As Louise Sullivan drove in to work that Monday, she was plagued by a vague sense of dread, as if something wasn't quite right.
The previous Friday, the president of the company had called her into his office, where she saw Bob Daniels sitting in another chair. He smiled at her, but it was something of an oily smile, and that left her suspicious.
Once she was seated, Mr. Pomeroy had told her that she was being promoted and that she would be assigned as Bob's personal secretary. Bob himself was being promoted to head of the sales division and was already in the process of moving into a new, more private office.
Bob had shook her hand warmly, and told her he'd have her duty list ready come Monday morning. She spent the rest of that Friday cleaning out her old desk and moving her things to her new workspace in the outer foyer of Bob's new office.
Louise's new position came with a $2,000 bonus and a substantial increase in her salary, which was good news. Christmas was right around the corner, and she still owed a considerable amount on her credit cards that she had used to cover her gambling debts.
Also with the bonus and the bump in pay, she was hoping that she could quit modeling for Brandon. That little side job had been lucrative, but it was starting to get out of hand.
It had been on Wednesday night of the previous week that she had been seduced into having sex with Brandon and his friend for a very nice sum of cash.
The money had been welcome, and she'd put most of the money into her private bank account then fired off another check to one of the credit card companies. She'd also done some Christmas shopping, and was right on schedule with her gifts.
The sex had also been good, better than anything she'd had with her husband Willard in quite some time. But as a couple of days passed and when Willard returned home from another of his business trips, she'd been overwhelmed by guilt. She'd cheated on Willard, and for money no less.
Problem was, Louise had gotten the kind of thrill out of posing for nude pictures that she'd gotten previously from wagering on sports, and she was afraid that without that job, she'd be tempted back into gambling.
It was in that unsettled frame of mind that Louise arrived at the company headquarters right at 7:50, as always. As she approached the large glass doors, she stopped and looked at her reflection, getting a quick inventory of her appearance.
Not bad for a woman of 43, she mused. She'd gone conservative this day, because she wanted to start with Bob Daniels on a professional footing. She knew his reputation as a ladies man, and while he was undeniably handsome, she wanted to keep their relationship strictly on the up-and-up.
For her first day in her new job, she'd worn a longish peasant-style skirt and a button-down sweater that was snug but not tight. She decided that she looked just right, and with a deep breath, she pulled open the door and entered the building.
Bob had been looking forward to this for several weeks. His plan of seduction had gone exactly as he had hoped, and now he had Louise Sullivan under his thumb to do his bidding. He had shown her pictures around and he already had several clients lined up who were eager for a crack at her delicious body.
Louise arrived at her new workstation, and immediately set about making coffee, which she surmised would be her first and foremost duty when she arrived. Bob was already in his office, and she stuck her head in and said hello.
"Oh, Louise, when you get coffee made, come in and let's talk," Bob said. "I like mine with cream and two sugars."
He chuckled to himself as the thought about cream and two sugars. Cream from my cock, he mused, and the two sugars on Louise's chest. His desk hid his throbbing hard-on, which was just bursting with cum that he planned on depositing in Louise's stomach real soon.
As soon as the pot finished brewing, she fixed herself a cup – black with just a little sugar – then fixed Bob's cup. She carried both cups into Bob's office, handed his over and was about to sit when Bob told her to shut his office door.
"Shouldn't I leave the door open in case the phone rings?" she asked.
"Don't worry, no one calls me before 9 o'clock," Bob said. "Besides, that's why God invented voice mail. No, we have something to discuss that requires a closed door."
Louise started getting that same uneasy feeling she'd had on the drive into work earlier that morning. She had a bad feeling about something, but she couldn't as yet put her finger on what it was.
Bob quickly enlightened her, and the next few minutes would forever change Louise's life.
"Pomeroy's about half-senile, and I can talk him into just about anything," Bob began. "All I have to show him are the sales figures for the business I've brought into this company, which is why I was promoted to this position."
Louise sipped her coffee as she wondered where Bob was going with this conversation. Bob opened his desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder, which he laid on the desk in front of him.
"The truth is, Louise, I chose you, not necessarily because of your secretarial skills, although they are first-rate," Bob said. "No, I chose you for my personal secretary, because you have something I want, something a lot of people in and out of this company want."
"What's that?" Louise said fearfully, as an icy feeling of dread slithered up her spine.
"Your body," Bob said, and he couldn't help a triumphant smile from glazing his face. "I've wanted to fuck you since the day you first arrived here, and now I have my chance. So does anyone else who wants you."
At that, Bob handed Louise the folder. She opened it, and was horrified to see that it contained photos of her posing nude and having sex with Brandon and Jason the previous week. Suddenly, it hit her. Bob had been the one who had handed her the newspaper ad and suggested that she call about the job.
"You set me up," Louise whispered.
"And you swallowed it hook, line and sinker," Bob chortled. "Brandon tells me you fuck like a fish. Best fuck he's had in a long time, is how he put it."
Louise felt as if she was falling into an abyss, as if she was in a nightmare and couldn't wake up. She looked again at the photos, and there was no way to hide the fact that she was the woman in the photos.
They showed her in all sorts of lewd poses, and the sex shots were quite explicit. And they all showed clearly on her face how much she was enjoying what she was doing.
They showed her stripping off her clothes. They showed her kneeling on the bed sucking Jason's cock. They showed her on her back with a pleading look on her face as Jason hovered just out of reach. They showed the ecstatic look as Jason filled her to the brim with his huge dick. They showed the shocked expression when Jason shot a huge cumload all over her face. They showed Brandon moving in and kissing her lustfully. They showed her lying back with her legs in the air as Brandon fucked her with long, slow strokes. And they showed her dilated, well-fucked pussy as Brandon's cum oozed out onto the bed.
She thought about taking the folder, bolting from the room and leaving everything behind. But she knew the photos would follow her. They were simply computer printouts and could be easily reproduced. Her bottom lip was quivering as she closed the folder and tossed it angrily back to Bob.
"What do you want from me?" Louise said.
"Right now, all I want is a blowjob," Bob said. "But first, I think I need to explain how your job is going to work. You have serious debts that need to be paid, and the bonus and increase in salary will help there, and some of the money you bring in will also help you there. After I get my cut, of course."
"What do you mean, 'the money I bring in?'" Louise said.
"Have you ever heard the term, 'corporate whore?'" Bob said.
Louise just shook her head no, so Bob continued.
"A corporate whore is a person in the employ of a company, usually – but not always – a woman, whose job it is to have sex with clients and anyone else who has the money to pay for her favors," Bob said. "The company provides the whore, and the client pays her for her services."
Louise was reeling at this information. He couldn't possibly be considering that for her. But one look at Bob's face and she knew he was serious.
"Don't worry, dear," Bob said. "I'll make sure they're clean. You'll get used to it pretty quickly. Knowing your nature, you'll be as happy as a duck on a pond inside of a week."
"Like hell I will," Louise said. "No way. No way am I going to do this."
"Louise, Louise," Bob said, in the tone a disappointed schoolteacher might take with an unruly student. "You don't get it, do you. Let me spell it out for you. You don't have any choice. Say no, and your husband – hell your whole family – will get a nice juicy file full of these photos dropped into their e-mails. You honestly don't think old Willard – isn't that his name? – would approve of his lovely wife appearing in a series of porno shots, now do you?"
"You wouldn't," Louise whispered.
"Try me," Bob said. "Make no mistake, bitch. I own you now, one way or another. Either you turn tricks for me here or you turn them on the street after hubby dear kicks your slut ass out of the house and you lose your job, because Pomeroy somehow got a copy of the file. And I don't think you'll like turning tricks out on the street very much. So, what's it going to be? My way or the highway? You decide."
Louise was trapped. She knew it; Bob knew it. She was going to be his whore, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. The nude shots she might have been able to explain to her husband, but there was no way she could explain the sex shots.
Willard had a prickly, peculiar sense of propriety where the business world was concerned. In his world, it was customary for high-level executives to have their mistresses, and many of them did. She didn't know for sure, but she suspected the Willard did as well.
