Alphia Corporation Ch. 16

Sam stood up from his desk and stretched. It had been a few hours since he sat down and he'd gotten sucked into a project. Managing a few dozen intelligent people was no joke, that, on top of his job overseeing the IT in the firm was a huge commitment.

He shifted in his seat. The Arrangement was a huge commitment, too.

A few weeks had passed since he wore the yellow tie to the office. Carrie had been so proud of him, primping and priming him. Helping him get dressed, soothing his nerves.

She had also helped him get prepped that morning just in case he was going to be used at work. There was always now that bottle of lube ever-present in his briefcase.

"This is hot ... but what the heck is wrong with me?" Sam wondered to himself for the umpteenth million time. After long conversations with Gary and the other junior executives that question no longer carried that frisson of fear. This was just adult play, exploration of submission that was fun. It did not take anything away from him as a man ... it was just an opportunity to safely explore.

Carrie had certainly helped, that first morning he was going to work with that bizarrely arousing and absolutely fucking terrifying yellow tie. Carrie had been well prepared to help him that morning from long conversations, herself, with Karen and Emily.

And probably other of the amazing wives in The Arrangement.

He allowed himself the pleasure of a trip down memory lane. His wife had snuggled him, and sucked him for a little while, but explained that Karen strongly recommended that he go to work frustrated.

"It'll be a lot easier, don't you think, honey, if you don't cum this morning?" Carrie had murmured, looking up from her position curled up between his legs, stroking his extremely hard cock as he begged her to finish.

"Oh gawd," Sam whined.

Carrie had been so beautiful, her golden hair still mussed from the night's sleep and from the hard pounding that Gary had given her the night before.

"Besides, darling, Karen told me to leave you on edge and I think that direction really came from Mr. Borges, so ...", she looked up at her loving husband with such a sweet smile, "so ... I'm so sorry, but I think I have to stop here."

"Goddamnit!" Sam had raged, surprising himself and shocking Carrie.

He was going to rage and be angry, but the shocked look in his wife's face, and the desperate fear that he was going to demand to stop The Arrangement was like a hammer blow.

They shared a look.

"Oh ... you WANT this?" He said to his wife, almost accusingly.

"Oh, honey, I love you so much," Carrie crawled up her husband and kissed him. "But I NEED this. I am all, 100%, completely in. I don't know what I would do if we had to walk away from ...".

She had tailed off, not sure how to express herself.

"The Arrangement," Sam suggested a completion to her thought.

Carrie shook her head. "That's not it ... I mean, yes, but ...," she paused and frowned in thought. Sam, for the millionth time realized how beautiful and lovely his wife was, her delicate features screwed into a thinking look. "I need this, and I think you can learn to really enjoy it," Carrie said very seriously, looking directly into her husband's loving and slightly anxious eyes.

She could feel his cock deflate a bit in her hand. Her darling husband looked anxious. "As he should," Carrie thought to herself.

"I want you, us, to succeed at Alphia, Sam," she said. "I want you to lean into The Arrangement. I want you, like the other successful Junior Executive husbands, to really do everything you can to advance. That means work hard, which you already do ... but it also means that you -- like Gary and Emily's husband -- do everything you can in The Arrangement to enhance the sexual pleasure of all the Senior Executives."

Sam felt himself pale, and he whispered: "Oh my God ...".

Carrie glanced down at her husband's penis which had swelled in her hand again, despite his other reaction.

She leaned into her husband's ear. "Darling, I want both of us to be good little sluts for The Arrangement ...".

Sam was yanked back to the present by the insistent soft electronic sound of an internal Alphia email. He glanced it and pulled his brain back to work.

His cock, though ... that little soldier remained at attention, waiting for more fun.

...

Sam was concentrating on understanding the email of a team leader on one of the groups that reported to him now. It was another coding problem that was below his present paygrade, so to speak, but people still turned to him to solve technical problems that bedeviled different parts of the company.

Even before his promotion, he had become sort of the guru for that side of the business. He remembered receiving a number of emails and telephone calls over just the 18 months he was at the company from team leaders and junior executives he did not even know, looking for his expertise. Since his promotion, Steve Borges had insisted he set up a small group of people, other good coders, to run interference for him.

"You are too valuable to the company to be wasting your time on that stuff," he had instructed Sam in his normal, brusque manner. "You got some serious brains, and we need you at the top level thinking here."

And so now only the truly complicated and intractable problems came across his desk. He smiled as he read through the email, seeing pretty much immediately the problem they were having, recalling now an email from a former junior executive that he thought was a little bit overanxious. He wondered idly whether he 'saved' the junior executive or his wife from a good fucking by solving his problem. This was over a year ago now.

"Who was that junior executive, anyway?" Sam mused, looking up as though the answer was floating in the air in his office.

He couldn't place the name, and he looked through the company directory for junior and senior executives. Nothing rang a bell.

"Wonder what happened, there," he mused.

He was just diving back into the project when he heard his secretary say, "Hello, Mrs. Stevenson."

Sam's head jerked up, work forgotten, and a moment later he heard his wife's voice say hello to his secretary and then Carrie was in the doorway to his office and through to her husband.

She was dressed in one of her light sundresses. He could not tell if she was wearing a bra until she moved to close the door behind her and he could see the liquid motion of her breasts under her dress.

"Oh my God are you a sight for sore eyes!" Sam had exclaimed, enjoying very much that the only thing between Carrie and her dress were his dreams. She was, maybe, entirely naked under that dress.

"What brings you here? You've not seen my new office. You like?"

"Mm-hmm," Carrie said, coming around the office, leaning over his desk and standing on her tiptoes to give her husband a kiss. "I'm just here for a moment longer. Have to get home and take over for the sitter."

"Oh, ok," Sam said. "not complaining, you look like an angel ... but why are you ...?"

"I was working, too!" Carrie said lightly with an insouciant laugh. "Mr. Parsons called me out to meet a client, or a vendor or someone moderately important," Carrie replied, looking around the office for the first time. "Nice."

"Whoa ... hot," Sam breathed.

She nodded and looked back at her husband. "I think I am getting good at this," Carrie said, her eyes bright. "I was so excited to be called out, and those guys were so hot for me." She reassured him and grinned at Sam's look of horny confusion.

"It was easy," she said, grinning at him. "Your wife is such a slut now! All I had to do was blow two guys. A couple of clients or vendors, I think. I did not get their names and I did not recognize them. Just on my knees, back and forth until they came in my mouth. Easy peasy."

She gave her husband another quick kiss.

"They didn't fuck you?" Sam asked, surprised and, he realized with some surprise, slightly offended.

Carrie gave a fake frown. "No ... but Mr. Parsons bent me over after they were done!" She concluded happily. "I love that man's cock!"

"Oh, jesus," Sam sighed in ecstatic humiliation as he collapsed into his office chair.

His wife gave him a smoky, sultry look and plopped herself down in his lap and gave a little happy sigh as she felt her husband's arms around her.

"He took my panties as souvenir. Toodle-oo! See you tonight!"

Sam's mouth gaped open in surprise.

Carrie giggled.

Her light perfume still wafted in the air-conditioned office after the stunned Sam watched his lively and very slutty wife flounce off. He closed his mouth and dropped back into his office chair.

"Damn," he muttered. "That's so hot!" He shook his head to try to clear it. "Fuck, get your brain back on work. You've got a meeting with Borges at 4."

-----

At two o'clock his secretary buzzed him. He picked up the phone. "Yes?"

"Mr. Stevenson, Mr. Parsons just called and said he needed you in his office immediately." Her voice was a bit anxious. "He told me to tell you that it was an emergency and he needed your services right away."

Sam gasped silently for a moment in shock but realized that she had totally missed Mr. Parsons' clearly intended double entendre.

"OK, thank you, Alice," Sam said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Probably some computer problem and he wants it solved right away."

"Oh, of course," she replied.

"I might not be back before my meeting with Mr. Borges at 3, so would be please hold my calls for the rest of the day?" Sam asked, politely giving her instruction.

"Yes, of course."

Sam gathered the documents that he needed for the meeting with Mr. Borges, took a deep breath and put on his suit coat.

He went over in his mind the tasks he had for the day, sent a few emails to make sure things remained on track, rescheduled a call he had with a vendor in the early afternoon and headed out for his appointment with the man who had just fucked his darling Carrie.

------

"So, Sam ...," Mr. Parsons drawled with a smirk to his junior executive as Sam walked into the dominant male's larger office, "used your wife like a little slut today. She did a great job, as we have come to expect from her."

Mr. Parsons nodded at the door and Sam gratefully pushed it shut behind him.

"Unfortunately, Borges pulled rank on me," Mr. Parsons grinned. "I was going to make you blow me while I told you about how I fucked your beautiful wife, but that is not going to happen."

Sam blanched. "Y-yes, sir."

"But I did want you to know that you wore that Yellow Tie well last week. Tough day, right?"

Sam turned red. He did not trust himself to speak but nodded.

"Yeah, that's not a usual thing," Parsons said reassuringly. "I mean, its not that I haven't partaken from time to time, but I prefer using your wives than you junior executives. It's good to know that you can do what needs to be done, though. We have had a few junior executives bail from the whole Arrangement when it came time to earn that Yellow Tie."

Sam let out a breath. "Well, sir, I could see that. It was a ... challenging night."

"Hah, I bet it was!" Parsons said. "I wanted to be the one to break Gary in, but he got ridden the first time by the junior executive who promoted him, as is customary."

A dozen questions swirled in Sam's mind, but he did not know where to start. Luckily, Mr. Parsons moved on to safer grounds.

"Sam, you are doing great on these projects you have going on, and I've been using the internet marketing technology to cut the marketing expense for servicing customers everywhere. Once google figures out how they are being hornswoggled, the game will be over, but until then ... Blue Water, baby!"

Mr. Parsons laughed.

"Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you on your work here so far, and how you are dealing with the more challenging parts of The Arrangement. Good work."

"Thank you," Sam said, and meaning it.

Mr. Parsons grinned. "And to gloat that I fucked your wife over lunch, of course!" He laughed. "That is one sweet, sweet pussy."

"Indeed," Sam agreed.

"But there is something I need you to do for me, Sam. No joke," Mr. Parsons said.

"Of course, what do you need?"

"I need you to practice really learning your role, sexually, in The Arrangement," Mr. Parsons said, chuckling at the shocked look at Sam's face.

"I know it is incredibly erotic to know -- and sometimes see -- your wife being used. And I know you junior executives are jonesing about each other's wives ... but we don't want any of you junior executives jerking off. Ever."

"Wha -- a- at," Sam exclaimed.

"No bullshit. We need to know that when we tell a hotwife to shut you down, you are shut down completely. We need that kind of control to make this Arrangement work. There are ways to help if it is too much of a struggle, but it is part of the fun of the senior executive team that you junior executives are frustrated while we fuck all the time."

Sam just stared at him, open mouthed.

"So, if you and Carrie are still fucking, or you junior executives swap wives for a little side fun ... that is just fine with us. But when we tell your wife to shut you down for a while, it's done. No more until we release you. Got it?"

Sam paused a moment. "Are you fucking serious, dude?"

"Hey! Watch your mouth, cuck!" Mr. Parsons flared. "Yes, I am completely serious."

"What the fuck for?" Sam demanded. "Why does that matter, so long as we ... perform?"

"OK OK," Mr. Parsons said, motioning with his hands for Sam to calm down. "I understand where you are coming from here. Few things, though."

Sam started to talk again but Parsons waved him off.

"First," Mr. Parsons said, ticking a point off with a finger, "you are a subordinate male, a cuck and you do what the fuck you are told. That's one of the bottom line rules of The Arrangement. Things have gotten sloppy, kind of, over time and we are reining things in again."

Mr. Parsons paused and looked over his glasses at Sam. "You know some of that, I'm sure, from the meeting with the ladies and Tom Burroughs, right?"

Parsons sighed at Sam's look of confusion.

"Nancy had not been turned out like the corporate slut she is because ... she was the only female junior executive, right? And we had been using her too much during the day because ... she was female and available. Now you guys are sucking more cock, and Nancy is available for business meetings with clients and all sorts of fun. Use her as you would -- subject to her work schedule -- to seduce clients, close deals, etc."

Parsons shook his head at Sam's sudden look of understanding.

"Second," he said, looking straight at Sam to make sure that he had the junior executive's undivided attention, "there are certain ... people we deal with who like to play a certain way. They like their cucks ... desperate, if you know what I mean."

"Ummm," Sam said, "I don't understand."

Mr. Parsons rolled his eyes. "Some aggressive guys like very clear delineation of the roles, especially when he is fucking another man's wife."

Sam just looked at him, frowning as he tried to follow along.

"Meaning, as I've heard said from some people in this version of the cuck lifestyle: 'Only dominant males get to fuck and to cum. Subordinate males just have to suffer. It's the way nature works.'"

Parsons snorted. "Now I don't believe that bullshit, but I can assure you that it is some serious intense fun -- even more than usual -- if you lot are desperate, jealous and your cucky angst to the nth degree when we play. Why do you think Borges put you two on voluntary shutdown when we got to London that weekend you were first promoted?"

"Oh, right," Sam said, going down sordid memory lane. "That did add a certain ... spice to things."

"Exactly!" Mr. Parsons said happily. "You get it! But the third thing," he continued, again looking seriously at Sam with a third finger raised, "if fucking your wife knowing you are desperate to cum and insanely jealous is fun for me ... makes me cum harder ... is just that much more intense ... provides a heightened amount of pleasure and release, well, then as a senior executive that is what the fuck I want."

He glared at Sam.

"Y-yes, sir," Sam stammered.

"That's right."

Parsons paused, thinking a moment, and then: "Fuck Borges, go lock the door."

Sam gasped but a look into Mr. Parsons' eyes made it clear that this was no drill.

Instantly shaky, he turned and walked over to the door and locked it. The sound of the lock sliding home seemed to ring in his ears. Behind him he could hear Mr. Parsons rummaging in a desk drawer.

Sam turned around to see Mr. Parsons coming out from around his desk. He held up a pair of handcuffs in leather, with some kind of strong looking stitching. From the glance Sam saw, they looked like very well made, expensive, strong and would likely not be uncomfortable like he imagined metal cuffs would feel.

Sam whitened, and alternately shrank and hardened. He felt tiny, trapped and extremely vulnerable.

Mr. Parsons beckoned him over impatiently and Sam obeyed the dominant male.

"Turn around!" Mr. Parsons said brusquely, pulling Sam's arm.

Sam felt Parsons grab his right arm and pull the hand to the small of Sam's back, and then felt the cuff go on. "Gimme the other," Parsons demanded and grabbed Sam's other hand.

He felt the click of the other cuff and he stood there for a moment, stunned.

"Turn around, cuck," Parsons ordered.

Sam turned and saw that Mr. Parsons had already unzipped his fly and pulled his dick out, half mast from having just fucked Carrie.

"On your knees," Parsons said, tapping Sam aggressively on the shoulder. Sam struggled to his knees, off balance because his hands were behind him. He noticed, as though in another world, that it was interesting how you needed your arms free for proper balance.

But the world came crashing back into sharp focus when Mr. Parsons shoved his hardening cock into Sam's mouth.

Sam gagged at the intrusion, but a rap on his head reminded him of his job and he began to suck.

"Taste your wife's cunt, cuck," Parsons growled.

Sam nodded and gurgled as Parsons used him roughly. He could taste Carrie on Mr. Parsons. It added to a level of humiliation he had not yet experienced and his head swam. He felt himself redden, and the shame excited him.

Parsons had two hands on Sam's head and was pulling the junior executive's head onto his now fully hard cock, gagging Sam on every downstroke.

"Mmmmmm," Parsons growled. "Gonna have to work on your deepthroat. Your wife gives better head."

Sam reddened even more, because being compared to Carrie in this subordinate position was shamefully arousing. He felt his cock twitch. "Oh jesus," Sam thought to himself, "is this right? what is wrong with me?"

But he also felt a surge of sexual energy and excitement, and he tried to take Mr. Parsons deep. He gagged but enjoyed both the moan and the chuckle.

There followed a few minutes of panting, gagging sounds and gurgles as Sam's saliva built up around the intruding cock.

As Parsons got more excited he became rougher and more insistent. Sam knew the signs, from his own self working a female to his pleasure, and from his experience now sucking off multiple men, and knew that Parsons was close.

"Better swallow all of it, cuck, if you don't want to go around the office with cum on your tie," Mr. Parsons groaned.

Sam tried to nod in acceptance but Parsons had a firm hand on his head, holding it in place as he fucked Sam's face. Parsons' head rolled back and his right leg trembled ... a 'tell' that Carrie had told her husband was Parsons' sign he was cumming. Sam could sense the dominant male's balls contract slightly and his cock hardened, and then spasmed.

...