by Sophie Pert
About a minute later my phone lit up again, this time the internal line from Mr. Richardson.
“Hello Mr. Richardson,” I said sweetly, “How can I assist you?”
“I need you to pull a report and bring it to me immediately. We only have hard copies of this one so you’ll need to request an expedited and scanned copy from the archives. Take down this case file number X873KHO902.”
I scribbled down the code and was about to say thank you when he hung up the phone.
Pull a hard copy from the archives? I had absolutely no idea how to do that, it wasn’t in the training. I looked from side to side desperately, but there was no one in sight that didn’t wasn’t on the phone.
What was I going to do? Run and ask someone else for help? That wouldn’t work. That would be worse.
The first rule that was drilled into me was don’t leave your desk unless you absolutely have to. You need to be there to attend to your executives needs.
I pulled up the intranet on my computer, it was a whole system of archives of staff and other information and I figured maybe if I just tried to search through it I would find an answer. I clicked in the search bar and typed out ‘pull a hard copy from the archive’ and searched.
Thousands of results came up.
This was a job of seconds, the trainer had told me, you need to have everything done immediately. Even better if you can anticipate what will be needed and have it ready so you can provide it before you’re even asked.
I was failing.
I was flailing.
I glanced at the clock and saw that it had been five minutes, I had just wasted five minutes with nothing to show for it.
The phone was ringing, it was the internal line again.
“Hello Mr. Richardson,” I said, a little defeated, “I’m sorry sir, I’m still trying to find the report.”
“Come in here,” his voice was hard and cold, all patience drained out of it.
I hung up the phone and stood from my desk, turning and heading into his office.
He was sitting behind his desk, his phone hung up and his fingers steepled in front of him with his his elbows on the table. This time he didn’t offer me a seat.
“I have taken a chance on you,” he said, his voice even and emotionless, “And while I understand that there is going to be a learning curve for you here during your first few days I still do expect a degree of competence to be present. You need to be able to do simple tasks, something as simple as locating a file from the archives.”
“Yes sir,” I said, struggling to maintain eye contact.
“What exactly happened?” he asked, “Why did you have such a hard time locating the file?”
“I just,” I stumbled, trying to find the words, “No one showed me how to pull a file from the archives.”
He sighed, “Did they show you how to pull a file?”
“Yes sir,” I said, “Go into the intranet, click on the ‘Locate File’ button and input the file number or name from there.”
He left his desk and walked over out of the room. I followed him a bit numbly. He went to my keyboard, pulled it toward him and quickly clicked on some things, I saw him punching in a file number and hitting enter before turning the monitor so I could see it. The page was the same one I had seen for all files in training, but this one had in big letters at the top of the page FILE ARCHIVED with two options below it: EXPEDITED SCANNED COPY and REQUEST HARD COPY.
Wordlessly he turned and went back into his office. I hung my head in shame and followed.
When I entered the room he was back behind his desk, “Did you even attempt the method you were trained to do?”
“No sir,” I confessed.
He sighed and leaned forward, “I don’t expect you to be perfect on the first day, but I do expect a degree of critical thinking to be applied to this job. Ashley, tell me honestly, are you in over your head?”
“No sir,” I shook my head, insistent on getting a second chance.
“This is a job that needs you to do things quickly,” he went on, “To anticipate my needs before I even know them.”
“Please sir,” I said, swallowing and looking up at him, “Please give me another chance.”
“I’m not in the habit of giving second chances,” he said, sitting back in his chair and thinking.
I squirmed in the room, staring at the floor, the silence deafening.
Mr. Richardson got up from his seat and paced the windows of his room, lost in thought. Finally he turned and crossed the room towards me. He took my chin in one of his big hands and tilted my head up to look at him.
“Listen,” he said, “Ashley I know you’re a smart girl. I know that if you put your mind to this job you can excell. I am going to give you another opportunity. Try to do your best and we’ll see what happens from here.”
“Yes sir,” I said, a small smile daring to peek out.
He let go of my chin and turned from me, heading back to his desk.
“I have a meeting in half an hour that I would like for you to take notes for,” he said, “Do me a favor and look up any details or things to keep in mind while taking these notes. So that we can be sure that you do your very best, okay?”
“Yes sir,” I said, beaming at being able to keep my job.
“Thats a good girl,” he said, “Back to your desk.”
I turned and left.
So engrossed was I in researching everything i could about the next meeting and what notes might be necessary that I don’t think I even noticed that he had referred to me twice as a a girl.
I was ready with a minute to spare, a pad of paper and pen in hand I headed back into his office to stand with him in the room while he took this call. He was reading a thick binder full of information and barely even registered that I had entered the room, he only gave me a slight nod.
“Feel free to start the call,” he said, continuing to thumb through the pages of the binder.
I walked over to his desk, bending over it and working the phone to set a call and set the phone to speakerphone. It rang a few times and then someone answered, I introduced Mr. Richardson and then stepped back as he started to work.
He went through most of the usual pleasantries of an early call. Hellos and other such familiarities. Then they got down to business, in this case looking into distribution in a far east country for the gender switch pill I had taken.
I leaned against the desk, notepad in one hand and pen in the other, and scribbled down notes as they spoke. Names of contacts and projected dates and prices. Specific details that might help Mr. Richardson in the future.
For his part Mr. Richardson wandered around the room while he talked, taking his time to look out over the skyline through the window or thumb through a book on one of the shelves for a specific piece of information.
At a certain point the call devolved into debate over the fine details of a few small points and so for the most part there was very little for me to note down. So I found myself watching Mr. Richardson instead.
He wore a similar suit to the one from yesterday. It was finely tailored and a steel grey color that matched his hair. The suit itself was a three piece, with a vest that was cinched tight over his flat stomach. He had on a white dress shirt and a dark red tie with matching pocket square. He was very well put together, but that wasn’t what I was watching.
Instead I was watching him move, watching him move with fascination. He stalked around the room like a cat, smooth movements easily crossing the ground without seeming to really put any effort in at all. At the same time he still was so imposing, he owned the space he occupied. It was in the little things, the way he grasped objects around the room, feeling them as if to reassure himself that they were of an acceptable grade of quality. He commanded attention, which is the reason why it was so difficult to look away.
That and I kept picturing what was underneath the suit.
It was undeniable that Mr. Richardson was handsome. He had that well-kept
older man look to him that just bespoke refinement. But there was more to him, more to his body. You could tell that underneath the fine clothes and expensive accessories there was a hard body trained to be a peak physical specimen. He was built to command respect, to command attention, to be able to take with strength what he couldn’t persuade with charisma.
Plus I couldn’t help but remember my fantasy. I kept flashing back to it in my mind, remembering myself bent over in front of the mirror while I pleasured myself to the thought of this man, this handsome older man, taking me from behind.
I couldn’t help it.
But hearing the words, “Goodbye,” come from him snapped me out of my fantasy and I quickly reached over to click the end call button.
“Thank you Ashley,” he said with a smile, and I nodded and turned to walk out of the room, hoping that he didn’t notice the flushed tone of my skin.
“Oh Ashley,” he called out, “Quick question. What was the final date for approval on their end again? I just want to double check it with our distributors.”
“Yes,” I said, looking down at my notepad for the information. I found nothing. I had been so distracted staring at him that I hadn’t even written it down.
“Ashley?” he asked, confusion and impatience creeping into his voice.
“Sir,” I said, not wanting to turn around and look at him, “I missed that information.”
“You what?” he crossed the room in quick strides, coming between me and the door, “You missed the information?”
“Yes sir,” I confessed.
“This is unbelievable,” he said, hands on his hips, “How could you do this? How could you miss that?”
“Well sir,” I said, “I’m sorry. I was just… distracted.”
“Distracted?” he said, incredulous, “It was the two of us in my office. What was there for you to possibly be distracted by?”
I stammered, trying to figure out what to say.
“Well?” he asked, expecting an answer.
“I was turned on,” I blurted out, a blush rising in my face.
“Turned on by what?” he asked.
“By you.”
The words hung out there in the air between us and I trembled with embarrassment at the whole thing. He was stoic and still as a statue, not moving and, though I didn’t look up to be sure, processing what it was that I had just said.
He reached behind him and locked the door, and as he did the glass windows that made up the interior wall of his office frosted and cut off anyone from seeing inside.
“Come here,” he said, walking me over to the desk. He leaned against it and I stood facing him, taking a deep breath and looking into his face.
“Look I’m just going to be honest,” he said, “You are terrible at this job. Are you really sure you want to keep it?”
At first I was confused, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. I had just told him that I was turned on by him, and his response was to turn it back to this? To me being terrible at my job? To asking if I was sure I wanted to do this?
Then it dawned on me, and I realized exactly what he wanted me to do here.
“Yes sir,” I said, “Absolutely. I’ll do anything, sir.”
I reached out with my hand and tentatively placed it on his thigh, then I looked him dead in the eye.
He grabbed my hand by the wrist, holding it firmly and pulling it away from his leg. He didn’t hurt, he was forceful but restrained.
“I’ve given you the opportunity to improve and it seems that wasn’t enough,” he said, his voice even and low, “I’ve given you every chance and benefit and it wasn’t enough. If the carrot doesn’t work then we will have to try the stick.”
He pulled me, tugging me over to the desk by my arm and placing my hand on the desktop. I let my other hand join it so I was bent over the desk, my ass presented for him.
He stood and stepped behind me, and I felt his hands lightly touch my thighs through the fabric of my skirt and slid down to the hem of it. He grasped it and pulled it up, peeling it up my thighs and exposing my panty clad ass to him.
I felt his hand run across my cheeks, feeling each of them in turn.
Then with a crack he spanked me, hard and firm on my right ass cheek. I jumped a bit with the sensation, with the feeling of him hand disciplining me.
Crack, his hand fell on my left cheek, stinging a bit and eliciting a slight gasp from me. I bit my lips and struggled to not cry out in pain.
Crack, once more across my cheeks and I felt my knees tremble. Not with pain, though that was there as well. I felt a sense of supreme arousal. I’d never been so turned on before.
Crack, his hand came down on me again and this time it stayed on my cheek. With soothing motions he rubbed his hand across my ass, feeling the reddening flesh.
“Kneel,” he said, his word an order.
I obeyed, first smoothing my skirt back over my stinging flesh and then sliding to the ground with my back to the desk.
I looked up at him, as he stood overtop of me handsome and imposing. His hand cupped my chin again as he looked at me, not an ounce of sympathy in his eyes.
He was looking at me like I was yet another task to conquer, and I couldn’t wait to be taken by him.
“You have been a very bad girl,” he told me, “Beg for my forgiveness. Prove to me you deserve to be forgiven.”
Then he released my chin.
“Please sir,” I begged, “I know that I haven’t served you well today but I will do my best to change that. I need this job sir, and I will do anything to keep it. I will do anything to prove just how valuable of an asset I can be.”
I reached out my hands, placing them again on his thighs. This time there was no hesitation, I felt his muscular thighs and slid my hands upwards to his belt. I worked as quickly as I could, unzipping him and unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants and boxers to the ground.
His cock popped out at me, a long and thick member bulging with veins and with a bush of neatly trimmed grey hair at the base.
I didn’t waste a minute.
Without thinking I wrapped one hand around the base of his thickening cock and began to stroke him as my mouth wrapped itself around the tip of his cock. I sucked and licked at his head, doing my best to imitate what I had seen in porns and experience in real life. I’d never been on this side of a blow job before though, and I was worried that my inexperience showed.
Still I tried to please him, tried to prove to him that there was value in keeping me around.
I took as much of him into my mouth as possible, choking a bit on him before pulling him out of my mouth and using my hands to stroke the saliva I had left behind all up and down his shaft until it was slick and wet. I looked up at him and batted my big eyes as I took him back into my mouth, tasting the salty flavor of his precum as I ran my tongue over the slit in the head of his cock.
He was staring back at me with a look of satisfaction in his eyes. Not making any noise, so I knew that I could do better, but still the look of enjoyment that he was giving me was enough to make me believe that I was on the right track.
He reached out with a hand and put it on the back of my head, shifting me subtly and putting me back to work concentrating on pleasing him. I bounced my head on his cock, taking him as far in as I could without choking and then easing off. All the while my hand stroked corkscrews up and down his shaft.
There was something easy about this, something natural. Something that made it feel right.
Because of that I didn’t even think about how odd all of this was for me. Didn’t even think about how before yesterday I had never even gone so far as to fantasize about a man before let alone give him an actual blowjob.
I didn’t care.
I didn’t care that I was really a man or that I was straight. I didn’t even stop to think about it.
All I cared about was pleasing this cock in front of me. All I wanted to do was taste it.
His hand gripped into my
hair and pulled me off of him. I let out a whimper of disappointment.
Reaching down he lifted me up and spun me around, bending me over the desk again.
I felt him slid my skirt back up over my hips and expected to feel him spank me. But instead he slid my panties to the ground and ran a single finger up my dripping slit.
I moaned and shivered with the sensation of it.
Then I felt something wide and thick push at me, pushing between my lips and pressing it’s way inside of my sex. I felt him thrust his hard cock into me and stretch me like I had never been stretched before.
The feeling was overwhelming. It was so much more than my fingers could ever give me, so much better. I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head as he pushed his way into me inch by shuddering inch. My head drooped down to the desktop and I let out a long, low moan as he filled me up.
I could feel every bit of his thick cock buried inside of me. All of the bumps of his veins and the bulge of his head pushing its way in. He was filling me up in a way that I had never experienced nor ever could imagine.
It was pure satisfaction. Unadulterated lust.
And then he started to thrust.
With great heaves of his hips he pounded away between my legs. There was no subtlety or grace, no refinement to his movements. His fingers gripped my hips as he pounded me, the tops of my thighs banging against the side of the desk as I felt my body bounce with each of his forceful thrusts.
My hands reached across his desk, gripping the far edge and holding on for dear life as he pumped his rock hard cock into me. I felt his hands release me, but still the thrusts continued.
His palm came down with a crack on my ass, spanking me as he continued to thrust. The vibrations of it rebounded through my body, making me vibrate in time to the thrusts of his hips. His hand flew down again, this time on the other cheek making me moan lewdly and wonder briefly how much could be heard outside of his office.
I decided I didn’t care.
This was what I wanted, what I needed. This was what was inevitable from the first moment I buried a finger inside my dripping sex in front of that mirror.