The Better Man Wins
by yfnsp
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Chapter 5 - The New Normal
My appointment to see Mason was at 10:30 Thursday morning. I arrived about ten minutes early and had a chance to chat with Mona, whom I'd spoken with a couple of times already, but had never seen. She turned out to be a petite dark-skinned African-American woman of indeterminate age. By her voice I had expected someone a lot younger and whiter. Articulate and professional, she was clearly much more than a receptionist; she seemed to know everything about Mason's business including the proposed terms of our upcoming merger.
Just as she was asking about Anna's background and interest in low-cost housing, Mason came out if his office to greet me..
"It was nice talking with you, Mona," I said as I got up.
"Thank you, Mr. Hausmann," she smiled. "I'm sure we'll speak again."
"I look forward to it," I said, genuinely.
Mason ushered me into his office saying, "You got a chance to chat with Mona, then?"
"Yes. Very impressive! Where did you find her?"
"She is, isn't she? Believe it or not, she came from a temp agency when I was just getting the business off the ground 20 years ago. Couldn't believe my luck! She was a single mom raising two boys. We helped her finish college - BBA with a minor in math. She's been a huge part of our success."
Mason gestured toward a chair. "So, how are you getting along?" He looked impressive in his suit and tie; I hadn't seen him in full regalia since the party almost two weeks before. I took in the atmosphere of his executive office: nothing fancy, but warm and comfortable as well as functional. It was devoid of ostentation, but looked authoritative, much like its occupant. "The buck stops here" was the feeling it gave.
"Oh, I'm doing okay, thanks," I said, intentionally ignoring the subject of Anna. "As well as can be expected," I added despite my resolution.
Mason smiled consolingly and said, "You'll have Anna back soon. Just a couple more days." He picked up a folder on his desk. "The letter was delivered to Anderson's office this morning. I've got a copy here if you want to... Is that what you wanted to see me about?"
"No, not really, but that's great," I replied. "I'll let Andy handle it. No, I was just feeling a bit... well, I miss Anna." I blushed slightly and looked up from the folder to his face. "And you, I guess..." I let my voice trail off.
"Oh," Mason said, getting up from his desk and coming around to my side of it. "Anna's doing fine, and you'll see her soon. We were thinking of having you over for dinner on Friday night and then you can take her home." He perched himself on the edge of his desk, right in front of me. "You missed me too?" he asked more softly.
I had been looking at his well tailored crotch, I realized, and I looked back up to his face. "Yes." I said flatly. "You too."
"I'm flattered, Jack." He sounded sincere. "Tell me. How much did you like getting fucked by me?"
"I liked it a lot. It was incredible," I enthused, "especially last time."
"I fucked you like a girl, didn't I? Did it make you feel like a girl?"
"No, it made me feel like a whore, though," I said, thinking it through, hoping to convey some sense of what I had experienced. "It felt like you owned me. Like my feelings didn't matter. Like I was nothing but a cunt to you."
"And you liked that?"
"Yes," I said, looking him straight in the eye and blushing, my caged cock throbbing painfully, "I liked it a lot."
"That's amazing!" Mason stood up and reached out and tousled my hair. "But I do care about your feelings, Jack." And then he grinned his devious grin. "Especially if your feelings include liking to be my whore and my cunt!" He chuckled at that.
"You made me cum." I said softly, longingly, as if by way of explanation.
"And I'll do it again soon, I promise, Jack," he said, "But not today. Not while Anna's fertile." He looked at me sympathetically.
"I understand," I said. "Thanks for seeing me anyway."
"You sound a little pathetic," he said. "How about you get down on your knees for me?" As in previous occasions, the question held too much authority to sound like a question at all.
I complied, feeling, as I always did, that he knew exactly what I needed. I knelt before him, head bowed. I looked at his polished brogues. I could feel the warmth of his body on my face. He placed his hand on top of my head.
"Do you want to be my whore?" he asked gently.
"Yes, sir," I answered softly.
"For always?"
"Yes, sir," I repeated, my heart filling with joy.
"And my cunt?"
My heart fluttered. I loved that he was using my own words against me. "Yes, please, sir."
"Open my pants, Cunt," he said with a tenderness that made the crude insult sound like a term of endearment.
I was as diligently compliant as I knew how to be. His belt, the button in front of his trousers, the zipper... all undone.
"Kiss it."
I brought my lips to the bulge in his boxers, absorbing the scent of his cock and balls. I kissed and breathed in deeply. I was deliriously happy.
"Good boy," he said, rewarding me with words he seemed to know I treasured.
He grasped the waist of his pants with both hands and, turning around, lowered them and bent forward toward the desk, exposing his firm, muscular ass.
"Do you want to kiss my ass?" he asked as if there were more than one possible answer.
"Yes, please, sir," was my grateful response.
"Go ahead," Mason pronounced, a gracious boon to his unworthy servant.
I immediately kissed the center of his crack, breathing in his anal aroma and pulsing painfully in my cage. I fervently showered kisses all over both of his manly globes before going back to the center and, using my hands to spread his cheeks, I burrowed my face between them and kissed his most private spot. My lips felt the tight pucker and my tongue came out to play with it, moistening his anal ring with the saliva that his mouth-watering scent had elicited. I kissed the brown hole, sucking at it and licking it slavishly, pressing at its center, hoping to open it a little so I could taste his insides, french-kissing his poop-hole as if it were a lover's lips. The pain of my throbbing, thwarted cock confirmed my submissive sycophancy. He wasn't even my boss yet and I was already kissing his ass!
"Nice, Jackie," I heard from above, "You're a good little ass-licker."
He straightened up, removing his ass from my face, pulled up his pants and turned around. "You seem so eager! " He fastened his pants, standing in front of me, still on my knees. "Seems like chastity is making you even more submissive. I'm curious; tell me: what do you get out of it?"
I looked up into his face from my subservient kneeling posture. "I just want to please you... I want to make you feel good. It's the idea that I'm giving you pleasure."
"You were like making fucking love to my asshole!" he said with amazement.
"Hmmm, well, it's just so intimate. I mean, it's not like sucking your cock; that's better - making you cum is... well, that's what I really like." I tried to sort it out; this was all so new: new feelings, new desires. "But I guess it's the intimacy - your asshole is so personal and private - and the humility - it's so degrading. It's like I want to be degraded. By you, I mean... to be your ass-licker, it's like being a slave. It should be humiliating, but it makes me... it's what I want."
"You continue to amaze, me, Jack." Mason grinned and ruffled my hair again. It felt just like being his faithful dog.
To be continued.