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Under the authoritarian rule of a mare dubbed the 'Cajun Queen' by her admirers and detractors alike, TexoGen was not only the largest medical wonder-drug company on earth, it was also history's most powerful matriarchy. Ruthless determination had lifted its bayou-born filly turned CEO out of the muddy poverty of her childhood to reign among the elite of Big Pharma.

Establishing her headquarters and primary research facility in the tech friendly city of San Francisco, Victoria LeRoy's swank office occupied the apex of an architecturally unique, double-helix shaped building dominating an entire block of the city's financial district. Its twin, spiraling towers, joined by connecting sky bridges, dominated the skyline and afforded breathtaking views of the city, the bay, Alcatraz Island, and the iconic Golden Gate Bridge.

Despite the panoramic glory just beyond the building's floor to ceiling glass walls, staff in her employ were too engrossed with making history and money to pause and absorb something as frivolous as a million dollar view. One such industrious young buck, like many others occupying the lower levels of the curiously shaped office structure, sat at his workstation with his back to the windows. Earbuds blocked the surrounding lab clatter and chatter and provided focus via the soothing, symphonic strains of Beethoven.

Tommy Ortuno's fingers typed furiously at his laptop, intermittently pausing to brush away a persistent, errant lock of his long, golden mane that mischievously returned every few minutes to taunt his eyes. Publishing in the high stakes world of pharmaceuticals is a tricky business requiring a knack for releasing just the right dose of legitimate, groundbreaking scientific details without surrendering valuable commercial secrets to the competition. To date, Tommy had navigated these perilous waters successfully by delivering breakthroughs benefiting the company's bottom line while simultaneously enhancing its reputation as a scientific powerhouse. Management had taken notice.

He was rocketing upward along a thrilling trajectory. Still shy of thirty, he was considered a wonder-colt and given as much funding and room to experiment as he could handle. Within two years of being hired, he made the head of his lab group. Not exactly a supervisory position, it nevertheless qualified him to be queued at the door for the higher level and much coveted position of the Director of Cancer Research. Competition for the post was fierce, but if selected, he would run five separate labs with over two hundred staff in the Bay Area and at other TexoGen facilities scattered around the globe.

The stratospheric salary accompanying the promotion would be a welcome plus, but trivial in comparison to the power he would acquire to direct so many capable minds. Akin to having himself cloned, numerous extensions of his own will would be working to achieve his scientific dreams and ideals. Giddiness overcame him whenever he mused upon the prospect, but he wasn't so vain as to think he was magnificent enough to safely rest upon his laurels. Driven to excel and expand his whiz kid status, the young palomino stallion's will was bent entirely upon his latest research paper.

Thus preoccupied, Tommy failed to notice his supervisor's administrative assistant, Leslie, lurking behind him. Nor did he hear the tiny, effeminate, black stallion clear his throat or speak in his faint, wispy voice. His presence only became evident when a delicate, spindly hand perched unexpectedly upon Tommy's shoulder like a jungle tarantula.

Surprise made Tommy's heart race and his body stiffen involuntarily. Often lost in thought, he was susceptible to moments of panic when rudely returned to the real world. Enacting a calming exercise taught to him by his counselor, he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly to calm himself. As the surrounding air passed his nostrils, he detected the unique, wafting scent of lilac scented cologne that followed Leslie like a faint, but refreshing hint of spring.

"Oh, hi Leslie," Tommy said calmly before turning around.

"Sorry to startle you. Busy, huh?"

"Always."

"Well. This is more important. The boss wants to see you."

Tommy grimaced figuring his supervisor, Mr. Tibnor, wanted another meeting about Tommy's infamous travel reimbursement fiasco.

"If this is about that voucher, I've explained the mixed up credit card charges to Tibnor and to Finance and Accounting three times already and they..."

"Ha! That's a huge cock-up alright, but I suspect this is about something bigger."

"Really?" asked Tommy, his anxiety turning to excitement. "Has the selection committee decided on the director's position?"

Tommy instantly regretted showing so much raw desire for the job to an underling. Fortunately, Leslie didn't seem surprised by his eagerness or inclined to mock him.

"No. Not that I know of, but I'm sure you're going to get it. You're too amazing for anyone to pass over."

Leslie's small hand was still on Tommy's shoulder moving subtly back and forth as if stroking him.

"When you get selected, I'll help you celebrate if you want. Just name the place and time. I'm all yours."

Leslie batted his eyes coquettishly, but Tommy was oblivious to the double entendre or the obvious attempt at seduction.

"Thanks. If they do select me, I would gratefully accept your assistance setting up a party for the whole division. That would help me start the job with a bang, don't you think?"

Frowning, Leslie was clearly unhappy that his coy flirting went unnoticed, but he shrugged it off with his usual buoyant optimism, vowing to try again later.

"Sure. I'm good at that, but it's premature to plan, and you've got more important worries. The big boss wants to talk to you about something right now."

"Big boss? Not Tibnor?"

"Bigger," Leslie teased with a giggle, his usual effervescence returning in full vigor.

"Westergarde?"

"Higher than the Chief Research Director."

Leslie's smile stretched broader as he reveled in the guessing game.

"One of the VPs?"

The girlish buck shook his head, barely able to contain his mirth.

"Who's higher than that except...not the Cajun...I mean, not Ms. LeRoy? The CEO?!"

''Correct. That's what I like about you, Tommy, hard working, clever...and oh so handsome. I bet she wants to run her swamp demon fingernails through your beautiful wavy mane."

Even Leslie's inappropriate references to his appearance failed to register in the nervous palomino's consciousness. Tommy swallowed hard, and his pulse accelerated again. Few names besides Victoria LeRoy were capable of instilling the bewildering agglomeration of admiration, reverence, and dread that gripped him.

Leaders of industry and heads of state trod carefully when dealing with the Louisiana-born filly from the backwoods bayous of the Mississippi delta. Having fought, clawed, and most of all earned her way to the top with a combination of guts, bravado, ruthlessness, intelligence, and cunning, she was an indomitable force akin to a tidal wave, or alternatively, the gravitational pull of a black hole depending on whether she swept you aside or sucked you into her ever expanding empire.

No ignorant bog rat, she was elegant and sophisticated when presenting herself in public. Linguistic telltales of her French-Cajun origins only surfaced as a deliberate tool of intimidation or on the rare occasions when she lost self-control. If you were present and her Acadian accent did manifest, it was a warning as blatant as the shaking of a rattlesnake's tail. Woe unto any poor soul, whether foolish or ignorant, who mistook her for a dimwitted hick. Those who underestimated her were devoured faster than a deer swimming neck deep in an alligator hole.

"You got any idea what she wants?" fretted Tommy.

"None, but someone higher up in the admin food chain might know."

"When did you say she wanted this meeting?"

"As fast as you can get to her office in the penthouse."

"Shit."

The effeminate assistant's giggling faded and was forgotten as Tommy logged off his laptop and hustled away. Even Leslie's encouraging pat on his tight butt was scattered and lost amid the whirlwind of anxious thoughts tumbling through Tommy's brain.

The phrase 'ASAP' from the CEO was not to be ignored lightly, but Tommy desperately needed information to prepare, so he stopped at the desk of Mrs. Savage.

Assistant to Dr. Westergarde, the ancient, but still spry, gray mare was an inveterate gossip and collector of company secrets. Every conversation with her typically devolved into either an interrogation of her victim's personal life or an outpouring of well meant but unwelcome advice. Tommy screwed up his courage and took the risk of conversational battle hoping for an unlikely victory against impossible odds. Fortunately, no one else was around her cubicle affording Tommy hope that any embarrassing verbal missteps would be private, at least until after he left her company.

In her grandmotherly sweater, ankle-length dress, and old fashioned bun hairdo, she smiled brightly as he approached. Being the sort of person who wore her emotions on her face like a neon sign, Tommy was encouraged by the lack of concern or foreboding he had feared might be waiting there for him.

"Good morning, Tommy. How are you today? Shouldn't you be in the CEO's office? Leslie went looking for you."

"He found me. I'm on my way, but first I'd like to know what this is about."

"I wasn't told."

"Is it about the credit card?"

"Could be, I suppose. You really screwed up with that. Hiring a sex worker with the company card..."

The last thing Tommy wanted was anyone else to know about that, so he interrupted her and lowered his own voice.

"I didn't know that's what she was. I thought I was hiring a guide. I was lost in a foreign country...I mean, I didn't partake of her services...other than as a guide..."

"Oh, Tommy, that is so like you. So innocent. You really need to get yourself a worldly young lass who'll take care of you and protect you from yourself. Marriage would do you good. You're handsome and successful enough to have your pick. I know several promising fillies here in the company, and I have a niece..."

It was clear she had no more information than Leslie, and Tommy didn't have time for, or want, her matchmaking services.

"Thanks, maybe you can give me their names later, but I've got to go. Ms. LeRoy did say immediately."

"I'll make a list," Ms. Savage called after him as he escaped to the express elevator bank. "Drop by anytime, and we can discuss their merits. Bye, Tommy."

Once in the safety of the elevator car, he cringed knowing he was trapped and socially obliged to humor her meddling in his love life. Several awkward dates with unpromising mares now haunted his future. Berating himself for his tactical blunder, he swore aloud and punched the button labeled 'Executive Suite'.

It was a novel experience ascending to the top floor. Only the CEO, her secretary, and a few other corporate big wigs had offices at that stratospheric height. Several other unimportant staff shared portions of the ride with him but they kept their faces in their phones until exiting the car one by one leaving him the only passenger reaching the terminal level.

The door slid aside silently allowing admittance to a hallway running the length of the inside curve of the south tower. Glass ceilings and walls afforded a vertiginous view encompassing the deep blue sky down to the central atrium at ground level. A series of widely spaced doors to his left and right led to the VP suites. Directly in front of him, a connecting rung acted as a sky bridge leading to the opposite tower where LeRoy's office commanded the entire upper floor.

Crossing the glass walled gap was a surreal experience akin to flying, except the only sound was piped in music too faint to identify as anything other than something vaguely orchestral. He approached a semicircular reception desk of exotic tropical wood. Beyond it stood two ominous brass doors covered with bas relief artistic depictions of equinity's phylogenetic tree. The imposing portal was the final barrier between him and whatever doom awaited inside.

Dianna Steele, LeRoy's personal secretary, was typing fastidiously as Tommy meekly approached. Immaculately dressed in an elegantly tailored skirt suit that complemented her cream colored fur and silky auburn mane, she was as beautiful as she was professional.

In stark contrast to her formidable and aloof boss, Dianna was a friendly and engaging mare who always found time to say hello to even the lowest level staff. Tommy, who was not particularly gregarious especially around females, had found it easy to talk to her on several occasions including once when she surprised him by asking to share a lunch hour in the company's outdoor cafe.

"Hi, Tommy," she said greeting him cheerfully and pausing her industry to lavish her full attention upon him.

"Hello, Dianne. I uh, was told Ms. LeRoy wants to see me?

"Yes. That's correct."

Her benevolent nature was his last hope to acquire some intelligence before the coming ordeal.

"Any idea what she wants? I could sure use a clue and a few minutes to prepare. I'm sweating blood. God! I hope it's not about the mix up with the company card..."

"Mentoring," Dianna said matter-of-factually interrupting his rambling. "That's all I know. Sorry I can't tell you more."

"Mentoring?"

"Yep. Consider this a golden career opportunity." Winking, she added, "Don't screw it up."

Having meant her remark as a joke, she smiled, then realized how nervous Tommy really was and pitied him.

"Relax, Tommy. It's going to be okay. Don't let her intimidate you. Victoria is much nicer than she seems. I work directly with her every day, and I'm still alive to talk about it."

He didn't believe any of her reassurances, no matter how well meant, and was beginning to feel dizzy. What kind of mentoring would a person at LeRoy's level offer him other than an ultimatum to shape up or find employment elsewhere? An executive in a hurry and deferring her calendar to a low-level underling could only mean trouble.

"That's easy for you to say. You're not being called to the woodshed. Help me, please. You know her well. Give me some clues."

"The best I can do is give you a quick tip. Pay attention to her accent. If she uses neutral American English, that usually means nothing is wrong, and she is as close to pleasant as she ever gets. If you hear French, she's going for the kill and you'd better run."

"Standard American is good and Cajun-French is bad," Tommy summarized. "Got it. Do I wait out here until she calls?"

He moved to take a seat, but Dianne stood up and beckoned him to follow her.

"Don't get comfortable. She wants you to go right in."

Dianne put her hands upon the handles of the forbidding doors, pulled one partially open and peeked inside. Tommy's stomach birthed a dozen butterflies that fluttered about threatening to make him puke. Practicing his breathing exercises, he managed to return the errant insects to their perches.

With no alternative but to stagger forward, Tommy followed Dianna into the executive suite, where she deftly stepped behind him, closing the doors as she exited. The audible click of a sliding deadbolt sent Tommy's butterflies to take flight anew.

While pondering why Dianne would lock the door, a more ominous thought occurred. Perhaps Ms. LeRoy had done it from her desk using a hidden switch. Either way, he was gripped by the inescapable sensation that he was a condemned prisoner facing his final judgment.

Cavernous, occupying most of the tower's top floor, the executive suite was larger than his lab, consisting of an egregious abundance of open space proclaiming louder than a trumpeted fanfare the loftiness of its occupant's status. Comfortable chairs and small sofas were arranged in intimate groups for casual conversation. A fully stocked wet bar capable of hosting a party for a hundred thirsty revelers stood nearby. Art in the form of sculpture, pottery, paintings, and ancient artifacts occupied plinths, shelves, easels, and other methods of display as appropriate to their form. Walls at either end of the suite were bisected by doors leading to hidden rooms beyond.

In the middle of it all against the outer glass wall was a gently curved desk of light hued, burled wood vast enough to serve as a runway upon which fashion models could strut, pivot, twirl, and display their wares. Inlaid with patterns of what appeared to be silver and gold, Tommy suspected that it cost as dearly as an Italian race car and that to place a shoe upon it would be sacrilege akin to dancing upon the hood of a Ferrari.

Behind the seductively expensive workstation sat a white Appaloosa with midnight black leopard spots dotting the snowy landscape of her body. Clothed in a frilly white blouse and dark blazer, the tantalizing patterns in her fur were hidden except for two trails of irregular dark blotches running from below her raven mane like droplets of spilled ink along the sides of her neck to disappear under her collar. Of jewelry, she wore little beyond a sapphire and diamond wedding ring and similarly styled studs in her tall ears.

Wearing no crown, but nevertheless regal in demeanor, she was the queen of the biotech industry. Her throne was currently tilted forward over the conference phone as if trying to intimidate the electronic device and by proxy the person at the other end. Harsh words were exchanged, though Tommy was deaf to the other half of the conversation muffled as it was by her headset.

Observing Tommy standing paralyzed thirty feet away, Victoria paused her tirade, flashed him a brief smile, and gestured for him to take a seat in the solitary chair in front of her huge desk. Of Louis XIV style design, the innocuous bit of furniture with its clean lines, rounded back, decorative carvings and leather upholstery was inseparable in Tommy's mind from a death row electric chair, or a seat at the inquisition. Hesitatingly, he walked towards her and sat, idly wondering if the chair was a reproduction or an actual period piece from the Palace of Versailles itself. Considering how wealthy Victoria was, and judging the value of the art in her office to be worth more than ten years of his salary, he assumed it was genuine.

CEO LeRoy subsequently ignored him. Enveloped within her Cajun persona, she was in full battle mode. The queen was in court, and heads would roll if any dared defy her.

"...A gris gris __i_upon them, Galen. I said go for the _couilles_ ii_. Simontech, c'est donné iii ; they're weak, out of cash, out of investors, and ripe for plundering. My offer stands, and it is the best they will ever get."

Tommy fidgeted in his antique seat during the tense silence that followed. Galen Dorthammer was the VP of acquisitions, a powerful buck not easily bullied or intimidated, but Tommy pitied him, and in turn, dread for his own fate multiplied.

"Galen...Galen...Galen! Shut your fuckin' mouth right now and listen. I don't care how dieu damné_ivproud they are of their accomplishments or how much of their hearts and souls went into Simontech. They can sell to me at my price and earn a hefty reward for their hard work,or **ça va chier_** v . "

She paused again, only for a few seconds.

" C'est n'importe quoi!vi They're ridinga dying horse into the desert. Make them believe that, Galen. Tell them I will destroy them utterly leaving them nothing if they don't give me what I want. You know I will. Convey that sense of certainty and they will capitulate."

During the ensuing and more lengthy silence, Tommy felt the awkwardness of being made to wait and pretend patience. He wanted to check his phone for messages, but didn't dare retrieve it from his vest pocket. Instead, he remained still, trying to appear poised despite the urging of his autonomous flight response to escape.

"Cruel? Don't get sentimental on me, Galen. This is business. Now get me that company or clear out your desk. C'est toutvii!"

She closed the call firmly with a deliberate stab of her finger. Thunderclouds hung about her brow threatening violence until she glanced anew at Tommy. The terrified palomino would have suffocated under her malevolent gaze if it lasted a few seconds longer, but a radical transformation from anger to friendly delight eased his fears enough that he was able to resume breathing.

"Tommy! Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Possessing amazing outward control, her belligerent bayou accent scuttled into its secret den like a crayfish. Remembering Dianna's advice, Tommy relaxed slightly even though he wasn't fooled by her feigned gratitude. What choice was there for anyone in the company but to answer her summons? His tail twitched noticeably.

"Are you nervous?" she asked with seemingly genuine concern.

Tommy was petrified.

"A little," he admitted figuring a half truth was better than a lie she would easily detect.

"Well, don't be. You are not in any trouble. Quite the opposite really."

Tommy dared hope, but thought it best to keep his mouth shut as much as possible to avoid saying anything stupid. Powerful people, especially mares, made him nervous. He leaned forward and put on his best I'm interested, please enlighten me face_._

"Today is a day of opportunity," she continued. "I have been reviewing the list of candidates for the Director of our Cancer Research Group."

Tommy's heart revved like a race car, from excitement, though, instead of panic. This was a big moment indeed if she was offering him the promotion, though he couldn't understand why she would intervene at this level. As CEO, she had a right to weigh in on all hiring decisions, but meddling this far down the food chain, especially to the extent of tendering an offer for the position was just never done.

"I know it's unusual for the CEO to be having this discussion with you," she added as if reading his mind. "I can see by your puzzlement..."

Tommy cringed at his own transparency.

"...that you are wondering why. That's fair, so let me enlighten you, but first I ask that you promise to me that none of the following conversation will ever leave this room. I need your personal commitment to not divulge any details of the deeply intimate matter that I am about to discuss. Before you agree, I promise to you that nothing said or discussed in this meeting will be held against you even if you reject my proposal. If that's too much to accept without further elaboration, you are free to back out now at no cost to your standing in the company."

Sweat formed on Tommy's brow. What the fuck had he stumbled into? Whatever it was, it was hip deep and beginning to stink.

She had teased him with the carrot of the position he desired. The clear implication of linking it to her "intimate matter" was that he was out of the running if he said no to whatever she wanted, and further advancement was unlikely despite what she was promising. This was either going to propel him far within the organization or destroy him utterly.

Believing that he had no choice, Tommy decided to satisfy his curiosity. What could she want from him anyway that was so terrible?

"Yes, ma'am. I promise discretion and absolute secrecy. You can rely on me."

Her eyebrows rose, suspicious perhaps of his ready acceptance. Placing her forearms upon the desk, her tone serious, she probed him further.

"Before you commit completely, I want you to know that if you do reveal anything of this conversation, it will be your word against mine. The best lawyers in the business work for me. They will crush you utterly if you betray me in the slightest. Is that abundantly clear?"

His last chance to tuck tail and run was before him. This was life or death in the corporate jungle, and he was the frightened prey facing the toothsome predator. Could he run fast and far enough to escape her clutches or did he stand and fight? Having already agreed to her terms, he opted to hold his ground.

"Ma'am, that will not be necessary. Business secrets are safe with me. I find corporate espionage disgusting, and I am loyal to this company. I want to excel on my own ideas and hard work. I swear to keep confidential whatever we discuss."

Victoria leaned back and smiled a smug grin, amused by his ignorance.

"Corporate secrets? I suppose that might be a logical deduction even if it is absolutely wrong. However, I accept your pledge. You will still have the opportunity at the end to turn down my proposal, but until then, just relax and listen to my story of woe."

Tommy swallowed hard. Story of woe? Concerned that he had truly fucked up, he reconsidered flight, but remembered that the doors behind him were locked. The predator stalking him was more dangerous than he thought. The odds of him becoming her meal tripled.

"Do you know how old I am, Tommy?" she asked as if it were a perfectly ordinary question for a CEO to pose to an underling.

"N...n...no," he stuttered perplexed and feeling uncomfortable with the trend of the conversation.

"Thirty seven. That's not bad for being where I am career-wise, especially for a mare. I'm worth billions, and I worked and fought hard to get here against steep odds. I did it by never giving up or giving in to the obstacles thrown before me. I've rewritten the rules when I had to and broke them when I couldn't."

Every word she spoke was well known, and Tommy honestly thought at that moment that she was a goddess capable of anything.

"But now I find myself faced with a rule even I can't violate or revise," she continued. "Can you guess what it is?"

Unable to fathom her riddle, Tommy shook his head.

"It's my ticking biological clock. I want to have a foal before it's too late, and my husband, whom I love even more than this company, is infertile."

"Oh. I see," said Tommy even though he didn't. "But why tell me? I don't know anything about fertility treatments. That's a whole different department. I do cancer research. You have plenty of great scientists like Kyalla Myumbibi who is doing amazing things with in vitro fertilization..."

"Once again you have made a poor assumption and ran the wrong way with it, Tommy."

Chagrined, Tommy became certain he was failing whatever bizarre kind of interview this was.

"Ms. Myumbibi cannot give me what I want, and not because of any lack of knowledge or skill, but because she is female."

Several heart beats thumped loudly in Tommy's ears before he comprehended, or a least thought he comprehended, her meaning. Grasping only a part of the solution, he rushed once again to give what he hoped was the right answer.

"Are...are you asking me to be a sperm donor?"

"Ouiviii! Oui! Well done. That's right. I've been told you are bright, but you wouldn't work here if you weren't would you?"

It was a condescending remark, but he didn't care. The slightest praise from her now was worth more than his pride, and it caused him to miss the warning of her slip into Cajun-speak.

"Well. I always was top of my class and won some awards and international recognition..."

Tommy was indulging in shameless self promotion, but that was the norm when interviewing. Of course, when he thought about it, he wondered why he was promoting himself for the honor of jacking off into a beaker. That and the moral and emotional implications of her birthing a colt with half his genes gave him pause.

Living with the secret that her child was also his and having no say in its raising felt awkward, but he couldn't think of any good reasons to object. Several bucks he knew in college had donated regularly for money and experienced no obvious remorse or regret. At the time, he laughed at them and accused them of prostitution, but wasn't that exactly what he would be doing with Ms. LeRoy? Being honest with himself, he admitted the only reason he was considering giving her his seed was because she was offering to reward him for it.

Her earlier reference to the department head position could not be a coincidence. The two had to be linked, but asking her to clarify exactly what she was prepared to do in return for his 'gift' was too ballsy a move for him. Fortunately, she wanted his balls, or at least what was inside them, badly enough that she circled back to the bait, saving him the embarrassment.

"Indeed," she agreed with apparent sincerity. "Your academic credentials are impressive, and you have done excellent work since joining TexoGen. That makes you a strong candidate for moving up the management ladder, but there are other applicants with equivalent qualifications. Ask yourself what else can you do to distinguish yourself further and rise above the competition. I can think of something, and so, I am sure can you."

"She can't make it much more plain than that," he thought.

"Why you?" she asked, then answered her own question. "Your genetic profile shows the least risky genes of all of the suitable candidates and the highest likelihood of giving me a healthy, high performing offspring."

Once again his facial expression and body language betrayed him to her superior people reading skills.

"Don't seem so shocked. Genetics is our business, so of course, I have access to that information. You agreed to screening as part of your employment contract. True, that was nominally for detection of the use of illicit drugs, but an organic sample can be used for many purposes. Just be a good boy and remember to forget that as we agreed, okay?"

"Already forgotten," he hastened to add fully aware of the negative publicity shitstorm that a revelation like snooping through employee's genes would produce in the press.

"Excellent. So, Tommy, what is your answer? Are you prepared to do this for me? I'm afraid I can't give you time to think about it. I need your answer now. Again, I won't hold it against you if you say no, but then I also can't intervene in your favor regarding promotions either."

Tommy chewed at his lower lip. The risks of saying yes were low, and the payout high. He could think of no reason to turn her down. If he was going to be a whore, at least he was about to be an extremely well paid whore.

"Sure. I mean...yes, ma'am. I agree."

Her smile was genuine and her relief palpable. She leaned further back in her chair and threw her feet onto the desk. Previously hidden from view, Tommy was now able to observe that she was wearing a mini skirt, a shockingly short mini skirt. She demurely crossed her ankles, but Tommy, nevertheless, was granted a quick flash of shiny, black leather panties that matched her inappropriate, thigh high boots. Polished to a brilliant shine, the pair of four-inch long stiletto heels of her outrageous footwear thrust towards him like an assassin's daggers.

"Fantastic, Tommy. I am so excited and grateful. My husband shall be equally thrilled by what comes next. This is going to be a life changing experience for all of us."

"Is she including me or her husband in that us?" Tommy wondered unable to fathom why she was dressed so improperly for the office.

"I want to get started right away, of course," she added driving his thoughts back to what he thought were the practical aspects of her deal.

"Ah. So you have an appointment set up already? Is this at a nearby clinic, because..."

Harsh and mocking, like a scolding from a flock of crows, her laugh made Tommy cringe and fall silent wondering what he had missed this time.

"Pardon my amusement, but you are so delightful to mislead. When I said right away, I didn't mean another day or even later today. I meant carrémentix."

Uncrossing her legs, she deliberately revealed her erotic underwear for his examination. A silver zipper bisected the skimpy garment from the front waistband down across her pubis before disappearing into the uncharted territory of her taint. Thoughts of tugging at that shiny tab to expose her hidden delights involuntarily filled his head. Embarrassed by his own lascivious stare, he looked away fixing his gaze upon what he thought was the bathroom door.

"You want me to fill a jar? Now? Like in the washroom?"

"Mon Dieux!" she exclaimed, dismay evident in her tone.

"Are you really that dense?" she asked removing her boots from the desk and standing.

Like a judge's gavel, her heels cracked against the marble floor, but unlike a frumpy old lawyer in black robes, she sauntered around the desk, her hips swaying magically with the poise of a fashion model. Tommy stared openly, unable to summon any further will to avert his eyes.

Her legs were arresting in their leather cocoons. Riding halfway up her thighs, their risers stopped several inches shy of the hem of her provocatively short skirt. The mildest breeze or slightest deviation of her torso from verticality promised to raise the hem, re-exposing her exciting intimate wear. The blouse and blazer combination was her sole concession to appropriate business attire, but when combined with the rest of her costume, it degenerated to just another component of a kinky deception. Whether or not she intended to give the impression of a naughty teenager from a private girl's school, Tommy found it impossible to purge that image from his mind. Confused, he searched for answers in her eyes, but only adolescent mischief twinkled back.

"I...I...I must be...I guess?" he stammered unsettled by her provocative display of sexuality. He was unused to a mare so brazenly seducing him. "You...your...you have an odd expression."

"It's enviexi."

"What's...what's ah-vee?"

"It's hunger, Tommy. Can't you feel it?"

"No. I had plenty for breakfast..." Her sly gaze and the accompanying slow transit of her tongue across the length of her upper lip convinced him to accept the truth he was trying so desperately to deny. "...but that's not what you mean...is it?"

"Nonxii," she answered shaking her head slowly, sensually.

"Am I missing something?"

"You are missing everything, young man. You aren't going to cum in a jar. I want you to shoot your load right at the target."

Panicked, Tommy tried to stand, but she stopped him by placing a hand upon his chest, pushing him back into the chair, straddling his legs, and sitting on his thighs.

"You made a deal."

"That was..." His mouth was dry and his brain befuddled by conflicting emotions of fear and desire. "...was based on a...a misunderstanding."

"What's the problem, Tommy? You're single, so you're not cheating on anyone. Consider the sex as...as lagniappexiii- an added bonus accompanying your donation."

"But...what about your husband? Won't he be jealous?"

"He knows and approves. We both want the pregnancy to be as natural as possible, including conception."

"Wha...what about the company's anti-fraternization policy?"

She leaned in closer licking his cheek and nuzzling beneath his ear.

"I am the company, and who's to know if neither of us tells, eh cherxiv?"

With every word she spoke, her bayou accent asserted its dominance.

"There's no long term commitment with this. You get one shot to impregnate me, then we go back to living our separate lives. You make no claims on the bébéxv, and we never have sex or any social relationship again. No strings. Nothing to bind us. It's the ultimate one night stand."

The exotic rhythm of her voice promised reckless, carefree sex, ensnaring his imagination and scattering his excuses except for a vague unease with adultery. The concept of screwing a married woman, even if her husband approved, just felt amoral.

"You seem uncertain, and unresponsive," she cooed while brazenly reaching between her thighs and groping his groin. "I'll be generous and give you one more chance to leave. Just push me off and walk away, and we both forget all about this. No hard feelings. No repercussions. I'll even throw in a free taste in advance so you know what you're giving up."

One mesmerizing button at a time, the front of her blouse parted. It was no surprise that the bra cradling her sumptuous breasts matched her panties down to the zipper dividing her cleavage like railroad tracks crossing the pass between two mountains. The twin trail of spots that began at the backs of each side of her jaw, continued downward around her boobs to join together at the hem of her skirt as if they were part of a pirate's map illustrating routes to buried treasure. Immobilized by her seductive beauty and the opulence of her tits threatening to spill out of their leather hammocks, Tommy offered no resistance as her lips engulfed his.

Just as Leslie had predicted, her hands combed through the thick, golden waves of his hair. Unprepared for the incredible reach of her tongue, he almost choked during her deep exploration of his mouth until, like two mating snakes, she intertwined her tongue with his. The luscious shock was enough to provoke feelings of guilt and shame that cooled his ardor, if only slightly.

Intending to push her away, he encountered the soft, silky hair of her taut stomach. Traitors to his will, his hands were converted to her purpose and wandered over the muscular curves of her hips and buttocks and up the narrow flute of her waist on their way to her back where his fingers became entangled in her midnight mane.

Swelling like an inflatable pool toy, Tommy's growing tumescence became the ultimate revolutionary defecting from the prudish ideology of his conscience. Victoria ground her crotch against his growing organ and broke the kiss.

"I feel a change in your thinking. Is that a renewed commitment to honor our deal, cher?"

Tommy's doubts were tossed about and lost amid the maelstrom of arousal assaulting his senses.

"Yes," he answered, his mind joining his body in its bid to enlist in her cause.

Longing for her mouth, his snout opened towards hers, but she pulled back, nimbly pinching and holding the tip of his tongue between her thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, what?" she demanded, her face grown suddenly stern.

"Yeath...uhmmm...ma'am?"

Smiling, Victoria released his tongue and patted his cheek.

"God boy, Tommy. Always remember that I am still your superior. You must show respect and obey me. For this encounter, you are not just my employee. You are my vassal, my servant, and my slave. Now, take your hands off me and place them on the armrests."

"Uh, okay. I get it. This is role-play." Tommy obliged her command. "You want to be dominant. That's cool. I can go with that. I mean you're the boss and you're already on top. Just let me know what you want me to do."

"Oh, I'll do more than just be on top. My taste for control runs deeper than that."

With a smooth, practiced motion, she retrieved from behind her back two pair of metal handcuffs, binding his wrists to the chair arms before he could react.

"Hey!" he protested. "You don't need to do that."

"I'm afraid I do. Society strives for equality of the sexes, but we can't erase the innate physical imbalances between mares and stallions."

Her fingertips traced the cords of his arm muscles as he tested his restraints.

"You males are, on average, stronger. We're both evolutionary biologists. Don't try to deny the facts."

"I wouldn't try to overpower you."

"Perhaps, but I can't risk you denying me what is rightfully mine."

"Rightfully yours?" he wondered.

"Are you familiar with the phrase 'Droit du Seigneurxvi'?"

"Duwaw duh seenyur?" he mimicked after giving up his fruitless struggle. "No. Should I?"

"Perhaps not. It's French for 'Lord's Right', a mythical medieval law that supposedly allowed European Kings and other nobility the right to carnal relationships with the daughters of their vassals."

"Oh. I see."

"To satisfy me, you must submit utterly. It is important that you do, so that I am aroused and ready when you cum. That will increase the odds of conception."

"I guess that makes sense...ma'am," he said adding the respectful title as a tongue-in-cheek afterthought. "I hear and obey...My Queen. How's that?"

Tommy was attempting to keep the situation light and humorous, but Victoria remained stoic.

"A nice start, but we can do better. Let's put a modern spin on this."

Her fingers began unbuttoning his shirt.

"A Cajun queen rules at TexoGen, and all the stallions are hers for stud duty."

Yanking the tails of his shirt out of his pants, she spread the front apart exposing his golden-tan chest.

"I am your Lord, and you are my filly," she declared.

Gentle licking stiffened his nipples. If this was what it meant to be her vassal, Tommy had no complaints until Victoria growled and bit one rigid teat.

"Ah! Ah!" he gasped, surprised by his perverse enjoyment of the sadistic assault. "Those are sensitive," he protested feebly.

"Get used to it."

Leaning forward, she placed her breasts astride his snout.

"Open my bra," she demanded.

Eager to comply, Tommy's hands strained against their forgotten bondage, frustrating his attempts to grope her bountiful bosom. Her musky cocktail of perfume, leather, sweat, and sex permeated the confined space within the soft, furry embrace of her heavenly orbs. Aroused, he was inspired to improvise a solution. Catching the zipper's tab in his teeth, he pulled downward separating the leather halter.

Pink nipples greeted him with cheerful exuberance. Like a foal, he nuzzled and suckled each in turn while she stroked his mane and twisted long strands of his hair into knots.

"Do you like my titties?" she asked after leaning back to deprive him of their velvety smoothness.

"God, yes."

"Then this should be a real treat."

Sliding off his lap, she squatted in front of him and removed his shoes and socks. Pants and briefs followed on their heels before she spread his thighs apart to admire the long, thick tube of pale horseflesh swelling from its protective sheath.

She shuffled forward until the lower half of his cock filled the gap between her breasts. Protruding above the cushioned sanctuary, it's blunt mushroom tip touched her lips and twitched in response to her warm breath and feathery kiss.

Lazy orbits of her tongue gliding around the rim teased forth gasps of pleasure from her helpless victim. A puddle of viscous pre formed around the off-center slit. Opening her mouth she engulfed the head, swallowing several inches. Unseen, but felt by Tommy, her nimble tongue wrapped around the shaft.

Bewildered, Tommy reveled in the tit-fucking despite having anticipated less generous treatment as part of his submissive role. Victoria squeezed her boobs against his shaft rising up and down, bringing him to the brink of ejaculation. At the moment he thought he could bear no more, she enveloped his cock completely letting it slide down her throat until her chin rested on his balls.

Her lack of gag reflex was astonishing. Tommy had always thought it was the low level employees who had to swallow whatever management fed them. The delightful mix-up of roles drove the onset of spasms deep in his loins.

Sensing the pulsing against her throat, Victoria pulled back and gripped the base of his shuddering pole with a vice like grip.

"Not yet. Not yet!" she commanded, slapping his testicles for emphasis.

Stinging pain broke Tommy's euphoric mood.

"That hurts."

Ignoring his protest, she continued to throttle and flagellate.

"Are you giving me orders, slave?"

"Ah," he winced. "Sorry, ma'am. Please?" he begged.

Relenting more because his boner had lost its rigidity and because no jizz had escaped, she loosened her stranglehold on his dick and lightly rubbed his balls as if to assuage her previous abuse.

"That was too close. Didn't I say all of your seed goes in my womb, not my stomach?'"

"Yes, ma'am, you did. I'm sorry."

"Hmm," she mused.

Her left hand supported his cock just below the preputial ring. The top half sagged and folded over itself.

"I can't risk that happening again, especially since I'm barely warmed up."

Releasing his semi-engorged prick to flop between his legs and drape over the lip of the chair's seat, she rose and returned to the far side of her desk. Her curvaceous ass dazzled Tommy with its subtle dance beneath her skimpy skirt accompanied by the side to side sashay of her ebony tail. Craning his neck, Tommy tried to espy what she was retrieving from a drawer, but the desk blocked his view. She returned with the mystery item hidden behind her back.

"Guess what it is," she prompted.

Too many frightening possibilities whirled about in the confusion of Tommy's mind. Shaking his head, he was afraid to give voice to any of them lest he further jinx himself.

Laughing, she revealed a leather harness comprised of a belt and two smaller loops of the same material. Slung between the black bands was an oddly shaped item made of strands of curved stainless steel welded together. Though reminiscent of the swept basket guard of a renaissance rapier, Tommy quickly divined its true function. He had never seen a male chastity belt before, but form follows function, and he could only think of one bird that cage would fit.

"That's not necessary. You just caught me off guard going down on me so vigorously like that. I've got great control. Really."

"Excusez-Moi!_xvii_Recent history says otherwise. One little titty fuck and suck is just the beginning of what I have in store for you. I'm going to take you places you've never been. This device ensures all of your potent sperm stay where they belong until I'm ready for them."

Tommy was helpless to stop her as she slid the leg straps up his thighs and fastened the belt around his waist. Before stuffing his equipment into the barely adequate enclosure, she took a thick elastic band she had on her wrist and placed it above his testicles exacerbating the sensation of confinement and discomfort. The basket had a hinged cover with a lock that clicked shut with a sound not unlike the deadbolt on the door or the handcuffs that held his wrists.

"That will hold you. Does it hurt?" she asked.

"No. Just incredibly uncomfortable."

One blood-red fingernail stroked the bridge of his snout.

"That's the point, slave."

Clambering back onto his lap, she pressed her breasts against his chest and kissed him again with ample application of her tongue. Her tail flicked to and fro across his cage, tickling the contents.

"Does that help?"

"Some I suppose, but I'm not sure I'm okay with this..."

Victoria lifted her tail and glanced over her shoulder to gauge his true mental state and smiled to see folds of his swelling flesh protruding through the metal bars.

"Look how you strain against your prison. Your libido betrays you. Stallions, so macho in public, while in private you desire to be dominated by a mare."

Secretly admitting that truth to himself, Tommy put on his best poker face lest she discover how intoxicating he found the act of releasing all power to a woman during sex and how eagerly he awaited her next command. He wasn't disappointed when she stood once more and announced it was his turn to pleasure her with his mouth.

A brief show of unzipping her panties preceded the sliding of the two halves of the divided garment down her legs. Her blazer, blouse, and bra were tossed aside leaving only her boots as insufficient cover to protect the modesty she clearly lacked.

"On your knees!" she commanded.

Bound as he was at the wrists, minor gymnastics were required to tuck his legs under his body and poke his feet through the openings in the back of the chair. By the time he was done, she was lying on the desk with her legs spread and knees raised.

In his new position, his face was thrust forward; the tip of his snout mere millimeters from the fleshy and fragrant folds of her slit. All of her glories from the thick, dark patch of pubic fur below her belly to the tightly puckered orifice forward of her tail were exposed for his inspection and ministration.

"Swab the deck stem to stern, sailor."

Whether a command, request, or invitation, it made no difference to Tommy. Indulging his appetite in her nether regions was sinfully delicious gluttony.

Beginning at the pink nub nestled at the top of her sex, he nudged, licked, and suckled the sensitive organ eliciting moans, groans, murrs and a bounty of non-verbal pronouncements of her ecstasy. Enthralled by her exhortations of pleasure, he moved on to the main course sliding his tongue through her wet, deep fissure. Victoria clutched his hair to pull him close while grinding her clit against his nose. His face became a battering ram against her heavenly gates.

A series of orgasms wracked Victoria's body with pleasant tremors, but the ability to share the experience, except through his tongue, eluded Tommy. Every time his cock tried to expand, the unyielding steel kept it folded in cramped discomfort causing it to deflate and re-inflate in a frustrating sequence of never ending full erections denied.

He was forced to persist in servicing her, nevertheless, by her skillful tugging of the clumps of his hair to control his application of pressure to whatever area she desired. Convinced his queen would bestow mercy by releasing him in remuneration for diligent service, he did his best to cooperate.

Only when she relaxed her hold upon his head, did he abandon the main course to refresh his lungs with gulps of air free from the smothering heat and musk of her loins. Unsated, Victoria soon yanked on his reigns forcing him lower and towards dessert. He nibbled the length of her taint, a particularly ticklish region for her, eliciting giggles before he finished with a thorough rimming of her anus.

"That was well done," she cooed, satisfied with his performance. "Is your tongue all tired and sore?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I'd say its completely worn out, and so are my neck and shoulders. I need to sit up again..."

Tommy attempted to extricate his legs from beneath his body, but Victoria swung her leather jacketed legs over his head making him pause to duck. Standing to his side, she placed her strong hands upon his shoulders to hold him still.

"No. Don't do that. This is my fault, and I should fix it. Put your head down on the desk instead."

She folded her skirt to make a small pillow and pressed the side of his face gently, but insistently onto it before massaging the knots out of his muscles. So expert and soothing was her technique, he went limp and soporific under her care forgetting how absurd he looked naked, kneeling on a chair with his wrists chained to its arms. Lulled into a restful torpor, he was unprepared to defend against her second stealth application of restraint.

The size of the two slots in the back of the chair were adjustable. Like stocks used in olden times to secure the legs of prisoners and slaves for punishment, she lowered the specially crafted backrest down until it fit snugly against his ankles.

"More restraints?" he wondered aloud with a twinge of panic hovering at the edge of his voice. Tommy was beginning to suspect she had planned this encounter in advance.

"I like you in this position and want you to stay just as you are."

She ran one hand over the curves of his butt.

"It's perfect for what comes next."

"Which is...?" he asked nervously.

Having transitioned from partially helpless to totally helpless, his fear factor was rising exponentially.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Her answer did nothing to assuage his growing concern.

"How about freeing my arms? I can do a lot more with my hands free."

"I bet you can. Maybe later. Right now, they'll just get in the way and be as useless as your tired mouth and tongue."

A ball gag appeared in her hand as if by magic, eliminating all doubt that every nuance of this tryst was choreographed.

"Okay. Now that's totally unnecessary," he protested.

"So you say, but conversation is overrated."

Victoria moved to insert the gag, but Tommy ducked his head aside.

"Uh...before you do that, how about a safe word. Yeah. We need a safe word, right?"

Her laugh was a confounding blend of mockery, lust, and amusement.

"Sure, Tommy. Everyone should have a safe word. Yours is 'Afghanistan-bananastan.' Can you remember that?"

Not waiting for his answer, she stuffed the plastic ball in his gaping mouth and cinched the straps around his neck and the back of his head.

"Afthamistham-funanatham," he parroted mumbling it repeatedly around his plastic obstruction, clinging to the silly word like a drowning man to a life ring.

"What's that? I can't seem to understand you. Men get so flustered around a woman sometimes that they can hardly speak."

She moved beyond his limited range of sight, giggling like a school girl.

"Don't let it worry you. You have something more important to think about; a very special treat to pleasure both of us."

Tommy strained to watch as she lifted a cushion on a nearby couch. Her beautiful behind blocked what little he could see, which made no difference since she made no pretense of hiding the three-foot long sausage shaped package bent in the middle at a thirty degree angle, bringing it to him and holding it in front of his snout for his inspection.

"The shape's a giveaway, but go ahead and guess what's in here anyway."

His eyes opened wide in alarm. The large, carefully wrapped, white cotton cloth patterned with pink hearts and romping unicorns did little to conceal that only one sex related tool possessed that shape.

"Nmmph. Nmmph," he protested to no avail.

"Good guess."

The cutesy wrapping was quickly tossed aside confirming his fear. Simple in construction, both ends of the black, rubber dildo terminated in the familiar blunt glans of a stallion, a feral stallion that is. Otherwise, it would not have been quite so thick and long.

"We each get an end. Isn't that exiting?"

Tommy didn't think exciting was an adequate descriptor of how it would feel to have any portion of the monstrous toy sliding into his backside. Pressing his butt firmly against the back of the chair, he expressed his refusal the only way he could.

"Don't be like that, Tommy," she pouted. "Think how it is for us mares to take all this inside every time. Well...maybe not quite this girth other than in exceptional cases, but it's only fair that you men have a turn to experience the same thing."

Tommy kept his rear firmly upon the chair's padded back. Victoria shook her head.

"Stallions. So squeamish. Hmmm. It's a good thing I had this made to be removable."

To Tommy's horror, the chair's upright popped off when she thumbed two hidden latches, but the cross board trapping his ankles remained. Unexpectedly exposed, he had nothing but his brush-like tail to cover his anterior portal.

Laying one end of the massive tube of rubber over his back, Victoria tormented him with its length adjusting it until the middle hovered just above his anus.

"This aught to hit your rib cage. Imagine how stuffed you'll be. It's a great feeling once you get used to it. I had plenty of practice out in the_ciprière xviii_with my _beau-frère xix_and two horny cousins."

Squirming and twisting as hard as he could accomplished little more than raising and lowing his backside. The sphere in his mouth was equally effective at obscuring his protests and pathetic attempts to invoke the safe word.

"You're a little frightened. I get that. This is pretty big, and you're new to this. Tell you what. I'll go first. You can watch."

Once more, she sat on the desk in front of him with her legs spread wide positioning one end of her toy against her vagina. After rubbing it up and down without inserting it, she held the end up for his inspection. Sticky tendrils of her vaginal juices hung from it's tip.

"I'm really getting hot and bothered, stud. I don't even need lube for this bad boy."

Tommy forgot his apprehension temporarily, gaping openly as each thick inch vanished inside until she stopped two finger's width short of halfway and placed her hand over the slight bulge under her belly button.

"Mon Dieu. Filled every nook and cranny that did."

Even with her athletic physique, standing again required several attempts.

"Kind of hard to walk," she said as she waddled around behind Tommy holding the exposed end of the heavy dildo in both hands.

"Who's the stallion and who's the mare now?"

Alerted to her intent, Tommy struggled against his restraints until he was exhausted.

"Excited?" she laughed and began fingering the rim of his clenched tail hole.

"Tighter than a miser's purse," she frowned. "Gonna need lots of lube."

Unable to twist his neck far enough to see, Tommy's tall ears swiveled backward towards the squelching sound as she emptied a small tube of lubricant onto her palm. Even after stroking the pseudo-penis to cover it completely, her hand retained a generous dollop of goo.

Collecting the excess gel on her index finger, she worked to loosen his reluctant sphincter muscles. Tommy gasped and huffed in response at the initial insertion, but once she was in, there was no pain, just a bizarre new sensation against which he instinctively rebelled. Incrementally increasing the number of her fingers, the opening widened after each reflexive clenching subsided. When all four fingers were buried to the third knuckle, she proclaimed him ready.

"Your turn," she announced, and absent further preamble, poked the ebony glans through his yawning back door.

"Afthamistham-funanatham," he whimpered. Painful stretching accompanied the intrusion of the feral sized dong.

"There, there,pauve ti betexx. Losing your anal virginity hurts a bit, but is well worth it in the end."

Victoria laughed at her terrible pun, and gripped his thighs. Tommy leaned as far forward as his restraints would allow and worked to expel the invader from his rectum. The effort was hopeless. Buried deep inside her vagina, she possessed ample leverage to breach his defenses.

"Don't worry. Unlike the bastards that broke me in, I'll go slow and easy."

Tenderly, but inexorably, Victoria delved deeper, spreading his buttocks wider. Tears dribbled from Tommy's eyes and saliva oozed past his gag. An ache formed around his tortured anus, and the solid mass filling his bowels mimicked terminal constipation, and yet a previously untapped sliver of his psyche exulted in the novel experience of being the mare. To his amazement, his limp cock swelled to the limits of its confinement. Confused by the discordant blend of discomfort and erotic stimulation, he unconsciously cooperated with her thrusts and forgot himself as she sang a soothing lullaby from her childhood.

"Fais dodo, mo l'aime mo ti chère,

Fais dodo, dodo sans douleur.

Fais dodo, mo l'aime mo ti chère,

Fais dodo, dodo sans douleur.

"Maw-Maw gain gateaux,

Paw-Paw gain bonbons

Yé donne sa à toi,

si bébé dodo.

"Fais dodo, la lune dans le ciel-la

Fais dodo, li brille pour toi.

Fais dodo, la lune dans le ciel-la.

Faid dodo, dodo jist pour moi. __xxi"

The tune was as foreign as the words to him, but it's magic served to distract. Not until her hands gripped his shoulders and her thighs made contact with his buttocks did he realized how deep she had gone. Panicking, he began to hyperventilate and push back.

"Non non, bébé," she whispered in his ear while locking her ankles against the chair legs for added stability.

"Relax, little virgin. Easy. Easy."

After executing his breathing exercise, Tommy was able to accept her advice, finding peace of mind and relaxation for his spasming sphincter. What had initially seemed like the worst physical violation of his life was less awful than he had imagined. In fact, the concept of being submissive and mounted was a pleasure worth exploring, and their bodies swayed back and forth in synch alternating which end of the dildo pressed hard against whose innermost depths.

Victoria basked in the warm suffusion of rolling orgasms, but Tommy's cock was still trapped, unable to inflate enough to reach his climax. By the time his queen had satisfied herself, and slowly withdrew, his need was so intense, he begged through his gag.

"Ffeath. Ffeath hlet me hum. Fleath."

Victoria wiped her sweaty brow. Circling the hyperbolic vortex of his anus with a cherry red fingernail, she admired her handiwork. She was pleased with her success at breaking this stallion, but having enjoyed numerous variations of the same theme since she was old enough to be of interest to boys, she was satisfied with moving on to the morning's denouement. Grimacing, she squatted and squeezed. With a guttural burp, the dildo slid from between her thighs, smacking against the floor.

"I'm ready for the finale, and you are asking respectfully."

She sauntered back into his field of view to see the pitiful pleading in his eyes.

"Before I release you, tell me honestly. Did you enjoy that?"

Tommy hesitated. A self esteem saving lie automatically took shape in his mind, but he discarded it for the truth and nodded, the shame obvious on his face. Victoria smiled, but not out of the triumph of crushing another's spirit. Rather, the sharing of a guilty pleasure pleased her.

"Me too, cher. Nothing to be ashamed about enjoying forbidden passion. It's our secret to keep. Remember our agreement?"

Tommy nodded again.

"I am bound by it just as much as you, and you have been such a good boy so far. I am going to free you of all restraints except for the most important one...in here."

Victoria's right index finger pressed against the middle of his forehead.

"You are under my voodoo spell - serment magiquexxii."

A small key taped to the side of the chair unlocked the cuffs. Tommy rubbed his chafed wrists while Victoria removed the gag and raised the stocks trapping his ankles

"I own your mind_,_ body, and soul. You can't cum unless I allow it," she continued as she helped him rise to his feet.

"T __u t'en sors?_ xxiii_"

Tommy had no understanding of French, but nodded mutely, intuiting she was asking after his welfare, and he was supremely grateful that she was also unlocking and removing the chastity belt, though his cock had fully retracted into its sheath. Neither the sight of her naked body or dwelling upon the inevitable sex to follow caused the slightest stirring. Only her command could rouse him now, so he awaited upon her whim.

"Sit on the desk," she ordered, and he did.

She unzipped the back of each boot and removed them before joining him kneeling astride his thighs. Her sex pressed against his, radiating its heat and moistness. Still, Tommy had no reaction even as she consumed his mouth with hers again.

"You are so obedient," she purred. "You've earned the privilege to enter me."

Poking her finger into the loose opening of his sheath, she tickled the flaccid tip of his penis.

"You may rise to the occasion now."

His response was an instantaneous swelling that she diverted to growing inside her until the tip of his cock bumped against the spongy resistance at the distal end of her welcoming tunnel.

"Oh yes," she murred grinding down.

Tommy experienced exquisite pleasure accompanying the violent contact of her inner walls against his over sensitized cock, but minutes passed without any hint he might ever progress to the penultimate moment he desperately desired. His frustration increased as he struggled against the mental block lingering from his incarceration. The completeness with which she had ensnared his libido convinced Tommy she was a witch.

"What's wrong, Tommy. Is it all hard but too traumatized to ejaculate?"

"Yeah. It's just like that."

"Do your balls feel like they are so full they are about to burst?"

"Yes," he answered resignedly.

Victoria teetered as the edge of her final climax. Wishing Tommy to join her, she slid her hands along the lunar curves of her buttocks to lightly grip his bulging testicles and tenderly rubbed them.

"Fill me. Tommy!"

Her command shattered the subconscious shackles. Primitive drives honed by millions of years of evolutionary compulsion asserted control. Gripping the taught cords of Victoria's waist, Tommy held her down. Teeth clenched, eyes shut, brows furrowed, and sweat oozing from every pore, nerves and synapses hovered trapped within a sublime, euphoric stasis upon the brink of an infinite orgasmic abyss, holding...holding...holding, subsumed by an exaggerated expectation before...sweet explosion. A flood surged in Victoria's womb.

A primal scream of exaltation and triumph rose in their throats, but the risk of sound carrying through the thick brass doors to Diana's ears compelled them to smother their voices upon each other's lips. They shared the throbbing ecstasy beneath her delicate touch upon his testicles, the rush along his cock, and the pulsing of fluid from its tip.

"Oh. I can feel it," moaned Victoria, "Don't pull out. I want it all."

Tommy rode his orgasm like and endless storm at sea. In its aftermath, awash upon the beach of her desk, he lay panting and exhausted; her weight upon him a comforting reminder he was not a lonely castaway.

"Good boy, Tommy," she purred. "You exceeded all expectations."

As if endowed with an infinite reserve of energy and strength, no trace of weariness tinged her voice, and the bayou accent had vanished, replaced by her professional facade. Groggy, he dimly comprehended her praise. His parched mouth experienced difficulty forming words.

"Fuck," he finally managed to exclaim. "I think I might have blacked out there for a moment. That was the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced."

"You're welcome, Tommy. I enjoyed guiding you towards fulfilling your half of the bargain. I will uphold mine."

Misinterpreting her business-like manner, he began to rise on his elbows.

"I guess I should dress and go, then," he said.

"No. No," she protested. "Don't move yet. Your seed will spill out."

Jizz was already beginning to escape. Tommy could feel the sticky warmth oozing over his balls.

"I forgot something," she said chagrined. "I need your help to get it. Let's scooch together across the desk."

It was an awkward endeavor, but by cooperating, they managed to remain joined while bouncing across the few feet of desk separating them from the far edge. A trail of semen remained in their wake. Victoria fumbled one last time in her drawer of mysterious sex toys. The item she handed Tommy reminded him of a dog's penis including the prominent knob at the base.

"I'm pulling off. You put that in as fast as you can once I am on my back, okay?"

"Uh...okay," he replied dubiously.

Planting her feet, she straightened her legs, pushing her torso upward. They both gasped from the slick tug just before Tommy's cock popped free to slap wetly upon his stomach. Droplets of cum splattered the desk as Victoria rolled onto her back holding her hips in the air with her legs spread wide.

"Quickly! Do it!"

Tommy scrambled to his knees and slammed the doggy dildo home with enough impetus to force the bulbous end inside, making Victoria squawk like a wounded chicken.

"I guess I asked for that," she admitted.

Holding the flat end of the plug, she lowered her hips and swiveled on her butt to stand again. She found a more sensible pair of panties and produced two towels. One she tossed to Tommy. The other she used to wipe the sweat and other fluids from her pale coat.

Had they been two intimate lovers experiencing the glorious aftermath of sex, a natural conclusion would have involved cuddling and sharing a peaceful interlude on a nearby couch, but theirs was a financial arrangement, not a coming together of hearts. Tommy had got the right of it earlier. He was a whore and she was his trick.

"Clean yourself as best you can and get dressed," she ordered. "I will see that you get your reward."

"Ouch! That was blunt." thought, Tommy. "Oh. That's it then?" was what he said as he picked up his clothes and struggled to cover himself.

Victoria sighed.

"Don't try to make this anything more than it was, Tommy. It will never be repeated or discussed. It only happened in your dreams. Am I correct?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, yes ma'am."

Tommy finished dressing, but he looked like he had just run a marathon. Shaking her head, Victoria adjusted his shirt collar and combed out his mane with her long fingers until she was satisfied it wasn't obvious he just spent the last thirty minutes getting fucked.

"There. You'll pass a quick inspection. Go straight home. Don't talk to anyone on your way out. Not even Dianna. Rest and come back fresh tomorrow. I sent your supervisor a message saying that you are going to meet with a client for me and will be gone the rest of the day."

Obligated to obey more by the enchantment of her glamour than the nature of his employment, he departed as instructed.

"Puerxxiv! I need a shower," Victoria exclaimed after Tommy was gone, but rather than enter her private washroom, she moved to the opposite side of her suite and opened the door to a large walk-in closet.

In addition to clothes racks, dressers, a vanity, and a washbasin, a naked, chestnut brown buck was tied with his arms behind his back to a simple wooden chair facing a large monitor hung on one bare wall. The view on the screen was centered upon where Tommy had endured Victoria's less than tender affections. Gagged and sporting a lingering erection, an abundance of cum dripped from the screen.

Still wearing nothing more than her panties, Victoria approached and ran the fingers of one hand teasingly up and down his quivering shaft. Her second victim's eyes rolled back, and more jizz dribbled forth to puddle on the floor. Catching a palm full of his milky serum, she playfully smeared it on the end of his snout, his forehead, and into his brown mane.

"Did my little voyeur enjoy the show?" she asked while removing his gag.

Panting and gasping for air, he needed a few seconds to compose himself before answering.

"God, my love! Watching you fuck other bucks is the greatest thrill I know. You really put Tommy through the gauntlet. I came without even being able to touch myself. One of your best performances ever!"

"Anything for my darling husband. Je t'aimexxv."

"May I have sloppy seconds?"

"You're insatiable," she said accusingly while licking his cum from the palm of her hand, "and I'm a busy woman...but sure. Why not?"

Victoria began reaching to untie the knotted cords behind his back, but he stopped her, begging to be fucked just as he was. The request was expected by Victoria knowing her husband the way she did. Short on time, she skipped any further teasing, and simply removed her underwear and then the canine shaped plug with a grimace as it stretched her wide once more.

Tommy's copious seed began oozing forth from her parted lips. She let it drizzle down the length of her husband's cock before lowering her herself upon it.

"Oh yeah. Tommy really filled you up didn't he? Ha! Ha! You milked him dry."

Victoria patted her husband's balls in turn.

"Based on the mess on the screen, I think you drained yourself. Did you save any for me?"

"Maybe a bit. I'm sure you can find some hidden reserve, but it really doesn't matter if I dry cum does it? The doctor confirmed you're already carrying my little colt."

"And I'm proud to be its_mère_xxvi," she said patting her belly as much to connect with the embryo inside as to feel the blunt end of her husband's prick ramming her cervix each time she came down on him.

"Do you think he'll figure it out when our baby's a month too early for it to be his?"

"I'm betting he won't. He's a brilliant scientist but really clueless about a lot of things. And so what if he does?" she laughs. "If he has second thoughts and decides to squeal about it, he'll look like a fool. The paternity test will prove it's yours. I never snooped around in his genes. I fed him so many lies, he won't ever be able to discover the truth."

"He is getting the promotion, though, right? That ought to keep him quiet and make it all worth while."

"That's the funniest part of all. The position was already his. We made that decision yesterday. He endured performing for you for nothing."

Delighting in her glorious deception, her mate cummed one last time with surprising violence and gusto.

"You are beautiful but also the meanest, most ruthless bitch I ever met," he panted when sated. "Don't ever change. Those are your best qualities."

[End of Story]

i Curse.

ii Balls, testicles.

iii It's a bargain, it's a steal.

iv God damned.

v The shit is going to hit the fan.

vi That's nonsense

vii That's all.

viii Yes.

ix Immediately.

x My God.

xi Desire; want.

xii No.

xiii Something extra given at no cost.

xiv Dear; a term of affection.

xv Baby.

xvi Lord's right.

xvii Excuse me.

xviii Cypress swamp.

xix Step-brother.

xx Poor little thing.

xxi Go to sleep, I love my dear one.

Go to sleep, sleep without grief.

Go to sleep, I love my little dear one.

Go to sleep, sleep without grief.

Mama has some cake

Papa has candy.

They give that to you

If baby goes to sleep.

Go to sleep. The moon's in the sky there.

Go to sleep, it shines for you.

Go to sleep, the moon's in the sky there.

Go to sleep, it shines for you.

xxii Magical oath.

xxiii Doing okay there?

xxiv To stink; to smell bad.

xxv I love you.

xxvi Mother.