New Hires

Margo stood on the pavement facing an enormous, black building. She stood, shifting her weight from one leg to the other back, holding a coffee in one had while the other nervously patted her hip. She always looked forward to a morning cup of coffee, but today she couldn't bring herself to take a sip. She felt sick from her nerves. Today was her first day at her new job.

She finally elected to toss the coffee in the trash, taking only one small sip from the paper cup. She was already so jittery; she figured a cup of caffeine would make her explode. She felt the cold January air and immediately missed the warm paper cup in her hands. She wanted to make a good impression on her first day. This wasn't just any job; Bartok Industries was a giant in the field.

She had been running a small tech start-up, finding moderate success, when Bartok had bought her out. She hadn't wanted to go through the beginnings of starting a company again, so she didn't think she'd be willing to sell, until she heard their offer. They were willing to pay a remarkably generous sum to buy her company, and to take her on at Bartok in an upper management position.

Her friends had told her not to take it. Well, at least, not to take the job at a company run by some old

man

. They had all insisted that she could start a new, even more successful business! They had said she'd never be taken seriously as a 22-year-old woman surrounded by middle-aged men; that she was 'surrendering her power'.

Margo had responded that Bartok was a modern company that had a great atmosphere, and valued it's employees. While Bartok did have a pretty good reputation, the truth was that she was exhausted. The pressure of running a company, even a small one, was beginning to take its toll on her. Part of her had respect for all the CEOs of the Fortune-500. Even the old men. It was NOT an easy job. Despite what she and her friends had thought back in college.

Still, Margo had defended Bartok with more confidence than she actually felt. She was anxious to make a good impression because this was going to be a new place with new people and first impressions were important. But more than that she needed to set the tone to make sure she was respected by her peers. She would not tolerate any slimy old men calling her 'doll' or making her do secretary work. She had been an accomplished entrepreneur, and just because she was happy to be rid of the overwhelming stress that came with being responsible for an entire company didn't mean that she would demand any less respect.

She repeated her mantra to herself, feeling somehow both more comfortable and more intimidated. Damn, she wanted to smoke. She longed for the all-too familiar feeling of a cigarette between her lips, the warmth of the nicotine in her blood. Maybe she could bum one off someone as they walked in.

No, don't do that. Nothing owns you; not even addiction

Why not? She still had time, and it would really take the edge off.

No, keep your word impeccable,

she thought to her herself.

You promised yourself that you'd quit

She instantly knew that it would be easier to take her mind off of her craving if she still had a cup off coffee in her hand.

Well, nothing for that now.

She stood there, consciously trying to keep herself from swaying back and forth, trying to calm her nerves a little and at least

look

confident. She took several long slow breaths, speaking quiet words of affirmation to herself.

She looked at her watch, and felt that it was finally late enough that she wouldn't be

too

early on her first day. She couldn't stand to wait any longer so she began her march forward along the pavement to the glass doors at the front of the building.

As her heels clicked away the space between her and her new career, Margo found that the building seemed to lose it's power over her; as if it was seeming more and more like a friend. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection from the glass doors. For her first day, she had chosen a very elegant suit that she felt looked professional, while still highlighting her natural curves, and she found that she was very pleased with that choice.

She couldn't help but smile as she opened the front door, wondering what she had been so nervous about.

A tall, brown-haired man stood facing her as she stepped into Bartok Industries. He wasn't exactly good-looking, but not hideous either. He had an athletic build, and an easy, comforting smile on his face.

He extended a hand to her, "Margo Matthews?"

She took his hand, trying not to think about how much of her first impression would be made right here with her first hand-shake at her new job.

"Yes. Hello its' mice to might you. Mice. Ni-Nice to m-meet you." Oh dear god. Margo's smile fell, seeming to run for it's life away from the disaster that was Margo's first impression at her new job.

"I'm Jethro Packer. I'll be working with you for your first couple of weeks. Just to help ease with the transition here. We have a very...specific way of doing things." The man was kind enough to pretend not to notice her fumble of her first words at her new job.

"You can call me Jet." He continued. "Did you have any trouble finding the building?"

Just relax

she thought to herself. Margo forced another smile through her nerves. "It's hard to miss."

Jet chuckled, "Haha, yeah. You know, there were supposed to be other buildings of similar size built in this district. Not sure why, but none of the projects ever seem to get anywhere. Anyway, we have your office all set-up, but I need to take you to on-boarding for some initiation videos, first. Is that okay? It's just standard stuff."

Jet began walking to the elevator before she could react. "Yes. Yes that sounds good."

She got into the elevator with all the poise she could muster. Jet didn't even look at her, he just stared eyes forward, stoically saying nothing.

The elevator doors surprised her when they opened back up, since she had only gone up a single floor.

"You okay?" Jet asked

"Yes. Of, course" she tried not to let her insecurity show. Why would he ask her that. Didn't she seem okay? Wait a minute....

"Your name is Jet Packer?"

Jet turned to her and laughed. His laugh was honestly the most annoying sound she had ever heard. It was high-pitched and nasally. In that moment she forgot how ridiculous his name was, and desperately hoped that she wasn't supposed to be working with Jet long-term.

"Ha! Yeah," Jet said. "I always introduce myself as 'Jethro' to try and keep people from catching that at first, but it hardly ever works."

Margo made an effort to continue being polite, "Would you rather I called you Jethro?"

"No! I can't stand that name. Jet is fine, please ma'am."

Ma'am? Was he showing respect for his superior? Or was he someone who called everyone sir or ma'am. Margo had met people like that before. Also why introduce himself as Jethro if he hated that name?

"It's just over here," Jet gestured to down the hallway to their right.

"Lead the way," Margo kept her professional smile pinned to her face. But the more Jet spoke, the less she liked him. She tried not to let that throw her off. She did want to make a good first impression, regardless.

As Jet opened the first door on the left, he turned to her, allowing her to enter first. And as Margo approached the door, she realized that she hadn't seen a single other employee. She had definitely seen quite a few men enter the building while she had waited outside. But Jet was the only person she'd seen since entering the front door. There hadn't even been anyone at the reception desk.

She entered the room in front of Jet, finding a moderately sized office with a single desk in the middle of the room, facing away from the door. The large appeared to be high-quality, made of a dark wood, and it supported a rather large computer monitor. At the back of the room, opposite the door where she stood, was a black love-seat, and two matching armchairs.

How long was she supposed to spend in this windowless room?

Margo stared into the empty room before entering. She had been under the impression that Phillip Pendergast himself would be meeting her to welcome her into the company. He had seemed so excited to have her on board. Was that just a sales tactic?

Jet stepped into the room and walked over the desk, leaving her in the doorway. Without sitting down, he leaned over the chair, using the mouse to click something she couldn't see on the monitor.

"Jet," she started, still standing in the doorway, "is Mr. Pendergast here? I had thought he--"

"Mr. Pendergast has meetings all day." Jet interrupted, "I'm so sorry I thought that you had been told. He wanted me to assure you that he hadn't forgotten you, but his schedule today made it impossible for him to see you.

Margo stood motionless, feeling slightly better. Even though it she felt it appropriate to be angry that the man who had bought her out and nearly begged her to come work for him was now blowing her off, she honestly felt like her nerves might get the better of her today. Maybe putting it off one day would be best for all parties involved.

Jet continued, "This is all just standard stuff, everyone has to do it. Insurance and NDA's and some trainings that H.R. insists on. Mr. Pendergast wanted me to welcome you here and made sure you know your place here, and how much the company values you."

Margo stepped inside the room, letting the door shut behind her. She smiled and nodded. "Okay, then"

"If you insist on speaking to him, I can call his secretary and see if he can spare a minute," Jet offered.

"No! No, that's fine. I understand." Margo walked toward Jet to sit in the chair. "Just here?"

"It won't take long at all," Jet assured her.

"Alright, sounds good." Margo sat in the chair, noting that it was remarkably comfortable.

"Okay, great!" Jet smiled warmly. " Just go ahead and put those headphones on. This is all pretty self-explanatory." He stopped and looked her. She realized he was waiting for her to pick up the headphones on the desk. She could smell the disinfectant that must've been used on them recently.

Jet nodded as she put them over her ears. "I'm just going to take care of something real quick." She could barely make out what he was saying now. "The bathrooms are down the hall to the left," his muffled voice said, "and if you need anything, you can call the front desk with that button there on the phone." Jet gestured to a small blue button on the phone to her right.

"Okay, no problem," Margo's smile was showing some real fortitude.

"Okay," Jet honest-to-god gave her two thumbs-up. What a fucking dork. "It won't take you long but I'll be back before you're finished. I promise." And with that, Jet turned to leave and headed out into hallway. Margo watched as the door closed itself behind him.

Margo finally let out her disappointment. Not a great first day. She had only met one dork so far and Phillip Pendergast was too busy for her? Yes, he was important, but she really thought that he was more excited to get her on board with this company. Now, she felt like an after thought. Relegated to this windowless room on a floor where no one worked.

She told herself that this wasn't supposed to be her office. All the better. This room had no windows, the loudest fluorescent lights she'd ever encountered, and the distinct smell of bleach and other cleaning products permeated the walls and floor, like they'd been used regularly and often. Jet had said that her office was somewhere else, ready for her. That made her feel a little better. She could go and see her own office! Just as soon as she was done with, whatever this was.

She saw the screen in front of her, noticing what it displayed for the first time. It was a solid gray screen, she might have mistakenly thought that the computer was off if she hadn't seen the bright green letters in the center of the screen that read 'press x to continue'

X? She thought it strange that it wasn't 'ENTER' or 'CTRL'. Whatever. She flicked her finger against keyboard and looked at the screen expectantly.

Someone tapped her shoulder. Margo nearly jumped out of her seat in surprise. She spun around to see Jet standing there. Was that Jet? He looked...different...somehow. She removed the headphones, hesitantly.

"Great work, today. Ma'am. But it's already 5. Mr. Pendergast sends his apologies again, but he doesn't expect you to wait for him.

Margo had frantically wiped the drool of her face while Jet spoke. It was already 5? Margo looked at her watch to confirm.

What happened? Had she fallen asleep? Why had Jet said 'good work'?

Wait. Mr. Pendergast was blowing her off again. Well, she supposed he was a busy, handsome, powerful man.

What? Handsome? No. That wasn't right. Well, he was hot, though. Still, she should be angry.

Margo forced a smile on her face again, surprised to find that it was much easier now than it had been this morning. "Jet, you don't have to call me ma'am." Margo giggled and her hand came up to touch Jet's bicep without being asked.

If he was uncomfortable with that, he didn't let it show. "What should I call you, then?"

Margo flipped her hair, "Call me whatever you want." Was she flirting? Margo couldn't believe herself. It's like she was acting without thinking. Just reacting to him, this...man...that was standing her. Standing here. What a man.

Margo realized she'd been staring at the buckle of Jet's pants. She shook herself and blushed. Jet, blessedly, pretended not to notice.

Jet looked at the screen, and then back to her. "Looks like you haven't quite finished. That's okay. Like I said, it takes awhile."

Wait, is that what he had said before?

He continued, "So, bright and early tomorrow morning?" He opened the door and Margo realized that she was walking out the front, into the cold February air. When had she left that office? When had she gotten in the elevator?

"Uh. Yes!" How she got here didn't matter, Margo decided. She walked back out to her car with a new-found sway in her steps. She was excited to come to work tomorrow, even if she couldn't really understand why.

_________________________________________________________________

Brian stood alone in a hall at Bartok Industries, his new corporate home. He stared at the letters on the door in front of him which spelled at his own name. The title underneath, 'SENIOR DEVELOPMENT OFFICER' was impressive sounding. In truth he had just gotten lucky with a program he wrote. He hadn't realized it's worth, but someone else had. And that someone had inadvertently started a bidding war over him with various industrial corporations, which had ended when Phillip Pendergast got involved.

Brian still didn't really know why, but he could guess. This company, Bartok, is very unusual.

Brian's memory flashed him an image of a pair of bright blue eyes staring up at him. He felt his cock twitch, thinking of it. Thinking of her.

Yes, Brian could imagine that Phillip Pendergast must wield a certain amount of...influence...over people.

Brian stared at the lettering on the door. Each individual letter spelled out his name, but he was having trouble really believing it was his name on the frosted glass.

And what would he find on the other side of it? The lights were clearly already on inside and some figure was moving. Having his own assistant had been part of the package when he took this job, but...

Butt.

A flawless ass bounced up an down in his memory. His cock began to pulse with his heart

Brian squeezed his eyes shut, desperately thinking of baseball and breathing deeply, and trying to will away the erection that he had just realized had formed between his legs.

Brian had absolutely no idea how to respond to what had happened yesterday, but surely that type of thing isn't a regular occurrence. This was a serious company with real work to be done, wasn't it? Maybe they bent the rules a bit to make deals, entice clients and occasionally new hires, but it was a one time thing for him. It had to be, right? Molly had to be among most gorgeous women on the planet. She must've been put front and center when it came to, uhhh...outreach. But now that he had signed on the dotted line (though he hadn't actually remembered doing it), he wouldn't see Molly again until the company Christmas party. Yeah. That's it, he told himself. Just breath. He would put on a confident smile and greet whoever was inside his office with with energy and warmth; make a good first impression. Confidence is key. Brian felt the weight of his laptop case in his left hand as he reached for the door with his right.

His office was fairly big. The desk was large and expensive looking. Music began to play as he entered

And three women stood just a few steps in side, facing him. A blonde, a brunette, and a red-head. He recognized the one in the middle immediately.

A head taller than the other two, standing at nearly Brian's own well-above-average height, the red head was wearing a tight blazer and matching skirt that just a hair above her thigh. With several inches of her cleavage revealed from underneath her button-up shirt, she was the most conservatively-dressed of the three.

The brunette was wearing a skin-tight dress that flowed all the way to the floor but was cut open on the sides to reveal a delicious caramel skin beneath a dress of a very familiar shade of blue.

That same blue stared at him from the figure in the center. And what a figure it was.

She wore white. A white negligee which did very little to hide any of the creamy flesh that it actually covered. Her hands were folded demurely in front of her, her breasts being gently squeezed by her arms.

All three of them had similar, voluptuous curves that looked straight out of a wet dream he'd had as a teenager.

Brian blinked. He realized that the brunette woman was holding a bouquet of white and violet flowers. And the song that was playing, a classical melody on a stringed instrument.

Brian felt only slightly better about not knowing what to expect, because he didn't think anyone could have expected this.

"Dearly Beloved," The red-haired woman spoke in a confident, regal voice, with a smirk on her face. "We are gathered this morning to celebrate the uniting of two souls into the most intimate relationship that there is: That of work-wife", she gestured to Molly, "and" she turned to gesture to him. "Work-husband." She bit her lip and let out a long breath that was nearly a moan.

Wait. "We, uhh...," Brian declared.

If any of them heard his eloquently stated opinion, they didn't show it.

"The Newly Devoted has written her own vows" The redhead nodded invitingly at Molly.

"Brian", Molly's voice was a soft kiss. Brian realized that his erection had returned with a vengeance. "I promise to love, fuck, and obey, and to love fucking and obeying, you, for as long as we both shall live."

The brunette brushed a tear away from her eye.

"Beautiful", declared the red-haired woman, as the cello continued from a speaker he couldn't see.

"I now pronounce you work-husband and dutiful super-slut. You may play with your new toy however you wish."

The red-head and the brunette turned to walk toward him. The red-haired gave him a knowing smile and winked, but said nothing further. The brunette grabbed the knot of his tie and pulled his ear to her lips and whispered "Once Molly has gotten you to herself for a couple days, I

will

be back for you. She pushed the bouquet of flowers into his chest and sauntered out, drawing Brian's gaze trailed her, watching as the blue dress teased a supple ass in time with the swaying of her hips. She closed his office door as she left.

He turned back to face forward and nearly dropped the bouquet as a blonde and white blur appeared in front of him. She pushed her body into his, catching him off guard and forcing him back against the door.