The Beginning of the End Ch. 02

Sara took a deep swig of chilled water to wash away the taste of sweat and cum. Someone brought her a robe that she pulled around herself as the crew cleaned up and tore down the set.

"Nice work today," the director said. "Wild stuff."

He laughed at his own pun, and she gave him the middle finger before leaving for the makeshift changing room in the master bedroom. It was up a spiral staircase and down a hall lined with avant garde art and windows overlooking the pool.

They'd rented the mansion for the day and furnished it with appropriately fancy decor, or at least what their audience would think was fancy. The owner's furniture was pushed aside, off camera. People who owned mansions generally didn't like their belongings stained with bodily fluids.

"If Eddie cums in my eye one more time, I swear to god," Cherry complained as Sara walked into the room. She was sitting in front of a vanity, wiping smeared makeup off her face.

"He got me too," Sara said, half paying attention. She went straight for the bathroom and turned on the shower, not bothering to close the door as she threw her robe aside.

"I know that clown does it on purpose. He's-" She trailed off, turning to watch as Sara tested the water with a foot. "You in a hurry or something?"

"I need to catch Damian before he leaves work."

Cherry resumed her task. "You and your rich boy toy."

"He's not the toy." Satisfied with the water temperature, Sara opened the door and stepped in. "I am."

"You're a freak Sara," Cherry shouted over the sound of running water.

*****

"Mr. Sinclair is busy," Shirley protested. "You can't interrupt him!"

Damian's plain faced secretary had never liked her. Sara had long given up trying to win the girl over, and now elected to torment her instead. She leaned against the corner of Shirley's desk, where she could look down at her.

"You know, you might be pretty if you put some effort in." Shirley's glowering brought a smile to her lips. "I know what Mr. Sinclair likes. I can teach you if you ask nicely."

The secretary blushed deeply. "Some of us prefer not to sleep our way to the top."

"He doesn't like judgemental prudes," Sara picked up one of Shirley's desk toys, a small plastic model of a Yorkshire Terrier. "In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't," Shirley claimed, "and put that down."

Sara placed the model down near the corner of the desk, leaving one finger on it, and turned her attention back to Shirley. "I've seen the way you look at him. I don't mind sharing. He's had plenty of other partners."

"I am aware."

"He mentioned you the other day."

Shirley perked up at this. "R-really?"

"Nope." Sara flicked the model off the desk into the open space of the reception area. "I'm going inside."

She strolled past the fuming secretary, and through the doors to Damian's office where he sat behind his desk speaking to an underling in an ill-fitting gray suit. They both turned to look at her. The underling blinked, trying, and failing, to hide his lust. Damian scowled. His irritation lit a fire in her that she couldn't help but stoke.

She strutted toward the desk and took a seat in his lap, hoping to fluster him. The underling stared, mouth agape, but Damian didn't miss a beat. He wrapped one arm around her waist, but otherwise ignored her.

"Go on," Damian urged the underling, who closed his mouth and began to stammer.

"As I was, uh... As I said, the quarterly, um-"

"Ignore her," Damian said flatly. Behind the desk, out of view, his hand sank lower. He cupped her ass, squeezing a handful of flesh. She breathed deeply to avoid moaning. "She just wants attention."

The underling cleared his throat, and began again. "As I was saying, the quarterly projections aren't sufficient for the kind of work you're proposing. It will cut into profit margins-"

"You're missing the forest for the trees, Eli. This will cost us in the short term, but it guarantees long term success." Damian sounded exasperated.

"The board will-"

"The board can't see three feet in front of them." Damian was stroking her upper thigh beneath her skirt now, his touch tickled against her skin. Sara subtly reached down and began to rub Damian's manhood through his pants. "They oppose anything that affects earnings, even if it's better in the long term."

"Then what about layoffs? That would bolster earnings until-" Damian interrupted him with a sigh.

"No layoffs. I'm not going to bleed talent just to make a bunch of visionless old men happy."

"Mmmm," Sara hummed. Both men looked at her.

Damian's hand had slipped between her legs, and he'd brushed a thumb over her clit. She braced herself against his shoulder and did her best to regain her composure.

"Is there a problem?" Damian asked. It took the underling a moment to realize Damian was addressing him, and not her.

"No sir," he muttered.

Sara shifted her position and reached for Damian's zipper, but he stopped her by snatching her hand and placing it between her legs, holding it there until she caved and began to play with herself. God, she needed this man to leave so Damian could fuck her properly. Somehow, he was still perfectly composed.

"You can leave now," Sara dismissed the underling and gestured toward the door.

"Ignore her," Damian reiterated. "I'll deal with the board."

"Of course. I'll let product know."

After a few more topics of discussion the underling awkwardly made his exit, glancing backward at them when he reached the door. Sara waved, and chuckled when he hurriedly turned away.

Once he was gone, Damian wasted no time hoisting her up to place her sitting on his desk facing him.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," he said.

"Do what?" She spread her legs, and leaned backward, placing her palms on the desk behind her.

"Tease my employees." Damian stood and stepped between her legs, towering over her. "There are enough rumors about me as it is."

"Maybe I need to be punished."

Ignoring her taunt, he took hold of her waist and pulled her forward until her groin pressed against him. Sara could feel his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. She hooked her legs behind him and used the leverage to pull herself more firmly against it. The pressure sent a spike of pleasure through her.

"I assume you were rude to Shirley again?"

"I would never!" she protested, channeling innocence as she tilted her head up to look him in the eyes.

His answering glare sent chills down her spine and stirred up her insides.

Damian's eyes were like the winter sky. Faintly blue, so light they were almost white, and utterly cold. He leaned forward, until she could feel his words against her lips as he whispered, "I expect you to apologize to her when we're done."

"Yes, master." She leaned forward to steal a kiss, but he pulled away. She resisted the urge to chase him, to push herself up onto her fingertips to feel his lips against hers. God, she wanted him. But that could wait. She was here for a reason.

As if he could read her mind, he asked, "Why are you here?"

"Why haven't you called Talia?" He frowned, but she continued. "She was fun. I was looking forward to watching you break her." She began to grind against him. His grip on her waist tightened.

"I'm satisfied with you."

"You're not the kind of man who's ever satisfied." She pointedly looked around the office, furnished with luxurious, mid-century modern decor punctuated by various artifacts and awards for his accomplishments.

Despite the ascetic routine he was so fond of, Damian always wanted more. He was like a black hole, pulling everyone and everything into his orbit, until he swallowed them up. Sara had found herself caught in that pull nearly four years ago, and spent every day since, savoring her own gradual undoing.

Eventually he would grow bored and cast her aside, but until then she would serve him faithfully, seizing every chance she could to drag others into his orbit and watch them fall. This man was now the center of her universe. Her god. Her master.

"You should make her yours.," she suggested, " I know you want to, and she wants it too. Even if she doesn't realize it yet."

He moved a hand to her cheek, pressing his thumb against her lips. "I'm not going to debase myself by chasing after a married woman."

So he said. But there was a spark in his December eyes that betrayed his true feelings. Whatever he pretended, he took just as much pleasure as she did in watching his pets unravel and remold themselves to his liking.

"What if she offered?"

He shrugged. "She can make her own decisions."

Good enough. Let him keep his hands clean if he wanted, she would do the dirty work.

A month ago, when Phillip first began peppering her with timid questions online, cautiously investigating if she still shared his kink, she hadn't expected much to come of it. They hadn't spoken in years, and she assumed that like most men she'd known from high school, he'd recently discovered her career and wanted to take his shot.

When he'd instead asked about arranging a partner for his wife, she'd been surprised, but still intended to turn him down. She would never subject a friend's marriage to Damian's influence. Then Phillip had shown her a picture, and she'd reconsidered.

Talia was gorgeous.

Appearance alone didn't amount to much, but it was enough to intrigue her, and once Sara had met Talia in person she'd been nearly as eager as Phillip.

Talia had been nervous, and far too concerned with the opinions of others, but beneath it all Sara could see that she was a confident, prideful woman. Naturally commanding. Just like a certain someone she knew. Watching her cave to Damian's talents had been a delight.

Since then she'd developed something of an obsession with the woman. Stalking her social media, and fantasizing about their next encounter. Unfortunately, it looked like it was up to her to make sure that encounter happened.

Sara took hold of Damian's tie and used it like a rope, pulling herself up and kissing him fiercely. His hands slipped beneath her, effortlessly scooping her up until she was wrapped around him. He kissed back, pressing his tongue into her mouth while she unbuttoned his shirt. Once she was done, he placed her down, forcefully bent her over the desk, and lowered her panties to her knees. The cool air between her thighs sent a shiver through her.

She moaned at the sound of him unzipping behind her and began to sway her hips. Beckoning him. Powerful hands took hold of her wrists and pinned them to the small of her back. She gasped as his cock slid between her legs, skimming against her womanhood and sending a fresh wave of electric pleasure through her.

She squeezed her hands into fists and pressed her cheek into the cool surface of the desk. "Please," she begged.

Keeping her wrists pinned with one hand, Damian leaned over, pressing his weight onto her, until he could whisper in her ear. His other hand curled around her neck.

"Beg." he ordered.

"Please master," she whined, "I'm your pet. Your fucktoy. Fuck me. Use me." Sara could feel his erection throbbing against her. Her knees trembled, her pulse quickened, and her pussy ached with a desperate, needy heat. Her entire body yearned for him.

He repositioned, and inch by inch, his divine cock filled her. It brought with it a euphoric certainty. This is where she belonged. This was all that mattered.

Sara had once believed, as so many still did, that respectability was important. That pride and self worth were earned by living up to the expectations of others. Now she knew better. She'd cast off her shackles, and become a creature of selfish passion. Pure. Free.

Damian began to move, fucking her slowly. Each time he buried his cock inside her, her world contracted. Shrinking to nothing. All that mattered was him. The pleasure he brought.

Her knees gave out as he picked up speed, so he let her wrists go to lift one leg up until she was held in place only by his arm hooked beneath her thigh, and her neck, still pinned against the desk.

She gasped ragged, desperate breaths. Her toes curled and uncurled as he reached new depths. All thoughts were driven from her mind as he took her. All except for one.

That soon, Talia would be just like her. And if Phillip came along for the ride? that just meant one more pet to play with.

*****

"Talia?"

Mitchell's response to every question was to defer to her. Never mind that he was her boss. It had already happened enough times in this meeting that Carol, the product head, no longer bothered to look at him when she asked them.

Talia held her frustration in check, careful to answer in a way that was deferential. "I think that's doable, but setting the deadline at three sprints seems a bit aggressive. If we don't want to overwork the team then I think four is safer. Right, Mitchell?"

"Hmm?" Yeah, I think that's good," he mumbled before declaring, "Let's make it four."

"It's decided then. Thanks Mitchell. Talia." Carol nodded to each of them, giving Talia a sympathetic smile.

Carol shut her laptop, and they all stood. Talia left before Mitchell could ask for a summary. She would ticket the work herself. He could check it then.

As she marched back to the engineering department as quickly as her pencil skirt would allow, her mind began to wander. It did that a lot the past few weeks. Memories of that bizarre and unsettling evening seemed to plague her whenever she had a spare moment. Especially if that moment was in the wake of a frustrating interaction, all too common in her workplace.

It was like her mind was needling her, reminding her what it had felt like to just let go. She wished it would stop. Her job wasn't the sort of place where she could speak her mind. Not without making enemies. No, it was better to play the politics game.

Carol, at least, knew who was really making decisions for her team. Eventually word would reach the other executives and Talia would be promoted to dev lead, making her status as engineering's "team mom" official. Perhaps her subordinates would even drop the nickname.

A din of voices echoing down the hallway pulled her from her thoughts.

"No way!" one of them shouted.

Talia found her team crowded around the frosted glass wall of their office peeking through a narrow band midway up the wall where the glass was fully transparent, into the lobby.

Children, all of them.

They continued chattering, individual voices growing clearer as she approached.

"She's so hot."

"Why do you think she's here?"

"Go ask her."

"What? No way!"

Talia cleared her throat and they turned and moved aside, looking guilty and attempting to act composed. A bit curious herself, Talia stepped forward to take a look, and felt the world go still.

In the lobby, leaning against the front desk and having an animated conversation with the clerk, was Sara.

She wore a pair of oversized sunglasses pushed up above her forehead. Her hair was pulled back, but her blonde streak was left loose to dangle down the side of her face. It bounced as she laughed at something the receptionist said.

A leather crop jacket hugged her petite frame, emphasizing her slender waist, and she wore dark denim shorts over fishnet stockings that showed off her tattooed legs. She stood on one high heeled boot, tapping the pointed toe of the other against the marble floor.

Before Talia could gather her wits a high pitched voice from behind called her name. "Talia."

The entire team turned to face their office receptionist. Embarrassment surged through her at being caught amongst a pack of leering boys, like some peeping tom.

"Visitor for you," the receptionist said dryly.

Her team erupted.

"No fucking way." a junior dev said.

"This is the best day of my life."

"Mike is going to be so pissed he took the day off."

"No fucking way." the junior reiterated.

"How do you know Sara Wilde?!" one of them asked.

They all fell silent, waiting for her answer. That wasn't the last name Phillip had given her. A stage name then? "She's... a friend of my husband's," Talia ventured.

She turned away and began making her way to the door. They followed, all speaking at once.

"You know she's a porn star, right?" Yes, she thought to herself, she did.

"Have you seen how flexible she is?" Yes... she had.

"I heard she has no gag reflex." Possibly correct.

"Introduce me!"

"Are you sure he's not fucking her?"

Talia whirled on them and they shrank back.

"Yes," she said. "I know what her job is. No, I'm not introducing anyone. And Phillip isn't sleeping with her. Now get back to work."

They grumbled, but shuffled back to their desks. A small pang of guilt lingered. No, Phillip hadn't been the one to cheat with Sara.

Why was that maddening woman here? Talia had left that night behind her. They both had.

Things with Phillip were better than ever. His weird fetish hadn't reared its ugly head, and he'd been working hard to live up to her expectations. Why did Sara have to show up now and risk putting all of that into jeopardy?

Talia snatched up her keycard from her desk and marched toward the lobby, projecting confidence and hostility. One way to find out.

*****

"Talia!" Sara lit up, and waved energetically as she approached. The motion caused her shirt to lift, revealing her flat stomach. As usual, everything Sara did was somehow seductive.

"What do you want?" Talia asked. "This is where I work."

"I'm aware. I was in the area and wanted to see if you'd like to grab a drink afterwards."

"No. I need to work late tonight," Talia said plainly. It was true. Those tickets wouldn't write themselves, and she still had her own work to finish up.

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"We're not friends." Talia wasn't interested in dancing around the truth. With this woman, at least, she could be honest. Sara's opinion of her was the last thing she cared about.

"Ouch, but we were so close the other night." Sara reached into her jacket, and withdrew her phone. After a moment of swiping she flipped it around, and Talia's heart stopped in her chest.

On the screen was a compromising photo, but not the one she'd expected. Her and Sara knelt together, kissing, with Damian's penis sandwiched between their lips. Her eyes were closed, and Sara had a mischievous grin plastered across her face.

Talia lunged forward, but Sara was too fast. She danced just out of reach, hiding the phone behind her back. The maneuver brought them closer. Sara tilted her head back and looked up at her with the same face she wore in the photo.

"Delete that," Talia leaned forward and hissed into Sara's face. "Now!"

"Careful," Sara said, and pointedly glanced to the side.

Talia followed her gaze to see a pack of eyes watching them through the glass. They scattered when they noticed her looking.

She took a step back and composed herself. This was her workplace, the last thing she needed was to stir up rumors about herself and Sara 'Wilde.'

"You're so good at that," Sara said.

"Good at what?" she asked.

"Pretending to be someone you're not."

What was this woman on about? It didn't matter. "Just tell me what you want, Sara."

"I told you, I just want to go for a night out. A double date. You and Phillip, me and Damian. Then I'll delete the photo."

"You're blackmailing me," Talia said.

"Yep."

Talia hadn't expected her to admit it so easily.

Sara was probably lying. People who stooped to blackmail didn't give up their leverage so easily, but the date might provide an opportunity to take matters into her own hands and delete the evidence herself. Besides, it wasn't like she had much choice. If Phillip saw that photo it would be a disaster.