Why I Love My Job Ch. 05

A few days later I explained to Julianne that we'd be going to a hotel room to meet a female coworker. I told her I didn't expect her to enjoy the experience, but that she'd tolerate it anyway. I also told her I didn't plan to fuck the coworker, but admitted that plans were fluid.

She asked me, very naturally, what was in it for me if I wasn't going to fuck the coworker. I explained that the coworker had a highly placed friend and would be able to provide me with some information, and besides, she'd be naked. Julianne began to ask me what good that did me if I wasn't going to fuck her, until she abruptly remembered she'd also be in the room. She went white with anger and then pink with embarrassment, but nodded. I just smiled.

It's worth making this little aside. A lot of women believe that men, at least the sort of bastard that I am, put women through these experiences for the woman's benefit. We men are supposed to be training them to deeper obedience, or widening their sexual horizons and helping in their self-discovery, or just reinforcing our authority. Maybe there are guys like that, but I don't know any. My motivations have nothing to do with any of that bullshit. I simply want to enjoy women, however I wish to, without getting wrapped up in what any of it means or teaches or implies. I want to fuck beautiful girls. Watching Cheryl masturbate while I slid my cock in and out of Julianne sounded hot, end of story. If Julianne did, or didn't, become bisexual, or become a better "submissive" whatever the fuck that means, or even get off to any of it... not really an issue for me. If I get off, it's a good evening in my book. So, a word to the wiser women: stop assuming sex means anything to a man other than the raw physical act of having your body used for pleasure. That's one hundred percent of what sex is, to a man. Affection is a different topic, and it rocks when you can get both from the same woman, but it's nothing like essential.

Let's put it in perspective. When a girl asks a girl how a date went, it's a two hour conversation and they discuss every emotional nuance, every implication of every word. Eye contact is a fifteen minute topic. Clothing is another thirty, and every sexual or romantic titillation is fully explored, in the context of past conversations and future hopes.

Two guys discussing the same date: "Did you fuck?" "Hell yeah." Then they fistbump and talk about a common hobby and how fucking absurd tool prices are getting.

Get over yourselves, is what I'm saying. If you want a relationship to be more than orgasms, you have to earn it. You don't earn it by whining about what jerks guys are. We already know that. We don't care. Not caring about that shit is the whole point of the Y chromosome and why it rocks to have one.

+++

Chery was waiting in the lobby, wearing heels, stockings, and a red metallic tube dress, short and form fitting. Seeing her gave Julianne an unpleasant shock; Cheryl had been a confidant of Julianne's, not long ago. In the girl world this probably counted as treason or something. (In the guy world, it's business as normal.) Julianne's hello was incredibly cold.

At the lobby desk, we did the Key Protocol. For people not in the Company or Government, the protocol probably isn't familiar. It gets around a simple but very real problem. You want to do something in a hotel room, and it's not something you want the world to know about – which means you don't want it recorded. If you utterly trust the person you're doing it with, it's not a problem. For those of us who are not in a position where trust is ever an option, you face the very real risk that whoever rented the room wired it for video before you arrived. You can't trust them, they can't trust you, so nobody can rent a room in advance. And you can't assume that the hotel staff wasn't bribed in advance, either, so just walking up to the desk together and asking for a key doesn't guarantee much.

So you walk up together and ask for the protocol. It involves a bunch of room keys, a black bag of colored marbles – two red, two lavender – and the two guests and the desk clerk all take a marble, blind. The point is to select one room key, randomly. Usually it starts with eight room keys; the theory being, if you're up against someone who can bribe a hotel to wire eight different rooms, you're up against someone who has so much incentive to screw you that you're an idiot for doing business with them at all.

Cheryl and I had a budding mutual trust, so we kept it to the two key version. Julianne paid for the room, and I reimbursed her. Not exactly untraceable, but better than nothing. We dropped our phones in the hotel safe, and went upstairs.

+++

The door closed, and I tossed Cheryl a chip. She smiled darkly and plugged it into the holo. She tossed one back, and I pocketed it.

"What's... that?" Julianne asked, nervously looking at the holo.

"A video of you getting your brains fucked out, dear," Cheryl said. "Don't worry, though. This stays in my private collection. Mr Gladgrind, sir, the lights?"

"Once you're naked," I said, pleasantly.

"Fair is fair," she conceded. "But I'd like you two to return the compliment."

"You'll see as much of me as you like," I said. "But Julianne is mine and I'll decide how much of what's mine is uncovered." I sat on the bed, and put Julianne beside me. I also took the collar out of my pocket and dropped it in Julianne's lap. She looked at me, expressionlessly, and then put it on.

"You have her well in hand," Cheryl said, softly. "And she's very pretty."

"You're pretty hot too," Julianne replied. Cheryl took it as a compliment, and smiled; only I knew that she'd been subtly insulted. Julianne had talked about poetry at one point. It occurred to me that she might know her way around words and it might be worth listening carefully to her word choices. This was no Suzie.

Cheryl stood in front of me, and slipped her shoes off. Smiling, she slipped one foot into my lap. "The stocking, if you would, sir."

"And the no-touch rule?"

"Oh, this doesn't count," she said, smiling more. I reached over and slid the stocking down her leg, slowly. She shifted the other foot to my lap, this time lightly working my cock with her toes. I could feel a dark and ugly emotion pour off of Julianne, without looking at her. Cheryl could as well, and her smile only got more sensual.

Cheryl was small and exotic, with an Asian face, perhaps mixed with something european to give her larger eyes; and a trim Asian build, but longer legs and a little fuller on top than many girls from that region. She could have been pretty, I thought, but there was something sultry and debased in her eyes, and something a little too calculating about her. But she was sexy. And she knew how to use that.

Both stockings off, she slipped the shoes back on, and then stepped in close, straddling my leg. The dress was metallic and it showcased her nipples very effectively, with a zipper down the front.

She leaned forward, and slowly unzipped a few inches of it, then slid her hands in and caressed her breasts, eyes half closed. "The zipper is yours," she purred. "But don't touch any skin."

I frowned. "You did mention you liked taking charge of your boyfriend. I'm not so much into that. Don't push your luck with me." I pulled the zipper down and unhooked the hook and eye at the bottom, and it fell from her.

She was polished and smooth and hairless, with stunningly large and cone shaped nipples. She looked, I reflected, exactly like what she was – a toy.

She stepped back, and turned around for me, slowly. "I give lap dances," she said, "to my boyfriend. I've gotten very, very good at edging him that way. It's all in the ass. I make him ask to touch my breasts, while I slide back and forth on his cock."

"He sounds like a pussy," Julianne said.

"Oh, he is," Cheryl laughed. "I think that's why I'm here. Mr Gladgrind isn't a pussy and, well, I can't do everything I want with him, but I can watch him fuck you senseless. But fair is fair, Mr Gladgrind. I hear you have a monster of a cock. I want to see it."

"What, this cock," Julianne said, pulling my zipper open suddenly. "This huge thing that he forces into me while holding me down?" She fished me out of my boxers, and stroked it, slowly. "I hate to think what this would do to your little pussy. When he's impatient, it hurts. I beg him to stop. But he knows me. He knows all about my rape fantasies." She got her thumb under the head of my cock, and rubbed.

Cheryl stared at it. Julianne leaned over and licked it. "But I love it anyway," she said. "I love his big, huge, brutal, merciless cock. The more it makes me cry and beg to stop, the harder I come.... Sir, do I have to keep my clothes on? Please, I want to be naked for you. I want to please you. She can't touch you... but I can."

These two were talking to me in name only. It was the battle of the bitches, and I have to admit I was amused at how well Julianne held up her end.

I reached over and began pulling Julianne's clothing off, roughly. I doubted Julianne had rape fantasies, but she'd had no trouble figuring out Cheryl did. "Ouch, sir, please be gentle." she whimpered. I stripped her bare... being rough with her was hot. Cheryl thought so – she was licking her lips, watching.

"Take your pants off," Cheryl said to me, panting a little. "Take everything off."

I pushed Julianne flat on the bed and stood up. Cheryl was maybe 5' 3" in heels, I was 6' 1". I stood over her, close, my cock almost touching her. "Listen to me, bitch." I said. "You want these clothes off, you take them off me. And like you said... no touching of skin. Take them off, fold them nicely and place them on the chair, like a good little service girl."

She nodded meekly, and did exactly that, starting with my shoes and socks, them moving to the suit jacket, tie, shirt and finally the pants and boxers. I wondered which was the real Cheryl, the dominant bitchy man-eater or the docile little doll with rape fantasies. Maybe both. I couldn't decide if that was hot or fucked up. Maybe both.

She looked good, bending over to place my shoes and clothing neatly on the chair.

"Now, Miss Cheryl, you're going to lie on the bed, watch the holo, and masturbate to it. I'm going to sit next to you, and Julianne's going to handle my cock while I toy with her. You won't touch me... or I won't be responsible for what happens to you."

"And you won't touch me," she said. Her eyes were on my hands as she said it.

I hit the lights and started the video. I settled on the bed with my cock near Cheryl's head... and proceeded to make out with Julianne.

Cheryl caressed her body. It occurred to me that she did a lot of this slow, showy masturbation for her boyfriend. It was dull, but it was pure performance art.

"Miss Cheryl. You don't seem to have any idea how the fuck to masturbate. Julianne, show this phony porn actress how real women get themselves off."

I gripped and toyed with Julianne's breasts as she got fingers inside herself. She was panting in seconds, and it wasn't fake. One thing was obvious – as fucked-up as the dynamics were in this room, it was intensely sexual for all of us. Cheryl's eyes raped Julianne, and then her hands settled over her pussy and got down to it. Her eyes drifted to the video... watching Julianne get handled by several men.

It took me a moment to realize that Julianne was staring at it avidly as well. She shuddered as she watched her own reaction to taking cock. And then she reached down and wrapped her hand around my cock, working it, swiftly. "You... you did that to me. You had no mercy," she whispered.

We watched the video. I fast forwarded through the dull parts of the poker game, until the part where I pulled Julianne over the table.

"Fuck," whispered Cheryl, panting. There was nothing artsy about her masturbation now. She stared at the video, stared at my cock, back and forth.... Julianne was panting as well, wickedly turned on by watching her own debasement.

"She's a slut, too, sir," Julianne whispered, cruelly. "She wants your cock, but her boyfriend says no. But she wants it sooo much. She knows if she touches you, you'll rape her slutty little body. Maybe that's why she wants it so bad." Julianne reached over and ran fingernails over Chery's nipples.

"Oh fuck! Make her stop! No touching!"

I smiled. "You said I couldn't touch you. Not a word about her. But don't come, Cheryl. Don't you dare."

Julianne slapped Cheryl's breasts. Cheryl shuddered, eyes closing, then opening to stare at my cock, and at Julianne's hand, glistening and slippery with the precum she'd worked out of me.

Cheryl whimpered. "Not... supposed to... have... anyone else cock...fuck, it's so big... it would hurt me..."

Julianne leaned over and whispered in her ear. "He raped me. He'll rape you, Cheryl. He'll hold you down and force your legs apart and fuck you while you sob and thrash, but he's so strong and you won't be able to stop him from forcing in, over and over, can you imagine the way you'll ache, and then the orgasm... you'll cum around his cock screaming for mercy, while he slaps you and treats you like a plaything, a toy for his pleasure... I know what it feels like. You can't help yourself. He makes you come. Over and over. You'll wake up tomorrow feeling like slutty, slutty trash because you wanted it, you wanted to be used, you wanted to be a fucking dirty whore with your begging aching rapeslit, you'll masturbate over and over tomorrow, you won't be able to stop, remembering how your body came and came and how you wanted his cum all over your body-"

Cheryl sobbed and rolled and wrapped her mouth around my cock. I slammed her on her back, and forced her legs apart, slapping her face when she tried to close them. Then I pounded into her small, thrashing body. She was a tight fit, not that I minded.

"No!" She screamed. "You can't! Not allowed! No, fuck, it hurts, stop, stop! Fuck, no, please stop!"

Julianne trapped her wrists against the bed. She was only barely able to hold her down, but it was enough. I plowed into Cheryl, again and again, watching her convulse.

"Caught. Forced. Raped," Julianne hissed in her ear. "You're going to come, slut." And as Cheryl sobbed, Julianne lowered her head and sucked ruthlessly at Cheryl's nipple. Cheryl arched, trying to force her nipple deeper into Julianne's mouth, but Julianne retreated and licked it, making Cheryl arch more. When she did, Julianne rewarded her with hard sucking... and then I saw the movement of Julianne's jaw, as her teeth sank into Cheryl. Cheryl came, moaning and then crying out, weltering in a dark, unstoppable animal response. I slapped Cheryl's face again, and she just came harder. Pretty she couldn't attain, but she was very successful as a hot little fuck with very dark fantasies. I slapped her upthrust, begging cone of a nipple... and then I needed to come.

Instantly Julianne was up against me, moaning frantically in my ear. "Take me, please don't come in her, it has to be me, please! Please! Please use me."

She didn't need to ask. It was exactly what I wanted. I slammed Julianne down more or less on top of Cheryl and pushed into her, fucking ruthlessly. Julianne sobbed and whispered "Yes, harder! Take me!" and Cheryl was still thrashing and sobbing – I came in Julianne and then all over both of them, and it was like an electric current jolting, through me, over and over. I collapsed, crashing into the bed beside them.

Julianne fell against me and kissed my face over and over, whispering "Thank you... thank you..."

Cheryl masturbated frantically. I chuckled, darkly, and took Cheryl by the hair and forced her face between Julianne's breasts, and then began to spank Cheryl, fast and hard. She fingered herself to a violent second orgasm and then, as I forced a finger up her ass, a third. Then she just sagged to the bed, and her eyes closed. She looked strangely peaceful.

Julianne just hugged me.

+++

"Is she ok?" Julianne asked.

I looked over Cheryl, and then listened to her breathing. I stroked a finger lightly across her upper cheek, towards her eye; her eyelid didn't move.

"She's just asleep. Her last orgasm was like a seizure though, wasn't it. We'll stay until she wakes up. Come with me."

We headed for the bathroom, and I started the shower.

"How did you know I wanted to wash off?" Julianne asked.

"Heh. I don't want her on me, either. But mostly the idea is so she can't hear our conversation. Alright, Miss I-don't-know-anything-about-sex, explain all that."

"Um... a lot of that was instinct, and I have no idea where it came from. But I also told you I was with a girl once. She was kind of like that, kind of into being, well, call it what it is, abused. I didn't like it – I still don't – but I kind of get it."

"But you were willing. I mean you have to hate this whole idea..."

"I do. But then I think about how much trouble she's in and that makes it much better."

"Trouble?"

"You know her phone is tapped."

"Yeah. But it's in the lobby. They didn't hear any of this."

"Uh... they know where her phone is. They know she's at a hotel this evening. It's not hard to guess what that means. I mean, come on."

"Beautiful, I'm sure she turned off the location app."

"Did you just call me beautiful? Is that a step up from pretty?"

I considered that. "Kind of, yeah."

"You're a lot harder to hate that you should be," she said, adjusting the water temperature. "Even after tonight. Thank you for not coming in her. That really would have hurt me, I guess I'm the jealous type... I guess it's stupid to ask if you liked having her. She's so hot. Did you... um... sorry, girl question."

"Do you want the honest answer? And think carefully before you say yes."

She did. "Yes," she decided.

"She is in fact fucking hot. Her rape fantasy thing really got me off. This was kind of a perfect one night stand for me, two sexy girls slutting out over me and jealously fighting for my sexual favors. I mean, shit, of course I loved it. But if you mean her personally... she's not my type. She's got a very fine little staircase but there's dry rot and black mold and other bad shit upstairs, if you get my meaning. Her whole stripper mentality and the big performance she made about masturbating... I've seen more convincing porn. I guess I'd put it this way – there's a lot you don't know about sex, but everything you do is totally genuine. I deal with backstabbing people with agendas all day long, but you're upfront and real and even a little innocent and you have no idea how much that appeals to me. But, um, heartwarming confessions of my interests aside... back to the phone thing."

"Yeah, the phone thing. The GPS doesn't matter. When she walked into the hotel the hotel's local network would have picked her phone up. It's tapped, so it would have reported the new network. They know she's here."

I went cold. "Julianne, is my phone tapped?"

"Um... when I get to my phone I'll check. Why would it be?"

I hadn't told her that Suzie mentioned there was an investigation of some kind into Cheryl's dealings and that I was likely being investigated as well.

"Because I know they were looking into Cheryl's activities, and they're almost certainly watching me too."

"And you came here anyway? With your phone? I mean never even mind your phone, there's a camera in the lobby. They'll know she's here and when, and they'll just check the video. They'll see the three of us together. You've been made, sir. We all have. So... how does this work? I guess her boyfriend is some big deal in the company. Does he punish her... or does he just slap her skank whore face for her, and then come after you?"

"You have asked the big question, sweets. Her boyfriend is high up in the hierarchy, and I don't know how high. And she seems to be a little psycho. Shit, given all this there is no way she gets to keep that video of you."