Everything had been going so well. That night in the city had been a turning point. I told Willy all my newest, most lurid fantasies, and he told me his. We both wanted a lot of the same things, too. We talked about my threesome and gangbang fantasies several times, and how we might make it happen. None of the friends we knew were that brand of adventurous, as far as we knew, but I did suggest a few we might try a threesome with.
For three weeks, I had been trying to restrain my slutty side by denying myself visits to Chris's office, and meetings on Thursdays in the hotel with Fred. That had been the hardest part. I missed it... and him. But I was on a self-imposed deadline. I wanted to confess everything to Willy before my monthly sales meeting in Atlanta, but that was just a few days away.
And then... a sale fell in my lap. Chris and Fred had worked on a client right here in the city, and it was a big one. Chris got the client interested, Fred made the sales call, but the client was getting cold feet. They wanted me to close the deal personally.
I checked myself in the mirror. My hotel room had a great view of the Hudson, and I hoped to have a nice romantic evening with Willy after my meeting. He said he'd meet me for dinner, and we'd see a show after. Then back here for a night of hot sex!
But first, the sale. I chose one of my sales-slut outfits to give myself the edge. Short pencil skirt, thin silk blouse, no bra, garters and stockings, and a brand new pair of FMP's that lifted my ass wonderfully.
"Just a sale." I told myself. "Go in, do your thing, get the signatures, and get out. Piece of cake!"
A knock on the door made me start. It was just Fred. I got my portfolio and opened the door.
Fred was leaning against the opposite wall, grinning like he'd won the lottery. "Wow! Very nice."
"Yeah, well. Don't get any ideas, mister," I grinned. I already had plenty of ideas for the both of us. Damn! He smelled so good, too. We got into the elevator, but instead of going down to the conference room, Fred hit the penthouse floor.
"What are you doing? The conference room is on the second floor."
He nodded. "Meeting was moved. Chris's idea."
"Chris moved it?"
"He said we might need some of your 'magic' to get them onboard." Fred said.
"Magic?" I glanced up at him. "I--doesn't--Chris knows I'm not... doing that anymore. Not until I tell Willy and see where we stand."
"Let's face it, Violet," Fred grinned. "You've already got plenty to confess. Would one more really matter all that much?"
"That's not the point!" I huffed. "I'm trying to do better..."
"You already do it better than anyone I know."
Oh, God! I wanted to drop to my knees and suck his cock right then and there. He always makes me feel so sexy.
Then Fred snapped his fingers like he'd just remembered something. "Oh, and Chris said, it was time to let the Genie out of the bottle... whatever that means. He said you'd understand."
The Genie? Shit. When we fooled around, he sometimes brought up the wish I owed him. He called me his own personal Genie, like the old TV show. I thought he'd request something kinky, but private. Was he planning to claim his wish now?
"It's just business, Violet," Fred whispered.
I must have looked worried. He took my hand, and gave it a squeeze, then the elevator doors opened, and I was in one of the most beautiful hotel suites I'd ever seen. The huge living room had been transformed into a conference room, complete with a long table, chairs, a smart board currently displaying a slideshow of our various product lines, a little table with refreshments, and five men!
I smiled, my stomach fluttering with both guilt and excitement as the men all stood.
"Violet! Right on time, as usual." Chris said, and came to give me a hug, then made introductions all around.
The mature Asian fellow was Hoshi Nakamura, my client. He was flanked on either side by two younger men, still older than me, and none of them Asian.
Dave, a somewhat heavyset fellow with glasses, probably in his late thirties. Greg, a clean cut black man who had a delightful African accent. Trevor, easily as old as Chris with a decidedly English accent, and a particularly firm grip. And Alex, charming, all smiles, closer to my age, and certainly not shy about undressing me with his eyes.
Then Chris led me away and slipped his hand around my hip. "Did Fred talk to you?"
"Yes!" I hissed back. "Chris! I said I was trying to be good!"
He nodded. "I know, Violet. I know... but we need this sale. You need this sale. And you still owe me that wish."
"I thought you might do something a little more... private."
He shrugged. "I thought so too. But then you told me about your night in the city with Willy, your waiter, and his friend, and I... was inspired."
"Inspired about what?"
"My going away present."
"You're leaving?" I asked.
"Retiring... at the end of the year. So, I was hoping you'd grant me my wish and give me a retirement gift all at the same time."
I frowned at him. "What do you want?"
"I want you to make a nice big sale. Shall we?" Chris smiled, let his hand glide down over my ass, and nudged me back into the room. I felt my pulse quicken, wondering what Chris was planning. Between that little teaser, and what Fred told me on the way up here, I expected to have Mister Nakamura's cock in my mouth before the end.
"Gentlemen," he began. "Violet will be guiding you through our Esteem packaging line. If you'll take your seats please."
"Pleasure to meet you all," I said, forcing a professional smile as I set my portfolio on the conference table. The air conditioning raised goosebumps on my exposed skin, and I could feel their eyes on the hard tips of my nipples that tried to poke holes through my blouse. If they hadn't noticed I was braless before, they sure as hell knew it now!
I pretended not to notice. Part of my appeal was this innocent working wife persona that so many of these men seemed to find even more exciting than an overtly slutty whore. It gave them a sense of conquest if they could get me to do things a good wife shouldn't.
As I arranged my samples, I noticed a number of our tags, labels, and boxes displayed on the table, as well as a couple of larger unmarked boxes. Maybe Chris had more samples in those. Then I felt a shiver race up my spine as another thought intruded. What if they contained... something else entirely?
"Before we begin," Chris announced, "I've arranged a special courtesy for our guests. Violet is well known for providing
excellent
customer relations." His emphasis on 'excellent' wasn't subtle. "She's prepared to demonstrate just how...
excellent
her services can be."
My heart hammered against my ribs. This was the wish he'd been planning--not something just for him. He often liked dirty talk when I serviced him in his office, reminding me of the European trip we took when he first pushed me into this crazy lifestyle. He even kept the pictures the photographer took of me on his computer to watch while he fucked me.
I especially liked seeing myself in that BDSM blindfold he put on me, along with the collar and leash. I still quiver when I remember that last night in the hospitality suite. He let all those older men take me into the suite bedroom one by one. They used me in every way imaginable, then led me by the leash back out and gave me to the next. Humiliating. Degrading. And so undeniably exciting! I hate how much I loved it!
The next morning, Chris, Johan, and Fred gave me my first three-on-one gangbang, and I've never been the same since. Now, here I was, in a hotel penthouse suite with seven men feeling like a mouse surrounded by hungry cats. Damn it! I had been so close to confessing everything to Willy. My plan to make him think my sexual obsessions was all his idea had been coming along so well, too.
Chris continued as he walked me with him to the center of the table opposite the men sitting there devouring me with their eyes. He purposely stopped us near one of the opened, unmarked boxes. Inside one I recognized the black and red BDSM 'Pleasure Chest' we purchased in Milan.
"As I'm sure you know from speaking to
many
of our other clients, our manufacturing and printing quality is exceptional. But I'm equally sure that you're more interested in our post-sale customer services," he said as he slid a hand down over my ass, and I stiffened at his bold touch.
Mr. Nakamura leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with interest. "I've heard rumors about your company's unique approach to client relations. I was skeptical, but intrigued."
Fred went over to the box and took out a leather collar with a small silver tag, one of our samples, hanging from the metal ring. It read 'Esteem-Client Services'. My breath caught in my throat. The suite suddenly felt too warm, too small.
"You know I've been trying to be good," I whispered, though my objection lacked conviction even to my own ears.
"And you've been good," Fred snickered as he secured the collar around my neck and fluffed my long hair down my back. Then he gripped a handful, and tugged my head back, growling softly just for me. "And you've been naughty, avoiding me the way you've been."
Chris approached with the leash, and clipped it onto my collar. "I've decided what I want for my wish, Violet," he said loudly for the whole room to hear. His hands stroked down my shoulders, over my breasts, and began unbuttoning my blouse. "Can you guess what it is?"
My heart was pounding in my ears, the hard tip of my breasts straining against the smooth silk of my blouse. The tiny bit of the conservative wife still left in me cried out for rescue, but the newly discovered slut in me was eager to see what Chris had in mind.
