The Board Room

1 Bigots

The firm was not without its bigots. Though Sydd had gotten there by talent alone—her first case was sexual and gender discrimination...she brought in the client—a wmn, just like herself: educated, professional, sophisticated; discriminated against, and highly put out—she won big—really big—and the 'big daddies' couldn't just let her walk....so an offer was made—commensurate with her win.... And here she was a partner in a very prestigious law firm—a senior partner who transgressed all gender and sexual codes.... Nah...she wasn't one of the bois...or the grls for that matter—too dark...and too well-hung....

But even this level of paradise had its problems....ask Lucifer....ask God.... And here we were, only a few stories up from purgatory...nowhere near heaven yet....

They were about a year into it now...an epidemic of resignations and firings.... A year since the new partnerships were announced and the 'gang of three' got their suites....young women and young men of color made the revolving doors look like turbine blades.... The last straw on the back of Sydd's camel was when the move was made against her suite's team....

Stupid move....stupid move....the perpetrators clearly hadn't done their homework.... They hadn't taken into account, how long Sydd had been around—senior among partners at her level; rumored next executive VP....and that was light weight.... What they really missed was that she was a bitch.... O, they had discussed her 'bitch-ness' at their favorite watering hole...those discussions went in two directions, diametrically opposed, but in small minds, never irreconcilable: she was disgusting and a disgrace to such a prestigious firm—the ultimate affirmative action baby; or they wanted to show her what a bitch she was: they had all kinds of dick for her—or so it seemed....

They underestimated.... They confused 'bitch-ness' for 'bitch-i-ness'....and here were the seeds of their undoing....

Sydd had watched this trio from the moment they entered the firm as clerks, interns, grunts....she had watched them mature in their bigotry and arrogance as they rose.... They were smart enough legally; but they underestimated everyone they deemed less than them....

Sydd shared coffee with the secretaries and paralegals....there were bag lunches with her interns and others....eventually she heard things over the years.... Not enough to block promotions, but enough to stockpile—like ammunition—for the right moment....

***

Pinstriped-down, she marched into the corner office—she never waited to be announced.... He swiveled in his chair....the suit as expensive as all get-out; hair cut at $250 a seating; nails buffed to a soft rosy glow—the man reeked money and power—and he was attractive, Sydd thought, as far as men and white folks could be.... He had, over the years, made clear—in that oblique way that lawyers do to cover their asses [reference some of our past presidents]—that he'd do almost anything to kneel between Sydd's thighs.... Sydd had no need to even entertain that option—her position was always too strong for that....here....

He rocked around. 'I've been expecting you...'

'Some things take time,' was her reply....

'House-cleaning?' he arched a brow....

'House-cleaning'.... She said flatly....

He made note of her suit....a tailored, winter wool; this one black—not blue, or charcoal, or gray—a brilliant black, three-piece with heavy chalk stripes—old school style....the pinstripes were for youngsters and those who had no sense of the history of this look.... The suit fit in all the right places.... It was the kind of garment on this body that would have shut this office down if everyone except the newest among them were not totally use to it—'inured'—is the word.... The jacket was man-cut and double-breasted—she had unbuttoned it as she leaned across his desk to make her point....the vest was tight and lapelled; beneath it was a crisp, shockingly white shirt and the most exquisite tie [he made a mental note: get the name of her tailor and shirtmaker, and make her an offer for that tie!]....the skirt fell just above the knee...a tight, tight pencil that hugged an ass that must have seen twenty years of marathons...then the real damage was done by the back-slit that rose to the tops of her very expensive seamed Cuban-heeled stockings....the pumps were soft, glossy black—long-toed and wing-tipped—with a 3 ½ inch stiletto heel....He recognized her business gear and settled back in his chair to await instruction....

'And of course, you have a plan; I know you do.'

'You know, Schuyler, sometimes you're just too friggin'cute,' she replied acidly....

He laughed loudly. This meant two things: she was right; and he was ready to listen.... 'Look...you're paid what you're paid because you're the best at what you do....you're also the best at keeping this firm out of the shit, and getting us out when we're deep in it.... I defer to you on all counts.... It's a wonder you don't have my job....'

'Yeh...it is a wonder, but that's not the issue today.... The issue today is to stop the hemorrhaging—the antics of these three are bleeding us to death; and don't think there's not a lawsuit—in fact, several—waiting on us.... Truth be told, if I didn't work here, I'd have your ass in knot from now til judgment day....'

Schuyler turned paler than he actually was...his adam's apple knotting above his collar.... 'Shit, Sydd...are we in that much trouble? I mean, I thought it was just simple harassment....you know, hazing....'

'That's the problem with you boiz—and some of you girls—Schuy...you always think it's simple—fun and games—you're fucking with people's livelihoods and their heads.... This could become a 'post office' because of those three....'

Schuyler's knot got even bigger as he took in Sydian's analysis....Finally, 'What do you propose?'

'First, we're going to 'chasten' the group and see who returns to the fold....those who don't.... kiss 'em 'goodbye,''....

'Chasten? I didn't know you were a student of de Sade,' he chuckled...

'So much you don't know; but then it's the mystery you love, right? You only need to know that I get it done.... Besides, the Marquis is always a good read—so much insight into human nature....' With that, she blew him a mock kiss, slid from his desk, spun on her heel and was out the door.... 'Transfer Amy to my suite,' she said over her shoulder...

She raided his secretary's candy bowl as she breezed by and gave her a wink...

Time for some serious play....

***

2 The Chastening Rod

The mere thought of chastisement can have a funny effect...some people fold immediately—they capitulate—surrender.... Others dig in their heels for the medium or the long haul—they believe themselves in a position to 'fight'...another analytical error...a tactical blunder—one that Sydd had anticipated and was ready to savor....

Amy was a willowy, big-titted blond—'racked,' Sydd once heard in a passing remark—legs that went on for days...attractive... if you like them pale....She sat at one end of Sydd's conference table and tried not to fidget—tried to keep her cool—Sydd appreciated this; it would make the game that much more enjoyable....even though Amy's veneer was wearing thin and showing it....

Sydd made her wait just a bit longer as she extended her overseas call....She ended the call on this note—matter-of-factly, in a level tone—'Exile her.... Where? I don't know...don't care....Is there such a place as Slobovia? Antarctica will do....as close to hell as possible is preferable....Before she's fired—maybe in a year or so—I want her in the lowest basement we have....I want sunlight to be a remote memory during her working hours; and I want those working hours to be the longest you can possibly arrange...anyone who jeopardizes the firm and our position in this way should become our object-lesson....MY personal object-lesson....thanks for the update....I truly appreciate it....I've always known that I could count on you....Bye-bye....A la prochaine....'

'Amy...welcome'....

A fine mist of sweat beaded the porcelain forehead....almost indiscernible....almost....

***

Amy left the office visibly shaken....Sydian—Ms Black—had said nothing that suggested threat....it was simply the demeanor of power....and the black wmn...that was enough....then the call....assignments....ending with: 'We understand each other perfectly, don't we?' ....and the call....

Amy was fortunate that no one saw her as she shuddered to the washroom....her panties were so wet she thought she had pissed herself....

Sydian Black was a formidable creature....quite formidable....for the first time, Amy began to have misgivings about the intentions of her cocky cohort to re-shape the firm....not only had they dismissed, they simply hadn't seen the firm's most dangerous champion....S. O. Black....

***

She needed a drink....clearly more than simply 'a drink'....

She elbowed her way into the bar and saw her two co-conspirators there already, downing beers and shots....the 'Double-Dicks' as they sometimes referred to themselves....their legal euphemism—supposedly—they were such a legal powerhouse that the opposition was doubly fucked when they entered the courtroom....so much for legends in their own minds....

She crashed into the chair and ordered a double....

'You looked fucked, Babe...and I didn't do it,' chuckled Dick-One....

A comment she would have normally overlooked and turned into quick witted, almost razored banter, received 'O shut the fuck up!' as she turned up the shot and motioned for another....

'Shit!'...Dick-Two... 'the bitch must have shown you her cock, day one....'

Before downing number three.... 'if she had it'd be more than you two have given me combined....'

This froze conversation for two or three very pregnant pauses....Then one of the guys spoke: 'Not a good day, huh?'

Number four, slurred but clear... 'the bitch is a killer—an executioner—cold-hearted as they come...very, very dangerous....'

She called for number five. The bartender demurred....before she could protest...cause a scene about being a high-powered lawyer for a prestigious firm, one of the Dicks was motioned to the bar and asked—actually instructed—to remove the 'lady' from the premises to avoid further embarrassment...for the three of them....

They lurched her towards the door....

They hadn't noticed the rather dapper young black man in the booth across from them....he with his Financial Times....and his very small digital camera....recording it all....

The ways that things unfold....

All good plans are multiples of contingencies....all successful plans are so because of seized opportunities....

***

3 Sweating It

'Dangerous....you've got that right, girly,' Sydd said softly to herself as she went through the video download Jr had sent her.... 'Only you and the bois don't know how dangerous....yet....'

***

The suit was a rich gold-bronze glen-plaid—touch of teal, here and there...another double-breasted job—and she had the breasts for it!—heavy wool tweed—the weather was weather here in the lake-front city....another crisp white shirt—unbuttoned just so....over that she had worn an equally rich-looking ankle-length dark, faux fur and matching beret....the shoes, standard three and a half inch 'office' stilettos—that long toe she'd come to like very much—elastic mesh sling-backs....deep, soft man-tan in color....another exquisite look....

***

Test Number Two....Amy needed to report....two weeks after her first 'talk' with Sydd, she needed to give an update—a progress report on her work—routine...strictly routine....or it should have been....

She walked into the huge corner suite...sweating mental bullets....As she passed Sydd's manager, her outward persona was as flawless as ice sculpture....through the inner doors, the core began to melt....

These days, Sydd took particular delight in giving witness to and being the cause of Amy's meltdowns....they came with ever increasing frequency....

Funny how these things can be sensed....

Sydd...on the phone again—this would be perpetual for any meeting with Amy—paced the huge office....from her windows you could see the river drop into the lake—rumor had it that from her terrace she could look right into her office....

'Schuyler....you'll have to come down here....I don't have the time....we need to crush them now, like the cockroaches they are.... OK, babe....see you in an hour....'

Amy was mesmerized...then shocked....she was ashen—paler...much paler than her usual self....She neglected the fact that she had no context for the conversation she had just overheard, but she was certain that she had just heard her boss direct the CEO of the firm to come down to her office because she was 'too busy' to come to his—to 'crush the cockroaches'....

She swallowed hard and tried to focus....and when she did, the only thing that came into view was this powerful, yet beautiful terror pacing before her....

Sydd swiveled with the receiver still at her ear...nine feet—three yards on a football field—from Amy's seat....crotch high....Amy's line of vision—crotch high....

Sydd paused there...receiver to ear—another call had clicked in—legs gapped, tweeded pelvis slightly thrust forward...she held the pose...nonchalantly...ignoring her 'victim' as she dispatched orders....

Amy was mesmerized....she stared at what she thought she saw....she thought...she thought under rich wool tweed...beneath the deep pattern of glen plaid she saw the an outline of thickness fill the inside of Sydd's thigh.... she felt flush....felt a light mist rise on her forehead—a common occurrence since she had arrived in this suite—and then...unconsciously, she licked her lips.... At that she thought she detected a slight smirk on her boss's lips before she pirouetted on a stiletto, leaned over the broad desk and gave her the ass....

That is....a view of the ass—magnificent view of magnificent ass—never missing a beat in the transaction of business....Amy moaned—to herself—was surprised and had to catch herself....and then wondered: 'Why do black women have such marvelous asses?'....caught herself again as Sydd spun back around, dropped the phone into its cradle and asked, 'Now...where were we?...'

Sydd knew damn well where they 'were'....and she directed Amy's attention to the 'where' by placing one well-formed ass-cheek on her desk while one long gapped leg dangled to floor....the form beneath the thigh fabric thickening....

Sydd began the 'interrogation'...the 'tools of torture' on subtle display....the kind of 'display' that made the 'viewer' rub her eyes in disbelief....Sydd was purposeful....there was nothing between the stimulating scratch of heavy wool tweed and her cock except skin....

For the next half hour or so, her talk with Amy was laced with double-entendre....it began with 'briefs'—innocent enough—and progressed hotly through nuanced legalize that advised Amy not to get 'dicked' during her opening argument....the observation that unpreparedness was akin to 'bending over...a sure way to get ass-fucked'....the need to watch out for the 'cocksure'....and ended with Sydd pointing to the door and dismissing her with: 'We need to be absolutely clear, when we march into court, the only thing on this team that gets fucked is pussy....'

Through it all, Amy squirmed and fidgeted....she even bit her lip...tried not to stare at the snake in Sydd's trou....and then just gave up on the effort and became stupefied.... 'mesmerized' is the word as Sydd's sharp oral ejaculation of 'pussy' snapped her out of her reverie—her musings on 'what' was in her lady-boss's pants, and if and when would she ever find out....

She tried to regain some legal, if not lady-like composure as she tried not to stagger from Sydd's office....clearly headed for the ladies' room....

Sydd gave a knowing nod to her manager who glanced at a clerk....at a decent interval Amy was joined in the facility....

Though Amy would have never known—she was 'pre-occupied'—she had slid into a stall, bolted the door as fast as she possibly could....hoisted her skirt and dropped her drawers even faster....the position she assumed—her back to the door, her head braced on a forearm against the wall would make any 'novice' observer wonder what an anatomical women might be capable of in such a position....

Our 'observer' was anything but a novice...and she had been tracking Amy from the first day she entered suite.... It took a while for Amy's bathroom antics to manifest themselves, but when they did they were as predictable as clock-work...and raised more steam than a sauna.... On more than one occasion, our 'observer' had to lock herself in a stall and seek 'relief' as well....

Amy braced herself against the wall, her head cradled against her forearm....a master at what she about to do, she stuck her whole hand into her mouth and pulled it out spitty....she gapped her legs as far as possible and pushed the three middle fingers up her cunt....the little finger found her asshole and entered....as soon as her thumb grazed her clit, she came....almost lost her balance....regained it....and then began fuck herself with a vengeance...visions of Sydian dancing through her head....in the space of a quarter hour she came four more times....

She righted herself and stepped from the stall licking her fingers....she couldn't resist it....

Our observer caught all this from her own toilet-perch....if she licked her own fingers, we'll never know....

Conveniently, the manager had arranged for this ladies' room to be closed for 'repairs' while Amy was engaged....like everything else she was oblivious to that too....

***

In the bar...neither 'potted' nor 'crocked'...Amy sat between her two co-conspirators...hand grazing their thighs....absentmindedly: 'I need to get fucked...maybe the two of you can approximate the one cock I really want....'

***

The two Dicks may have been offended...even embarrassed...but they were—if nothing else—supreme opportunists....and it wasn't as if they hadn't sampled all of Amy's holes before—singularly and in tandem....bigots like kinky sex too.... They were dutiful....and punishing....they tried to fuck the shit out her—literally—that night....

***

4 Lunch

Big law firms are corporate entities. The firm that Schuyler Clewles ran was one of the biggest and most prestigious in the state. His partners could command almost anything they wished...within reason. For instance, senior partners, each, had their own dining rooms—for entertaining clients and all....then there was the executive dining room....Yes, even democracy has its pecking order, and in the democracy-less world of corporate law, class and caste ruled....

Unless, of course, you were S. O. Black....Sydd was known to bring her manager, clerks and interns in to the exec lunch on occasion... 'We need to shake things up a bit!' she'd tell them on the way up.... This time she appeared solo...different plan...same agenda....

It was a winter-white day...another pants-suit....military cropped jacket—high necked, a bit of gold braid; pleated and cuffed pants over a winter-white angora turtleneck...ankle boots the same color....nestling that dangerously dark face with its shock of short, winter wheat napps....that was Sydd as she glided into the dining room....winter-white pashmina round her neck and shoulders....

The two of them saw her—started for a moment, then starred—then tried to go back to their meal....under his breath, Dick One muttered, 'Bitch....' Dick Two grunted in assent....

Surprising the two of them, without invitation, she had the waiter draw the chair at their table, and sat down....Dick Two choked on red wine....couldn't regain his composure before he stained his heavily starched white shirt.... Ever at the ready, in a lightening motion, Sydd dabbed her linen napkin into her water glass, grabbed his tie and yanked him to her as she blotted the spot.... 'Are you alright, Richard?' she intoned.... 'That will stop it from spreading, but I'm afraid you've ruined a terribly expensive shirt....but we pay you enough to buy many, many more, don't we?'....