by J. Sselxuyt
Debbie Jones is the last one to enter, and after sharing that kiss with the large Guard Lansbury, I look at the slightly chubby coworker in a different light. She’s by no means ugly, but does have some rather nice curves to her. I wonder if she kisses as well as Lansbury?
Debbie gives me a shy smile, and I realize I’ve been staring and try to bury myself in my work. As I continue to compile data from various spreadsheets, I can feel my vitality draining. I also note that both Debbie and Ms. Lance keep staring at me. The drain isn’t great, but it is noticeable. AnnaBelle studiously ignores me.
‘Blue haired, and pierced, huh?’ A popup says on my desk. I see it’s a message from Johnson. Smiling, I nod to the older man across from me. ‘Lucky!’ is his next reply.
Guard Lansbury walks in, holding something, and leaves it at Sheila’s desk. The guard gives me a very obvious wink as she walks past my desk. I can literally feel AnnaBelle’s glare against my back.
“Mr. Snow, can I see you up here?” Ms. Lance states firmly.
Great. . . . Did Sheila see those messages from Thomas?
As I walk up to her, I see my wallet sitting on her desk. How’d that get here? Then I see the look in Sheila’s eyes. . . . Oh, great. Now I’ve really pissed her off.
Wait, maybe this is a good thing. If she gets pissed off at me enough, she’ll fire me and then I can still claim I was living normally.
“Mind explaining how you got into the building without your wallet. Or ID?” she demands of me.
Now’s my chance. Puffing out my chest, I look her dead in the eyes and say in my most pompous tone, “I walked in through the doors. Is there supposed to be a back door for us flunkies?”
Sheila’s jaw tightens, and I can see she’s shaking from trying to hold in her wrath. I hear a number of gasps from behind me, at my audacity.
“The Devil’s work,” a mumbled voice says, but it can only be AnnaBelle.
My boss gets herself back under control, grabs my wallet, and stands up. “Come with me, please, Mr. Snow.”
I let my smile show at her back as I follow her out the door and into an unused conference room, far enough away from our office that I’m sure my soon-to-be previous coworkers won’t hear her yelling at me. Or anyone else for that matter.
“Mind explaining yourself in there?” she asks me, her tone level. Her brown eyes are trying to bore into me, and I can feel my energy levels draining further.
Just then I get an idea.
I know I shouldn’t, but after putting up with Sheila Lance as a boss for around a year now, I want to get some of my own back. I’m not entirely certain how my ability works, but if I keep myself under control, I shouldn’t hurt her. Maybe I can even give her some energy instead.
At least, I hope I can.
Today, she’s wearing a dark suit jacket over a white button up and dark flowing pants. Her black hair is tied back in its usual bun. I can’t help but wonder if the reason she’s always so ornery is because her hair gives her headaches.
“No explanation’s needed,” I tell her, concentrating on her body as I speak and allowing my instincts to take over. I notice a slight shiver run through her. I also notice a depreciable drop in my stamina.
“You’ve been with us for some time now, haven’t you Mr. Snow?” Her voice sounds a little husky now, but I can still see anger smoldering inside her brown eyes.
“I’ve been working. . . under you. . . for a little over a year,” I tell her, concentrating on the innuendo, and sensing her body becoming more receptive to me. Am I becoming a succubus? Is there such a thing as a male succubus? I’ll have to look that up later.
I notice her eyes dilating as she contemplates me, tapping her finger on my wallet. “That still doesn’t excuse your behavior in there.”
Turning my back on my boss, I go and lock the door. I crank up my concentration on Sheila. “I think I know what this is really about,” I tell her, and notice her eyes glazing over. Oops, maybe too much. I back off a little, and just in time, too as true weariness starts to worm its way in.
She gives herself a shake, before saying, “M—Mr. Snow. What do you think you’re doing?” She tries to protest as I walk over and start undoing the buttons on her jacket. She doesn’t try to stop me though, and it only takes a couple seconds to get it off. “This is highly inappropriate,” she tells me, but her voice is barely a whisper and her eyes are closed.
Continuing to follow my instincts, I harden my voice and command her, “I don’t allow my slaves to talk, unless spoken to.” Her eyes snap open, and I can see the anger attempt to reassert itself, but by now her shirt is unbuttoned and I tweak one of her nipples through her bra. She shudders again, closing her eyes. “That’s right. I’m going to make you my own little cum slut.”
I’ve never treated a woman like this before, but everything inside me is pushing me to keep going. By the way she’s reacting; I think I might just get away with this.
“But. . . I’m your boss,” she almost whimpers, then moans as I twist her other nipple.
“Hmm, you have a point,” I concede as I slip my hand inside her bra, and gently rub her tender areola. “In front of others, you will continue to be my boss. But when we’re alone, you’d better return to being my submissive slut. I’d recommend, however, that you treat me a little better out there, lest I have to exact harsher punishments from you.” Unsnapping her bra, I finally get a good look at her bare chest and smile. Her nipples are both hard and pointing straight out from her chest. Her ample bosom is likely about a C-cup, some part of my mind informs me. “You will find I can be a gentle master, but only to an obedient slave.”
I walk around behind her and marvel that I have this high-and-mighty woman at my whim. Not yet, some part of my subconscious informs me, and I realize that there’s one more formality.
Reaching around her waist, I undo her pants, and gently slide them down her hips. Standing back up, I gently kiss the back of her neck, while lightly running my fingers up and down her arms. Her entire body is shivering now, and not from any cold that might be in this conference room. Slipping my right hand into the front of her black panties, I pinch her outer labia together, and then rub them against each other, eliciting a moan from her. I can feel how hot she is already, and know now is the time to ask my question.
“Are you going to be an obedient slave? Or am I going to need to punish you first?” My voice, whispered directly into her ear seems to spark one last bit of defiance.
“I am your boss, Mr. Snow. I will not be—“ I cut her off by pressing hard against her slit, and painfully tweaking her left nipple again.
“Looks like you will need some training,” I tell her as she gasps in both pleasure and pain. I walk us over to the massive conference table, and bend her over it.
“What do you think you’re—“
Whack!
She howls as I spank her, but I know there is still a bit of fight in her as she resists me pulling her wet panties off.
Whack!
Her panties are now on the floor, and I can see a red hand print on her left buttocks. Some inner part of me feels bad for this woman, but then I remember all the times she’s chewed me out, or given me impossible deadlines and slap her other cheek.
Whack!
I can now smell the unmistakable musk of a woman in heat, and ask, “Are you going to be my obedient slave now?”
She whimpers as she nods, but that’s not good enough.
Whack!
“Say it, so that there can be no misunderstanding, Sheila Lance.” There is an odd sensation in the air as I use her name, and it actually feels like it settles into my boss.
“Yes! I will be your slave,” she cries out, and I’m thankful that she chose a conference room far from any other offices.
“What else?” I ask, and lift my hand. I have no further intention of spanking her, unless she pushes me to it, but a little motivation won’t hurt.
“I’ll be your obedient little cum slut,” she
says hurriedly. “I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just. . . Just please, master, command your slave. What can your slave do to please her master?”
If I hadn’t already been rock hard, hearing those words would have gotten me there. I bring my hand down and she flinches, but I don’t strike this time. Instead, I gently rub her red rear. I do this for a couple of seconds, but a weakness in my knees informs me that my energy levels are getting low. It probably doesn’t help that I got no sleep last night, either.
Dropping down behind her, I say, “My slave deserves a reward for being obedient.” Licking her from slit to asshole, I make her moan in further anticipation. Reaching between her legs, I place my right thumb at the nub of her clitoris, and shove my tongue as far into her as I can.
She cums instantly and I feel new strength flood into me. I continue to apply pressure to her clit, while simultaneously throwing up a mental wall, blocking further energy from leaving her. I don’t need too much from her right now. Perhaps if I just sip a little off each orgasm, I won’t really hurt her.
She continues to writhe on the table, moaning loudly, and I realize I’m still pressing hard on her sensitive point. Standing up, I back away from her, and sit down on the largest chair in the room. She quickly turns and looks at me, wondering what I have in mind next. Is that hope in her eyes?
“I want my slave to please herself, while I watch,” I tell her with a smile. “Please me with a good show, and I’ll reward my slave.” I emphasize my words with a grab of my crotch.
Without any hesitation, she jumps onto the edge of the table, and displays her wet pussy to me. She is completely clean-shaven, and I wonder if it’s just coincidence, or if she’d planned on being with someone else tonight?
Regardless, she’s here now and smiling at me. I smile back while she spreads her lips with two fingers, and uses another to rub up and down along her clit.
My cock is straining at my pants and I pull it out, lightly stroking it. As soon as it pops free, Sheila licks her lips, giving it a hungry stare. She jumps off the table and approaches me, but I stop her.
“Uh-uh. I told you to give me a show, then I’ll reward you.” She pouts for only the merest moment, before turning around, bending over, and slipping two fingers into her wet snatch. Sucking her social finger into her mouth, she lubes it up, before reaching behind her, and slipping it into her anus. “That’s right, slave. Show me how slutty you can be. Get yourself off, and I’ll let you lick my cock.”
She smiles at me between her slender ankles, and starts to go wild on her fingers. Her ample breasts are bouncing in rhythm to her left hand diving in and out of her coochy, while her right finger teases her puckered hole. She continues this until her knees buckle, and she collapses on the floor, quivering and moaning in orgasmic delight.
Once again I feel energy leech away from her as it flows into me, but I block it after only a little bit, and just enjoy the show. Perhaps my new abilities won’t be so bad after all. As long as I keep myself in check.
“It’s time for your reward,” I tell her, standing up, and walking towards her. She’s immediately on her hands and knees, practically begging for my cock.
“Thank you master for rewarding your slave!” she moans as her hands grip my hips, and pulls me to her.
I tap the head against her forehead, and she impales her mouth along my rod. Her tongue ravishes the underside of my penis, while she strives to get as much of me down her throat as possible. As had happened with Becky last night, somehow she manages to get all of me into her throat. I’m so turned on by everything that I can already feel my culmination coming. I grab the back of her head, holding her down on me as I fire off powerful gobs of my goo directly into her stomach.
Power once again streams into me, and I realize she must be coming again, too, but I don’t have enough spare thought to block any of it as my own bliss overwhelms me. I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point I come back to the land of reality, and find I’m sitting back in the comfortable chair, with my newly acquired slave still sucking on my now limp prick.
“That was very good, slave,” I tell her, petting the back of her head. “We’d probably better get dressed and back to the office, before anyone begins to wonder.”
I can see she’s disappointed that we won’t be continuing, but she also knows I’m right.
“Don’t let it happen again, Mr. Snow,” my boss tells me as we walk back into our office. She hands me my wallet.
“Yes, Ms. Lance,” I try to act humble, but I can still picture her getting off on her own fingers. I can’t wait until I can drive my cock into her pussy, but it will have to wait.
‘Did she ride you hard?’ Thomas sends to me in an IM.
‘You have no idea.’ I respond. ‘A real ball-buster.’
The rest of the afternoon goes by smoothly, other than catching occasional glances from Sheila that are anything but appropriate. Only AnnaBelle seems to notice anything not quite right, but I dismiss her, until she catches me in the elevator.
“A demon has taken over your soul, Mr. Snow,” she tells me in all seriousness. My first thought is to panic. Had she seen Angela when she’d been in the office? Did she know what’d happened with Sheila and me?
Of course, not, I reason. How could she? The overly religious AnnaBelle Lewis would have said something earlier.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I tell her, trying to stay calm.
“Oh, yes you do,” she denies my statement. “I can sense the corruption in your soul. You need to come to my church this Sunday. That’ll set your head back on straight. Reverend Chilton is a great man, and he can help you.”
Before I have a chance to respond, the elevator doors open and she rushes out. Thankfully I won’t have to deal with her for the entire weekend.
What the hell was that? I wonder. Can she actually sense the changes in me, or is it just her over-zealous religious attitude? I’ve never been into the whole ‘There must be a higher power than me,’ scene, but I can’t help but wonder after that conversation.
“Lyden,” I hear a familiar voice yell, and I turn in shock to see the last person, or rather, persons, I expected to see standing next to the Orange Bubble. “We waited here all day. Ever since we returned your wallet,” Becky says to me, her long chestnut brown hair tied into a braid and flowing over her left shoulder. In this light, I can finally tell that her eyes are a deep dark brown.
“Why’d you leave in such a rush last night?” Lisa asks immediately after, her blue eyes flashing. “We could have had a lot more fun.”
“How’d you. . .?” I trail off as I realize that I must have left my wallet at their place, and they would have known where I work from my ID; which means, they also must know where I live from my driver’s license. “Are you ladies feeling alright today?” I ask, worried after having drained them both of so much energy last night.
“Why? You don’t have a disease, do you?” Lisa demands, and I realize how my question might have sounded.
“No, I was just worried,” I respond, lamely.
“Last night was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Becky says next. “I’ve never felt so satisfied afterwards, but the way you took off, had us worried.” The brunette walks up to me, and places the back of her hand on my head before asking, “Are you feeling okay? Is that why you left?”
“You’re not married, or something, are you?” Lisa demands.
“No, I’m single,” I reply. Or does Angela think we’re a thing? Can you consider one time with a succubus a thing?
Becky tosses Lisa something. By the jingle, I realize that it must have been her keys. “Lisa, you follow us. I’m going to ride with him.”
I want to protest, but something inside me stops my argument. It’s not the same instinct that told me how to deal with Sheila, but something a lot more subtle.
The drive home is thankfully a short one. With my luck in this car, we soon lose Lisa far behind us. My suspicions about them knowin
g where I live are confirmed when Lisa still manages to pull in behind us.
The entire drive, Becky is talking about how worried the two girls had been for me and how happy they are to find out I’m okay. Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out how my wallet got out of my pants at their place. There hadn’t been any reason to take it out there, and I don’t think Lisa’d gotten close enough to abscond with it while I was screwing her friend. How had it gotten out of my pants?
And why are these two women now attached to me? I guess I can kind of understand with Becky, if I’d been the best lay of her life, but Lisa? It doesn’t make sense. At least I haven’t really hurt either one of them.
When is Angela going to get back with some answers? We’d only been gone from the real world for about half an hour, while spending hours in the Shadow World. She must be spending weeks there.
Or has she abandoned me?
“Who are these two?” I hear the sweet dulcet tones of Brooke’s voice, interrupting my thoughts. My heart drops as I realize how this must look to the woman who saved my life so many years ago and who I’ve had a massive crush on since I was old enough to be interested in boobs.
“Brooke!” my voice comes out as a squeak. “This is, erm. . . . I mean, uh. . . .”
“I’m Becky,” the woman has to introduce herself. “You’re gorgeous. How do you get your red hair to shine like that?”
Brooke takes one of her red curly locks and twirls it around a finger. “Something in the water seems to agree with me,” she replies, giving Becky a dazzling smile.
“I’m Lisa,” the blonde steps forward, offering her hand. “How do you get your skin so soft?” she asks as Brooke shakes her hand.
My childhood friend seems to be at a loss for words. Both women are fawning over her. For a moment I actually get jealous. I don’t know if it’s because they’re giving my friend so much attention, or because I’m not getting their attention.
“They found my wallet and returned it to me at work today,” I pipe up, trying to save Brooke.
“And you decided to bring them home?” Brooke asks me, and I can feel my cheeks start to burn. What can I say? That’s almost exactly what happened. “You really don’t have to explain,” Brooke says next. “I’m just glad to finally see you with a woman. . . or two. I was beginning to think you were gay.”
