the ladystouch Third Level 2 Assignment

[theladystouch]

Steve stood outside the metal door, waiting, running his hand through his short, dark hair. There was nothing else to do. The door in front of him was as innocent of a doorknob as the one behind him, and the blank white walls offered no distraction.

The damnable thing was that Steve knew he was being watched. He knew that this delay was intentional, and he resented it. He was aware of his status; there was no need to remind him this way. Power games always annoyed him, but, remembering what was at stake, he tried to control his impatience.

Eventually that patience was rewarded, and the door in front of him opened. Schooling his strong, sharp features into impassivity, Steve marched into the room beyond. This room was not much of an improvement, save it was larger…and the man in the grey, worsted suit offered plenty of distraction.

The white walls and white linoleum floor were accented by the round, chrome-and-white-formica table. The two white, plastic chairs were as uncomfortable as they looked, but, then, Steve had no expectation of comfort in this interview.

“Hello, Steve. Be seated.” Steve silently followed the order, his manner tense and guarded.

The heavyset man in the suit took the other chair, sat, and perched a pair of dark-framed reading glasses on his aquiline nose. His iron-grey hair was brushed back from his temples, framing and emphasizing heavy jowls. He opened the folder on the table. “I’ve been reviewing your file, and it seems your performance has improved only marginally.”

“Sir, there have been extenuating circumstances. Some of the intelligence I received was inaccurate, causing the security breach. But, Sir,” Steve said, desperation creeping into his voice, “the quality of the slaves I deliver has always been excellent.”

“Yes,” he conceded. “That is true. You do seem to have a knack for training these girls. You manage to deliver obedient slaves who haven’t had their spirit broken. But I cannot overstate the risk you exposed the company to when you allowed a trainee to escape.”

“Yes, Sir,” Steve dropped his gaze, shifting nervously in his chair.

“It seems your performance was deemed substandard last year, as well.”

“Yes, Sir.” Steve silently fumed. Last year’s review had been patently unfair; the result of professional jealousy from a superior who felt threatened by his competence. It didn’t matter. The results were the same: he had been forbidden to see his sister, Fran, for an entire year.

He couldn’t face another year without seeing her. Fran, thirteen years younger, had always been the delight of his life. He missed her terribly, and felt responsible for her. She worked at the company headquarters in Montreal, but she had no idea what he did for the company…and he intended to keep it that way. She must never know that she was hostage to his continued good behavior.

The man in the suit made a production of appearing to consider Steve, weighing his decision carefully.

Sweat broke out under Steve’s arms and between his shoulder blades. He tried hard to hide his anxiety, but he knew he had failed when the big man smiled.

“In cases like this, where the decision is too close to call, I like to allow a little input from the subject.”

He stood, turned away from the table, and, grasping the tab of his zipper, slowly lowered it, opening his trousers. Reaching in, he pulled out his flaccid cock, and, turning to Steve, said, “Suck my dick, slave.”

Steve hit his knees, and proceeded to earn a favorable performance review.