tagBDSMMagic Man

Magic Man


A major thank you to Molly Cactus for her inspiration and her help in completing this story. She is the best!

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.


Cold, late night so long ago
When I was not so strong you know
A pretty man came to me
Never seen eyes so blue
You know, I could not run away it seemed
We'd seen each other in a dream
Seemed like he knew me, he looked right through me, yeah
"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile
"You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile
But try to understand, try to understand
Try, try, try to understand, I'm a magic man"
Heart, "Magic Man," from the album "Dreamboat Annie"

Chapter One

"Magic," one whispered.

"Mystical," another chimed in.

"Cathartic," a third murmured.

Who was this mystery man? He'd joined Adrienne's department three months ago but she'd only spent a few minutes with him. He seemed like a regular guy to her, medium height and build, dark brown hair and blue eyes, and didn't seem to have an over-sized personality.

Adrienne was normally on the road and didn't have time to associate in the lunchroom with members of her department but she had a couple of meetings cancel and took a long break with them. Of course the conversation among the girls eventually turned (devolved?) to relationships, and the three women Adrienne was talking to all mentioned being bedded by Garrett.

And they all had the same story. It started as an innocent first date, and somehow by the end of the evening they were asking -- no begging -- for him to use them in any way that he pleased. And all of them said they wouldn't hesitate to let him use them again in any way that he wished. They didn't give her more details (he forbade it) but assured her that they were willing participants.

Adrienne shrugged it off as idle talk. No one was that sexually persuasive. Of that she was sure.

Self-confidence had always been her strong suit. It served her well in her ascendancy through business school and in the world of finance dominated by men. She was the youngest female executive in the company, and at 35 was one of the youngest CFO's in her company's industry. Of course there was collateral damage on her rapid ascent to the top. There always was. Unfortunately, in her case it was her marriage. She got married to her high school sweetheart and the turbulence of her career eventually shook him loose. Too many long business trips, late nights at the office, and obligatory social engagements eventually wore him down. Jeremy and Adrienne parted amicably, and the last she knew of him, he'd gotten engaged to a teacher in their hometown and appeared to be quite happy. Adrienne thought he was a good soul and deserved to be happy.

In Adrienne's case, happiness wasn't one of the adjectives to describe her life, and in particular her love life. Even though her physical appearance was not rough on the eyes, to the contrary, she was able to turn heads, the same reasons that chased Jeremy away also kept all potential suitors at arm's length. She hadn't gotten past the first date in the two years that had passed since Jeremy and she parted ways.

The salacious lunchtime shop talk did pique Adrienne's curiosity. She went to HR to review Garrett's file. She justified the probing, telling herself that he was a member of her department and that she should make an effort to know him better. Deep down, though, the talk of his sexual prowess was too tempting for a woman that hadn't had sex in months. The HR manager Christine was eager to accommodate Adrienne's request for his file as her visits to her department were few and far between, and she relished any opportunity to kiss up to a member of upper management. Christine confirmed that she'd handled the intake interview but didn't have more to add other than her recollection that he had a solid resume and a pleasing demeanor.

The file wasn't any more revealing; Garrett D'Arnaud: attended a well-known business school, became a CPA and spent several years at a Big Four accounting firm. Specialized in software integration project management. Single, 35, and a sailor and car enthusiast. The file photo wasn't much help either. It was a head shot taken at a prior job. He was a handsome man with wavy brown hair, piercing blue eyes and a cute dimple on his chin. But not movie star good looking and certainly not the kind of man that would've had Adrienne dropping her panties on the first date.

Adrienne went back to her office and re-immersed herself in the maelstrom that was her life. Garrett was forgotten by her second phone call, and with the late night announcement of a major acquisition by her company of a competitor, a distant, then forgotten, memory. It was off to New York City for a month, holed up with investment bankers, lawyers and accountants, working out the details of the acquisition (it was touted as a 'merger of equals' but we know that's never true. The bigger company is always more 'equal' than the smaller company).

After a month of windowless conference rooms and late night room service meals she was ready to go home. The six hour flight to San Francisco somehow became eight, as there was the usual two hour delay out of Newark (her least favorite airport). On the final approach to SFO she looked out the window to see the twinkling lights of the Bay Bridge and the fog rolling in from the ocean, slowly enveloping the downtown skyscrapers. She was home.

Adrienne's needs were modest. It was a sinful pleasure just for her to sleep in her own bed, and it took a force of will to get out of it the next morning so she could make her first appearance in the office in a month. She dreaded opening her office door and seeing the clutter of correspondence, memos and assorted junk mail that undoubtedly littered her clean desk. She looked at herself in the mirror, hoping to see a fresh face, but instead seeing her limp blonde hair and shadows under her eyes, the ravages of a month of no exercise and poor eating. She needed a vacation -- desperately.

Instead of a vacation, she donned a silk blouse, black pencil skirt and black pumps, and went back to the office. She parked in her assigned spot in the garage and walked to the front lobby. Frank, the lobby guard, waved her through to the bank of elevators that serviced her firm's floors. She slid into an elevator with ten other people and made the silent ascent to her floor, with everyone (except her) checking e-mails and texts on their phones. She thought to herself that she could've dropped dead of a heart attack on the elevator and no one would've noticed. The elevator finally reached her floor and the receptionist spotted her before she'd even exited the elevator cab.

"Adrienne!" she cried, as she waved.

Adrienne waved to her and then lowered her head and focused on the path ahead of her. A detour to her receptionist's desk was a ten minute sentence to purgatory. She had nothing in common with Kathy, the receptionist, and knew she'd be facing a shit storm swirling around her desk.

She plodded past the rows and rows of cubicles to the back wall that housed the enclosed offices for the executives. Her assistant, Greta, was standing at her desk with a cup of hot coffee in her hand. She held it out in front of herself and the tall blonde gratefully took it, taking the first sip before she said hello.

"Not bad, Adrienne. It's 9:02, so only two minutes late after a month away from the office," noted her red headed assistant.

With the hot coffee sliding down and warming her insides Adrienne felt a semblance of humanity coming back to her. "Hey, Greta. What's new?"

She gave her boss a screwed up look. "You obviously didn't check your phone on the way to work, did you?"

"Tell me."

"Dave Gregory resigned yesterday and was walked out of the building."

"Fuck." Adrienne meant to shout "God Damn It" at the top of her lungs but her coffee hadn't yet kicked in.

"Rob Sanderson has already been by your office twice looking for you."

Rob was the CEO of the company.

"Double fuck."

"You need to go to his office right away."

So much for any semblance of sanity. The now embattled CFO threw her briefcase and purse in her office (where she saw a large pile of papers on her desk) and hoofed it down the hallway to Rob's office. Fortunately, the new silk blouse, skirt, and pumps that she picked out right before she left her house looked presentable. She'd also used enough foundation to cover those nasty shadows under her eyes.

Adrienne knocked on Rob's door and walked in before he had a chance to invite her.

Rob was hanging up his phone and swiveling his chair to face her.

"Adrienne, well done on the Mattson merger. Looks like it should close 3Q of next year if we get FTC and DOJ approval." He then focused on her new outfit and the cleavage peeking out of her blouse. "Typical Rob," she thought, "on his third wife and still a pussy hound." He jerked his head up when he realized she was watching him leer at her tits.

"I've been looking for you. You probably heard Dave Gregory was walked out of the office yesterday."


"Joined a competitor. Fucker. But got a 30% bump and options. I couldn't match it. He probably would've stayed if I did."

"So now what are we going to do about the database software integration project that Dave was managing?"

"That was my question to you, Adrienne."

A dim light bulb lit in her head. Yes... it was on the tip of her tongue,,,

"Yes?" said Rob after an overly long pregnant pause.

" . . . . . Garrett D'Arnaud," blurted Adrienne as the name popped into her head.


"Garrett D'Arnaud. We hired him about six months ago. I was going through his personnel file and noticed he had experience with software integration."


"I'm on it. I'll talk to him today and I'll let you know if he can handle it." Rob had already swiveled around to make his next phone call. Just for laughs, Adrienne pulled down on her blouse and the cup of her bra, exposing her ample breast to his back. She figured he'd always wanted to see her tits. She laughed to herself and thought, "Too bad he didn't have the courtesy to say 'thank you' so he could've enjoyed the view."

The lunchroom chit chat also floated to the surface of her consciousness. Garrett... the sex God... or something like that. Adrienne yelled to Greta on her way into her office, "Get Garrett D'Arnaud into my office, stat."

She sat at her desk for the first time in a month. Her coffee was now cold. Greta came into her office with a fresh hot cup. "Bless you Greta. You're a saint. I owe you." Adrienne knew that Greta always had her back.

"You know you do," Greta said with confidence as she looked over her shoulder on the way out of Adrienne's office. Greta was a little raunchy minx with her short skirt, high heels and bubble butt. Adrienne thought that if she was bi (like Greta) she'd have been all over Greta's voluptuous body.

Not two minutes later, there was a knock on Adrienne's door, even though it was open. It was Garrett.

"Come in."

"Reporting for duty, Ma'am."

"It's Adrienne. No need for formalities here. Have a seat."

Garrett looked just like his file photo. Rugged and handsome with that cute dimple on his chin. "Damn him," thought Greta. His good looks were distracting. He was studying Adrienne, but not in the way that Rob did. Rob's glare was lust driven. Garrett was studying her like he would a painting in a museum. Thoughtful. And he didn't try to stare down her blouse.

All of this was not lost on Adrienne. She was surprised that a man with such a reputation that preceded him wouldn't be much more forward in his demeanor. Instead, he acted like a perfect gentleman.

"The software implementation..." Adrienne began before she was interrupted.

"I figured as much. When I heard Dave Gregory had been walked out, I knew it was a matter of time before you reached out to me."

"So can you handle..."

"Of course I can. I've done at least a dozen implementations. I'm familiar with this software and the documentation. Just give me the names of the folks on Dave's team and I'll report back to you tomorrow afternoon."

"That's a relief. I can't tell you..."

"But I'm sure there's more details that you'll have to share with me over dinner. That's what you were going to tell me, right?"

The purported boss had to catch her breath. "Did he just invite himself to dinner?" she asked herself. Adrienne was grateful that he took control of the software implementation and did so in a manner that was confidence inspiring. It was a huge load off her shoulders. She didn't have any plans for dinner and he was cute, but no fishing in the company pond was her rule, so it'd have to be all business. She told herself that she could handle that.

"Sure. I'll have Greta make a reservation..."

"Don't worry about it. I've already made a reservation. Meet in the lobby at 7 p.m.?"

"Well, that was presumptuous," she thought. "How did he know this before he met with me?" Well, in any event she didn't care where they went. The manner in which he controlled the tempo of their conversation and the dinner invitation was highly unusual, yet for some reason stirred something within her. Was this what the women were talking about? She could see that he was controlling, but did that mean she was going to submit to him? Of course not. She was his boss, not his slave.

Garrett wandered back to his office with his hands in his pockets, whistling softly. That interaction with his boss couldn't have gone better.

Chapter Two

The rest of the day flew by. Adrienne was putting out one fire after another. When she got a free moment she looked at her watch. "Shit," she exclaimed as she checked the time. It was 7:10. The flustered blonde threw her papers into her briefcase, took a quick look in her mirror at her hair and makeup, and grabbed her purse. She ran into the lobby, breathless.

"I'm so sorry. The time just seemed to get away from me and..."

"And you won't do it again, will you?" Garrett said in an even, though firm, tone of voice.

He'd caught Adrienne off guard once again. "Uhh, right. I won't do it again." She was wondering anew. Who was the boss in this relationship?

The couple went out into the night. The fog had already rolled in. It was bone chilling cold -- a wet cold. It reminded Adrienne of one of her favorite quotations (attributed to Mark Twain): "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." Adrienne shivered, both from the cold and the uneasiness that somehow she'd lost control of this relationship from the get go. Garrett, on the other hand, was nonplussed by the cold, and Adrienne's pliability gave him a warm glow inside.

Adrienne and Garrett took an Uber to a South of Market address in a decidedly industrial neighborhood. Instead of a restaurant, they were dropped off at a nondescript warehouse. Garrett approached the main door and looked up at the security camera. Moments later the door buzzed and he pulled it open.

They entered, and stepped into a surprisingly opulent reception area. There was a well-dressed woman manning the reception desk.

"Good evening Mr. D'Arnaud, and welcome back to the Club," said the receptionist in a tone of voice indicating familiarity.

"It's good to see you again, April. Has Nancy recovered fully?"

"Why, thank you for asking, Mr. D'Arnaud. Yes, Nancy got out of her cast last week and is walking normally."

"That's good to hear April. Is our table ready?"

"Of course, just as you ordered. And I presume this is your guest, Adrienne Margolis?

Garrett nodded.

"Welcome Ms. Margolis. Marcelle will be by momentarily to seat you. Would you like to sit while you wait for Marcelle?"

"No, that's not necessary," Garret answered. "I'm sure Marcelle will be here momentarily." An attendant deferentially took their coats, and hung them in a small cloakroom.

They waited quietly. Adrienne studied the unfamiliar surroundings. The waiting area was more fitting for a fine hotel rather than an industrial building. It boasted hardwood floors, oriental rugs, richly upholstered furniture and a bar with many recognizable single malt scotches and bourbons.

Adrienne's careful study of her surroundings was interrupted by the opening of the door behind the reception desk. A man in a tuxedo held the door open. Garrett motioned for Adrienne to enter first. Adrienne found herself in a richly appointed hallway. They were escorted to the first door on the left. Marcelle waved the couple inside. Adrienne was astonished to see that instead of a normal-looking restaurant, the room had only a single table and two chairs. The table was covered with a snowy white tablecloth, a small candle, a vase with a single red rose and two place settings of fine china.

Garrett seated Adrienne and then himself. Shortly thereafter, a uniformed waiter appeared through a side door and served a soup course.

With a jesting tone of voice, Adrienne asked, "Do you dine here often?"

Garrett focused on Adrienne with a steady gaze. "Only with special people."

The blonde let that pass without comment. She steered the conversation to business, specifically the software integration project, and the members of the team that he'd be leading. Over their main course, and dessert, he explained what his plan of action would be, and what aspects he'd assign to each team member. Adrienne was impressed with not only his knowledge, but also his ability to dissect the project's needs into manageable pieces, and delegate each piece to the person best suited to handle it. Garrett was supremely confident in his ability to manage the project, and that confidence level soon permeated Adrienne's thinking as well.

Even though the words coming out of his mouth were focused on the business at hand, Garrett's eyes conveyed something quite different. He was still gazing at the comely blonde like some work of art. Yes, his eyes occasionally regarded her body, but they were never fixated there. He spent most of the time visually drinking in the sight of her face, perhaps noticing where her eyes were looking, or the body language conveyed by her subtle facial expressions.

As the meal was drawing to a close, Adrienne found a question bubbling up inside her that demanded to be uttered. She wasn't sure why she had to ask it, because his manner had been impeccable -- focused and businesslike, never straying from the conversational course that she'd set.

The words were out of her mouth before she could censor herself. "Garrett, I'd like to ask something. Some of the women in the office seem rather smitten with you. Do you have any inkling why that would be?"

He smiled a mysterious smile. "There's a submissive side in everyone. I just help bring it out."

He paused to let this sink in. There was an awkward silence as Adrienne took stock of herself. Did she have a submissive side? She didn't think so. Every social and business interaction had her wanting to be in control. But did she really want this? Her drive to succeed had dictated who she was. It'd ruined her marriage. It chased away anyone who wanted to be close to her.

He'd invited himself to dinner with her, even picking the place and making the reservations ahead of time. He'd knocked her off balance by making her promise she'd not be late for him in the future. His plan to control the project was now close to the way she viewed it herself. She loved the control in the business world. It felt good to hold onto the reins and feel the power of her position. But that same level of control was, for her, her downfall as well. Perhaps it really wasn't meant for her to be in control of her personal relationships. Her success in controlling personal relationships was a big fat zero.

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