The Executive

"Yes, you've been quite good today. My hard worker. You deserve a treat. And you've been quite delicious for me to watch, these last few days." I cracked the door and led him inside.

"Th-thank you, Ma'am!"

"Don't thank me yet. You still have to prove you've earned it. I expect you to stay perfectly still until I'm ready for you."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Here. Face the wall -- no, like this. Hands behind your head. There you go." I slipped my sopping panties from under my skirt and stuffed them in his mouth. He grunted, inhaling sharply. "No peeking. I'm sure you'll figure it all out shortly."

My bedroom is adorned with a statue of a Greek god, frozen with back arched into a permanent rictus scream. At least, that's what it looks like at first glance. On second glance, one notices the very live and purple erection protruding from the marble. One of the largest erections in the world, after his training. Well, and do I deserve any less?

As the liquid marble had heated and hardened around Alessandro, his eyes had been filled with doubt and fear. But now, a year later, his massive cock was still erect for me. It had to be, as he was blind to when I needed him.

I kissed the open cavern of his mouth. He wailed softly.

"Quiet, dear. We have a guest." I could never tell if he could hear me or not, in there. Nor did I really care. I needed him for one task only, and he was all too happy to oblige. Good. My clit had been throbbing for days.

Slave boy pressed against the wall, listening intently, not understanding.

Hungrily, I slid down Alessandro's belly and spent some time slipping myself over the bulb of his glans. I could only fit about half of the full shaft inside me, of course. Any further would mean impalement. We moaned together as I stretched around him.

Slave boy whimpered.

I could feel every thump of the shaft's pulse spreading my vaginal walls. My juices gushed wildly to compensate, and soon I was sliding over him, using his arms as leverage.

My throat rattled as I worked myself up and down his length, taking out my frustrations. Alessandro wheezed in response, stiff with desire. Slave boy, I'm sure, was dripping a line of precum down my wall, listening to our sex, unable to watch.

Of course, Alessandro's size alone is enough to make me cum, even without the long steamy days of ordering boys around. My little appetizers. I thrust against my main course.

With a final shove, I pressed Alessandro's head deep, and climaxed around him. He responded, seeming to double in size, thumping in place like a piston. I squirmed, affixed in place, and felt the pressure inside me grow uncomfortable as he pumped more and more load with no room for it to escape.

I cried out, spasm after spasm tightening around his impervious rigidity. Our orgasms fed each other in an unbroken loop.

God, I love Alessandro. He's gotten so good at timing.

It was several minutes before he slumped enough to for me to slide free, slopping his upturned hips with ooze.

I climbed onto my tangled sheets. "Now, boy. Cleanup on Aisle One."

He crawled to me, casting his eyes around in confusion. I grasped his hair, turning him to face his competition. He moaned. Then his eyes took in the scene, absorbed its meaning. He froze. "Oh my--"

I rattled his teeth. "Don't say it."

"I, I, I--"

"I can assure you, there is no one happier in the world than my Greek god. He is exactly where he wants to be. You should see what I did to my pilot."

He panted, staring up at me, his initial terror renewed.

"Do you want to lick me or not?"

He swallowed. Closed his eyes. Took a shuddering breath. "Yes."

"Clean Alessandro first."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, good boy. That's such a turn on." I watched him crawl to his duties. "You know, I think we might do this for hours."

* * *

SUNDAY.

I unlocked the closet. Half of his face was imprinted with carpet. I peeled him up.

"Well, boy, it's time for a talk. Yes, you may kiss my feet. That's a good boy. Sit up straight, now."

I looked in his eyes. They were overflowing with wonder and devotion. Not quite enough... but was it ever enough?

"I wish I could keep you a few more days. But I have a schedule to keep."

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, dear. You're leaving today."

He quivered. "Please, Ma'am," he whispered. "I... don't..."

"I know, dear. You just got a taste of what it can be like."

He blinked up at me, sorrow in his eyes.

"I feel like I've really gotten to know you over the past week, slave boy. You were a delight to explore. I think you have potential. Maybe even enough potential to..."

He blushed.

"I think you see what it can be like, when you're not paying an actress. When it's real."

He nodded, casting his eyes down.

"You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes," he whispered. "Ma'am."

"When you go, you go. You will have no idea of how to reach me again. I may decide never to let you return."

His eyes grew wider and wider. Fear shadowed his face.

"Or," I allowed, "I may bring you back, if you please me. You have one last test to pass."

He nodded, intent.

"Good. If you impress me... we'll see."

I held out the clip of a leash. He tilted his head back, offering his collar.

I led him outside, to the hitching post. He shivered, eyes searching, but he waited on all fours while I tethered his lead.

"The last time we were here, you asked me where we were. Do you know now, slave boy?"

He thought it over. "Exactly where I belong, Ma'am."

"Good. You remembered. You may kiss my hand."

He did, trembling.

I smiled. "Did you have any more questions?"

"Please... may I stay with you longer?"

"That's not your decision."

"Yes, Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am." He added after a moment, "Thank you, Ma'am."

I left him there to think about it.

Really, it was only a few minutes. But I'm sure that day of sun-baked abandonment was flashing back all too brightly for him.

I returned leading another slave on all fours.

"This is sissy. Sissy, slave boy. I believe you've already met."

Sissy hung behind, his gray head bowed to my feet. I jerked his leash.

"Don't be shy. Stand up, hands behind your head."

He complied, sheepishly turning his eyes away, trying to hide his lipstick-smeared face.

"Mr. Peterson?" slave boy breathed.

"No," I snapped. "That name doesn't exist here. He is my sissy boy. You are my slave. I own both of you. And through you, I own your company." I gritted a smile at slave boy. "I told you your job was safe."

I slapped Sissy's ass. He stepped forward awkwardly. His penis dangled.

"As you can see, you have your work cut out for you. Make him cum for me and you'll earn a chance to visit me again, slave."

Slave boy looked at me, at his boss, at the limp cock, at me. His new boss.

"You have three minutes." I checked my watch. "Go."

Slave boy shuffled forward. Both slaves moaned in humiliation as his tongue touched the flaccid shaft.

"That's it," I encouraged. "Show me what you've learned, boy."

Slave boy's training took over, and he slurped determinedly. Inevitably, sissy boy's dick hardened as slave boy humped it with his face.

"Two minutes."

Slave boy used both hands, front and back, and sissy boy's groaning grew more feral, less reluctant. Slave boy did every fancy sucking trick in his arsenal until he discovered which his employer best responded to.

"One minute."

Of course, I understand performance anxiety. It just makes my countdowns all the sweeter.

Slave boy had found the magic combination and pumped at it perfectly. He concentrated on keeping his movements steady.

"Thirty seconds."

Sissy boy grimaced, struggling with the distractions of standing, an audience, and a deadline -- not to mention the conditioning to keep his dick hard for weeks. His thighs shook with tension.

"Ten seconds. Nine..."

They both gasped, shaking, pounding harder as I counted.

"Six... five..."

They moaned.

"Three... two... one. Stop."

Sissy boy, grunting, pulled out of range.

Slave boy whined, deeply, his tongue panting for more. He eyed the stiff dick desperately.

"Well." I sighed, dusting my hands. "That was disappointing, slave boy. I suppose you haven't learned enough during your stay here, after all."

"Please, M--"

"Quiet."

Slave boy crumpled.

"Stand up," I directed.

He scrambled to his feet.

"Back against the post. Sissy boy, show him how it's done."

I timed them as my senior executive sucked off the junior, leaving a smudged ring of lipstick encircling his cock. Sissy boy, a veteran of the compound, reduced slave boy to bestial shaking in moments.

"Thirty-nine seconds," I announced, watching my sissy swallow. "My, my, slave boy. You must have been shamefully turned on by all of this."

I unlocked his ballsack, dangling the shock ring from my fingers. He absorbed his newfound freedom in dismay.

"Sissy, clean him up and get dressed. I'll meet you both at the truck in half an hour."

* * *

Both of them were dressed and standing, awkwardly, as I approached. Slave boy wore Grunt's hand-me-downs, two sizes too large.

I nodded to Sissy. "You will cover the cost of another suit for him, won't you, dear? Good."

Slave boy trembled, then dropped to his knees. "Please, Ma'am -- if I may..."

I sighed, then tilted my head at sissy boy. He stepped away.

"Up, dear. No, no more boot licking." I dragged him upright by his hair. "Let me guess. You'll do anything."

"I love you," he whimpered.

"Sh, now. All is not lost. You may yet get to see me again. That's right. You'll just have to make him cum for me in under three minutes. That's not so bad, is it? You can practice every weekday. Didn't you notice that one of the monitors in my workroom displays a shot rather like his office, hm?"

He stood paralyzed in wild hope.

"Yes, you'll both go back to your daily lives as if none of this had ever happened. Except for those regular little lunch breaks together. And those comments from your coworkers. 'Yeah right, buddy. Urgent business? We know you went on vacation. You've lost weight, you have a tan. Did you get a nose job?'" I giggled.

I jingled keys. Sissy stepped up to take them.

"His car is around back," I informed him. "I think you'd better drive. He's not quite in condition."

"But we're..." Slave boy paused, confused.

"Nineteen thousand miles from Peoria? Yes, in that direction. In this direction, it's about an hour's drive. The desert is all hypnotic programming, dear. You'll see trees a few miles out, when you can't find your way back again. Aw, don't look at me like that. It's only for protection. Would I mess with your mind?" I smiled. "It's so much more fun to break you fellows in the hard way."

He gaped.

Humming, I went to visit Alessandro.