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Authors: Theresa Taylor

BOOK: Shamed
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“Samantha Clark.”

“Samantha? It’s Hilary Carney PA to Stuart McDonnell.”

“Ah, yes. Hello Hilary. How can I help?” Samantha felt her bowels
clench. Stuart McDonnell “two N’s two LL’s” was trouble. Always trying to
chat
her up if they were ever in the lift. He had an eye for
the girls and it was generally understood that he believed his
employees,
the female ones at least, were his personal
playthings.  Worse than that though, he was a tough cookie who didn’t show
any mercy. Even worse; this could be
tripple
trouble.
Stuart McDonnell was the golf partner of Benjamin Carson.
The
Benjamin Carson - of the Carson Account.
The currently ‘fucked up’
Carson Account.

The words that followed came as no surprise to Samantha, but she wished
like hell that she hadn’t heard them.


Mr.McDonnell
has requested that you report
immediately to him.” And the line went dead.

“Shit!” Samantha hissed.

She still had her car keys clutched in her hand when she stepped out of
the elevator on the 15
th
floor and headed towards McDonnell’s
office. Her mind was spinning and she tried desperately to stop her knees from
trembling. She presented herself to Hilary Carney and was told to go straight
in.

“Straight in?”
Samantha asked inanely?

Hilary drew her words out as she responded as if speaking to a child,
her eyes not leaving the computer screen in front of her as her finger stabbed
on the left button of the mouse in her hand. “Yes......straight in.”

Straight in.
Not even told to wait. Shit!

Samantha dropped her car keys into her jacket pocket and knocked weakly
on the tall teak door before pushed it open and went through into the office.

Stuart McDonnell sat in a high back luxury chair behind an enormous oak
desk, his hands clasped near his face and the two index fingers touching his
lips pensively.

“Samantha?” he asked although she was sure he knew. She nodded, too
nervous to speak.

She looked towards the chair positioned in front of his desk but he
didn’t invite her to sit down. The office was light years apart from the lowers
floors. Wood panelled walls with hanging modern art works, floor to ceiling
windows looking out over the city, the view only ruined by the fact that it was
opposite another tall multi storey office block. Plush furnishings and even a
fully stocked bar in one corner. His desk sprawled before him, decorated
sparsely; telephone, a leather blotter, a plinth with a statue of a golfer in
full swing and three full size golden golf balls. A file
laying
open pushed to one side.  He was good looking, younger than her by about 4
years; twenty eight, maybe twenty nine.

“This morning,” he began slowly “I was on the 5
th
tee when I
received some rather disturbing news.” Oh s
hit!
She thought.
“My
friend Ben told me that his accountant was disturbed last night by an employee
of this company, alleging concerns over miss-appropriated funds from the Carson
Account.”

Shit!
She thought she was going to feint.

“I didn’t say that!” Samantha swallowed hard and steadied herself. “I
wasn’t sure that’s all, sure about some of the figures.” She took a deep
breath. “I never said they were miss-appropriated.”

His voice rose suddenly making her jump “Suggesting that we don’t know
what we are doing with their money.
A very, VERY, beneficial
account to this company!”

Samantha stepped back, wishing know she had chosen flats instead of
heels this morning, feeling
herself
teetering on the
slender shafts.

“It can’t happen.” He said quietly. “We can’t be put in this position.”

“I can put it right!” She blurted, immediately regretting what sounded
like an admission of guilt.

He stood and pressed his palms on the top of the desk.

“Hand in the Carson Account to your line manager and clear your desk!”
he said.
Shit! No!
She loved this job. She needed it too. He couldn’t
just throw her out like that! She glared at him, feeling the sense of injustice
rising in her but then managed to claw her way back from the edge and decided
to appeal to his better nature, praying that he had one!

“I can sort it.” She said, her voice trembling. “Just give me time.
There’s nothing wrong, it’s just a bit mixed up somewhere.” She drew breath. “I
need this job.” It sounded feeble.  “I love my job. I want to stay. I’ll
do anything.”

He stared at her for long moments before straightening and stepping
around the desk.

“I don’t fuck about Samantha.” McDonnell said. “I don’t give second
chances.”

She felt tears welling in her eyes. She fought back a sob and felt a
tear run down her cheek to her mouth. It tasted salty. A grin spread across
McDonnell’s face and he stepped casually behind her, her eyes stayed fixed
looking ahead to the large panoramic window behind the desk. Her body was
frozen in place, her face sullen like a naughty child, her eyes wet.

“Anything?”
He whispered suddenly in her ear
from behind her.  She shivered involuntarily.

“Now hang on a moment!” she blurted out, feeling angry at his
presumption. He strode away from her and stood at the window looking out with
his back to her, his hands clasped behind his back. “You can’t even think you
can get away with that!” The anger was evident in her voice.

“No, you are right.” He said peering down watching something below. “Of
course I apologise.” he sighed. “Just hand in the account and go.”

“What! This is ludicrous! You can’t do this!”

“That’s where you are wrong Samantha.”

“I won’t let you do this!” Her voice was almost a squeal.

“I think...” he said with a pause “You’ll let me do whatever I want.”

She laughed at his nerve, at the audacity and arrogance of the man.

“I think you will do as I want because you love your job, need your job
and...”

“And what?
If I suck your dick you’ll let me
carry on working for you?”

“And...” He continued, his tone controlled and factual “you have a
mortgage of $250,000, credit card debts of $25,000. Your car is lease hire;
$400 a month. Oh and you contribute to the care home fees for your mother.”

She froze. Her mouth was open but no words came out.  He looked
over his shoulder at her and smiled.

“I don’t fuck about Samantha.”

Tears rolled down her face now. She was trembling with anger but she
knew he had her circumstances nailed. The bastard! How did he know all this?

“However,” he continued “I’m not such a bad guy. If you play along then
maybe we can resolve this little matter and I can straighten things out with
Ben.” He turned and stepped over to the bar and poured himself a drink.

“Very generous!” she said resentfully.

What the fuck was she going to do? She couldn’t afford to lose her job.
But she was a strong woman. She had done well to build her career. She was
focused and resolute, she was determined and capable. But that didn’t
automatically mean you were in control. Somehow, someway, there was always
someone else who held sway over you no matter how competent or significant you
thought you were. She cursed him aloud. He laughed into the glass poised at his
lips and took a large swallow of the golden liquid. For some moments he stood
looking at her as she clumsily brushed the tears away from her face with her
sleeve.

“So how does this work?” She said through trembling lips.

A broad grin spread across his lips. “There, I knew you’d see
sense.” 

His grin turned to a momentary frown as he contemplated something.

“If you agree to do exactly as I ask Samantha then you will continue
with all your accounts. Continue with your job.
Simple as
that.”

“And what do I have to do?” She asked sounding bitter, not wanting to
ask the words. Again he took a few moments to think.

“You are an attractive girl Samantha.” He complemented her. “If you
oblige my.......my little dalliances.....do as I ask without protest, without
any dramas, then this error of yours will be overlooked completely and I shall
be satisfied.” He poured himself another drink. He was observing her now,
making her feel uncomfortable as his eyes roamed over her body. “See it as a
little test.
A test of your dedication to the company; to
yourself if that helps you.
Prove how much you want this job.” 

She swallowed hard. She could guess what this sick bastard wanted from
her. Well, as repulsed as she felt, she felt she had no choice. She had worked
so hard to get to this position. Years at College, years working her way up
through the company. She wasn’t going to let it all slip away. She would do
what he wanted and get it out of the way. Get it over and done with. It wasn’t
like she had never slept with a man before. She couldn’t even claim not to have
slept with a man when she thought there was an advantage to be gained, a nudge
up the ladder. She’d done that once. She’d had several boyfriends but her
career came first and there had been no-one on the scene for months now.
Months
now! Who are you kidding?
Two years at least!
Not
that she hadn’t considered it, even just for the sake of some sexual
gratification.
But she’d been so busy, so focused, she’d never found the
time. Well, now she was going to get that gratification; whether she wanted it
or not. She resolved herself to doing what needed doing. She wasn’t going to
lose everything. Not because of this bastard.

He walked across the room, circling her while his eyes roamed over her
then returned to his desk and perched on the facing edge.

“Take off your jacket Samantha.”

She paused for a moment then eased off her jacket. He nodded his head
towards the sofa along the wall and she stepped over and hung it across the
arm. Her fingers went to her blouse buttons before he had said anything else
and she caught herself, freezing as the first button popped open.
What are you
doing? Don’t make this easy for him!
A slight tip of his head suggested
that he wanted her to continue. With her bottom lip gripped between her teeth
she slowly undid each button, her fingers fumbling as she shook, until her
blouse fell open revealing her crimson lace brassiere. He remained patient,
giving no instruction now as she removed her blouse and placed it with the
jacket. A raised eyebrow was the signal to remove the brassiere. She held her
breath, and was about to plead with him when he spoke first.

“You can stop any time Samantha. You know that. You can just walk out
of here.” As if he had read her mind.
Yes, out of here and out of my job
,
she thought.
I know what you are you bastard
.

She reached behind her, struggled for a moment to unfasten the clasp,
then, with her eyes shut she let the brassiere fall away. It was the sound of
his shoes brushing lightly over the plush carpet that made her open her eyes
again. He was stood before her now; his cock was in his hand; semi erect. She
looked down at him,
then
at her breasts, exposed, the
nipples slightly hard. She looked into his eyes and then slowly lowered herself
onto her knees.

“Good girl!” her cooed.

She took him in her mouth and felt him grow harder against her tongue
as she slid it around his length. Her head rocked slowly as she worked him,
tasting him. It had been a long time. The silky skin was taught and ridged with
veins. She found a rhythm and also, to her surprise, found herself enjoying it
- squeezing her lips tight around the neck of his cock keeping the head in her
mouth as she withdrew then lashing her tongue around him and taking him to the
soft flesh at the back of her throat as she drew him back in. His breathing was
becoming
heavier,
a hand was holding the back of her
head, fingers twisting in her hair.  She let her teeth scrape along the
shaft for a moment before lashing her tongue wildly around him again. She felt
herself getting wet. It was turning her on, she couldn’t help it.
Well, if
you’ve got to do it you might as well enjoy it!
She told herself a little
surprised at her own licentiousness. She gripped the base of his cock with her
hand and squeezed as she hungrily worked at him.

He was gasping now, small grunts coming between breaths. She gripped a
little tighter and knew she had him close to the edge. She felt him tremble.
She had already decided that she wasn’t going to take it in her mouth. Samantha
went to release him and move her head away but he suddenly gripped her head
tighter and as she struggled she felt his cock buck and his cum jetted into her
mouth. As he held her she wondered if he would ever stop. His cock continued to
twitch, more and more cum filling her mouth. She gagged and some of his seed
cascaded from the corner of her mouth and dribbled over her chin.

Finally he released her and she allowed his cum to spill freely from
her mouth. It dripped in thick globules from her chin onto her chest, running
over her breasts. It made more mess but she felt satisfaction that he hadn’t
made her swallow.
A small victory.

He staggered away from her and leaned against the desk to compose
himself. Samantha stood and picked up her clothes. She was looking for a tissue
to wipe herself clean with.

“What are you doing?” He asked, making her pause. “You think that’s
it?”

She tried to speak but didn’t know what to say. Of course that wasn’t
it. How could she have been so naive? He would milk this for everything he
could get.

“Put your blouse back on.” He ordered her.
“But no
bra.”

Not comprehending she did as she was asked. He perched on the edge of
the desk
again,
his spent manhood now back in his
trousers out of sight. He told her to button the blouse. As she did so the
material clung to her and the dripping fluid of his spill began to soak
through.
Seeing it brought a childish grin to his face.

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