Why I Love My Job Ch. 07

"Good evening, Miss Cheryl. I was wondering if you'd like company sometime this week?"

"This week," she said, softly, and brushed her hand over the phone. "This Thursday is available. I'm sure I can fit you in."

"Do you mind if I bring a friend?"

"It might depend on who."

"Eric."

"Oh! I thought you meant a girl. So you want to... share me?"

"I plan to make you a desperate whore, forced to sate multiple men a night, or risk punishment. I find the idea hot. Don't you?"

Her hand crept, unsteadily, off the low end of the image. After a moment, her eyes closed partway. "I admit I do," she said.

"Are you touching yourself?"

"Just a little. Your voice, Mr. Gladgrind. You have a very sexy voice. I've started hearing it in my dreams, commanding me to do things..."

"Stop touching."

"I'm very needy this evening. No one is visiting me tonight. Why don't you want me to..."

"You'll come when you are with me. Not before."

"That would be... difficult. And you should know, sir. I... have other fantasies beyond rape and interrogation. They've been coming to light, you might say. One of them is... I'm a slave girl. And I've displeased my Master. He finds ways to punish me, degrading ways. Taking cock after cock from behind while I have to kiss his feet. Masturbating in his lap with his cock up inside me, but I'm not allowed to move. Spanked while forced to lick cocks and pussies. Bound against a wall while two other slavegirls suck my nipples and he uses a vibrator on me, and if I make any noise he uses electrical shocks on me. They get worse... sir, please, I want to touch myself. My date cancelled, his wife found out... please. I'm trying not to go out to the bars, sir, and touching myself helps. Or you could just come over now? You've been the best so far, you have a wicked, playfully cruel imagination..." She panned the camera over her body. "Can you see how much I want your company? Come punish a slavegirl, sir. It will be you or a stranger, and I know I'm safer with you..."

Fuck my life, I thought, grimly. Only I could have found a situation where punishing a hot, horny slave was something like a moral obligation. But I wouldn't go down this path. She was too messed up, and anyway, Julianne was nearby, making sure I didn't make exactly this mistake.

"Not tonight."

She chuckled, her voice breathy but fragile. "That's right, you already have your own slave girl. Sir, please, I need to touch myself...and I like it when you watch. Please."

"Touch."

She positioned the camera so it happened to include her hand. Once upon a time her masturbation had been all theatrics. Now she was all need.

"Call me names, sir," she whimpered.

"I'm not your vibrator," I snapped. "Stop touching. Thursday at seven?"

"Thursday evening whenever you like. For as long as you like."

"Perfect." I clicked out.

Julianne was beside me instantly, and to my shock I found she was naked. She fished my cock out of my shorts and rubbed it with both hands, getting her thumbs up under the head of my cock. "She got you so turned on. That was hard to watch but... I will say this. Seeing you get hard for her makes me need to have you. What simple, stupid creatures we girls are. I have to please you now, I just do. She's right, I'm your slavegirl. I'm so completely owned." She lowered her mouth and sucked the head, her hands still stroking up and down. She was learning me and she had my undivided attention.

"Let me try something, sir. I saw it in your porn collection..."

Figures I'd leave that unlocked... and that she'd be curious.

She knelt on the sofa, straddling me, but instead of sinking down, she shifted so just the head of my cock was pressing against her, and slowly sliding into her increasing wetness. "Steady me," she whispered.

I gripped her by the waist. Her hands slipped down and stroked herself, and me, until they were slippery, and then reached lower and worked my shaft, up and down. That curled her forward, and her breasts were against my face, caressing my lips and cheeks with her fullness.

This had me panting quickly. She was masturbating me with the head of me buried in her, being massaged by her squeezing and little movements. My hands tightened on her.

"Don't," she whispered. "Not yet. Who can stand it the longest? Will I drop myself down on you, or will you force me down?" She wiggled her hips, a fast, tiny motion that massaged the head of my cock and sucked at it. Her nipple slid across my lips, slowly hardening against them, and then pressing in. And then she got a finger up into herself, just slightly, and ground it against my frenum.

"Shit," I whispered. "Fuck!"

"I really am your slavegirl," she whimpered. "You don't need to play pretend with her. I'm the real thing. Punish me, toy with me, and suddenly use me. Be dark with me. That's what you're teaching me – that men have darkness in them and they need a safe path to get it out. You made me that path. I didn't know I'd come to want it. I'm going to learn to please you like a Cheryl never can. Feel that fingertip, working that one spot... feel my hand serving your shaft, my nipple begging to be sucked and nipples... I want your cum. I want it so much. I want it spurting up inside me as you pound me. It's that collar, wearing it every night, sleeping beside you, some nights I wake up and it's all I can do not to masturbate and suck you... cram me full of cock, I'm aching now, empty and hungry, I'm weakening, melting, I need to have all of you slamming into all of me-"

"F-f-fuck!" Uncontrollably I forced her down over me, and we lost balance and she crashed backwards to the floor with me on top of her, but that didn't matter and I plunged into her again and again, taking violently, reduced to a savage fucking animal. I don't remember anything I said or did, but there was thrusting and clinging and squeezing and milking and desperate frantic breathy cries, and then her legs wrapped around me and we came together, moaning and gasping incoherently.

After a time, she giggled, faintly.

"Yes?"

"Sir... do I talk too much?"

"You were talking?"

She kind of hit me, and giggled again. "Ow," she said. "Rug burn. You really lost it, sir."

"I'd tell you not to call me sir, but I still find it kind of sexy. Roll over."

She did, wiggling her ass at me. I slapped it, and checked out the burn. "I've seen worse."

"I bet you have. Probably on Cheryl."

I mused. "You're right," I said, "about the darkness. Men have it and it needs to come out. I need to take and claim and pound, and it's about pleasure, not love. But it doesn't have to be evil. It doesn't have to be painful, and it doesn't have to be wrong. And that's the problem with someone as broken as Cheryl. She lets a man's darkness out, but all at once and without limit. If I did rug burn her, I'd smile sardonically and think she had it coming. With you my first thought was to make sure you were ok. And that's why she's in trouble – she'll meet a man who doesn't care about the consequences, who has too much darkness, and she'll let it all out at once."

Julianne smiled a little. "It's funny that you had to get there by reasoning. I wouldn't have had the words for any of that, but I know it all by instinct. Men have to do everything by thinking. Women have it all wired in. I think that's why there are so few women philosophers worth a damn. We don't need systems. We don't need to think, to know what's right or wrong."

"Actually I think my moral compass is a little more broken than most."

"Well, you're working on it. I might be a little twisted too, for a girl. I just got off screaming while telling you I was your slave. And it's not like I'm all submissive and shi- and stuff. But in bed I'm dripping the moment that collar goes on."

"You know... we could be sitting on the sofa. We don't have to be on the floor."

"It's a looooong way up," she said.

"Just climb my cock."

"What, this rubber thing?" She grabbed it by the base and whipped it around. "It leads straight to the floor again."

"Keep that up and it won't."

She let go. "Yeah, ok, I'm too sated to risk it. I didn't know orgasms felt like that."

I rolled over, and kissed her. She blinked at me. "Why?"

"For... understanding. There's nothing I can do about my sexual response with a come-on like Cheryl's. But rather than screaming at me – girls do that – you just understood it and made it your own. It's a very adult response."

"Instinct again. Jealousy is a dangerous demon in any girl, but I guess it has some positives for the guy. Just don't... mess with it. Don't deliberately use jealousy to make me compete. That just feels sickening. Uh... I'm pretty sure if I sit up I'm going to stain your rug. Can you get me a towel?"

"Urg." I rolled to my feet, and fetched a towel, and on a whim, a warm washcloth. I dropped down next to her, put the towel under her hips, and ran the warm washcloth gently over her pussy. She moaned softly. "Oh that's perfect. That's soooo good. I think I love you."

I froze, staring at her, wordlessly. She stared back, just as stunned, going white and then pink. "Um, I meant..."

"Sit up. Gracious, what a mess you make."

"Ha. That's mostly all you, you know."

"Nope. When I come it's a single round pearl. You suck it up and hide it in your belly. All the actual mess is you."

"So I'm fucking an oyster? You're being weird. Ok, so, sex on the floor is hot. Check. But my hips are already sore."

"Hold on," I knelt down again, gathered her up, and carried her to the bedroom.

"Wait," she said. "Are you going to lay me out in bed, put my collar on me, and kiss me gently on the mouth?"

"It's eerie how you guessed all that."

She shivered abruptly, pressing her face against my chest. "I'm so owned and so screwed," she said in a tiny, muffled voice.

+++

Explaining things to Eric was interesting.

"So you want me, and a hot science girl, to go visit Cheryl, who is fucking hot and wants to be drugged and used. Except I can't touch the science bitch and she won't even be in the room with us. At some point you and she leave and I can do whatever I want with Cheryl, except no real rough stuff. And we can't talk about it afterwards. And Cheryl is fine with this."

"It's complicated, Eric. I can't talk about who messed with Cheryl but she's basically a Black X addict now. Due to her addiction she is very okay with this, and if you can be nice to her she'll certainly want you back."

"And why aren't you doing her nightly?"

"Julianne, remember? I don't need a harem."

"Except tonight you want two women."

"Science hottie is coming along to try to figure out what's up with Cheryl."

"So this is like... an intervention. Except with fucking."

"I guess that's as good a way as saying it as any."

"And people call me crazy?"

"All the damn time. Look, I get that it's weird. But your part in all this is to do Cheryl, and I promise you that's not exactly a burden. Keep her occupied when I'm talking to Karin. Don't discuss it afterwards. That's the whole deal. What do you know about Black X?"

"Enough to know it's addictive as hell and psychotropic. And not cheap. How did she get addicted and where is she getting it?"

"I can't tell you. But the person supplying her is no one we want to mess with, which is why we don't talk about it afterwards."

"This relates to your visit to the principal's office. We're doing his girlfriend?"

"Not that I told you this, but ex-girlfriend. Very ex."

"But he keeps her supplied with Black."

"Try to figure out why," I said, grimly.

"Dude... he might as well kill her. Oh. Oh shit. He basically is. Untraceably. And you're riding to the rescue here?"

"More like science girl Karin is. Our job is to get Karin in the door once Cheryl is in lala-land."

"Are you going to do Cheryl?"

"Fuck, Eric. Probably. Have you ever been with a girl on Black?"

"Nope."

"All I can tell you is that crazy can be very, very hot. It's not the core mission, but to see her is to want some and she won't be able to say no. And don't tell me you have a problem sharing because I know you don't."

"I'm fine with it. You're the one who got weird about it. Julianne's off the market, and that's not like you. Suzie was a free-for-all."

"Julianne's not Suzie. Different girl, different rules."

"Who are you and where did Scott Gladgrind go?"

"He went to the principal's office and had his vision enlarged. There's more going on in this Company than you could ever dream."

"No doubt. Just call me Horatio of the limited philosophy."

"I wish people would stop making literary allusions that go straight over my head. So you're in?"

"Yeah. If only to see how deep the rabbit hole goes."

"Ok, I got that one. Alice in Wonderland. The part where she does drugs and falls into that endless hole that symbolizes her own sexuality."

"So you do read, at least the classics. Here's a hint, though. That wasn't actually the original you read."

"Really?"

"Really. There was no sex in the original. At all. It was a child's story."

"No shit. That rabbit would be pretty fucked up in a child's story."

"Um... ok, never mind. Someday I'll show you my ancient and secret collection of printed-era books. Your mind will explode. I bet you'd never have guessed that Peter and the White Witch didn't have sex magic fights and Lucy and Edmund weren't getting it on with the White Stag. Lord Fauntleroy didn't spank his female servants, either. And we're not even going to discuss Peter Pan."

"Peter Pain?"

"Pan, in the original. This is a topic for another time. We'll be doing more... modern day fantasy this Thursday, it sounds like."

"Heh. We could read her Peter Pain. She could be Ticklehell."

"It sounds like she has enough issues already."

+++

We made final plans. Eric and I would call on Cheryl, leaving Karin to arrive separately. Once Cheryl was under the influence, we'd being Karin in. Afterwards, Karin would be passed off as a figment of Cheryl's imagination, and Karin and I would take off, leaving Eric to finish the evening with Cheryl.

That evening I found out Julianne had again been borrowed by another department, and would be gone for three weeks this time. She's already packed and left; I guessed she loved the fact that orders were orders and I didn't have a say in it. That got me snarling.

Being borrowed once wasn't unusual; it was standard to loan new employees around, to teach them that the Company called the shots and ordered their comings and goings. But twice this fast was someone meddling. I pulled up the manpower database and started digging.

The group asking for her had a genuine need of temporary staffing... for a week. Three weeks was bogus, and her third week, once I unraveled the job codes and TQ data, turned out to be working as a personal assistant, which at her pay grade was pretty much someone saying "I want to fuck this one."

Cursing fluently, I pounded open the history trace that showed where the request came from – and found I was blocked. Reassigning her just took a green circle – but blocking me meant someone red circle or above had arranged it.

"Call Julianne," I snapped to my phone.

"Hello sir," she answered.

"Julianne. Heads up. Someone explicitly arranged the transfer and is holding you an extra week."

"I know, sir. It's very very flattering."

I erupted into profanity.

"I'm sorry, sir. Does someone else's interest... bother you?"

"It fucking well- you're enjoying this, you little bitch!"

"Oh no sir, I would never-" but then she dissolved into giggling.

"Don't toy with me, Julianne!"

"You toy with me, sir. I'm getting the impression you can dish it out, but can't take it?"

"You're really pushing it sweetheart."

"Maybe, sir. But I've figured something out. You didn't know this transfer was coming, and I'm certain you already tried to block it, and failed. That means you've been outranked. And that means you don't know who arranged it, doesn't it."

"You do, don't you."

"Yes sir, but I'm forbidden to talk about it."

"Julianne, if it's anything to do with a certain vice president of my acquaintance-"

Her voice got serious. "No, sir. I checked. Honestly I wouldn't have gone if there was even a hint of that involved. But I have an... orientation class in a few minutes, so please excuse me?"

"At this time of night?"

"Yes sir. Oooh, ok I really do have to go now. Talk to you later, sir!"

I clicked out, seething. I stalked into the kitchen, found the chicken I'd planned to cook for our dinner, and sliced it the fuck up into tiny pieces. Red circle. Twice my income at least and a thirty hour workweek. He'd have plenty of time for his personal assistant. Fucking hell, and she thought it was funny!

I cursed again, and planned to enjoy the fuck out of my time with Cheryl. She wouldn't fucking screw with my emotions, at least. Shit!

+++

The next few days passed quickly enough at work – we had a major disconnect with Government and litigation heated up quickly – but time at home dragged. I hadn't realized how quickly I'd gotten used to Julianne's presence, even if a lot of it consisted of the sort of dark brooding disdain that only an eighteen year old girl can generate. I put up with it because she wasn't that way in bed, and has she fell asleep she kept the habit of wrapping my hair around her hair as she drifted off. No girl had ever done this, and few girls have had less reason to, but as her breathing got regular and light, I'd look at her in the semidarkness, her face going peaceful and her lips parting in that unguarded and innocent way.

I'd kissed her like that more than once, and she'd murmur something inaudible and press her body against mine, her hand slipping clumsily over mine to make sure it was still in her hair. My cock would grow stiff at these times, but I didn't take her. There was something in her bizarre trust in me, which only emerged on the edge of sleep, that affected me much more deeply that I wanted to admit.

The next morning, though, she'd be all "Fucktoy S-11421137, reporting for feeding, adjustment and use" at the breakfast table, and her pretty hair would be swept back in a hair band as if to say that it was hers and my hand had never been invited into it.

I stayed in contact with her during the day. She was aloof, even while some of the other recent hires took to smiling at me in the halls.

Finally it was time to deal with Cheryl, which at least gave me something else to think about.

+++

I knocked on the door. Cheryl opened it immediately.

She was dressed as a fantasy slave – a golden translucent bra top with exposed nipples; thong panties, very visible under a diaphanous purple skirt, slit up both legs; a collar on her throat, and slave bracelets on her wrists and ankles. Her generally small-but-curvy Asian look somehow made it a very hot combination. To make it more interesting, she was wearing some kind of insertable vibrator, held in place by the thong.

Her eyes were already wide and dark. I introduced Eric and her smile got very inviting. Eric does that to women.

As soon as we stepped in she handed me a remote control.

"Some new toys came for me a few days ago," she said. "The remote is for this vibrator. That little red light flashes when I squeeze down and that green light flashes when I'm about to come. The vibrator is... something. Just putting it in, it gives this intermittent little massage, you can't hear it but I can feel it. It's driving me crazy. The other toys..." she pointed to a new piece of furniture, a large wooden X mounted against the wall, with locking manacles and belts. "But the wickedest new toy is that set of goggles on the table. When you put it on, it grips and covers both ears, and it starts start to tell a story, sometimes showing little flashes of video, but mostly staying dark. It's a different story each time. Erotic doesn't begin to describe it. They are the kind of stories that... would work very well with Black X. And if I wear the vibrator at the same time, the goggles control it. And when the story starts, the manacles on the cross lock. They don't unlock until the story ends. Bottom line... I could have Black X experiences when I'm alone now."