Poor Eric, he only knew what Gina let him know. There on his knees kissing her boot, absorbed in sexual submission, seduced by surrender, Eric had no idea how lost he was. All he knew was that he had screwed up. He had gotten himself fired. That was a disaster; he had lost his six-figure income, and he had no idea how to recover. Worse, he had been fired for sexual harassment, and Gina had found out.
Eric had been on the job only a few years and he was already a top salesman, hot stuff, and buddies with the boss. He sold supplies to the military, things like the infamous five hundred dollar toilet seat. Eric didn't sell the big high profile stuff like aircraft; rather, he exploited the huge profit margins to be reaped on specialized orders for ordinary stuff made to look special. He sold things like semi-trailers full of biodegradable, women and minority contracted toilet paper. He sold off-the-shelf stuff repackaged as low volume custom-made parts. Mostly that involved changing the price tag. It was all legal; Eric knew the rules.
But more than knowing the rules Eric knew how to exploit the military brass. Eric knew all about entertaining his clients. Eric provided women and excuses to horny, grateful procurement officers and Department of Defense bureaucrats as he sold outrageous amounts of product at outrageous prices. Hammers, screws, award metals, magazine subscriptions, tampons, gas masks, hamburgers—it was all a gold mine. He was young, good-looking and rich. Women loved him. His colleagues were in awe of him. Except for the boss, none of the guys at the office had any idea what made Eric such a great salesman. He came and went as he pleased, and he spent little time confined to the office.
Eric's sales methods were highly unethical, but very successful. Most of the guys buying the stuff were bored, repressed and horny, and the occasional women buyers were usually lesbians and also bored and horny, but perhaps not so repressed. Eric knew just the right woman to make each buy-guy or buy-gal happy. He knew lots of girls in the entertainment business, including strippers who usually didn't do prostitution, but who were trained professionals in driving men crazy. These girls were Eric's friends, he paid well, and they would do almost anything Eric asked.
Usually this meant getting the client comfortable, followed by straightforward x-rated entertainment like rubbing big tits in the guy's face, hiking up short skirts and sliding fingers into slick, shaved pussies, or a girl on girl suck fest that transformed into a frolicking dick sucking threesome. Maybe Eric would start the client off with a round of golf and a few drinks in the clubhouse. Then it was up to the hospitality suite where Eric discreetly exited and left the buyer to his special assistant, or several assistants for those who might enjoy a three-ring circus. All the brochures were there and all the contacts were ready for signature. Eric's inside joke with his girls was that he paid a bonus if they could get the client to fuck them on a table on top of the signed contract. Come stains did not invalidate the deal. A good time was had by all.
However, sometimes more imagination was needed. One particular guy was an uptight born-again Christian who was trying to save the world. Eric didn't think he could play this guy at first, until he introduced him to his most creative girl, Shyanne. Shyanne? Her trailer park Mom couldn't spell.
Shyanne was a long time call girl, and a frustrated actor. She had done some work in porno films where her fair skin, blue eyes, and thick, silky, blond hair—and beautifully done silicone boobs—commanded a premium. Shyanne loved putting on a raunchy sex show. Although Shyanne generally acted like a foul mouth hard ass, Eric knew that she could play the sweet innocent.
Eric told Shyanne to get as clean and bright as a Mormon on Sunday, and he then introduced her to the Christian weapons buyer as his secretary. Shyanne walked into the room in Sunday-go-to-meeting high heels and a flowery sundress with the belt cinched tightly around her tiny waist. Her bosom bulged behind a modest, frilly front. The good Christian melted when she knelt down beside his chair, handed him some critical documents that he should have scrutinized, and, batting her eyes, tenderly pleaded, "Here, sir, maybe these papers will help you. Eric says you are a man of the Lord. It gives me great comfort to know that there is at least one man of God looking out for our boys out there on the front line. Please, excuse me, but well, some the other procurement officers are, well, it is just that sometimes they seem so course. It is good to know that a godly, refined Christian such as yourself is in charge. If there were anything at all that I can do to help you, I would be honored. Truly, I would."
It may have been the bulging bosom, it may have been the big blue eyes, but when the good Christian looked at the beauty kneeling at his side he knew what had to save next, and it wasn't the taxpayer's money. For maybe a year, repeated sales of excessive military junk went well. The good Christian earnestly tried to save Shyanne while Eric made a small fortune. Unfortunately, the whole thing came to a messy end when the good Christian announced that he had dumped his wife and he asked Shyanne to marry him. Shyanne was appalled, and Eric had to concoct an elaborate lie to get rid of the horny fool.
Eric rewarded Shyanne by hiring her to be his real secretary. She wanted to get out of prostitution, she was bright, cooperative, and now well off from the profits Eric shared with her, so this seemed a perfect arrangement. Shyanne happily did Eric's bidding, setting up whores for his clients, setting up dates for Eric, and sucking Eric's dick whenever he wanted. Shyanne had nothing to do with other employees in the company, first because she had nothing in common with them, and second because Eric could have blackmailed Shyanne with her past. Shyanne worked for Eric and no one else. Shyanne genuinely liked Eric and was his comrade in arms against the rest of the world. For Eric, life was good.
