so heh. I'll let you in on my technique, because it's petering out anyway - the local ones who had Miss Canara in sixth grade tend to be mouthy, because she was apparently big into teaching personal and employee rights and shit. We got her bagged once we caught on - the Schools have to do business with us like everyone else - so that little issue is resolving itself. 

Some of the girls we hire tend to get... special mentoring from the guys who have done well in the company. You just have to keep your eyes out for an opportunity...

Which gets me to Julianne. 18, Czech parents, face of an angel, body of an exotic dancer – sorry, "Services, Entertainment Provider, Artist, Interpretive Dance." She got in because the eastern European quota law is still on the books – they grow them pretty hot in that part of the world, after all. Had a good phone voice too, so we landed her in Secretarial. Seriously, not a job you'd think anyone could screw up; anything hard is handled by the business AIs, so all she had to do is answer the vid calls, smile pretty, wear a low cut blouse and answer simple questions. All the answers were provided right on the screen, it's not even like she had to memorize talking points or policies. 

But, well... she took a misrouted call from a Legislator Assistant, and he starts flirting her up in that special Congressional way they have, and she felt a little disrespected and said something off script. The computer caught it immediately and her file got flagged. I happened to be poking around the system at the time, saw the flag go up and immediately assigned the issue to me.

She was in my office ten minutes later and already looked scared. She didn't know me – we practiced good matrix management here, and no employee at her level ever knew exactly who decided her fate – but the small blue circle next to my name on the office door told her everything she needed to know.

"Miss Julianne," I said. "Have a seat."

Dark hair to her mid-back, light makeup, large eyes, sweet lips. The requisite low cut blouse, well filled; mid-length skirt, high heels. She worked out, we all did – those mandatory health benefits included treadmill time for everyone, and that paid off in the legs we all spent a lot of time looking at. 

"Mr... Gladgrind," she said. "Is this about the... phone call?"

"Was there a problem on the phone call, Miss Julianne?"

She went paler. "I know I went off script."

"Yes, Miss Julianne. The transcript is right here. You called him a-"

"Please, I'm sorry!"

"Don't interrupt. You called him a pig. I believe that's right?"

"... yes, Mr Gladgrind."

"Honesty is always best. I'm sure you're aware that 'pig' is an offensive term in many cultures. You have had... yes, I see you completed Cultural Awareness. And Deference to Customers. And still, this kind of error? I don't think you're cut out for customer-facing work, frankly."

"Please. Please, I'm new here."

"Yes. That's why we trained you."

"I didn't... he just..."

"He was a Legislative Assistant, Miss Julianne. They can cause us trouble. And trouble for the Company is trouble for the employees. I'm sure you understand how difficult this is-"

"Please." Her eyes were wide and she didn't have to finish the sentence.

"You want another chance? You know there will have to be a Mandatory Disciplinary action for this if you stay." Okay, so I lie sometimes. She was 18, what did she know. Other than how to pick out high heels that made her legs look longer, she certainly had that figured out.

"I... that's fine. What is it?"

"A twenty percent pay rate cut and a re-review of your employment in six months."

She went paler still. We don't overpay at the bottom. I'd just sent her to the poverty level. The Company doesn't hire employees who live with their parents, so she'd be splitting rent somewhere. I wondered how patient her roommates could afford to be.

"Mr. Gladgrind... I'd... I'm not sure how I'll manage, but... I won't make that mistake again, I promise."

"Let me suggest," I said in a softer voice, as if I was doing her an enormous favor, "that a seven day workweek will make up some of the lost income. It's not fun and you won't exactly have a social life, but it looks good to management. It shows a real willingness to mend one's ways."

"I... yes sir."

"Good girl. I'm glad to see you take direction well. Now you need to call the customer back and apologize. This will be off script and off the record – you can use my phone."

"Of... of course, Mr Gladgrind. Anything you say. Thank you."

I left my chair, and she took it, reaching for the call directory. 

"Ah, Miss Julianne."

"Yes?"

"As uncomfortable as this may be for you, I recommend unbuttoning the blouse another button. He will appreciate the gesture, I assure you. If he decides to file a formal complaint against you, no one here can save you, so..."

"I... yes, of course."

I was standing behind her and appreciated the view that undone button gave up for me. Her hand shook a little as she scrolled through the list, set her id and placed the call.

"Mr. Amberchrombie... this is Miss Julienne at Company, West. Do you have a moment?"

He really was a pig, I decided – he had that slimy political look, that cocksure swaggering style, and the way he looked at Julianne... I have to admit I was pretty amused.

"Ah remember you, miss Julianne."

"Yes, I'm... I need to apologize, Mr. Amberchrombie. I spoke badly."

"Why yes, girl, you did. And by now you've realized what a mistake that is, with those fancy AIs recording every damn word you say. In some trouble, are ya? In the boss's office?"

"Y-yes, Mr Amberchrombie."

"Well... You strike me as a good girl at heart, and a very pretty one. I'm wondering how pretty, in fact. Remove the blouse, Miss Julie."

She turned beet red.

"Was I unclear, Miss Julie?" he drawled.

"No-no. Not a-at all."

She removed the blouse with shaking hands. And sat there, red in the face. He eyed her, slowly. So did I.

Her nipples became noticeable through the bra.

"Verrrra nice, girl. You seem capable of learning quickly. Now... the bra."

Miss Julianne shot a terrified look up and back at me. I treated her to a stern look. Shaking harder, she reached behind and unhooked the bra. It slid into her lap and she looked down, horrified.

"Mmmm, nice nipples, girl," he drawled. "I'm starting to feel you're quite a clever girl after all. If things don't work out for you there, I bet I could find you some employ in Potomac Services..."

Ouch. I wondered if she knew she'd been offering a whoring job. Oh, that's "Services, Unrestricted, Body work, exotic" of course. Cheap fucking whores who do Legislators for free, for short. 

"T-t-th-thank y-you, Mr. Amberchrombie."

"Think nothing of it. Nice chatting with you, Miss Julie but I do have things to do other than appreciate your nice apologies. Have a nice day now."

He clicked out. Julianne reached for her bra. I cleared my throat.

"Blouse goes back on, Miss. The bra stays here. I think we want to make sure that all your callers today have no reason to do anything but appreciate your finer points." I took the bra from her suddenly frozen hands, and locked it in my desk. "Get back to work, Miss Julianne."

She quickly buttoned the blouse and bolted from the room.

+++

The next move would be hers; I didn't pay her any attention for the next few weeks. A few quick checks of the records and videos showed she was working the seven day week and her skirts had gotten short. One thing about working for the Company – you learn fast.

After three weeks the screen lit up. Call from Julianne. I thumbed audio only.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Gladgrind... I need to speak to you."

I enabled her camera. Tight top, perfect makeup, gleaming hair. She really was pretty fucking hot. She'd be worth my time...

"Be here in five minutes." I disconnected.

She was there in three. I waved her into a chair, and closed the door behind her.

The skirt was quite short, and she crossed her legs prettily for me. I sat on my desk, facing her.

"I'm... I guess I'm here to plead for mercy, Mr. Gladgrind. I can't make rent on my... new salary. Even with the extra hours."

"Even under disciplinary action, our salaries conform to the law, Miss Julianne."

"I... all I know is I've been told my roommates can't float me for months. And the shelters are full."

I looked her over, slowly. Her hands shifted in her lap, nervously. I allowed my face to be unfriendly. "What do you suggest, Miss Julianne."

"I... was hoping... you had suggestions," she whispered, looking down and flushing pink.

"I'm sure you did." I stood up, and stepped over to the chair, standing behind her. "Things do occur to me. But as I'm sure you know... no matter how tempting you happen to look, it's very much against company policy to engage in inappropriate activity on company time. So I'm certain you don't expect me to suggest anything of that sort."

"Of course... not. I know that's-"

I slid my hand down over her breast. She froze. I continued.

"It's so completely against company policy that if you ever said anything to anyone about such an arrangement, you'd be terminated on the spot." I slid my other hand over her other breast, and cupped them, though the blouse and bra. She was shaking.

"And that's a pity because I believe you could learn to be quite interesting, with practice... if such things were allowed."

I gripped more firmly, and rubbed my thumbs over her nipples, though the cloth, over and over. They hardened. She stared down at my hands.

"Since they aren't..." I pinched down, gently... "we need to think of something more acceptable. I could arrange for a small bonus, worth, say, 30 hours... if only your work was exemplary."

I started to unbutton her blouse. She whimpered, softly.

"But what could you do, I wonder? Exemplary work... that's not a term we use here often, Miss Julianne." I traced my thumbs over the sweet, upwelling breasts. "You'd have to show a very willing attitude, a desire to take anything thrown at you, no matter how... big. And you'd have to be a true team player."

I opened the last button and pulled the blouse down her arms. Her nipples were straining against the thin, tight cloth of the bra. She kept her face hidden, but I already knew about the shock, the horrified embarrassment and the dry lips.

I unhooked the bra and slid it down her arms as well, and then used it to tie her wrists together behind her back. Then I stroked her belly, slowly and lightly, listening to her unsteady, frightened, but unmistakably aroused breathing.

"Do you understand me?"

"I-"

I brought my hands up over her bare breasts, feeling her large, erect nipples press against my palms. I rubbed them, slowly, feeling the hardness of them, enjoying the way her breathing quickened.. "I asked, do you understand me."

"I-... team player?" She whispered.

"Of course. Able to take any position quickly, work in small groups..." I pinched down on her nipples, and then twisted them, lightly. She gasped softly. "It's all about employing your assets for the good of the team," I added. 

"It's... much more than I expected," she whimpered.

"Oh, we'll train you. But... we're very demanding," I murmured against her ear, nibbling it lightly as I twisted her nipples again. "I think you'll learn to appreciate that... and you'll learn to ask for more."

"I... please, you're asking too much..."

"I hope not, for your sake."

I wheeled her chair suddenly around my desk, and put her in front of the camera. Her eyes got huge as I reached over and clicked on a few icons.

The screen lit up with a small square, and then a few others, and still others...

"Meet some of the team," I said. 

"Please no," she sobbed, softly.

I forced my hand into her panties. She cried out, softly, as a finger burrowed inside her and curled. She was already warm and wet, whether she wanted to be or not.

"That's not the team player attitude," I hissed into her ear. "You are going to have to learn to do better. But first... some quick introductions."

I pushed the headset on her. Now everyone would be able to hear her breathing... and she'd be able to hear anything those ten or so guys decided to whisper into her ear. Then I forced the finger in again. She moaned, helplessly. "Please!

"Get used to saying that," I snarled, fingering her faster.

She fought it for ten minutes, then slowly and helplessly arched...

+++

"Cheryl, can we talk?"

"You sound upset, babe." Cheryl didn't even look up from her screen.

"I.. am. Very."

Cheryl glanced over at Julianne. "Okay. I can break in about five."

I watched them through the camera. Julianne was nervous, upset and restless. Cheryl barely looked at her. By the time she pushed the holo aside, Julianne was nearly in tears.

"This place can get to you," Cheryl said. "Hit the cafe?"

"S- somewhere more private."

"Sweets... then we have to leave the building. You know the Company has the right to monitor all conversations, right? And I'm guessing this is something you don't want getting around. Actually, wait, I know of an unused office where the camera's out of commission. Let's check that."

I clicked an icon, scrolled, clicked. I watched them enter the room.

"See," Cheryl said, pointing to another corner. "We're good. It's one of the big old style cameras and it's unplugged. So what's so wrong?"

"It's Mr. Gladgrind," Julianne sobbed. "He..."

"Yeah, I can guess," Chery said. "You made a mistake and now he owns your ass."

Julianne nodded, sickly.

"Wow babe, sorry. How bad was it?"

"He put me on camera for a bunch of his friends and made me... I..."

"I think I get it. Did he, um, leave any DNA evidence? Not to be crude."

"No, he didn't actually... I mean it was his finger..."

"Ok. So... I'm sorry babe. It's that kind of place. You've got no options other than quitting."

"What? What about the Police?"

"Don't be a child. They aren't going to be on your side. The Company does a lot of business with the Police."

"Private lawyer?"

"You can't afford it. Plus, every independent lawyer in town does business for the Company, they do all the stuff we don't want to handle in house because it's too dirty. They won't even talk to you. I'm serious, sweets. This shit just happens."

"Have you ever had to..."

"Had to, no. But I knew about this place when I got here. My first action was to cut a little deal with one of the guys in upper management. He gets what he likes and he keeps me out of trouble with the other guys. So yeah I sleep with the boss but I picked the boss at least. It sounds like you weren't that lucky."

"I'm so fucked. I'm in financial trouble. He gave me a bonus and it gets me through this month but I'm in trouble again next month. I'll have to go to him again!"

"I wouldn't think... look, sorry to say it, but he won't wait for that, not if there wasn't, um, DNA evidence. He'll be back for more, guaranteed."

"I've never even..."

"Oh taxes. You're a virgin?"

"N-no, but... there's a lot I haven't done."

"Gotcha. This will sound awful but... Gladgrind isn't... so bad, you know? He kind of went easy on you from the sound of it. I mean yes he's got you and he will leverage you up good. But he's... nicer than most. He'll keep it clean, if you get my drift. And in the end he'll let you off the hook, just as soon as he finds another playmate."

"He can't just get away with this!"

"Baby... this is the Company. I promise you he can. Don't go to HR. Don't go to upper management unless you want to do even worse things. Absolutely don't take it to Media or an outside lawyer. I'm serious, you either decide to weather this out, or you look for something in Services starting right now. And you can't bail, because unless you're here a year you'd owe them for the training time. You'd be way past broke. I know it sucks but this is the world of business, you know? Look. Try not to piss him off. Be as... accommodating as you can and he will move on in time. "


Why I Love My Job Ch. 01



"I don't even know what all he wants. I can't do this! I have a boyfriend!"

"Really? What's he do?"

"Services. Auto mechanic. I'd just met him when I came here for the interview. Now I never get to see him."

"Oh Jules! Come on. You're Company now. There are people here with money and serious futures. I know you just got hired out of school, but, well, you need to open your eyes. Look at you. Killer body, and you already caught Gladgrind's attention. You want to eat soylent and algae paste all your life? Look, you do what you want, sure. But you're in a place with rich boys with big balls. You just have to learn to play the game."

"I think I'd rather have my boyfriend."

"Baby... now you have two."

+++

I put the call though, audio only, to Cheryl's private office. 

"Miss Cheryl- Oh, hello Mr. Gladgrind."

"Nice work, Miss Cheryl."

"Thank you, sir. She's very naïve."

"She's eighteen. They grow out of it eventually. I put your fifteen hour bonus though. You're going to have to stay available for her. Is that a problem?"

"You should know I'm a Company girl, sir. Nothing's a problem for me when you pay bonuses. I... do want to ask a little something though."

"Heh. Getting brave enough to ask for favors? You are settling in."

"It's not a difficult favor. When she gets... played with... I want to watch."

"Well, well, well. That's a dangerous wish."

"I only want to watch on camera, sir. Nothing on earth could persuade me to go into a room when you boys are having your fun."

"That's much safer. Planning to record what you see?"

"It had crossed my mind. Not for distribution, of course."

"You plan to blackmail her."

"Not anytime soon. But if she rises in the Company – and some of the management's playmates do – I'd like to have something in my back pocket. Her screaming fuck me fuck me fuck me to a room full of guys – and she will be when you're done with her – well, not every boyfriend would be too pleased with that. Not unreasonable, is it? I am helping you, after all. And I know you'll be recording her..."

"Hm. How old are you, Miss Cheryl?"

"Twenty four, sir."

"And you have a guy you're loyal to upstairs, if I recall?"

"Very far upstairs. Why?"

"Just wondering. So you're going to get off, watching Miss Julianne crawl for her fuckings. I want to see that happen."

"You want me to record myself, masturbating?"

"Succinctly put."

"One advantage of having a man upstairs is that I don't have to get drawn into these games with others, sir. I think what you suggest sets a dangerous precedent. And with the video you propose I make, you could cause trouble for me."

"This is strictly about watching you getting off."

"I think, sir, that it's about the little rush you'll have, knowing you have a hot video from a big boss's doxy."

"That does factor in."

"Hm... no, I'm sorry. You play rough. If ever you had reason to go after me, a video of me might get discovered. But I might be willing to counteroffer."

"Yes?"

"You can watch me come... in a hotel room. No recorders of any kind. You can't touch me...but you can come on me. In exchange for the full video of Julianne's experiences."

"Intriguing. But what if you start touching me?"

"You put a lot of hope in your physical attractiveness, sir. Let's just say that if I do deliberately touch you, then you can touch back."

"I think we have an agreement, Cheryl. But you'll watch that video when you're with me."

"And you're hoping it will make me so hot that I'll want more than a little self-pleasuring?"

"Succinctly put, again."

"I suppose it pays to dream big, but I think you are hoping for too much. But if you want in on a little secret... don't go easy on Julianne. Make her know she wants it, make her beg and crawl. That will get to me."

"Why, Miss Cheryl. I never knew."

"What, that I have a mean girl streak and love seeing innocence corrupted good and hard? I promise you it's not that unusual a fetish."

"You could be a natural at our parties."

"I have no innocence left to corrupt. Plus, I kind of like to drive. You and the boys... you'd object."

"And your boyfriend doesn't?"

"After a long day of giving orders he kind of likes it if I just grab his cock and tell him if he's a good boy he'll get pussy."

"Hm. Do you like playing with girls, Miss Cheryl?"

"Privileged information, sir."

"Is it? You and I have never really talked, Miss Cheryl, but you've been here seven years now and you're clearly the sort who claws her way upward. You've got your highly placed patron and that's worked out well for you, but you need more of a network than that. If you're willing to help my friends and I, you could be getting more than these little bonuses."

"Yes, sir, I could. But you and your little network are known to be very, very sexual. I know what you do to girls."

"That's tough, but fair. But we prey on the weak, and you're not weak. In our little group, you'd be one of the predators, not the prey. And I'm suspecting you wouldn't mind having a pretty little girl to play with on occasion...right before you got to hold her wrists down and watch her take a whole lot of cock. There's a big difference between watching on a video... and being able to whisper in her ear, 'Take it you fucking slut, take his cock like a good girl, because there's more lining up for you.'"

Her poker face wasn't as good as she might like. The little shift in her eyes, the too suddenly neutral expression, told me that hit a chord with her.

"Sorry sir. It would get out that I'd been swept up into your group of playmates and people would assume I'm just another weak slut who got taken down by you. No matter how good you are at rumor control, little whispers of things do get out among the girls. And upstairs."

"Play those rumors right and it could work in your favor."

"Or they could screw me. Are you hard right now, sir?"

I blinked a little. "Yes. Are you wet?"

"Yes. But the difference is, I'm not thinking with my pussy, and you are thinking with your cock. I think this conversation should be deferred. I'm still up for our after-school get-together though."

"One last thought, Miss Cheryl. What would it be like for you if I brought Julianne to that get-together."

She blinked. "Just you, me and her... no recording devices... in a hotel room? With me deciding if you can touch me?"

"Yes. You'd have to pay extra. I want information on the X Drug research project. And I know you can get it."

"Alright. Do you promise to toy with her, but only come on me?"

"No. But if I do come on you I'll might make her lick it off you."

"Well... You drive a fascinating bargain, sir. You do know how to appeal to what someone likes. I will... consider your offer carefully. Oh, and sir..."

"Yes?"

She smiled darkly, and opened her blouse, and then undid her front-hooked bra. She half closed her eyes and stroked her breasts, gently. "I have very sensitive nipples," she murmured. "If Miss Julianne were forced to lick and suck them... there's no telling how shameless I'd get or how needy I'd become."

She wasn't as full up top as Julianne, but she had a nice toned look,, and an attractive Asian face framed with long dark hair that just brushed her suddenly uncovered nipples. They were already hard. I chuckled softly. "You're going to go far in this Company. Signing off, Miss Cheryl."

"Have a very good day, sir," she murmured, her smile a thing of wicked, calculated beauty. I clicked out.

Fuck, now I was stone hard and I had meetings to get to. 

+++

"Miss Julianne, to my office please."

The AI flashed up her picture and asked me to confirm the delivery. I clicked and smiled.

She was there in five minutes, eyes down, in a black miniskirt, red heels and red lowcut blouse. Fucking hot. She may have hated what I was doing, but she wanted to keep this job. I had her.

"You look good, Miss Julianne."

"I'm glad it pleases you sir." The slight edge in her voice suggested otherwise but she wasn't stupid enough to voice more of an opinion than that. "What can I do for you?"

"You can sit in that chair and cross your legs like the pretty little treat you are." I could have been nicer about this, but I learned a long time ago that being overly nice to women causes them to lose respect. She did as she was told. 

I stood up, walked behind her chair, and settled a blindfold around her eyes. And waited.

It didn't take long. Her breathing got faster and shallower, and then her nipples began to harden. That last experience with me, two days ago, had gotten to her.

"Tomorrow you're going to get a day off with pay, Julianne. But the evening is going to be taken up by a team building exercise. If you do well at it, you might be in line for another bonus."

"Sir," she said suddenly, and bitterly. "I'm a Company girl. That's supposed to mean something. But you've turned me into a Services Girl."

"You're not the first girl here to be caught in misconduct. So don't imagine you've been specially singled out. And Services girl, as you put it, doesn't have your nice life. When she turns old and ugly she has nothing. Stick it out here and you'll never face that. But fail here and you'd be lucky to do as well as a whore. It's that simple. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir. But... I still want to know what you have in mind for me."

"Do you think you're in a position to negotiate?"

"I know I'm not. But you're cruel. How cruel are you going to be?"

"It's a fair question. Punishing you amuses me, Miss Julianne. But I'm not into inflicting pain. You're going to be sexual for me and my friend, a little fucktoy who learns to beg for cock. But we take care of our toys. Be a good little slut for us and you're safe from layoffs. You'll rise in the ranks over time. Your financial problems will be corrected once we have you well trained."

"Trained," she said, bitterly. "I don't even know what that means."

"I'll show you."

I pulled a chair over, and sat next to her, facing opposite her. "You don't have to be told you're fucking hot. Men want you. The training is to teach you to enjoy being wanted, enjoying being... taken. You'll become a little slut, hungry to please men who have power over you. Here's an example."

I ran my thumb over her breast. "Like it or not, your body likes to be touched. Of course you hate that you don't have a choice. But I'll keep touching you anyway, and you'll get hotter and hotter."

"I do hate this."

"That doesn't matter. It still turns you on. Your nipples are hardening. You're breathing faster. You'll get wet from this. There won't be a camera this time... it's going to be just you and I."

I cupped her breasts, squeezing slowly. She held stock still, but her lips parted. 

"You see... you feel things, even when you're angry. Let's have a look, Julianne."

I opened her blouse, and ran fingertips over the smooth roundedness, then flicked at her nipples. She gasped, and the nipples were suddenly huge and hard. 

"It's impossible not to think about last time, when you were on camera, and all those men saw you fight the orgasm and lose. You went home and cried... but you also masturbated over and over."

"How did you know!?" She blushed scarlet.

"You're not the first girl to be in this situation. Now the bra... now you're going to arch your back for me, like this, follow my hands... I'm going to suck your nipples, miss Julianne."

I didn't have to be rough. She continued to be motionless, but the slow sucking, and the relentless caressing of my hands, was all it took to make her pant. 

"The blindfold makes it more intense, doesn't it."

She didn't answer, so I bit down gently on a nipple. That got a soft moan.

"You don't have a lot of experience... it's hard for a girl your age to find the off switch. And easy for me on find the on switch... now for the skirt."

"Please no."

"I already know you're soaked. There's no shame in that; and anyway you don't have a choice."

I unzipped it and unwrapped it from her. A tear leaked out from under the blindfold. 

I got the vibrator from my desk, and turned it on. The buzz filled the room and she gasped. "No!"

"What did you say, Miss Julianne? I hope it wasn't a word I don't like to hear."

"I've... never..."

"Then hold still."

I traced it lightly over her nipples. She shuddered. "I don't like that!" 

"But it still has an effect, doesn't it. Open your legs, Miss Julianne."

"Please don't-"

I grabbed her thighs and forced them apart. She gasped, panting frantically. I pressed the vibrator lightly right below her clit, through the panties. My other hand gripped her throat, steadying her.

It didn't take long; she was gasping and squirming in seconds. "Stop," she whimpered, suddenly. 

"Shy? I've already seen you come. And you don't have a choice. I'm going to force you to come for me. It's part of your training."

I leaned over and sucked her nipple, as I pressed the vibrator against her slit as far as the panties would allow. Her whimpering became frantic.

I reached down and ripped the panties away. She cried out, thrashing in shock, but I pushed her back into the chair and slowly, mercilessly, began pushing the vibrator up into her. She shuddered, her head tossing from side to side.

It was a rabbit design, and without warning her clit got ruthlessly vibrated. "Do you like sucking cock, Miss Julianne?"

She sobbed softly. The vibrator was getting to her, and I knew my relentlessness was making it more intense. I whispered in her ear. "Do you like... not having a choice, Miss Juliann-"

She arched, already starting to orgasm. I took the toy away, and unzipped my pants. She heard that and whispered "Please... I don't know how..."

I took her by the hair, shifted, and stood over her. "Lick it!"

I forced her mouth to where I wanted it to be. She didn't have a choice. She licked, frantically. She wasn't skilled but that wasn't the point.

I took my cock away and forced the vibrator into her again. Her legs opened wider and she moaned. I fucked her with the vibrator, quick firm strokes, and then held it against her clit.

She sobbed, arcing again. I took it away, and pushed my cock into her mouth.

She sucked, half choking. I was huge and hard, and she'd said "please no" one too many time for a girl who knew she didn't have a choice. I let it cut off her air a few times, to remind her who was in charge here, and then stepped back.

"Now we get down to it, girl." I stood her up, walked her to my desk with my hand in her hair, and bent her over it. She was naked except for her heels and looked very good in that pose.

I put the vibrator in one hand. "Use it on yourself. You're going to come for me."

"Please-"

I left a handprint on her ass. Whimpering, she brought the vibrator to her slit from underneath, and fucked herself with it, slowly. I chuckled darkly. "Just your clit, sweetheart. And I think you know why."

I fetched a condom, got it dressed, gripped her hips and sank slowly into her quivering body. She was tight and soaked and gorgeous, and her fearful moans just made everything more intense. I fucked her, slow and deep. I hadn't had for a few days and I was going to enjoy coming inside her and making her come with my cock still buried in her.

"Oh fuck," she whispered. "Oh fuck no. No, please don't make me come again, please – pl- pleas- oh fuck it's so intense, you're forcing me-"

"You like coming with a cock in you, slut?"

"I- I've never- please-"

I thrust into her, faster, shifting one hand into her hair and pulling her back.

She thrashed, but I could tell from the whine of the vibrator that she was holding it firmly against herself. I plowed her over and over, and suddenly I knew I had to come.

"Squeeze – down-" I snarled. She did, and I erupted, pounding her faster and then just jetting and jetting inside her. 

"Come," I gasped.

She shook her head. Snarling, I forced her to the floor, and still gasping, used the vibrator on her. She arched helplessly, and sobbed through a brief, violent orgasm.

"That's what I like," I panted. I slipped her shoes off her, and curled her into my lap. She shook.

"Why did I come," she whimpered.

"I wanted you to," I said. "Part of the training."

"I shouldn't – I shouldn't have come – I didn't want to-"

"I didn't give you a choice."

"Why?"

"Deep down, women believe that the men that give them orgasms are men to be respected and desired. It's a dirty little trick of biology."

"You're horrible."

"You're not the first to say it."

"When will you get tired of me?"

"Someday. You're very hot and more sexual than you want to admit. I like the way you squeeze a cock."

"You... you talked about... teams..."

"And you're terrified."

"Yes!"

"Julianne... I make no apology for the fact that I'm using your pretty, pretty body. But it's sex. It's not going to more or less than that. I and my friends are going to fuck you; nobody wants to fuck you up. This is the way the world works – people with power take what they want from those that are weaker. But so far you've had two orgasms. Put the whips and chains out of your mind."

"You've already tied me up."

"Right, ok, put the whips out of your mind."

"Why would I trust you? Look what you just made me do!"

"I made you get off on some protected sex."

"I have a boyfriend!"

"I'm not going to tell hm. Are you?"

She said nothing.

"This is as bad as you make it," I said softly. "For me this is physical. I'm going to teach you fucking as guys see it. It's not love. But it's not brutality either."

"I'm not a guy and I want nothing to do with fucking as guys see it. Girls need sex as girls understand it. As sex, not fucking."

I stared down at her for a moment.

"That's pretty deep, actually."

"Yeah, I'm all deep and shit. No one notices, they're too busy starting at my boobs."

"They are pretty distracting."

"Yeah. High marks in every subject. Two awards for social service. Junior Poet Lauriat for the West Coast region. But I got hired for the boobs, didn't I."

"And legs. And ass. You're good all over actually. And you have a very pretty face."

"Why thank you. You should check out the brain behind it sometime."

"That takes more time, sweetheart. And that's something you have to be willing to share, that's nothing I can just take."

"Heh. That's pretty deep too. But it would mean a little more if you cared if I shared it or not."

I look the blindfold off of her. "Look at me."

I looked into her eyes; she looked into mine.

"You're really eighteen?" I said, after a long moment.

"Eighteen years, three months. And four days. Why?"

"You suddenly looked older."

"Yeah, I'm really thirty. Too old for you."

"Are you trying to insult me?"

"Yes!"

"Careful about that," I said, mildly. "You're not too pretty to fire."

"Lucky me."

"Hm. I'd like to try something." I picked up the vibrator. "I want you to look me in the eyes."

"While you use that thing on me again?"

"Yes."

"And what will that prove?" She looked me in the eyes.

"Not afraid, Miss Julianne? Because I don't see the fear in your eyes I would have expected to. Why?"

"Too angry."

"That's not going to help you."

"Try me."

"I will. Don't look away."

I stared into her eyes; she stared into mine. I ran the vibrator over her clit, turned it on...

Three minutes. Five. The anger slowly faded, replaced by a trace of uncertainty, and then shock; and then the eyes went wide, her head went back, her lips shivered; she licked them, and then they opened wide...

"Look me in the eyes," I said.

She did, and came, slowly, not violently, but over and over...

She collapsed against me. "You know too much," she whispered, shattered.




Why I Love My Job Ch. 01



I toyed with her hair, and then stroked her still-shaking, naked form. 

"You're interesting," I said, softly.



Why I Love My Job Ch. 02



It was a busy day. Well, no. It was a somewhat boring day, pushing through the forms and going over the ongoing litigations. The public ones – most weren't – got Media coverage and sometimes that was a problem, and one of the negotiations I'd gotten into with them was turning into a clusterfuck of competing interests and Government regulations. A Media bitch got a call through to me, and the conversation turned tedious because every question she asked had the same answer, "It is not Company policy to discuss, etc." Then she started asking about the rampant stories of sexuality in the Company. I told her we complied with Government code 163.47.123, and hung up on her. If she looked up 163.47.123, she'd find a long document governing sexual comforts to inmates in Prison. I doubted she'd find the humor in that, but it might turn her on. You never know.

I called Julianne at home at lunchtime. She answered with video, which surprised me a little. Her eyes were red – she'd been crying. She was wearing a fluffy robe, a little threadbare. 

"Mr. Gladgrind. So nice of you to call."

I made a mental note to speak to her about her sarcasm, but I wasn't quite enough of an asshole to raise the point just now. "Pickup is at 20:30, miss Julianne."

"I assume you have my address, since you have my number?"

"Of course. Are you alone?"

"Yes, for once."

"Then I have some questions. Do you own a shelf bra?"

"I don't."

"That's a pity. You'd rock one."

"I have to ask, sir. You tore my last undergarment. Is that going to happen to my clothing tonight as well?"

"No. I understand you can't afford that kind of expense. We'll get you more clothing."

"No need," she said. She'd wanted it to sound acid but she couldn't quite manage it.

"I want to. And I will."

"That's your philosophy on life, isn't it."

"More of a goal, but yeah. What's yours?"

"My goal? To write poetry that brings joy to people."

"I'm not sure I can relate. But any artist needs life experiences to draw on. I'll give you some you can't even imagine."

"Yes sir, about that. This evening... how many people will be there?"

"You, I, and five friends. The number could still go up or down a little."

She went pale. "Five male friends?"

"Yes."

"Please," she said immediately. "You don't understand. I... I've had two boyfriends, ok? One died in the War right after I met him. I didn't spend time with boys for awhile after that. Then I finished school and moved here on a Diversity and Integration grant. I know how those work. I know it's somehow always the pretty girls who get them. I get it, ok? But I came here anyway, all alone. There was a girl here... I was sad and drunk. She got me alone. Everyone experiments once I guess. I decided girls kind of weren't exactly my thing, but that I wanted to date again. And then John, my current... we've just started seeing each other, and then I was working every day and I see him occasionally at night but his living situation is even worse than mine and it's hard to find places to be private. That's everything I've ever done. I know what you think when you see me, but I've had way less... experience... than you think. And I've never been with... more than one person at a time. I'm scared. You don't know how scared. Please sir, don't do this to me. I'm not a child but... what you do... what you're going to do... I can't bear it!"

I wondered if she knew that, instead of making me sympathetic, all she was doing was giving me a hard-on. 

"So the pretty outfits, the make up – the grant paid for those?"

"Yes. The counselors... they told us that first impressions were everything. They suggested kinds of clothing, taught us about makeup, told us what to put on the job application and what to leave out. The grants cover travel, a week of rent, and what's called job preparation. Four outfits, makeup, a class on interviewing and Corporation culture. They told me the Company would certainly hire me and that I wouldn't have to work Services. Services is bad here, even worse where I come from. I always knew I'd end up somewhere bad if the Company didn't take me, I know what can happen to pretty girls who don't get something in Company or Government. I was so happy to get this job, and now..."

"Now you're my slave."

"Yes sir," she said, miserably.

"So let me tell you how it is, miss Julianne. You're not in Services - or back in East Eurasia in the middle of a war. You're with me, and I pick the people who have access to you. They are all successful, all in shape, all well off for their ages. Tonight's group is ages twenty to thirty five. They will be demanding, but nothing like what happens to mouthy girls like you in Services. Some of us could be your ticket up in the Company, some of them I just owe favors to, but none of them are monsters. Yes, you're going to be a very, very dirty girl, but lots of the women in the company sleep with the boss, and don't pretend you didn't know it before you were hired. Hell, you've had fantasies about it; every woman does. I promise you it could be worse. So this evening you're going to be pretty, and pleasant, and accommodating. You want to bring joy to people – this evening will be a start. And to help you adjust to all this... I'm sending an assistant over. She's going to take you shopping, spend some Company funds on you, pretty you up for this evening's party. She understands about your evening, because she's been there. Enjoy your afternoon, miss."

I clicked out. That had been a little harsh but Julianne had to learn her place. She was a little too bright for her own good. On a whim I pulled up her job application and the interviewer's note. The application left out some of her grades, claiming they'd been lost. Yeah, she'd had a good interview coach. The notes attached to her file told the rest of the story. "Fucking hot, naïve and compliant, will do very well." "She'll give good Service here." Ha ha ha. "Eager to please, but asked a lot of questions, that will have to be cured." And here was the note that should have raised the red flag: "Brighter than she looks, easy to miss it because she knows how to wear a tight blouse. Had her slotted for Customer Relations but they have a quota issue. Secretarial for now." Yeah, she'd have been interesting dealing with Government; she'd have ended up sleeping with every Legislator who visited. That's pretty much what Customer Relations did. But instead she'd fallen into my hands; and she was going to pay for that little sarcastic edge of hers. 

I smiled, grimly. Get her all prettied up... and then drag her into a room, strip her, slowly debase her and teach her to be a begging little cum-whore. And if that went well, get her alone with Cheryl. And once she was well and truly broken in, the real fun could start.

+++

"Call Suzie."

The AI didn't bother confirming. The screen lit, Suzie looked up, and instantly blushed. "Mr Gladgrind sir!"

"Open a button, miss Suzie."

She giggled and undid two. "Anything for Morale, sir."

"That's the corporate spirit, babe. You and Peter still getting along?"

"Mmm, yes sir. And I have you to thank. But I miss the old days, from time to time."

Short, blond, curvy. She'd been shy when she gotten here. But she had a fetish for being spanked and... over time... had taken very well to the parties and team building exercises. She'd gotten good at cock sucking. Good, and then willing, and then eager, sucking guy after guy while being pounded from behind. She'd never quite gotten the hang of holding back her orgasms, but we got her into lap dancing, and she'd milk a few guys guys a night, then open her legs and mouth and take what we gave her until she came screaming...

"Daydreaming, sir?"

I smiled. "Just a little. You still do Concierge work?"

"No sir. I was promoted, you know. But I'll run errands for you, you know that. Anything you need..."

"Careful, Peter's the jealous sort at heart."

"Oooh yes. He might punish me!" She giggled.

Perfect employee, I thought. Just... not quite right for me.

"Not for this he won't. I need you to take a new employee out shopping, get her tarted up for this evening."

She grinned. "Latest model, huh? She is... blonde?" She tossed her hair over a shoulder.

I chuckled. "Nope. We believe in diversity here you know."

"You rock the Corporate Vision and Values, sir."

"Right up its ass. Doll her up nice, Suzie. Hot but not slutty. Let her have some class. She's scared out of her mind."

"Not a problem. Which account?"

"Miscellaneous. If you top three thousand credits, pull the rest from Morale's budget."

"They're tapped out sir. I blame guys like you, once you get that blue circle it's all about Morale," she giggled. "But I can use the Training budget, if I give her a little lecture on Cooperation at the same time. And then your get together tonight becomes her training evaluation. Can you file me a report on... how she did? I have a reputation as a Trainer, you know, sir. I hate it when students fail."

"I'll make sure she passes with flying colors. She's gonna be cooperative allll night long."

Suzie licked her lips. "I remember my first time. You were... ruthless, sir. I went home and cried all night... but I was wet all the next week and when I got invited again I was shocked at how much I wanted it..."

"We hire with an eye towards Flexibility. And we try to make every moment a Teachable moment."

"Teach her good and hard, sir. Some of these new girls come in all high and mighty..." her eyes darkened a little. "Do to her everything you did to me."

The guys here were amateurs, I mused. For ruthlessness, learn from a woman.

I tapped a few commands. "You've got her file. She's expecting you. Can you drop her off at the Basement at 20:30? Oh... and get her a shelf bra, and good stockings. No panties. High heels, as tall as she can manage."

"I thought you said classy. I think that means something different to women..."

"Classy. No fishnets, no transparent blouses."

She rolled her eyes. "At least you're easy to shop for. Oh... sir..."

"Yes, miss?"

"Word is you cut some sort of deal with Miss Cheryl."

"Could be. Why?"

"Word is also that the details aren't known but it's being looked into... upstairs."

That hadn't taken long. Had I been hacked or had Cheryl talked? This was going to have to be dealt with.

"Thanks for the heads up, gorgeous. Source?"

"Privileged, sorry sir."

"I understand. Here's a one day's salary bonus for being a good girl and looking out for fellow employees."

She giggled, and then opened another button. "Sir, I was wondering... does your party have room for me and Peter? I mean he probably wouldn't share me, but... he likes to make me watch what happens to other girls..."

"Hm... no. It's her first time and she'll be under enough stress as it is. I need to keep it small. Sorry, though. There will be future parties."

She ran a fingertip, slowly, over the curve of her breast. "If you say so, sir..."

I chuckled. "Get to work, slut. You have shopping to do."

"Yes sir!"

I clicked out, smiling. She was such a sweet little thing; she brightened a day. I hadn't kept her, because...

Well, because as fun as she was, she just hadn't held my interest very long. I wasn't sure why. Peter had bargained for her, I'd agreed. End of story.

She still had her uses, though. Her tipoff was useful, and I was genuinely thankful she'd taken on the task of working Julianne through the afternoon and dropping her off this evening. 

+++

"Eric!" I high fived him as I stepped out of the elevator. "Been a few weeks. How did the negotiations go with Media?"

"Hey, Scott. Not so bad. I mean let's face it, it's a rigged game, but we get our fair cut. Any shit going down in Litigation?"

"Very little, same old. Government tries to screw us on the contract minutia; we screw them back in late fees when they get into budget delays. Everyone gets to claim they saved their side a mint, so everyone's a hero. It's fucking awesome. I can hear Greg and Tom from here. Bill? James?"

"Bill bailed. Some shit going down with upper management and he has to spin it for tomorrow's press release. James is delayed but on the way. His wife caught him on the way out."

I shook my head. "Marriage, right? Seriously, what's in it for the guy..."

"I hear you. So tell me about the entertainment."

"Let's settle in first."

I swiped my hand over the chipreader and went through the door with Eric. Tom and Greg already had the big screen on and were watching the game. I didn't have the heart to tell them I knew that Media had already bought the outcome on this one, and Tom's bet was already as good as dead. It wasn't all that uncommon; Media managed the teams so they all had a shot of getting to the finals. Some years almost a third of the games had bought outcomes. It was simple business sense; if your team is out of the running early you stop watching, and the advertising loss added up fast. 

"Hey, Scott. I see you found Eric. I thought he got lost in the hallway," Tom laughed.

"Just making sure the video was set up," Eric said. 

"So," Greg said. From the little smile on his face I wondered if he already knew he'd won his bet, the bastard. "The entertainment? Tell us the juicy details."

"She's on her way. She's well and truly caught and has no idea what her legal rights are, and she's all mine. This is her first time down here and she's got very little history with guys so she's scared shitless. About 5' 6", gorgeous tits and ass, a pretty face – hell, you've all seen the file, right? So this is a break-in session – take what you need but don't get too exotic on her. You all saw how she reacted to being fingered on camera."

"She ever been drugged?"

"Doesn't sound like it. She doesn't know that's coming, and we're keeping it that way. You brought straight Madrigal, right? No Black X?"

Tom pulled out a vial from his pocket. "I just pulled off the shelf." He read the label. "'White Night.'"

"Ok, so that's almost pure Mad, with some Vi and Ice. That'll do."

"Heh, that fucking stuff built the company." Greg laughed.

"That's not the official history," Tom said, reprovingly.

"Fuck the official history. I mean yeah, the Total Employment Act and the Investor Rebellion got it founded, but this was the product that let us take over the world."

"And now it's illegal," I said.

"Thank fucking hell," Greg. "The price went ten times higher overnight, and no taxes. Best gift the Government ever gave us. They looked like heroes, all ethical and shit, protecting the masses. We made mint. Everyone won."

"Ok, so a third of a dose in her drink. I want her to think her behavior is her own fault."

"Aww. She'd be more fun on a full dose."

"Yeah and tomorrow she'd freak out so bad she might get stupid and try the Police or something. C'mon, you know how we do this. So play it straight."

There was a soft bell. "That's James," Greg said, looking at the elevator video feed. "He looks a little pissed."

"My heart, she bleeds," I said.

James sauntered in and we did the guy hello thing – nods and grunts. I never understood why hello and goodbye was a novella for females. 

"You want in on this bet?" Tom said "Slashers by five or more?"

James laughed. "Tom, you idiot. The fix is in on this one."

"Aw, fuck you, James," Greg said. "I had him for one hundred credits. Way to screw the play."

"You assholes," Tom said. "You all got Media connections?"

"You really gotta learn," I told Tom. "Don't bet at all until the playoffs. Anything before that can be rigged. If you have to bet on an early game, you go for the underdogs. And it's not hard to tell, you know? Avoid the games where the bookies give strange spreads. Those guys always know."

"It was better when games were straight."

""Media's not a charity,'" quoted Eric. We all grinned because that was a generic statement for everything except Government. Our exalted CEO, all honor to him, whoever he was – at our level we weren't permitted to know – was said to make that claim all the time, in every meeting, to every proposal. 'The Company is not a charity. Show me guaranteed profit or leave the fucking table. We are not a charity.'"

"She'll be here soon," I said, looking at my phone. "Mix up the drinks. Go light on the rum in mine."

"Is she coming here by herself?" James asked.

"Miss Suzie is escorting her in. Remember Suzie?"

"Hell yeah. Is she going to stay too?"

"Not this time. You want that, you negotiate with Peter. He takes her seriously."

"Never catch me making that mistake," Greg said. "Taking any girl seriously. Hell, taking anyone seriously, unless they have my paycheck in their hand."

"Noted," Tom, said sourly.

"Winners and losers, dude," Greg said. "Fucking winners and fucked losers, that's all the world is. Anyone who says otherwise is feeding you shit and lifting your wallet. Someone's fucking and someone's getting fucked, in every conversation. You'll learn."

The bell rang again. Greg looked at the screen. "Whoa. Nice."

"Mix the drinks," I said again. Eric tended to that, and I headed through the door.

They were heading down the corridor. Julianne's eyes were all over the place. Suzie smiled at me. I smiled back, but focused on Julianne. 

"Well, hello, Miss Julianne. You look good. And hello again Miss Suzie."

"Hello, sir," they said in unison. Julianne's voice was uneven. Suzie's was seductive.

Julianne was in a red pencil miniskirt, bare midriff and tight black silk top with her nipples already noticeable. The heels were five inches at least. She wore stockings, a little darker than nude. The makeup had been done professionally. Under that, her skin was Embarrassed As Hell Pink, and she was looking down.

Suzie had dressed herself as well – a black cocktail dress with a zipper that spiraled down her body, begging to be pulled. The cloth over her breasts was translucent and she had a shelf bra on as well. Her nipples were hard, and she licked her lips, looking at me. 

I opened the door. "Miss Julianne, you may join us." May... and must, I thought.

She nodded unsteadily, and swayed into the room. High heels worked on her, and she looked very good in them from behind.

"Mr Gladgrind, sir," Suzie said, very quietly. "A word, before you go back in..."

I closed the door and looked at her. It wasn't hard to see where this was going.

"Look I'll just say it, ok? I want in tonight. Peter's called into some emergency meeting and he's not going to know. I mean he's good to me but he's not into... sharing, you know? What you do in that room... it's so fucking addictive. Guys, touching you, holding you down, making you... it gets into your dreams."

She met my eyes, and began pulling on her zipper, slowly. The dress parted over her breasts. "You can have it all tonight, Mr. Gladgrind. Two girls flying on White, begging for your cock. Fuck me, then her, then me again. Make us compete to get you to come...."

She stepped in close, breasts bared now, and pressed her hand over my cock, through the suit pants. "I know what this cock can do," she whispered. "It's had my pussy, my mouth, my ass, my tits. I made sure you loved it all." She rubbed me up and down. "Let me show that ignorant little bitch how a woman who knows what she's doing, pleases men. You're already rock hard." Her thumb worked against my frenum and her fingertips worked my balls, slowly. "I remember the first time, when you forced this beast into me, I was shaking and begging you not to, I was crying... they held me down, worked me with their hands while you fucked me good and hard. You made me come, over and over, with their hands and teeth and tongues all over me... dressing her up to be your fucktoy got to me. Take me in, tie me up, paint my nipples with Black X, watch me get lost in rape fantasies and beg you to treat me like the hot, needy, fucking slut trash I am-"




Why I Love My Job Ch. 02



She went up on tiptoes and licked my lips, lightly and slowly. Her hand moved faster.

She had me stone hard and she could be very fucking persuasive. This was why Peter liked her – she knew how to plead. But I'd already told her the rules tonight.

I put one hand in her hair, and tilted her head back. My other hand slapped across her face, then her breasts.

"You were already told no, slut. You make a hot offer but I make the rules here and Julianne is going to be broken in properly tonight, which means she's the only girl in that room. And Peter and I deal honestly, so if you want what you want you're going to have to clear it with him. I'd love to rape you silly but it will not be on the side. Now get out of here before you make trouble for yourself." I pushed her off, and stepped back.

"Yes sir," she whispered, shaking. "Thank you sir."

She fled. I went in.

+++

Julianne already had her drink in her hand. I picked up mine and sniffed it. Rum and coke, and from the tickle in my nose, not much rum. I took a sip. White Night doesn't do all that much to men – the Ice is an amphetamine variant and keeps you alert; the Vi keeps the erections going; and Mad, in a guy's system, gives a minor boost to ego and skin sensitivity, but not a lot else. In a woman's body, Ice and Vi made it easier to orgasm, but Mad flipped their fucking on switch and made sex seem like the greatest idea ever. Julianne was sipping her drink quickly and nervously, probably hoping it would have a calming effect. It would – briefly.

The guys were being ok – talking to her, keeping it light, complimenting her on her looks. At this point it wouldn't matter that much if she freaked and ran for the door, because it wouldn't open for her. But nobody wanted a scene.

I watched her. She was frightened, but making an effort to be social. It helped that the room didn't look like a BDSM palace. It was a high end business meeting room, but with better couches, a small bar and kitchenette, a few tables for poker and a pool table. The art on the wall was all very sexualized and not very subtle, but other than that there was nothing much to raise an eyebrow. A curtained doorway led to a room that would have scared Julianne shitless if she looked in, but the curtain was drawn. The unisex bathroom completed the suite. 

I settled her on the couch, sitting beside her. Greg got on the other side of her. Instantly she was visibly on edge again. It was hard to blame her. She was in an outfit that would have embarrassed the term bodycon, with no panties and a bra that just held her up and forced the nipples against the sheer cloth of the skin tight blouse. She was surrounded by guys in suits, she was dressed like the toy she was, and she knew exactly what she was here for. Most importantly, she was cut off from the support of other women. Her eyes moved fixedly to the screen, where the game was playing. I doubted she cared about the game.

I thumbed the lights. I could feel her sudden shivering. I smiled and ran a fingertip, very lightly, over her exposed thigh.

"As of now," I said to her, "There are five people in the room who can do what they want. You're not one of them. You are here to be enjoyed. You're going to be a good girl for us."

She nodded, unsteadily, eyes still fixed on the screen. I looked her over, slowly. Her nipples were already hardening, her lips were parted. That wasn't the drug, I knew. Suzie had spent a lot of time and money on her, and there are women who find being dolled up for sex hot. It didn't matter that she didn't want to be here. Anger, fear and shame didn't change a thing. She was here for sex, she was a virtual prisoner of men with hard dicks and no consciences – and her body responded.

I ran my hand over her thigh again, slowly, then Greg did the same to her other thigh. She swallowed, and sipped her drink again. She'd already finished a lot of it, in her nervousness. The drugs wouldn't hit fast, but the alcohol was already at work; her pupils were constricted. When the Ice got going, they'd dilate.

James lent over the back of the sofa, and ran a hand over her hair, lightly. "Pretty little thing," he murmured. "I like the way your breasts curve. They invite a man's hands." He reached down and began to unbutton the blouse. "Don't get wrapped in overthinking this, girl. Just feel the fingertips." 

He opened the blouse, and his fingertips traced over her bare breasts. She shrank into the sofa, but his fingered followed, and traced across her breasts again, moving from the inside out, and then back again. "Fingertips feel good," he said softly. "Mouths are better. Sucked and nibbled and bitten. Imagine it."

Tom quietly clicked off the game, and brought up a different video. I recognized it. It was a recording of a nightclub in in the Caribbean, quite a number of years ago, when Madrigal was still a secret and the first large scale experiments began. It had been a hot club to begin with, but a dose of Madrigal was added to the free drink served at 21:00, without telling anyone there. The video started at 20:59 and ended at 22:00. Julianne didn't know any of that; she just saw a nightclub scene with a lot of rich guys and hot women, talking, dancing, doing a little harmless grinding. She stared, avidly, trying not to think about was happening to her.

I opened her blouse the rest of the way, smiling at how the shelf bra showcased her and made her very hard nipples prominent. James cupped both her breasts, catching her nipples between his fingers, and squeezed down, slowly. Her eyes fluttered closed, and then opened and stared at the screen again.

Her eyes were dilating. 

Greg and I slowly parted her legs, and we stroked the inside of her thighs. The hand holding her drink trembled; I took it from her and held it to her lips, making her finish it all. Then I brushed her hair back and nibbled, very gently, on her earlobe. Greg very slowly slid her skirt up her thigh.

Eric settled on the floor in front of her and began to stroke the calves, and lightly pet the backs of her knees. She gave a tiny whimper and tried to close her legs, but we didn't allow her to. She whimpered again, licking her lips.

Eric unzipped and took out his cock. She glanced down, and her eyes went right back to the screen, fixedly. But after a minute they drifted back down again. He was stroking it, slowly. It was harder for her to tear her eyes away the second time. She was shivering now, her legs shifting under the massage of her thighs. My thumb brushed across her slit, just once. Then Greg did the same.

The scene in the video began to change. Women got... friendlier, and did more kissing. Then more grinding. Suddenly one of them turned her back against her partner, raised her arms up and back around his head, and ground her ass against his cock. She moaned, and his hands came up over her bikini covered breasts. Then another couple did the same. 

Julianne stared at them, fascinated.

I'd watched the video several times before, as part of product training. Everyone in the club had been given a full dose. Back in those days the interaction with alcohol and sugar hadn't been worked out, and the drug took a few minutes to really hit. One guy there figured out pretty fast how horny his date suddenly was, and removed her bikini top, whispering something in her ear and massaging her breasts. She got a lot of attention from other men – and other girls began removing their own tops, or had them pulled off by their dates. The scene was slightly surreal, like an unlikely porn video, but this was real footage. Julianne suddenly didn't know where to look.

James pulled her nipples, and then twisted them back and forth. She arched her back, and her head fell back and she closed her eyes. My thumb settled over her clit, and Greg's finger traced up and down her slit, not quite penetrating. She panted, softly.

"Fucktoy," I whispered into her ear, softly. 

She moaned. "No... I'm a good girl..."

I kept up the slow, steady movement on her clit, my hand hidden, only barely, by her skirt. "No," I whispered. "Good girls don't come down here. You're a fucktoy. Your body was made to take cock after cock, and to please them all. We dressed you like this and brought you down here because we know what you are. You're a hot, wet, fuckable slut."

She tried to close her legs again. Greg, Eric and I put a stop to that, and opened her legs wide instead, trapping her legs with our own. The vulnerability got to her; her breathing became very uneven. She stared down at Eric's cock again. The rest of us unzipped and took ours out as well. I enjoyed watching her face, seeing what the sound of all those zippers did to her. She raised her eyes to the screen again, her gaze unsteady, stunned, but unquestionably aroused and unable to hide it.

"We've all seen you come, slut," Greg whispered in her other ear. 'Do you remember what I was whispering in your ear when you were on camera? Come slut come. Come slut come. Over and over. And you couldn't help coming, could you. Because sluts never can."

She shuddered. I guessed the Mad had started to kick in.

The video had gotten to the tipping point. At one edge of the screen, one of the guys had figured out his date was out of control, and he tipped her over a table and forced a finger into her from behind. She gave an animalistic moan and whimpered something in Caribbean French... and another guy walked up, took it out, and slapped her face with it, over and over, until suddenly she was sucking. Her date laughed darkly, took his cock out and pushed into her from behind...

Julianne gave a little sob of need, her eyes fluttering closed. 

Tom came up to the couch with a vibrator in his hand. "She's ready. Stretch her out."

We chuckled and each took a limb, and immobilized her, with her ass on the edge of the couch, her feet pinned to the floor and her wrists trapped against the top of the couch. Tom removed her skirt, positioned the vibrator, and turned it to low. She stared down in horror.

She thrashed, trying to get away, but we each had an extra hand to use on her, and her thighs and breasts were gripped hard. The vibrator caressed, slowly.

It wasn't long before her head tossed, to one side, and then the other. Her pants turned to gasps.

"We have so many games we can play with you, miss Julianne. This is only the beginning. They get more and more intense, until you beg to be fucked. Don't assume you get to say 'yes sir please'. We know what a hot little plaything you are, how your pussy already aches for cock. You're going to writhe in shame as you beg with every begging, degrading word you know, for cock after cock. We might even let you come for us... if you beg just right."

The video turned into an orgy, and the moaning and gasping fucked with Julianne's head. I laughed, soft and deep, and began to kiss and suck her nipple, roughly. Greg nibbled the other one, keeping up the soft litany of slut and cum-whore between nips. I played my fingertips across her belly, then scratched with fingernails. 

Tom slid the vibrator lower, pressed it inside her briefly, and returned it to her clit. Eric ran his fingertips under his arm and along her sides... and then very suddenly took her by the hair and pulled her head back over the back of the couch, and brushed his cock across her lips.

"Beg to suck him." I said.

"No-" she gasped. "No- please no-"

Tom turned the vibrator up, just a notch, and slid it into her again, then back to her clit, then in again, working it slowly. Then he bent over her and ran his tongue over her clit...

"Fuck please stop, please! Fuck please! Please it's too much!-"

Fingers and tongues worked her helpless body, and suddenly she could no longer fight what she felt. Her mouth fell open and her lips shivered against Eric's cock. I could see her desperately trying not to lick it. I twisted her nipples, slowly.

"Serve us," I said.

"No- no – please don't make me want this- please stop! Oh fuck, please please stop!-"

I saw Tom wet his fingertip and press it gently against her anus. Sobbing and convulsing, she licked Eric's cock.

He slapped her with it and held it above her mouth, just out of reach. "Beg."

Her head tossed from side to side again as I flicked her nipples, over and over, fast. Then Eric tightened his grip on her hair and rubbed his cock against her lips, then held it above her mouth again. She stared at it, helplessly.

"Beg," I said. Greg and Tom echoed the command. Tom turned the vibrator up, held it against her clit, pushed a finger into her slit and curled it slowly...

"Please!" she whimpered. "Please let me- let me have it- let me"

"Let you what," I hissed, slapping her nipples quickly and lightly.

"PLEASE! LET ME SUCK COCK!"

Eric turned her head to the side and fucked her mouth. I gave him credit for not being brutal, he went slowly. I rewarded Julianne with a slow, teasing nipple-suck, and slow caressing of her lower belly. I could feel the tendons there starting to tighten, over and over. 

Tom took the toys away, slid a condom on, and pressed his cock along her slit. Not entering. She'd need to beg for that. He shifted until the head of his cock was over her clit and begin to rub himself against her, masturbating them both. 

Tom may not have understood sports bets and he kind of sucked at poker, but at edge play he was fucking Picasso. He knew to the second when to stop, and on her third edging she was sobbing and shuddering. Eric pulled out of her mouth and just let it drip on her and she thrashed, incoherently. Tom started to edge her again...

"Please fuck please let me come!"

"Selfish slut," I snapped at her. "You need to take a lot of cock for that to happen."

Eric tracked his cock around her lips, lightly, and it was so fucking hot watching her lips shudder.

"Please take me!" she sobbed.

"Not good enough," I snapped, squeezing her breasts. "You're a cum-loving fucking slut and you don't ask like a classy lady. You will fucking beg like the greedy little fucktoy we all know you are!" 

"Fuck me," she sobbed. "Fuck me. Use me, over and over, Fuck me, I'm a – please just fuck me!"

"You're a what?" I snarled. 

"I'm a – I'm- I'm a slut! Fuck your slut! Fuck please I want cock so bad! I want all your cocks! Fuck me like a slut and make me come!"

Tom plowed her, fast and ruthlessly. James repositioned, pushed just the head of his cock into her desperate mouth, and stroked himself, watching her closely... "You'll swallow every drop babe, don't fuck this up, I want to see you swallow it all..."

It didn't take him long, but then she was the perfect visual and her sounds were pure animal need. He gushed into her and she swallowed frantically, half choking, then sucking him clean. Then she started to arch-

"You fucking bitch - you do not ruin my fun with your orgasm," Tom snarled, pulling out. "Work my cock and get me off!" He slammed back into her and she sobbed over and over, squeezing down again and again. He snarled again, grabbing her legs and thrust inside her, watching her try to suck as she shuddered... and poured out inside her, gasping and snarling.

"My fucking turn," Greg growled, practically pushing Tom aside. He didn't bother with a condom, probably because he knew she'd had her anti-fertility shots and wasn't too worked about legal proceedings. He pushed in. He was very large, and she convulsed in shock. I watched Greg carefully – he had a little bit of a cruel streak. 

He picked up the vibrator.

"I'm no edge play master," he said. "So I'm just gonna leave it where it will make you go insane. And you better not come."

She tossed, tensing over and over, fighting it and whimpering "Fuck me... fuck me... please I want to come so badly, oh please!" until he poured into her. She almost came with him, but he left her a swift handprint on her ass to put a stop to that.

"Miss slutty secretary is mine next," said James. "Let her go. She needs to crawl for cock now. Crawl, Julieslut. I want to feel your pretty little mouth do something other than whinge about your needs."

She was too overwhelmed not to obey. She tried to suck him off but she didn't know much about it, and in the end he told her to hold her breasts together, and fucked them, splattering her face with cum as she stared and whimpered. He pushed her off, and immediately I dragged her across the floor by the ankle to me.

"You finally get to come," I told her. "Do whatever it takes to get off with my cock in you."

I pushed her onto her back and took what I wanted. Her hand snaked down between us and she rubbed her clit, and it wasn't long before she was arching helplessly, she came twice, and by then I didn't have a choice, so I came, some in her and some all over her.

She lay there, shaking. I growled something sympathetic, and got up to get a drink.

"Eric." I said at the bar, in a low voice. "Didn't I tell you to give her a low dose?"

"Yeah, but listen, there-"

"You trying to get us in trouble?"

"What? Scott, listen. You kind of didn't give me time to set the drinks up. Everyone got a dose... except her."

"Wait... what?"

"Yeah. She didn't get any. That was all her."

"I saw her eyes dilate!"

"When we started touching her? There's more than Ice that opens eyes wide, you know?"

I turned to look at her, still shaking on the floor from her orgasms. "Well... hello," I said, softly.

+++

Being guys, there was really only one thing for us to do after orgasms like that. I broke out the poker cards. James had to bail, but a four person game is good fun. I eyed Julianne as she put her clothing back on.

"Miss Julianne... do you play?"

Tom killed the sound on the video – no one wanted to play poker to the sound of moaning, begging females. 

Julianne just stared at me. "Cards?"

"Poker."

She was clearly having some trouble making the transition from crawling on the floor for a fucking, to games of high-stakes risk and negotiation. To me it sounded like a typical day at the Company, except the fuckings were more symbolic and rarely ended in orgasm for the victim. 

"So I'm one of the boys now?"

Greg looked her over. "You're the prettiest boy I've ever met, if you are. Do you play or not?"

"Yes," she said. We all did double-takes.

"This isn't five card draw, twos and aces wild and playing for hair bands," Greg said. "We play Holdem."

She snatched the deck out of my hand. "Holdem it is, nothing wild. Being gentleman you'll have to spot me, or put a value on my kisses."

Tom and Eric looked at me, stunned. Greg's eyes narrowed. I just stared at her.

"Alright," I said, slowly. "I know you're broke, but I offered to let you play, so I'm honor bound to let you in, and I'll loan you a starter. But you have to realize, not all the bets at this table are monetary. We sometimes bet favors or information about work. You don't have those sorts of resources."

"I think," she said icily, "that you already showed me I have things you badly want."

Tom was still staring. "You fucking mouthy bitch. We don't have to bargain for those."

"Hey," I snapped. "You're the one being a bitch, Tom. She just took a screwing and I don't see any tears from her. That earns her a little fucking respect in my book. And the way you play cards, maybe you better hold your comments until we see if she's better than you. And not to put too fine a point on it, but she's mine, not yours, unless you can take her away from me. You don't get to assume her assets are yours whenever you want them."

"I say we do this," Greg said. "We'll have to be creative with the betting but I want to see what she's got."

Eric laughed. "I think we know that."

"I don't think we do," I said. "So I'm in and I'll spot you 500 credits, miss Julianne. Don't lose. You can't afford to be any deeper in my debt."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 02



"What's the betting structure, sir?"

She knew enough to ask up front. I smiled. We played house rules on betting – ante is 10, initial bet is limited to 20 to 100, raises must be at least 50 and the total bet to anyone couldn't go over 1000. It wasn't standard for Holdem, but we liked the fact that everyone could start signaling after seeing just two cards. Sometimes you got a pair, or two high cards of a suit and a good feeling, and the initial bets and bluffs could be interesting. 

When the showdown was between two people who were well up – and sometimes Greg and I were in that situation – we'd relax the limit to 5000. Greg once nailed me with a queen kicker for 5000.

But given she was poor and didn't have the resources to the other kind of bets we made, we were going to have to scale that back a little. 

"Given that you're new here... let's limit the betting. Ante is 10, initial bet is 20 to 50, raises have to be at least 20, and no total goes over 200 unless everyone involved agrees to stay for the showdown, and then it's table stakes." 

She nodded, sat at table and shuffled. 

That was when I knew the night was about to get more interesting. She riffled the cards like a fucking pro.



Why I Love My Job Ch. 03



I'm not going to give a play by play. I could – the cameras caught the whole thing. But it's too much to relate.

I'm a pretty decent player. Tom's an idiot; he thinks he can read people, and can't. Greg is quite good and for him every hand, every play, is personal - which makes sense, since every breath he takes is a competition for oxygen with everything else on the planet. Eric is unpredictable but he makes that work for him, and he does ok. Julianne, of course, was a total unknown, and at eighteen it wasn't obvious she'd know what beat what. But right from the opening shuffle it was clear that she'd done this before. I reminded myself that a couple years running, the world champion had been as young as twenty. 

With females getting screwed left and right on the huge screen – and none of the guys paying it any attention, because we'd all seen it lots of times before – we gathered around the table, fully dressed and poker faced. This was the second time in my years here there had been a girl at this table, and the last time the girl had been playing for the right to keep her virginity. That had been a hot night; the cards had been nice to her, right up until they weren't.

Julianne pushed her first hand away as soon as the bet went to her, which is an early fold in Holdem but meant she knew a very bad start when she saw one. She was going to be a tight, conservative player, I decided. On the next hand we all stayed in. I watched her.

The flop put a 3 of spades, an 8 of diamonds and an 8 of spades on display. She chewed on a strand of hair and she considered, then placed the max bet. I guessed she had an eight. Eric folded, Greg called. The Turn card came down, and now the board had three spades, 10 high. 

I bailed – there might be flushes out there and I didn't have spades or anything even warm. I took the time to study her. 

She chewed her hair again, and I leaned back. She wasn't as clever as she thought, I decided. But suddenly she did the max bet again. Down came the river card... and it was the 6 of spades. Greg smiled. 

For beginners, Holdem is a misleading game. Everyone shares the board cards, so when they are good, your hand looks good. The problem is, everyone's hands might be good, too, and the art and science is working out the odds that your hand is just a little bit better. There were four spades sitting on the board, and with everyone holding two private cards in front of them, the odds were outstanding someone had another spade, and a flush. The problem was the odds were also good that two people had spades in their cards, and then it was likely to come down to who had the highest spade. 

She looked nervous, but she took the bet to the limit. Greg raised her, and she called.

Greg flipped up his king high flush.

Julianne flipped up the two eights in her pocket cards. She'd had four of a kind right from the flop and her hair chewing and hesitation had been pure act. None of us were going to fall for that again, but she'd manage to sting Greg and that put a grin on my face. She'd been lucky to get such hot cards right off, but she'd handled her luck right.

She bowed out at Turn on the next hand. Eric displayed three jacks and got a nice little pile of chips from me and Tom. 

"So you count Outs?" I asked her, conversationally.

"Sir, what are Outs?" she said, with wide, innocent eyes. Greg snorted.

"Holy shit," Tom muttered. "I don't recall seeing Poker Pro in her file."

"It was a very incomplete file... Where did you learn, sweetheart," I asked.

"My father, sir. And then, playing soldiers in town, after school." She smiled, coolly. "Every day since I was nine, sir."

"And you still had time to rock your courses," I said. "I chased down your grades, the ones missing from your files. Usually the missing ones are fails. Yours weren't."

"And she's a fucking secretary?" Greg said.

"The fucking part only happened today, sir," she said, coldly.

I shrugged. "We got gamed," I said. "Whoever advised her knows our hiring policies inside out. And our quotas. They knew the brain positions were going to go to an ethnic group other than hers, so she got positioned this way instead, and it worked."

"You knew she was a card shark when you pulled the deck out," Tom said to me. I didn't like his attitude this evening, I decided. He wasn't coping well with having a girl at the table who might be better than he was.

"On my honor I didn't," I said. "But I knew she was smart and when I she her shuffle I knew your ass was in the trash."

That got chuckles from Eric and Greg.

"You walked in here terrified," I said to her. "Now you're made of ice. Explain that."

"You all scare me shitless, sir. But these," she tapped the deck, "don't scare me at all. I'm much, much safer at this table than I was on that couch."

"And you're playing for your freedom," I said. "If you can make rent money tonight, you can hold me off for another month."

"Yes sir."

"Game over," said Tom. "This isn't how it's supposed to go. She fucked up, she pays with her pussy. That's how it works around here."

"No," Greg said. "Game fucking on. She knows her game, but she was lucky on her first hand in, very lucky. If she can play her way out of Scott's clutches, then good for her – but I'm guessing she's on min wages, and making up rent money isn't going to be easy even if she's good. And one bad run and she's naked and back on that couch. She's acting cool, aren't you girl, but she knows her odds, and it scares her."

She was carefully expressionless, but I knew Greg had nailed it.

"Alright," I said. "With the discovery that she's probably better than all of us, I think we need a little rules modification. We'll play our usual bets, 10, 20 to 100, raises of 50, max bet is table stakes. And you, Miss Julianne, will lose an article of clothing, chosen by me, every time you lose a showdown."

"How does that help you, sir?" she said. "You've seen it all."

"You're ice cold when you have clothing on," I told her. "We'll see if you still focus well with everyone looking at your large, sensitive nipples."

"Sir, can I make a statement, free from retaliation and punishment?"

"You want permission to speak freely? Go for it, baby, just this once."

"You are the worst fucking bastard in the world and I hope you choke on a rotting cock and die."

Eric smirked.

"I can tell you really did spend some time around soldiers," I said, mildly. "And you're right, I am – in fact, I lied about the lack of punishment. You're smart, but not so wise... Do you still want to play? You are up pretty good; you might want to cash out now."

"Not enough to make rent. Game on," she said.

"Eric, mix up some drinks. And... do it right this time, ok? Less alcohol this time."

"No alcohol in mine," Julianne said.

Eric met my eyes, and nodded. I might have been tempted to play fair, but "choke on a cock and die" was going too far.

+++

New drinks in hand, we settled down to the game. On the next hand, Julianne lost a notable pile because she had two shots to complete a straight, and missed. I couldn't be sure that's how it went down, but from the betting it was a good guess she had the 10 and Jack to the board's 9 and 8, and really wanted a 7 or a queen to show up. I had a queen and a seven in my hand so the odds there were probably not all she hoped, but I couldn't fault her betting.

On the hand after that, she just got unlucky and her three nines lost to mine because I had the ace kicker to her queen. Her blouse came off., which put her nipples on display. And she was below 500 now, which put her in debt to me.

She won the next hand, but it only put her up a little. She reached for the blouse, but I just laughed. "That wasn't part of the deal, Miss." 

Her face went expressionless. She wanted to beat me now, very badly.

She lost the one after, again for small stakes but it cost her the shoes, and I deliberately toyed with her by making her extend each leg so I could slip the shoe off. Displaying her legs to a bunch of guys reminded her that this room wasn't all about poker.

She folded early on the next three, and then caught a straight with the ruling queen in her pocket, which got her above 500 again and tore a nice hole in Tom's pile of chips. Why Tom thought she'd been bluffing I didn't know. She hadn't yet, and if she was going to it probably wouldn't be on something as vainglorious as an inside straight.

She folded the next five hands, while the rest of us tooled around with some bluffs and some unimpressive hands – at one point I won with a lowly pair of queens, then I lost on a couple failed flushes, then gained some ground back with a risky trip fives that I bet like a full house. Then Eric managed a ten high straight, which clobbered my three tens.

I looked her over, slowly. Her nipples were hardening. I looked at her eyes... they were dilated. 

This time the drink had been done to spec. 

On the next hand I got a pair of aces down, the best fucking pocket cards possible. I'd lost with them before, but not so often. When the bet came to me I hesitated for a fraction of a second before I called. If she was going to chew her hair, she could see how an expert spoofed.

The flop had king, jack and seven, all of different suits. Greg bailed, probably because my little hesitation hadn't fooled him at all; Eric and Tom went in with small bets, but Julianne went to max bet. Which meant she was bluffing... or had a queen and a ten in her pocket. 

Maybe she a thing for straights. I looked at her. She was staring at the screen, visibly distracted by what was happening there. As I watched, she recrossed her legs, putting her stockinged foot near me. I don't have a thing for feet, but hers were attached to those long, well-shaped legs. She licked her lips, absentmindedly. 

I called. So did Eric. Tom folded for once.

The turn card was a nine. She looked at it, immediately looked at the screen, and snapped "Can we turn that off?"

Her nipples were very hard.

Now I had to think. The flash of temper – and the movement of her leg – could have been distractions, intended to make me think about something other than her potential straight. Or she could have been struggling with unexpected arousal and an unexciting pair of jacks, making her legitimately peevish. I just couldn't tell. The arousal wasn't faked, but how much of it was the drug and how much of it was being fed by a hot set of cards and a hope of freedom as an open question. 

"The video can stay on. But about the bet, Julianne. Do you want to buy some insurance?"

"This isn't blackjack, sir."

"Sure. But side bets happen. You bring those hard, pretty nipples to my mouth for a full minute, while you stare at the screen... and I'll cover your losses over hundred credits, and no limit on this hand."

"I could already have the nuts, sir. Why would I need insurance?"

"Don't play stupid. If you have them, or can make your bluff work, you go all in and make mint. If you don't, the insurance covers your ass nicely."

"And what's in it for you? We both know you can suck on me all day long."

Her hands were a little restless now. She shifted again, eyes flicking back to the screen, then back to me. Madrigal is not a drug that futzes around. 

"If you lose... you move in with me."

"Not happening, sir." She hesitated. "Not unless, if I win... you add ten thousand to my take."

Tom said something even I wouldn't repeat. Greg's eyes were nearly glowing with fascination. Eric appeared to be quietly doing math in his head.

"No. Five, and you take everything off now."

"No. Seven."

"Six, and I won't just be sucking your nipples."

"Done," she said. The bizarre thing was, even with all that bartering I still didn't know if she had the cards. If she did, she was free of me and the guys would me rubbing this in my face for years. But I knew one thing she didn't – there was a trace of Ice in her system, and Mad, and both of them tended to make a person feel powerful and immune from harm. She might have just felt shiny and lucky. And she might have been assuming my little hesitation at the start actually meant something. 

And in a very real sense she had little to lose. She was already my slave. Maybe she was just this desperate.

She stood up, and slowly peeled the stockings off, and then, the bra, which covered nothing anyway; and with some hesitation, she removed the skirt. She was visibly aroused, and blushed pink as four pairs of eyes looked her over. We were all hungry again, and she knew it. But she stepped over to me, fixed her eyes on the screen, and pressed her nipple to my lips. 

I sucked it, gently at first, then firmly. My fingertips traced her ass, very, very lightly, and then the insides of her thighs. 

Madrigal doesn't leave a girl an off switch. She was panting, then shivering. I switched to the other nipple, licked it until it was throbbing and rigid... and then bit down, gently. 

She whimpered, and then whispered... "fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck... "

My fingertip slid along her slit, slowly. Her legs trembled instantly, and then, after a long and shuddery pause, her hips tilted up, very slowly and invitingly... I pressed the finger in, just a little, and moved it up and down. That got more and faster whimpering. My tongue lashed her nipple. Her whimpers got higher in pitch. 

I pressed my finger in further, tormenting her with faster movements and rougher sucking. I let my thumb brush her clit; she didn't jerk back. My other hand caressed her ass, a fingertip moving suggestively close to her asshole, ticking lightly...

"Time," Eric said. 

She staggered backwards and sat down in her chair, panting, pink, and still staring at the screen. Her eyes and nipples were huge. She could not sit still and her hands moved restlessly.

"Shall we play cards?" Greg said. He burned the top card... paused, cruelly... and flipped the next one onto the board.

It was an Ace.

Julianne licked her lips, and went all in. Everyone else folded. I matched her bet... and flipped up my two aces. Either she had the queen and ten, or her ass was mine.

She stared at them. And then with shaking hands she flipped up two kings. She'd semibluffed – and lost.

I pulled the chips my way, taking only a hundred of hers... and then stood up, took her by the hair, and bent her back over the table. Chips and drinks spilled everywhere.

She sobbed, tears leaking from her eyes, but when Tom and Eric forced her legs apart she didn't fight them, and her hips tilted up, an unconscious but sensual invitation. I forced her to kiss me, and then she was drowning in hands and mouths, moaning into my kiss, arching...

Greg fucked her, roughly; I think he was as turned on by the play itself, as her body. "Come for him, slut," I whispered in her ear, and she shook her head no, and pleaded in a whisper for this to stop, and sobbed in horror at the pleasure she felt; and then shuddered, suddenly unable to breathe... I fucked her mouth with my tongue, someone yanked her nipples... and she came, helplessly and violently. Greg came on her, and then Eric banged her.

"You're my slut," I whispered in her ear, mercilessly. "Say it. You're my slut."

"Slut," she whimpered, dazed. Her body was tensing again. 

"No," I growled. "My slut. My toy. My possession. You'll please me every fucking night and however I like. Say it!"

The tension in her legs and belly became spasms. No off switch. She'd come as long as we pushed her to, until the drug effect faded. But looking at her I knew her response was not entirely from the drug. Not by a long shot. She arched, slowly.

"No! Please no! No, I... oh fuck! Why is it so good!? Fuck, no! Oh fuck!"

I twisted her nipples, roughly, as Eric pinned her legs wide open and pounded her. "Say it!"

Her head tossed from side to side, but I grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth with my finger, and then my tongue.

"FUCK! I'm your slut! Fuck I'm coming again! Sir, make it stop! Make it- s-st- oh F-F-FUUUUCK make it stop!"

I took out my cock and forced it against her mouth, making her taste herself on me. She came, shrieking, sucking me sloppily and frantically between peaks. I shifted and straddled her face, trapping her between my thighs and making her lick my balls, as Eric pounded her uncontrollably eager body. He came inside her, slapped her ass, and then it was Tom's turn.

Tom shoved in, impatient and angry, giving her a pure hate-fuck, and she climaxed again just from his ruthlessness, screaming incoherently again. 

Snarling, I stepped back and jerked off onto her hand and told her to lick it up. She obeyed, wrapping her legs around Tom and urging him to take her faster. She licked and licked and licked and then came a final time; and then just sagged, exhausted, gasping for air, eyes wide and staring at nothing in uncomprehending shock.

"Nice game, Miss." I told her. "Let's go home."

+++

I got her into the car, and hit the Home button. The car rolled out, searched for an opening in the traffic, and slid into the flow.

"Come here," I told her.

She shook her head No, and cowered against the door, naked and hateful.

"You lost a bet, Julianne. It's not the end of the world."

"An Ace," she whispered. "You won on the last card, and got exactly the card you needed to beat me. I had it all. I had my freedom, six thousand credits and my job, until that one card. Now I owe you five thousand credits and I'm going home with you to be your personal cum wipe until you get bored. I've been fucked and used and... fuck, stop looking at me!"

"You're mine to look at. Do you know why? Do you know what your problem is, Julianne? Pride. Pride's the only reason I have you. You know you're smart and you figure that means you deserve a nice job and a decent future. You don't want to slave it in a Services job, you want better than that. But you know, everything is a negotiation. You hate this? Then quit. I can't stop you from quitting. I'll never collect that five thousand you owe me if you leave. Yeah, you'll owe the Company a lot for your training but it's only poverty and it's only a lifetime. You've got it in your head that you've been raped but the reality is you had a choice. And you made it your choice. You want that comfy future so bad you let a bunch of guys fuck you."

"Damn you," she hissed. "What the fuck do you know about it. I've seen poverty, you never have. I got myself out of a fucking war zone. I had a future until you! And maybe I had a choice about showing up this evening, but you had me over that table and I had no choice about that. That was rape."

"The evening was recorded. No one who sees that recording will call it rape."

"I fucking say no. You didn't stop."

"It wasn't much of a no, and if it ever went to trial, there would be guys on the jury, watching the video. You wouldn't stand a chance, and wouldn't it be nice when Media published your face all over the net? Look, Miss Julianne. What happened to you is beyond unfair. I get that. I pounced on you the moment you fucked up. And that Ace had to feel like a big fat ass-reaming from fate. But you don't live in a fair world. Take those words into your bitter, bitter soul – it's not a fair world. I want you, I have you, and I'll do what I please with you, within reason."

"Within reason?" she nearly spat.

"Look round, Miss. Nice car, going to a much nicer apartment than you've ever lived in. No more rent to pay, as long as I like what I get. Yeah you'll do things you don't like with people you didn't choose, and you have to put up with me, but those are the only downsides."

"You've made me a whore!"

"No. You chose whoring over poverty. Yeah that choice sucks but it was your choice, and maybe we can make it work out for both of us!"




Why I Love My Job Ch. 03



She stared at me. If there had been a mirror in here, I'd probably have stared at myself. What the fuck had I just said?

"Work out. You think this is going to work out. Like this is some lover's quarrel and we'll make up and be happy together? What the hell kind of fantasy life do you have?"

I paused. "I honestly don't know. I'm about as stunned as you are that I said that."

"You think I'm going to fall for you," she said, still staring.

I looked at her, at little bemused. "Well, you could do worse I suppose..."

"I don't have fucking words. I don't! Aren't you afraid I'll neuter you in your sleep?"

"Not really," I said, thoughtfully. "...Come here, Miss Julianne."

"Make me!"

"As you wish." I sank my hand into her hair and pulled. She screamed in incoherent rage, flailing at me, but she was no match for me, and I forced her to look up into my face. Suddenly she burst into tears.

"Finally," I said. "You've been though a hell of an evening and I expected tears long before this."

"Enjoy them you fucking bast-"

"Miss Julianne," I said. "As my illegally won possession, you're in line to start learning some rules. Here's the first. No profanity in my presence. Ever. I do spank girls, just to be clear."

"Go fuck-"

I knew she couldn't possibly turn off her anger enough to curb her tongue, but as Management says to us all the time, Rules are Rules. I forced her over my lap and brought my hand down. She cried harder, and I slapped again, harder.

"I mean it." I said, softly.

"Stop," she sobbed.

I stroked her ass, slowly and lightly. "No more profanity."

"Let go over me."

I kept stroking. "No."

"Stop – stop touching me!"

"No. I know what you're afraid of."

"No you don't!"

"Yes. I do. You're afraid I'll make you come again. You're afraid I'll know you like what you feel. Too late; I know it."

She was silent. Of course, I knew what she didn't – she had a light dose of an aphrodisiac in her system and it would be a few hours before it was gone. I also knew that by being firm with her, by making her body move against me, lie across my lap, take my spankings and caresses – I was fucking with her head. Maybe in twenty years she'd be able to ignore the siren call of obedience to a ruthless and powerful man, but at her age I doubted she'd be able to fight it long.

I slid my finger into her. "Stop," she whimpered.

"Don't squeeze down." I moved it, very slowly. After two minutes of stone-faced anger the tears started again, and then she squeezed down hard. I raped her with my finger, and she came.

+++

"Why?" She whispered, when she stopped panting. "Why are you doing this to me. Just let me go. Please. I'm not old enough for you. I don't even understand this. I can't fight you. I'm scared. I get it, you can make my body do things and I don't even know how. But it just scares me, you scare me. Please, I feel like a terrified, lost little girl."

"But will you be a good girl? No more cursing?"

"Yes. Now I'm scared to curse. Why are you doing this?"

She had a valid question. Why was I? A deep desire to control others, wired into me since I was small. And an intensely sexual nature, a cock that wanted to fuck the pretties all day long. But I had to be honest – I'd fucked with Suzie and Cecily and Kim just as hard but I hadn't enslaved them and taken them home like this. I'd used them, but I'd claimed Julianne. Why? Because I could? Or was it more?

"Sit up. I want you to try something. I want you to kiss me."

"No! I won't!"

"Sometimes you really do sound eighteen. Or maybe that was fifteen. Just do it."

"I don't kiss people I hate!"

"I'm sure that's true, but I wonder if it's relevant. Sit up."

She did, glaring at me. 

I looked into her eyes, and very lightly traced a thumb over her lower lip. She struggled with the temptation to bite it, but I kept touching... and kept looking.

Anger. Fear. Confusion. But the confusion was winning. Her eyes got wider, and it was shock, not arousal. Suddenly she looked down.

"No, Look at me." I said.

"I hate everything you do," she whispered.

"Do you? I've given you plenty of reason to. Look back into my eyes."

Slowly, she raised them. She was shaking again, but in the end she met my gaze.

"Lick your lips for kissing. You're too scared to kiss me, but I'm going to kiss you."

More confusion... and then fear. "No!"

"Yes."

"Everything you do is a trick," she whispered.

"More than you realize. But not this time. Lick them; I don't like kissing dry lips."

Confusion. Shame. And then, she licked them, lightly and quickly. "You're different," she said. "All of a sudden you're like a different person..."

"You, too," I said. Watching her eyes, I pulled her, slowly, towards me, giving her time to welter in emotions she didn't understand.

She whimpered, not in desire, but in fear. Our lips met. She shuddered so hard I had to steady her, but her lips clung. I opened my mouth against hers, slowly. "Stop," she said voicelessly against my mouth. "Please? Please don't..."

I kissed her fully, and slowly. In the end, she kissed back. I ran my hands down her naked back, pressing her to me.

She broke the kiss, clung to me like a child, and dissolved into tears.

The car pulled into my parking spot.



Why I Love My Job Ch. 04



When you look at a beautiful woman, it's sometimes possible to forget her age.

This is the only explanation I have for why I brought an eighteen year old girl home to live with me.

"Don't you have anything fun to eat?"

"If you're referring to the fact that you ate up all the chips and dip, and the only snacks left in the house are banapples, no."

"Banapples are kind of gross."

"We could get some plears."

"The ugly purple things? Eww."

To be fair, that was her at her worst. She was a smart girl. But no amount of intelligence could change the fact that she'd been alive for eighteen summers; or that her taste in music was a serious, serious problem. (Headphones helped, but the sad fact was, she hummed along. Even after the spankings.)

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Her first night with me I made her sleep in my bed, and she cried. I didn't touch her, in part because I was well and truly fucked out, in part because she probably wouldn't have handled it well. This is what passes for "thoughtful" with me.

In the morning, I woke first, and looked at her. I was being a total bastard, I realized, enslaving this inexperienced and confused girl to my whims and wishes. But just looking her over, wrapped in sheets, got me hard again. She was fucking gorgeous – not all girls are, the next morning. I shrugged a little. Hard cocks don't have consciences, and as I've been told by friends and girls many times, I was pretty much one hundred percent dick. 

She was the one that had gone all in on three kings, after all. Now she'd warm my bed and give me whatever I wanted, until I got bored.

I didn't think about the kiss, last night. She probably wouldn't either.

I did a workout. The Company demands everyone stay in shape, in part because Health demands it and will not cover you if you don't stick to the program; in part because, let's face it, fat people suck. Workouts are generally done at work, but I had the right to do mine at home. That way I could focus down, and not have to deal with secretaries looking me over and making sure I noticed how tight the translucent stretchweave was over their boobs. 

Working out after sex always feels good – pushing sore muscle and listening to it complain is strangely satisfying. As I worked it I heard the shower go on, and smiled. Normally the shower is the next stop after a workout, but I decided to hit the kitchen next. I was being nice – I like girls in a shower but I didn't think she'd be able to cope with what happened when she dropped the soap.

She came in, wearing one of my fluffier robes, as I ate. She walked like she was sore, and I was sure she was. I'd fucked her twice, and could feel it in my legs and abdomen. She'd been fucked about six times and had wracking orgasms in positions she probably wasn't used to. 

"Morning."

"Morning, sir," she said neutrally.

"You look good this morning."

"Thank you sir. I look good every morning. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

I didn't bother to answer that. I got up and started some toast. I stretched, slowly, enjoying being in just the workout shorts, enjoying being a little sweaty and salty and achy.

She poked around in the cooler. "I'm surprised you didn't make me cook your breakfast," she said.

"I thought about it. Can you cook?"

"Not very well."

"Narrow escape for me, then."

She looked at me, wrapped in a robe much too big for her. I looked back at her.

"You're getting hard," she said. She had that whole unemotional statement thing down cold.

"I am, aren't I. Thanks for noticing."

"Am I supposed to service you each morning?"

I walked over to her, and looked down into her face. She was trying to be so brave, I thought. She was trying so hard to play it cool, to be aloof and above it all. 

"There won't usually be time for it," I told her. I moved on and got the butter-jam mix from the fridge.

"But you want to," she said.

I walked back to her and jerked the robe open. "Take it off," I said.

She did, silently. I admired what she had. Slowly, her nipples hardened.

"You kissed me last night," she said, suddenly.

"Yup." I didn't want to talk about that. 

"Why?"

I turned and looked at her, as I leaned against the counter. She went to sit down on the other side of the table, but I cleared my throat. "No. Come here."

She looked annoyed, but she walked over. Naked. Pretty. Actually, fucking beautiful. A lot of girls don't improve when the clothing came off. She did.

I stared at her face and body. She just looked down. 

My dick got harder, and as I watched, her nipples echoed that sentiment.

"You're hot, and easily aroused. It doesn't figure you'd have as little sexual experience as you do. And you were around soldiers?"

"They were decent. And I started hanging with them when I was nine. I became the honorary little sister to them. When I turned thirteen they swore a pact that if the village was attacked, they'd defend me and get me to safety even if they had to disobey orders to do it. I don't know if they meant it but it meant the world to me. They also made each other promise they wouldn't hurt me themselves. It was a very big deal when I got older and one of them wanted... more from me. They told him they'd beat him senseless if he didn't treat me right." She looked up, briefly. "Not that it mattered much, he got sent off on a special mission and didn't come back. So you see I'm not used to men like you."

She was used to nice men who took care of her. Now she was being taken care of by a man who was not so nice.

"It's ok," I told her. "You can look at my erection."

"I don't want to. I've seen it before, anyway."

"Look at it now."

She did. Expressionlessly. All that poker playing, I thought. She looked away again.

"You find it flattering. You're also turned on. I think you must hate that, but you are," I said.

"You are so perceptive, sir. I have a question. Was I drugged last night?"

"Would I do that?"

"It's not legal... but I don't think that would stop you."

"Without admitting to any illegal activity, it's possible a low dose of something stimulating was added to the drink you had, during the poker game. And that might explain why you couldn't stop coming, once you started. But you came a lot even before that. You're good at coming, good at getting turned on. And that's why you're angry."

"I have lots of reasons to be angry. You tried to fuck up my game with drugs."

"Screwing with your game is the least of your issues. Yeah, so the rotting cock comment cost you. But I'll just say it, Miss Slut. You weren't drugged before that – and you came good and hard on the couch. You've been around nice men all your life, but something about the bad ones gets to you. It's getting to you right now."

"Maybe I wouldn't have gone all in on three kings if I hadn't been drugged."

"Bullshit. Be honest," I said. "In that circumstance do you really think you'd have played differently? My three aces were a fluke. Your odds were decent, and you bet in a way that would have gotten you free of me if you'd won, but didn't make your situation much worse if you'd lost. Do you really want to blame your decision on some Ice?"

"You're still getting harder," she said.

I pulled the shorts down and kicked them away. She stared at it.

"Being sexual is still strange to you," I said. "You don't know why a bastard like me gets to you, but you know now that I do. Hate it all you want but what I'm doing to you turns you on. You can hide behind anger if you want but being captured prey makes you wet." 

"The wet isn't what matters. The anger is what matters. You're ruthless."

"Yes. Come here."

She did.

"Kneel."

She did.

"Kiss it."

She closed her eyes, but she did.

"Lick it."

Shaking in anger, she did.

"You can still taste yourself," I told her. "Get used to that. Let me tell you how it will go tonight. There's a little bedtime ritual you'll follow from now on. You'll enter the room silently, disrobe, come to the bed, kneel to it and lower your head. If I'm in in it, you kiss my foot. Then you get ready for bed, brush your hair because I like it all gleaming and pretty, and you'll put a collar on your throat - it's in the drawer by my bed. Only then can you speak and lie down."

"A... collar. Like a dog."

"More like a bought and paid-for whore. What we'd call a sex slave if sex-slavery was legal. Every Company woman who has shared my bed has done it wearing that collar and you will be no different. You'll look hot in it and it makes a nice grip. Now stand up."

She stood, simmering in anger, but very visibly aroused. "You didn't answer the question about the kiss."

"I don't know how to answer that, yet," I said honestly.

"I need to know," she said.

"I'll tell you when I figure it out." I looked at her, and then sighed. "I liked it, Julianne. And it wasn't a trick. I felt something. I don't want to talk about it yet because feelings can be fucked up little liars sometimes. I'll get back to you when I know more. That's the best I can do right now."

"And you're not going to fuck me with that huge hard thing right now?"

"No. I want to too much. If I start listening to my cock all the time I won't get anywhere in life. You'll get plenty tonight. Think about that, all day."

I put the toast together, left her two slices, and headed for the shower.

+++

She stormed around the bedroom, and then into the bathroom. "You didn't bring my clothing back with us!"

"Yeah, didn't think of it." Fuck, a hot shower was a glorious thing. I made it a little hotter. Fuck yes.

"You expect me to go to work in your robe?"

"Nope. I'll get Suzie over here to take you back to your old apartment and pack you up. You'll be paid for the time."

"You know, I think I mentioned to you that I have a boyfriend?"

"I think you did. I don't care who you see on the side, as long as you're in my bed in the evenings, most days."

"You fucking ice cold bastard," she raged. "He dumped me a week ago. Because I was always working and never available. But you don't give two shits about anything but your fucking dick and what happens in bed-"

I stepped out of the shower and grabbed her by the throat, sat myself on the floor and put over my lap, face down. She had one of those asses that just invited this. "No!" she screamed. "Don't touch me!"

Slap. She burst into tears. I slapped again, and again.

"Language," I said furiously, "is a thing I don't put up with in my girls, Miss. You're my property, my amusement, and maybe we'll see what else you're capable of becoming. But in the meantime you're going to be a woman around me, and it's my definition of what a woman is that counts. Be as pissed as you want, being pissy is very womanly. But in your speech you will be polite. Your clothing will be hot. And in bed you will be fucking glorious, especially when I'm done teaching you what I like. If anything more ever comes out of this little relationship, it will come because you've earned my respect and you can't do that by acting like mouthy trash from the lower economic strata. You're better than that." Slap. "And you will" Slap. "learn this" Slap. "no matter how ruthless" Slap. "I have to be with you." Slap!

I pushed her off my lap. She burst into tears of rage. I kept an eye on her ass; I'd been pretty pissed, but it didn't look worse than a hot pink.

"You can't." She sobbed. "You can't just... do this. You can't just make me into whatever you want. You can't!"

"Maybe not," I said. "But I can and will make you into what I need."

I walked out. I had to call Suzie to arrange Julianne's move, and then get to work.

+++

I had a busy day. Around three in the afternoon I got a call from Suzie; Julianne was settled in my apartment. She hadn't had much stuff and she didn't own a car. The only snag had been that they'd run into Julianne's former roommates and there'd been a fuss about back rent, and they had wanted three months future rent to give them time to find a roommate to replace her. Suzie had made an executive decision and used Company funds to pay them off, but I'd just hit the Company up for Julianne's clothing and wouldn't be able to hide this expense, too. I was going to have to reimburse.

I was a little surprised at how much it came to. Julianne had been paying the lion's share of the rent, apparently because she'd started out with the best income in the group. It wasn't that it was a lot of money on my scale, just more than I'd thought. I needed to confirm this with Suzie.

I thumbed the video on. And blinked a little. Suzie was in my bedroom, with her blouse open, her nipples hard and my collar on her throat. She blushed, hotly.

"Enjoying a little trip down memory lane, Miss Suzie?"

"Uh. Yes sir."

"I'm going to assume you left the door open and Julianne saw you this way."

"Um... yes sir," she said, blushing more. Women and their strange little games, I thought.

Her free hand restlessly rearranged a strand of her hair. "It's... the scent of you in the room, sir. It got to me, you know? And the scent of another woman in your bed. I just..."

"Pinch your nipple, Suzie. Don't be too gentle."

She did, eyes fluttering closed, and then she gasped. "I remember how you used to tie me up and just play with my nipples until I begged for you to take me. And then you'd rub my clit. You loved making me beg. No one's ever made me as crazy as you did. You could make me agree to anything."

"Now the other. Twist it."

Suzie was easy to command and I get a dark thrill out of commanding women. She licked her lips, and twisted the nipple, slowly, giving me the close up. She was panting now. 

"Set your phone in the charger, point it at the bed, take everything off and lie on it."

Suzie wore perfume. Tonight, Julianne would smell it when she went to bed. 

"Wider apart, Miss. Do you remember how the ropes used to hold you? I kept you so wide open your hips would ache afterwards. Just like that. Now masturbate, Miss."

"Sir... Peter hasn't let me come in a week. He's used me and toyed with me but I can't come."

"Faster, Miss."

She moaned. "You're torturing me."

"Hardly. But since you seem to like the idea... I think you know where the vibrator is."

"Sir, please no. In my mood-"

"Now, Miss."

She nodded, rolled, and fetched it from the nightstand. Then she rolled back, opened her legs, and waited, panting frantically.

"Use it. On medium. On your clit."

I watched her, silently, as she slowly built her way up from aroused to desperate. 

"Sir, please – please. I was playing around before you called. I'm already so close. Holding it back – it hurts-"

"On high. Now."

She shuddered, over and over. "Sir! PLEASE! I-I want your cock- you know I want-"

"Off."

She lay there, spasming in need. Julianne would have heard that, of course, and it was a fair bet she'd looked through the doorway. Tonight would be interesting.

"Get dressed, Miss Suzie. I think tonight Peter will fuck you senseless and maybe if you beg enough he'll let you come. If not... oh well. You're his and you'll do whatever pleases him. Now you and Julianne get back to work, you can still get a couple hours of useful work in."

"I don't think I'll be v-very useful," she said, shaking, as her clothing went back on.

"The Company wouldn't like that." I hit disconnect.

Great. Now I had a raging erection and a bunch of meetings to go to. 

+++

The phone blinked for attention. "Yes, Miss Cheryl." I said. She didn't offer video, which probably meant there were people around. Or she was being monitored.

"Hello sir. I'm told you procured the media I asked about?"

She was being very careful.

"I did. When do you want to review it?"

"I'm booked for the next couple days. Can you set something up with my private assistant?"

She didn't have a private assistant. Which meant she wanted me to contact her phone's AI and schedule things privately – without using the Company calendar, and without me mentioning any dates on this call. I frowned. Clearly she was being monitored, and the AIs would flag certain word choices as worth investigating. I hoped she wasn't in big trouble and hoped more that I wasn't.

"I'll do that. Thanks for your attention in this matter."

"Thank you as well." She disconnected.

+++

I picked up Julianne and brought her home. She was extremely quiet in the car. I imagined she'd been pretty quiet in the car with Suzie, too.

I got home, flipped open the phone and dealt with scheduling a meeting with Cheryl. I was surprised to find Julianne looking over my shoulder. "Yes?"

"Her AI is tapped."

"Excuse me?"

"Whoever you're scheduling with. Her phone's been tapped."

"How do you know?"

"Close the app and connect to her AI again."

Frowning, I did.

"There. The window opened right up but there was a little pause right after the AI appeared."

"By little pause you seem to mean a few milliseconds."

"I guess."

"So three questions, I think. Why were you looking at my phone, how did you even notice that pause, and how do you know it means a tap."

"In order: I'm trying to learn your weaknesses and vulnerabilities; I'm good at noticing things; and my soldier friends knew quite a lot about taps and spying in general, and taught me things."

I closed the app, and then the phone. And looked at her.

"Julianne, it's no secret that you don't like what I've done to you. But you just helped me. Why?"

"I'm not stupid, sir. I'm broke and I need your charity. If you're in trouble it might not go so well for me." She smiled, sarcastically. "You enslaved a pair of tits but you also got a pair of eyes." 

I looked at her eyes. They looked back. I smiled, a very little bit.

"You can track shuffles, can't you."

"I'm not great at it ...but nit terrible at it either."

"And you didn't know I had the two aces?"

"I didn't. I was almost sure you didn't have a ten so I didn't believe you could get the straight you needed to beat me. I'm best at tracking the cards I had in my previous hand and the board; but I can't watch everything at once. By the way, your friend Greg tracks cards. He got annoyed when he couldn't follow my shuffles."

"Figures. And you don't think that's cheating?"

"Why, sir? It's how I was taught to play. The guys taught me to shuffle fast and randomly because they tracked cards, too."

I continued to look into her eyes. 

"That's an unnerving smile, sir."

"I suspect it is. Let's make dinner."

+++

She stared at the stuff I laid out. "Fresh vegetables. Spices. Frozen chicken. Is this ginger? You cook with fresh ginger?"

"Not all the time. Ginger is for special occasions."

"For me, fresh vegetables would be a special occasion."

"Get used to it."

"I'm afraid to."

I looked at her; of all the ways she'd told me she was unhappy with her fate over the last few days, that was the one that really stuck home with me. I didn't say anything, but I thought a lot, as I stir-fried the chicken. She cooked a cup of rice, and then tasted the vegetables I'd stirred up in the chicken's juices and spices. She thought for a moment, grabbed some orange juice from the fridge, and dumped in a tablespoon's worth. She stirred and tasted again, found some honey, and mixed in a tiny bit. She tasted again.

"I think I could learn to cook," she announced.

"It would not surprise me," I replied. "Try adding a half teaspoon of the wine vinegar."

She found it, sniffed it, and wrinkled her nose. But she measured some in and stirred and tasted.

"Oh... I get it," she said. "That's interesting... I just never really had the chance to learn. The foodpacs... they come with everything premixed, and they always come out the same."

"Another fine Company product," I said, a little sourly.




Why I Love My Job Ch. 04



I stirred everything together, and we sat down to eat, still dressed for work. 

"It's like... too much flavor," she said. "I can taste all the individual things. And it's spicy. What are the crunchy things?"

"Water chestnuts."

"I've never heard of them. There's not a lot of flavor in them."

"They are there for the texture, plus some fiber and some minerals. Mostly just to bite into, though."

She sank into the experience of food that didn't taste like badly flavored cardboard. After a bit she looked up. "We cooked too much."

"Leftovers," I said. "You'll have them for lunch tomorrow."

"I couldn't. The other secretaries... they'd... well, be jealous."

"Good."

"Sir, I-"

She cut off. Eighteen, I reminded myself. Not a lot of life experience. 

"You're welcome," I said.

"I... don't like having to thank you. You're ruthless."

"I've heard that," I said. "Unfortunately, it's true."

"I can't sleep in your bed tonight, sir," she said suddenly.

"You will, and it's not negotiable."

"I know what Miss Suzie did, sir."

"You watched."

"Not very long. But I heard everything, sir."

"Hot, wasn't it ...And in the apartment I think you can drop the sir."

"She wants you very much, si- um... how do I address you if isn't sir?"

"My friends call my Scott."

"That's of no use to me."

"It might be. You never know."

"Whatever. She wants you, very much."

"And she makes it very obvious."

"Why did you get rid of her?"

"Boredom. So you see, there's hope," I said, a little grimly. "Bore me and eventually I'll let you go."

"So where will I sleep tonight?"

"In my bed. Never ask that again."

"I- I can't. She wore that collar and just... and I'm next. It's... degrading."

"If I can give you the benefit of my advanced age and greater wisdom... the real problem is, it's hot. You'll respond sexually when you put on that collar and lie in my bed. You don't want to. You hate the idea. But we both know it will happen. Smelling her perfume on the sheets will make it worse."

"Why do you want me around if you could have her. She's willing. She wants you. She's pretty."

"She's not pretty. She's hot, but pretty isn't the same and it's something she can't reach."

"Am I- damn it," she said. "I can't believe I almost asked that."

"Yes, you are."

"And that's why I'm here."

I looked at her. She got very interested in the last remaining piece of carrot on her plate.

"Eat that," I said.

"Why?"

"Because you want to and because I want you to have the experience of being obedient to me, right now."

"It's not an experience I want to get used to fee-"

"Now."

She ate it, shivering.

"You liked the way it tasted. The feel of it in your mouth. The flavors, the complexity of it. And that fact that I insisted made you more aware of everything, the taste and feel."

"Please stop this. Everything is a trick with you. Conversation, nice food, a woman in your bed, that awful collar, it's all some kind of trick."

I got up and walked over to her chair, and tilted her head back. The cool, expressionless demeanor suddenly collapsed. There was the fear again.

I kissed her, slowly and insistently. She was frozen, unable to push me away, unable to kiss back. My lips moved over hers, invitingly. Suddenly her head went down and she shivered.

"You're the one that wants to know what a kiss means," I said.

"Not curious now," she said in a very small voice.

I draw her to her feet. She didn't resist. I walked her to the couch, set her down in it, and sat next to her. She sat there, not looking at me.

I kissed her mouth, over and over, my fingers toying with her hair, not quite gripping. She remained frozen, breathing slow and steady, not moving, not doing anything at all – but she couldn't stop the relentless hardening of her nipples, or the little shivers when my fingers shifted in my hair.

"I won't tell you you have to," I said softly. "That makes it too easy for you. That makes it my fault. I'll just kiss you until you kiss back because you can't fight it any more."

"Won't happen," she said in a very soft voice. She was looking down, drawing in on herself, trying to hide. But I wasn't going to allow her that.

I kissed her mouth again, passionately, softly, roughly, gently and mockingly, while massaging the back of her neck and scalp. My hands didn't go lower; I didn't what this to be about her boobs and legs and pussy. I was going after her feelings, and she knew it. Her eyes closed tight, and then she shook her head, but I held it tightly. Kiss after kiss after lingering kiss, and then she moaned.

"Trick. Bad. Stop!"

I pressed my tongue against her lips, and stroked, slowly. They parted, closed again; she moaned, and tried to turn her head, but I would not let her. I licked her mouth again, and then nibbled her lower lip, making them part again. The next kiss found her still frozen, but with her lips parted... she shivered to every kiss now, and whimpered as I licked her mouth open, wider and wider. She started to close them, but I growled... 

She mewled, and then her lips responded to mine, slowly, but softly.

"Good girl," I whispered. "Kiss. I like the way it feels when you kiss."

I kissed her deeper, and she mewled again. "No... bad... bad... you're... bad..."

I draw her into my lap, and then she was kissing back, groan for groan and tongue for tongue. Only then did I stroke her sides, and then her breasts and legs. In the end her hands went to my chest, stroking lightly, and we made out – there's no other word for it – as I slowly removed her blouse and skirt, and then kissed her throat. My thumbs stroked over her bared nipples, and her eyes sent sightless. My cock was huge under her, and she couldn't stop herself from shifting and rocking on it. 

I kissed her mouth again, deeply. Shaking, her hands went around my neck, and she clung. My hand traced down her belly, and she kissed me back more frantically, trying not to think about what happened next.

I slid my hand over her panties, and massaged, and my kisses got rougher, and then gently and alluring, then rougher again. Suddenly her legs slid apart, and her panties were soaked. I slid my hand in.

"Please... don't make me wear that collar..."

I speared a finger in, slowly. "Yes. You'll always be in my collar when I fuck you." She clenched down on my finger, and I curled it, over and over, deeper each time, feeling out the spots that made her whimper. "I'll put it on you the first time. After that... you will put it on for me, each night."

"No... " she whispered, but I kissed her mouth again, thrusting into it with my tongue in time with the movement of my finger. Her shudders became continuous, and then she was grinding on my cock, slowly but deliberately.

I stood her up, undressed her completely, and walked her into the bedroom. Suzie had left the collar on my bed, and I took it up in my hand and ran it lightly over Julianne's lips. "Kiss it."

"You're... bad..." she whispered, dazedly, kissing it once, and then over and over. "Now... I'm... bad..."

I put it on her, and lay her back on the bed. Her legs opened and her hips tilted up. I undressed, got over her, gripped the collar, and made her kiss me as I pushed firmly into her. Her frightened but increasingly animalistic moans turned me to fire, and I took what I wanted, groaning in need as she squeezed down and rocked for me, sucking my tongue and running her hands in my hair. She was no expert at being pleasing, but her willingness counted for a lot, and then she stroked those long, pretty legs along the backs of mine, and I was rigid and growling, and her breasts pressed up against me, hard nipples sliding, and I thrust into her, uncontrollable now, I needed this from her; she sobbed, and I came inside her, spurt after hot spurt...

She didn't come, but she gasped and shook with each thrust, until I lie still on top of her.

"Nice," I said, softly. "Tell me what you feel."

"No. Can't," she whispered.

"Tell me."

She shook her head no.

"You're needy, and don't want to admit it, among other things." I drew her against me, and gripped her collar again. "I'm going to use my finger. You'll come for me." 

She shook her head no again. I choked back a chuckle. Even she knew she was beaten.

I kissed her, working a finger inside her, until her legs shook and she arched, gasping. Then I lowered my mouth to her nipple and sucked it in roughly, pushing another finger inside her, spreading them wide, clawing at the spots that got to her.

She thrashed through her orgasm; then I curled her tight against me and kissed her face, lightly, over and over.

"You're... evil," she said in a soft shattered voice.

"I've been told that," I murmured.

"You can have Suzie," she said. "She wants you."

"You're more interesting. And you kiss better."

"She... must really suck at it then."

"She kind of does."

"I don't lo- like you."

"That's ok," I said. "I think you might, someday."

She just shivered, and I wrapped us in Suzie-scented blankets. She drifted towards sleep.

+++

When I woke up, she was very lightly stroking my cock.

"Baby..." I murmured.

"Oh shit," she whispered, freezing.

"What have I told you about language."

"Don't spank me. I'm still sore from before." 

"You got me hard in my sleep, slut."

"I'm sorry!"

"Keep touching me. You start something with me, you find out how it ends."

Her hand stroked, trembling a little. I was already fully hard, and a little sore.

"Why did you touch me."

"I... don't know."

"Try to explain. Now."

"I... I've never woken up with anyone after sex. You were right there and hot and... my hand just bumbled into it. It was heavy and warm but so soft... it was just... interesting. I... please let me stop," she said, miserably.

"I'm not even sure I'd come again," I told her. "I've had a lot recently, not that I'm complaining. But you... you're curious and insatiable and turned on again."

"No I'm not."

"Really. Put a finger against your slit and tell me what you find."

"...No."

"Do it!"

She did. "I'm... wet."

I put my hand over hers, and pushed her finger in, with one of mine. "Have you ever masturbated with someone next to you?"

"No. Yes. He didn't know. Or if he did he didn't say anything. He was inside the tent, I was outside, we were learning against each other, back to back, talking. I pretended to fall asleep, and... touched. I was very, very quiet, and... I pretended to be waking up as I came. Don't... make me."

"Keep touching yourself, and me. Kiss me as you do it."

"You never let me say no."

"It's not a word I like. Now kiss me."

She did, in that shy, scared way inexperienced girls do when they're afraid of turning you on, but just end up turning you on harder with their fear and uncertainty.

"Wait," I said. "My cock. You're not doing it right. It's not just grip and pump. Lay the heel of your palm across the head of my cock, your fingertips towards the balls."

She gave a deeply embarrassed, frightened giggle. "When I started this, my hand reached all the way. Now I don't. I... did that."

"You better keep doing it, too."

She adjusted her hand, and rubbed down, a little too gently. "More and a little faster. It's not made of glass. And the same advice to your other hand."

We kissed. She moaned, suddenly.

"The collar..."

"Yes?"

"It... does something to me. I... when you call me your property..."

"Faster."

She gasped. "It shouldn't be hot. Being someone's... plaything. You call me those names, slut, fucktoy, plaything. I'm not, I'm..."

"Faster, Julianne."

"No... don't! You're making me..."

"Making you come?"

"No," she said, miserably. "Making me... like this. You're just... I don't understand. I'm not a slut, I'm just... please. I have to hate you. I have to! The kisses don't mean what you think! Stop making me get... confused... It's just... You're so big. So thick, touching it is hypnotic..."

I reached above my head and tapped the light panel. The room lit, dimly, and I kicked the blanket aside. "Look at what you're doing."

She looked, and her mouth fell open, slowly, as she watched my precum coat her wrist. "Let me stop. Please. You're teaching me to..."

"Be pleasing," I whispered in her ear. "You want to watch me come. Making me come feels so good. The thickness, the hardness, the hotness, and the noises I make, the thick white cum dripping on your hand. Almost as good as coming yourself... isn't it."

Her finger moved inside her, faster. I took her by the collar and moved her face towards my cock, slowly. Her lips parted further.

"You like tasting yourself on me. Don't you, slut."

"No- no- yes-"

I forced her lips over the head of my cock, and felt her tongue slide over it, warm and heavy and eager. Suddenly she whimpered and her body arched, her finger moving frantically inside her-

I took her hand away from herself, and turned over. "You can't come and you can't touch me. Try to get some sleep."

She thrashed in frustration, and whimpered when she realized I meant it. I drifted back to sleep to her whispering over and over, "evil... you're evil... evil..."

+++

The next day on the way to work I stopped at a private antique shop. It took the ancient proprietor thirty minutes, but in the end he turned up three pencils and a strange, metal mechanical device for sharpening them, with of all things a crank. After warning me about lead poisoning, he explained that the sharpener needed to be oiled once a year and that diamond nanolub wouldn't work, and charged me an unbelievable fifty credits for it. I sharpened a pencil in his store, figuring if the dust was toxic I didn't want it in my office.

A sheet of printer paper from one of the ancient printers in the basement, and I clumsily hand-wrote a note for Cheryl, giving her an address and time, and mentioning the tap on her phone. Having never hand-written anything longer than my signature, and only with an electric stylus, I found the experience more than a little bizarre. But I looked at the pencil after I used it, and the tip was barely worn at all. It was probably good for hundreds of uses, no battery, lightweight, no moving parts... I was surprised they'd fallen out of fashion, poisonous and all.

Curious, I went to find Bill, a friend with uncanny knowledge of the times before I was born, and a historian for Company research.

"Tell me about pencils."

"What, seriously? Seditious devices. They aren't quite illegal but that's only because the government didn't want to start an underground trade."

"Huh?"

"I'm serious. It was convenient – for the Governments and in many ways the Company – for every form of communication to be digital and interceptable. Pencils and pens had to go. So the rumor got out that the damn things were poisonous, that they contained heavy metals and represented, get this, a terrorist hazard on aircraft. You can still get forty credits for turning in a pack of pencils. The funny part is, every year or so I get some bright young tech in here with a great new design for an electric-free 'stylus'. I've seen some pretty good designs, too. I have to kill it each and every time. The Government will never let it get to market." He smirked. "I do keep the prototypes the techs come up with. They're about perfect for leaving dirty letters for the secretaries to find."

"Thanks," I said.

"Whatever you're doing... don't get caught." 

"Words to live by."



Why I Love My Job Ch. 05



A few days later I explained to Julianne that we'd be going to a hotel room to meet a female coworker. I told her I didn't expect her to enjoy the experience, but that she'd tolerate it anyway. I also told her I didn't plan to fuck the coworker, but admitted that plans were fluid.

She asked me, very naturally, what was in it for me if I wasn't going to fuck the coworker. I explained that the coworker had a highly placed friend and would be able to provide me with some information, and besides, she'd be naked. Julianne began to ask me what good that did me if I wasn't going to fuck her, until she abruptly remembered she'd also be in the room. She went white with anger and then pink with embarrassment, but nodded. I just smiled.

It's worth making this little aside. A lot of women believe that men, at least the sort of bastard that I am, put women through these experiences for the woman's benefit. We men are supposed to be training them to deeper obedience, or widening their sexual horizons and helping in their self-discovery, or just reinforcing our authority. Maybe there are guys like that, but I don't know any. My motivations have nothing to do with any of that bullshit. I simply want to enjoy women, however I wish to, without getting wrapped up in what any of it means or teaches or implies. I want to fuck beautiful girls. Watching Cheryl masturbate while I slid my cock in and out of Julianne sounded hot, end of story. If Julianne did, or didn't, become bisexual, or become a better "submissive" whatever the fuck that means, or even get off to any of it... not really an issue for me. If I get off, it's a good evening in my book. So, a word to the wiser women: stop assuming sex means anything to a man other than the raw physical act of having your body used for pleasure. That's one hundred percent of what sex is, to a man. Affection is a different topic, and it rocks when you can get both from the same woman, but it's nothing like essential. 

Let's put it in perspective. When a girl asks a girl how a date went, it's a two hour conversation and they discuss every emotional nuance, every implication of every word. Eye contact is a fifteen minute topic. Clothing is another thirty, and every sexual or romantic titillation is fully explored, in the context of past conversations and future hopes. 

Two guys discussing the same date: "Did you fuck?" "Hell yeah." Then they fistbump and talk about a common hobby and how fucking absurd tool prices are getting.

Get over yourselves, is what I'm saying. If you want a relationship to be more than orgasms, you have to earn it. You don't earn it by whining about what jerks guys are. We already know that. We don't care. Not caring about that shit is the whole point of the Y chromosome and why it rocks to have one.

+++

Chery was waiting in the lobby, wearing heels, stockings, and a red metallic tube dress, short and form fitting. Seeing her gave Julianne an unpleasant shock; Cheryl had been a confidant of Julianne's, not long ago. In the girl world this probably counted as treason or something. (In the guy world, it's business as normal.) Julianne's hello was incredibly cold. 

At the lobby desk, we did the Key Protocol. For people not in the Company or Government, the protocol probably isn't familiar. It gets around a simple but very real problem. You want to do something in a hotel room, and it's not something you want the world to know about – which means you don't want it recorded. If you utterly trust the person you're doing it with, it's not a problem. For those of us who are not in a position where trust is ever an option, you face the very real risk that whoever rented the room wired it for video before you arrived. You can't trust them, they can't trust you, so nobody can rent a room in advance. And you can't assume that the hotel staff wasn't bribed in advance, either, so just walking up to the desk together and asking for a key doesn't guarantee much.

So you walk up together and ask for the protocol. It involves a bunch of room keys, a black bag of colored marbles – two red, two lavender – and the two guests and the desk clerk all take a marble, blind. The point is to select one room key, randomly. Usually it starts with eight room keys; the theory being, if you're up against someone who can bribe a hotel to wire eight different rooms, you're up against someone who has so much incentive to screw you that you're an idiot for doing business with them at all.

Cheryl and I had a budding mutual trust, so we kept it to the two key version. Julianne paid for the room, and I reimbursed her. Not exactly untraceable, but better than nothing. We dropped our phones in the hotel safe, and went upstairs.

+++

The door closed, and I tossed Cheryl a chip. She smiled darkly and plugged it into the holo. She tossed one back, and I pocketed it.

"What's... that?" Julianne asked, nervously looking at the holo.

"A video of you getting your brains fucked out, dear," Cheryl said. "Don't worry, though. This stays in my private collection. Mr Gladgrind, sir, the lights?"

"Once you're naked," I said, pleasantly.

"Fair is fair," she conceded. "But I'd like you two to return the compliment."

"You'll see as much of me as you like," I said. "But Julianne is mine and I'll decide how much of what's mine is uncovered." I sat on the bed, and put Julianne beside me. I also took the collar out of my pocket and dropped it in Julianne's lap. She looked at me, expressionlessly, and then put it on.

"You have her well in hand," Cheryl said, softly. "And she's very pretty."

"You're pretty hot too," Julianne replied. Cheryl took it as a compliment, and smiled; only I knew that she'd been subtly insulted. Julianne had talked about poetry at one point. It occurred to me that she might know her way around words and it might be worth listening carefully to her word choices. This was no Suzie.

Cheryl stood in front of me, and slipped her shoes off. Smiling, she slipped one foot into my lap. "The stocking, if you would, sir."

"And the no-touch rule?"

"Oh, this doesn't count," she said, smiling more. I reached over and slid the stocking down her leg, slowly. She shifted the other foot to my lap, this time lightly working my cock with her toes. I could feel a dark and ugly emotion pour off of Julianne, without looking at her. Cheryl could as well, and her smile only got more sensual. 

Cheryl was small and exotic, with an Asian face, perhaps mixed with something european to give her larger eyes; and a trim Asian build, but longer legs and a little fuller on top than many girls from that region. She could have been pretty, I thought, but there was something sultry and debased in her eyes, and something a little too calculating about her. But she was sexy. And she knew how to use that.

Both stockings off, she slipped the shoes back on, and then stepped in close, straddling my leg. The dress was metallic and it showcased her nipples very effectively, with a zipper down the front.

She leaned forward, and slowly unzipped a few inches of it, then slid her hands in and caressed her breasts, eyes half closed. "The zipper is yours," she purred. "But don't touch any skin."

I frowned. "You did mention you liked taking charge of your boyfriend. I'm not so much into that. Don't push your luck with me." I pulled the zipper down and unhooked the hook and eye at the bottom, and it fell from her. 

She was polished and smooth and hairless, with stunningly large and cone shaped nipples. She looked, I reflected, exactly like what she was – a toy.

She stepped back, and turned around for me, slowly. "I give lap dances," she said, "to my boyfriend. I've gotten very, very good at edging him that way. It's all in the ass. I make him ask to touch my breasts, while I slide back and forth on his cock."

"He sounds like a pussy," Julianne said.

"Oh, he is," Cheryl laughed. "I think that's why I'm here. Mr Gladgrind isn't a pussy and, well, I can't do everything I want with him, but I can watch him fuck you senseless. But fair is fair, Mr Gladgrind. I hear you have a monster of a cock. I want to see it."

"What, this cock," Julianne said, pulling my zipper open suddenly. "This huge thing that he forces into me while holding me down?" She fished me out of my boxers, and stroked it, slowly. "I hate to think what this would do to your little pussy. When he's impatient, it hurts. I beg him to stop. But he knows me. He knows all about my rape fantasies." She got her thumb under the head of my cock, and rubbed. 

Cheryl stared at it. Julianne leaned over and licked it. "But I love it anyway," she said. "I love his big, huge, brutal, merciless cock. The more it makes me cry and beg to stop, the harder I come.... Sir, do I have to keep my clothes on? Please, I want to be naked for you. I want to please you. She can't touch you... but I can."

These two were talking to me in name only. It was the battle of the bitches, and I have to admit I was amused at how well Julianne held up her end. 

I reached over and began pulling Julianne's clothing off, roughly. I doubted Julianne had rape fantasies, but she'd had no trouble figuring out Cheryl did. "Ouch, sir, please be gentle." she whimpered. I stripped her bare... being rough with her was hot. Cheryl thought so – she was licking her lips, watching.

"Take your pants off," Cheryl said to me, panting a little. "Take everything off."

I pushed Julianne flat on the bed and stood up. Cheryl was maybe 5' 3" in heels, I was 6' 1". I stood over her, close, my cock almost touching her. "Listen to me, bitch." I said. "You want these clothes off, you take them off me. And like you said... no touching of skin. Take them off, fold them nicely and place them on the chair, like a good little service girl."

She nodded meekly, and did exactly that, starting with my shoes and socks, them moving to the suit jacket, tie, shirt and finally the pants and boxers. I wondered which was the real Cheryl, the dominant bitchy man-eater or the docile little doll with rape fantasies. Maybe both. I couldn't decide if that was hot or fucked up. Maybe both.

She looked good, bending over to place my shoes and clothing neatly on the chair.

"Now, Miss Cheryl, you're going to lie on the bed, watch the holo, and masturbate to it. I'm going to sit next to you, and Julianne's going to handle my cock while I toy with her. You won't touch me... or I won't be responsible for what happens to you."

"And you won't touch me," she said. Her eyes were on my hands as she said it. 

I hit the lights and started the video. I settled on the bed with my cock near Cheryl's head... and proceeded to make out with Julianne.

Cheryl caressed her body. It occurred to me that she did a lot of this slow, showy masturbation for her boyfriend. It was dull, but it was pure performance art.

"Miss Cheryl. You don't seem to have any idea how the fuck to masturbate. Julianne, show this phony porn actress how real women get themselves off."

I gripped and toyed with Julianne's breasts as she got fingers inside herself. She was panting in seconds, and it wasn't fake. One thing was obvious – as fucked-up as the dynamics were in this room, it was intensely sexual for all of us. Cheryl's eyes raped Julianne, and then her hands settled over her pussy and got down to it. Her eyes drifted to the video... watching Julianne get handled by several men. 

It took me a moment to realize that Julianne was staring at it avidly as well. She shuddered as she watched her own reaction to taking cock. And then she reached down and wrapped her hand around my cock, working it, swiftly. "You... you did that to me. You had no mercy," she whispered. 

We watched the video. I fast forwarded through the dull parts of the poker game, until the part where I pulled Julianne over the table.

"Fuck," whispered Cheryl, panting. There was nothing artsy about her masturbation now. She stared at the video, stared at my cock, back and forth.... Julianne was panting as well, wickedly turned on by watching her own debasement.

"She's a slut, too, sir," Julianne whispered, cruelly. "She wants your cock, but her boyfriend says no. But she wants it sooo much. She knows if she touches you, you'll rape her slutty little body. Maybe that's why she wants it so bad." Julianne reached over and ran fingernails over Chery's nipples.

"Oh fuck! Make her stop! No touching!"

I smiled. "You said I couldn't touch you. Not a word about her. But don't come, Cheryl. Don't you dare."

Julianne slapped Cheryl's breasts. Cheryl shuddered, eyes closing, then opening to stare at my cock, and at Julianne's hand, glistening and slippery with the precum she'd worked out of me. 

Cheryl whimpered. "Not... supposed to... have... anyone else cock...fuck, it's so big... it would hurt me..."

Julianne leaned over and whispered in her ear. "He raped me. He'll rape you, Cheryl. He'll hold you down and force your legs apart and fuck you while you sob and thrash, but he's so strong and you won't be able to stop him from forcing in, over and over, can you imagine the way you'll ache, and then the orgasm... you'll cum around his cock screaming for mercy, while he slaps you and treats you like a plaything, a toy for his pleasure... I know what it feels like. You can't help yourself. He makes you come. Over and over. You'll wake up tomorrow feeling like slutty, slutty trash because you wanted it, you wanted to be used, you wanted to be a fucking dirty whore with your begging aching rapeslit, you'll masturbate over and over tomorrow, you won't be able to stop, remembering how your body came and came and how you wanted his cum all over your body-"

Cheryl sobbed and rolled and wrapped her mouth around my cock. I slammed her on her back, and forced her legs apart, slapping her face when she tried to close them. Then I pounded into her small, thrashing body. She was a tight fit, not that I minded.

"No!" She screamed. "You can't! Not allowed! No, fuck, it hurts, stop, stop! Fuck, no, please stop!"

Julianne trapped her wrists against the bed. She was only barely able to hold her down, but it was enough. I plowed into Cheryl, again and again, watching her convulse.

"Caught. Forced. Raped," Julianne hissed in her ear. "You're going to come, slut." And as Cheryl sobbed, Julianne lowered her head and sucked ruthlessly at Cheryl's nipple. Cheryl arched, trying to force her nipple deeper into Julianne's mouth, but Julianne retreated and licked it, making Cheryl arch more. When she did, Julianne rewarded her with hard sucking... and then I saw the movement of Julianne's jaw, as her teeth sank into Cheryl. Cheryl came, moaning and then crying out, weltering in a dark, unstoppable animal response. I slapped Cheryl's face again, and she just came harder. Pretty she couldn't attain, but she was very successful as a hot little fuck with very dark fantasies. I slapped her upthrust, begging cone of a nipple... and then I needed to come.

Instantly Julianne was up against me, moaning frantically in my ear. "Take me, please don't come in her, it has to be me, please! Please! Please use me."

She didn't need to ask. It was exactly what I wanted. I slammed Julianne down more or less on top of Cheryl and pushed into her, fucking ruthlessly. Julianne sobbed and whispered "Yes, harder! Take me!" and Cheryl was still thrashing and sobbing – I came in Julianne and then all over both of them, and it was like an electric current jolting, through me, over and over. I collapsed, crashing into the bed beside them. 

Julianne fell against me and kissed my face over and over, whispering "Thank you... thank you..."

Cheryl masturbated frantically. I chuckled, darkly, and took Cheryl by the hair and forced her face between Julianne's breasts, and then began to spank Cheryl, fast and hard. She fingered herself to a violent second orgasm and then, as I forced a finger up her ass, a third. Then she just sagged to the bed, and her eyes closed. She looked strangely peaceful. 

Julianne just hugged me.

+++

"Is she ok?" Julianne asked.

I looked over Cheryl, and then listened to her breathing. I stroked a finger lightly across her upper cheek, towards her eye; her eyelid didn't move.

"She's just asleep. Her last orgasm was like a seizure though, wasn't it. We'll stay until she wakes up. Come with me."

We headed for the bathroom, and I started the shower.

"How did you know I wanted to wash off?" Julianne asked.

"Heh. I don't want her on me, either. But mostly the idea is so she can't hear our conversation. Alright, Miss I-don't-know-anything-about-sex, explain all that."

"Um... a lot of that was instinct, and I have no idea where it came from. But I also told you I was with a girl once. She was kind of like that, kind of into being, well, call it what it is, abused. I didn't like it – I still don't – but I kind of get it."

"But you were willing. I mean you have to hate this whole idea..."

"I do. But then I think about how much trouble she's in and that makes it much better."

"Trouble?"

"You know her phone is tapped."

"Yeah. But it's in the lobby. They didn't hear any of this."

"Uh... they know where her phone is. They know she's at a hotel this evening. It's not hard to guess what that means. I mean, come on."

"Beautiful, I'm sure she turned off the location app."

"Did you just call me beautiful? Is that a step up from pretty?"

I considered that. "Kind of, yeah."

"You're a lot harder to hate that you should be," she said, adjusting the water temperature. "Even after tonight. Thank you for not coming in her. That really would have hurt me, I guess I'm the jealous type... I guess it's stupid to ask if you liked having her. She's so hot. Did you... um... sorry, girl question."

"Do you want the honest answer? And think carefully before you say yes."

She did. "Yes," she decided.

"She is in fact fucking hot. Her rape fantasy thing really got me off. This was kind of a perfect one night stand for me, two sexy girls slutting out over me and jealously fighting for my sexual favors. I mean, shit, of course I loved it. But if you mean her personally... she's not my type. She's got a very fine little staircase but there's dry rot and black mold and other bad shit upstairs, if you get my meaning. Her whole stripper mentality and the big performance she made about masturbating... I've seen more convincing porn. I guess I'd put it this way – there's a lot you don't know about sex, but everything you do is totally genuine. I deal with backstabbing people with agendas all day long, but you're upfront and real and even a little innocent and you have no idea how much that appeals to me. But, um, heartwarming confessions of my interests aside... back to the phone thing."

"Yeah, the phone thing. The GPS doesn't matter. When she walked into the hotel the hotel's local network would have picked her phone up. It's tapped, so it would have reported the new network. They know she's here."

I went cold. "Julianne, is my phone tapped?"

"Um... when I get to my phone I'll check. Why would it be?"

I hadn't told her that Suzie mentioned there was an investigation of some kind into Cheryl's dealings and that I was likely being investigated as well. 

"Because I know they were looking into Cheryl's activities, and they're almost certainly watching me too."

"And you came here anyway? With your phone? I mean never even mind your phone, there's a camera in the lobby. They'll know she's here and when, and they'll just check the video. They'll see the three of us together. You've been made, sir. We all have. So... how does this work? I guess her boyfriend is some big deal in the company. Does he punish her... or does he just slap her skank whore face for her, and then come after you?"

"You have asked the big question, sweets. Her boyfriend is high up in the hierarchy, and I don't know how high. And she seems to be a little psycho. Shit, given all this there is no way she gets to keep that video of you."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 05



I walked out. She was still out, but she was muttering in her sleep, flinching and giving little half-sobs. Bad dream, or maybe a good one by her lights, who knows. I grabbed the chip and brought it back to the bathroom. 

A couple of sharp blows with the hotel iron broke it into pieces. I was about to flush them when she grabbed my hand. "No. There's probably still recoverable data on those pieces. You can't dispose of them here. Hotels are Company owned, right? Don't throw it out anywhere here. We have to take them home, and use a blowtorch, unless you happen to have the right acid."

"I don't even have a blowtorch. But I know someone who does. And you know all this from hanging out with soldiers?"

"For ten years. And wars aren't all about guns. They had a shitload – sorry, sir, a lot of training in tracking and surveillance. Also in interrogation and assassination and I won't even talk about that stuff because I get the cold sweats just thinking about what my good sweet soldier friends could be capable of when they needed to be. I maybe never told you that when I was sixteen I was followed by someone from another village. It was beyond creepy, he was being threatening. I ran for help, he chased me, but he vanished when I got to the camp. I told Mikael, and he had Josef stand guard over me. The next day they brought me a finger and promised me no one would ever find the rest of him, except for his liver, which they sent back to his original village for burial."

"Um... what did you do with the finger?"

"I buried it in the local dump. So rats would eat it. They insisted that I had to bury it myself."

"So they gave you the finger. Heh. It sounds like a day at the office, in some ways." I wrapped up the bits of shattered chip in a piece of toilet paper, and put them in a drawer for the moment.

She raised an eyebrow. "A day at the office. Assassination?"

"Don't kid yourself, people have vanished for doing the bad things to Company. The river is deep at points and the Police sometimes have reasons not to investigate some disappearances."

"Scott, you don't think-"

"Relax. Fucking someone's slutty girlfriend might be bad, but they only disappear you if you mess with someone's career, or the Company finances. I may have been stupid and it might cost me something, but not that. And 'Scott' is it?" I ran a fingertip over her face, and then over a breast. "So it's not Sir anymore? Was that getting too impersonal?"

"Stop that, sir. I'm very, very angry about this evening."

"Let's see how angry." I tilted her head back, and stepped closer. She lowered her head again. "Don't. And not because I'm mad, it's just not the right time. You have other things to think-"

I tilted her face back up, and kissed her. 

After a long, slow pause, she kissed me back, with eagerness and emotion that surprised me. Then she was rubbing against me and wrapping her arms around my neck. The kiss became suddenly passionate on both sides.

"He never kisses me like that."

We both jumped.

Cheryl was leaning against the door, naked except for her shoes. "He's older, and... loveless. He can't give me what you give her. But don't let me interrupt."

I would have said something but Julianne was on tiptoes and kissed me again, slowly and affectionately and wantonly. I had to admit I liked Julianne's response to jealousy, and her competitive streak when it came to other women. I sank into it, kissing back. Behind me I heard Cheryl sit up on the counter, and, unmistakably, start to masturbate. Julianne's kiss only became more intense, more insistent. "Ignore the skank", her kiss said, silently. "I'll give you everything you could ever want."

"Can you fuck her again, Mr. Gladgrind, sir?" Cheryl whispered. "Not because I want you to. Because she needs you to. She wants to please you, very much, you know. I don't think it's just the money, either. Take her, sir. Every time you do she becomes more yours, and she knows it. It scares her because she knows about Suzie, and she tries to fight her feelings for you, but it's so hard, isn't it, Julianne... Fuck her, sir. For her sake. I understand what she feels and I'm so very, very jealous. Take her like an animal, but kiss her gently afterwards. It's not the fucking, it's the kiss afterwards. She'll do anything for that kiss, that sincere, affectionate, completely intoxicating kiss..."

Julianne broke the kiss long enough to glare at Cheryl. "You're talking about yourself," she snapped.

Cheryl just masturbated faster. "I know dear. Myself and every other woman. How are you doing it, sweetheart? How are you capturing the insatiable Mr. Gladgrind. He doesn't even know it's happening."

She moaned, and then reached out with a toe, running it over my ass. "Take her, sir. You'll be hard enough, we can guarantee that. Take everything she gives and just a little more, but watch her mouth as you enjoy her. Watch how it begs for the kiss at the end. She can make her face expressionless, but she can't hide that aching need."

Julianne got back to kissing me, insistently and hungrily. Then she reached down and took my cock in her hand, leaned back against the counter, and slowly rubbed it against her slit. My cock ached, but it also hardened. Cheryl moaned, her foot stroking me faster.

Suddenly I had Julianne's wrists up against the mirror, and I pushed in, over and over, kissing her roughly. She wrapped her legs around me, and slid her hand around my cock, making it as much a hand job as fucking, but apparently she'd figured out something about my cock and it worked. She kissed my mouth and worked my cock, and Cheryl's moans and Julianne's frantic gasps, and the stroking of legs, and the way Julianne arched to present her breasts to me, and Cheryl and her reflection masturbating, fucking herself with her fingers and running a hairbrush's bristles over her sexy nipples...

It wasn't much of an orgasm, but I came in Julianne, and then looked down into her face, panting. She looked up, suddenly frightened, and then closed her eyes. Cheryl had been right; her face became expressionless but her lips parted and they didn't know how to lie. I kissed her, gently. 

Julianne whimpered, clinging to me, fighting it; and then kissed back with trembling lips, over and over. Cheryl came.

+++

We all showered off, briefly. I was well and truly fucked out and not even seeing two girls soaping in the shower got a rise out of me. It wasn't a typical fake lesbian porno scene anyway; they didn't look at each other or touch each other, and they were only in there together because I insisted and found it amusing. It had the advantage that they finished quickly; I needed Cheryl out of here.

"Listen up, Cheryl. It looks like someone knows you came here this evening."

"My locator is off, and my boyfriend is out of town."

"Julieanne thinks your phone reports which building it's in, based on local wifi networks. Was your phone on when you walked in?"

"Yes."

"Then you have to assume the worst. Whatever the worst is."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You aren't getting the video of Miss Julianne. But I feel like you should be given something."

"You do have to pay a whore," she said. Not bitterly; she just said it.

"What's your story when you're asked about this?"

"Don't be a fool," she said. "I have to save my skin. You blackmailed me here."

"Don't try it," I said. "I have access to some information about you. I'd have to pay to get it, but you're making it worth my while."

"You're bluffing," she said. She toweled off.

"Late last August. Upstate."

Her eyes narrowed. "Very well. You and your pretty, pretty girlfriend invited me here. He knows I have a weakness for pretty girls. You made her serve me, in exchange for... hm... I'm not going to admit to what I gave you."

"Access to William's business case projections for project Thinloaf."

"Alright. You'll have them tomorrow. They aren't going to make it past the next gate review anyway, but it makes sense you'd want to know that in advance. So it's plausible."

"I also want to know who the boyfriend is."

"Priv-"

"Just tell me, Cheryl. Or I'll spank it out of you. With that hairbrush."

"Fine. Samuel. You've heard of him. Vice President of the Financials for the Americas."

"Well, shit. We are in major trouble, aren't we. But isn't he much too old for you? He's like... sixty."

"Sixty one. He has three pets and we all do what he wants. He can be quite cruel, in that dispassionate upper management way. But I'm financially secure if I stick it out through his retirement."

"What's he going to do about this?"

She pulled her clothing on. Her outfit had the advantage of being quick to take on and off. "I don't know. He's not nice but, let's face it, the only reason he restricts me is so I can hate being restricted, it's not like he takes that much real personal interest."

"Fine. You're quite a whore, Cheryl, but you look good naked and I'd call this a successful evening. Get dressed and get out of here. Make sure you get seen leaving, on the lobby camera."

She nodded, swayed over on her heels, kissed my shoulder, and left.

"If she'd have kissed your face," Julianne said, "I'd have clawed her bloody. What a skank."

I was already climbing into bed. My dick ached. "Get over here."

She curled in against me, and I started to drift.

"About that kiss," she said. "I think we-"

"Miss Julianne."

"Um. Yes?"

"You're very bright and stuff, but sometimes you're also very eighteen. There is a time to talk, and this is not it. Turn that light off, curl in, tangle your pretty legs in mine, and go the fuck to sleep."

"I-"

"Ever been spanked by a hairbrush?"

She kissed my cheek. "Goodnight, sir."



Why I Love My Job Ch. 06



[This chapter contains an unpleasant scene which is sexual but not intended to be erotic, and it's not my usual fare. It make a point and drives events forward, but please read and rate with the understanding that sex is sometimes used in very ugly ways. If you're queasy about such things, once you see mention of the bucket it's time to skim to the section break. There's more traditional (for me) erotica later in the chapter.]

*

"Mr. Gladgrind, A-111039116, to office 4203 immediately."

It didn't just pop up on my phone and holo, it echoed in the room and all over the building. This happened very occasionally, though it had never happened to me. It always meant you were in a great deal of trouble.

I locked the holo and walked straight to the elevators. Floor 42 was the top floor. I'd never been there and I'd never been curious about it. I found it interesting that as I approached the elevators, one opened and lit the Up marker. No one else was in it, and no one else got in with me. I stepped in and the door closed.

When I stepped out, after an almost dizzying ascent, a girl was waiting. She was extremely pretty, in an outfit that looked painted on -- I looked again, and it was in fact sprayed-on latex -- and she was obviously aroused. I diagnosed Madrigal use. It wasn't clear to me why you'd have a secretary on Mad -- other than the obvious reason, and then you wouldn't have her roaming the halls.

"Number, sir?" she breathed.

"A-111039116".

She licked her lips. "Follow me, sir."

She had one of those perfect asses and she swayed when she walked. It bothered me that I was so worried I barely noticed.

She paused at a door that was a vast panel of hand-carved mahogany, with what looked like gold inlay. She stood in front of it and put her hands behind her back, and a small light in the ceiling over her blinked on. She shivered, arching her back further.

"A-111039116 is here to see you, Sir."

The panel slid to the left. She whimpered softly and licked her lips, but stepped to the side. "Enter, sir," she whispered.

The office looked something like an Italian villa from the late renaissance, not that I was an expert. The ceiling was a beaten copper dome, with goal leaf decoration. The walls looked like alabaster, some of it glowing in floor to ceiling strips, providing the room's lighting. Bas relief and gilt paint was everywhere. The floor looked like polished malachite with black onyx inlay, with roughhewn oak plank for the high traffic areas. To the left was a swimming pool, to the right was what amounted to a small sunken theater with comfortable chairs and couches, a bar and kitchenette -- it reminded me of our room in the basement, but done with a better budget. Dead ahead was a massive mahogany desk, trimmed in what looked like silver. There was a holo built into the surface of the desk, but it was off. There was also a bullwhip on the desk, which made me blink. Maybe that was why the secretary had whimpered. I almost did myself.

"Approach," said the man behind the desk. He had a cordial smile, a neatly trimmed beard and close cropped head of grey hair with a trace of black in it, and the kind of blue eyes that people call piercing. He didn't wear a suit -- it looked like a silk dressing gown, in very dark blue.

When I got near the desk, a panel in the floor opened, and an ornate chair rose out of it. He gestured and I sat.

"Mr Gladgrind. Over ten years with the company, work quality varying between adequate and sterling, with a reputation for engaging in side deals and negotiations with people inside the company. A climber, with considerable ego and a willingness to backstab as needed. Considered loyal, but largely to your paycheck and perks, perhaps not so much to the ideals of the Company." He raised his eyes.

"That's... fair, sir. But the ideals of the Company as I understand them are to make money, and I help there in every way I can."

"At your level, that understanding of the Company's goals is common and even encouraged," he said. "But to enlarge your vision a bit, we're actually a force for Social Stability. That's why we exist. We are a power created to manage societal behaviour in ways a Government can't. Profit is simply the fee we impose on everyone else to do that necessary work."

"That's fascinating, Sir. But it seems askew to the point of my visit here."

"You are a man that likes to get down to it, I see. A point in your favor. But the apparent digression from our main business is being made for a reason, Gladgrind. Stability -- order -- an imposition of our will upon a clueless herd of beings we call society -- is the core pillar of our corporate identity, our guiding principle... as such it is woven into our mission and a part of all we do. To that end, we require certain characteristics from the employees, at least those with the capability of rising. One is, of course, utter ruthlessness. You don't get an office like this one without it. Another is respect for authority. There is no order without obedience and respect, Mr. Gradgrind. Respect is assumed. Where it is lacking, there are really only two choices. We either teach it, or we terminate employees we deem unfit to learn it."

"I... see, Sir." I wasn't being fired; I wouldn't have been brought to this office for that.

"You don't. But I guarantee you will. The girl, Gladgrind. The little cunt named Cheryl. She does not mean a great deal to me. She does not rank highly in my esteem, because while she is a bit of a schemer, she's weak and lacks the drive to excel and achieve. She thinks she is better than she is, and as a result she fails in the key area of respect. As have you."

"I will say, Sir, that at no time did I have any idea of disrespect. I knew she'd become property of someone else, but I didn't know who."

"I am aware, Gladgrind. It amused her to treat her mysterious relationship with me as a bargaining chip, in effect using another's authority as an implicit threat. I permitted that because it kept boys like you away from her and kept her out of the rough and tumble of our daily business. But then she went off and dipped her toe where it didn't belong. You did some dipping as well, likewise where it didn't belong. You did it with someone else's property -- you knew that much, but you didn't stop to find out who's -- and that is where the lack of respect was revealed."

"Can you prove that dipping occurred, Sir?" I wanted to know how much she spilled.

He smiled, thinly. "She's made a full confession, Gladgrind. She couldn't help it. She's been assigned to a Special Project, you see."

My blood ran cold.

"Yes, Sir. I see."

"You don't. But this may help clarify things."

A panel of the alabaster wall suddenly became a holo. In it, Cheryl was strapped to a wall, and devices were hooked to her. Something like a vibrator was attached to her, and so were many other devices. A technical was nearby, adjusting a dial.

There was no sound, but she was staring sightlessly, convulsing in her bonds, and screaming.

The holo vanished.

"You will, of course, have heard of the X series of drugs. It's an area of ongoing research. She is assisting in that research, as you saw. After each bit of assistance, she's asked some questions about her various deals, her coworkers, and anything else we might ever care to know. She's being quite generous with her observations."

"Is she going to live, Sir?"

"Of course she's going to live," he said, testily. "She fucked around, but she didn't misappropriate any significant funds or reveal anything to the Media. Have a sense of proportion, Gladgrind. Dead people can't serve the needs of the Company. When we're done with her she'll probably end up as one of the secretaries on this floor; or if she can't manage those demands, we'll keep her for various ongoing experiments in the X research."

Those were her options? A secretary on this floor - by all appearances they permanently drugged, or just so broken that they might as well be, serving nine to six as living art, sex slaves... Cheryl didn't deserve that. And an experimental subject... that was news to me. I'd heard the Company paid for the services of the very poor in other parts of the world, under less strict Governments, for human trials. But assigning employees to that work...

"But I trust you have no further interest in what becomes of her. Interest of that sort would be heavily discouraged, Gladgrind. Special Projects are by definition Confidential."

"She was never more than an entertainment, Sir."

"On that we can agree. A fine example of the female form, and -- assuming this week's Special Project goes well -- a girl with a promising future as a very willing entertainer in just the sense you allude to. But not truly capable of much more. Between you and I, Gladgrind, women so rarely are. The Government is constantly nagging us to improve the percentage of women in our highest ranks. We would do it gladly if they only had the vision, the ambition, the ruthless drive required to pour their soul into the work here. But they insist on teaming together in packs, never letting an individual shine; and you can barely get one to think strategically. And they are never competitive enough in business matters. When the time comes to turn on their helpful and trusting fellows, they just can't seem to find the will... well, never mind. I'm sure you're aware of their strengths and limitations. And now we truly are off topic, and you've indicated that you are a man who likes to get down to it."

"Yes Sir. I'd like to assure you that there won't be more trouble from me."

"A platitude, Gladgrind. I propose to ensure there is no more trouble of this sort. Lessons have to be driven home, you know." He pressed a button on his desk. Two armed men walked in through a hidden alabaster door, approached my suddenly shivering form, and grabbed me by the arms. The next thing I knew I was dragged around behind chair, and bent over the back of it, facing my host.

"I know you've taken a general interest in the X research, Gladgrind. I consider that interest reasonable, given the relative importance of drugs to the company's economic future. In keeping with that, I'm going to give you an additional insight into a recently developed drug."

A knife was drawn, and my pants were slashed open, effortlessly, and fell away. In the meantime, two more guards walked out, escorting a half-naked man, drooling, muttering, ugly and fat and sporting one of the largest, fattest erections I'd ever seen. His hands were handcuffed behind his back. One of the guards had a bucket.

"The techs jokingly call it Gay X, because in men it has the property of raising sexual desire to an extreme, while simultaneously rendering the subject completely uncaring, concerning who or what they sate themselves on. The name is a terrible misnomer, of course, but the techs find it amusing that while on this drug, the straightest of men will fuck another man if they can't relieve themselves any other way. Meet Freddie, by the way. Freddie was a little, ah, indiscriminate even before we dosed him. Drugged, of course, he'll fuck anything. That makes him useful."

I struggled, but manacles slid out from the sides of the chair and I was bound with them. My ankles were next.

"The drug is not very useful, commercially, as it turns out. A man dosed with it immediately masturbates himself to a series of orgasms until he's pumped himself dry and physically raw. There's no refractory period. We'd hoped it could be used on violent sex offenders, making them sate themselves to the point where there was no interest in anyone else; but it turns out that sex offenders are motivated by hate and simply beat other people if they can't rape them. So no viable market opportunity there."

I was bound hand and foot, and the bucket was placed on the floor in front of me.

"The bucket, Mr. Gladgrind. If at any point you become nauseous, relieve your stomach into the bucket. Don't get any on the floor. Malachite tile doesn't tolerate stomach acid well, and you wouldn't want to piss me off by staining my floor."

A handful of something cold was applied to my ass. Some of it got in and it stung so agonizingly I sweated, and sagged in my bonds. Freddie was positioned two steps behind me, and started making an obscene grunting and panting.

"That was a trace of lubricant, some alcohol and a variety of disinfectants, and a sensitizer. No X drug for you, of course. Even if there was a drug in the world that could make this pleasant, it would spoil the point..."

Freddie was allowed to move forward. I'm not going to describe what it felt like.

My host walked over to me, bent down a little, took me by the hair and pulled up, looking at my face.

"Respect, Gladgrind. It is a core principle. We demand it here. I'm happy to beat it into you any way that sticks. Agony, humiliation, whatever it takes." His free hand slapped my face. "You fuck with me and... well I'm sure the point is becoming painfully clear. I mentioned a man on this drug will do himself raw? You're not in for a pleasant half hour, but I feel certain you're going to learn from this. You'll check to find out who you're fucking with next time. Don't misunderstand me. Miss Cheryl is not an issue at this point. You can have what's left of her, assuming she makes a proper recovery... ah, I see he's not all the way in yet. And he's getting very impatient. Try to relax, Gladgrind, the faster he's in, the faster he'll start filling you full of cum and then the faster he gets to the angry, vicious, frustrated humping stage- the bucket, Mr Gladgrind, don't miss-"

You get the gist. When they finally dragged him off me, I was limp in my bonds, dry heaving, and drenched in a sick sweat. I heard my host moving around, and then heard a strange swishing sound.

"A final little lesson, Mr Gladgrind. I was quite good with this in my younger days. Alas, my aim is not what it used to be. In fact, these days I find it's safest to aim at what I don't want to hit...."

I whimpered. The whip was no longer on the desk, and he was behind me.

"A whip, of course, doesn't do more than cut and tear skin, though the tearing can be surprisingly extensive. There are only three places a whip will cut quite deeply, do you know what they are?"

A swishing sound, followed by a crack, off to my left. He chuckled.

"The two eyes, of course. The third... well, let's just say that bent far over like that, you had better hope I don't hit dead center. No one wants a lot of permanent damage, not to mention the blood... don't move, Mr Gladgrind. My aim is questionable enough, and errors can cancel you know-"

Shish... crack!

"Holy fucking shit!" I sobbed. "Fuck, fuck-"

"Two inches off. In other words that could have been a great deal worse for you. There, I think that will do. Thank you for your time, Mr Gladgrind. I know we're all busy as hell, but I think this has been both important and mutually beneficial. I take an almost fatherly interest in my employees, you know. It falls to upper management to keep everything on the straight and narrow, and I do take a certain pride in getting real and lasting results. It's a calling... Guards, drag him to the nurse. Mr Gladgrind, remember if you find it necessary to see a private physician, you must use the proper forms -- Workplace Accident -- if you expect to be reimbursed. Oh... and this conversation is Company Confidential, you will not discuss any details of our discussion or the disciplinary actions taken... Do enjoy the rest of your day, Mr Gladgrind."

The panel closed in my face.

+++

The nurse, an unsympathetic and unsmiling fellow who had apparently seen this before, did a cursory examination and said I'd recover, but told me he was unable to prescribe painkillers and suggested I try an ice pack, and avoid aspirin. My suit pants and underwear had been ruined and not returned, but he was able to provide me a pair of pajama bottoms of the sort used in hospital stays, and I spent the next ten minutes staggering to my car while avoiding being seen by anyone. When I got to it, I realized the car was also Julianne's ride home. I cursed, but... she lived with me and she was going to find out anyway. I flipped open my phone.

"Yes, sir," she answered.

"Can you legally operate a car, Miss Julianne?"

"Yes sir." The worry in her voice was clear; she'd have heard my name announced like everyone else.

She requested video, which I denied. Her voice got unsteady. "Are you ok?"

"I've been better. Come to the car, sweetheart."

She clicked off. She didn't comment on me calling her sweetheart, which told me she'd figured out I was in bad shape and was making haste to find me. I got into the car and knelt on the passenger seat. Sitting was not an option.

She was there in two minutes, took one look at me and gasped, "What the fuck-"

"Language," I said, weakly. I wasn't as damaged as I felt, but shock had settled in.

"You're bleeding!"

"It's not as bad as it looks. Get me home."

She settled in and thumbed Home. The car (and the law) insisted someone had to sit in the driver's seat and be able to manage the manual brake if anything went wrong, but nothing ever did, so her duties were trivial. She turned to look at me.

"I'm not a doctor, but I know shock when I see it. Were you stabbed?" There was a tiny edge of hysteria in her voice.

"No. Whipped. Among other things."

"What the- that's legal?"

"I doubt it, but this doesn't get told to anyone else, not the Police, not the Media, no one."

"You need a doctor."

"No. Not yet anyway. I need to be home."

She looked at me, and she looked like tears were near the surface. "Did you hear that Miss Cheryl has gone missing?"

"I know where she is. She has it much worse than I do. She'll be away for a week and then she'll probably be reassigned. She's also been dumped by her boyfriend, but at this point that's probably the brightest star in her sky."

"This is insane."

"I thought you didn't like her?"

"I- sir- why won't you let me use profanity? I need it right now. I didn't like her because she was hot and screwing around with someone I -- I mean, she was competition for- Bleh! Never mind why. But once I get past that I feel sorry for her. She traded away everything for financial security and she was so miserable, so dead inside. You must have seen it."

"Now she doesn't even have the financial security."

"Tell me."

"I can't. Company confidential, believe it or not."

"Tell me!"

"Sweetheart, she kind of betrayed you, sort of. In the girl world doesn't that mean enemies forever?"

"No. I mean, normally, maybe, but there's a deeper girl rule and it has to do with bad men, common enemies. He hurt you, he's hurting her. I'm required to suspend any dislike. It's the rules. What is he doing to her?"

"Are you familiar with the X project?"

"No."

"Experimental drugs. Like Madrigal but with more... interesting... side effects. There are a lot of them, and they all fuck with people, usually sexually. There's one called Black X... think of the intense arousal of Mad, but add an inability to shut off fantasies and fears. Are you turned on and frightened by rape? Then you'll helplessly fantasize rape, and it will seem almost real to you. It's intensely erotic and often intensely terrifying. Bind a woman, dose her, toy with her... she'll come with amazing intensity, but it can do permanent emotional harm and it's addictive. That one is distributed on the black market and makes a lot of money, but it's candy compared to some of the current research. She's now being used in that research, and when I saw Cheryl she was bound and screaming- alright, I have to stop talking. I'm pretty fucked over right now."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 06



"This is not right," she whispered. "I saw things in the war that weren't this bad."

I didn't reply. We'd all joked about how the company fucked people over, how fundamentally evil it was. Just idle chatter. Even knowing about the very occasional disappearances, I'd never considered the depth of the evil before. Things had indeed been driven home.

She got me to my bed and had a look. The indrawn breath she took made me queasy. "I know what causes that," she whispered.

"Please tell me not from personal experience."

"No. The war again. This happened to captured prisoners and sometimes women who tried to find their men. You aren't bleeding from there so maybe it's not as bad as it looks but sir, I'll never complain about a spanking again." She blotted me up -- which nearly made me pass out - and creamed and bandaged the whip mark.

I lay on my side. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me, softly.

"Baby, you can't imagine I'm good for much right now."

"Shut up," she said. "This is all I know what to do to make you feel better." She kissed me again, gently and miserably. I had to admit it helped.

+++

An hour in bed, and my shock receded, so I tried a shower. It wasn't pleasant, but I needed to get Freddie off of me or I'd throw up again. She brought me toast afterwards, and we worked out cushions that let me sit down.

"So tomorrow you just go back to work?"

"If I can sit. It's a living. Got to pay for the ginger and fresh vegetables for my baby."

She gave a confused and sad little laugh. "This is cheating, you know. I'm still trying to hate you, and now I'm beautiful and your sweetheart and baby, and you're hurt, and I can't even tell you how fucking unfair it is because I get spanked for language like that."

"Don't mess with edge cases, baby. I can't spank you now but there's always tomorrow."

"Um... can I ask if anal sex is permanently off the table? Because you see how unpleasant it can be."

I winced as my stomach clenched. "Maybe someday we can try anal sex, and I'll spend an hour on the foreplay. But you will never, ever have to worry about anal rape. Damnit, girl, I know I'm a monster but there's still a difference between me, and..."

"..and what passes for leadership in the Company and Government?"

"You're too young to be that cynical."

"Ha. War, and now this. The only way I'm still innocent at all is sexually, and that's not going to last long around you."

"I think you'll get a couple days off, in regard to that issue."

She paused. "That should thrill me. It bugs me that it doesn't. And why I just told you that, I don't know."

I shifted, but there were no comfortable positions. "I will tell you the truth, Julianne. The fact that you tell me what you feel, honestly and nakedly... that holds my attention tighter than your boobs ever will."

"I'll work on the boob thing. There are some nice padded bras for sale-"

"You know what I mean. And don't you ever wear a padded bra. I'm all about truth in advertising."

She kissed me again. "If we're being all honest... you make me feel very, very eighteen. I felt so grown up until I met you. What do you want with a child?"

"Gladgrind, noted pedophile. Don't be absurd, sweetheart. You don't look eighteen, you generally don't sound eighteen, and you've seen stuff that makes you more mature than many girls I know. I've done much worse than you."

"Pedophilia is for prepubescent girls. There's a name for guys that like girls my age, but I don't know what it is."

I closed my eyes. "The general term is chronophilia, fascination with partners of certain ages. For an age difference like this one, I'd be considered borderline ephebophilia. Except usually I go for slightly older girls, so I think we can forget the labels. You're legal anyway, that's all that matters to me."

"Sir, I want to ask some things. Maybe with you hurting so much, this isn't the right time."

"It might distract me from the unpleasantness." I was shaking again. It was not so much the pain as the trauma.

"Alight. I... " she blushed "I don't know what we are. And if you call me property it doesn't help, because I don't know what that means."

"Girls always want definitions. Guys don't like definitions."

"I need to know. You pretty much clubbed me over the head and dragged me to your cave. Now what?"

"What do you feel when I kiss you? And remember, you're totally honest."

She looked down. "A longing to kiss back. Maybe you don't know how intense it is. You probably do. I can't hate you. I tried. You deserve it. But I can't. And when you kiss me I ache to... to... please you, to kiss back as sweet and hot as I can. And I feel like I don't even know how to kiss, and the next time Suzie or a Cheryl or anyone else comes along-"

I kissed her. She mewled and pressed herself against me, rubbing her breasts against me, her lips moving softly and urgently over mine. She couldn't make the physical pain in my body fade, but the shock and horror melted away.

She shifted back and took off her blouse. "Would... would kissing my breasts help? I read somewhere that men find it comforting..."

"That's a little too infantile for me. But cupping your breast in my hand, like this, makes me feel protective and more peaceful. Your first guess was the best one, though. Keep kissing me."

"I wanted to hate you, so much," she whispered. And her mouth moved over mine, and I cupped and slowly massaged her breast, and even the pain receded, a little.

+++

Julianne was transferred to work in a different department for two weeks, which terrified me, but I investigated, and it looked like a genuine and temporary staffing move. It meant I spent a couple of days at home alone, recovering... which gave me time to think.

After ten days I got a call. It was Cheryl and she made it clear she needed to tell me something in private and in confidence. I drove over.

+++

"Mr. Gladgrind... I'll be right out. Make yourself comfortable."

Her new apartment was small and dark, but well furnished. I had the impression that the Company had settled money on her to keep her quiet. She had wide windows that looked out on the city. The moon was rising through the city's haze; a pretty sight.

"What is this about, Miss Cheryl."

"We have things to discuss. You know I was away for a time, right?"

"Yes. I know what happened to you, in a general way, in fact. I think you must know that?"

"I'd guessed. I'd like to give you some... specifics." The door opened, and she stepped out.

She was in red high heels and a red, diaphanous, gown, with nothing underneath. Her smile was a hot and wicked thing, and she raised her eyes to mine, slowly and sensuously. "But first I have a question, sir. Have you ever had fantasies about raping a woman?"

I eyed her. "Every man does, Miss Cheryl. But I'll just say it... from the looks of things, you can't be raped. You can't rape the willing."

"Very true, sir." She moved beside me, sat, and then draped her leg across mine, stroking it over my thighs, slowly. I was instantly hardening.

Her style was different -- more purely sexual, less theatrical. She leaned forward, bringing the barely covered nipples up to my mouth. "But there's a way I can give you your fantasy -- and fulfill one of mine."

I ran my hand along her leg. She purred, softly.

"You're different, Cheryl."

"Yes. They did things that changed me. Experiments. I'm always aroused now, Mr. Gladgrind. Like the secretaries on the top floor. And my body produces a perfume now. Do you smell it? It's faint, but it's always there. It makes me more sexually appealing to men, not because of the scent itself, but something mixed in it... anywhere I go now, no matter how I dress, men notice me, men act more sexually around me. It drives me insane. I can't escape sexuality anymore. And I don't want to. There are other changes. Kiss my mouth, or go down on me, and you get a dose of Hard Night. You've heard the rumors? It's about the perfect sex drug for men -- you'll be rigid, no refractory period, you'll be able to go for hours, but it doesn't take your sanity away like some of the X drugs. Kiss me for awhile and you'll be able to do me until you fall asleep of exhaustion. Kiss me, sir. I promise you I don't object."

Part of me was horrified, but part of me was turned on, hard. The Company has always been a highly sexualized place, but it was obvious that we were now developing idealized fucktoys. Madrigal had changed the world; this was going to change it again.

I ran my thumbs, lightly, along the insides of her thighs. "Why the question about rape."

"You know why. I've been given an endless supply of a variant of Black X. I'm an addict now. I need men and a certain kind of sexuality or the cravings get so bad I can't think straight. But it's not the sort of drug that you take when you're alone. You know what it does, I'm sure."

"It unleashes fantasies and makes them nearly real."

"Only fantasies involving fears and needs. It opens up the dark corners of the mind. And now you understand the question I asked. I have rape fantasies, and the drug makes them emerge. You're right, you can't rape the willing... but on that drug I feel fear, I'll struggle, panic, I'll fantasize there are multiple men here. You'll have to pin me down, but when you do... all I ask is that you don't beat me. When we spent the night, you were... just the right kind of ruthless, without brutality. You saw how I responded to you. I'll respond much harder now. You'll like it."

My hands slid up her torso -- her skin was oiled, slippery and smooth, and my thumbs worked her nipples. She was trembling now.

"I promise you I don't need foreplay anymore, sir. It's kind of you to turn me on, but there's drugs for that now. Isn't that every man's dream?"

"Some men, maybe. I like the hands-on approach. I have a cruel streak, Miss Cheryl. I love getting a female so needy she begs, but I like to control the process myself."

"I'm begging now, sir. They taught me to be less... mouthy, they called it. Less demanding and more pleading. It's taking all my self-control not to reach into your pants and stroke you. I'm aching to be kissed and it's harder than you know not to throw myself into your lap. I'm a toy now, sir. A living plaything."

"And you aren't angry?"

"That's where it gets really fucked up. I've been... I mean you can't even call it rape, it's something worse. But it shattered me. I fear men now but I'm so broken I can't even feel anger. And there's no pleasure like what I feel when I'm used. I want it, over and over. I'm looking for men -- several men -- who I can trust enough to play with me, so I can feed my addiction every day. It's going to take more than one man, no one man can keep up with me. You're the first I'm asking."

I took out my cock. She stared at it, hands trembling.

"The... changes they made in you. Was it only done with drugs?"

"No. There was minor surgery. Why?"

"A world full of women like is you a cock's heaven, but it's not good for society. If they can do to all women what they did to you, just with drugs, we'd be heading for a fucked up world. There'd be no stopping it."

"They said the same about Madrigal, once."

"They did. And I'm not convinced we don't live in a fucked up world."

Moaning, her hands slipped forward and wrapped around my cock. I pulled them off. "You'll get that when I get answers."

She lifted her hands to her nose and inhaled. "T-then you aren't asking questions fast enough." She gave a mirthless smile. "Interrogate me. Apply the drug to me and bind me and ruthlessly interrogate me. Interrogation and rape... That fantasy has made me moan since I was first spanked. On the drug, it becomes... well, real."

"That explains the jar of silk ties behind you."

"Silk and nanorubber. They are very strong, and they have to be cut off with a knife. They won't untie once tied."

"Where is the drug?"

"There's a vial and a brush in the drawer in the table behind you. You know how to apply it?"

"No."

"Brush it on my nipples, then on my lips, and then, when I'm shaking, work the rest into my pussy. I'll... lose contact with reality, kind of. Not like a hallucinogen exactly, but I become... suggestible. You'll figure it out."

I leaned forward, took her by the throat, and pushed her back on the couch. Her arms crossed over head and her legs opened, wide. She arched, and licked her lips, shivering and waiting.

I found the vial -- among a collection of toys that I'd explore shortly - and unscrewed the top. It had a soft brush applicator. "You're now mine, Cheryl. I'm going to toy with you, use you, and push you aside. You don't mean anything to me; you're simply a toy that gets played with sometimes." I opened the thin cloth over her torso, and gripped her hair as I stroked her nipples shiny with the clear, thin drug. Her lips parted, and she mewled in anticipation and fear.

"Yes, sir. That is how I want it, sir."

"Don't lick your lips." I applied it, slowly, very slowly, over her upper lips, and then her shaking, outthrust lower one.

"I want... I want to lick it-"

"I'll punish you if you do."

That got a soft moan. I grabbed a handful of the silk ties, and bound her wrists, and then her ankles, to the convenient woodwork of the couch's frame.

Then I found her phone and shut it down, and locked her door. The key went in my pocket, and I walked back to her.

Her eyes changed, slowly. Larger, darker... I could see the fear filling them. I wrapped a silk tie around her throat, not as a binding, simply so she'd feel a slight choking sensation. Then I went to her kitchen and found a sharp knife. When I got back she was moaning. It worked fast.

"Please sir... I'm scared. I'm so scared!"

I sorted through the collection of toys in her drawer. A vibrator, a vibrating dildo, a violet wand of all things, nipple clamps, a tickleator-

"Are you ticklish, miss?"

"Please don't -- I hate it-"

Of course. I looked further -- a mask, a blindfold, a set of suction devices that looked suitable for multiple uses, and a flexible rod labeled "anal explorer," which I decided was staying where it was.

I tied the blindfold around her. She licked her lips, and whispered "Scared-"

"Shut up unless you want to be slapped. You'll tell me what I want to know, and otherwise you'll be silent."

I opened the cloth over her hips, letting her outfit pool on either side of her. I left the shoes on -- fucking a woman in heels has always worked for me.

I'd never used a tickleator; they were illegal now. I turned it on low and held it over the palm of my hand; the tiniest of warm prickles washed over my hand; it was very pleasant. I turned it up a little. It was like being stroked very lightly my fingernails, but dozens at once. I turned it up further and then instantly pulled it away. Too much.

I turned it down a little, and passed it over her belly. She gasped, twisting. I moved it up her side and along her armpit, and she started to spasm. I turned it up, slowly.

The gasping, then whimpering, then horrified laughter... I turned it to full. Screams of laughter erupted, mixed with pleas for mercy, and I ran it over her breasts, underarms, the backs of her knees, and then slowly down her leg... it worked through shoes, I learned, and she thrashed so desperately I thought she'd hurt herself. Then the inside of her thighs -- her shudders became continuous -- and then over her clit -- shrieks of laughter mixed with sobs of mercy and pleading for cock.

I turned it off suddenly, and applied the drug to her clit. She kept writhing.

"Hold still, bitch. Do I have to... hurt you?"

For me, this was amusing role play. From her breathing, it was already something more. I poured a little of the drug into her slit, and worked it with my finger. Her moan was an animal thing. I turned the lights off, disrobed and looked her over. She was shaking now.

"Scared- so scared-"

I slapped her across the face. She moaned again. "I'll be good -- you don't h-have to h-hurt me... I'll be so good..."

I put the last of the drug on my cock, and forced her to lick it off. "You're going to tell me everything I want to know. I'm not afraid to slap and fuck it out of you."

"Please- please no-

The room was dimly lit from the windows, and it occurred to me that the people in the building across the street could have quite an interesting view with something as simple as opera glasses. To encourage that, I found a small desk lamp and arranged it to shine dimly on her torso.

"You've been kidnapped," I said, as an experiment.

Immediately her whimpering became frantic.

"I have questions to ask you. But I'm not in a hurry. First I'm going to toy with your naked, helpless body. At points you'll be required to please me. Do it well. At points you'll feel pain. Bear it quietly or it will get much more intense."

That was pure bluff; I'm just not into inflicting anything more intense than a good hard spanking. But playing the bad guy kidnapper was more fun than I'd expected. I could see her pulse in her nipples, and wetness was pooling between her legs.

"Whatever else you are... you're a slut and you're going to be fucked. Over and over. You won't come. You're here to provide two things -- information and a good time for cock. You will do everything you can to make me happy, because you won't like what happens if I'm unhappy."

I drew my fingernails over her belly. She thrashed in her bonds, trying to cower away from my hand. I clawed lightly over her nipples, which were already so hard they looked like strawberries, and then very gently pinch down on one. She howled through her gag.

"Be quiet," I snapped, pinching the other one, and then pulling up, slowly. She arched to relieve the tension, and I twisted it back and forth. "Or you'll have things to cry about."

I took out the vibrating dildo, and without warning slid it into her. She convulsed again, and I turned it on, low.

"You won't come until permitted to," I told her. Then I picked up the violet wand, plugged it in, and turned it on. It gave a soft, evil hiss, and she screamed.

"I see you know what this is," I said. "How much can you stand...?"

I tapped it against my hand, not willing to do anything to her without knowing how much it hurt. After a few adjustments I got a sharp sting out of it. It made a disturbing little crackling noise when it arced, and she flinched each time she heard it. I applied it to her belly, without warning. Then a thigh, then the base of her breast, her nose, between her ass cheeks, her throat...

She was sobbing frantically.

"The voltage goes much higher... We could make a deal, Miss Cheryl. We'll make a lot of deals tonight. If you kiss me the way I like to be kissed -- slowly, wantonly, the way a slut kisses when she's begging to be fucked -- I might turn it off. Have you ever kissed a rapist, miss?"

Frantic moaning. I zapped her nipple, and got a scream. I lowered it slowly towards the other, watching the spark gather and suddenly arc. Another scream, and then she was crying through the gag.

"I think you will kiss me now," I hissed in her ear. She nodded frantically, and I removed the gag. I turned off the wand, but continued to stroke her nipples with it, as she kissed my mouth.

"I can turn it back on right now, slut. Kiss hotter."

Terror makes women kiss well, I learned. I fucked her mouth with my tongue, and slid the vibrator in and out of her. "You see," I whispered against her lips. "When you're a good girl there are rewards. What a sweet mouth you have. I'm going to enjoy making you choke on my cock. We'll go back and forth... you'll feel a burning desire to come, then terror, then the desire again... you're going to be so obedient when I'm done with you, slut. You'll crawl and beg and offer yourself. You'll give my friends and I everything we want...."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 06



I slid the violet wand down her torso, between her legs... and slipped the tip, slowly, into her asshole. "Don't move. You don't want that to break and you don't want it to turn on by mistake. Don't move at all."

The wand had a safety switch, and I locked it, since an accident would have been incredibly painful, and this was only about threats. The wand looked sturdy, but I wrapped my toes around the cord so I could yank it away from her if she forgot and started thrashing.

I pushed the dildo in deeper and turned to high, and then slowly licked and sucked her lips as I worked her nipples between my fingers. Her kisses were unbelievably hot, and her breathing became a desperate panting, then frantic gasping. After a few minutes she began to struggle to hold her orgasm back; I only chuckled and began fucking her with the dildo, and nibbling on her lower lip.

Slowly, she began to arch-

"I will turn on the shocker if you come. Hold utterly still no matter what."

"P-pl-please-" she begged. I pushed the dildo in deep, twisting it inside her, and watched her struggle with not squeezing down on it -- if she did, she'd come.

I picked up the other vibrator, turned it on high, and ground it against her clit, and gave her mouth very, very gentle, wet kisses.

Animal moans and cries, and she shuddered from head to toe-

"PLEASE! I MUST! PLEASE!"

I took the vibrators away, removed the wand, turned it on high and touched it rapidly and randomly all over her body -- under her arms, against her belly, her throat, her palm, her clit, and then slowly across her breast towards her nipple. "I expect obedience," I snarled. "Why can't you learn that?"

"I can! I can! I will!"

"I don't believe you. Maybe this belongs up your ass after all..." I slid it down her belly, listening to it crackle and spark.

"I'll be good!" she sobbed.

My cock was stone hard and throbbing urgently. I hadn't exactly believed her when she said her kisses were drugged, but this was a magnificent erection, and the smell, feel and sight of her was turning me into a raging current of need. I gagged her again, and shocked her all over her shivering, pink skin; her terrified shuddering became wordless pleas for use. Suddenly I tossed the wand aside and forced myself into the warmest, wettest, most inviting slit imaginable. Fuck it felt good! She writhed, frantic to please me, incoherent words trapped by the gag. I love a pretty face, but I had to admit that fucking a blindfolded, gagged woman was burning hot. It reduced her to something to use and come in, and as men so rarely admit, that's what we want women to be during sex. I shifted on my elbows, taking her sensual breasts in my hands, and squeezing down. "Squeeze my cock when I squeeze your tits," I snarled, panting. She nodded frantically. Just a minute of that and my orgasm became inevitable, that glorious feeling of pressure and fullness and gushing and oh FUCK-

I poured into her, snarling. She didn't come, but she thrashed in hunger.

As soon as I was done I pulled out, picked up the wand, and shocked her lower lip, then her belly again. This was supposed to be torture, after all. To my surprise she nearly came, and got closer on each shock.

I took the wand away, and just breathed for a moment, looking at her.

I didn't fully understand why this had been done to her. Petty revenge explained a lot, but she seemed to have accepted her fate. She'd been made the perfect fuck toy, but the man that arranged it wasn't fucking her, and had left her for others to find. I shook her head. She'd been screwed with, but if the idea had been to make her miserable, had it really worked? Maybe she was an object lesson to other people. No, she wasn't allowed to talk about what happened to her; I was a special case because I already knew the details. Did the vice president merely get off on breaking women? Sure, I could see that, but then he'd want her around. And he hadn't arranged it that way.

I traced my hand over her belly. She shuddered, trying to tilt her hips, trying to get my hand between her legs. She was desperate.

Unbelievably, I was getting hard again. I'd fooled around with performance enhancing drugs one or twice, but they were nothing like this. Whatever drug her kiss imparted, it kicked ass.

In a way, she was the perfect Service Girl now. Guaranteed pleasure for any man, just a kiss and a fuck away, and she was impossibly eager to give that pleasure. I'd read historical accounts -- or maybe they were fictional, it was hard to know what the publishing arm of the Company altered and suppressed and exaggerated in the books it sold -- where girls had been addicted to drugs and then made to provide sex to get their fixes. This was more or less the same thing. But the Company didn't have an economic interest in Services; the one thing it couldn't sell was human labor. It wasn't going to field an army of Cheryl-like whores.

Of course there'd be huge money in selling a procedure that made women like this, but she said it required surgery. The logistics of doing this to unwilling women on even a small scale would be a deal breaker. And it would never be legal.

I thought about it a bit, and a clearer picture emerged. The research was going somewhere; I had to assume upper management had a business model in mind and were after something that would make tons of money, because that was their fixed function. It didn't matter what it was, but they needed ongoing research to get there, and drug trials. Cheryl had fucked up, so they used her for their trials, and then... nothing. They kept her employed, provided drug to her, and moved on. She wasn't being punished per se. She'd been used and then cast aside, irrelevant and forgotten.

It was worse than punishment and worse than malice. At least malice is something you focus on a person; it was personal. This was purely impersonal. She was literally a toy now, left on the floor for anyone to find. And possibly step upon.

She was an irresistible toy though. My cock was throbbing again. I was a machine. I got on her again, pushed in -- fuck yes, I'd do this until I dropped from exhaustion-

I took her hard, ignoring her incoherent pleading for mercy, and just let myself come again, in her and on her. Then I stroked the vibrator low on her belly.

"Interrogation time. Answer my questions and you'll get to come. Give me any trouble and coming will be the last thing on your mind. Nod if you understand."

She nodded.

I experimented with the suction devices on her nipples. They made her extremely eager to come, but couldn't put her over the edge. Perfect.

I hit her with question after question, edging her with the vibrator when she answered, touching her randomly with the wand when she hesitated. In her drugged state, the wand was much more terrifying than it should have been and it always got instant answers when I applied it. In a half hour I knew more about her sexual preferences and desires than I'd ever need to, but she didn't remember much about her week as a lab rat and I didn't get much insight into the drugs and procedures involved. By then my cock was screaming for attention again, so I pushed it into her mouth, raped her with the dildo and told her to suck and come. Coming girls don't suck very well, and she just kept coming, but eventually I came down her throat. I let her lick me clean.

"You've been a good toy," I told her. "But... I have a room full of men here who want to fuck you. And you're going to please them all."

She sobbed, nodding. I gagged her again, then cut her free, repositioned her ass to the edge of the couch, and bound her again, legs stretched wide apart, with her wrists behind her. It was a very inviting pose.

I fucked her with the dildo, telling her to "please him". The drug's fantasy aspect was very effective -- she apparently believed it was a cock, taking her. I gave her five or six "men", two of which were me; and then used the vibrator on her to see how many times she could come. I gave up at eight, and fucked her again. I didn't dare kiss her. I didn't know how long the drug in her kisses lasted, and being able to fuck over and over was a blast, but I was going to need an ace bandage for my cock as it was.

Slowly the madness in my veins faded. I jerked off into her open mouth one last time -- my cum was nearly clear now, I was amused to note - and then just sagged in physical exhaustion. I cut her free, leaving her blindfolded. She crawled against me, nuzzling and shivering and offering kisses, which I refused. Slowly, she came down as well.

"Sir," she whimpered.

I removed the blindfold. "You okay now?"

"That... that was... no words. You have a sadistic gift for... erotic interrogation."

"I think Black X gets most of the credit. Cheryl, I'm not your mommy but I have to say it: you have to be unbelievably careful who you let use that on you. Shit could happen."

"I think that's the point, sir. Eventually I'll do something stupid and trust the wrong person. It will go badly for me at that point. Why should the Company get rid of me, or even fire me? That's too public. Someone will take care of the problem for them..."

"Are you insane? Just get a boyfriend!"

"I'm not really girlfriend material, sir. I'm addicted and obsessed and I want this all the time. I'll end up in the bar scene, and you can imagine how that will go. I kiss any man I want, and not long afterwards he's taking me home. It's a matter of numbers. Sooner or later it will be the wrong man."

"Cheryl...!"

"Learn from me, sir. I'm what happens when you piss off the Company."

+++

Julianne got back the next day. Being honest at heart, I told her about Cheryl. The horror of what I described hit her harder than it hit me.

"She has to be helped. Someone has to do something."

"What? I don't want involvement in this."

"She's going to be fucking strangers. A whore for free without a pimp. You said she knows how that ends. She's a dead woman, walking. Something has to be done!"

"What, do you want her to move in here?"

"No," she said, coldly. "And doing something for her doesn't mean fucking her every night."

"I don't know what else can help her."

"Well, can't you get together a bunch of guys who will... I mean how do I even put this... care for her needs and not abuse her, while you figure out her issue?"

"Most of the guys I know like variety. A steady diet of Cheryl, no matter how pleasing she gets... it won't work. They'll get bored eventually."

"Nice to know sex isn't everything," she said, neutrally.

"It's a lot, but no it's not everything. Obviously. If it was, all the sluts would be able to hold the guys."

"They do hold a lot of them, it seems."

I stared at her. "I'm with you tonight, not her."

"I wish you hadn't been with her at all."

"Want me all to yourself, do you?"

She didn't answer.

"Because sex isn't everything, but it is a lot. You're volunteering to keep me happy?"

"I have no idea how," she said, coldly.

"I'll teach you."

"When you aren't busy."

I sighed. "You know I'm sexual with other women, or at least that I planned to be. Sure, you hate it. But this anger isn't just about that."

"Very perceptive. No. It's about you. A woman has been raped and ruined. You think her actual life could be at risk, but you act like it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. I mean I guess everyone matters. But what do you expect me to do about it?"

"You could start by caring."

"Julianne... I hate to say it but this is how it goes. The Company... coercive doesn't begin to describe it. The people who run the place are completely cold, and they step on people whenever they want. Follow the prevailing wind and you sail to wealth and comfort. Oppose it and you end up on the rocks like Cheryl. It's not pretty but it's reality."

"Trimmer!"

"Um... what?"

"Never mind. You probably haven't read Dante's Inferno."

"Never heard of it."

"Try it sometime. A lot of it should resonate with you."

"Whatever. I just don't see how Cheryl is my problem to solve. What happened to her is wrong but... so? That's just how it goes."

"You don't get it," she suddenly raged. "My soldier friends -- they promised to protect me, they kept me safe, at risk to themselves, and not so they could get something back from me. Just because they were good! But you wouldn't understand anything about that. Because you only understand things that are about you!"

The door slammed and she was gone.

+++

I was pissed, and I considered my response. The easy one -- open the holo and watch some porn. She'd hear it, and very little pisses off women more. Another option was to storm out there and make her listen to why dealing with other people's problems was a stupid and dangerous way to live, and which didn't lead to the nice diet and nice car and comfortable life she had now, thanks to my toeing the line and staying out of trouble.

But I chose the third, the hard way. I decided to sit and try to think about what she said.

It did not go very well.

"Julianne."

She didn't answer. The door hadn't opened so she hadn't left the apartment.

"Julianne, please come here."

"Why," she said from the other side of the door. I could have gotten frostbite from the level of warmth in her voice.

"I need your help."

There was a pause, and the door opened. She'd been crying. That didn't help.

"Come in," I said.

"Yes sir."

This was absurd, I realized. It was one thing to realize that my moral compass was broken, that I'd never even bothered to blow dust off it and try to figure out which marking was North. It was another to go to an eighteen year old girl for help. I was supposed to be the mature and knowledgeable one.

But who else would I go to? Tom, who had a deep disdain for people brighter than he was? Which said something about me, now that I thought about it. Greg, who made objectivists look like whoever that final Catholic pope had been? Eric, for whom everything was a joke? Suzie who'd nod and smile at anything I said, and try to suck my cock?

Julianne was somehow the only person I knew who cared what happened to other people.

She sat down.

"I'm lost," I said abruptly. "I'm trying to think through what it means that Cheryl's in trouble. I'm trying to understand how it fits in with my life, and I'm realizing I'm too selfish to even ask the question. And that worries me. I hadn't realized just how... frozen... my view of things is. You aren't like that. Make me understand."

"You see her as a toy."

"That's what she is, now. Before I saw her as a possible fuckbuddy and a sort of partner in very mild crime, someone to trade information with. She was never a friend. But that's not it. She's not your friend either, but what's happened to her has you furious. I don't... have that. And suddenly I think that's a problem. Why don't I care?"

"Do you care about me?"

I frowned. "You know I do. The macho in me wants to laugh the question off -- you're easier to manage if you aren't sure. But we both know I do."

"Do you love me?"

"Julianne... I've come a thousand miles just being able to admit I care about you. Let's just agree that I don't love easily and maybe never have."

"Then that's the problem. You don't love. Love is where you see the value in someone other than yourself. You see no point in Cheryl, at least when her legs are closed. She's meaningless to you if she's not getting you off. Not unimportant, meaningless. And that's just wrong."

I hadn't liked it when I guessed the Company had used her and thrown her aside. I hadn't liked it because she was being treated as meaningless. But it was ok when I did it, apparently. I had two sets of rules: one for me and one for others. I'd always been vaguely aware of it, and it had never bothered me. But it bothered me now; it was a problem. So now I had two problems, selfishness and inconsistency. Would I have three in a minute? Four? Was my view of the world built on a bunch of rotted-out ethics?

"Do you love me?" I asked her.

"If I did you cured it a half hour ago."

I sighed. "Did you?"

"I wasn't letting myself think about it. You're not a good person to fall in love with."

I stared at her. She was eighteen. I'd noticed her because she had the right boobs and legs. Anyone loving anyone had never been part of the plan.

But I didn't like hearing I wasn't a good person to fall in love with. And simultaneously, I had to admit it: she was utterly right.

"Does it make sense," I asked, "that having you love me wasn't anything I thought about... but hearing that you can't, hurts?"

"Yes, but it doesn't make me respect you any more. If there isn't going to be love, just let me go. I'm a woman and I can't a life without it forever."

"And if I help Cheryl, that changes things?"

"Maybe. Only if there's personal risk to you. For extra credit, don't fuck her afterwards."

I sat, and thought.

"There'll be plenty of risk. But I don't know if I can do anything alone. Will you help? There's risk in it for you, too."

She gave a little mirthless smile. "After I lectured you, I guess I have to say yes."

"Even though you know, now, how the Company deals with non-compliant women. Even though you don't like Cheryl. Even though if we succeed there is nothing in this for you, and every possibility that Cheryl will throw herself at me out of gratitude."

"Even though all of that," she said, simply.

I looked at her for a long, long moment. And then I picked up her hand, and kissed it. She gave me a strange little smile. "What's that for?"

"I don't know where you came from, or if there are any more in the world like you. But I'm glad there's at least one of you, and that you're here with me."

"Why thank you, sir," she said, eyes shining a little.



Why I Love My Job Ch. 07



"Bill. Lunch?"

He looked at me, and his eyebrow went up a bit.

"I'm not your usual fare, am I? I don't think I have the tits for it."

"Sometimes a man's gotta make do. Let's eat out."

"Uh... huh. Yeah, let me just finish typing this up."

Eating out meant eating somewhere the Company didn't have the right to record conversations. I made a point of eating out a fair amount just so it wouldn't be obvious when it happened purely for the privacy. But I didn't do that with Bill, and his amused smile pretty much told me he knew we were heading for dangerous water.

He hit send, and we hiked out of the building, pausing to wave our hands over the exit reader. The door opened onto the dark grey of a day that was pretty sure it wanted to rain but hadn't worked out the exact timing. The sky blew a few raindrops at us to try the concept out, then went back to R&D to refine the metrics.

"Storm coming," he said. "Gonna be big."

"Very likely."

We moved through the squalor and decay of a less impressive part of the city, away from where coworkers were likely to go. A vendor served us some... I suppose I'd call it sausage, from a worn sausage extruder. I decided I didn't want to check the last certification date.

We got under an awning.

"Now what?" he asked. "This isn't about pencils anymore."

"I need a contact, in bio sciences. Someone who can answer quiet questions on confidential topics and won't talk."

"Everyone talks. It's just a question of the size of the bonus. And you already got called to the principal's office recently. You don't need to be taking more risks, whatever you're after."

"It's important. And come on, those guys must owe you a few favors."

"And now you're going to owe me one," he said. "I hear you have access to that girl that got reassigned recently. Miss Cheryl."

"Not the kind of access you think. But if you're interested in her, approach her. She's... not that hard to approach, these days. I'll put in a good word."

"Alright, I'll count that as favor. Any objection to talking to a woman for your info?"

"No. Why would I object to that?"

"Some guys do. Hang on." He fished up his phone. "Call Karin."

The phone beamed the conversation to his ear, and his phone had a lipreader mode, so I didn't hear most of the conversation. When he clicked out, he nodded to me. "Hike down to the Outer Planets Café. If you don't know her, look for the natural blonde. You're buying her lunch and she's fond of exotic caviar. I wouldn't try to hit on her - and anyway, she's too old for you. At least twenty eight."

"You're funny. Not going to join us?"

"I'll have no part in whatever suicidal stunt you're pulling. And don't you get Karin in trouble. She's been decent to me, and also... just because she's in research doesn't mean she doesn't know how the game is played. If you make a deal, keep it simple and don't screw around. Enjoy your lunch."

He left, and I hiked. The sky tried out a few raindrops, larger this time. A rumble of thunder echoed. 

"Knock it off with the heavy atmospherics and overwrought symbolism, world," I muttered. A raindrop splashed against my forehead.

I found her easily enough – she was tall, thin, and she was in fact the only natural blonde in the room. She was attractive enough, but looked a little grim. She nodded to me when I looked at her, and I settled at her table.

"I ordered," she said. "I'm told you've eaten." She took out her phone, turned it off, and looked at me. I did the same.

I looked around. I recognized some coworkers. "I'm not sure we can eat here."

"I don't think we'll be going to either of our apartments, Mr Gladgrind. You have a reputation."

"Entirely undeserved."

"Kim, Cecily, Chrissy, Melissa, Suzie, Julianne. And Cheryl. And that's just the ones I've heard about."

"Fine, I'm as bad as all that. And you're hot. But I have other things on my mind at the moment."

Her meal arrived, in a takeout tray. I nodded for the bill, raised an eyebrow when I saw the display, and looked at her. "For this price, I expect a lot of help." I waved my hand at the display, and it beeped, swallowing my day's pay.

"You'll get what I know, but of course I have no idea what you want to know about. But you're in trouble, so I figure you're a little desperate and don't mind supporting my habit for fine food. You can afford this, I'm sure."

"You must be fun when you negotiate for lab equipment."

That got a small but genuine smile. She took a spoonful, rolled her eyes heavenward in sheer pleasure, and then closed the package. "I'll eat this later. Sitting and eating with a man who is not eating... I don't like the vibe it sends. And as you say, this is not a place to talk."

We got into her car. Once settled, and slipped off her shoes and extended them into my lap. "I like footrubs," she said, matter of factly.

"You're really milking this."

"You're getting off lightly, I promise you. I don't blackmail afterwards. You're paying everything up front."

I rubbed her feet. She gave a contented little sigh. "Yes. Now... ask."

"It's complex and hypothetical. Assume there was drug research being done on how to make females perfect little sex toys. Assume one of the developments was that a woman's body could be changed to produce drugs that affected men. One that worked through the air, and one that was... administered, I guess, by kissing. How would such a thing be counteracted?"

She was very expressionless. "I don't work on the X projects, Mr. Gladgrind. And no one who does will answer questions like that."

I nodded. "Enjoy the caviar."

"Not so fast. You give a good footrub. And I do know... theory, I suppose you'd say."

I smiled, running a thumb slowly and firmly along the arch of her foot. "Tell me everything."

"Mmm... So. Drugs don't, as a general rule, make long term genetic changes in people, at least not in a good way, and what you're describing requires true genetic modification. Bodies do not produce entirely new and unnatural substances without a change in fundamental genetic makeup. So the short answer is, no. What you're describing is either a short term effect, or what is required isn't simply a drug. But it's possible with a bacterial agent. Something that could live in her body with its own genetics, and produce the new compounds. It wouldn't be a simple problem, but things like that have been done in the past."

"Bacterial? Germs? I could have caught something?"

"So much for hypothetical. This is about Cheryl, I'll assume."

"Rumors have gotten out, I see."

"No, but I'm good at inferring things. I have to be, to do my work. But as to catching something, this is where it gets complicated. Coming up with organisms that can produce complex drugs: hard. Coming up with one of those that can survive in the human body: hellishly hard. And if you solve those problems, then you have the risk you referred to: it could spread from person to person, and that could be catastrophic. So now you have a new problem: engineering your miracle microbe so it can't spread from the host you put it in. It's a big set of problems to untangle."

"Is it possible?"

"Yes. It's been done. In the biological warfare labs, a number of years ago. It was used for targeted assassination, actually."

"What?"

"They tailored a microorganism that produced a deadly but unstable toxin. They taught it to live in humans, but then taught it only to switch on the poison production in the presence of specific DNA. It was a very, very hard puzzle, but they succeeded."

"And they injected him? I mean, if you can already get to the person you want dead..."

"They didn't get to him. They didn't have to. They just released the organism into the human population. Over a few years it spread – entirely harmlessly, until it found the right person. And then within a few minutes his heart burst. Elegant, really. The only downside is, we're all infected with it, and if anyone is ever conceived with an exact enough genetic match, they'll be spontaneously aborted. But such is war."

"That's... very chilling."

"Such also is war."

"But then, if you just swap the poison for some other drug, and change the DNA pattern-"

"This is biology, not computer software. To do that would be almost like starting from scratch. It's years of effort. That's not how it was done to Miss Cheryl. It would be far too much time and expense."

"Then?"

She mused. "I think I know how I'd do it. Triggering an orgasm via DNA fingerprint is incredibly hard... but triggering it from simple and unusual compounds is easy. So I'd teach my organism to only reproduce and produce the drug in the presence of some compound, Z. Z would be inert and harmless, and stable. It would act like an enzyme, so it wouldn't be used up. Z wouldn't be water soluble, so it wouldn't leach out of the body. Inject it in a stable place in her body, and the microbes that bumble into it are switched on, reproduce and produce your drug. But if the microbes leave her body... no more Z. No more production of your drug, no more reproduction. She can't infect others in a meaningful way. But in her own body she produces the drug, all the time."

"Bloody fucking hell, if you did that with Madrigal..."

"Probably impossible. Maddy is a complex drug. Microbes do have limits. But drugs that turn guys on are simpler. Men are easy; you just flip a few biological triggers and they are ready to go. You mentioned kissing... yes. I'd implant some Z in her salivary glands. Have the organism pump out something like Hard Night or Ramcock... and you know, that's sort of erotic. A woman's kiss, which turns men into crazed fuck machines. If it could be switched on and off – say, if Z could be in pill form, and only stayed in the body for a day or two – I can see some interesting possibilities."

"Women can already turn men into fucking machines."

"Pretty ones can. You're massaging my foot and enjoying that view of my leg, and look at that nice erection you have going. But many women don't have my... advantages? A drug that would let them get pounded the way beauty queens get it... the ad campaign writes itself. Trust me, there's market there."

"But I asked you about countermeasures."

"Is Cheryl unhappy with her new superpower? I suppose if you can't switch it off it's a problem. It can be a lot of fun kissing a man, getting him warm, and then just... stopping. But men on Ramcock don't take No for an answer, at least that's the rumor..."

"She has other problems, not just that one."

"And you want to help. That's oddly... noble. What are her other problems?"

"Black X addiction and a too-generous supplier who doesn't care what happens to her."

She leaned back... and looked at me, eyes a little bit wide. "Well. That's... evil. Addicted to erotic fantasies, and rigged to make men want to take brutal advantage... the parts of me that don't find it darkly erotic are completely horrified. And... again, I'm impressed, Mr Gladgrind. Your concern for her is touching and unexpected. Don't you like her that way?"

"Like you say: it's darkly erotic. But I'm having a sort of ethical awakening. It's complicated."

"So is that erection for her... or me?"

"Erections are for themselves. But as noted, you're hot and I do get a good view of your legs this way."

"And they are good legs to view," she said, looking at the bulge in my pants, and then into my eyes. "Turn to face me, sir?"

I obliged. Her foot settled against my erection. "Are you into feet?"

"No. Legs, breasts, slender waists, pretty faces, good hair," I said, looking over her body. 

Her foot rocked over me, lightly. "This doesn't mean a thing," she said. "But somehow the fact that you're concerned about her... maybe I just want to reward that. Or maybe I just like very, very large erections trying to rip out of suit pants. I haven't gotten a man off this way since school... what were her fantasies like?"

"Rape and interrogation." 

Her foot moved faster, and more firmly. She smiled, slowly and darkly, her eyelashes drifting downwards. "Can you promise to behave, sir?"

I stared into her eyes, and nodded. Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse, and ran a fingertip over her slight but alluring curves. "I'm just going to... picture... what you did with her... don't tell me. Let my imagination play a little. And then I'm going to listen to your orgasm, and let my emotions roil all afternoon, and when I get home and my boyfriend visits... imagine him interrogating me, Mr. Gladgrind..."

I stared at her body, and her face, and she parted her lips and licked them, slowly. Then she slipped her other foot under my balls and rubbed with both at once... she knew what she was doing. Suddenly she pulled her bra up, closed her eyes and simpered, whispering please no as she twisted her nipples... I jetted helplessly, groaning.

"Mmmmm, very nice, sir. You're going to be responsible for making my evening very, very pleasant."

I sagged against the car door. "You're very welcome, Miss. Mind dropping me off at work?"

She gave a small giggle. "The walk will do you good."

"It's about to rain."

"Ah, that. Very well. Don't turn on your phone until you're inside the building. When people ask, you delivered a chip to me at lunch with information on the litigation involving RC-26. And that, I think, finishes us up for now. I will give thought on getting Cheryl's situation more manageable. Blocking the proposed microbe's action is probably not hard. The addiction problem is much more difficult, I'm afraid."

"Won't you need a sample of the microbe?"

"I will, but I'm hoping I can get the information from a guy I know on an X project. If not..." she gave a very slow smile, "You'll have to arrange to be kissed by her, repeatedly... and then come straight to me."

"So I can give you a... sample."

"Exactly. We don't know how long it lasts away from her. You'd probably have to put me in the room next to the one you visit her in..."

"Or in the same room..."

"I don't think so, Mr Gladgrind. I'd happily observe what you might have to do to get a sample, but I won't participate in her fantasies directly."

The car drove us to the door. I made sure I hadn't soaked through, and went into the building. Behind me, the storm exploded into life, wind suddenly turning furious and torrents cutting visibility to a few feet. Another typical early summer storm.

+++

"I hate this plan," Julianne said. We were in bed and the collar was on her throat.

"You're the one who pushed me to help."

"Somehow, everything you do involves your cock."

Suddenly my hand was gripping the collar and I dragged her face between my legs. "What, this cock? This cock that you're going to lick, right now, tasting yourself? Lick it, miss! Up and down. Faster! You like tasting yourself. In fact you fucking love it. Our new rule is working out well, don't you think? Having to masturbate and then rub your pussy against my cock before you can enter the bedroom? You resented it the first time. You tolerated it the next time. Now it just makes you wet. I'm learning about you. Rituals like that, get to you, and I'll take advantage... Now suck the head, and remember your lessons. That's right, get your tongue into it... Are you ashamed of how wet you get when I demand things? I see your hand twitching, wanting to touch your clit. No. When I fuck you, you're going to be about pleasing me. Do it right and maybe I'll let you beg to come, afterwards."

I put my other hand on the back of her head. "Now take more. More! Open your throat, miss. I love the feel of the back of your throat. No gagging. Deeper! Look at you, hot and pretty and slutty. You're nearly dripping. Don't believe me?" I slid a finger into her, thrashed it inside her, and when she gasped I forced her to lick it clean, then pushed her mouth over my cock again. "Look at the way your belly is spasming. You go a little crazy when you don't come for a few days. Do you want this cock slamming you, miss? Do you want to be allowed to come tonight? Open your legs if you know you need it. Oh, so you want to fight it?"

I rubbed her pussy, roughly. She cried out, and her legs parted. "You can't fight what you crave, slut. We both know it!"

I fingerfucked her, while forcing her mouth over my cock, again and again. She spasmed, squeezing down helplessly on my fingers. Her legs opened wider and wider, her toes pointed into the bed, her hips tilted up, slowly and invitingly, her hands began to pet me, pleadingly...

I pushed her back and took her.

"Remember your lessons. Lift, tilt, squeeze, drop. Work it, Miss Julianne. Work for my cum. Plead with your body. We both know you love cum but you have to let your body beg without shame... lift your head, tilt it back, part your lips just a little-"

I pounded into her tense, tight curl of a body, and fucked her lips with my tongue. She shuddered, moving faster, getting her fingers in my hair, her nipples rigid and slapping against me-

Her body- memories of Cheryl begging- Karin's little smile- that time I'd slapped Suzie and she'd come- the soft, shy little kiss Julianne had given me this morning to wake me up- the way she looked in her short dress when she bent over at work- the sweet, terrified, needy whimper as my tongue pushed between her lips and flicked against her tongue- the way she suddenly cupped her breasts, lifting them against me, and speeded up- and wrapped her legs around me suddenly and just ground against me, frantically-

"Fuck yes! Oh fuck yes! Baby, yes! COMING! COMING IN YOU! TAKE IT!"

She sobbed in delight, and kissed me frantically as I jetted into her, then I slid out and trapped my cock against her belly and jetted the rest, getting it all over her-

I stumbled off her, and obediently she ran her hands over her quivering body, rubbing my cum in.

"Perfect," I panted. "Your turn."

I knew what got her, every time. Gentle kisses on the mouth, and letting her rub her clit while I fingered her and toyed with a nipple. It was the only time she was allowed to touch herself, it was her reward, and her orgasms were slow and deep and her body was almost rigid. When I fucked her to orgasm it was very different; she'd thrash helplessly and violently and her orgasms were fast and short and explosive. Both were things of beauty; she had the hottest, prettiest orgasms I'd ever seen.

She came, twice, her mouth a perfect O that I gently kissed and licked as she peaked. Then she crumpled against me, but I nodded No, and forced one more out of her, fingering her and sucking her nipple and pinching the other. When she crumped after that one, her breathing was shallow and fast and her eyes were unfocused. That looked better.

I curled her against me, and stroked her, very slowly. It took her awhile to come back from where I sent her, and I'd figured out that she needed to be stroked like this until she could speak again.

"...ruthless..." she stammered, softly. "Why... does that... work on me?"

I kissed her nose. "I like that it does." 

"I'm... sure...."

We cuddled, drifting. 

"Still don't like that you'll go to Cheryl. And... why Eric?"

"Eric's got a lot of staying power. If anyone can keep her busy for awhile, he can. Plus he's got a good imagination, which helps with a girl on Black X."

She shivered. "Do you ever... think about... using that on me...?"

"That day is coming, baby. But it's something we'll do together, I won't just spring it on you. Just understand that it will be the end of your secrets. Everything comes out, no matter how dark..."

She curled against me tighter, took my hand and wrapped it around her hair, and slept.

+++

I made arrangements, and next evening, placed a call. "Cheryl."

She answered with video, which surprised me. She was naked, which surprised me a little less. "Mr. Gladgrind," she whispered. "How nice of you to call."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 07



"Good evening, Miss Cheryl. I was wondering if you'd like company sometime this week?"

"This week," she said, softly, and brushed her hand over the phone. "This Thursday is available. I'm sure I can fit you in."

"Do you mind if I bring a friend?"

"It might depend on who."

"Eric."

"Oh! I thought you meant a girl. So you want to... share me?"

"I plan to make you a desperate whore, forced to sate multiple men a night, or risk punishment. I find the idea hot. Don't you?"

Her hand crept, unsteadily, off the low end of the image. After a moment, her eyes closed partway. "I admit I do," she said. 

"Are you touching yourself?"

"Just a little. Your voice, Mr. Gladgrind. You have a very sexy voice. I've started hearing it in my dreams, commanding me to do things..."

"Stop touching."

"I'm very needy this evening. No one is visiting me tonight. Why don't you want me to..."

"You'll come when you are with me. Not before."

"That would be... difficult. And you should know, sir. I... have other fantasies beyond rape and interrogation. They've been coming to light, you might say. One of them is... I'm a slave girl. And I've displeased my Master. He finds ways to punish me, degrading ways. Taking cock after cock from behind while I have to kiss his feet. Masturbating in his lap with his cock up inside me, but I'm not allowed to move. Spanked while forced to lick cocks and pussies. Bound against a wall while two other slavegirls suck my nipples and he uses a vibrator on me, and if I make any noise he uses electrical shocks on me. They get worse... sir, please, I want to touch myself. My date cancelled, his wife found out... please. I'm trying not to go out to the bars, sir, and touching myself helps. Or you could just come over now? You've been the best so far, you have a wicked, playfully cruel imagination..." She panned the camera over her body. "Can you see how much I want your company? Come punish a slavegirl, sir. It will be you or a stranger, and I know I'm safer with you..."

Fuck my life, I thought, grimly. Only I could have found a situation where punishing a hot, horny slave was something like a moral obligation. But I wouldn't go down this path. She was too messed up, and anyway, Julianne was nearby, making sure I didn't make exactly this mistake.

"Not tonight."

She chuckled, her voice breathy but fragile. "That's right, you already have your own slave girl. Sir, please, I need to touch myself...and I like it when you watch. Please."

"Touch."

She positioned the camera so it happened to include her hand. Once upon a time her masturbation had been all theatrics. Now she was all need.

"Call me names, sir," she whimpered.

"I'm not your vibrator," I snapped. "Stop touching. Thursday at seven?"

"Thursday evening whenever you like. For as long as you like."

"Perfect." I clicked out. 

Julianne was beside me instantly, and to my shock I found she was naked. She fished my cock out of my shorts and rubbed it with both hands, getting her thumbs up under the head of my cock. "She got you so turned on. That was hard to watch but... I will say this. Seeing you get hard for her makes me need to have you. What simple, stupid creatures we girls are. I have to please you now, I just do. She's right, I'm your slavegirl. I'm so completely owned." She lowered her mouth and sucked the head, her hands still stroking up and down. She was learning me and she had my undivided attention.

"Let me try something, sir. I saw it in your porn collection..."

Figures I'd leave that unlocked... and that she'd be curious.

She knelt on the sofa, straddling me, but instead of sinking down, she shifted so just the head of my cock was pressing against her, and slowly sliding into her increasing wetness. "Steady me," she whispered.

I gripped her by the waist. Her hands slipped down and stroked herself, and me, until they were slippery, and then reached lower and worked my shaft, up and down. That curled her forward, and her breasts were against my face, caressing my lips and cheeks with her fullness.

This had me panting quickly. She was masturbating me with the head of me buried in her, being massaged by her squeezing and little movements. My hands tightened on her.

"Don't," she whispered. "Not yet. Who can stand it the longest? Will I drop myself down on you, or will you force me down?" She wiggled her hips, a fast, tiny motion that massaged the head of my cock and sucked at it. Her nipple slid across my lips, slowly hardening against them, and then pressing in. And then she got a finger up into herself, just slightly, and ground it against my frenum.

"Shit," I whispered. "Fuck!"

"I really am your slavegirl," she whimpered. "You don't need to play pretend with her. I'm the real thing. Punish me, toy with me, and suddenly use me. Be dark with me. That's what you're teaching me – that men have darkness in them and they need a safe path to get it out. You made me that path. I didn't know I'd come to want it. I'm going to learn to please you like a Cheryl never can. Feel that fingertip, working that one spot... feel my hand serving your shaft, my nipple begging to be sucked and nipples... I want your cum. I want it so much. I want it spurting up inside me as you pound me. It's that collar, wearing it every night, sleeping beside you, some nights I wake up and it's all I can do not to masturbate and suck you... cram me full of cock, I'm aching now, empty and hungry, I'm weakening, melting, I need to have all of you slamming into all of me-"

"F-f-fuck!" Uncontrollably I forced her down over me, and we lost balance and she crashed backwards to the floor with me on top of her, but that didn't matter and I plunged into her again and again, taking violently, reduced to a savage fucking animal. I don't remember anything I said or did, but there was thrusting and clinging and squeezing and milking and desperate frantic breathy cries, and then her legs wrapped around me and we came together, moaning and gasping incoherently.

After a time, she giggled, faintly.

"Yes?"

"Sir... do I talk too much?"

"You were talking?"

She kind of hit me, and giggled again. "Ow," she said. "Rug burn. You really lost it, sir."

"I'd tell you not to call me sir, but I still find it kind of sexy. Roll over."

She did, wiggling her ass at me. I slapped it, and checked out the burn. "I've seen worse."

"I bet you have. Probably on Cheryl."

I mused. "You're right," I said, "about the darkness. Men have it and it needs to come out. I need to take and claim and pound, and it's about pleasure, not love. But it doesn't have to be evil. It doesn't have to be painful, and it doesn't have to be wrong. And that's the problem with someone as broken as Cheryl. She lets a man's darkness out, but all at once and without limit. If I did rug burn her, I'd smile sardonically and think she had it coming. With you my first thought was to make sure you were ok. And that's why she's in trouble – she'll meet a man who doesn't care about the consequences, who has too much darkness, and she'll let it all out at once."

Julianne smiled a little. "It's funny that you had to get there by reasoning. I wouldn't have had the words for any of that, but I know it all by instinct. Men have to do everything by thinking. Women have it all wired in. I think that's why there are so few women philosophers worth a damn. We don't need systems. We don't need to think, to know what's right or wrong."

"Actually I think my moral compass is a little more broken than most."

"Well, you're working on it. I might be a little twisted too, for a girl. I just got off screaming while telling you I was your slave. And it's not like I'm all submissive and shi- and stuff. But in bed I'm dripping the moment that collar goes on."

"You know... we could be sitting on the sofa. We don't have to be on the floor."

"It's a looooong way up," she said.

"Just climb my cock."

"What, this rubber thing?" She grabbed it by the base and whipped it around. "It leads straight to the floor again."

"Keep that up and it won't."

She let go. "Yeah, ok, I'm too sated to risk it. I didn't know orgasms felt like that."

I rolled over, and kissed her. She blinked at me. "Why?"

"For... understanding. There's nothing I can do about my sexual response with a come-on like Cheryl's. But rather than screaming at me – girls do that – you just understood it and made it your own. It's a very adult response."

"Instinct again. Jealousy is a dangerous demon in any girl, but I guess it has some positives for the guy. Just don't... mess with it. Don't deliberately use jealousy to make me compete. That just feels sickening. Uh... I'm pretty sure if I sit up I'm going to stain your rug. Can you get me a towel?"

"Urg." I rolled to my feet, and fetched a towel, and on a whim, a warm washcloth. I dropped down next to her, put the towel under her hips, and ran the warm washcloth gently over her pussy. She moaned softly. "Oh that's perfect. That's soooo good. I think I love you."

I froze, staring at her, wordlessly. She stared back, just as stunned, going white and then pink. "Um, I meant..."

"Sit up. Gracious, what a mess you make."

"Ha. That's mostly all you, you know."

"Nope. When I come it's a single round pearl. You suck it up and hide it in your belly. All the actual mess is you."

"So I'm fucking an oyster? You're being weird. Ok, so, sex on the floor is hot. Check. But my hips are already sore."

"Hold on," I knelt down again, gathered her up, and carried her to the bedroom.

"Wait," she said. "Are you going to lay me out in bed, put my collar on me, and kiss me gently on the mouth?"

"It's eerie how you guessed all that."

She shivered abruptly, pressing her face against my chest. "I'm so owned and so screwed," she said in a tiny, muffled voice.

+++

Explaining things to Eric was interesting.

"So you want me, and a hot science girl, to go visit Cheryl, who is fucking hot and wants to be drugged and used. Except I can't touch the science bitch and she won't even be in the room with us. At some point you and she leave and I can do whatever I want with Cheryl, except no real rough stuff. And we can't talk about it afterwards. And Cheryl is fine with this."

"It's complicated, Eric. I can't talk about who messed with Cheryl but she's basically a Black X addict now. Due to her addiction she is very okay with this, and if you can be nice to her she'll certainly want you back."

"And why aren't you doing her nightly?"

"Julianne, remember? I don't need a harem."

"Except tonight you want two women."

"Science hottie is coming along to try to figure out what's up with Cheryl."

"So this is like... an intervention. Except with fucking."

"I guess that's as good a way as saying it as any."

"And people call me crazy?"

"All the damn time. Look, I get that it's weird. But your part in all this is to do Cheryl, and I promise you that's not exactly a burden. Keep her occupied when I'm talking to Karin. Don't discuss it afterwards. That's the whole deal. What do you know about Black X?"

"Enough to know it's addictive as hell and psychotropic. And not cheap. How did she get addicted and where is she getting it?"

"I can't tell you. But the person supplying her is no one we want to mess with, which is why we don't talk about it afterwards."

"This relates to your visit to the principal's office. We're doing his girlfriend?"

"Not that I told you this, but ex-girlfriend. Very ex."

"But he keeps her supplied with Black."

"Try to figure out why," I said, grimly.

"Dude... he might as well kill her. Oh. Oh shit. He basically is. Untraceably. And you're riding to the rescue here?"

"More like science girl Karin is. Our job is to get Karin in the door once Cheryl is in lala-land."

"Are you going to do Cheryl?"

"Fuck, Eric. Probably. Have you ever been with a girl on Black?"

"Nope."

"All I can tell you is that crazy can be very, very hot. It's not the core mission, but to see her is to want some and she won't be able to say no. And don't tell me you have a problem sharing because I know you don't."

"I'm fine with it. You're the one who got weird about it. Julianne's off the market, and that's not like you. Suzie was a free-for-all."

"Julianne's not Suzie. Different girl, different rules."

"Who are you and where did Scott Gladgrind go?"

"He went to the principal's office and had his vision enlarged. There's more going on in this Company than you could ever dream."

"No doubt. Just call me Horatio of the limited philosophy."

"I wish people would stop making literary allusions that go straight over my head. So you're in?"

"Yeah. If only to see how deep the rabbit hole goes."

"Ok, I got that one. Alice in Wonderland. The part where she does drugs and falls into that endless hole that symbolizes her own sexuality."

"So you do read, at least the classics. Here's a hint, though. That wasn't actually the original you read."

"Really?"

"Really. There was no sex in the original. At all. It was a child's story."

"No shit. That rabbit would be pretty fucked up in a child's story."

"Um... ok, never mind. Someday I'll show you my ancient and secret collection of printed-era books. Your mind will explode. I bet you'd never have guessed that Peter and the White Witch didn't have sex magic fights and Lucy and Edmund weren't getting it on with the White Stag. Lord Fauntleroy didn't spank his female servants, either. And we're not even going to discuss Peter Pan."

"Peter Pain?"

"Pan, in the original. This is a topic for another time. We'll be doing more... modern day fantasy this Thursday, it sounds like."

"Heh. We could read her Peter Pain. She could be Ticklehell."

"It sounds like she has enough issues already."

+++

We made final plans. Eric and I would call on Cheryl, leaving Karin to arrive separately. Once Cheryl was under the influence, we'd being Karin in. Afterwards, Karin would be passed off as a figment of Cheryl's imagination, and Karin and I would take off, leaving Eric to finish the evening with Cheryl. 

That evening I found out Julianne had again been borrowed by another department, and would be gone for three weeks this time. She's already packed and left; I guessed she loved the fact that orders were orders and I didn't have a say in it. That got me snarling.

Being borrowed once wasn't unusual; it was standard to loan new employees around, to teach them that the Company called the shots and ordered their comings and goings. But twice this fast was someone meddling. I pulled up the manpower database and started digging.

The group asking for her had a genuine need of temporary staffing... for a week. Three weeks was bogus, and her third week, once I unraveled the job codes and TQ data, turned out to be working as a personal assistant, which at her pay grade was pretty much someone saying "I want to fuck this one."

Cursing fluently, I pounded open the history trace that showed where the request came from – and found I was blocked. Reassigning her just took a green circle – but blocking me meant someone red circle or above had arranged it. 

"Call Julianne," I snapped to my phone.

"Hello sir," she answered.

"Julianne. Heads up. Someone explicitly arranged the transfer and is holding you an extra week."

"I know, sir. It's very very flattering."

I erupted into profanity.

"I'm sorry, sir. Does someone else's interest... bother you?"

"It fucking well- you're enjoying this, you little bitch!"

"Oh no sir, I would never-" but then she dissolved into giggling. 

"Don't toy with me, Julianne!"

"You toy with me, sir. I'm getting the impression you can dish it out, but can't take it?"

"You're really pushing it sweetheart."

"Maybe, sir. But I've figured something out. You didn't know this transfer was coming, and I'm certain you already tried to block it, and failed. That means you've been outranked. And that means you don't know who arranged it, doesn't it."

"You do, don't you."

"Yes sir, but I'm forbidden to talk about it."

"Julianne, if it's anything to do with a certain vice president of my acquaintance-"

Her voice got serious. "No, sir. I checked. Honestly I wouldn't have gone if there was even a hint of that involved. But I have an... orientation class in a few minutes, so please excuse me?"

"At this time of night?"

"Yes sir. Oooh, ok I really do have to go now. Talk to you later, sir!"

I clicked out, seething. I stalked into the kitchen, found the chicken I'd planned to cook for our dinner, and sliced it the fuck up into tiny pieces. Red circle. Twice my income at least and a thirty hour workweek. He'd have plenty of time for his personal assistant. Fucking hell, and she thought it was funny!

I cursed again, and planned to enjoy the fuck out of my time with Cheryl. She wouldn't fucking screw with my emotions, at least. Shit! 

+++ 

The next few days passed quickly enough at work – we had a major disconnect with Government and litigation heated up quickly – but time at home dragged. I hadn't realized how quickly I'd gotten used to Julianne's presence, even if a lot of it consisted of the sort of dark brooding disdain that only an eighteen year old girl can generate. I put up with it because she wasn't that way in bed, and has she fell asleep she kept the habit of wrapping my hair around her hair as she drifted off. No girl had ever done this, and few girls have had less reason to, but as her breathing got regular and light, I'd look at her in the semidarkness, her face going peaceful and her lips parting in that unguarded and innocent way. 

I'd kissed her like that more than once, and she'd murmur something inaudible and press her body against mine, her hand slipping clumsily over mine to make sure it was still in her hair. My cock would grow stiff at these times, but I didn't take her. There was something in her bizarre trust in me, which only emerged on the edge of sleep, that affected me much more deeply that I wanted to admit. 

The next morning, though, she'd be all "Fucktoy S-11421137, reporting for feeding, adjustment and use" at the breakfast table, and her pretty hair would be swept back in a hair band as if to say that it was hers and my hand had never been invited into it.

I stayed in contact with her during the day. She was aloof, even while some of the other recent hires took to smiling at me in the halls.

Finally it was time to deal with Cheryl, which at least gave me something else to think about.

+++

I knocked on the door. Cheryl opened it immediately.

She was dressed as a fantasy slave – a golden translucent bra top with exposed nipples; thong panties, very visible under a diaphanous purple skirt, slit up both legs; a collar on her throat, and slave bracelets on her wrists and ankles. Her generally small-but-curvy Asian look somehow made it a very hot combination. To make it more interesting, she was wearing some kind of insertable vibrator, held in place by the thong. 

Her eyes were already wide and dark. I introduced Eric and her smile got very inviting. Eric does that to women.

As soon as we stepped in she handed me a remote control.

"Some new toys came for me a few days ago," she said. "The remote is for this vibrator. That little red light flashes when I squeeze down and that green light flashes when I'm about to come. The vibrator is... something. Just putting it in, it gives this intermittent little massage, you can't hear it but I can feel it. It's driving me crazy. The other toys..." she pointed to a new piece of furniture, a large wooden X mounted against the wall, with locking manacles and belts. "But the wickedest new toy is that set of goggles on the table. When you put it on, it grips and covers both ears, and it starts start to tell a story, sometimes showing little flashes of video, but mostly staying dark. It's a different story each time. Erotic doesn't begin to describe it. They are the kind of stories that... would work very well with Black X. And if I wear the vibrator at the same time, the goggles control it. And when the story starts, the manacles on the cross lock. They don't unlock until the story ends. Bottom line... I could have Black X experiences when I'm alone now."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 07



"Not a good idea," I said.

"I know. But a very tempting one. I got curious and tried the toys all at once, without any drugs. I was trapped for an hour and for the last half hour I came non-stop. It's like perfect masturbation but you can't stop it. When the manacles opened I fell to the floor and couldn't move. I can't imagine what would have happened if I'd been on a drug."

"It's a sex AI," Eric said. "You have to be rich to own one and most of them are designed to only be usable once a week. Company men who travel sometimes get them for their wives."

I took Cheryl by the hair and marched her over to the X, and manually locked her in. Then I applied the blindfold, and got a vial of the drug out.

"No goggles for you. And don't get too attached to that vibrator because it's in the way of what Eric and I have in mind for you."

I adjusted a control on the vibrator. I heard a low hum, and then she moaned, softly. Eric smiled, and ran his fingernails over her bare belly. Her lips parted, invitingly.

"I have your drug," I told her. "But you have to ask. In fact you have to learn to beg. Do you want your drug, Miss Cheryl?"

"Yes sir. Yes, please."

I walked over and toyed with her nipple until it was an aching strawberry. "That's not good enough, slut. Can't you beg better than that?"

"Please, sir. Please. I want it so bad. I need it. Please sir, I'm begging, I want it on me so I can be a good obedient girl for you both. Make me your hot little toy. Please sir, please!"

I turned the vibrator up a little as a reward, and then started toying with her other nipple. Eric traced a fingertip along her lower lip. I hadn't mentioned the kiss thing to him – he'd figure it out on his own, soon enough.

Eric pulled her lower lip down, gently, making her look – and I guessed feel –like slutty fuckbait. "Are you a worthless fuckslut, Cheryl? Will you do anything – anything at all – for cock after cock?"

She whimpered. I turned the vibrator up, and she shook from head to toe. "Don't- don't make me say that- please sir-"

Eric slapped her nipples, sharply. "You'll say it, and mean it," I snapped.

She moaned. "I'm a... worthless fuckslut. I'll do anything you ask for cock. Oh fuck sir, this thing, it's like it knows me, it's getting me so needy-"

I opened the vial and began painting her nipples. She arched to get more, simpering. I did her lips next. "Don't lick and don't squeeze."

In seconds she was gasping. I pulled her hips towards me and poured the rest of the drug into a little opening in the vibrator, clearly meant for this purpose. The vibration became loud and uneven, and she howled.

"Oh fuck! Not on full! I can't stand it! Oh fuck please!"

We stepped away from her while the dose worked into her.

"Those goggles are creepy," Eric murmured. "I've heard of them but never seen one. The AI learns the woman's fetishes –with that vibrator inside her it, can measure her responses directly, moment by moment. It can compose little audio adventures tailored to her desires as it learns them, it can do edge play perfectly, give her little subliminal messages. And it can report everything it learned, if you have the key. Rumor says they can be programmed to actually teach women new fetishes and desires. Addictive as hell. There's a reason they're designed to only work once a week."

"I doubt very much hers has that limit. Let's agree she doesn't get to put the goggles on. It makes me feel a little... replaceable."

Eric chuckled. "I don't think men will be going out of fashion anytime soon. Women crave pleasing men. Toys can't give them that. That vibrator is coming out soon. I have a cock and hands for what she needs. I do like the Saint Andrew's Cross though. She's fucking hot, moaning and bound like that..."

The remote in my hand beeped, and the Squeeze light was flashing over and over, and faster and faster. Suddenly the little cum light blinked – and instantly the vibration stopped.

"Fuck, no! Not this! Please just use me!"

The vibration started again, slower, then building up. The orgasm light blinked and the vibration stopped again. And started, and stopped. She thrashed, begging again. 

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Yeah... that's creepy. I know a girl who has serious fears about the supernatural. Rig her up like that, a little Black X and a whisper in her ear that her new toys are possessed by demons, and she'd come screaming all night... and why is it that women get off so hard on fear?"

"Eric, dude... I do not have that much insight into the soul of women. I get by with a big cock, a big income, and the ruthless macho thing. It works but let's not assume I know a damn thing about the part between the ears. Let's face it, we're better off not knowing."

"Please Masters have mercy," Cheryl sobbed.

"There's not much left between her ears at the moment. She thinks we're doing it to her?"

"The drug hits fast, and I'm sure she has fantasies about cruel men and being edged until she'll willing to do anyone. Because every woman I ever knew did. Her fantasies rule her right now. But we can shape them." I told Eric. "So she's been a bad slave, I think?"

"I had a girlfriend once who was into this. Allow me."

He walked to her. "So... slave. You were caught masturbating... again. No more warnings; now we have to punish you."

"Please Master-"

He slapped her face. "Silence. You're displeasing. You're going to have to earn it all back – words, the right to please men, your own pleasure. If you can't, you'll be given to soldiers and raped and beaten. If you can learn to obey us though, you'll be allowed to give pleasure rather than having it ripped from you. Do you want to give me pleasure, slut?"

"Yes- please- yes-"

"SILENCE! You can nod."

She nodded, frantically. His hands went to her breasts, and he toyed with them, and then removed the top entirely. 

"The first way a slave is pleasing is sexiness. Even bound you can make yourself look more fuckable. Lips wet, back arched, hips tilted, legs taut... better. Doesn't that feel more feminine? Making yourself more fuckable has rewards." He pulled the skirt off her, pulled the thong as far down as it would go in her position, and grasped the dildo, shoving it in and out of her. "Do you like feeling this thing fuck you?"

She nodded yes, shuddering. 

"Lick your lips again. Keep them wet. Make them fuckable. You only get real cock when you show how desperately you want it, slave. Show me how deep down you want to crawl from cock to cock... that's your deepest fear, isn't it. Deep down you're terrified that you're a slut, a cock-craving desperate pussy on pretty legs, and you want cock after cock and cum-bath after cum-bath, you're afraid we'll find out that you can't turn it off-"

She thrashed towards orgasm. He yanked it out, and then fucked her mouth with his fingers, and then his tongue. I chuckled, darkly. Eric was in for a surprise. She couldn't kiss him back fast enough, hot enough or wet enough and he had no idea what that meant.

My phone beeped. Karin was in the building and was asking if she should make her entrance yet. I checked to make sure that Cheryl's blindfold was in place, and sent back a yes.

Eric let her off the X and gripped her by the throat, dragging her to her hands and knees. He stripped, slid his belt from his pants, folded it over and stroked her ass, gently, with it. I looked at him, frowning. He held up his hand and nodded, indicating wordlessly that he wasn't going to get rough.

"You know what's coming, don't you," he said. "Your whipping. Crawl towards Mr. Gladgrind, rub yourself against him and kiss him... while you take your asswhipping, slut."

"This way, slut," I said. "Find me by my voice." I hauled off my clothing. "Here, slut slut slut. Kiss my feet. That's right. Lick them. Now move upwards... mmm, your breasts around my cock. But keep moving. Find my mouth, slut. Show me how you beg to be used with your lips. Show me your slut nature."

She kissed me, trembling. Eric gave her one across the ass, and she cried out and kissed me more frantically, staying on tiptoes to reach my mouth.

"Grind on him, Miss Cheryl. Do you feel his cock against your belly? Dance against it. Lick his mouth you slut, that's how you beg to be used. This isn't about you, it's about us." 

He gave her another. I turned her a little and took a look; her ass was pink, so he wasn't being anywhere near as cruel as I expected. But in her drugged state it was Punishment By Cruel Masters, and she shuddered against me, frantic.

"Let's see what she's like when she only has her mouth," Eric snarled. He grabbed one of her stretchy silk ties, and did her wrists behind her back. Then he forced a kiss from her, forced her mouth against mine, forced it against his own again, then mine again – and gave her another across the ass.

His erection was already massive. 

"Kiss him, slut! And ass out, you know you want another whipping-"

Another slap, and then he worked the vibrator in her briefly, and then rubbed his cock against her rounded, stinging ass. I filled my hands with her breasts and pinched down, and then settled my hand in her hair, kissing back roughly. "You'll be raped," I whispered against her lips, adjusting her fantasy a little. She ground back against Eric like a professional services girl, and I hooked two fingers into her, so her grinding would make her masturbate on my hand. 

Karin slipped into the room, looked over the three of us, and stopped dead, going very expressionless. Eric glanced over at her, smiled darkly, and stepped back. Cheryl got another across the ass, and she sobbed as she kissed me and shuddered on my hand. Eric gave her another, and her moan was suddenly much more arousal than fear.

I gestured to a bedroom, and Karin nodded and went into it. I slid my two fingers deeper into Cheryl and told her to squeeze down on it, over and over, fast. She started to arch towards orgasm again. I let her get close and removed the fingers.

"Eric's going to play a little game with you," I told her, and she shuddered against me. "You're going to take his cock inside you, and you're going to masturbate, but not come. Please him, not yourself, slave. Show him how much you like being a pleasing, hot fucktoy for a ruthless Master."

I disengaged, and joined Karin in the bedroom.

"Well, fuck," she whispered. "That is something to walk in on." Her eyes moved over me, a little unsteadily, and then looked out through the ajar door again. Cheryl was moaning, over and over, then the choking, probably on his fingers.

"Get your sample," I told Karin.

"Yes sir," she said. She opened the bag over her shoulder, and took out a metal disk. She unscrewed the halves, took out a swab, and ran it over my lips and inside my cheek, and then closed it inside the disk. A touch of a button, and there was a faint hissing sound, as cold vapor suddenly surrounded the disk. She dropped it back in her bag. "Mission accomplished."

"Not quite. You're going to stay and observe. In the name of research. You need to understand her addiction."

"I see," she said, expressionless again. "You... may have a point. But I won't go in there with the two of you. That has to be clear."

"It is. Now sit on the bed and watch."

"Yes, sir," she said softly.

She was wearing a black skirt, mid-thigh length, a dark blue pullover top which fit snugly, and shoes which did not scream "fuck this slut". In other words she looked hot, but not begging for it. I stood next to her, naked and very, very erect. She just stared at Eric and Cheryl, not glancing at me.

Her legs became restless, and then her hands. Her nipples hardened, slowly.

I knelt behind her on the bed, letting my erection press against the back of her neck, and then slid my hands over her breasts. She continued to stare fixedly forward. I felt her breathing accelerate.

"I have a boyfriend," she said, a little unsteadily.

"This isn't about that," I said. "Did you enjoy your time with him after our last meeting?"

"I... did." She said.

"Say thank you."

"You're... rather good at this. The little verbal tricks, the air of authority. Getting me to say Thank You as you touch my breasts... you know that would have an effect on me, don't you."

I could see Eric and Cheryl now. Eric pushed Cheryl to a kneel and then brought her face to the floor, and then got behind her. He'd put the belt around her throat, and his foot on the belt.

I pinched her nipples, gently, though her top in reply to her question. Her legs shifted again, pressing together. 

Eric pushed in. Cheryl moved for him, sensuously, clearly desperate to please.

After a long pause, Karin's head began shifting, pressing back against my erection. My pre-cum stained her pretty blonde hair. 

"Fuck," she whispered. "He's not going to let her come, is he."

"Knowing Eric, not until she's given up hope and is resigned to just aching. Then he'll force her to come, over and over and over. He'll probably make her fantasize that it's a rape punishment."

I lifted the tight top up past her breasts, and stroked her belly, gently, with my fingernails. 

"I can see why she's... addicted...," Karin panted. 

I pulled her top the rest of the way off, and then her bra. My throbbing erection pressed against her bare back, and my hands worked her breasts, firmly and just a little cruelly. She was shivering now, shifting back against me in small movements.

"Kick the shoes off," I told her.

"I thought you weren't into feet."

"Do it."

She did.

"Rub your legs together, slowly, as you watch them. Thighs to toes."

She did, and then groaned, softly.

"Slide your hand under the skirt. Rub, through the panties."

Cheryl was pleading now, begging for release. She got her ass slapped, roughly, by Eric's hand. As Karin masturbated, Eric ground against Cheryl, pulled out, and came all over her back. Karin made a tiny whimpering noise.

Slowly, I shifted, curling Karin, then rubbing my cock against her cheek. She trembled, parting her lips, trying not to turn her head, but I stroked it against her, brushing closer and closer to her lips... suddenly she gasped, and her mouth was on me. 

Every guy knows it's true: the first time a girl gives it up to you, whether it's sucking or opening her legs or even just saying yes with her eyes, there's a jolt of sexual energy and urgency that you'll never get again until you find another girl. You might be tired of her ten minutes later, but that first moment with each new girl is a high that no drug ever matches. We're wired to take down woman after woman, and nothing matches the reward we get when we succeed. Karin's mouth moving over my cock had me in flames even the drug in my system couldn't beat.

"Good girl," I growled, softly. "I'm going to fuck you, Karin. I'm going to force you to watch Cheryl get ravished over and over, while you masturbate and work my cock with your naked, desperate body. Take everything off, now."

She shuddered, sucking harder, but make no move to remove the skirt. I snarled and rolled her to her belly, and yanked down the zipper at the back. The skirt was torn down and the panties followed. I slapped her ass, once, hard and then knelt her over the bed, facing the pair in the living room. "Masturbate to what you see," I demanded, settling my hand in her hair and adjusting her position. She didn't resist.

Eric had forced Cheryl to her back on the floor, her legs up in the air, his cock crammed into her again and again. He slapped her face and snapped "Come." She moaned, and he slapped again, and again, barking irresistible commands. "Come for me. Come, slut. Come hard. Come again. Come harder!"

I took my cock in hand and ground it up against Karin's slit. She tilted her hips back, begging to be taken, and I obliged her, pushing in ruthlessly, then slamming her against the bed again and again.

Cheryl's belly convulsed, and then her whole body did. Eric pinned her flat and thrust into her until her orgasm made her scream, and then gushed inside her. Karin's animal whimpers became frantic, she tilted even further to take me deeper. Ruthlessly I pulled back on her hair. I could do this all night, and even though I knew she was trying to fight the orgasm, I watched her body slowly, slowly tighten, growing more and more rigid. "No," she whispered, "No..." but I forced my thumb into her mouth, and she exploded, her slit squeezing and sucking my cock uncontrollably. In the end I poured out inside her, and then, simply because the drug allowed me to, I crawled onto the bed, pushed the head of my cock into her gasping mouth, and jerked off until I came down her throat again. 

She curled against me, still shaking. We listened as Cheryl pleaded for mercy, and then came again. 

"That... shouldn't have happened," Karin said.

"You knew it was a possibility before you came here."

"I won't deny it. But I've never cheated before. Have you?"

"I'm not... noted for that kind of loyalty," I said, dryly. "If it helps... it's like I said. This had nothing to do with anyone else. You're here to help Cheryl. We just had a fringe benefit from our goodness."

"Interesting way of putting it. Holy hell, walking in and seeing her being handled like that by the two of you..."

"Maybe you have some fantasies of your own that could be explored."

"Unlike Cheryl, I believe the darker longings in a woman's soul are actually very bad ideas; they are just projections of the amygdalae and nothing that should be blindly obeyed. Fuck, look at her. She tries to crawl away from him but then he just impales her like that and she's instantly pre-orgasmic. No wonder the stuff is so addictive."

"Hot, isn't it."

"I'm a once and done kind of girl. But what I'm seeing now is going to show up in my sexual daydreams for a long time." She looked at me. "You're, um..."

"The drug from her kisses is still at it." I knelt over Karin. "Get me off again. Use your hands."

She stared at my cock, and then her hands crept over it. She worked me, staring up at my face. My gaze wandered from her face and breasts, to Cheryl's shuddering and desperate effort to get Eric off without coming again herself, and back to Karin's face... when I came again I pushed my cock down and sprayed Karin's torso. She shuddered, more in overwhelmed shock than need.

"Rub it into your skin."

She did, listening to Cheryl come again. One more time, I decided, and curled Karin on her side, ass towards me.

"I won't... I mean I really am done..." she said.

"But right now that's not what's important to me," I said, and I gripped her breast and throat from behind, and worked into her over and over, just taking. She whimpered a little, and then started rocking against me. I came inside her, and then sagged, the madness in my veins receding.

"That's just kind of awe inspiring," she said. "The sheer animal nature of your response on that stuff. A woman who can summon that with her kisses might not want to give it up."

"I doubt she does. She's had a few years of rather dispassionate and casual cruelty from her fucktard of a boyfriend. Raw passion is something she's reveling in. But look at her," I said. "She's getting more and more fucked up. She's been given toys that mean she can have Black X experiences alone. It's like giving an alcoholic a bar that's always stocked. Maybe it sounds stupid after I just took advantage of you, but... I'm serious when I say I'm finally seeing an ethical problem in the way the Company is doing business. Cheryl made a tiny mistake and this is how she's being treated. Just because she's hot to watch doesn't mean I don't understand how wrong this has become."

"I'm trying to be dispassionate about her plight," Karin said. "It would, ah, help if you'd slide your junk back out of me."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 07



"Oh, sorry." I slid out, and chuckled as my cock fell against the sheets like a dead thing.

"Bullshit you are sorry, sir. But thank you, that helps. So as I see this, her problem is induced and conditioned sexual addiction. Women get overly compliant when the sex is mind-blowing because evolution has conditioned them to believe they found the right mate when they and the man both come a lot. Evolution is kind of stupid that way. Her primitive wiring tells her that she's somewhere where every man she meets is perfect, so caution and self-control are decaying. She's hooked on constant sexual highs. As long as she keeps getting fixes, this gets worse and worse. Until finally... she picks the wrong man and ends up in a deeply abusive relationship she no longer has the will to find her way out of. Her social patterns fall apart, she becomes unreliable at work, she gets fired for cause, and now she's utterly at the mercy of whoever will have her. It's a very, very bad end for Cheryl."

"I'd actually imagined a worse one."

"Always possible. But I think you see that there's no possible good ending, only terrible ones."

"Fix it."

"I'm a bio engineer. This takes more of a psych. But I think I know what they will tell you – she has to be separated from her supply and her men and confined, until her responses normalize."

"A hospital stay?"

"It's all I can think of. I have no idea what the success rate would be. Probably very poor if she has a thing for doctors. She's got one of those bodies that men just love to take advantage of, doesn't she."

"It looks like Eric thinks so."

"He's kissing her again. When does he get enough?"

"I told him to keep her busy until we leave."

"Then in the name of anything merciful let's get out of here."

+++

I got her to her car.

"Get in," she said.

"Um..."

"Coffee at my apartment."

I got in. "Not to be totally crude, but the drug is out of my system and I'm, um, useless. After an experience like that I literally wrap my cock in a warm compress and then an ace bandage."

She chuckled. "Nursey will help you with that. But I wasn't planning on asking for more cock. I was thinking of, you know... talking."

"Oh. That thing women do."

She nodded. "Home," she told the car.

We small talked on the way, and then she got me into her apartment. It was small but nice, reminding me a bit of Cheryl's.

"First, I start coffee. Then, the warm compress."

She attended to these, and when she reentered the room it was in shorts and a tight T, with a warm compress and an ace bandage on a tray. "Strip," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," I chuckled, but pulled the pants off. 

"The rest as well, slave," she said sternly. I gave her a bemused smile, and got naked.

She knelt down and squeezed my cock, gently. "You really are immense," she said. "One of those dicks that women just stare at, and then realize they licked their lips and are playing with their hair..." She wrapped the compress around it, and squeezed it slowly, over and over. It felt wonderful. The bandage around that reduced the throbbing.

She went back for the coffee, and I admired her ass in the shorts, in a very dispassionate way. 

She set down the cups, and looked at me. "I just want to say it. I know your interest in Cheryl isn't exactly disinterested. I mean it's a guaranteed lay anytime you visit her. But you seem to be genuinely interested in helping, even though she'll be less... pleasing, I think you'd call it... afterwards. It's not a match for your reputation and it's not the usual behavior I expect from... well, any man, especially not the Company guys. I'm impressed."

She settled in, next to me. The short shorts emphasized her legs, and I briefly wished my cock wasn't useless. 

She sipped from her cup. "The guys I know... they wouldn't lift a finger to help her. I've been going over the list in my head, not one of them would. So I'm just a little... fascinated by your motivations, you know?"

"So I am," I leaned back. "It's mostly because of my latest acquisition. She comes from a different place and she's new to the company and her world view... I mean bottom line, she got me to think about my attitudes from a different perspective. I don't worry much about right and wrong, but..." I shrugged.

"You got in trouble recently. Now you're fucking with the Company's revenge. And you're ok with that kind of risk?"

"I don't think I'm ready for a hero's medal, Karin. So far it's not much risk. But I don't know what to do next. I'm only assuming you can do something about the bacteria in her system. I have no idea about the addiction. Getting her admitted to a hospital – I suppose drug addiction is something they deal with but there are going to be questions asked at that point."

"And whoever's doing this to her must know that a hospital stay is a possibility, and they must have answers lined up when it happens."

"Probably. But my involvement could come out at that point. Hell, so could yours."

She smiled, with both grimness and quirkiness. "Take her home and chain her up in your apartment?"

"I have a gir-"

I stopped. Had I really just been about to say girlfriend? I, Gladgrind, sworn to fun, loyal to none, known for being the bad medicine girls loved to swallow?

"-that is to say, I just don't see that working out. We could chain her up here..."

"I'm sure my boyfriend would thank me, but frankly I don't want that kind of competition hanging around. And he'd insist on threesomes. He's already pushing for one, and it's pissing me off."

"Very much not your thing."

"With the right two men – that I'd known for ages and trusted completely – I don't know, maybe, just once. But with another girl, no, that's never happening."

"Ok, so, I don't know where that leaves us. Every time I see her she's a little worse, a little more screwed up, I guess you'd say. Deep down I know that it demands a response. But what?"

She looked into my eyes, for a long moment. Then she leaned in and kissed my lips, lightly and warmly.

"That," she said, "is my little gift to you for being so... decent."

"Mmm. Why thank you."

"And this," she said, standing up, "... is my little gift to me."

She took off the shirt and shorts; she was naked underneath. She slid herself into my lap, positioning lightly on my sore junk, slid an arm around my neck, and kissed my mouth again.

"Karin, there is no way I –"

"Shush, you. This is for me, not you. Even if you could fuck me I don't think it would get me off. But if I just curl against you, and slowly stroke myself, like this... not rushing, just... reveling, you know?... I could come again, I think. The things I saw are still roiling around in my head... and I'm not as fond of touching myself when alone as some girls. Let me just kiss you, and touch myself, and come in your lap until I cool off enough to sleep."

"And if I touch you?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't, um, take charge. Right now I'm kind of grooving to the sweet, caring Mr Gladgrind that I bet only you and your girlfriend know about. So if you touch me, just... help me get there, ok? For once I want to get off in the lap of a decent man."

Her mouth pressed against mine, and her lips parted. I tongued her mouth, but she put her finger across my lips. "No," she murmured against my ear. "Just let me... don't make me, just let me."

If I hadn't been utterly sated, it would never have worked. But her mouth moved over mine, and her hands slid lightly over her own throat, breasts and belly. And then over her long, pretty legs. It took her forever to settle a fingertip against her slit, and she teased it open, very slowly, very gently. When her fingertip was finally damp, she tickled herself, very slowly and lightly, just under her clit.

"Nice," she whispered. "I never get to do this. I'd be on the floor by now, being called slut and bitch and cunt. Not that that's so bad, but this..."

Her fingertip settled over her clit, circled it quickly, and then went back to the slow, teasing tickle just underneath. For five minutes that's all she did, kissing my mouth gently and teasing her clit into a hard nub. Then, almost shyly, she slid her finger in, purring softly against my lips. She curled it, and drew it back out, still curled. Then got a low, deep moan from her, and her kissing turned deeper.

Lightly, I brought my hands up over her sides. She was very warm. I cupped the sides of her breasts, and moved my thumbs lightly over her nipples. That got another soft moan, and more passionate kisses. 

She turned herself, lying along the length of me, facing out, both her hands shifting between her legs, her head tilted far back to kiss my mouth. One of her hands circled her clit; the other slid a finger in, curled it, pulled it out, slid up and down the length of her slit, repeated...

"So hot," she whispered, breathily. "Both watching what you did to her, and what I'm feeling now. I feel so pretty – not fuckable, just hot. I love using my ass to warm your sore cock, I love knowing you're looking down the length of my body and memorizing the shape of it, and I love the sensuality of being able to please myself without feeling pressure to get you off. Can you feel me getting hotter and hotter? But it's from the inside out. It's not being coerced from outside. It's from deep within me, and it's going to build and build and build..."

I stroked her nipples, slowly, knowing it wasn't time to squeeze down. I could feel her heartbeat in them. Then her legs became restless, sliding slowly against each other, stroking my legs with her toes, perching them on the cushions so she could tilt her hips up. Her fingertips played lightly in my hair, and her torso began to move, sinuously. That got my cock throbbing, painfully, but I decided against complaining.

Her kisses lingered and clung, and then a second finger slid inside her. "Oh.... Having her have to kiss you over and over as she was spanked... Mr Gladgrind what that did to her... and what it did to me..."

She arched her back, invitingly. My hands shifted to a gentle pulling motion, not a pinch, just a massage that drew the nipples upward. That brought a low, shuddering moan, and she sucked my lower lip, and then just looked into my eyes with a wide eyed, soft stare. Her belly began to twitch, and she whispered "Halfway there..."

Lightly she settled her fingers on either side of her clit, and then she started to give it slow, tiny squeezes. Her breath became ragged, and when I gently bit her lower lip, the moans became frantic.

"Please let me pick when," she whispered. "I promise you it will be long and worth watching."

I could feel her pulse everywhere now – in her lips, in her nipples, and in her belly. I pet it slowly, firmly, and that made her hands move faster and her kisses more erratic. I bit her lips again, to hold her still. Suddenly her fingers were flicking inside her, slapping against favorite spots. She tensed, slowly, so slowly, her toes running lightly along my ankles, then rising into the air...

"Oh fuck... You... forced me to watch and then just... just... you just took me-"

I caught her nipples between my fingers again, and drew slowly upwards, twisting, making her arch, tighter and tighter...

"Oh... oh fuck... yes... YES... Oh FUCK YES..."

Her body rocked against mine and she whimpered, over and over, wordless now. Remembering what has set or off last time, I slid my hand around, and gently pushed a fingertip just a little into her anus, and her breath stopped as her body became a frozen shuddering arch, every tendon tight, her belly contracting furiously. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and slid it back and forth quickly, and she gave one tiny, tiny squeak... and then her body convulsed, over and over... her eyes staring into mine and then sliding helplessly closed...

When she was nearly liquid in my lap, I gathered her up and laid her on her bed, and gave her a kiss on the nose.

"You're nice, Mr. Gladgrind," she murmured, "And I bet no one knows it. I'll keep your secret for you. Lucky Julianne... And I'll help Cheryl, somehow. That poor girl..."

She was asleep. 

I had a sudden and deep longing to see Julianne.

+++

I went home. I was tired – Cheryl's drug made you an invincible machine while it lasted, but afterwards you paid a price. But even as I rinsed off and hit the sheets, my mind was racing wildly.

Karin had come in my lap, over and over. Not because I'd made her. Because she'd wanted to be there. I knew all about coercing sexual response and getting women to crave the coercion. And it had gotten me girls like Cecily and Suzie. I knew very little about this other kind of non-coercive sexuality, the kind where Karin gave me a soft kiss and then needed my lap.

I wanted that with Julianne. I wanted it suddenly, and hard, and the thought of someone else putting pressure on her to provide sexual favors...

I tossed, suddenly angry. At what I didn't know. At myself, for not knowing what I needed to know to deliberately make Julianne give me what I'd accidentally elicited from Karin. At the world I lived in that had made it easy to treat women as casual amusements without ever wondering if there was another way to think. At the ass-reaming I'd gotten at the hands of people who were doing what they were doing at Cheryl. At whoever was pulling on Julianne.

Pissed off, I got out of bed and did some weights. It didn't help and I was too worn out to do them safely, so I stalked into the kitchen and ate a banapple. Julianne didn't like these, I thought. She'd liked the strawberries, though, and I'd brought more home for her, but she'd left before she'd seen them. They wouldn't keep forever. 

I stared at the strawberries. 

And then I was connecting up to work and prowling the HR database and beating my way through the temporary transfers records, and I still couldn't see who had arranged it all but the temporary housing stipend was there and – yes! – it was possible to see where it was being paid to. Ten seconds later I had the hotel she was at.

Three minutes later I was dressed and in the car with a bag of strawberries and something burning inside me that I didn't understand but had to obey. I was going to see my sky-damned girlfriend and the world could go fuck itself if it had a problem with that.



Why I Love My Job Ch. 08



I didn't get to the hotel until 4, and I was able to get a little sleep in the car. When the car pulled in, I looked around -- decent hotel but nothing fancy, in what probably passed for a decent part of this city. I switched the car to hotel control, and it wandered off to park itself. I hadn't packed anything except strawberries.

I flipped open the phone. After a minute, a very sleepy voice greeted me.

"Sir... it's four. Seriously?"

"I'm downstairs. I'd like to see you."

"You're..." a sleepy pause. "Who says I'm alone?"

Cold rage flowed over me. "Are you?"

She sighed. "Yes. As it turns out. There, you've got room access now. Room 313." She clicked out. I went in.

+++

I opened the door into a dark room, and found the bedroom. It was dimly lit from her phone, which showed 04:12. I really wasn't being very thoughtful. I ducked into the tiny kitchenette, which had been used, but only to prepare foodpacs. I sighed, softly, and put the strawberries in the fridge for the moment.

I crept back into the bedroom, slipped out of my shirt and pants, and slid under the covers. She stirred again, sleepily.

"Sir... why?"

The one question I really didn't want to answer; but the only one she could have possibly asked.

"I missed you. And I wanted you to have your strawberries."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

Her hand shifted, under the covers. "You're not naked. Well, not entirely."

"No. I'm not."

Slowly, she sat up and waved for some light. The lights faded up to dim.

"Strawberries?"

"You like strawberries."

"I love strawberries," she said, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Just not at four. Even six would be better... and thirteen would have been lovely."

"Then let's eat them at thirteen. Oh... you have work."

"Not today. Part of the deal was a six day workweek."

"Whoever he is," I said, "He wants you. Has he made his move yet?"

She studied my face, carefully. "He's indicated interest. But no. Not yet."

"I-"

She watched me as I fought for words. The words themselves were simple, my mouth just didn't like them. She waited.

"I want you to come back with me."

"Why?"

"I miss you."

"And you're jealous."

"You have no fucking idea," I said suddenly. "Neither did I until now. Julianne, he can't have you."

"Why?"

"I want you more." I paused. "Alright, I get it, ok? That's not enough. I want you to want this too. I didn't know how much."

"Then make me want it. Make me want to spend time with you. You're good on the sex stuff, sir. You can make me burn, but can you make me care?"

"I've never had to before."

"It shows."

"I brought you strawberries."

"It's the first right thing you've ever done. How is Cheryl?"

"She's bad."

"Did you fuck her?"

"No." Don't, I thought. Don't ask about anyone else.

"You. You, Mister Gladgrind didn't fuck that hunk of begging Asian hotness."

"Eric handled it. It doesn't really take two. We got a sample and I've given it to someone who might be able to work out the next step. Nothing yet. Why are we talking about her? I'm here for you."

"I'm still getting over that." She gripped me, though the underwear. "You're not even hard. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Did you bring the collar?"

"No."

"Wait. Really?"

"I brought strawberries. Period."

"I-" she stared into my face. "Just when I thought you were all figured out."

"I don't think much of anything is figured out yet. Can I kiss you?"

"You ask permission, these days?"

"Normally no. This feels different. Fucking skies, Julianne. Do you know how hard it is for me to ask things like this? Come back with me."

"I'd be fired. You should understand this, sir. Everyone's got the same hold over me. I don't want to live in poverty. Apparently that leaves me open to the highest interested authority in the Company. If you want me back you're going to have to do a few things. One of them is get this assignment changed."

"Who brought you here."

"I'm not allowed to say."

"Tell me. This isn't a game, Julianne."

"Isn't it, for you?"

I stared at her, angrily. After a bit, her eyes went down. "Bill Naros."

I blinked. Bill, the historian. My contact with R&D, back home. He didn't even live around here. I sat up in fury, flipped open my phone, and tapped.

"Hello, Scott. Early morning for you isn't it?"

"Bill. What the fuck are you doing with Julianne."

"Yeah, I figured this was about that. Pretty little thing. And she's very unhappy with you. I think you had your chance, Scott."

"Let her go now."

"Don't see why I should. She's pretty miserable. You're not the best thing for her, you know. Go back to sleep, she's snug and safe and I plan to be nicer than you are."

"She's snug and safe and I'm with her right now. And what the hell, Bill. We've been friends for years."

"We have. It doesn't mean you're not a piece of shit when it comes to girls, though. She's bright and might have some future in Research someday. Under your thumb she'll never get there."

"And how does a historian have the pull to yank girls around?"

"You never checked the org chart? Historian is an inner circle position. It has to be, I know shit about the Company and its dealings that make me a liability if I'm not paid to be an asset."

"So you can pull Cheryl out of trouble?"

"Not that inner circle. Samuel isn't someone I'd ever cross. Let's just say I know more about the situation than I let on and I'd get her out if I could. But let's keep this conversation about Miss Julianne. I want her. If you have a problem with that, let's see you solve it."

"Can I join this conversation?" Julianne said, a little acidly. I nodded, and we tapped phones.

"Maybe I can give a little input, sirs," she said. "Mister Naros, you're too old for me, sir. And you know very well that I only came here to get back at Mr. Gladgrind."

"Fully aware, pretty one. I'd have slept with you and then set you free, out from under Gladgrind's thumb."

She frowned. "Everyone wants to make me all about sex."

"Well, of course," Bill and I said in accidental unison. She didn't smile.

"Let her go, Bill," I said.

"Miss Julianne," he said. "I'll be honest, I only pulled you to teach Scott a little lesson, and to get a grateful screw from a pretty girl. But I promised myself that if Scott actually went to some effort on your behalf, I'd reconsider. Maybe this is his way of trying. And he's genuinely trying to help Cheryl, as far as I can tell. I don't know where all this new behavior of his is coming from, but maybe it's coming from you, Miss. So I'm going to do something Mister Gladgrind here isn't so good at. I'm going to give you a choice. Keeping in mind that you're at least the sixth piece of Company skirt he's dragged to bed... do you really want to go back? Look at him."

She did. "I'd consider it, only on one condition," she said.

"Yes?" I stared at her.

"Release the debt and the agreements. I'm free to choose. Put me back to being a regular employee, regular pay and hours, all of it."

"And back in your apartment?"

She hesitated, and blushed.

"Let the record show that she indicated she rather likes my bed," I said to Bill.

Bill chuckled "Julianne, sweetheart, when you're with the company longer you'll learn to bargain better. Back to your entry level position? Red triangle? You can have Orange triangle in ten minutes. He's got his phone and can promote you immediately."

"Bill, you fucking bastard. I don't promote the girls in my bed. When that gets around she's going to have everyone knowing she's something special."

Julianne just looked at me. Bill laughed. "You've got some learning to do as well, Scott. When you can actually admit she's something special, maybe she won't run away from you."

"I brought her strawberries..."

Bill snorted. "Without dark chocolate dipping sauce? Uncivilized pig."

"You can afford chocolate?" Julianne said, eyes widening at me.

"Well, I can..." Bill said. "So if you want to reconsider staying on..."

"Alright! You're both bastards," I said. "Debt forgiven. Normal work week. I'll put you in for early promotion after six months of flawless service. But come home with me and don't go near Bill again. You don't know how bad he is. And I haven't changed that much, Julianne. You still get spanked when you cause trouble. Just because I like you, doesn't mean the rest changes."

"You like me, sir? Lots of people like me."

"This is where I say goodnight," said Bill. "You two have fun. The transfer will go through this morning."

He clicked out. We closed our phones.

I sighed. I'd been soundly beaten and I did not like losing.

"Are you going to run again, Julianne? You're free now. Did I just kiss you goodbye, without even the kiss?"

"Sir," she said. "It pains me to point this out to you, because a man of your advanced years should know all this. But by freeing me you gave yourself the best chance you'll ever have of keeping me around. But you are going to prove your sincerity. Get back under the covers, go to sleep. No sex tonight. If you can't handle that I'll know I don't mean much to you."

"I... agree," I said, hesitating ever so slightly. She'd never know that my cock was so sore I wouldn't have been able to anyway.

+++

We had strawberries for breakfast. She stared at me the whole time, as if I was a stranger and needed watching.

I checked -- Bill had been the man of his word, and given Julianne her transfer back to me, given her today off with pay for her move, and tossed in a commendation for good work. Which meant promoting her -- in six months -- would be easy.

"You're scared," I said, suddenly.

"You're scary," she said. "When you just wanted to fuck me I knew what to expect. Maybe you still do. You've bluffed before."

"If all I wanted was sex, I wouldn't have gone through all this. This was hard for me."

"That's the only reason I'm going back with you."

"Let's talk about reasons," I said. "The sex is good and you like the food. But you've expressed some grave reservations about me. And you're still going back."

"What are you asking? If I'm whoring it for good meals?"

"Stop it. We're not looking for a fight. But something has happened here, something I'm pretty sure neither of us expected. We're both on edge, trying to figure out what everything means. Does that explain it? Curiosity?"

She hesitated. "I... it's complicated. You're overwhelming. Look, I'm not going to deny that as much as I hate what you did with me, just pouncing and demanding... it's also hot, and fascinating. You took me. I feel... taken. I responded to it, even though I know you didn't have the right. Maybe that's why I responded. Maybe I just like bad men. You're intense, angry, compelling and you'll fuck anything that moves -- but you latched on to me in a way that everyone says you haven't before and that made me latch back, somehow. Maybe deep down I always wanted this, always wanted to be the captured woman. I don't know! My soldier friends -- they were beyond respectful, they were angelic -- and there were nights I wished one of them would just -- rip my clothes off, carry me out of camp, make me serve him. Of course it's not so scary to think in that way - I trusted them. They'd never have really hurt me. And somehow I feel that you're the same way -- you won't hurt me. Not deliberately. You're greedy but there's no malice. And that's not as common as you'd believe, men can be... I don't want to say dark or evil or any of that because those words can have erotic meanings and that's not what I mean. Men can be wretched. Your friend Tom is. The Vice President who had you abused is. Greg is. But you're not, and I know this because of Cheryl and because of, well, like you said, if it was just sex you'd never have talked that way to Bill. Sex is something you can have on demand, there's Suzie and all the other girls roaming the hallways hoping to get noticed. I'm not even that good at it; you could have more experienced girls in bed. So I know you want me for something else and sir, I'll just say it, I want to be what... what you're looking for. I hated it when it was just sex but it's not that way now, is it."

"It's not."

"Then you tell me. What is it?"

I smiled at her, a little grimly. "It would be so easy to kiss and touch you right now. Sex can be a way to avoid talking. But I won't let myself, because I've been taking the easy way out with everything -- women, work, my own view of right and wrong. I'm learning that whatever's comfortable, whatever's easy, whatever's simple -- they are the wrong answers every time."

"Then?"

"I'm fascinated by you. It took me a while to understand it. You live naturally in a world I don't inhabit, a world where right and wrong mean you have to do something. You have an innocence that's almost hypnotic. I think you're just... good. I'm not. I never have been. But good is fascinating. It's rare, unusual, unspoiled... I'm sorry, I'm making a mess of the words. You're somehow stronger than you look. Women collapse under me, they turn into Suzie, whimpering about sex with nothing else in their heads. It's not as fun as it sounds. You didn't collapse. You inspire..." I struggled to find words. "You make me want to be a better person. I want you around because I don't know if I could be a better person without you. At least, it would never have occurred to me to try. I need you to... to... in order to be a better me."

"Oh," she said softly, and kissed me. "I think that might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"So that's it? You're fascinated by my badness, and I'm fascinated by your goodness?"

She considered. "You have a nice cock, too. Which I'd kind of like to have all to myself?"

"Too much to ask, this early on."

"In bed, I'll be anything you want and do anything you ask. But it hurts when you're with other girls. That was the hard part of going with Mister Naros -- I knew you'd be free to do whatever you wanted."

"He'd have done you."

"I'd have let him. But..." she blushed. "I'd have thought of you."

"That doesn't really count. But let's go back to the apartment and think about the attractiveness of goodness and badness."

She nodded.

+++

We spent a couple of days just... talking. Don't judge me; even guys have to talk sometime. Topics ranged from poker, to her taste in music, to the dietary advantages of banapples, to a long discussion about my sexual preferences. For that discussion I stripped, put on shorts, undressed her, sat her in my lap and proceeded to describe her body as it looked, felt and tasted to me; and described in slow, tortuous detail all the things I was going to do to it. I required her to stay silent the entire time, and I didn't touch her except to play with her hair. When I was done she'd soaked my shorts, she was panting softly, squirming, and rubbing her legs together slowly. I didn't fuck her, in part because I was experimenting with not instantly doing whatever the hell I wanted, in part because I knew that after a day of simmering she'd be so needy that she'd beg. That night we did our little ritual of sitting her in my naked lap and having her rub my pussy over my cock, and then I collared her and laid her in bed; but told her to go to sleep. She spent a fitful night, and muttered in her sleep.

+++

The next day, I exchanged some messages with Karin. She'd confirmed her suspicious about Cheryl, and found that the bacteria that had been used could be wiped out by any of a number of broad-spectrum antibiotics. But she had no information about breaking the conditioning and addiction, only the belief that the longer Cheryl went on, the worst she'd get. She also pointed out that reinfecting Cheryl would not be complicated if someone went to the effort. She ended the note bleakly: "This isn't a problem with a biological solution. This requires social engineering. I'll get you antibiotics and drugs to ease cravings but in the end, in the presence of an active assailant, that's not enough."

I thought about it and she was right. Cheryl couldn't stay with the Company.

I called Eric, over lunch, away from the building.

"How's your sex life?"

"Scott. I didn't know you cared. It's random but pretty awesome. I've picked up Suzie, and am seeing a new girl, Annie, on the side."

"I think you need more. We need to get Cheryl out of the Company and holed up somewhere. In chains if necessary. I think you're the best fit."

"There's a joke in there that I'm not going to make. Let me get this straight. You want to kidnap Cheryl, get her fired, and keep her unemployed and desperate ass chained up at my place, so I can fuck her until the cravings stop."

"Look, I know it's not ideal. But a hospital stay means the Company can pull strings and fuck with her treatment. She won't get better."

"Do we even know what the withdrawal is going to be like? I mean does she literally need to be chained up?"

"The Saint Andrew's cross would do it."

"You can't just leave someone in one of those. Who is going to babysit her while I work?"

"We can hire services for that very easily."

"What you're proposing is illegal, possibly unethical, and for all we know dangerous to her health."

"So, a step up from her current circumstance."

"Scott, I get that her life sucks. And I can see why you aren't going to James or Greg or Tom for this. But this is lunatic fringe even by my standards. I can't even say I'd enjoy the lunatic fringe benefits because without her drug she's probably not going to be a lot of fun."

"She was plenty of fun before she was addicted. But that's not the point. Not everything is about fun."

"...said 'Sworn to fun, loyal to none Gladgrind.'"

"The slogan no longer applies."

"So you're serious about Julianne now? You? She deserves better."

"Shit, Eric!"

"I'm laying it out straight. You're an addict too, you know. To having it all your own way and taking anything you can. I'm not judging; I'm not that different, and doesn't it rock to be a male in the modern world. But you can't even stick with one girl for over six months. She's a decent kid with a little more spirit and backbone than some of what shows up in the secretarial pool. You'll either crush her or end up strangling her in a rage."

"And people can't change?"

"Why, do you want to?"

"Looks like I do."

"Miss Julianne has totally fucked with your head, Scott."

"Or maybe she's unfucking it. Look, this is about Cheryl."

"Yeah, it is. I'm sorry, she can't be here. I have too much going on and there's no way I'm anyone babysitter. If you don't want her, the hospitals are your best bet. Sorry."

He clicked out.

Yeah, I thought. Everyone's got too much going on to help another human being out. I did, too -- whatever was forming with Julianne was fragile, too fragile to have a sex-crazed Cheryl near.

Or did my newfound moral obligations require me to put things with Julianne on hold until I'd taken care of Cheryl?

No. Damnit, Cheryl would be irresistible. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off her and Julianne would leave. Fuck it, why did women expect men to keep their hands off other women? It made no fucking sense, their bodies begged for it, but it caused instant drama... I sighed. I couldn't change the world, and I certainly couldn't change women.

I pulled out the phone. "Call Bill."

"Mister Gladgrind. All settled with Julianne?"

"Getting there, Bill. I have to ask a favor."

"I'm not taking Cheryl."

"Um... oh. Bill, you have connections, you know people all over the Company. You must know someone who will put up with her for a few weeks or whatever it takes to break the addiction."





Why I Love My Job Ch. 08



"Let me give you the benefit of something you don't know, Scott. Samuel is not done with her. When she's utterly addicted and broken she's going to be used for some other trials, a black project I can't even tell you about. You snatch her now and put her anywhere, and the hunt is on for her and anyone who had involvement. You won't survive, and I don't just mean politically."

I shivered a little.

"Bill... you're not a bad sort. You watched out for Julianne. You can't be good with this."

"I'm not. All I can tell you is that the Company has taken a pivot recently and it's going in a direction that a few people are concerned about and no one knows how to stop. Trust me when I tell you that I know how you feel about what you know, because I know more and I feel worse. But if you intervene now, you could vanish and it could be Julianne used for trials next. That's how this goes -- people who know a little too much either take up airless scuba diving or end up like Cheryl. And the problem isn't just Samuel-"

"That fucking piece of ass raping cum-stained shit eating cunt! I'll take his balls off with a rusty spork!"

"Not if you're dead. Look, I have the beginnings of an idea, but I need more time. Visit Cheryl occasionally, be kind to her. I will as well -- she's a free-for-use toy right now for those that know about her, so no one will ask questions about guys visiting. I'll let you know if something else can be done. We'll talk again."

He clicked out.

+++

I got home a little stressed that night. I had some reason for it, I thought. First an ass-raping, then the realization that the Company casually broke women because of personal vendettas, then Bill's hint that however dark I thought it all was, I wasn't even aware of all the black yet. I was starting to wonder whether simply working for a place like this, knowing what I knew, was itself an ethical problem. And what would I do if it was? Work services? Live like the unwashed masses? I didn't even know how. I settled into a chair and sank deep into wondering about the world.

When I looked up, Julianne was in a tight white tee shirt and white shorts. I eyed her, slowly. Once upon a time in a mood like this I'd have grabbed her by the hair, torn her clothing off and fucked her. I'd have called it dominance but it would have been a hate-fuck. Not hate at Julianne; hate at the world, for which Julianne's body would have been a lovely if hapless replacement. Women got off on rough, demanding sex, so I'd gotten away with it for years. Julianne got off on it hard, whether she liked it or not. But I was coming to realize that what a woman's body loved and what a woman needed, weren't always the same. It was almost as if their minds and bodies were different things. I was glad I never had to live like that.

She settled behind me and started to rub my shoulders. "If Sir doesn't mind?"

"Sir absolutely does not." When she got to the sides of my neck I gave a little involuntary groan. "I think I love you," I said, eyes closing on their own, and my head falling back.

"Sir doesn't know how, he said once," she said, very softly. Her hair brushed against my face.

"A man has to learn sometime, and you'd be the best teacher in the world."

I opened my eyes again. She was bent over me, her hair a cascade all around my face, hiding the world from me. Her wide-set eyes were quiet, shimmering pools in the darkness, and for the first time I realized what lambent meant. Slowly, I reached up, and ran my fingertip across her lips, parting them. She licked them.

"I haven't, um, had sex or even touched myself since, um... we last did anything. Those were your rules."

"When you were transferred, I imagined you were ignoring those rules."

"I imagined that too. A lot. But I couldn't actually do it."

I stroked her lips again. "Don't lick."

"I thought you liked my lips wet-"

"Or speak."

I stroked again and again, keeping her lips parted. Her eyes got wider, and then she kissed my fingertip, pressing her tongue against it, very softly.

"Or kiss," I murmured. I pressed my fingertip deeper into her mouth, very lightly caressing the inside of her lips. After a few seconds, her eyes fluttered closed.

My hands shifted to her neck and throat, and petted them, pulling her lower by slow degrees, towards my mouth. Her eyes opened again, openly pleading and needy now. "S-sir?"

"You're interrupting a kiss. This better be important."

"Um... no, I'm just being a girl. It's just... no bra or panties."

"I noticed."

"And somehow I thought you'd just... take. But this is more like seduction. You don't have to do that. You already got me used to you just... having me. I just didn't expect-"

"You're right, this is not an important conversation." I stroked her lips again, and her eyes closed helplessly. I returned to massaging the sides and back of her neck, and lightly running my thumb over the hollow of her throat. She started to pant, and I drew her lower, and lower...

I kissed her mouth, and then ran the tip of my tongue around her lips, making them wet myself. I slid my hands further down, letting her breasts fill them. It was very tight, thin cloth and my thumbs began to make slow circles over her nipples. Her hands suddenly got unsteady, drifting over my shoulders and chest.

"I can make you burn... but I need to make you care," I said, softly against your lips. "But that's started to happen and we both know it. Don't kiss back yet. We both know how this trick works. When you can't kiss back, you want to more and more. I'll fill you to overflowing with the need to please me and sate me, but worse, I'll make you want to do it well. I will make a little confession. I broke into your poetry collection. So now I know that when a woman is made to desire hard enough, she comes to care about the man even if she desperately doesn't want to. I also know that being given strawberries is what finally made you..."

"Unfair," she whispered raggedly. "It was locked. How did you..."

"Maybe you shouldn't have chosen such a simple password."

"It was one you'd never guess. I was sure. I was so sure."

I pinched down on her nipples, very gently, and used them to guide her down into a deep, slow kiss. She kissed back uncontrollably.

"Unfair," she whispered again. "I'm so needy right now. I can't think. You're supposed to pound me with your cock and then I'd be sane again."

"I know your password, Julianne. It's love. Once I realized you wanted me to guess it, wanted me to read, wanted me to understand it, it was an obvious guess. You're shaking now. I know too much now, I know everything. You're revealed. Let's make you a symbol of that. Stand in front of me and undress."

She nodded, and took my collar from her pocket and put it on. Then the clothing slid off. She stood before me, long hair brushing hard nipples, hips shifting slowly as her legs pressed together, lips still parted and begging for another kiss. I just admired the art of her face and body for a moment.

I drew her into my lap. We kissed again, and her lips clung, soft and warm. I stroked her shoulders and back, and then returned to the fullness of her breasts, rubbing them from the sides. She pressed them against my chest, through my shirt, and then made an inpatient noise, and unbuttoned my shirt. I adjusted her legs so she was kneeling over me, the way she'd been when she'd imitated the actress in my porn collection and gotten me so hungry I'd completely lost it. She shivered as I posed her, remembering. Once my shirt was open she rubbed herself against me, sensuously, and got busy on my belt and zipper next.

"If you take that out I'll stop kissing you," I whispered.

Her hands moved indecisively between my zipper and my neck, and back, and back again... then she decided, and wound her hands around my neck and kissed me, wetly and passionately, over and over. My cock emerged without further help, making a stiff pillar of need. Her thigh brushed against it, and she looked down, freezing, licking her lips and staring hungrily.

"I... want it...."

She shifted forward, but I took her hips in my hands and controlled her, rubbing her slit against my cock, over and over. I burned, but I'd always taken the easy way, just taking... for once I was going to do this slowly, I was going to tease us both mad with need and the desire to please each other.

But I'd forgotten about her hands, and they both slid over my cock, working it up and down quickly and firmly. When I growled, she bent my cock to her pussy. Her soft moan, and the way her head fell back as I throbbed against her, was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. Her was throat, exposed, vulnerable; her hair all flowing back, aching to be taken in my hands; her nipples, upthrust and sensually alluring in their movement as she panted... I licked the hollow of her throat and she sobbed helplessly and tried to sink down on me, but I didn't allow it.

"You want to make me say please," she half-sobbed.

"No. For once I just want to feel the sensation of slowly filling you. Kiss me." I pulled her by the collar back into the kiss, and pinned her there, kissing her hungrily, and letting my other hand work my cock into her, little by little. She was hot wet silk, clenching and massaging my cock. Suddenly her hips began bucking -- my cock had gotten to that spot inside her that made her turn desperate.

"Take," she whispered. "You don't have to go slow. Just... take me."

"No. Too easy. You want this, you want to be mine as much as I want to make you be mine. You're going to give yourself to me." I said. I slid my hand over her again, petting her ass, then running fingernails lightly over it. Whimpering helplessly, she licked my mouth and began to work my cock.

It was glorious, but it was still too fast. I wanted to make this girl mine, not by conquest but by kindness. New ground for me, but I understood the basics. If she just got me off now -- and she was already trying -- we'd be back to the old way of thinking -- enslavement, demands, and no trust at all.

"Wait," I whispered against her ear, panting already. "Come to the bedroom. I want to do this a little differently."

"You know I'm already burning, right?" she whispered.

I slipped out of her. "Look down," I said. "Look at that hard, thick cock. You can see the precum trickling. I can tell you that there has never been a cock in the history of the world that was more ready, more hungry, to slam into pussy and ravage. I want you. It's hard to think about anything else. You can see my heartbeat in that little movement. When I take you you're going to know what it is to be desired. But something else has to happen first. Go to the bedroom or be dragged there by your collar."

She stared down at my cock again, lips quivering, hands making little sudden movements, and then she moaned and darted for the bedroom.

I went to the closet, and then the kitchen, and quickly gathered a few supplies. In the bedroom she was sitting, waiting, legs crossed and shifting restlessly.

"I have something I've wanted to try," I said. "Massage gel. It's very... well, you'll see."

"Drugs?" she said, warily.

"No. It's slippery, but nothing else."

I laid a shower curtain across the bed, and put a sheet on top of that. The gel made a mess, I'd been warned. "On your belly," I said, pointing to the bed. She laid down, curling, a little nervous.

I took everything off, and dimmed the lights.

I'd kept the jar near the apartment's pyro, and it was warm to the touch, not quite hot. I laid her out flat, and dribbled a little over her ass. She made a soft noise, and I stroked the gel into her skin, slowly.

"That's... very slippery," she said, in a little half giggle. "It's... wow."

I massaged it into her back, and then moved to the backs of her thighs. That got a moan, but I ignored her little hinting movements and did the backs of her pretty legs, and then her feet. Then I straddled her, nestled my cock in the valley of her ass, and worked her arms. As promised, it got everywhere and I didn't like the mess it made in her hair, but the rest of her glistened and gleamed like oiled brass. Brass would have held still better, though.

"Sir," she whispered. "Are you sure that's not drugged? Because I think I'm going to start crying. Or faint. Or cumming just from your hands on m-my shoulders. Or... sir, your cock. I need it. I want it so m-much..."

I slid off her, and rolled her over.

"This cock? This cock that wants to fill you over and over? Just look at it while I do your torso."

I started with her belly.

"Sometimes y-you tie m-me up and I feel- so helpless," she stammered. "And it's so hot. But this... now I want you to t-tie me up b-because I know you w-want me to hold still and w-wait, and sir I can't, my hands and legs are -- look at me. I'm falling apart. You're being so gentle, but I know you demand my... o-obedience. I f-feel -- sir, what are you doing t-to me? Just take me, I understand that, but t-this is something else-"

I did her breasts. I loved the hard, swollen nipples, and I bent over her and licked them, once, each, as I worked the gel under her arms. Watching her skin love the touch, the sensuality of it all; watching her body melt under my hands even as she twitched and stared and panted frantically was so beautiful.

I did her throat, around the collar, and that's when she began to whimper without stopping. Her eyes danced from my cock to my face and back. I oiled her lips next, and her eyes closed and she sucked my finger, almost like a baby nursing. My cock was starting to ache.

Her eyes were closed now, so one last surprise was in order. I bent over to kiss her, lightly and slowly... and pressed a small piece of chocolate into her mouth with my tongue.

"...oh...!"

He eyes opened slowly, almost sadly I thought for a moment, but then I understood better. She'd let go of everything, and was just feeling.

"I feel... safe," she whispered. "Like there's a camp of soldiers around me. But it's just you." Her hand moved, slippery with the gel, around my cock, and stroked it. "No more seduction," she whispered. "I'm all seduced now, I promise. And you didn't tie me up so now I get to do to you what you just did to me."

She shifted, and her mouth was on mine, and her hands stroked my chest and belly and cock, and then she rubbed her slippery, hot body against mine, with her legs opening wide. We both gave in at the same time and I was inside her, and her impossibly slick body moved urgently under me, and I gripped her hair and made sure she'd never slide away from me again. We sank into animal sexuality, thrusting and begging and grasping and I kissed her over and over, because I was going to come and I wanted her kissed when it happened so it wouldn't just be cum. Her toes suddenly played up the backs of my legs, and I wouldn't cum, I wouldn't, no more easy way, I wasn't done making her feel, but suddenly my choices were easy or impossible, and I arched and pounded and gushed into her. She sobbed and came, violently. I kissed her through her orgasm, tasting chocolate, and then salt, from what I realized were tears.

I licked the tears away, and slid off beside her, not because I wanted to but the gel was so slippery it just happened. She pressed herself against me, still shaking.

"The chocolate was a dirty trick," she whispered.

"You were in love before that."

"Don't say that. It's not true."

"Yes it is. I love you, Julianne. I don't think I could say it if I didn't know you loved me. Someday maybe I'll understand why you do, because I know I didn't earn it."

"I fought it for a long time. All that does was make it worse when you lose." She giggled, softly. "This gel... it makes my body one big pussy. Everything on me is a place to love your cock. Look."

She caught my cock between her arm and torso, then between her breasts, then between her thighs, and between her feet, and in her hands, and with her asscheeks. And then she kissed it. "I'm just a little shiny fuck toy, all over now."

"You were. You're more now."

"No, I'm pretending I'm still just the fuck toy. Don't you dare kiss me to prove me wrong."

I kissed her, gently.

"Then... don't lick my ear and tell me you love me, either."

I did exactly that. She shivered from head to toe.

"And absolutely don't give me any more chocolate."

"Nice try."

"Where did you get it?"

"Oh... I know a guy who knows a guy. I had to call in some favors, but..."

Actually I'd just asked Bill, and he'd sold me a little for half price and a promise I wouldn't actually eat much of it myself. But she'd never know that.

"Sir-"

"You could call me Scott at this point, you know."

"I like Sir. Anyway, as soon as you can I'd like it very much if you could fuck me again please. And then a few more times. I want to make sure I'm doing it right."

"You really didn't have any sex or masturbate when we were apart, did you."

"I didn't. And going to bed without your collar -- I didn't realize how that would affect me. I cried a couple of nights, touching my throat and wondering if my little revenge prank wasn't the stupidest thing I'd ever done with my sex life. Some nights I'd wake up from dreaming about the way you'd just take me, and I wanted to touch myself so much. And you didn't call at night. You made me wonder who you were sleeping with. That was cruel."

"Leaving was your idea. The dreams sound hot, though. I'll make you dream like that a lot."

"You can't anymore," she said. "People dream about what they don't have." She stroked my cock, slowly. "I'll never need to dream again."

Corny, I thought; but still kind of sweet.

She kissed me, continuing to stroke my cock with warm, still shaking, slippery hands. Very slowly, it turned into sex again. Neither of us came, but it didn't matter. Then I kissed her, and ran a finger down her belly, and slowly touched her until she whimpered softly, shivered tight against me, and came again. Her eyes stayed closed, and she smiled, just a little, and wrapped my hand around her hair. Slowly she fell asleep as I watched her, all pretty and slick and shiny and nestled against me.

I woke her up after a half hour. She had wanted to practice, after all.

+++

I don't like it when a phone rings at 2. Generally I've just really gotten to sleep, and with my girl asleep beside me, no one should need me then.

"What the fuck," I said into it, not even looking to see who it was.

"Not this time," said Eric's voice. "This time it's a beating."

"Wait... what?" I was awake now. Beside me, Julianne stirred, and her eyes opened slowly in the darkness, doing that lambent shimmering thing again.

"Cheryl. Starlight Dreams Bar. I don't think anything's broken but she's bruised up pretty bad. And she's still interplanetary. But she's refusing hospitals."

"How do you happen to be there?"

"A coworker saw her stumble in, and I live nearby, so he called me."

"How bad is she?"

"I'm not a doctor. It's not life threatening, but she pretty much can't walk straight. I've got her in my car for now. I don't think anyone called the Police. Nobody at that bar would."

"Eric, she's not sane right now. Overrule her on the hospital thing. She's clearly not competent to decide."

"Then the Company finds out. We've talked about this. Hospitalized for drug use gets her flagged and there's an investigation. That's all the HR trail they need to terminate her. Even she knows that."

"But the beating means the hospital notifies the Police, and maybe the assailant -- rapist, more likely -- can get found."

Julianne growled softly, and sat up. I put a hand on her shoulder.




Why I Love My Job Ch. 08



"No chance of a rape charge. She's still mumbling about wanting to be fucked. Listen, I thought you were opposed to a hospital stay. Something about the Company interfering and something bad happening to her there."

"Something bad has happened to her anyway. And she has to go somewhere."

"Bring her here," Julianne said. I waved at her to shush her, because Eric was talking.

"-drug sweep is going to find something illegal in her system. You know it will. It's an obvious play."

"They can't charge her on something they find in her blood. There's no proof it was self-administered, she was just abused by someone and they could have injected it. Fuck it, doesn't she have family?"

"In Chindissia. Do you know the culture? They don't want to see her like this."

"Her own family?"

"Bring her here!" Julianne snapped.

"Eric, hold." I stared at Julianne. "How does that help."

"I'll stay with her. You'll cover for me at work. I'll keep her away from guys and drugs until the bruises fade and she can go back to work. You can bring in a services guy to... meet her needs. If she even has any - without the drugs she might not."

"No. We don't know what the withdrawal looks like. She could get violent."

"Same services guy. You hire a body guard who doesn't mind being sexually kind to a pretty girl if it comes up. That can't be hard. She takes vacation for the days she needs -- at her level she has to get some. The beating might even get her sick leave."

Eric's voice cut in. "It's a workable plan."

"Then it could work at your place, too," I snapped.

"No. I don't have a bedwarmer -- um, sorry, Julianne -- to take care of her and keep an eye on the bodyguard. And I do have some girls who visit who wouldn't be as understanding as Julianne."

"Understanding?" Julianne asked, archly.

"Um, she doesn't really get it, does she," Eric said.

"Get it? Get what?" Julianne said, even more archly.

"Men. Self-control is a fiction when it comes to freely available sex. If someone like Cheryl wants it from a guy, she'll get it. Cheryl was willing to do Scott even before she was drugged and messed with. You're pretty much volunteering Scott's cock to Cheryl's use."

"That's not true. Scott said he didn't do Cheryl when he got a sample from her."

Here it comes, I thought.

"Um, true, he didn't. He let me have all of her. But one brief little visit doesn't prove much. Cheryl would be all over him every night."

Owe you, buddy, I thought.

"I'll make very sure his cock stays satisfied."

"It doesn't work that way. Guys are wired to want it from as many girls as possible. When you see a guy being loyal to a girl, it's because the guy doesn't have easy access to other girls. It may suck to hear this, but I've been known to fuck one girl all night and be completely unable to get it up by morning -- until another girl walked into the room. We're not girls, Miss. We fuck when and where we can, simply for the thrill of it. Loyalty is something women invented."

"It's not as bad as all that," I said. "But I agree she can't come here. Julianne and I are just getting things figured out and I don't want the temptation. Eric, you have to take her."

"No."

The light dawned. "Shit! How much do you want, Eric."

"Smart fellow. You'll pay for her babysitter, her upkeep, you'll bribe her boss to fudge the attendance data, and you'll pay for any in-house medical I have to bring in. That won't be cheap. You'll pay to have the drugs and other packages dropped off at her apartment moved, so no one suspects. And I get one hundred credits a day for the bother and risk."

"I'm paying you to fuck her?"

"Your newfound ethics are expensive, aren't they, Scott. Life is cheaper without them."

"In more ways than one. You're being pretty ruthless."

"I'm not stupid. But I'll promise this -- I'll treat her decently, I won't fuck her when she's bruised like this, and I really will make sure she's healed up before I kick her out. Maybe you'll get lucky and that will be long enough to break the addiction. The bruises could be a couple weeks."

I looked at Julianne. She was glowering in fury. But in Eric's place I might have done the same, at least pre-Julianne. He was taking on risk and didn't know how much. Reward had to be part of the equation.

"Possible deal, but hold on, there's something I want to check."

I tapped the phone. "Call Karin."

A long pause, and then a sleepy but somewhat seductive voice whispered "Well... hello, Mister Gladgrind. You do know it's two and thirty, right?"

"Sorry, Miss, but this is about Cheryl and it's important. By the way, you're on with Eric and Julianne. My question is: how long is it likely to take to break an addiction to whatever drugs she's on."

Her voice got more awake, and to her credit, less seductive. "There's no way to tell, Sir. It's generally said that once an addict, always an addict. But if someone wants to get clean, they can. How long before the physical cravings stop depends on the drug and the individual. Weeks, probably. I put together a package of drugs that might help with it -- antibiotics, and a taper for her cravings. But it's pointless. As soon as she hits another supply of the drug, it's simply a matter of how long before temptation wins. It's like having your clit rubbed: it doesn't matter what you think about it, sooner or later you succumb to the orgasm."

I ignored the mental image I got of Karin at that point. "Did you work out what drugs she's on?"

"I couldn't get that from a saliva test. I can tell you she produces Hard Night and a couple of other things that didn't identify on the drug charts. But what she's taking, no. I'm sorry, sir. If the rumors are true I wouldn't be able to figure it out anyway. She's on experimental stuff and there's probably obscurants involved to make sure no one reverse engineers anything from her blood."

"Thanks, Karin. Sorry about the sleep."

"I'm not as angry as I should be, Sir. You going all White Knight to the Rescue is fascinating. I want to see how it turns out for you. That Miss Julianne is a lucky girl."

"Yes, I am," Julianne said, reaching new levels of archness. She clearly hadn't liked Karin's seductive tone.

"Sleep well." I dropped Karin from the call before the two of them started a conversation I didn't need right now. "I think we have a deal, Eric. And I will do my best to take this out of your hide next poker night."

"You can't. Bring Julianne, though, I think she's a match for me," he paused. "You know this conspiracy you're building is getting a little large. You, Karin, me, Julianne, and isn't your historian friend in on it? And how the hell I'm going to convince Miss Suzie to keep her mouth shut... you better hope the Company had no real interest in Cheryl anymore because if they do you are in trouble. Because if I get asked, I will not cover for you. That has to be clear. You let me borrow a hot girl in rough shape but I had no fucking idea the Company had any interest."

"Wait," Julianne said. "Suzie? Her? She'll talk. She'll absolutely talk."

"It's a real concern," Eric said. "Her mouth is good for two things, and only one of them is useful."

I sighed. "And you aren't willing to visit her at her place for two weeks?"

"She'll be beyond suspicious."

"She'll pry," Julianne said. "I've met her and she's... no. Bring Cheryl here."

I stared at Julianne.

"I know," she said. "Look, I get it, ok? She's going to want you. She's totally gorgeous, I get it. But maybe I can handle it if I'm with you if it happens. You just can't... can't... be with her alone, ok? Promise me that."

"Wait," Eric said. "Did your girl just volunteer for threesomes for the Greater Good? Where did you find her, and sweetheart, do you have a sister?"

"Fuck you," she hissed at Eric. "Fuck you for being such a selfish jerk, and having so little fucking compassion that I have to play nursemaid to some poor messed up slut of a girl and then worry about a guy I care about fucking her. All because you don't want to upset a slut like Suzie. You're a coward and a pussy and not even worth the tip of Scott's little finger. I hope you choke on a-"

I wrapped my hand over Julianne's mouth, firmly. "Bring her here, Eric. See you in a bit." I clicked out, and looked at her. Shaking with fury, she rolled over and exposed her ass at me for her spanking.

I gave her a single slap, and then sighed.

"Eh. Someone should have told him that a long time ago. And me, too. Besides, you have other work to do." I grabbed her by the collar and brought her mouth to my cock. "You're going to use your hands, mouth, and pussy to get me off and keep me sated, three times a day because I'll be coming home for lunch. You exceeded your authority in bringing her here, so as much as I love you, you're my fucktoy, on demand and no complaints. If anyone's going to be choking on cock, it's you. Suck it."

+++

Julianne still had a gooey pearl necklace on her breasts when Eric and Cheryl came in. I told her she wouldn't be cleaning up or dressing to meet our guests, because I was a little annoyed at the risk I was taking on. I knew what Eric didn't -- that the Company still wanted Cheryl, and if they decided they wanted her in the next few days I had no idea how it would go down, but it would be very, very bad.

Eric eyed Julianne, slowly, and smiled sardonically. The look he got back was pure hate, but it was Eric and he only found that amusing.

Cheryl was a mess. There were bruises on her arms and legs, around her throat and on both cheeks. They'd be worse tomorrow, I guessed. She was in the same tube dress I'd seen her in at the hotel, but the zipper was broken and jammed, and there was obviously nothing else underneath. Her shoes were missing. She was shaking, but I didn't see any blood. That was bad, in a way. She hadn't even tried to scratch up her assailant. Her eyes were mostly closed and she wasn't talking.

For what it's worth I have never seen a pretty girl be less erotic. Bruises don't do it for me; all I felt was anger, vast and beginning to boil.

I got a knife and cut the dress off her; Julianne brought out pajamas, and looked her over. Her breasts and hips were a little bruised as well, but that seemed to be the extent of it. She'd had sex. Julianne just got angrier, and supported her towards the showers.

Eric looked at me. "Your girl is hot, but I don't know if she's worth it. She's dangerous. She thinks the world's problems are her business. That's no way to survive. I'm only saying it because I think the sex is a little too good and it cut off the blood to your brain."

"Be a fucking human being, Eric. You just saw the aftermath of a beating and rape."

"I wasn't the one beaten and raped, but that could change if this gets out. By the way, I was nice and didn't say anything about you and Karin, but Cheryl might have been aware enough to hear Karin coming and she could let something slip. Especially if she thinks that will drive Julianne off and so she can keep you for herself."

"I'd rather it didn't come out, but if it does, Julianne and I will get through that. She'd left me, she knew something might happen, and she'll forgive me once. Any woman will forgive... once. And I'll make it clear to Cheryl that she's here because I'm being nice, not because I want her. Did she say anything to you about what happened?"

"She's said a total of two words to me this evening: Thank and You, when I told her where I was taking her."

"And you're not angry at all this. Really?"

"No. Scared. Cheryl is the x in an indeterminate equation. Don't you see the symbols? The cross in her apartment, the drugs she's on. X is everywhere around her. She's going to be an ex herself in the end, and she might take people with her when she goes."

"Was that another literary allusion?"

"You really should visit my library. It's got books in it -- real, paper books from an era you can't imagine. Forbidden shit, fnords everywhere. You'd learn a lot -- including what happens to dramatic heroes like you."

"Caring about another human being doesn't make me a hero."

"Of course it does. That's how all the heroes get started. And that's why it's better not to care. Heroes get crucified."



Why I Love My Job Ch. 09



Once Cheryl was in the shower, I checked her phone. It had been shut down, and the battery had been disconnected and wrapped in a small piece of shredded cloth. Eric had been being careful, and I appreciated it. Knowing how things might go in the future, I got a bottle of rubbing alcohol open and washed down the phone and battery. I stored the phone and battery separately, so Cheryl wouldn't be able to instantly use the phone even if she found it, which she wasn't going to.

Julianne got Cheryl cleaned up, wrapped in my robe, and into the bedroom. I sat on the bed near Cheryl, but not too near, and gently squeezed her hand.

"You're staying here until the bruises fade. You can't contact anyone. You cannot and must not leave this apartment until I say you can. If you have problems obeying that we'll tie you to the bed. I'll take care of the work absence. Now listen to this part carefully -- you're not here for sex and you won't be getting your drugs. I'm going to try to break your addiction. I'll get some other drugs here that might help you get through it. You'll take them without a fuss. I'm making these decisions for you right now because you're not making good ones on your own. Is that all clear?"

She didn't answer.

"Nod if you understand me."

She nodded.

"Get some sleep," I told her. She lay down on the bed, curled in the robe, and her eyes closed. Julianne and I exited and closed the door behind us.

"Her addiction..." Julianne said.

"I don't know if we can help. I don't know anything about addictions like this, but I'll talk to my contact in med sciences again and try to figure out what she needs. And I'll find a babysitter, but it can't be anyone from the Company."

"At least she won't go cruising for trouble anymore. I don't think she'll ever want sex again."

"Unfortunately for all of us I think you're wrong. People get addicted to strange things, and abusive sex can be one of them. She was tortured and conditioned and drugged for a week, Julianne. And then left to rot with Black X on demand -- which made her darkest fears deeply erotic, over and over. The only people who have any idea what all that does to her are the ones supplying her with more. My guess is she's going to try to escape and get herself raped again, even without the drug." I slid an arm around her waist, and sighed. "I gave you a lot of credit for wanting to help so badly, but I don't think you realize just what a mess she is or how hard this might be."

I looked down over Julianne, slowly. Cheryl, I remembered, had been messed with to give off a perfume that aroused men. The smell of it was in this room, faint and sweet. It wasn't a fraction as potent as her kiss, but even though Julianne had sucked me off just an hour ago, her body became a mass of sweet, hot curves and places to grip. I told myself that after what Julianne had just seen, she wouldn't be in the mood, but fuck...

I got myself under control, and got Julianne and I as comfortable as possible on the chair and sofa. We slept, fitfully.

+++

The next day I contacted Karin to arrange for the drugs. I'd expected her to courier them over, but she refused to involve anyone else in the deal. She told me to meet her for lunch at her apartment, with my phone off. When I arrived, I had to ring to get in, like a services worker.

She was dressed for work -- short black skirt, tight red top, the sort of outfit the girls wore when they were trying to attract male attention. She had a boyfriend and so her outfit was a surprise, not that I minded the view.

"Come in and sit down," she said. "And I hoped you remembered to keep your phone off."

"I did. You're worried."

"Very. I've done a lot of poking around where I shouldn't have, in a lab I shouldn't have been in. I learned a few things about Cheryl's condition, and the drugs and active biotics they used. I don't think I was caught, but it's a lot of risk. I can reproduce some of what they did to her but I still don't have any kind of cure. Let me get you the stuff that I think might help."

I settled on the couch. I watched her walk away; she had a very nice ass and that long, lean figure that caught my attention without begging for it. I liked Julianne's fuller breasts and curvier legs better, but Karin had no problem turning heads when she walked. Part of it was how she walked, with that little swaying of the hips and flexing of the ass that says Yes I Might to the male mind.

She came back in, and sat next to me. I was aware of her legs, long and smooth, spilling from under the short skirt. She was barefoot. I remembered her foot massage on my cock, and the way her legs had slid over me when she wanted me to come.

"This is the antibiotic. I'd give it to her for a week at least, if you can. It's probably not the ideal choice, but I don't know what the idea choice is, and this is low in side effects and can be sprinkled into food if she's not... compliant. Is she being compliant?"

"She's not talking, and she's sleeping a lot. But she's not much trouble yet, though she did try to leave this morning."

Karin quirked a smile. "So you had to tie her to the bed?"

"Julianne did. I'm trying to avoid being around her."

"Again, so noble. Some guys would just party, with two hot girls in the apartment. So this... this is the taper drug, and the doses are labelled. It's going to fuck with her head, but not, I hope in any sexual way. For the first few days she'll be, um... kind of out there, but as the dose tapers off she'll get more normal. This is a three week course. I don't know if you can hold her that long, but it's ok if she stops taking it. There's a sedative in there, too, for the first day, and some stuff to relieve anxiety. I'm not a doctor and the best I could do is look up drug interactions, and I think this mix is ok, but I have no idea what's already in her system. Julianne's going to have to watch her closely for the next few days. If anything gets weird, she has to go to the hospital. If that happens, this piece of paper explains what all you've been giving her. That's not good for me, because they'll investigate where you got all this. And sir... please. Please promise me you haven't set me up for blackmail. I feel like you've... already got a significant hold over me."

She fell silent, and as I looked over her, her skin a little flushed. Her eyes were cast down, and she was biting her lip, very lightly. I suddenly realized she was wearing perfume, something faint and sweet.

"Is trusting me so hard?" I smiled.

"You're... very much in a position of power, sir," she said. "Cheryl's fate, my reputation, Julianne's enslavement. People talk about your ability to... compel females. You showed me a little of that side of you the last time we were... together... you can be... ruthless, when you want something."

I could feel myself hardening. Looking down as she was, I had no doubt she noticed. She shifted, and her eyes came back up, and met mine, as she slowly bit her lip. Her blush deepened... she looked back down, at my cock. I shifted my hips, making it more prominent.

...and then her hand was over it and her mouth was on mine. It was a soft, wet, clinging fuck-me kiss, and I burned instantly.

Much more slowly than I should have, I broke the kiss.

"Not a good idea. You're gorgeous and all, but I have a girl now, and..."

Her eyes sparkled. She was smiling, and as I watched she slid her hand over her torso, and began to open her blouse.

"...and you just gave me the same sort of kiss Cheryl does, didn't you. I have to leave."

"Too late," she said, licking her lips and sliding the blouse down her arms. She was naked underneath. "By the time you get halfway home you'll be jerking off. This isn't the same as Cheryl's, I just painted my lips with Ramcock. And I took Madrigal just before I opened the door. You see... I know you're all noble about Cheryl and trying not to... take advantage of her. I also know she's still generating that perfume and you're living with that low level of arousal all the time. I'm sure Julianne's doing all she can to keep you happy, but I want to... help." She pet her breasts, seductively, and her nipples hardened. "Deep down I know if I'm nice enough to you... you won't blackmail me. So I'll be... generous with myself. But mostly..."

She slid her hand back over my cock, though the suit pants, and squeezed it, slowly.

"...I know what's in here. You made me suck it, sir... and you know very well there's no girl who ever sucked a big cock and didn't want it somewhere else after that..."

Her hand pressed along my length, and moved quickly and firmly. She kissed me again, sluttily and hotly, and this time, I kissed back. My cock was already stone hard, and her caresses were summoning a desire I'd never known before. Take her, my instincts whispered. Take her hard, like an animal takes. Pin her down and fuck her and feel the way your cock pierces and pounds and ravishes her helpless prey body. Rape her, over and over, feeling her pussy work you against her will. Conquest. Fuck her until she cries, then slap her and then fuck her more...

She moaned against my lips, opening my pants with impatient hands. "Cock," she whispered, looking down as she pulled it free. "Fuck, look at it, no wonder girls whisper about you. You're a machine designed to open pussy." She yanked down her skirt, and there was nothing underneath but smooth, taut skin. I snarled, trying to fight the drug, but now she had her hand wrapped around my cock, gripping and pumping, then stopping, then pumping again faster. "I read about what Ramcock does. Feel the animal in you rising... see the way my body responds to you? Fuck, I was burning for you even before I took the Mad. You must know I have rape fantasies. So I'm going to tease you and then say no. And then... fuck you're so huge-"

My hands went to her breasts, and I squeezed them hard, pinching her nipples cruelly. She gasped, and then whimpered, her hand moving faster, sliding in my precum. "Look at my pretty, pretty body. You want to slam it to the floor and force my legs apart." She shifted in my lap, rubbing her pussy against my cock; and with her eyes staring wantonly into mine, she smiled mockingly. "But you can't. I won't let you. You can't have me, no matter how much you burn to fuck my hungry, slutty body."

Conquest, screamed my instinct. Take her down and show her what male strength is for. Use her body over and over, watch how she begs and writhes, feel how she's beaten into helplessness by your strength and then has to serve you, has to please you, rape her into submission and she'll never fight you after that, she'll be yours to use over and over, make her pussy crave what you alone can make it feel...

"No," she whispered, her hand gripping the head of my cock and giving it a fast, rough, slippery massage. "Bad cock. It can't have me." And suddenly she knocked my hands aside, leapt up and darted over the coffee table, turning to face me, and masturbating-

Prey! My instinct screamed. Hunt!

I leapt over the table, but she was fast, and darted again, behind a chair. I stalked her, arms apart, hands ready to grip. She stroked her breasts, staring into my eyes and licking her lips, but then darted again, bounding over another chair. She settled against it, and started fingering herself, moaning-

I dove for her, my hand missing her wrist by a fraction of a centimeter. She yelped and headed for the bedroom, but I leapt again and my hand wrapped in her hair. I dragged her to her knees, facing away from me. She gasped, and then moaned.

I forced her over and took her from behind. She shrieked from the violation, but my hands settled on her hips and I pounded her, and she spasmed under me, grinding helplessly against me. "No -- please -- I'll be good -- I'll be a good girl, stop, it hurts, oh fuck I can't think, it hurts just right-"

Too many words. This wasn't a time for words. I forced her onto her back, and she tried to close her legs but I brutally forced them wide apart, and then I speared her, bent over her and put a hand over her throat, cutting off her words and pinning her to the floor. Thrusting was the best and only thing in the world, and her body contorted and writhed in both pleasure and fear. Conquered prey, captured and used!

She made a strangled noise, and my hands shifted to her breasts, small and delicate and vulnerable and sensitive, she'd give no trouble with her nipples trapped between my fingers. I fucked her faster, pulling up on her breasts to arch her into a better fuck position, and glorying in her slippery wetness. I sank my spear into her again and again and her pussy bled the milk of arousal, the sweet, slippery juice that said you win, you conquered me, now you can fuck me all you want. But that wasn't enough. She had to come as well, I had to feel the spasms in her belly drawing my cum up deep inside her, she had to lose herself in my conquest and be overwhelmed by it, she had to relinquish all control and know who the master of her body was-

"Fuck no," she whispered. "So big, so brutal - Fuck yes, you're making me -- fuck! Oh fuck YES wet and helpless and you're so hard and demanding and I can't help it and FUCK! FUCK SIR! YES YES YES YES OH FUCK YES-!"

She spasmed over and over, and I slammed her flat each time, watching her drown in willing obedience from the violence of her orgasm, feeling her stroke me with her legs and arms to placate the fury in me. I came in her, liquid lightning pouring out of me, and she felt it flood inside her, and came harder-

I pulled out, dragged her against me and fingered her, biting her lips as she whimpered. She was overloaded and dazed and unable to stop her body from responding. All of her was mine now, and I sucked her nipples and fingered her ass and pussy, and snarled at her to rub her clit. She obeyed me, looking at me with lost, wild eyes, and then she arched and came again, feet drumming helplessly on the floor.

Just as she peaked I forced my cock back inside her, loving how it filled and stretched her. Tears leaked from her eyes, and she wrapped her legs around me and rocked, panting frantically and begging for more come. Slowly, but then violently and suddenly, the need in me built up again, and I pinned her wrists to the floor just above her head and pounded her, getting off on her whimpers and whispers and half-spoken pleas for gentleness. When I came again, I crumpled, and forced her to lick me clean.

"Un-fucking-believable, how good that was," she whispered brokenly.

"I can't believe you did that." The drug's hold receded quickly, I realized.

"You've drugged girls before and I can't believe you mind very much having the favor returned. Fuck, Mad is a wicked, wicked drug. I still need more of you, even after that... Please, Sir. Touching myself is not going to be enough, not this time. It has to be you." She slithered into my lap.

I smiled, slowly. I slid my hand over her belly, and then lower. "Right into my hands. Do you like begging, Karin?"

I toyed with her, the way she'd toyed with me, but I was ruthless. I pinned her to me and fingered her, stopping just as her eyes fluttered closed, over and over. In ten minutes she was screaming for mercy, but I just spanked her cute round ass, made her lick my cock some more, and then edged her again. Then I filled her with my cock and made her masturbate as I toyed with her nipples. I told her she was cock loving trash and forced her to kiss my mouth. She came quickly and repeatedly, kissing and sobbing, and then she sagged to the floor.

I pushed her away, and made her lick my feet, just for the amusement value. This was, I knew, nothing I'd ever tell Julianne about; the Man Rules clearly state that what's given for free doesn't count. Then I washed my cock, pulled clothing on and gathered up the drugs. She was still whimpering and shivering on the floor when I left.

+++

Home wasn't quite as much fun.

"Please."

I sighed. Cheryl was tied to the bed, gagged -- but apparently she'd chewed through the gag -- and was begging again. Julianne got up to check on her.

"Please. Cock, please!"

It was day three of her stay. Her bruises were finally starting to fade a little, and Karin's antibiotic had finally taken care of the "arousal perfume" she'd been giving off since she got here. I didn't know if her kiss was still dangerous and I wasn't going to find out.

As far as I could tell, the drug that was meant to taper off her cravings wasn't effective. Or maybe she'd have been a thousand times worse without it. I didn't know.

Julianne and I had been fucking for two days straight. In part because Cheryl's arousal perfume had been working, in part because Julianne did not want me near Cheryl.

I was tired of sleeping on the sofa.

Julianne came back out. "She's coherent."

"You and your big words. She can speak?"

"Yeah."

Cheryl had been almost wordless for two days; the taper drug had some nasty side effects when it came to rational thought.

We went into the bedroom. Cheryl looked at me.

"Please don't do this," she said. "Please. This is bondage. It's my hottest turn-on. Please you don't know what this is like... I want your cock, it's all I can think about. I need it. Please Sir, fuck me like a slut gets fucked!"

"We're trying to break your addiction. You know that."

'Don't. Cock after cock after cock, it's wonderful. You don't understand! I had eight, ten orgasms a night. Some at work when some of the guys can spare few minutes. I masturbate every morning. There's no off switch anymore and it's so fucking hot. Please, lying in your bed I can smell you all the time, I've soaked your sheets. Julianne, please, don't you understand? I don't care about him that way. I just want to get off, over and over and over. It's just fucking!"

"Apparently the drug turns her into a man," Julianne said, sourly. "Why can't you find someone to come here and do her?"

"It turns out it falls under prostitution, and there are surprisingly few male prostitutes in the city. I talked to a couple and they won't touch this. I found a security guard who sounded willing and discreet, but I did some digging and he'd abused a girl once. I have to be ok with anyone who comes into the apartment and I have to be certain they won't talk afterwards. I never figured it would be this hard to find a bunch of decent guys to bang a pretty girl."

"Fuck yes, please," Cheryl moaned. "Guy after guy. And you and Julianne can watch, I promise you'll like it..."

I sighed. "This isn't a whore house. Or a zoo. You're not here to put on shows."

"Just a finger," Cheryl whispered. "You can fingerfuck me, that's not cheating..."

"It really does make her a guy," Julianne said, rolling her eyes.

"I've known girls to be surprisingly fluid about those definitions, actually. It turns out that 'having sex' varies from caressing a nipple to full on banging -- depending on whether your boyfriend is doing it to you, or someone else."

"Funny, sir."

"Cheryl, tell me who beat you."

"I don't know his name. I met him in the Starlight. Hot, arrogant, well dressed... I got him to agree to lick my mouth, that's all it takes. He took me to an alley and pinned me down in his car and... fuck, it's sick, he didn't use my drug on me, he just.... And I still came over and over. And when I couldn't come more he beat me more and then he fucked me and dumped me back. Please sir. I have to come now. Imagine someone massaged your cock for an hour straight and then didn't let you come. Then imagine it over and over. I just need to come, please!"

"Oh screw this," Julianne said. She fished a vibrator out of my bedstand. "I feel dirty already."

"Rape me with it," Cheryl whispered. Julianne froze, and dropped the vibrator in disgust.




Why I Love My Job Ch. 09



"PLEASE SIR, MAKE HER!"

"Julianne..." I said.

"Ugh. And with you watching?"

"We've done worse with her before, and even if I'm not in here I'll hear it. Anyway, I can truly say that I fought this whole idea. You can't blame me if I find this hot."

Julianne picked up the vibrator and set it to high, and smiled bitterly, then sardonically. "Baby going to get off nice and hard for her mistress?"

Cheryl nodded frantically. Julianne just rolled her eyes again and slid the vibrator down her belly, over her clit, and then, repeatedly, up inside her. It didn't even take a minute, and Cheryl came four times in the next two minutes. The fact that Julianne was clinical about it didn't make it less sexy.

When Julianne was done with her, Cheryl sagged against the sheets, sobbing softly. "I'm a slut for girls now too," she whimpered.

Julianne looked at the tent pole in my shorts, leaned over and kissed Cheryl full on the mouth, walked over and kissed my mouth, then grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me out of the room.

It didn't take long to figure out that some of Cheryl's kiss still worked, and I took Julianne on the floor, her wrists pinned to the floor at her shoulders. I came as quickly as I could. The indirect kiss didn't have enough impact to keep me going, which was just as well.

I curled her against me, panting, but she didn't seem especially affectionate for once.

"Somehow," Julianne said. "If I get her off, and then I get you off, then somehow it's like you're fucking her."

"Huh? Sex is commutative, not transitive."

"Hey, you know big words too."

"Stop it." I said sharply.

"I'm sorry," she said, with all the petulance her eighteen years had taught her. "It's bad enough when a boyfriend watches porn and then bangs his girl. It turns out it's worse when I have to help arrange the porn, too."

"Um... tough, but fair."

"Kissing you with her mouth didn't make it any nicer."

"I think we're discovering that it's one thing to want to help people, and another thing to actually implement."

"I'm finding that, yeah," she said. "So far for you it's just extra orgasms."

"I'm not actually enjoying seeing you unhappy."

She paused. "Alright, I really am sorry. It was my idea but it's just not turning out the way I pictured it. I assumed she'd have a babysitter and we wouldn't have to deal with her much. And jealousy sucks."

"I didn't like it when you were off with Bill, either. But let me check a couple more service organizations. We can't do this, it's just too messed up."

"Guys?" Cheryl called.

"Aw fu- um, for, um, pity's sake," Julianne whined. "Is this what having a baby is like? No wonder it's going out of style."

We went in.

"I think you can untie me now. I'm sane. Um, but it would help if Sir put on some pants."

"Huh, yeah." I dragged on some sweats. "Cheryl, you need to press charges for your beating. And you need to be clear on this -- you need to stay off the drug when you leave. Forever. We think we can cure the other side effects but that one has to be on you."

"Sir... you care and that's wonderful. But... let me go. I'll get a pleasuring license, and leave the Company-"

"And end up like this again," Julianne said. "You can't possibly want this!"

"Julianne... for a straight week they did things to me, over and over. Drugs, forced orgasms, multiple men on other drugs, hypnotism... I know I'm broken. But I don't care. I don't want to press charges. I'll find some nicer... clients. They'll pay extra for a drugged girl. That's something most service girls can't offer. I'll be ok. You're one of the lucky ones, don't you see? You have a guy who cares about you. A lot of girls don't. I never have. It's always been just sex, so... if that's fate, that's fate."

Julianne looked at me. "Has the world always been this way? Really? Because if it was always this way I wouldn't feel this kind of horror, would I? I'd be used to it, we all would. It would feel normal. But it doesn't feel normal. Something is very, very wrong with the world, and something in me knows it. Are the only choices really slaving for low pay, every day, your whole life... or work for the least ethical men in the world who can do this to you" -- she gestured at Cheryl -- "whenever they want? How can that be the only two choices? Why do we have a word for mercy if there's no such thing?"

It was a question that maybe only a poet could ask. I only knew a little history, from what they taught in school. It didn't all make sense to me, but I'd been taught that that was expected because, after all, no one really knew what happened long ago. But as far as I knew, there had always been the Company, and it made everything, invented Madrigal, and offered all the best jobs. And there were Governments to keep peace and everything else was just... work.

And I thought to myself... Really? I believe that?

"Julianne, you're a little more... sensitive to wrong than most. I don't know anything about the past. Most people think everything's fine. People in the Company anyway, I guess service people all think it kind of blows. But everyone's hoping for a better life. That's what Governments do, try to make life better."

"Then they suck at it."

"Yeah. Eric keeps mentioning he has books from a different... time, almost a different world. Maybe I'll read them and then I can answer your question. But for now, Cheryl-"

Cheryl shook her head. "No. I know what you'll say. But in the end I have to leave the Company. Sooner or later it happens. We'll just... let it happen. It's ok. Not everyone gets to be Julianne."

Julianne left the room, quietly. I looked at Cheryl, and frowned. "I'm going to unlock you. Lock yourself back up when you start to feel crazy again. Don't pounce on me, I don't want to fuck you. I'll do everything I can to get you safe, but in the end all the decisions are going to be yours."

I undid the locks, and went out to find Julianne, as Cheryl limped towards a bathroom.

Julianne was crying, and when I settled next to her she put her arms around me and just sobbed silently into my chest. I pet her hair until she could find words again.

"We live in such a horrible world," she whispered. "I thought war was the worst. But in war there are heroes. Here not even being a hero does any good."

I stroked her back, and thought...

+++

The next day I was able to find a group of people who did what you'd loosely call social services, except not Government affiliated or Company funded. It turned out they were an animal rights group, but they did humans on the side when people couldn't use hospitals. For a fee they'd watch Cheryl. I didn't see any other move, so I agreed, and they took her off my hands. At least she'd be harder to find if the Company came looking.

I cuddled a very relieved Julianne against me... and did some more thinking.

+++

"Call Eric."

"Yeah Scott. Julianne around to call me names again?"

"You're funny. Your collection of books..."

"Yeah?"

"I want access."

+++

The reading was fascinating, if mind bending. We spent a few solid weeks on it. During that time the Company figured out that Cheryl was missing, but by then Bill and I had found another placement for her, far out of town. I didn't visit.

Bill spent a lot of time at my apartment, as we went over material from Eric's collection. Julianne showed a genius for correlating sources and tying things in the books together. Bit by bit, we started to piece together a history that none of us had learned in school. Some of the philosophical and political terms were utterly unfamiliar, but there was a dictionary to help. Bill fell in love with the dictionary; he finally knew what a torx screw was.

The history we discovered was as disturbing as anything I'd ever imagined. But it was the fiction that consumed Julianne. One night she got into the copy of Narnia, and we lost her for two straight days. When she came out of the bedroom, there were tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Good and evil," she said, simply. "They used to believe in them as actual things. They used to teach them to children. I took Applied Ethics in school three years ago. We learned how to calculate everything, every decision, in terms of profit and loss, social stability, and societal benefit. I thought the only philosophers that ever mattered were Ayn Rand and John Mill. No one mentioned any other way to think. Give me that copy of Lord of the Rings next."

"Haven't you already cried enough?"

"The more I understand the more I'll cry. Don't even think of trying to stop me."

When we were done -- when we'd finally pieced together a basic understand of the events, and were as shocked and horrified at the Company and Governments as we thought it was possible to be - Bill gave us one additional gift of information. He told us what the Company was really after.

Julianne went mute with horror. I just cursed, softly, vehemently and continuously.

+++

A few nights later, Bill came in and opened with "They're coming for you. They've worked out that you had to be involved in Cheryl's disappearance. They'll put together an HR trail, fire you, question you, and soon after you'll vanish. If you're ever going to act, it has to be now."

"Then we do it. Tomorrow. Are you sure you can arrange an ethics hearing?"

"It will be unusual coming from a historian, but I have the right to call one. They know you and I talk and they'll assume I'm just turning you in for a pay increase."

"And you're certain our nameless CEO will call in."

"My accusation will be that you kidnapped and coerced information out of Cheryl, and boasted about it to me. Something about project Fountain, I'll say. He'll be there and he'll run the show. He goes by Mister Dark to his direct underlings, by the way. You wouldn't know that -- I shouldn't either -- so when you address him that way you'll rattle his cage even more."

+++

Four guards escorted me to a conference room in the basement. The proceeding was very much like a jury, but run by the Company's Ethical Assessment Council, with charges read aloud. Since the charges included an accusation of murder and the clear threat of a Police report, this was obviously nothing more or less than a tactic to get me to reveal Cheryl. But I said nothing.

"Mister Gladgrind, do you wish to address the council?" prompted a slightly synthetic voice from a completely black screen. The voice of the CEO, the world's most anonymous man.

I stood up, and out of the corner of my eye, I was able to see the prearranged signal. Bill's little 20th century tech trick had worked, and it was game on.

"I do. I'll ask the council's indulgence while I present what amounts to a history lesson. It's relevant -- and it's not the history you know, perhaps not even you, Mister Dark. The history I'm going to present was covered over and replaced with a Company approved version, quite a long time ago. But in those days some people still recorded things in non-electronic media, records that can't be erased with the swipe of a hand. Dig hard enough, look in enough dark corners, and it's still possible to find diaries, letters, the handwritten memoirs. Eyewitness accounts."

"I see no relevance to the matter at hand," Mister Dark's voice replied.

"There is some, but it will take a little time to get there."

"Those records would be unreliable in any case," Mister Dark said. "Individuals are subject to bias and faulty memories. That's why there are collective bodies that exist to ascertain and present truth."

"The Company has been using that to justify the slow rewriting of history for decades, Sir. And not just history. I found the original versions of some fictional literature from 1911, 1950... I compared them to authorized versions available today. Except for some character names, there's nothing in common. Not plot, not dialogue, not style, not meaning. They are new books with old titles, but they are presented as 'historically faithful'. The same body that did that work, tackled history itself. With the same amount of accuracy: the accounts I found show a lot of similarity to each other, and almost none to officially taught history."

"You can't claim to understand the ramblings of uneducated people writing things on their own and without peer review. The world was different then, and would be incomprehensible to you."

"I didn't find it so hard to understand. No one would. They were people who wrote plainly and honestly because they were desperately worried about the direction society was taking. They wanted to leave a record of decisions made, institutions fallen, people silenced, governments coerced, morality collapsing, economies shredding. They thought they were seeing the end of the world. The curious thing is, they were right. A few thousand years of political and social evolution got swept away and replaced. In what turned out to be just a few decades. The world they watched fall apart was very different. Many small governments, some ruling only tens of millions of people, sometimes even less. Different languages. Different cultures. Individuals had the right to make, sell and even self-publish in much of the world. There was a time before the Company, ladies and gentleman and it was almost impossibly different, but not incomprehensibly different."

"Why do you think books were burned, Mister Gladgrind. Project Four Fifty One, I'm sure you read about it. They were all fiction. They didn't agree on anything."

"That's why I believe them. They were written by different people at different times, people who believed different things, but shared substantially the same reality. The accounts agree in large general terms, differ in small details. Exactly what you'd expect from eyewitness accounts that people tried to record as faithfully as they could. When you see a series of accounts that agree as well as our modern histories do, you know one thing -- they were all written by one committee, with one common agenda and one agreed-upon viewpoint. It's consistent alright -- but it's easy to make fiction consistent.

"Anyway, the point is this. Once upon a time, in the real world, wealth got concentrated in the hands of a small number of people. At one point, 25% of the world's measurable wealth was in the hands of 1% of the population. Not long after, it was 50%. Then, even faster, 75%. The world was being divided into owners and workers -- and the workers were rapidly becoming a servant class, something like what we'd call Services today. It caused trouble -- there are a lot of accounts of riots, and whole cities burning. But something else happened, not very long before the sudden and widespread collapse of the economies, and that was the invention of Madrigal.

"One simple drug. It gets referred to as the origin of the Company sometimes -- and that happens to be literally true. We take the stuff for granted -- slip some into Betsy's drink and Betsy will the cock-craving slut we all want her to be, ha ha. But when it invented it was revolutionary in a way no discovery since fire ever had been. Even the early formulation was effective on 98% of the female population, and it made women give men something men in those days didn't have -- full compliance, on demand. Women could be turned from saying no to the vast number of interested men, to saying yes to just about any cock they saw.

"The problem was... humanity, by which I mean males, was not ready for that brave new world. We'd been conditioned for thousands of years to strive and fight and woo and seduce as almost the sole activity we do, so we can have a shot at reproducing. We're wired to want it hard, because women set very high barriers to sex. You need to want it persistently, even ruthlessly, if you want to win. Evolution has been tuning us from the start, to want it hard, and do just about anything to get it.

"And suddenly technology reduced that whole struggle, the whole battle of career and courtship and achievement to impress women, to dropping a pill in their drink and waiting about three minutes.

"Nothing could have stopped the spread of Mad. It was the must-have drug, with the must being driven by the full force of evolutionary pressure. The company that developed it -- a bunch of thugs with science degrees and a lot of luck -- took to wholesale violence to control manufacturing and prevent knock-offs. They became vastly rich and answered to no one, and proceeded to grow in power and scale the ways governments do -- but without borders. The rich and powerful backed the new company -- the rich always back the winning horse. Laws were passed against the stuff -- the laws did nothing. Once a guy had his girl on Mad even once, he'd laugh at any law, any ethics, any system of philosophy that tried to tell him he shouldn't do it again. We talk about how addictive some of these drugs are -- we never mention that the real addiction is in using these drugs on others...

"Mad polarized opinions and redistributed wealth, at a time when wealth distribution was already a critical and world-wide problem. It was a trigger that fired at just the wrong time. Institutions collapsed, governments lost control of economies and populations, and people rioted, furious at a world where people worked eighty hours a week but salaries were shrinking, and ethical people told them not to drug and fuck the pretty girls, and governments increased taxes and tried to take away the awesome party drug that could get almost any loser laid. In metaphorical terms, everyone was sick and tired of getting Fucked by the Man, and wanted to try fucking a lot of women instead. Quite a few were willing to kill and burn their way to this brave new world, a glorious world in which women said yes, and powerful and rich people got beaten and stolen from. It was the great Lashing Out, and once it started to happen it happened quickly. A governing body once called "Congress", rule makers for the most powerful country in the world, were torn limb from limb in a flash riot that formed when fifty five thousand people hit the streets of a single city in a single night. Military organizations didn't step in to restore order -- a lot of them actually broke from their governments and backed Mad distribution, because the ones that did got it for free.

"It was the newly formed Company itself, which restored order. The rich cannot survive in a world of chaos -- they need obedient and organized sheep to run the moneymaking machines, if they want to stay rich. The rich had all backed the company that produced Mad -- so they simply organized all their resources behind it, turning it into an Everything Company, and nearly a shadow government. Existing legitimate governments merged, to aggregate the power needed to survive. The first task was to restore order. The solution there was free distribution of Mad -- for one week, to every male on earth. In many countries they simply spiked the water and food supply. It got the riots to stop, simply because everyone was suddenly too busy to riot. Not long thereafter, women had pregnancies to care for, because this was the era before widespread anti-fertility shots. It turns out the pregnancies quell rioting, too. In the chaos, the militaries were transformed into our modern day Police, governments reorganized... and a new social order emerged.

"It's a carefully managed order. Services people -- something like three quarters of the population, but it's hard to get exact numbers -- are managed to the poverty level. The Governments call it Fairly Managed Wealth, which is proof that you can give any name to anything. The rest of us run the great machine which keeps them fed, poor and exploitable. We harvest the brightest to do the actual work and the prettiest for other purposes, and let the ruthless rise to the top. It's a very stable system. Everything is in balance. It even cures overpopulation. The war in Europa -- people make all sorts of claims as to what's being fought over, the rhetoric and polemics go on and on, but I've seen the data. Two governments agreed to fight a war because they both had excess population. There's no other reason for it. The Company backs it because weapons sales are always a bonus and the food supply is a little squeezed."




Why I Love My Job Ch. 09



"This is a fascinating fantasy, Mister Gladgrind. But even if there was a single reputable source for any of it, it would fail to be relevant. You're on corporate review for kidnapping, murder, and unmutuality. What the world was like before you were born has no bearing."

"I'll show why it's relevant... I'd like to name a witness and question him."

"You have no right to do that."

"But," said Bill Naros, "I do have that right, and as I'm also the witness to be questioned, at this point I'm inserting myself into the proceedings. Mister Gladgrind, what are your questions?"

The council was shocked silent.

"Is my assessment of the time before the Lashing Out, accurate?"

"As historian, Mister Gladgrind, I will say that your account lacks a lot of detail, but in general, yes it is. A radical and worldwide shift in society occurred -- a widespread collapse of systems and societies, some of them with thousands of years of history. Over the next two centuries and some, details of the world as it was before, have been gradually covered up. And the most salient point -- yes, what we call the Company today was the organization that both triggered the collapse, inadvertently, and then assembled the political and economic capital to rebuild society worldwide in the image of its own economic interests. Roughly speaking, the world has been divided into the powerless and the powerful: with the powerful in the Company and the Governments, the Police as a sort of privileged servant class, and the rest of the world as the servant labor, and also serving as the reproductive battery that keeps the powerful supplied with pawns to toy with."

"And... can you give a general outline of the current goals of the company?"

"This is objectionable," said Mister Dark. "Historians cannot speak for the company and cannot discuss its goals."

"Oh, I don't speak for the company," Bill said, cheerfully. "I can only give opinion, backed up by historical trends and some informal conversations I've had. But the goals, in my opinion, are two. First, social stability. The people running the show worked to make the changes I described and have a huge stake in making sure nothing ever changes. The second goal is the development of longevity. Mister Dark, you see, plans to live forever, as a sort of supreme societal shadow ruler. That's what the drug research is actually about. The X projects are actually only a cover, though I understand that it's an important cover since Mister Dark plans to be sexual for the rest of his life and there's concerns that without drugs to help, that would be a problem after a couple centuries. Mister Dark has decided to be a godlike entity, and is doing widespread experimentation on volunteers - and some people who were volunteered - to get there."

"Have people died in these experiments?"

"Thousands. People sign up to try new drugs that make sex awesome; they don't realize they are also being dosed with other things. The survival rate isn't high. A number of the casualties of the current war weren't killed by bullets. There's also a disease called Accelerated Aging Syndrome, it's said to be caused by a rare virus... it's not. It's caused by Mister Dark's research; the drugs tend to fail horribly."

"But he thinks it's possible to develop longevity? And then everyone will live forever?"

"He knows it's possible, because there's an account of some scientists and military people who stumbled upon some sort of discovery, years ago -- involving some sort of technique for agelessness. They vanished, no one knows how or where, but they left behind some data that suggests they found a way to put off death indefinitely. Unfortunately, or maybe very fortunately, they didn't leave behind enough data to replicate the discovery. But when the data came to light -- and it came to light because I, as historian, researched these vague rumors of longevity -- the company decided to pursue the research -- at all costs. But in my opinion, not everyone is going to get to live forever. Only he is."

"What happens if he succeeds, Bill?"

"It's incalculable. But under the current Mister Dark, the Company has shown an increasing willingness to do widespread drug and biological agent testing on an unknowing population. The expression for that used to be 'playing god'. Sooner or later, something will go horribly wrong, as it always does when utterly amoral people gain vast power."

"And why did we arrange to hide Miss Cheryl from him?"

"Because I knew that once her mind was quite broken, she'd be used in further drug testing, for the longevity project. She'd die, because they pretty much always do. That would have been considered a good thing by Management, because as Samuel's girlfriend, and during her rape and hypnosis by the Company, she'd overheard some things that might have been awkward.... In short, you've been accused of murder because you made Cheryl disappear -- but you made Cheryl disappear because you knew she'd otherwise be murdered, by the same decree from the same man that has caused thousands of others to be murdered."

"But Bill, you've revealed a lot of company confidential data today. Why is it that you believe we both won't be killed for it? Or Cheryl or Julianne or anyone else we know?"

"I'm sure Mister Dark has already given those orders. But despite the strict security on this place, a recording of the proceedings has found its way to at least seven people, Cheryl being one of them. If anything ever happens to any of us, the recording and quite a lot of secret records I've been amassing for five years, go straight to Media. The company has a little problem, you see. The three quarters of the world's population that's been managed to virtual slavery, have been taught that things are getting better, that there's hope for their children, that they won't always be effectively powerless slaves to the ruling elite. They want to believe it, and so they don't revolt. If it comes out that things are never going to change and their children are nothing but future slaves and future whores in the making, they will revolt -- and not even the Company is going to survive if three out of every four people decide it shouldn't. The Governments won't like it much either. Of course the Company can try the old Madrigal-in-the-water-supply trick again, to quell the riots, but people can only fuck for so long, and this time there wouldn't be a baby boom to distract everyone. Good thing, too, the world food supply couldn't handle one... there's no possible ending that won't get Mister Dark killed, if word of his plans gets out."

"The flaw in that thinking is that no one knows who I am," Mister Dark said.

"A few people in the Company do," I said. "And they won't shelter you as the Company collapses under the riots. A few of them might even think the only way to stop the riots is to reveal you and have you lynched. That wouldn't actually stop the collapse, but it will be the only play they have, and they'll give it a try. Nothing left to lose at that point. So, you're going to rescind the execution orders and give me, Bill, Julianne and Cheryl full pensions at the inner circle two level, starting today, and a bonus of one billion credits each for our resourcefulness. These utterly bogus charges will never go to the Police or anywhere else. Vice President Samuel Gates will be fired for cause as of today and his pension will be reassigned and divided among the employees you forced into your experimentation program, or their families, for the ones who died. Oh, and the drug known as Gay X gets lost forever. It's fucking repulsive."

"That's all, Mister Gladgrind? You don't want to bargain for a halt to the alleged longevity research? Don't you want to break the fountain of youth?"

"I'd love to. But you wouldn't keep that promise. It's your obsession. You'd some way to continue it no matter what we agreed to. Besides... you'll fail. I've spoken to some people in med science, hypothetically, and they all agree it needs something beyond any drug to make it work. Your researchers are happy to spend your money but they won't find a thing. You're killing people for nothing, but at least you won't rule my great-great grandchildren."

"If I do, my vengeance on them will be beyond your comprehension."

"Yeah, maybe I better use my new fortune to fund theoretical research into interstellar travel. Just to give future generations an option far away from you, if you succeed... I think we're done here?"

"Yes. You, Bill, Cheryl and Julianne are officially retired from the company. There will be no backlash against anyone. Enjoy your pensions. I do not expect to ever hear from any of you again. If rumors of any of this surface, I'll find you and everyone you ever dealt with, long before anyone finds me."

I nodded. "We have an accord."

I was now, I decided, CEO of Julianne Interstellar Drive Systems. That felt like a good career move.

I walked out, with Bill and Julianne, and cleaned out my desk. For good measure I doused my chair and desk in denatured alcohol, and set fire to it as I left, because who hasn't wanted to?