In 15 minutes, the work -week was over for Jake Thomas. The 28-year-old single, corporate ladder climbing former soccer star was mentally planning his weekend as he watched a dom guy work some bitch over on the company's internet link.
This is how Jake had ended every day at IT Solutions in San Diego. It got his juices going for the weekend for his girl of the month. This month, it was Sandra, a pool secretary 5 floors below him in the Winston Tower, a high rise near the coast.
Jake had been promoted into a window office with a slight view of the shore.
Sandra liked it rough, and the pair had been playing for 3 months, 2 more than the average for Jake. Once he smelled engagement, he was dumping a gal and moving on to the next thing.
10 minutes to go.
Jake rubbed his crotch as he watched the guy shove a squash up the woman's twat.
His other hand was inside his blue tailored shirt, rubbing a nipple surrounded by dark brown hair, a furry pelt covering his chest and tapering down to the expected treasure trail into his underwear. Well, usually. Today, he grabbed a jock when he realized he hadn't done laundry.
"I need to hire a maid," he thought.
The woman on line struggled in her restraints and Jake made a mental note to go to the grocery store before meeting Sandra that night. He was to meet her around 7 p.m. at his house in rural San Diego. Jake had been a leather dominate for about 5 years and inherited the house shortly after starting leather play. It had a large attic he converted into a dungeon. The house was somewhat secluded, with 15 acres around it, giving it a rural feel, even though he had neighbors on either side. Trees blocked the view of most of the houses and no one lived across the road.
Jake was really getting excited. The guy on line was a porn star, with a big cock, about 8 inches and thick, a little smaller than Jake's penis. If Jake wasn't dumping his dates because of marriage, they were dumping him because he was too big, or he tried kink on them.
Jake noticed a wet spot on his khakis, but wasn't too concerned. He'd wait 5 extra minutes and be the last one out. Hell, it was Friday. If he left now, he'd probably be the last one out.
That wasn't the situation last weekend, he remembered. A former fling had stopped by and at 5:15, he'd tied her to his office chair and had fun for a couple of hours. Missy enjoyed the kink, but she was the one that had sensed marriage, and dumped Jake. Well, and because of his arrogance. Jake loved his body more than women, and loved his chest hair more than Gaston from "Beauty and the Beast".
The Friday fling had ended with Missy getting posted on the desk while Jake slapped her face and called Missy by her mother's name. Missy orgasmed twice.
Jake had done various other things in his office since moving there. He was allowed Internet access, but certain sites, like the current one he watched, were off limits.
5 p.m. Jake decided to give it the extra five minutes. The wet spot was about 2 inches around and his swelled pecker was very noticeable in his pants.
"Jake, you still here?" His manager, Jef Bronson, was using the intercom.
"Uh, yeah, just planning to head out," Jake responded, wondering what was happening.
"Stay there. I'll be in a minute," Jef said.
Jake sighed. Jef was 43, 5'9", 170, average looking. The pair had beers about once a week, sometimes joined by others. Jef walked to work, being the environmentalist he was, and lived about 4 blocks away in a warehouse, circa 1910. Jef lived in a renovated brick warehouse that was converted into a loft. The warehouse was huge, with about 40 apartments, and was in a district with other converted buildings. Jef apparently owned the building he lived in and threw parties for the office about once a month.
Jake knew Jef was gay, but he didn't feel threatened at all. Jef never made a pass at him, and Jef certainly wasn't in Jake's league. Jake was his high school and college soccer captain. Jef had been a drum major. Jake did notice Jef's physique. Jef obviously worked out, although not at Jake's gym, where Jake could be found every day, except Friday.
Jef walked in about a minute after paging Jake, wheeling a TV/DVD combo in with him. Without saying a word, he plugged in the device and turned it on.
"I know you're wanting to get out of here, but there's something I thought you'd want to see," Jef said, slipping a DVD into the player.
Jake rolled his eyes. Jef was a good manager, but he'd done this twice before, coming in at closing with something and keeping Jake 15-30 minutes late.
Jake's eyes shot out of his head when the screen came to life. It was him, fucking Teresa from marketing in his office, an over-sized marketing pen in her mouth as a bit. Before he could comment, the image switched to Angela from billing giving him a blow job, an obvious nooner. Jake hung his clock behind him in the office. The camera angle appeared to be from the desk and the clock read 12:15 over his shoulder. A series of women servicing Jake in his office filled the screen: Kayla, the stewardess he'd met at lunch; Rachel from billing; Megan and her twin sister Meagan, who he'd met a week before who happened to stop by; and Gertrude, another employee's mother who Jake thought was hot for 56.
The DVD stopped and Jake looked up at Jef.
"We have a problem," Jef said. "This isn't your bedroom. This is a business office. That's a business computer! When I suspected what was going on, I checked the Internet history on your computer and printed it."
"History?" Jake was surprised. He'd totally forgotten computers kept histories of visited sites. "I know this probably violates company policy, but..."
"Probably?" Jef interrupted. "Are you on drugs? Don't answer that.
"Jake, I have enough to fire you 10 times over. I'm surprised the cleaning service didn't say something about the messes they must have found in here!"
"Jef, I'm sorry. I'll not do it again," Jake said, a slight look in his bright blue eyes. The goatee on his chin twitched.
"Jake, don't lie to me. A guy like you? You're a good looking guy, and if Sandra showed up right now, you'd probably fuck her right in front of me," Jef stated. "Guys like you don't change."
"So? Do I clean out my desk now?" Jake hung his head. He was planning to move up in this company. His resume would be outstanding, but right now was a tight time in the job market. It might be months before he landed a comparable job, and Jake didn't have anything in reserve, having invested in his dungeon. He was hoping his next promotion, expected next month, would propel him where he wanted to be.
"I can't fire you, exactly," Jef said.
Jake looked up. "Can't?" he thought.
"You're in the middle of the Trenton project. Pulling you out now would be bad. We don't have anyone to cover for you, but I might have to. It's up to you," Jef said.
"Up to me? In what way?"
"I can go to the managers' meeting Monday and show them the Internet history, and if I have to, the DVD. You'll probably not be promoted for another year or 2; that's the best-case scenario. Worst case, we fire you."
"So what's up to me?" Jake asked, a little pissed. "Sounds like I'm screwed either way."
"Wouldn't you like a third option, Jake?" Jef offered.
"Sure," Jake threw up his hands, ready to be sarcastic. "Sounds like there is one."
"There is," Jef smiled. "Strip."
To be continued.