Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, Coercion, Blackmail, MaleDom, Humiliation, Oral Sex,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Sometimes evil can be an infestation so widespread that any efforts to resist seem futile. Yet there must always be some who will resist such things. This is a story about those people.
The Dragon sits in his tower high above the earth, relishing his lordship of those below.
They welcomed him at first, as they always do when he comes, offering vast treasures.
He smiles when he sees their greed, he smiles when they build his towers, and when they realize what he is, what they have done, he smiles all the more.
For once the Dragon has his place, he bends all around it to his will.
As the people groan in desperation, gnash their teeth in despair, still the dragon in the tower sits, and smiles, and he counts his treasure and he dreams of more.
Karen sat staring morosely at her desk, lost entirely in thoughts of her past. The busy life of the office went on around her, but for now she was oblivious to all of that ... Hers was the most barren desk on the administrative floor, even the lowest interns made more personal statements with their work spaces, but the only thing that adorned Karen's desk was a full desk planner that minutely detailed her entire working life for months at a time.
"Karen, Mr. Randolph would like to see you in his office immediately." Karen looked up and found while she had been lost in contemplation, Kirk Reynolds had slithered his way over to her desk. She regarded him with equal amounts of disgust and fear; in theory, he had no authority over her, since they were both administrative supervisors and in fact Karen held seniority. In actuality, Karen had no illusions about her position; Kirk was Mr. Randolph's right hand man, his heir apparent, and so whenever Karen was tempted to inform him that he resembled nothing so much as an over grown snake she forced herself to hold her tongue.
"Alright I'll go see him right away. Thanks for letting me know." As always, the sweetness she pushed into her voice made her want to vomit, but she pushed that sensation aside as she made her way towards the imposing double doors. She entered without knocking like she always did, it was though such small acts of rudeness that she maintained some sense of herself.
Mr. Randolph lounged comfortably behind the vast stretch of his oak carved desk. He was looking at something on his computer, scrolling though some page with a look of pleasant disinterest on his face. Karen didn't make anything of that though, for by now she had learned that Mr. Randolph wore that look whether he was chatting about the weather or plotting murder. She stood in his doorway and waited, until after several minutes he made a show of noticing her for the first time. "Ah, Karen! Have you been waiting long? How terribly rude of me. Please, have a seat." He arose from his chair and made a gallant show of escorting her into the most elegant and uncomfortable of the chairs in front of the desk. Returning to his seat, he made another few moments examination of his computer before turning to address her. His pleasant look had morphed into one that was far more predatory. It was the sort of look that Karen had always imagined that hyenas wore before tearing into their prey. "I was just reading an email from Mr. Tozaku. Apparently you succeeded in making quite an impression on him and his associates. He is now proposing to increase his organization's business with our firm. Well done."
Karen could feel her embarrassment as though it were tangible, spreading through her body like a wave. She wanted to look away from his shining, hungry eyes, wanted to stare ashamedly at the floor or the wall or anything else, but she knew that this was exactly the sort of reaction that he wanted from her so she fought the urge aside and maintained his steady gaze. "Thank you sir."
"In particular," Randolph continued, his eyes never wavering in the slightest, "Mr. Tazaku thought that you possessed certain skills and attitudes that other young American women lack. He said..." Mr. Randolph made another show of consulting his computer, pretending to search for the right word, "that you were exceptionally conscious of your gender's place in the world, and the duties that you owe to your social betters." He smiled at her, and then dived in for the kill. "In future therefore, you shall be assuming the additional responsibility of acting as our liaison with Mr. Tazaku and his associates in all of our transactions. And in all those cases I must insist that you continue to show him and anybody else he wishes that same attitude that has impressed him so."
At this news, Karen's resolve finally broke, and she could not hold back her dismay. "I am not going to be a whore for your Japanese crime syndicates!" At once she realized that she had made a mistake.
"A whore?" Randolph's voice was still calm, but hinted at barely constrained anger. "I think that there is a misunderstanding here. I sent you to have a business dinner with some very important business partners of mine, thinking I could count on you to help them enjoy their stay in our country and encourage them to increase their business with my firm, the firm that you are dependent on for your bread and butter, you and your infantile brother. I was hoping that you would realize that without increased revenues in these times of recession, that nobodies job was safe. You, without any direct orders from me, engaged in sexual acts with not one but three men, with I can only assume the eventual goal of convincing them to support me going forward. I was so ... proud of you." He looked at her with an expression that was equal parts scorn, disappointment, and pity. "But if you think that I am being unreasonable, if you don't want to be a team player, well, I'm sure that Mr. Tazaku would understand." He paused again, making sure that he had her full attenion before he continued. "But would James? Would he understand losing the cushy jobs I've provided for the two of you? And how about your son? Quentin? How old is now, 5? 6? Oh, how time, would young Quentin understand why his mommy can't feed him, why she lost her home? Make no mistake about it, Ms. Farley, there is no room in this organization for selfish people. If you don't want to do this, say the word and I'll find someone who will." His speech concluded, he peered at her expectantly, waiting for a response.
Karen wished desperately that this could be the day when she said 'no' to him, the day when she stormed out of his office and straight to the police, but she knew exactly how futile that would be, for the checks he wrote to to the campaign funds of both the sheriff and the district attorney made their way across her desk periodically. Edmund Randolph owned this town, and everybody in it. Everybody including her. "I'm sorry, Mr. Randolph. I spoke rashly, without thinking. Of course I want us to succeed I'll..." She swallowed her pride, which at this point only amounted to precious few scraps. "I'll serve a liaison with Mr. Tazaku."
He regarded her with a smile reminiscent of a parent who is pleased that his misbehaving child is finally confessing. "I'm very glad to hear that Karen, because in five days Mr. Tazaku is returning to America with a delegation from his assorted ... interests, and he is eager to meet you again. But before he does, I feel it's only prudent to ensure that you haven't lost that rare attitude of yours. Come over here Karen." These last words carried the irresistible finality of an order, and so Karen crossed to the other side of the massive, oaken desk, and assumed a familiar position on her knees beside him. "I think I would like you under the desk today, Karen. I have some rather pressing emails to get through before the end of the day." This was unusual, but Karen had learned long ago not to show any emotions whatsoever in times like these. On her hands and knees, she crawled underneath the desk and positioned herself to outwards. Randolph scooted his chair back into position and unzipped his expensive slacks, removing his semi-hard member. Karen mentally cursed him, herself, and all the cruel chances of fate, and then began to suck.
Edmund Randolph sighed contentedly to himself, relishing the young women's considerable skills. Of course, it was far more than physical pleasure, these little games he like to play, a large portion of it was mental. Even when he was a child, Randolph had known that he was destined for great things, that he had skills that other people lacked. When he applied those skills, he could control people, make them do what he wanted. Not like those hypnotists or quacks either, there was nothing mental that he did to anybody. But when he found himself in almost any situation, he could figure out how to turn it to his advantage, to manipulate those around him. It was most satisfying when they realized what was happening to them, and tried to fight him. They soon found out that they had no choice, that he controlled everything. He gripped his desk tight as Karen brushed her tongue across a particularly sensitive spot. He was about to lean down and order her to do it again when the doors to his office opened unexpectedly, and the oily features of Kirk Reynolds appeared, looking nervous. "Sir, Mr. Hoffman is here to see you. He says it's absolutely urgent."
Randolph sighed.It was so bothersome when he had to deal with attorneys, but it was also useful A man like him made many enemies, and so men like Mr. Hoff were necessary to ensure that his plans were not interfered with. "All right, Kirk, you may send him in." The young man darted back out the door, looking relieved to have escaped a lashing. In the moments that they were alone, Randolph leaned down and murmed to his sucking administrator. "Don't you stop now, or there will be consequences." He didn't specify any specifics, for he found that the unknown often caused more dread than anything he could come up with. And so as the doors opened once again, revealing the rotund figure of Phillip Hoffman, he\still felt the warm mouth moving up and down.
"Phil, this is a surprise. What is it that so urgently brings you here, unannounced?" He looked at the attorney with an impatient expression "I thought you were supposed to be in Washington until tomorrow."
"Unpleasant news, I'm afraid," the lawyer responded in a nervous tone. "The attonrey general's office has secured an indictment against you." He looked at Randolph, bracing himself for the fallout.
"You were supposed to be handling that for me. I assumed that it was taken care of." Randolph's voice had shed it's usual silky quality, and instead sounded quivering and harsh.
"My acquiantance in the Justice Department was unfortunately unable to do anything in this case. The indictment is being handled personally by the attorney general, who was insistent on going forward."
Randolph's usually clear mind was clouded, his thoughts continueally focused in on the sensations emanating from his groin. Karen's pace had reached a peak, and Randolph felt his climax approaching. Temporarily ignoring his visitor, he clutched his desk with both hands as he spurted his seed into the waiting mouth under the desk. Sated again, he immediately felt his mind clear. Thank you, Karen, that was skillful indeed. You may leave. Now." He rolled backwards to give her room, and then spent a moment relishing her absolute humiliation as she emerged from underneath his desk and walked right past the disbelieving eyes of Phil Hoffman, which followed her fixatedly as she rushed out the door. Randolph broke Phil's trance by barking out the decision he had reached. "As for you, Phil, go to the attorney general and persuade him to drop this case. Offer him anything: money, drugs, girls, whatever it takes, just make this go away quickly." Phil nodded, and then left almost as quickly as Karen had, eager to escape further wrath. Randolph, alone once more, sat and thought. Yes, it was as it always was for him. A problem presented itself, and he saw the way through. He pitied the rest of the world for lacking this great gift.
By the time Karen returned to her desk, the rest of the administrative floor had gone home for the day. She had spent almost half an hour in the bathroom, gargling mouthwash, but as always the horrible taste remained. She sat down at her desk felling utterly defeated both physically and mentally. Looking around cautiously to ensure there were no lingering staff, she opened her desk drawer and removed a tattered photograph. The picture was of two small children sitting on a massive oak desk, while a middle aged man sat in the chair behind it, his delighted smile permanently frozen onto paper. She turned the picture over and read the handwritten caption for the thousandth time, and as faint memories of the past mingled with the overwhelming burden of the present, she began to cry, staining the aged paper with tears.:
"The Farley children have their first day of work! They'll have me out of a job in no time!"