I turned back to look at Ms. Teufel in amazement. She had removed her suit coat and hung it on a large clothes rack. Her hands were clasped behind her back, which pushed her starched white blouse out even farther. She stared at me like a cat deciding if she should eat the mouse immediately or play with it for a while.
She walked to one of the closets, opening it to reveal a large selection of whips and paddles. She selected a whip of medium length, then turned and snapped the whip expertly. I jumped at the loud crack, barely muffled by the padding on the walls. She turned to me and smiled.
"Well, Mr. Thomas, shall we explore those alternative services? Needless to say, there will be certain β activities β which you will enjoy more than others."
I thought about it, I honestly did. It was clear that part of those 'services' would not only include being whipped or otherwise tortured, but also sexual adventures with my drop-dead gorgeous boss. But as pleasant as fucking Ms. Teufel might be, or as painful as losing my job would be, I just couldn't imagine being tortured to satisfy the sexual gratification of this devil in disguise. I had never been a masochist in the least, and was certain this beautiful monster would make me pay dearly for the benefits I would receive. She looked at me expectantly.
"No, Ms. Teuful," I said as firmly as possible. "I'm not interested in the deal."
She smiled more broadly, a sexy, lust-inducing smile. She dropped the whip and started to unbutton her blouse, slowly, maddeningly. I wasn't about to stop the show, but I had already made up my mind.
She pulled the shirt tails out of her skirt and spun slowly around, tantalizing me as she removed the shirt. She exposed a silky white bra that pushed up those luscious breasts, proudly displaying her magnificent cleavage. She put her hands on her hips and smirked at me. My lips were dry, and I licked them once, then again.
"No, Mr. Thomas?" she said huskily. "Don't you want the chance to get your hands on these tits, to suck my rosy red nipples, to get down on your knees in front of your mistress and lick my sweet, succulent cunt? And maybe, if you are a very good boy and learn all your lessons well, just maybe you will get to fuck me. Can you give all this up, your job, the pleasures of my body, just to avoid a little pain?"
God, how I was tempted! Maybe just once I could put up with it, just to fondle that unbelievable body, to taste the ecstasy of pumping my hard cock all the way into that bitch's cunt, which I was positive would be just as succulent and tight as she promised. But I just couldn't.
"I'm certain, Ms. Teufel. It's not just the pain, although that's a part of it. It's just that, no matter how weak you may think I am, I'm not going to be anybody's toy, their slave, to use as they want. I'll find another job, thanks very much."
I turned to go.
"Wait!" I looked back at her, expecting her to be angry, to be disdainful, or maybe to try and tempt me again. Instead, her smiled broadened, and she nodded her head very slightly.
"I was hoping you would say that. Maybe we can find another way to make you more useful to the firm β as well as to me."
Not bothering to pick up her shirt, she stepped across to a phone which was hanging by the elevator door. She picked up the receiver and punched a button. "Fawn, come down here immediately. Put all calls back to the receptionist." She hung up and looked at me.
"Frankly," she said, "I wouldn't have minded if you were willing to be my slave. I meant what I said upstairs, about admiring your mind and your work ethic, not to mention your body. I would have enjoyed you for a while, but would soon have tired of you, I'm sure." The elevator doors closed, hardly making a sound. "You're stronger than I thought. But if you're going to be useful to me, to the firm, you need to be even stronger. You need to be a little bit ruthless, to go after clients much harder, to have a certain edge to your business dealings. Maybe we can find a way to teach you a little bit of that ruthlessness."