The Teamviewer Mature Files

While I was hanging up the phone in the living room, she came out and started screw her nameplate on the bedroom, now office, door: Mrs. Tosha Brown, CFO, Joe Anderson Accounting Inc..

"Whew, nametags and everything," I said. CFO? Really? How cute. Should I put one up on the big office door, saying CEO?

She smiled over a shoulder. "I still feel out of place. You'll need to fill me in on everything, Joe."

"Sure." Maybe this was a good time to mention: "I was thinking that we might need an expansion. The two-room office seems kind of tight."

"I do need the third bedroom to stay in, just until I can deal with the other house idea."

My room? Both me and Debbie were sleeping there already. In fact, that was a crowd and another reason why I'd brought up expansion. It's come to seem like camping in that room. My house wasn't really my house anymore. "Oh, uh...."

"We'll work something out in a week or two."

Then, the very next day, Tosha had the papers for the purchase of the house next door on my desk. It seemed like a fair price, but that did it for most of my account, and I had to take a loan.

She had a lawyer who could close fast, since the loan was under fifty percent of the purchase and the place was empty, so everything was looking up. I might have been nearly broke, and a little in debt, but I had big-time assets.

A couple weeks later, everything was swimming along as normal, though constant work. I didn't mind constant work, given we were making something huge.

I was, on the other hand, constantly horny, and once or twice considered hitting Linda up for some femdom, but knew that for the trap it was and kept it to business, other than some occasional tease. Tease was easy, given my state, but even Linda seemed to hold back. That was good. It meant we were doing business together, and like I'd mentioned, it meant there was no incentive to ruin me, which was where I thought we'd been headed, for sure.

Whew, what a relief, as long as I kept it together and played the game, sooner or later things had to find a new normal, and with profits for yours truly, this time.

One Thursday, Tosha finished up for the day. All the other men were gone. She came into my office and said, "I've worked the incorporation up with our lawyer. We need to chat with my sister. Linda wants to teleconference." She grabbed some files and led me into the main office, taking a chair by one of the workstations. I took the one next to hers, feeling a little sheepish.

She checked her watch.

All the screens flipped on to a Teamviewer screen. The window blued then expanded into a view of Linda's bedroom. She stepped into the picture, showing her midsection before sitting down. "Oh look. Everyone's together."

"Hi, Sis."

"Hi." I kept it simple.

"Contract time, Joe," Linda said in a sing-song voice.

"Regarding what, exactly?" I had to ask and get it from her lips.

"Employment, for one. There are all kinds of new employees, haven't you noticed. Then there are all the assets bursting the walls to your house until we can move into the other one next door. You're an accountant. You know we have to be above board. Taxes, healthcare, incorporation. Tosha's the expert, so just work with her, why don'tcha!"

Tosha scooted the keyboard up and plopped a stapled stack of papers in front of me, right on queue. "We'll need a couple of company cars, since I'll be driving to the clients. I found a couple used. Also, insurance for them." The first was the insurance forms, which I signed. Then she put a title in front of me and flipped it over, already filled out except for the signature.

I picked it up and looked on the other side. "Wait a minute. That's my car."

"It's convenient" Linda said. "What, I should be looking for cars all over a new town?"

"But, I'm selling my car to my own company."

"Which means," Tosha said, "other than taxes, there's no need to make out a check. It's the same as incorporation."

"Why pay the taxes?"

"Because it needs to be a company car and not me borrowing it all the time. We're putting the company name on the door."

What an amateur move. It really made no difference, other than the added taxes, which could be avoided.

"Is she giving you trouble, Tosha?" Linda said. Her stern face glared at us from the screen. Apparently she'd zoomed in.

"He's quibbling over a few hundred in taxes."

Linda rolled her eyes. "I thought we wanted to legitimize a partnership, Joe. There's sure to be a cost."

They were going to persist. What was the point? The sooner we were partners, the sooner it would be suicide for her to screw up my company. And with the added profits...: "Sorry. No problem. We were just hashing out the advantages and disadvantages," Give Tosha the benefit of the doubt, "like accountants tend to do."

"Next, the business property, itself," Tosha announced. She pushed another stack of papers onto the desk. My house address was on the first sheet.

"The house? I didn't plan on making the house into part of the business."

"But it is, Joe," Linda said. "In fact, all the purchases, lately, have been rolled into a second mortgage, so the equity's all used up anyway."

"Really?"

"You'd be amazed what you can do electronically, if you have all the information," Linda said.

"I thought it was coming out of my bank account." In fact, I knew even my retirement account was down to nearly the same as what I owed on the second house. When it came to liquid assets, meeting Linda had become a nightmare. I had everything in the business, it seemed.

"There are business investments still en route, relative to those outlays. The second mortgage was what paid for the computers, electrical upgrades, furniture and building supplies yet to be delivered. Need I go on?"

Tosha supported her sister's claim by saying practically into my ear, "That means no equity, so giving the houses to the firm breaks even for you. Then we can work on that expansion you mentioned before. Seems like you're being crowded out, you've obviously noticed. Or, do you plan on sleeping in the basement?"

Houses? As in both houses? Fuck! This just seemed so out of control. But, what choice did I have. If I was already underwater with the new house paid in cash and this one under a bit because of it and the firm.... I hesitated with the pen.

Time ticked by. Patience didn't really seem in my favor.

I swiped my signature on the top form.

"And here, and here." Tosha kept flipping the pages.

I knew from several of these, with one client and my own purchase, that signing over one house then the other, both were about fifteen different forms.

"These are to wave the loan insurance."

Required by the government; I knew. I looked at a couple more, as she explained each in cryptic terms, but we were pen-whipping them in the end. She was at least a good-enough accountant to do a couple simple house transfers. Like most things, the fifteen signatures and two-dozen initials turned into thirty signature and still two-dozen initials.

"My hand is getting a cramp."

"That's not the only thing, I hear." Tosha smirked.

I sighed. "Funny."

"My sister says she once had you by the balls." She winked from beside my shoulder. "Might as well make light of it, now that we're moving on."

I swallowed hard and decided not to go there with her on that. After all, we needed to stay professional, for the business's sake, at least. "We'll need someone to verify," I said, a CPA to the end. "I mean, other than us, since we're principals."

"Got it covered, Joe," Tosha said while stuffing the papers into a folder. "There's a real-estate lawyer on the hook."

On the hook? Shoot, Joe, quit. Not everything a person says is kinky.

Papers came then that I'd not considered. I'd never incorporated before, but knew the legal advantages.

"Change of record for the phone service."

Signed.

"Computer contract."

Signed.

"Electric, water, gas, home insurance."

"I meant it when I said my hand was about to fall off."

About then Debbie... Dumbass, "Ha." came in the front door from his trip to his lawyer's place, where he had basically given everything to his now ex-wife.

Tosha went to the hall door and yelled, "Just a minute, we're finishing up!" She added, more sternly, but in a quieter voice, "Go to your room."

God, Linda had him so cowed that he went right into the far bedroom and quietly closed the door for her sister. No wonder we were getting his services for only twice minimum wages. The man had to have been born a submissive loser from day one. I went as far as to say, "Well, that was convenient."

"Yes, now we can finish," Tosha said, coming back to her seat beside me.

Linda asked from the screen, "Have you finished the article of incorporation yet, Tosha?"

"Next." She whipped it out.

"I'll need to read this carefully."

"Does it matter?" Tosha asked.

"Well, of course it matters."

Linda leaned into the screen and said, "We're giving you a majority position in a company worth three times what it was last month, Joe. It doesn't matter. Just sign. I don't have all night. You've been arguing over everything, and I'm at the end of my patience."

"Well, uh—"

"Or, we can go back to what we were doing, and not even get involved with this business," Linda said. Her face looked angry. "I was doing just fine with flowers. Your company makes nice money, but if it's more trouble than—"

Shit! "Look, I'm sorry!" my lips blabbed. What we had been doing was raping my accounts and threatening to expose me, ruining my whole business. This was my chance. If she backed out, I was in a mess. In fact, I didn't even own my own house anymore. Even the one next door was incorporated.

Tosha sighed, having put in a long day, too. She pushed the paper an inch, suggesting I needed to get it over with.

The top form was a simple incorporation document header. There was my name, Joe Anderson Accounting. On the next page, it started with a corporate statement that Tosha had probably written in my name. It started with this line: As the biggest stakeholder in my own firm, Joe Anderson Accounting, it is my intent to incorporate, blah, blah, blah. So far so good. Apparently they weren't cheating me, after all.

I initialed the page without tempting them worse and reading the many pages of fine print.

She flipped the page.

A majority position, she'd said, so that'd be at least half. I glared at the bottom line, and grit my teeth, taking a leap of faith.

Signature.

Page.

Signature.

Page.

Signature.

God, how many pages are there?

Ten signatures later, Tosha opened it to a page showing stakeholder positions. Shit, it was not what I'd expected. Apparently there was to be 10,000 shares, tentatively face valued at thirty dollars per share. Three stakeholders were listed. I had 4800, Linda 3500 and Tosha the last 1700. That woman had managed to rob me, yet. And, Tosha, still wet behind her ears, had a stake a third as big as my own, nearly on her first month of work.

Oh well, at least I owned almost half the firm. Since we were making considerably more money, that wasn't a complete disaster. In fact, doing some math in my head, I was likely to make twice what I was, even as it sat. If the company grew.... I took a breath of air, realizing it was over. The Teamviewer fucking was done. We were a company and they'd not sold me down the river. Maybe, even, Linda would see it clear to let me take off the horrible chastity fucking-my-peehole device. I would mention it later.

"As you can see, your position is sound," Tosha said. She put the wad into the same folder. She stuffed that into her laptop briefcase and fidgeting a foot more firmly into her shoe. "Now I've got to run and get back to my apartment, which is a mess because of moving. It's already dark. I plan on taking tomorrow off to deal with all this."

It was Thursday.

"Just call it Monday, Joe. Maybe I can move some of my things in the room when this month's lease on my temporary apartment is up." She stood.

"The room?"

She nodded toward my bedroom; the only bedroom left in the house. "Temporary, until we can buy something. Maybe even, that house next door will be moved out of...."

Shoot. I'd wanted to live in that one alone. If she thought she was going to smooze in on that....

My dumbfounded look maybe inspired her to say, "What do you expect me to do? Sleep in the basement?"

"We'll work out something comfortable. Go on, Tosha. I don't want you falling asleep on the road." She laughed. "Take the company car. It's a step up and more comfortable."

Teamviewer Femdom File

By jo199

Chapter Six.

Tosha had taken my car, and the next morning I looked out the window to discover hers was gone, too. That only left me with Debbie's beaten up van. Debbie had errands, mostly related to an e-mail he got regarding the courts accepting his quick, non-contested dissolution. "I have some things in a shed," he mentioned lamely, as if it wasn't more than a few heirlooms. From what I heard, his wife had him completely over a barrel and had gotten the works. He was giving her what was left of his retirement savings instead of alimony, as if that was a windfall for him, given he'd fucked up by doing internet mistresses. "They've taken a hit lately. In fact, I'm in debt, even though I don't own anything;" he didn't elaborate.

While me and the two drones worked a ten hour Friday, I sent an e-mail off to Tosha, asking about the transportation. I was considering going shopping for some things for the new house. Apparently the clones were down to sharing a twenty-year-old Honda and having trouble making rent on a one-bedroom efficiency apartment. At least they ate at work, though my refrigerator was starting to look like it did before a defrost.

Tosha responded faster than I'd hoped for, saying she'd had a friend pick her car up for her, since there was no way she could drive two of them anyway, and it was a junker (actually, I thought it looked small, but fairly new). What did it mean that she'd taken a liking to my car? Then again, she had spoken about doing most of the meet-and-greet work with the clients, so maybe she planned on doing that right away on Monday, without me this time. Maybe she planned on catching one of them on the way in. Yeah, that explained it.

But then again, it didn't keep me from feeling grounded. I was dying to get out, even if I had to wear lingerie underneath.

Fast food sounded good, but she'd promised to bring a bag of dry rice and some vegetables—yeck.

Later, the drones left after another twelve hour day. "Joe, dear?" the computer speakers said to me while I was trying to make order out of the bedroom with all of Debbie's boxes. It seemed like he/she had more female undergarments than clothing, and I noticed only one change of male outerwear. We never mentioned it, like the elephant in the room. "Oh, Jooooooeee!" rang out again.

I ran over to the computers. Finally, a moment alone with her. We needed a talk.

"I hear you are interested in a wank."

"Yes, Mistress Linda," I said with a smile to make sure the mood stayed light like it had been since we'd gone into business together.

"Tuesday, then." The screen went blank. What was it with women and scheduling sex? Didn't they know that men were like, Blue balls! Now?

###

Tuesday was just another day of pounding the keys. Mistress Linda's flower service came online, and it was a bit startling in scale. Apparently she was more of a holding company. The flower business had a presence in five cities and over thirty employees. That one was incorporated, just like I'd just done with my accounting business.

She also had a delivery and a catering service. After sorting through that, she dumped a rolling maid service on me. They did over a hundred houses a day, and were a cash cow. Stemming from that was a business in auto repair, and I immediately saw connections between that and the maid service's fleet of Honda Fits.

I started to wonder about all the video I'd seen of her making flower arrangements. The lady had to be clearing millions per year. Why'd she even bother with the common work, or even the mistress stuff?

We were going to need another employee because we were already doing six day weeks, twelve hours a day. In the short time we'd had her onboard, I'd come to rely upon Tosha to do all the customer contacts and oversight of employee data for my accounting firm, so she was outside of the day-to-day grind of keeping the customer's accounts in line.

Also, she kept hounding me about needing the bedroom, but then suddenly stopped doing that, saying she'd found a new place to stay, coming Wednesday.

So, with some surprise, she came in before first light on Tuesday. I noticed she was back to driving her own car. Where mine was remained a mystery. Before I could ask, she proclaimed that workers were on the way to do a few, "fixes to the place."

"Really? Oh, and incidentally, I need to use the company car today." Maybe she'd tell me where it was or have someone drive it over. "We're out of everything in the refrigerator again, other than mustard."

"Got it handled, Joe. That's all part of the renovations." She made a quick call then announced, "Marcus is bringing McMuffins."

"Marcus?"

"Yeah. He's a confidant of Linda's. I just... hired him to do the heavy lifting for us."

"Shouldn't we discuss this kind of thing? I really need another accountant, and another office space, at the moment."

"Well, we're doing reconstruction, today. Why would we need an accountant for that?"

"You said you hired him."

"God, Joe. We're not thinking small, here. It's one guy."

At that precise moment, Amy and Betty showed an hour late. "We got kicked out of our apartment," they announced. "Failure to pay."

I glanced out at their tiny car and the back was loaded with stuff. The sad part about that was how little it seemed. "Oh my god. We should make an advance. I'm sorry. You should have mentioned something before the end-of-month."

"You two can stay here," Tosha said, taking over the conversation.

"Well, now—"

"Part of the renovations. There are two company houses, now. New house, new work arrangements. Trust me. We have it covered, Joe."

"Don't I get a say in anything?"

That's when Marcus showed with a puny bag of McMuffins, four to be exact. He was a huge black man of about fifty. When he saw us, he smiled and offered his hand and said, "Marcus. Glad doing business with you."

I shook it, feeling like my hand might end up crushed.

He kept smiling, though, maybe noticing the lines of my bra under my white shirt. Mistress Linda had left an e-mail, being most insistent that I only wear a plain white shirt and the big white bra with granny panties. Every few days she was like that, sending e-mails making sure I kept shaved all over and insisting upon photos of my lingerie drawer to see if I kept things neatly folded. Not with the fake B boob inserts today though, so I'd imagined it not glaringly obvious.

Fat chance.

He said, "This place is in transition, I see," like he'd been to a few businesses and knew the difference between one or the other. Not likely. The dude didn't exude rocket scientist. Or maybe he'd meant the other kind of transition, the thought of which made me blush.

Workers banged into the door. It was getting crowded in the living room.

"This is a good time for everyone to use the potty and get to work so these guys can have the rest of the house," Tosha said to us all.

"You heard the boss lady." Marcus smiled even bigger and patted a paw on Tosha's back, like she was a relative. Shoot! She's a relative!

The two literally hustled us into motion. The last thing I saw before entering the work room was Tosha nailing a plate on the workroom door that read, Employees Only.