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  • Manipulated Male Ch. 02: Colleague

Manipulated Male Ch. 02: Colleague

I lost a bet...

My partner supplied random information... a person, a setting, etc... and demanded a story to approve for publication here.

I failed on my first two attempts.

The third attempt was the first story in this series. To wit, Manipulated Male: The Neighbour

It took me two attempts to complete a satisfactory 'punishment' story - one of the punishments for wasting her time with, quote, those two useless rambling nonsense pieces of garbage, unquote.

This story is that first accepted punishment story...

********

The photo sat alone on the small round table. The content was devastating. In the back left was the smoke billowing from a fire and in the back centre right was a group smashing the window of a shop. It took a moment to stop reeling, mentally - and I think quite possibly I might have wobbled physically -before I could once again focus. I wasn't smiling and I wasn't running or skipping gleefully. No reason I should be, of course. I'd delayed leaving the arena to avoid the worst of the crowds, only to discover the streets outside were immersed in a full blown riot. I'd been picking my way through the mess for 20 odd minutes, judging by where I seemed to be in this photo.

"It was a mess," I said quietly.

"I'm pretty sure the boss won't be best pleased."

I turned to look at the bitch. I thought of her as a bitch because she was a bitch. She and her department were less than competent and were proven less than competent by my results, as a private contractor, since I was brought in two years previously to perform a significant portion of her previous task.

There was something ugly about her smile. Something ugly about the whole scene.

"I shouldn't think anyone is best pleased."

"But the boss won't have much option, will she. Not when the cc goes to the local paper." She turned the monitor on her desktop to show me the email.

I couldn't read it. Didn't have to. Social media was being used to identify the main culprits to the post sporting event ramage. The perpetrators of the riot were now the subject of a public witch-hunt. "Don't be silly. I didn't have anything to do with..."

"Looks pretty damning to me," she interrupted, smiling her most insidious smile.

She would do it. No ability but machination was her modus operendi. And she has no moral compass whatever. Yes, the bitch would press the send key.

" Even you wouldn't do this. The boss knows I was at the match last night, we had a phone conversation about something else earlier this morning..."

"Looks pretty damning to me," the bitch repeated, turning the monitor back toward her, and typing quickly, "and while I bet the boss knows the outline of events from your point of view I bet she doesn't know you hung around afterwards long enough to be in midst of the riot..."

"People from the match were caught up..."

"Not people who are a significant public face for this organization and not people for whom the local news media have an immediate interest..."

"Listen...!"

Once more she was very quick to cut me off, "Please, Ms Marks, I would like a few minutes to put my case."

"Pardon?!" I was finally fed up with the bitch and her nonsense.

"3-2-1." She stopped typing and looked straight at me. "Too late. Take off your shirt and you can try again..."

I think the room literally shifted on its axis. Yet again. She was serious. When I was more or less able to focus again, she was speaking, "I'm a marketing expert. I know you don't think I'm very skilled but I think you'll find I can frame this pic to your complete disadvantage. So I'm giving you to the count of 10 to get your shirt off and start speaking to me nicely."

"But..."

The bitch's eyes positively sparkled. "We'll start with your shirt and see where it goes. 10-9-8..." It wasn't a quick count but it was a steady one. "...7-6..." I couldn't read bluff anywhere in her eyes or body language. Quite the contrary, the loathing was mutual and she was going to, well... "5-4..." I started unbuttoning my shirt..."3-2..." I had pulled out the flaps from my slacks and I was on the last couple of buttons. Something about my fingers wasn't quite right...they were stiff and uncooperative... " 1-0".

My shirt came off and I held it out. Wrinkling her nose, and sniffing, she said, "Anywhere on the floor will do. And because you were slow take off your shoes as well."

I put my shirt on the small round table and kicked off my shoes.

"I said on the floor. Add your socks to your shoes."

It was a battle of wills. The joker was the pic and it was in her hand. For the moment at least, she was calling the shots. I dropped my shirt on the floor, sat in one of the chairs beside the table and peeled off my socks. These I tucked in my shoes.

She was smiling broadly now, but the eyes were malicious. "Better...now say 'Please, Ms Marks, I would like a few minutes to put my case'."

"Please, Ms Marks, I would like a few minutes to put my case."

She tilted her head. "Again."

"Please, Ms Marks, I would like a few minutes to put my case."

Pursing her lips, she made me wait for a few seconds. Then, "Nope. I don't think you've captured the tone. Slacks next."

No way. I removed my phone from the holster on my belt and held it out for her to see.

She punched buttons on her phone. It came on speaker and evidently she had at least one local paper on speed-dial. Within a matter of seconds she was on hold for the Editor. The bitch held all the cards. For the moment.

It was crushing really. But I had to keep a clear head, keep thinking. Rising to my feet, I undid my belt...only to have the bitch produce a digital cam and snap a pic. Then another while I was unzipping and a third while my slacks were sliding down my legs.

"Hi!..." the voice came on the speaker.

Hi," the bitch replied, "I'm just having a very interesting meeting in my office. Wanted to forewarn you I might have a release before deadline."

"Good, we have some space. Are you taking pix?"

My erection almost burst my briefs: the entire room going tropical in temp in an instant.

"Yes," a chuckle from the bitch," but that might be a story for later in the week."

"Well, any time. Talk soon."

"Yes, we will."

By which time, I was standing like a fool with my slacks in my hands. She indicated I should add them to my shirt and snapped another pic. Then she waited, cam raised and no doubt focused.

When I failed to react, the voice from behind the cam said, "10-9-8..."

I dropped my slacks near my shirt, on the floor. Heard the cam take another pic.

But the count didn't stop. "...7-6-5..." No way! I realized with a sickening lurch what she was counting down for this time. No chance. None at all! "...4..."No! There must be something I could say!"...3..." Uh-uh. "...2..." Shit-bitch. "...1..." I got my thumbs in the elastic and managed to get them over the seething erection and down but they were still wrapped around my feet. "...0..."

The cam was working when I straightened up.

"It's only respectful to be on time," the bitch said, lowering the cam for a second to make eye contact.

"Listen, I wasn't involved in that riot willingly and you know it."

"I don't really know any such thing but it's not relevant now anyway is it. For some peculiar reason you've decided to get naked in my office..."

That took the breath right out of me. It was all so simple yet diabolically clever. By keeping the time at a minimum she'd managed to take and keep the initiative. Now she had me. If she released the original pic I wouldn't be able to complain because she had the backup pix of me naked in her office. Naked with an erection no less. If she didn't want to risk my being able to deny the original pic effectively, she need only release this new set of pix. Of me in her office. Nude. With an erection.

"...And as I said," the bitch was still speaking, "it's disrespectful to be late and you were late getting out of those briefs so you need to make some reparation for that."

My throat was swollen closed. I had to swallow, twice, to clear it. Would it be better if I didn't have an erection? I doubted it. "How?"

"Perfect." She smiled, malevolent. "That's how it is now. I say, you do. If you're not sure, you ask...then I'll say and you'll do. Now, to start, get your ass on that table, knees well apart and hands clasped behind your back. Think of this as humility training part one."

I guess I hesitated because she once again punched in a number on her phone.

Not wanting to risk anything further, I surrendered entirely - hustling to get my butt on the cold surface of the table and my hands behind my back.

"Kelly," the bitch said, smiling.

"Yes." The voice of the gorgeous young assistant sent shivers up my spine.

"Ummh, no," the bitch sounded so reluctant - but looked so smug believe me," it can wait til the meeting. One hour though, no later, okay?"

"Fine. Good. See you then."

The bitch broke the connection. "Now, you, convince me I'm the only one she should see when she gets here..."

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