The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (6 page)

Despite the delays in getting to my office, I find I’m the first one there, though Thomas Johnson arrives only a couple minutes after me.

Seeing the older gentleman, I remember how Angela had looked when she’d first come in, and her telling me that her appearance had been in line with his fantasy. I realize I don’t know much about him. With Sheila as our boss, we don’t do a lot of chit-chatting.

“Lyden!” he exclaims as soon as he sees me. “I see your back on your feet. How are you?”

“A lot better, thanks,” I reply jovially. “If I can offer some advice, never run into a light pole. They’re not as soft as they look.”

He laughs at my half-joke saying, “I guess that’s why you got contacts?” He’s referring to my naked face, of course. I still don’t know why Angela was able to fix my near-sightedness, but not my colorblindness.

“Nope! That pole must have fixed my eyes,” I tell him happily, and try not to laugh at his disbelief.

Then I see AnnaBelle Lewis come in, and immediately feel a somber mood enter with her.

“Laughter is the devil’s tool,” AnnaBelle says to us seriously, and I see Thomas roll his eyes. Unfortunately, she sits at the desk next to mine, between me and where Ms. Lance sits. “It’ll corrupt your soul, and He’ll take over.”

“It’s good to see you too, AnnaBelle,” I respond, long since used to her pious views.

“Only our Lord and Savior is good, Mr. Snow. Though I’m gladdened that He has seen fit to grant you your health.” She looks at me sharply then, and I wonder if I have something on my nose. “I sense a dark and dangerous shadow over you,” she says ominously. “What heathen things have you been up to?”

Now, I’ve never been one too much into religion, but if she can sense the changes in me, then there really might be an almighty, and after everything else I’ve learned, I realize I have a lot more to learn. Then again, for some reason her holier-than-thou attitude gets under my skin.

“Oh, not much. Just went to the club last night, banged a babe while her roommate watched, and drove home. But before that I was hitting a punk babe with blue hair and pierced—“

“Mr. Snow, that is quite enough,” Ms. Lance says right at that moment, walking in.

I can see AnnaBelle glaring at me out of the corner of my eye as I sheepishly get behind my desk. She really didn’t deserve that treatment. I feel heartsick for my actions.

Debbie Jones is the last one to enter, and after sharing that kiss with the large Guard Lansbury, I look at the slightly chubby coworker in a different light. She’s by no means ugly, but does have some rather nice curves to her. I wonder if she kisses as well as Lansbury?

Debbie gives me a shy smile, and I realize I’ve been staring and try to bury myself in my work. As I continue to compile data from various spreadsheets, I can feel my vitality draining. I also note that both Debbie and Ms. Lance keep staring at me. The drain isn’t great, but it is noticeable. AnnaBelle studiously ignores me.

‘Blue haired, and pierced, huh?’ A popup says on my desk. I see it’s a message from Johnson. Smiling, I nod to the older man across from me. ‘Lucky!’ is his next reply.

Guard Lansbury walks in, holding something, and leaves it at Sheila’s desk. The guard gives me a very obvious wink as she walks past my desk. I can literally feel AnnaBelle’s glare against my back.

“Mr. Snow, can I see you up here?” Ms. Lance states firmly.

Great. . . . Did Sheila see those messages from Thomas?

As I walk up to her, I see my wallet sitting on her desk. How’d that get here? Then I see the look in Sheila’s eyes. . . . Oh, great. Now I’ve really pissed her off.

Wait, maybe this is a good thing. If she gets pissed off at me enough, she’ll fire me and then I can still claim I was living normally.

“Mind explaining how you got into the building without your wallet. Or ID?” she demands of me.

Now’s my chance. Puffing out my chest, I look her dead in the eyes and say in my most pompous tone, “I walked in through the doors. Is there supposed to be a back door for us flunkies?”

Sheila’s jaw tightens, and I can see she’s shaking from trying to hold in her wrath. I hear a number of gasps from behind me, at my audacity.

“The Devil’s work,” a mumbled voice says, but it can only be AnnaBelle.

My boss gets herself back under control, grabs my wallet, and stands up. “Come with me, please, Mr. Snow.”

I let my smile show at her back as I follow her out the door and into an unused conference room, far enough away from our office that I’m sure my soon-to-be previous coworkers won’t hear her yelling at me. Or anyone else for that matter.

“Mind explaining yourself in there?” she asks me, her tone level. Her brown eyes are trying to bore into me, and I can feel my energy levels draining further.

Just then I get an idea.

I know I shouldn’t, but after putting up with Sheila Lance as a boss for around a year now, I want to get some of my own back. I’m not entirely certain how my ability works, but if I keep myself under control, I shouldn’t hurt her. Maybe I can even give her some energy instead.

At least, I hope I can.

Today, she’s wearing a dark suit jacket over a white button up and dark flowing pants. Her black hair is tied back in its usual bun. I can’t help but wonder if the reason she’s always so ornery is because her hair gives her headaches.

“No explanation’s needed,” I tell her, concentrating on her body as I speak and allowing my instincts to take over. I notice a slight shiver run through her. I also notice a depreciable drop in my stamina.

“You’ve been with us for some time now, haven’t you Mr. Snow?” Her voice sounds a little husky now, but I can still see anger smoldering inside her brown eyes.

“I’ve been working. . . under you. . . for a little over a year,” I tell her, concentrating on the innuendo, and sensing her body becoming more receptive to me. Am I becoming a succubus? Is there such a thing as a male succubus? I’ll have to look that up later.

I notice her eyes dilating as she contemplates me, tapping her finger on my wallet. “That still doesn’t excuse your behavior in there.”

Turning my back on my boss, I go and lock the door. I crank up my concentration on Sheila. “I think I know what this is really about,” I tell her, and notice her eyes glazing over. Oops, maybe too much. I back off a little, and just in time, too as true weariness starts to worm its way in.

She gives herself a shake, before saying, “M—Mr. Snow. What do you think you’re doing?” She tries to protest as I walk over and start undoing the buttons on her jacket. She doesn’t try to stop me though, and it only takes a couple seconds to get it off. “This is highly inappropriate,” she tells me, but her voice is barely a whisper and her eyes are closed.

Continuing to follow my instincts, I harden my voice and command her, “I don’t allow my slaves to talk, unless spoken to.” Her eyes snap open, and I can see the anger attempt to reassert itself, but by now her shirt is unbuttoned and I tweak one of her nipples through her bra. She shudders again, closing her eyes. “That’s right. I’m going to make you my own little cum slut.”

I’ve never treated a woman like this before, but everything inside me is pushing me to keep going. By the way she’s reacting; I think I might just get away with this.

“But. . . I’m your boss,” she almost whimpers, then moans as I twist her other nipple.

“Hmm, you have a point,” I concede as I slip my hand inside her bra, and gently rub her tender areola. “In front of others, you will continue to be my boss. But when we’re alone, you’d better return to being my submissive slut. I’d recommend, however, that you treat me a little better out there, lest I have to exact harsher punishments from you.” Unsnapping her bra, I finally get a good look at her bare chest and smile. Her nipples are both hard and pointing straight out from her chest. Her ample bosom is likely about a C-cup, some part of my mind informs me. “You will find I can be a gentle master, but only to an obedient slave.”

I walk around behind her and marvel that I have this high-and-mighty woman at my whim.
Not yet,
some part of my subconscious informs me, and I realize that there’s one more formality.

Reaching around her waist, I undo her pants, and gently slide them down her hips. Standing back up, I gently kiss the back of her neck, while lightly running my fingers up and down her arms. Her entire body is shivering now, and not from any cold that might be in this conference room. Slipping my right hand into the front of her black panties, I pinch her outer labia together, and then rub them against each other, eliciting a moan from her. I can feel how hot she is already, and know now is the time to ask my question.

“Are you going to be an obedient slave? Or am I going to need to punish you first?” My voice, whispered directly into her ear seems to spark one last bit of defiance.

“I am your boss, Mr. Snow. I will not be—“ I cut her off by pressing hard against her slit, and painfully tweaking her left nipple again.

“Looks like you will need some training,” I tell her as she gasps in both pleasure and pain. I walk us over to the massive conference table, and bend her over it.

“What do you think you’re—“

Whack
!

She howls as I spank her, but I know there is still a bit of fight in her as she resists me pulling her wet panties off.

Whack
!

Her panties are now on the floor, and I can see a red hand print on her left buttocks. Some inner part of me feels bad for this woman, but then I remember all the times she’s chewed me out, or given me impossible deadlines and slap her other cheek.

Whack
!

I can now smell the unmistakable musk of a woman in heat, and ask, “Are you going to be my obedient slave now?”

She whimpers as she nods, but that’s not good enough.

Whack
!

“Say it, so that there can be no misunderstanding, Sheila Lance.” There is an odd sensation in the air as I use her name, and it actually feels like it settles into my boss.

“Yes! I will be your slave,” she cries out, and I’m thankful that she chose a conference room far from any other offices.

“What else?” I ask, and lift my hand. I have no further intention of spanking her, unless she pushes me to it, but a little motivation won’t hurt.

“I’ll be your obedient little cum slut,” she says hurriedly. “I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just. . . Just please, master, command your slave. What can your slave do to please her master?”

If I hadn’t already been rock hard, hearing those words would have gotten me there. I bring my hand down and she flinches, but I don’t strike this time. Instead, I gently rub her red rear. I do this for a couple of seconds, but a weakness in my knees informs me that my energy levels are getting low. It probably doesn’t help that I got no sleep last night, either.

Dropping down behind her, I say, “My slave deserves a reward for being obedient.” Licking her from slit to asshole, I make her moan in further anticipation. Reaching between her legs, I place my right thumb at the nub of her clitoris, and shove my tongue as far into her as I can.

She cums instantly and I feel new strength flood into me. I continue to apply pressure to her clit, while simultaneously throwing up a mental wall, blocking further energy from leaving her. I don’t need too much from her right now. Perhaps if I just sip a little off each orgasm, I won’t really hurt her.

She continues to writhe on the table, moaning loudly, and I realize I’m still pressing hard on her sensitive point. Standing up, I back away from her, and sit down on the largest chair in the room. She quickly turns and looks at me, wondering what I have in mind next. Is that hope in her eyes?

“I want my slave to please herself, while I watch,” I tell her with a smile. “Please me with a good show, and I’ll reward my slave.” I emphasize my words with a grab of my crotch.

Without any hesitation, she jumps onto the edge of the table, and displays her wet pussy to me. She is completely clean-shaven, and I wonder if it’s just coincidence, or if she’d planned on being with someone else tonight?

Regardless, she’s here now and smiling at me. I smile back while she spreads her lips with two fingers, and uses another to rub up and down along her clit.

My cock is straining at my pants and I pull it out, lightly stroking it. As soon as it pops free, Sheila licks her lips, giving it a hungry stare. She jumps off the table and approaches me, but I stop her.

“Uh-uh. I told you to give me a show,
then
I’ll reward you.” She pouts for only the merest moment, before turning around, bending over, and slipping two fingers into her wet snatch. Sucking her social finger into her mouth, she lubes it up, before reaching behind her, and slipping it into her anus. “That’s right, slave. Show me how slutty you can be. Get yourself off, and I’ll let you lick my cock.”

She smiles at me between her slender ankles, and starts to go wild on her fingers. Her ample breasts are bouncing in rhythm to her left hand diving in and out of her coochy, while her right finger teases her puckered hole. She continues this until her knees buckle, and she collapses on the floor, quivering and moaning in orgasmic delight.

Once again I feel energy leech away from her as it flows into me, but I block it after only a little bit, and just enjoy the show. Perhaps my new abilities won’t be so bad after all. As long as I keep myself in check.

“It’s time for your reward,” I tell her, standing up, and walking towards her. She’s immediately on her hands and knees, practically begging for my cock.

“Thank you master for rewarding your slave!” she moans as her hands grip my hips, and pulls me to her.

I tap the head against her forehead, and she impales her mouth along my rod. Her tongue ravishes the underside of my penis, while she strives to get as much of me down her throat as possible. As had happened with Becky last night, somehow she manages to get all of me into her throat. I’m so turned on by everything that I can already feel my culmination coming. I grab the back of her head, holding her down on me as I fire off powerful gobs of my goo directly into her stomach.