Click And Collect The Prenup

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

[Recap: Tom and Hayley offer a very specific personal service, turning people into living items of furniture, as a side hustle to their day job at Harbinger's Home and Garden store. Their commissions have been getting more elaborate recently.

This story is also submitted to the

On The Job Challenge 2023

.]

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CLICK & COLLECT: THE PRENUP

Hayley and I rode up in the elevator, the cabinet strapped to its trolley between us.

"I'm just not sure about this one," she said, breaking the awkward silence.

"It's just a job," I replied.

"It's never just a job, Tom, not with what we do."

The elevator slowed to a halt and then pinged. The doors slid open. Hayley helped me tip the cabinet back and wheel it out onto the office floor.

"Even just where we're doing it. It's all weird," Hayley continued.

"You want to maybe leave this one to me? I can do the delivery and the installation."

"No, we're a team, right? I'm staying."

Hayley hesitated, her beautiful green eyes flicking between the cabinet and me. I could see the reluctance.

"Hey, it's a lot of money. It's a good job," I said.

"Yes, we're getting money, but that doesn't make it a good job."

"Then what does?"

"Consent."

"There's consent. I'll make sure."

Hayley wrinkled her nose, tying back her long auburn hair in a ponytail and then winding it around itself until she could pin it in a bob, out of the way.

"There'd better be, Tom."

Without another word, she stepped forward to knock on the large double doors in front of us. We waited in silence, and then there was a rattle as the doors were opened by a man in his mid-forties: thin, with a neat haircut, side-parted. He was well dressed in a white shirt, suit jacket, trousers and leather shoes like it was a workday rather than the weekend.

"Good, you're on time. Please, come in. Put the cabinet against the wall."

We entered what must have been the boardroom. It was dominated by a long table in richly-polished wood, flanked by more than a dozen chairs. Beyond were floor-to-ceiling windows with a view out across the city. The sun was lowering towards the horizon, glinting off the mirror-glass surfaces of the other buildings. I wheeled the cabinet to the indicated spot and set it down.

"Now, if you could just wait in the galley?"

He indicated a door in the opposite wall, next to a serving hatch. I nodded and we went through. Once inside, I closed the door and turned off the light. The space wasn't large, just big enough for two people to work the oven or plate up on the stainless steel benchtop that ran the length of the wall. The only illumination was from the glass-fronted cabinet against the far wall. Hayley crossed over to it and opened the door.

"Wanna drink?" she asked.

"No, I'm good."

"Please yourself."

She extracted a can of lemonade and closed the door again. There was a snick as she popped the can open.

"Still think this is all okay?" she muttered in a low voice.

"Yeah."

Hayley regarded me for a moment, then pulled herself up onto the benchtop, crossing her legs in her little skirt. She was wearing high heels, I noticed. It was always the high heels when we were contracted for a job. I pulled up next to her, sitting side by side in the dark. The serving hatch was ajar, giving us a view of the man who was paying us, letting us watch him as he paced up and down.

He stopped suddenly, turning.

"Rebecca."

"Am I early?" a woman's voice asked.

"No, you're right on time."

He opened his arms and a woman came over to him, taking him up in a hug. She was dressed in a neat blouse and a skirt, her blonde hair gathered back in a butterfly clip from a strikingly-beautiful face. She kissed him on the lips, then drew back.

"So, what's with all the cloak and dagger, darling? Couldn't you have just told me at home?"

"No, sorry. It's a board matter."

Rebecca looked around the room.

"Where are they then?" she asked, frowning.

"We're just waiting."

Rebecca ran her hand across the table, the light catching the sparkle of an outsize diamond ring on her finger. She gave her husband a smile.

"I always enjoy being alone in the boardroom, Duncan," she murmured.

As she spoke, she settled her bottom on the edge of the table, her skirt rising up slightly to give a glimpse of toned thigh. She wriggled a little, as if getting comfortable, her rear sliding a little on the polished wood.

"It always feels like fun when we're alone in the boardroom. There's just something about this room. The high-power decisions, the testosterone. It's in the walls."

"What are you saying?"

"Oh come on, don't you feel it, just a little bit?"

Her fingers played with the hem of her skirt, raising it fractionally higher up her shapely leg. Her other hand went to her neck, tracing around the necklace, a finger over her skin tracking down to the first button of her blouse.

"There's so much fun you can have."

There was a sound of a man clearing his throat, and the couple turned to look back towards the doors. A younger man approached them, holding out his hand for a handshake.

"Mr. Hammond."

"Trent, good of you to come on a weekend. Please, call me Duncan. We can lose the formalities."

They shook hands.

"So, what's this about?" Rebecca asked, smiling sweetly as she slid off the table, her attention shifting from Duncan to Trent, "And when are the board arriving?"

"Take a seat," Duncan replied, indicating the table, then he paused. "Sorry, manners, have you two been introduced?"

Trent nodded eagerly, replying, "Yes. Your wife was actually the one who hired me."

Duncan paused for a moment, and then he nodded.

"Yes, and you've made quite the impact in the Marketing team. You've definitely caught people's attention."

Trent took a seat, his smile faltering slightly.

"That's good to hear," he replied.

"Yes, you've certainly taken to your new position," Duncan said, crossing behind them as his wife took the seat next to Trent, walking out of view.

We heard the sound of the boardroom doors closing. I noted a quick exchange of looks between Trent and Rebecca. She raised her chin, a little smile on her face still.

"Darling, where are the rest?"

Duncan passed in front of us. I felt Hayley jump. He was looking at us through the gap in the serving hatch doors. A cold smile spread across his face. He turned his back on us and took a seat opposite his wife across the table.

"There's no-one else coming, darling."

Rebecca's smile wavered.

"You said it was a board matter."

"It is."

"But the board isn't here."

"No."

"I'm sorry Duncan, I'm not following."

"Any substantial change to the ownership structure of the company is a board matter, Rebecca."

Rebecca's face became solemn. Beside her, Trent frowned, looking from one of them to the other, confounded.

"Why are we here, Duncan?" his wife asked, each word crisp, precise. "Why are we talking about ownership changes?"

"You remember my trip to Berlin last year?"

"Yes. You went to meet a partner company."

"And what did you do?"

"You left me in charge."

Duncan didn't say anything, and all we could see was the back of his head. That, and the faces of the people on the other side of the table.

"You've delegated before, darling," Rebecca continued, "I'm very capable of keeping everything moving in your absence."

"How long was it, do you remember?" Duncan asked his wife.

"Two weeks."

There was silence again, and then I heard a low rustling sound. Duncan was laughing.

"Yes, there I was, trying to build a future for the company, expanding our horizons, making a future for us. You were keeping things moving while I was gone."

"Yes, that's right, I...."

"Two weeks, Rebecca. You couldn't bear just two weeks."

"Wait, what are you...?"

"Trent, you've not had much to say up until this point. I really just want to ask you one question."

Trent's eyes widened, his skin going pale.

"Uh, yeah, sure Mr. Hammond."

"Duncan, remember?"

"Sorry," Trent stammered, "Duncan."

"Let's all stay on first name terms. It's cosier, don't you think, Rebecca? Brings us closer together."

Duncan's attention shifted from his wife to the other man sitting opposite him.

"What influence do you think I have over your career, Trent? How old are you? Thirty? You've got a long road still ahead of you. You fancy yourself a bit of a disruptor? A bit of an action man?"

Trent stole a look across at Rebecca, then back to Duncan. I could almost see the cogs turning in his head. Duncan had hidden us away on purpose, making sure we were witnessing everything that was said.

"I, uh, I suppose."

"So, a good word from me would go a long way to establishing your trajectory."

"Yes."

"And a bad word from me, Trent. What would that do? Knowing the people I know in this city, what would a bad word from me cost you?"

Trent broke eye contact, staring down at the table.

"Quite a risk to take," Duncan continued smoothly, "Quite a trade-off. Your entire future, for what?"

Duncan let the sentence hang in the air, then he gestured at his wife.

"For the CEO's wife? Really? High risk, small reward. It just doesn't seem like sound business, does it?"

"Duncan," Rebecca hissed, aghast, "What are you saying?"

Duncan held up a finger then pointed back to Trent.

"Trent was being asked a question. Let's not interrupt his thought process, darling."

"What are you accusing me of?" she snapped, her cheeks colouring.

"Quiet, please. You don't want to make this any worse. Now, Trent, let's get to it. Let's have that answer. I want to know the spark, the start of it. You can lie or you can tell me the truth."

"Duncan, stop," Rebecca gasped, but he was ignoring her now.

Trent drew in a deep breath, and then sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and began to speak, his eyes never leaving the table.

"It was the quarterly strategy review. We all had drinks afterwards. We got to talking."

Duncan paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair.

"I see," he rumbled, "You got to talking. How did it progress?"

"We went to a bar afterwards. Rebecca said we should do cocktails. I, uh, I went along with her."

"And what happened at the end of the night?"

Trent's face screwed up, but his eyes were fixed on a spot a foot in front of him.

"We kissed. That's all. We just kissed."

"You didn't just kiss though, Trent. That's not true."

"We, oh fuck, yeah, it's not true. But that night, all we did was have a kiss."

"And that's what started it off?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry. Really, I'm...."

"Now the question, Trent," Duncan interrupted, "The one that's going to cost you your entire career if you give me bullshit. Ready?"

"You can't do that," Rebecca interjected, but both men were ignoring her now.

Trent met the eyes of the man whose wife he'd slept with. I found that I was holding my breath, trying to remain absolutely silent. Next to me, Hayley's body was rigid. Everyone was hanging on the next few words from the man in front of us.

"Why, Trent? What made you kiss her?"

Trent's expression became sombre, and when he spoke his voice was strained with the tension.

"Because she's beautiful."

"Not because she's my wife, or a senior member of the management team? Or that she's well connected in the city? You risked everything just because she's beautiful?"

"Smart," Trent murmured, "She's smart and she's beautiful."

Slowly, Duncan got up and made his way over to the windows, coming to a halt in front of the darkening skyline, his hands in his pockets, staring down at the streets below. No-one spoke. Trent's gaze flicked from Rebecca to her husband; he was squirming in his seat, desperate. Rebecca ignored him, her attention was fixed on her husband's back, waiting for his next move.

"The correct answer," Duncan announced, without turning around, "Yes, she is absolutely breathtaking. I knew that from the first moment I saw her. I looked into her eyes and I was lost, right there and then."

Slowly, he turned back to them.

"You can go now, Trent. I'll expect your resignation on Monday morning. I wish you well."

Trent didn't move from his seat, and Duncan shrugged expansively.

"I wish you better judgement, but I can respect the truth. Go."

Instantly, Trent was on his feet, leaving Rebecca marooned on her own at the table. He walked away quickly and I heard the doors open and then close.

"So, darling, to the board matter," Duncan said. "You remember the terms of the prenup?"

"Prenup? What this fuck is this?"

"Swearing. Oh dear, and memory loss too. He must have fucked the recollection of the prenup right out of your head."

Rebecca made to rise from her seat.

"Sit down," Duncan growled, his face suddenly creased with passion, his voice raised at last.

"The terms were simple. You have a share in the family company. A share in my family company. If I activate the prenup, all that goes away. The bank accounts go away. I can leave you on the street, with nothing but cab fare and the clothes on your back."

"You wouldn't dare. You don't have it in you."

"Ah, really?" Duncan replied, but as she glared at him, his voice became softer, the rage leaving his face, replaced by a sullen resignation.

"Really. I know you," Rebecca persisted.

"Try me," he snapped, but the force behind his words was missing.

Sensing a shift in the balance, Rebecca allowed herself a little smile.

"You haven't got that edge darling. There's always that soft centre. It's always been there."

"But, you slept with someone else, Rebecca. You...."

"So?" she shot back, cutting him off.

Rebecca shrugged, not volunteering anything else, letting her husband make the running, but he'd lost momentum now. The element of surprise was gone and his wife had been able to recover her poise.

"So, what do we do then?" Duncan muttered.

Rebecca rose to her feet, her features composed, calm.

"I have a proposal for you, darling."

"I said sit down."

"No, I don't think I'm going to do that. I'm going to give you a proposal instead, and you're going to listen."

"You think you have any leverage in this deal? Do you have anything to bargain with, Rebecca?"

"I just need one thing, darling. You already know what it is, otherwise we wouldn't be here, playing this charade. If you really meant it, you'd have just served the prenup already."

"And what makes you think I'm not going to do that right now?"

"I know you, darling. I know what you want. Only I can give it to you."

"And what would that be, darling?"

"This."

Rebecca began to unbutton her blouse, undressing herself. She let it fall to the floor, exposing a silky camisole top, tight over petite breasts. She reached behind her back and unzipped her skirt, letting it pool around her ankles, revealing trim thighs and toned legs. In her high heels, she took a step towards him, raising the camisole top over her head to reveal lacy panties, stripping herself topless.

Nude except for the lace covering her crotch, she stalked towards her husband, approaching the end of the boardroom table, coming to a halt in front of it. Rebecca perched on the end, the soft globes of her bottom on the polished wood. She leaned back, spreading her legs wider, revealing herself to her husband.

"You said it yourself. You can't resist me. I know what you want, darling, and here I am, all ready for you."

"What about Trent?"

"You got rid of him. He's gone, Duncan. You fought for me and you won. Come and collect your prize."

I watched, spellbound, as Duncan's eyes traced down his wife's body.

"You know how good I can be, babe. You want me to be good for you?"

Duncan advanced towards the supine body of his wife, spread out now on the boardroom table, eyes glittering, waiting for him.

"Remember the first time, darling?" she purred. "Remember when you took me on this same table, right in this spot, back when your father was running things?"

Rebecca reached up, taking her husband's hand in hers, pulling him down towards her until she could press his hand against her breast.

"You remember how naughty we felt, the young upstart fucking his hot new girlfriend in the boardroom? Now, your boardroom. Your wife. I'm so hot for you, babe. Feel how horny I am for you."

She led his hand down until he cupped her crotch.

"Want your prize now?" she cooed, looking up at him.

Duncan slid his hand into her panties and she closed her eyes, arching her back in anticipation.

"That's right," she murmured, "I'm all yours."

A slow, sly smile crept across her face. Duncan's hand was moving rhythmically beneath the lace now. Then it stopped.

"Until the next time," Duncan replied.

He withdrew his hand and Rebecca's eyes shot open.

"What?" she hissed.

Duncan raised his hand to his nose, taking in the fragrance of his wife's scent.

"Tom," he called out, "Can you join us please?"

I nudged Hayley.

"We're on," I whispered.

We opened the door and went out into the boardroom. Rebecca bolted upright, trying to cover her naked breasts with her arms, bewildered.

"What's this?" she screeched, "Duncan, what have you done?"

"Nothing," her husband replied evenly.

"Who the fuck are they? What have you done?" she repeated.

"It's not what I've done, darling. It's what you're going to do for me. Tom, could you show her please?"

We went around the table, Hayley staying close to me.

"This is just a little bit fucked up," she whispered.

I shot her a look. We halted next to the cabinet and I opened the door.

"Why don't you go and take a look?" Duncan asked his wife.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, spurring her into motion. Behind her, the city was dark now, skyscraper floors lit in a harsh monochrome mosaic of fluorescent lighting. She approached us warily, her arms still wrapped tightly around her chest.

"What are you going to do to me?" she hissed at her husband.

"It's not like that, Rebecca. It's what you're going to do to yourself."

Her eyes were fixed on the cabinet now, wide and fearful.

"Why would I?"

"Think of it as the cost of doing business. Specifically, the cost you pay for engaging in the business with Trent."

"But, I told you. I'm yours. I... I showed you. You felt it. You felt how wet I am. You know I mean it."

"You do now, yes. But, tomorrow? What about after that? I hear you, but you need to prove it."

"And this proves it? Really? Fuck. Are you really thinking that?"

"It's your choice. It's the price you pay. Oh, and there's this."

He reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a piece of paper, handing it to his wife.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's a letter explaining your extended leave of absence from the company. You're going to be dropping out of contact."

"For how long?"

"Until you come back."

"How fucking long, Duncan?"

"Until I say you come back."

"You can't just keep me like this. It's inhumane."

"No. Knowing that you mean the absolute world to me and then fucking other people behind my back, that's inhumane. You have a choice. I could just execute the prenup."

Rebecca turned to the cabinet again, and then back to her husband.

"You can't do this to me," she whispered.

Duncan turned to me.

"Tom, I'll leave you to the details. I'll be outside."

His attention flicked back to his wife.

"Either Tom comes to fetch me, or you're the one who walks through those doors, my love. But, if it's you, then you'll need to keep going, down the elevators, out onto the street. I'll leave it with you to decide if you're really actually sorry, if you really do want to change."