Big Bad Boss

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Big Bad Boss Page 2

by Amy Faye


  “It was an accident,” she says finally. “I wasn’t supposed to send it to you.”

  “So you intended for someone else to hear about your sexual fantasies about me? Now I am offended! You’re going to give me a bad name, all for the sake of… of what? Your joke?”

  “I’m sorry,” she says. I can see her getting swirled up in the whole conversation. Confusion is as clear as can be on her face, and she looks like she’s getting turned around and around. That’s good. It’s exactly what I wanted to happen.

  “You should be sorry. Now, what am I going to do with you?”

  “I didn’t mean to…”

  “No, I guess you didn’t mean to, did you?”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeats again. “I don’t want you to be upset with me, I really need to have work.”

  “And you want me to give you a recommendation after that?” I screw my eyes up a little bit. “I don’t know how comfortable I am with that. I don’t want to put someone else in this position any more than I want to be in it myself.”

  That’s a trap. She’s already walked into so many other parts of it that I don’t know if she even recognizes that this is the point where it’s going to be hard to turn back. But this is the pointy end of the trap, and she’s about to walk right into it.

  “You… you wouldn’t. Would you? Please, I can’t… I need work, okay? I’ve got nowhere to go. They’ll put me out on the street!”

  “Well,” I say, with exaggerated sadness, “I guess that’s the price that you pay. I’m sorry that this happened to you, you’re a good girl. But you need to be more careful with what you say and who you say it to in the future, alright?”

  She seems to be searching for some response. I’m willing to let her think as long as she wants before I get my response out.

  “I… I don’t know…” Her eyes twist up like she’s about to cry. It’s hard not to feel bad when a woman looks like that. She’s probably really upset, and I’m about to take advantage of those feelings with impunity. It’s totally unfair to her. But I’m not going to just not do it. “I don’t know what to do.”

  I can see that now her eyes are wet, and in a moment that wetness will well up until it falls down her cheeks.

  “Do you want me to tell you what you should do?”

  “I don’t know what you want from me, but I… I’m going to be ruined!”

  “I don’t want you to be ruined. You’re a good worker, Caitlynn. A good worker, a good woman, and you don’t deserve to have one mistake ruin your life.”

  She starts to cry in earnest now, hearing that. That should be my first cue to back off, but I’m not going to, in spite of myself. I don’t know what that says about me, but I know that I can’t change it even if I wanted to.

  “I’m sorry!”

  “But I need to make sure that we’re on the same page here, okay?”

  “I’m sorry,” she says again. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to come here, okay?”

  Her fingers rub at her eyes and she shuffles across the floor, her breaths coming in kicks and starts. More than once she hiccups loudly. I’m not going to get mad about something like that; I’m not a complete monster, after all.

  Her shoulders slump and she comes across the room, still rubbing her eyes.

  “I’m s-sorry,” she says a third time.

  “Just come here, and it’s going to be fine, okay?”

  “O-okay.” She hiccups again.

  “Do you need a glass of water?”

  She shakes her head, but I reach for the glasses and pour one from the water cooler I keep by my desk and hand it to her. She takes it and drinks it down reluctantly at first; when she puts it down, though, it’s empty.

  “There. Is that better?”

  Cait nods.

  “You know, if you wanted me to treat you better, Cait, you could have just asked. I’m a perfectly reasonable man.”

  I don’t know if she’s going to believe that after I’m through with her, but at this point I’ve got her by the throat and there’s not a whole hell of a lot that she can do about it either way. I know this, and I might feel a little bad, if I let myself. But I’m not going to let myself. Where would I be in business if I didn’t capitalize on the opportunities that are provided to me?

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she says softly. “I was just letting off steam.”

  “Yeah? I understand that. I get that. You know, I’ve got a confession to make to you. Just between us, since you’ve accidentally told me such a big secret about yourself.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve always thought you were good looking yourself, Cait.”

  She blinks. She’s clearly understanding that there’s something else to this. That I’m getting at something. But she’s not sure what it is just yet.

  “Oh,” is all she says.

  “And you know what? I think we could help each other out.”

  I can see in her eyes, the expression of a woman who’s starting to understand. But what I’m not seeing is the look that says that she’s found a way out of it. At this point, she’s pretty much walked into it. The only thing that she could have done that put her more in the position was to say the words ‘I’ll do anything.’

  “H-how’s that?”

  I let her think about it for a minute.

  “I know that you’re worried about your job security.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I can make those worries go away, you know?”

  “And what would I have to do to get that?”

  “You’re really thinking this through, huh? Well, let’s start with the question. What would that be worth to you? Never have to worry whether or not I’m going to get mad and let you go. Never have to worry about whether or not you’ve got another paycheck coming in two weeks. Security.”

  “I don’t know,” she says. She probably doesn’t. It’s not a thought that most people have to ponder. What would it be worth to never have to worry about food or a roof over your head? Probably quite a lot.

  “You could have that, if you wanted it. All you’d have to do is take it. You’re a smart girl. You deserve to have an easy life. Hell, you keep me happy enough, and maybe I even overlook it when you’re surfing Facebook on the clock, and tell me to go get my own damn coffee.”

  Her jaw moves from side to side as she thinks it through. As she tries to decide what that would be worth to her.

  “And what would I have to do to get that?”

  “Not much, to be honest. In the grand scheme of things? Practically nothing at all.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I need to know first. Is that something you’d be interested in? Practically nothing to keep me happy, and then you get to stop worrying about money for the rest of your life. It sounds tempting, doesn’t it?”

  Four

  Cait

  I can’t help but blink. Blink and wait for his words to become a little easier to understand. Because it sounds like he’s hemming and hawing about it, but it sounds a whole lot like he’s asking me if I want to be his sex doll. I blink again.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just not understanding. What are we talking about here?”

  “We’re talking about never needing to worry whether or not anyone hears about the texts you just sent me. I have to say… I don’t know how people would respond. Maybe they’d be fine with it. It’s a liberated age, these days. A woman can do what she likes, to an extent, without the harsh eyes of judgment on her.”

  I blink. It’s hard to hear this any other way, but I keep reminding myself. There must be a mistake. I’m not hearing what I think I’m hearing.

  “Are you asking me to sleep with you?”

  Jasper blinks, almost recoiling as if he were slapped. “Sleep with me? Don’t be lewd! Of course I’m not suggesting that you ought to sleep with me. What sort of man do you take me for?”

  I can feel the weight slip off my shoulders for a se
cond. No more need to panic.

  “I’m asking you if you want to never have to work again, Caitlynn.”

  “And I’m asking you what you’re offering me, and what it’s going to require of me.”

  “Nothing terribly much, Cait. I just want you to listen to my suggestions, take them into account. Things like that. Just be friendly.”

  “Friendly how?”

  “How friendly do you want to be?”

  I blink. I’m not hearing this, because if I was, then wouldn’t feel like I’m going nuts.

  “I’m not understanding.”

  “I’m trying to be as clear as I can, Cait. What would it be worth to you to never have to work again?”

  “That’s impossible, so… I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”

  “Pretend,” he says, leaning forward. “Pretend that it was possible.”

  “I’m not sure… you’d have to tell me what I had to do for it.”

  Jasper leans back. He looks up at me, his expression flat and level, and waits. And waits. I feel like I’m going nuts. If this is what it feels like to negotiate with him, I don’t want to go into business against him.

  “You know what I would do, Cait? To never have to worry about my rent again? Never have to worry about my mother getting sick? Never have to worry about a hospital bill?”

  I wait, but I can see in his eyes, he’s daring me to push the question back on him. My mouth feels dry as I speak. “What?”

  “I’d do anything at all, Cait. So I’m asking you again. What would you pay for peace of mind? Not having to worry about money? No worries about a scandal coming out?”

  I swallow hard. So I’m not misunderstanding.

  “I’d do what I had to do. Sir.”

  “Anything at all?”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can offer that.”

  He smiles. I’m caught in his net now, and I know it. He knows it, too. And worst of all, he knows that I know.

  “I’m not going to ask you to do anything. I’m going to ask you to do specific things.”

  “Can I say no?”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “What your peace of mind is worth to you.”

  I swallow again. My heart pumps in my ears. I’m afraid of him, and I’m afraid of what happens if I turn him down even more.

  “Okay,” I say finally. Breathless. I don’t know if I can go through with this but I have to save myself somehow, and eventually, maybe, I’ll be able to. But for now, I play along.

  “Bend over,” he says. “Panties down.”

  I blink at him. “I thought you said…”

  “What did I say?”

  “You said you weren’t going to tell me to fuck you.”

  “Did I say that?”

  “I think you did.” I play it back in my mind, but it’s fuzzy. I swear I remember something about it.

  “Are you telling me that you won’t do it?”

  “Please. Not that.”

  He thinks for a long moment.

  “Okay, then. We’ll start small.” He doesn’t bother to hide his growing erection from me at this point. I take my eyes off of it, but it doesn’t last. It never does.

  “What?”

  “Your shirt,” he says. “Off. All the way.”

  I look towards the door.

  “I’m not so sure that’s…”

  “Are you worried about someone coming inside?”

  I look at his face. I don’t know if that’s allowed.

  “Yes,” I say finally. The truth is the best I can do. If he decides that I’ve got to deal with the risk, that’s one thing. But I can at least tell him that I’m afraid, right?

  “Go lock the door, then,” he says. “And then take it off.”

  The office isn’t small, but I cross it in three steps. My feet hurt from all this standing, and I’d like nothing more than to sit back down. The door locks with a deep ‘thunk’ and then I turn around.

  “Well?”

  I can feel my heart threatening to jump out of my chest. “I’m not so sure…”

  “It’s your choice, Cait. You can always say no.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “You’ll be accepting the consequences, of course.”

  I remind myself again that I can’t afford them. Besides, it’s just my shirt. I undo the buttons quickly and leave it hanging open.

  “All the way off?”

  “All the way off,” he confirms. “And come here.”

  I let the shirt fall down my shoulders and catch it in one open hand as I walk over.

  “Sir?”

  “You’re not done,” he says. I can see that his hand has taken a grip on his shaft through the thick fabric of his trousers. “Bra, too.”

  My face flushes hot. I look over at the door again. I just locked it. I know that. And the shades are drawn, so there’s no way that anyone can see inside. No way that someone’s going to walk in. But I can’t help thinking about what could happen.

  “If it means that you don’t tell anyone,” I say.

  He nods in response. “You have my word.”

  I reach back and pull at the catch. It comes undone easily, and then falls forward. My hands automatically come up to cover them, in spite of myself.

  “I don’t have to tell you what you’re doing wrong, do I?”

  I look down, my face hot and my entire body feeling wrong, but I look him in the eyes. Which is why I notice that he’s apparently decided not to content himself with rubbing through the pants.

  His cock is thick and long. I’m almost sorry I didn’t let him fuck me. Almost. He rubs it with long, slow movements, accentuating the length of it with every stroke.

  “I’m… sorry,” I say. I force my hands to my sides.

  “I want you to get on your knees,” he says. His voice leaves little room for argument, but if he thinks I’m going to suck him off, after all this… I’ll take the damn consequences.

  “I’m not sucking it,” I say. Defiant.

  “I didn’t ask you to. I’m satisfied with this, for now. On your knees. Between my legs, like that.”

  I get down, between his knees. His hand strokes the big cock in front of me, so close that I can almost taste it. I don’t realize that I’m staring until I hear his voice above me.

  “See something you like?”

  I blink. I’ve been leaning in, closer and closer with every moment. I didn’t realize until just now, and now I’m not sure what I was thinking.

  “No,” I say, more forcefully than I intended. I’m not going to have him thinking that I’m attracted to him. It was a joke, and I’m not interested in him. I’m not interested in pleasing him, or looking at him, or watching him.

  “Don’t lie to me.” His hand started to move faster. “Let me touch them.”

  I think for a moment before I sit up higher. His other hand reaches forward and takes one breast in the palm of his hand, gently squeezing and feeling it. I don’t like it, because I have decided that I’m not going to like it. The hand on his cock moves faster still. I can hear his breathing growing ragged.

  The hand on my breasts starts to squeeze more roughly. Hard, even. I let out an involuntary yelp of pain and try to draw back, but his fingers hold fast on my nipple and pull it harder still from my own reaction.

  Then, to my surprise, he leans forward in his chair and his cum, hot and thick, shoots out in a strong rope that paints a white line across my chest. I look down at it, disturbed and disgusted and afraid.

  I look up at him. “Is that good enough, sir?”

  He smiles at me, his grin hard and mirthless. “You did wonderfully.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a thick leather wallet. Then he reaches inside and pulls out a green bill. He hands me that and a couple pieces of tissue paper.

  It’s not until I’m putting my bra back on from the floor that I realize what he handed me. $100 is nothing to sneeze at. I look back a
t him and he smiles.

  “The stick works best with a carrot on the other end,” he says. “You’re free to go whenever you like.”

  Five

  Jasper

  “So do you want to run that by me again?”

  Life had changed. At least, I thought of it as having changed. But there’s one thing that I know, and that is that when it rains, it pours. There’s another saying, almost the opposite: the more things change, the more they stay the same.

  I can’t agree with that. After all, if that was how things were going then I wouldn’t have gotten this call from my Dad’s lawyer.

  “I… look, can you just come in, or maybe I could send my assistant by to explain things?”

  I close my eyes and pinch my lips together, trying to cope with the frustration. Trying not to feel frustrated at all, if I can help it.

  “Sure. Let me get my coat. I’ll have my secretary with me, to get a dictation.”

  I don’t know if Cait is even capable of taking dictation. At least, not in real-time. But she can hold the recorder, right?

  “You got it. I’ll have a pair of guest badges waiting for you at the counter. Just tell the desk guard your name and that you’re coming up to talk to me.”

  I nod. He can’t see it, over the phone, but that’s what it is.

  “I’ll see you in a little while, I guess.”

  “Thank you again for your time. And again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it at all. He can be sorry, but I don’t feel much of anything at all. I just feel like I’ve been tricked or something. Like someone’s going to jump out with a camera and shout that I’ve been Punked.

  I tap the button on my desk.

  “Caitlynn?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I need you to come in here a minute. Grab your coat, while you’re at it.”

  She appears a minute later with a coat draped over her arm.

  “Sir?”

  “Field trip. I’ve got to go meet with a lawyer on a… uh… personal matter.”

  “Sir?”

  “Don’t worry about it too much. Just come along. I need the whole thing recorded, and I’d rather not have to think about it myself.”

 

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