Financial disaster and a deal with a corporate female devil
(Note to readers; the adventures with FD Corp have a little bit more artistic license, but are still loosely based on people and experiences from my life.)
Just when you think that life is going along just fine something happens that kicks you right in the teeth, or in my case, the crotch.
I was chilling in my dorm room when the phone rang. It was Miss Cashman at the college financial aid office.
"Hi Randy, something's come up and I need to see you right away. Can you come to my office now?"
I could tell by her tone that something was very wrong.
"Uh, sure, I'll be there as soon as I can."
I pretty much ran all the way. When I got there Miss Cashman had a pretty grim look on her face.
"Randy, you'll be receiving a letter in the mail soon, but I wanted to give you this news in person."
I felt myself gulp. This promised to be very bad news.
"The company that funds your scholarship has gone under and it looks like no one is coming forward to pick up the contract."
I thought 'oh shit, oh shit oh shit! What the hell am I gonna do?'
"Oh gawd, Miss Cashman, I don't know what to do. There's no way I could get a job that would give me enough hours to pay my tuition and still make my class schedule. I'm gonna have to drop out and go find a job. But those jobs won't be nearly as lucrative as the jobs I could get once I graduate and have my degree. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
She could see the panic on my face.
"I understand, Randy. You're a good student, doing very well in your I.T. classes. You would certainly have a bright future. I'd hate to see you have to lose your momentum by dropping out. Before you ask, I have looked around to see if there way any other kind of funding or financial aid you would qualify for, but there's just nothing. I've been told that it's the wrong time of year, all their programs are full right now and I've gotten nothing but negative responses."
"Damn, damn, damn!"
She looked at me with what I could only describe as a 'Cheshire Cat' grin. I felt my butthole clench.
"I may have a solution, but it might be considered very radical."
"At this point I'm open to any suggestion."
"Very well, but before I continue I need you to sign this non-disclosure agreement."
I wondered what the hell kind of scholarship program could be so secretive. This seemed vaguely sinister.
"Yeah, sure, at this point I'll do anything."
I would come to regret that statement. I took a quick look at the paper and signed. I figured that I had both nothing and everything to lose.
"There is a corporation created, owned and run by women exclusively. Only a few select individuals even know about it."
As she spoke I noticed her toying with a small lapel pin. It had some sort of logo, but I couldn't make it out.
"They are working on a pilot program that would involve a young man such as you being placed in some unconventional situations. If you qualify the corporation will fund your tuition, housing, and food and living expenses until you graduate. Are you interested?"
"Hell yes, what do I need to do? What is this corporation?"
"I'm not at liberty to tell you more. The first step is to fill out this psychological profile."
She reached in to her desk and handed me a large envelope.
"It is imperative that you answer all the questions completely and honestly. You may not show or discuss this profile with anyone, even me. Return it to me as soon as you have it completely finished and we can proceed from there."
I was feeling dazed and confused. I didn't see what else I could do. I thanked Miss Cashman and headed back to my dorm room.
There was something odd about this so-called psychological profile. Mixed in with normal questions about likes and dislikes, favorite color, foods, activities etc., were some very blatantly sexual questions. 'Did I enjoy being looked at naked? How often do I masturbate? Would I masturbate in public? Does the thought of being tied up arouse you? What are your attitudes about powerful women? What sexual activities would you be willing to perform? What sexual activities would you absolutely not be willing to perform?' I confess as I tried to answer the questions as truthfully as possible I felt a stirring in my groin. I stripped off my briefs to give my junk some room to expand. The questions had given me a hard-on. I found myself half-consciously beating off while I finished the profile. I should have taken that as a warning. It was early enough in the day that I hustled right back to Miss Cashman's office and handed her the forms.
I wondered what I was getting myself in to. It turns out that I didn't have long to wait. Two days later as I was out for my usual afternoon jog across the quad I saw Miss Cashman flagging me down.
"Randy! Randy! they are very interested in meeting you about the pilot program and your scholarship. They want to see you right away, now!"
"That's great news! I'll head back to the dorm and shower and change..."
Miss Cashman cut me off
"No, Randy, you are told to come exactly as you are."
"But I'm all sweaty and I'm just wearing my running shorts." It was a warm day and I was jogging shirtless in very short, thin running shorts that had just a mesh liner to hold my cock and balls. I wasn't wearing a jockstrap or anything.
"Exactly as you are..." Miss Cashman repeated and handed me a slip of paper with the address.
It seemed to be a building that was not at all far from campus. I figured I'd better hurry so I ran all the way. I arrived and went to the reception desk.
"Hi, I'm Randy Summers. I was told to come..."
The female receptionist, a rather plain, bookish type gave me a rather bored look and buzzed a phone extension.
"Ms. Stone, your appointment is here."
She pointed to a door and waved me off. "Go right in."
I entered the office. The woman behind the desk was attractive, but formidable. I'd call her a MILF. She was in a very typical corporate power suit, her hair was pulled back. She did not get out of her chair to greet me. She exuded power.
"Randy. Thank you for coming so promptly. I appreciate punctuality."
I was dripping with sweat and still panting a bit from my run. She looked me up and down. Her eyes seemed to linger on my shorts.
"I'm sorry that I'm all sweaty and not dressed..."
"You were out for your usual jog. How else should you look?'
She knew that I would be jogging at that time?
She motioned for me to sit down. It was one of those modern arm chairs made of clear acrylic. In fact, the whole office looked very state-of-the-art.
"Before we continue, I must have you sign another non-disclosure agreement. It is similar to the one you signed for Miss Cashman. Nothing we discuss can leave this room or legal action will be taken against you." She slid the form to me.
I hesitated for just a moment before I nodded and signed. I still figured that I really had no other options.
"I represent the FD Corporation. FD stands for 'Female Domination'. In recent years more and more women are rising to positions of power in the corporate world. We have highly placed women in business, finance, entertainment, the arts, almost any field you can think of. With those positions of power come increased levels of stress. This is where you come in. For many years, powerful men in business have taken advantage of women in the workplace and in other social situations subjecting them to verbal and physical abuse of all kinds. Thankfully nowadays this behavior is more and more frowned upon. However, these kinds of inappropriate behavior are also a great stress reliever. I am responsible for a pilot program that will allow a woman to engage in inappropriate behavior with a man without the fear of legal repercussions."