by Cher
“Nicole!”
Marcus sat behind his desk, seething. His eyes flashed over the flight itinerary on his computer screen as a young woman stepped meekly into his office.
“Did I or did I not tell you that I wanted the 7 p.m. KLM flight to Amsterdam? Because this is definitely not KLM, nor is it at 7 p.m.”
His eyes snapped up to look at the young woman standing before his desk, shrinking inside her perfectly tailored dress. She dropped her head, her blonde hair hiding her face. “Yes, but, I thought that this other flight would give you time to rest before the meeting.”
“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough. “You will do what I ask, when I ask, or you’ll find yourself out of a job. Go change this reservation. Now.”
Nicole almost gratefully hurried out of the office, and Marcus slammed the lid of his laptop shut. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He knew he didn’t have to be so abrupt, but the success of this entire company was resting on his shoulders, and his employees had to follow his direction exactly. No one had to like him, but they did have to do what he said. Precisely what he said.
He picked up his coat and stormed out of the office. The rest of them could finish up for the day. As he exited the high rise to the busy London city street, he felt himself calm a bit, and a tinge of excitement crept in as he thought about his evening plans.
Marcus gave his driver the address of a hotel, a trendy boutique hotel in a part of the city he rarely visited. No one would know him there, and that’s what he wanted. He leaned back into the car’s plush, leather seat as his phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a photo flash onto the screen, accompanied by a text.
“We’re here,” the text read, and a selfie showed two women, strikingly similar in their dark hair and eyes, the only difference the slight maturity in the face of the woman on the right as they lay on top of luxurious bedding, the photo just barely hinting at the smooth curve of their breasts.
As the car swung to the curb in front of the hotel the driver asked, “Should I wait Mr. Donaldson?” Marcus picked up his coat and opened the door. “No,” he said, still distracted by the photo. “I’ll call you.”
He strode into the hotel and headed straight for the elevator. As he arrived at the door of the room he had booked weeks ago he felt his confidence slip away. He knocked lightly and the door opened, a tall woman clad in nothing but leather boots on the other side.
“Get in here. Now.” she growled. “How dare you keep us waiting.”
Marcus slunk into the room and the door shut behind him, sealing his fate. There they were, two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. They were a mother and daughter escort pair he met with once a week, and he cowered before them.
“I’m sorry ladies, there was an issue,” he whispered, his head hanging low.
“No excuses, Marcus,” the younger woman said. “You know that.” She slapped him lightly on the cheek, but Marcus knew she was holding back. He felt his cock begin to harden as both women pushed him toward the bed.
“What’s this?” the older woman asked, as she stroked him through pants. “You’ve been a bad, bad boy Marcus. What makes you think you deserve this?”
“I’m sorry mistress,” Marcus muttered as the two women began roughly ripping off his clothes, the buttons flying from his $600 shirt. In what felt like seconds he was stripped naked, his hands tied to the elegant headboard of the bed, his cock throbbing as he watched the women move toward him.
“Have you been rude to your secretary this week?” the older woman asked, as she straddled him, her boot leather scraping across his skin. She swatted his cock roughly aside as she moved up, her pussy pressed squarely over his face, and she laughed. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Just lick, you worthless piece of crap.”
Marcus moaned and did as he was told. After all, he deserved it. He was a very bad boy, indeed.
