Turning The Tables - Cover

Turning The Tables

Copyright© 2007 by Hardcase

Chapter 1

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - She uses sex as a weapon, very successfully...she leads men around by the cock and balls and has them doing whatever she wants. Now she's got me in her sights, and I'm not eager to become the next puppy she puts on a leash. And then...everything changes, and suddenly I'm the one who is holding the leash. (Will add more story codes with each chapter)

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Drunk/Drugged   Magic  

"Oh, yeah, baby... just like that... it feels so good!"

Okay, so what she was saying to me as I moved back and forth with my cock in her pussy seemed a bit clichéd... but then nothing about this situation seemed like it was any more than just an exercise in vigorous naked activity — i.e., the mechanics and appearance of sex, without the passion or the real feeling of being in the moment.

I had to admit I was surprised when the sex-bomb that was Tonya Tachinsky walked into my office that afternoon and sat in the chair across the desk from me. "Please, make yourself at home," I said somewhat acerbically, as Tonya was a bit stuck on herself and acted somewhat like the queen of the office to anyone not in her social circle.

Of course, why shouldn't she. She was petite, maybe 5'2" in stocking feet, 110 pounds soaking wet — but all of what she had was put in the right places. I would never ask her aloud, but her dimensions had to approximate 36-24-32... a generous bust, tapered waist, and tight yet full bottom that swayed so deliciously atop the four-inch heels she generally wore.

However, a lot of her attitude might be attributed to the fact she seemed to have so many of the senior executive staff on a leash, able to get them to do anything she wanted with just a snap of her fingers. Despite the fact that she was only an administrative assistant, she seemed to be better connected and hold more power at that particular office than even the senior V.P. in charge of the division. That very day, I had seen her buttonhole my boss, Richard Swenson, in the hallway between his office and mine. She pulled on his tie until his ear was level with mouth, then whispered softly in his ear for a moment, finishing with a soft lick on his earlobe as she turned away. Richard stood there trembling, his eyes glued on the round mounds of her gluteus maximus as the traveled back and forth inside her tight leather mini-skirt... and then his eyes went wide and his hands shot to cover his crotch! I swear, I think the man shot a load in his pants just watching the girl walk away.

As for myself, I had just transferred into this office from Atlanta, having risen up the executive ladder quickly after turning around failing sales programs in Baltimore, Cleveland, and then entire Southeast Region of the company. We sold copiers to major business concerns all across America, but somewhere along the line, the company had lost the trust of its customers. People who had used our copiers for years started going with other companies that made somewhat inferior products but delivered them at a better price point. Some bright boy in Rochester decided to de-emphasize the superiority of our products and our much better technical support and try to compete head-to-head at a price that made no sense to the company's bottom line...

Sorry... I know you're not here to read about the corporate B.S., and I do get carried away by it sometimes. Suffice it to say, I was the rising young star in the corporate firmament, but an outsider to those in this new office. And, unlike those long-timers, Tonya Tachinsky didn't have her hooks in me.

And now she was sitting across from me in my office. Anyone see a coincidence here?

"Now, now, Tony, is that any way to act? Especially when Dickie has decided to put us together so that I can help you...", she pauses to lick her lips, leaning forward so that the tops of her breasts are visible over the corset-style top she's wearing, "acclimate." She exhales the word breathily, a beautifully studied action that's obviously an invitation to do more than just learn where the coffee machine and the restroom are located.

I sit back in my chair and contemplate her obviousness, my index fingers steepled under my nose, as is my habit when I'm thinking. Though I'm fairly young compared to the other executives in the office, I know I'm no Adonis. Hard work and moderate diet have kept me trim, but I'm no gym hound. I'd spent most of my career meeting with clients in their offices, keeping me from being chained to a desk and developing a gut and a cushion-ass. And while I could pass for mid-30s when I was dressed casually and wearing a ball cap, my gray pinstripe and severe expression often made people compare me to actor Patrick Stewart — especially since I have his hairline!

Therefore, I could honestly say her offer was not made from mutual sexual attraction. In fact, despite her overt sexuality, I wasn't all that attracted to her, either. It was obvious she used her physical charms to dominate and control her work environment, and that was not the least bit attractive to me. Moreover, she must be holding the sex over the heads of those she slept with, perhaps using the risk of exposure to wives, or to the company at large, as the hammer she used to exert such power in the executive suite.

As I sat there quietly contemplating, I could see her discomfiture grow. Tonya was used to covering herself in catnip and watching the males come to her as if pulled by an invisible leash. The fact that I wasn't jumping at her offer to become "acclimated" was making her uncomfortable, though she tried to cover it by being the bitchy tease she always acted like in the halls.

Sitting back in her seat, she stretched her neck upward and attempted to look down her nose at me — a neat trick given that the top of her head didn't even register as chest high to me as she was sitting now. "What's the matter, Tony? Do you need the facts of life explained to you this late in life? Is that why you aren't married?" She thought for a moment, and then a cold grin and a raised eyebrow were aimed at me. "Or maybe you like boys better than girls, hmmmmm?"

I looked at her a moment, raising my own eyebrow at the comment. I'd seen the HR department run people right out the door for much less innocent remarks about sexual preference. The fact that she would openly comment on such a thing was another sign that she felt she was untouchable, that she could do whatever she wanted and could get away with it.

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