Rules For Spanking: MMF Bisexual Romance
Page 26
“Of course,” he said softly, linking his fingers through hers. “You and me, Mags. Whatever may happen, I’m up for it. And I’m never letting you go again.”
Maggie closed her eyes and quietly listened to his slowing heartbeat. For the first time since she was eleven, she was exactly where she always wanted to be. And drifting off to sleep in her best friends arms, she was finally happy.
Then end.
*****
Spanking Her Curves 4
Theresa McGovern tried not to feel nervous as she opened the door to the corner office. She had arrived a bit early for her meeting with the company consultant, Mr. Cortez. The corporation relied on him to find potential upper management candidates and turn them into true corporate leaders.
There were rumors that his opinion could make or end a career. She didn’t know why he had scheduled this meeting with her. Arriving early, she fidgeted nervously while his secretary politely ignored her anxiety.
As she entered his office, she was immediately taken by a sense of awe. The wall sized windows displayed the entire city. The space was a glittering masterpiece built around exquisitely rich mahogany walls and leather furniture.
It was an office fit for a king. And it fit with the rumors of Mr. Cortez being a billionaire who was intensely private and unthinkably powerful. He seldom met with people directly, usually watching and listening to meetings via webcams. And when he gave his input it was most often by phone or email.
Standing in the doorway, Theresa paused remembering her department’s presentation on the Carter account. It had happened a week before and as the assistant brand manager, Theresa had been allowed to present three minutes of the three hours. She wasn’t sure how she had done but no one complained, so she assumed it went well.
The rumor going around afterwards was that Mr. Cortez had tapped into one of the room’s video feeds. That had to be how he even knew her name. But surely her three minutes had been lost in everything else, hadn’t it? That presentation must be the reason for this meeting, but she couldn’t understand how anything that she said could have resulted in her standing here. No one had ever said that Mr. Cortez fired anyone, but with his influence, he certainly could.
“You can close that,” a cultured baritone voice called out, interrupting her fretting. “We’ll be over here.”
Theresa stifled a gasp and turned to her right. He was seated at a round table in the corner away from the windows. The bookcases behind him made a luxurious backdrop that reinforced his authority. She nodded, swallowed hard, then closed the door and forced her legs to move toward the empty chair across from him.
All of the whispers about Mr. Cortez had focused on his wealth and his power. She had not expected to see someone so young. She thought he might be only a few years older than herself. Clearly a driven man to have achieved so much so quickly.
He was flipping slowly through pages in a slender binder open on the table before him. Theresa took advantage of the moment to look at this living legend so many spoke of but so few had seen.
His black hair was thick and was just long enough to curl neatly over his head. At the temples were a few strands of silver that may have been added to give him an illusion of maturity to reassure clients that might otherwise doubt his capabilities. Certainly, no sign of similar aging showed in his face or hands, which were smooth and even.
As his dark eyes moved across the page, one corner of his full, well-formed mouth lifted in what might be a faint smile or a vague smirk. His charcoal-grey suit had obviously been made for him, not simply tailored to fit. The understated elegance of it made her feel a bit shabby in comparison despite the fact that her own attire was of good quality as well.
Finally he glanced up at her as he turned another page, and that brief look had a force of a command. “Miss McGovern,” he said, as he laid his hand lightly upon the page. The soft blue cuff of his shirt that extended a precise inch beyond his jacket sleeve was secured with ornate links rather than buttons. “Do you know why I was brought in to this company?”
She took a moment to gather her thoughts as he dropped his gaze to the binder again. She glanced at it as well and to her surprise, saw it was her own employee review file. What she had been about to say whirled away in a new flurry of anxiety. Was he going to fire her?
As her eyes darted away, she saw more binders off to the side, other employee review files, all of them in thicker binders than hers, and black instead of blue like hers. She frowned a little. She didn’t know for sure because she didn’t work in Human Resources but she was pretty sure that only managers and above had black binders. Hers was the only blue one on the table.
When she didn’t answer, Mr. Cortez looked up again. “Miss McGovern?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, “You were brought in to help with the restructuring, Mr. Cortez.”
“I am here,” he corrected, “to find the next CEO. Mr. Bell is leaving. One of these candidates will be his replacement.” He closed the blue binder and set it with the black ones. Theresa felt her brows draw together in confusion. Certainly this was some sort of mistake, or a cruel joke being played on her.
“Mr. Cortez, I don’t think I understand,” she said, linking her fingers tightly together in an effort to keep her hands from trembling. “I’m not upper management. Sure, I did well in business school and I’ve dreamed about running a company one day, but…”
The consultant regarded her as she spoke. His gaze and expression seemed to imply that every word was of the utmost importance. When she trailed off, he folded his hands in front of him, his expensive cufflinks displayed as if to remind her what a driven life could bring. “But what, Miss McGovern?”
“But,” Theresa echoed, looking down at her own hands. She couldn’t say it out loud, he wouldn’t understand. Her performance had always been praised and she had always been willing to take on extra work, even beyond the scope of her usual duties. But still, promotions had been slow coming her way. Others that had been hired at the same time had long since become full managers or higher, and even people who had come after her had been promoted past her.
She glanced up and saw that Mr. Cortez was still watching her patiently as if he was willing to give her all the time she needed. It was as if she was an important client instead of just a assistant brand manager who wasn’t good enough to manage her own team.
There was something in his gaze that encouraged her. Maybe it didn’t matter if he didn’t really understand. The unspoken promise in his dark eyes told her he would listen, and not judge her for what she said.
“It’s probably not really the case,” she said softly, forcing her hands to relax somewhat. “It’s just how it feels to me. I’m sure the real reason is there in my reviews. But I hit a plateau in my career, and I’ve been a assistant brand manager for years now. And it feels like…it feels like favoritism, or something…. The people getting promoted past me aren’t better at the job than I am. But they are thinner, and prettier.”
“I see,” Mr. Cortez replied in a noncommittal tone. He waited for Theresa to look up at him again. “Miss McGovern, I examined your employee reviews carefully. There is nothing to indicate any such favoritism playing a part in your lack of advancement.”
“It is just a feeling I had,” she said, barely whispering, feeling incredibly foolish.
“I understand,” the consultant assured her. “Sometimes such feelings can be quite useful in the business world, Miss McGovern. Not everything can be summed up in a spreadsheet or detailed in an operating procedure.” She dared to glance up again and he was smiling slightly.
Theresa’s heart skipped into a faster pace. The same man sat before her, and his position and power were still intimidating, but that hint of a smile, offered to reassure her, forced her to acknowledge what she had tried to ignore. Mr. Cortez was very attractive. And it wasn’t simply because of the suit. He could have easily made his fortune as a model or a movie star instead of having gone into business.
Stunned, Theresa could think of nothing to say as he continued to write. When he finished the list he removed the sheet from the tablet and set it aside then closed the folder again.
“This weekend, as you may know, is a management teambuilding retreat. I will be observing the candidates for Mr. Bell’s replacement there.”
“I’m only a assistant brand manager,” Theresa replied, still stunned. “I’m not invited to the retreat, Mr. Cortez.”
He took up the list he had written. “I see your name on the list,” he said. His tone was simply factual but there was something in his gaze as he glanced at her that made her heart speed up again. “If you would like to attend, you will be invited. The recommendations are up to me, and my recommendation is you should be there.”
She considered a moment. It would be awkward, wouldn’t it? Everyone would know that she didn’t belong there. She always did her best to not stand out in such situations, and at the management retreat there would be no way to avoid it.
Mr. Cortez folded his hands on the table again. “Miss McGovern,” he prompted. “If you were offered the position of CEO, would you take it?”
Theresa looked down at her own hands, and the impossibility of his suggestion nearly overwhelmed her. Attending the management retreat would be a ridiculous embarrassment, but if he felt she should go, of course she would go, although, it was a cruel fantasy to think that of all those other candidates she could be one to replace Mr. Bell.
Her throat tightened and her eyes got hot. Why was he doing this to her? She forced her eyes up to tell him that she wouldn’t go and didn’t like being treated like a joke, but as she met his gaze again, she saw only that patient, almost supportive look.
He had a reason for asking her to attend the retreat. Theresa swallowed and her throat relaxed, her mind calmed as the threat of tears faded. Her plans and dreams of running a company flooded through her, and she nodded. She swallowed again and found the strength to speak.
“Yes,” she said, and her voice was steady as his gaze upon her. “I would. I’ve been working as a assistant brand manager for years but I know the whole corporate structure. I have so much more to offer if I just had the chance.”
The consultant smiled at her then, and nodded slightly. “That’s what I wanted to hear, Miss McGovern,” he said, but she barely heard his words as the force of that smile hit her. It sent a delicious shiver down her spine that tingled through her breasts and stiffened her nipples, and trailed lower, coiling between her legs and making her pussy tighten.
“I can bring out the best in you, Miss McGovern,” he continued. He lifted a hand to touch the blue binder lightly. “I know what has been holding you back and I can help you remove those obstacles to your success. I have been able to help many people like you achieve the things they thought they could never have. However, my techniques are somewhat…unorthodox.”
He paused, and she nodded, only half-listening, lost between a dizzy fantasy of running the company and admiring his gorgeous features as he spoke. “There will be a strict regime of punishment when you do something wrong, but also fine rewards when you do something right. You will not be allowed to discuss these techniques with anyone. Agreed?”
“Yes,” Theresa said at once. If he could make her into the next CEO, there was nothing she wouldn’t agree to.
“Splendid,” Mr. Cortez said. “Then I look forward to seeing you there.”
The charter bus ride to the camp that had been rented for the retreat was, not surprisingly, passed in isolation for Theresa. She was prepared for that, though, and had brought work to do and music to listen to, so it was easy to ignore the way they whispered about her, wondering why she was there.
When the bus arrived at the destination, however, she was not prepared to see it was a kids’ summer camp. As everyone else chattered and collected their bags from the underside of the bus, Theresa lingered by her seat, staring unhappily out through the window.
She’d been heavy as a child, and every summer her parents had sent her to a camp not too different from this one. Not a “fat camp,” exactly…there were no diets or forced exercise or anything like that. But all of the other kids were heavy too, so no one had to feel bad about being overweight. A “chubby camp,” with healthy snacks and easy activities for kids with extra weight to do.
She was the last to get her bags and register, and to be shown where she would be sleeping. At the mention of a “tent” her anxiety worsened, but as she followed the event organizer she saw the tents were actually more like little log cabins, raised up off the ground, with proper doors and windows. The only resemblance to a tent was the peaked canvas roof. As they walked along a path through a stand of pines, Theresa saw most of the cabins had two people settling in, and she wondered who she would be bunking with.
“Here we are,” the organizer said, opening the door of the last cabin on the end. Theresa looked in and saw it was empty. When she looked back at the organizer, the woman smiled. “You lucked out—no roommate. Odd number of participants this time.” She checked her watch. “First exercise in ten minutes, down by the lake. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t be,” Theresa assured her. She took her things inside and put them down. Unpacking could wait. She didn’t need to change, she had dressed that morning for outdoor exercises. She glanced around the cabin, trying not to think about those summers at “chubby camp” and then went back outside.
To the left a few people were already following the path toward the lake. Off to her right, the path dwindled but did not quite disappear, going deeper into the pines. Through the trees she could see other buildings here and there. The building to the right down by the lake was probably a boathouse. The building ahead of her might be a dining hall or craft barn or something like that. It looked like one of those bigger buildings camps had for kids to use in case the weather wasn’t good enough to be outside. And over a bit to the right was the office where they signed in. Behind the office was the lodge where the event organizers would be staying—where the camp counselors stayed while the kids were here.
She turned right, looking at the narrow path. Was that another cabin tucked away back there? She checked her watch. She had enough time to walk a little way up and take a quick look. It was so pretty and peaceful here. No one could blame her if she wanted to take a little walk in such beauty.
Theresa paced quickly along years’ worth of fallen needles, breathing in sweet air and watching filtered sunlight slide across her arms and legs. She didn’t have to go far before confirming there was indeed another cabin further up the path, although it wasn’t a campers’ cabin. It was a proper log cabin, with a mossy roof, a river-stone chimney, and a wide covered porch that ran all around the building. Maybe it was the lead counselor’s cabin or something. She turned and made her way back, arriving at the lake with a couple of minutes to spare.
The event organizers greeted everyone cheerfully then briskly described the first teambuilding exercise. They would form their own groups and build boats to carry two members across the lake. As all the managers started talking, deciding on the groups, Theresa keenly felt how out of place she was. She quietly stayed on the fringes of the gathering.
She noticed the event organizers had earpieces and small devices clipped to the caps they wore, and they scribbled constantly on the clipboards they carried. She realized Mr. Cortez was certainly watching and listening from somewhere. Those things on the organizers’ caps were probably wireless cameras. It only made her more nervous.
“McGovern,” someone called. “
You might as well join us.”
She gave a start then nodded. All of the other groups had already moved away to the beach to begin working on their boats. No one in the group that stood waiting for her seemed particularly happy to have to include her. She kept her mouth shut and stayed out of their way as much as possible as the VP of Marketing took charge, deciding what kind of boat and who would do what.
As Theresa watched, she noticed that the design wasn’t practical. The lead operations manager thought similarly, but when he tried to suggest something better the VP talked over him and insisted they carry on with the plan. As the pitiful vessel took its haphazard shape, the head of Human Resources also tried to point out it wouldn’t work, and she too was ignored. When other teams started getting boats into the water, the VP decided to go ahead and launch theirs as well, despite it not being finished and over the protests of most of the team. The boat sank at once.
Theresa stood quietly as the VP fumed and the rest of the team reacted defensively. When the organizers announced the winning team and assigned points, their team was the only one to get no points at all.
After the exercise they had a little time before lunch and Theresa hid in her cabin. Then at lunch she sat quietly at the end of the table with her group, wishing she had thanked the consultant for thinking so highly of her but no, she was not cut out for this. She barely picked at her food. At the other tables, everyone was chattering happily, recounting the antics that had ensued as they built their boats and tried to cross the lake. But under the VP’s sullen scowl, no one at their table had much of anything to say.
After lunch, as Theresa was about to flee back to her cabin, one of the event organizers caught her first. “Mr. Cortez would like to speak with you,” she informed her. “Follow me, please.”
She followed the organizer to the log cabin she had seen in the pines. The woman left without even stepping up onto the porch, and Theresa wondering what the consultant could want, took a breath and crossed to the door, knocking lightly.