Arrogant Bastard

Amy was on vacation already, so when Mrs. Carole went home early for the day, leaving Wendy alone in the office with her Boss on a Friday afternoon, the result was all too predictable. He called her into his office as soon as Mrs. Carole's beat up station wagon pulled out of the parking lot, presumably to go over an important case file, and Wendy wound up clinging to the corner's of his oak desk, panting and gasping as he fucked her from behind doggie style. He had a big cock, and was a crude, uncaring lover. He enjoyed sticking a wet, gooey forefinger into her anus, and slapping her ass cheeks loudly when he came, shooting his wad on her bare white ass before making her clean his meat and hairy nuts with her tongue and ruby red lips.

Clean it, good, Wendy....mmmmhhhmmm.

Good, girl, he breathed contentedly, patting her atop her blonde hair like a puppy. You're the best para-legal ever, I think.

Wendy mumbled thanks as she tucked his now limp, glistening penis away and zipped him up carefully. She hated herself for liking what he made her do. She'd spent two years earning an Associates Degree, then six month's becoming accredited as a paralegal, just to turn into a well dressed bimbo tossed over a desk whenever her Boss got the 'urge'.

It didn't have to be this way, of course...

...When she graduated, jobs were harder to come by than she ever imagined. Dancy Family Law was the only practice to give her a call back, and the pay was enough to help her struggling parents after her father lost his job. Getting this job was a godsend, for them at least.

Amy, the office manager was in charge of screening new employees , and they hit it off right away. Wendy like Amy's cool demeanor and quiet professionalism. She dressed attractively without being provocative, and she spoke carefully, in a caring, motherly tone even though she was only a few years older than Wendy herself.

You have to dress professionally, be adaptable, and work long hours sometimes, she warned the young graduate. I won't tolerate any clerical mistakes. That could cost our clients money, or get us sued, as I'm sure you know.

Wendy nodded her head vigorously. In class, there were umpteen or more examples presented of small deadlines missed or misspelled words that cost firms and clients small fortunes.

We specialize in divorce and custody cases, obviously, Amy continued, but a typical case can involve business, real estate, pension and insurance documents and legal issues as well as custody, of course. Mr. Dancy is young, but he is the best attorney in the county. Would you like to meet him?

Of course, Wendy replied naturally. She'd heard about him already from her brother, who had just gone through a tough divorce and swore by him.

Best lawyer in town, by far, Hank told her. Of course, it's a shame what happened to Leslie. She asked what he meant by that, and Hank told her all about Leslie Brown, a pretty secretary he used to go to school with who worked for Dancy for three years before taking her own life. Sleeping pills I think, he told her.

On the way into her future boss's office Wendy noticed Leslie's picture by the door. She was indeed pretty, with brunette hair and alluring brown eyes. There was a plaque by the picture, inside a glass display case. In loving memory of: Leslie Brown, followed by her date of birth and passing. Sadly, it noted she left two children behind. Wendy suppressed a shudder, knowing suicide could happen to anyone. It didn't affect her desire for a job in any way, though, since she needed one so desperately.

Here's the paralegal applicant , Mr. Dancy, Amy said as she swung the office door open and ushered Wendy into the office. This is Wendy Page, she has an Associate's from State, a Certificate from Community, and a host of references and testimonials. Her resume is on your desk, sir.

Thank you, Amy. Dancy was yukking it up on the phone, feet propped up on his desk, coat casually tossed over the back of his recliner when they entered. Gotta go, Joe.

He hung up, stood and put his coat on as Amy nudged her forward and then disappeared, closing the door behind her as she went. She was alone with him now, taking a seat in front of his desk, and her first thought was lost in frazzle of utter amazement. Wendy had a hard time taking her eyes off him, he was so young and handsome.

Dark, sexy eyes, tanned face, wavy black hair, and a firm jaw, all with a dashing, disarming smile. He shrugged into his coat, the muscles in his thick shoulders and arms rippling under his dress shirt, and asked her if she needed anything before taking his seat.

Let's see...where is that resume...? His desk was a mess, but Wendy spotted her resume right away, under a pile of legal papers and post-it notes in the In tray on one corner of his desk, recognizing it by the pink paper clip she'd seen Amy use to attach the resume to her application earlier. She leaned over and plucked it free, then handed it to him.

Nice...wow, you are already making my life easier! Wendy beamed at the compliment. He flashed that winning smile again, and her heart melted. How could he be so young she wondered, and already a successful attorney? Sadly she noted he had a wedding band on, but that didn't mean she couldn't look and dream.

You can call me Mark, by the way. I like to keep things casual when no one is in the office.

She agreed, and then he peppered her with questions about her studies, her age, her computer skills and legal interests. Why did you become a paralegal? She had to lie about that one. Wendy wanted to tell him her father lost his job at the mill, and so she had to cut short her education, come home and take what she could get. That was the truth. Instead she claimed to be inspired watching old re-runs of Law and Order and CSI. Law and the legal profession fascinated her. He laughed out loud and his dark eyes twinkled. Wendy was sure he knew it was bullshit.

What did you really want to do, Wendy?

I wanted to be a Vet, she admitted. I love working with animals. I spent every summer volunteering at the County Animal Shelter in Avondale during high school. That admission led to a host of other questions, resulting in Wendy confessing the entire sad story of her aborted education. The interview was going really well, and Mark seemed really interested in her personally. He nodded and smiled, indulging her as she vented about her bad fortune, but making sure he knew she was determined to be a success at whatever profession life and the Good Lord put on her plate.

Okay, he finally said, rising to his feet. He checked his watch, I'm almost out of time here, but we are very interested in hiring you. Amy likes you, or you wouldn't be in my office, right now. We just lost one valuable secretary in a tragic incident a few months ago, and...he choked back a tear...you would be taking her place...we really need a good one.

I'll do my best, I promise...um, if you do hire me, that is, she added, not wanting to sound too sure of herself.

Great. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and guided her to the door, using his free hand to open it for her. Thank you, Wendy.

Thank you, sir.

Then it happened.

Wendy took one step and choked off a surprised gasp as the warm, strong hand on her shoulder slid all the way down her back, past her narrow waist, over her bottom, and grabbed fistful of her right ass cheek, giving it a quick squeeze and even a jiggle before letting go, right in front of Amy who was coming over to escort her out of the lobby. Wendy was sure Amy saw the entire thing, which was the only reason she didn't turn around and slap Mark on the spot. Her normally pale, white face turned deep crimson as her head snapped around to give Mark an angry, shocked look. He looked back at her with a smile, as if nothing happened. But the corners of his lips were upturned slightly, in a suddenly cocky, what are you going to do about it look.

Driving home, she swore she wouldn't work for him if it was the last job on Earth. But Wendy was also fighting off a weird sensation. No one had ever so blatantly made a crude pass at her before. She was an attractive woman, petite with blonde hair and nice breasts. So she was used to being looked at, or even whistled at. But she couldn't remember anyone just grabbing a handful of her ass like he did before.

It was demeaning, and crude and barbaric! Was he really an attorney or an imposter? He could be sued. And should be, of course. But she wasn't going to be the one, Wendy already knew. It was just an ass grab, and it happened to women all the time. Besides, the only witness was Amy, who worked for him, and wouldn't be likely to want to bite the hand that fed her. Amy was very attractive herself, with long legs and a full, womanly figure. Maybe she'd been sexually harassed herself? If she ever saw Amy again, Wendy vowed she would ask her about it. But that was all for another day. In the meantime, she still had to find a job, and fast. Sadly, she crossed Dancy Family Law off her list of prospective employers and made plans to apply elsewhere.

That night, she found she couldn't get the sensation of having a strange man grab her ass out of her mind. She could almost still feel it there, his hand, heavy and strong, warm and demanding on her bottom. His handsome, arrogant face leered at her, his lips upturned. For some strange, unearthly reason she was horny and couldn't sleep. She tried wine, Ambien and even counting sheep all to no avail. Finally, she was forced to retrieve the trusty dildo that got her through college from the bathroom attached to her room, and take care of herself that way.

Trying her best to stifle her own moans, and keep the old bed from creaking too loudly, she worked the six inch dildo into her vagina, which was wet and had been all day since leaving his office. On the other side of the wall by her bed, her parents slept quietly. Wendy bit her knuckles when she came, then killed the light and fell into a deep sleep.

Her parents still owed thousands on their mortgage. Between making calls and going for interviews, Wendy couldn't help but hear them discussing their predicament. Plus, they had two car payments and insurance to maintain. Hank, who worked as a Sheriff's deputy, and had three kids, didn't make enough to help them much, so they were counting on Wendy to get them through, a fact that pained her father greatly. She was guilt ridden, knowing they'd obtained a second mortgage just to get her into college, and now here she was unable to help them when they needed it the most. Her father's unemployment was running out soon, and things would get even tighter than they were already.

We have to convince them to sell those cars, Hank told her on the phone one night as she lay on her bed, quietly discussing the situation with her brother. His truck payment alone is over six hundred a month.

Wendy gritted her teeth. That was a huge sum, and it hurt her feelings just to hear it. Of course, her parents bought those vehicles when he was making close to six figures. Being laid off and then seeing the plant shut down wasn't in their plans.

You're right, Hank, Wendy muttered in the dark. Even if I get a job, I don't want to work just to pay for a truck he can't afford anymore.

How's the job hunt going? Hank changed the subject.

Not good, she admitted. It had been two weeks since the interview with Mark Dancy. Amy called her back for a second interview, but Wendy never replied. Unfortunately, they were the only office that showed any interest. Dancy is the only one who called back.

Wow, he's interested?

Yes, too interested, if you know what I mean. Wendy let that sentence die a quiet death. Hank paused, turning the cryptic quote over in his mind before continuing.

Really? His wife is gorgeous...are you sure about that?

His answer infuriated her. Wendy said a hasty goodbye and flipped her phone closed. Really? Yes, really, Hank. He grabbed my ass right in his office, and gave it a good squeeze and jiggle! She wondered how he would react if she laid it out just like that. It was the truth after all. Mark's laughing, arrogant face appeared before her, then she felt her ass cheek get warm under her panties, as if his lecherous, intrusive hand was still there, and a few minutes later she was pushing her pajama's down, sliding her favorite dildo under her lacy panties, and furiously getting herself off again. When she was finished, she lay panting, biting her knuckles, ashamed of herself for getting excited every time Mark's name came up, or whenever she thought about him grabbing her ass again. What the hell is wrong with me?

A week later Wendy gave Amy a call.

Oh, Wendy, it's nice to hear from you again. Have you reconsidered? Mr. Dancy is still interested in interviewing you again.

Um...I'm not sure, Wendy answered. Is the position still open?

Yes, it is. He doesn't want to fill it until we heard back from you, dear. Should I schedule you for an interview? How's Friday at four sound?

Wendy said yes, before she lost her nerve, then quickly hung up.

What the hell am I doing? she asked herself as she fixed her hair in the bathroom. Friday was several days away, she reasoned. I can always cancel. I can also punch him in the throat, too. At the very least, she could take the job but lay some ground rules. Maybe he was just used to getting his way with women and needed a boundary reminder. The bottom line was Wendy seriously needed a job, and not just to help take care of her parents until her father found work. Eventually she wanted to get out on her own, in her own place, and go back to school. I have to take this job, and just be very blunt about his roaming hands, she decided.

For the next two days she worked at the shelter, and saw Hank on a few occasions. The Sheriff's office brought stray and abandoned animals to the shelter on a regular basis. Outside the shelter, Hank smoked, talked about his ex, his three kids, and their parents, naturally.

I finally got him to agree to put his truck on Craigslist, he told her.

Thank God! Wendy said with great relief, waving her hands to beat back a wave of puffy second hand smoke coming in her direction. If he ever gets another job, he won't make close to what he was used to.

He knew that already, Wendy, Hank told her. It sounded like a reprimand, but Wendy wasn't sure why. Give them time to accept it.

That's easy for you to say, Wendy wanted to shoot back. His life wasn't on hold because of their poor decisions. No one told them to buy one of the biggest houses in town. Or take on two car payments. Instead, she just agreed, and thanked him for at least getting their father to start facing reality.

That Friday, Wendy showed up on time, dressed appropriately in a gray business suit with a snug but unrevealing top, and a skirt that hung just below her knees. She was unbelievably nervous, expecting Dancy to make another pass at her, of course. What else would he do? He struck her as a habitual offender.

Thanks for coming in again, Wendy, Mark told her after Amy showed her in once more. He shook her hand, offered her a seat, and asked if she wanted anything to drink.

No, she answered cooly.

Well, you look great. Wendy groaned inwardly, trying to keep the smile she had plastered to her face intact. Was he really going to start in on her again so soon? What happened before? It took you awhile to...

You know what happened, sir. Mark smiled. He set her paperwork down, folded his hands atop his desk and arched a dark eyebrow expectantly. You grabbed my ass. That's harrasment, and if you expect me to work for you, I need you to promise you won't do that ever again.

Okay. Hmmm. I dont know what to say, he began. But we do want to hi...

You can apologize for starters, she interjected. He held up one hand to stop her.

Do you want this job or not? I know you need it, Mark informed her smartly. Do you need it?

Yes, she admitted. B-but...It was his turn to cut her off.

In that case, you're hired. But I expect you to cut out this bullshit about me grabbing your ass, okay. That didn't happen, got it? It never happened. He looked and sounded angry. Suddenly his large office began to shrink in on her. Okay? Never happened. Let me hear you say it.

H-huh? Wendy's jaw dropped. Was he really denying it?

I want you to tell me it never happened. Right now. In this room, before you leave, Mrs. Page. Right now. Admit it. He leaned forward across his desk and jabbed one perfectly manicured finger at her. I've never harrassed you, right? Just say it. You have no proof, do you?

N-no, but...

Okay, then! Say it. It didn't happen.

Y-you cant be serio...

Say it! Say it, dammit! He gave his desk a little slap and Wendy almost leapt from her chair in fright. It was loud enough to echo inside his office, but probably not be heard in the lobby outside where Amy and Mrs. Carole were working diligently. Wendy felt like she was on the stand, and he was cross-examining her. Was this his way of seeing how she performed under pressure? She wanted to tell him to fuck off. Once again she noticed the upturned corner's of his thin lips, and the far away fire in his otherwise dark eyes.

Say it, Mrs. Page: no one harrassed me.

No one harrassed me, she repeated. Her jaw dropped. How did he make her do that? He smiled, but kept pushing.

And no one grabbed my ass, right?

Yes...I mean, er no...no one grabbed my ass.

That's better. He was grinning now, watching her fight back tears. She dabbed at the corner's of her blue eyes with the back of her sleeve, then her shoulders drooped as she hung her head, defeated. This wasn't at all how she expected this interview to go. He had a mean, satisfied look on his face, but her new Boss wasn't finished with her just yet. It was a Friday, and he was facing the unenviable fate of spending three painful days with his harridan wife. He checked his watch, decided he had time to have a bit more fun at the new girl's expense. Mark stood up, and came around the desk to stand directly behind her. She wasn't sobbing yet, but she was clearly confused and distraught.

You are so pretty, you know that? He massaged her thin shoulders, brushed her blonde hair away from her lily white neck then slipped his hands under her chin and started unbuttoning her shirt before pushing her bra down and away. She was too confused and beaten to resist. Looking down, he saw small, white breasts with sharp extended nipples sticking out. He gave them a pinch and Wendy couldn't help moaning. He stepped around to view his handiwork.

She was really lovely. Her small, perky white breasts poking out of her business suit and white dress blouse while she did her best to fight back fresh tears was so hot. But it needed an added touch.

My God, you are really hot! What are you crying for? he wanted to know.

I don't know, she sobbed. Inside, she felt confused and weak. Why was she even allowing this? At the same time, she admitted to herself part of her was enjoying it for some bizarre reason. It was undeniable and shameful, and thinking about the contradiction didn't help. It just made fresh tears well up.

Here, let me help you. Gently, he pulled one hand from her face, laid it in her lap out of the way, then took the other and balled it into a fist for her. She didnt fight or struggle one bit as he extended her thumb out, and moved it toward her ruby red lips. Here, this always helps my daughter calm down. You try it, dear.

Her lips parted obediently, automatically even, and in a moment she was sucking on her own thumb like a wayward toddler, with her blouse open, pinkish-white tits exposed, and tears streaming down her cheeks. He retreated behind his desk, pulled out his I-phone, engaged the camera app, placed it carefully on his desk, set it to record before leaning back in his seat and checking his watch.