Sow and ReapInterlude 1 Ryou s Tale
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I am a simple girl. I come from a simple family in a simple town and all I ever wanted were simple things. A home. A husband. A child to raise. Maybe a dog. I was smart in school so I took accelerated classes and went to secretarial college when I was 16. Simple. I didn't want a fancy career; I wanted a good job while I looked for a man I could be a good wife to. I knew girls who wanted to be executives, some were friends of mine; I wished them well. Job, home, husband. Simple.
I graduated near the top of my class and because of that, I got a job immediately — a good a one at KaibaCorp. Actually, it was one of several offers I was given and my counselor told me not to take it. The secretarial pool, she said, was no place for my skills to shine. I could make more money as the Executive Assistant. I'd have more prestige as the Embassy Liaison. Secretarial Pool, she said, is for baby makers. So I took it.
For the first year, it was wonderful. I got an apartment near the office and worked every day from morning to night. I typed letters, proposals and bids. I filed contracts and briefs. I received my internal security clearance and was allowed to fill in sometimes when a junior executive assistant was out. I was even beginning to date a very nice young man in Marketing.
And then I was called to the Personnel Manager's office.
"Do you enjoy working for KaibaCorp?" She asked me.
"Yes, ma'am. Very much so." I didn't know what I had done wrong. I didn't know what I could have done wrong.
"How old are you?"
"19, ma'am."
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No, ma'am."
Her eyes narrowed at me. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
I blushed. "No, ma'am."
"So you don't mind working late? Even if it were very often?"
"Oh!" I was very relieved by the question. "No, ma'am. I live alone and I can come in very early or stay late."
"What about weekends?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She looked at the papers on her desk and considered me for a moment. Then she sighed, "Kanan-san was terminated this morning. Kaiba-san needs a replacement right away."
I couldn't even gasp. Kaiba-san? THE Kaiba-san? Even for a day — even for an hour — if anyone on the 35th floor needed a temporary assistant, one of my managers was sent to fill the desk. To send me...
"Yes, I know this is very sudden. Will you do it?"
"Me? But — I — I'm not — me?"
"You meet the standards Kaiba-san has set for his staff and it will only be until we hire a new Senior Secretary for him. A month or so at most." She must have seen the look of shocked horror frozen on my face. "I would not have chosen you if there were anyone else on staff that would fit the qualifications. It is your responsibility to be loyal to the company. Will you do it?"
I nodded. Of course I would do it. I worked for KaibaCorp and I would do whatever my job asked of me. I just never expected to be asked to do this.
"Very well. Go now, directly to the 35th floor. Give me your ID badge." I gave it to her and she handed me a new one. "This will allow you access to the suites you'll need." As I left her office, the last thing she said before the door closed was, "Good luck, Mazaki."
Kaiba Seto was something of a legend in the office. Not for the games or the tech or the things he was known for worldwide. We knew all of that, of course, but it was less relevant to the day-to-day office. He was known for his quirks. For firing people because his coffee was cold or his newspapers were old. He was very demanding in odd ways. It was rumored that one assistant had never filed a single sheet of paper for two years but was fired because he forgot to schedule Kaiba-san's routine hair appointment. I hadn't met him in person, of course, but from what I'd gathered from those that had, it wasn't that he was cruel. It was that he was focused on what he was doing and the slightest thing that disturbed his focus infuriated him. In that, he was very simple. I can do simple, I told myself.
And once I learned what he wanted and when, he was simple. He wanted his coffee, hot, when he stepped through the door. When he opened his office door, he wanted to know everything that had happened while it was closed. He wanted a hair cut every two weeks, at two pm, on Wednesday, wherever he was — even in the car. He was even open to my opinions on occasion. He wanted an honest opinion about his appearance. If he called me into his office and asked which product I used, he expected to find it in my home. His schedule was insanely busy and we traveled a lot. But it was all simple.
And then he became complicated. He wanted freedom. He wanted change. He fell in love and after months of not having a minute for my own life, he introduced me to Honda Hiroto. A simple man who wanted a simple life. A wife who cooks, a son who listens and a job that kept them comfortable. Not rich, even. Just happy. He was perfect.
But, of course, it all ended when Kaiba-sama returned. I had tried to keep Kaiba-san informed and tried to convince him that the stock price fall was not a simple flux. I'd been watching the market for him long enough to recognize a problem when I saw one. But he was too lost in infatuation to notice or care. That had happened before but usually he tired of them in a day or so. A week was the longest. A month was unheard of. And Kaiba-sama was furious.
Father and son were nothing alike in the Kaiba family. Where Kaiba-san was tightly focused, Kaiba-sama was all-seeing. He was unpredictable and unlike his son, often cruel. When he came to Kaiba-san's office I often heard him yelling. I frequently heard the slapping. Occasionally the bones breaking. I had more than once assisted in covering up Kaiba-san's bruises or deeper injuries. Treatment he didn't deserve.
Simple, I thought as I rode the elevator to what was now my office on the 35th floor. Why can't my life go back to simple?
Seto was disgraced and no longer considered part of the family. I had been moved to his job along with Bakura and Kaiba Noah. We three knew the KaibaGames market and could run the company for a while without Kaiba-san. We were barred from any contact with him.
In addition, Kaiba-sama had taken particular interest in me. He told me that with so few women in the Kaiba upper echelon, he wanted to work with me through the transition. He has since spent many hours with me. Helping me; truly. He is an extremely knowledgeable man, powerful and even innovative. But not simple.
It was Christmas Eve and I was on my way into the office to make a secret phone call on a secret phone. Not simple. But I had to call him. I had to speak to Hiroto.
A friend of mine gave me a pre-paid phone for Christmas. It was kind of her to give me just what was on my wish list. Another friend was given one just like it. I had 30 minutes — 30 precious minutes that Ryou was covering for me. My assistant — I still had trouble believing that I had an assistant — would be arriving at 6pm on the dot to help me change clothes and get me out the door on time.
I got to my office and closed the door behind me. The building was empty apart from security because it was Christmas. Only crazy people come to the office on Christmas. Crazy people with complicated lives. Simple people are at home with friends and family, eating duck and dueling with their kids.
"Hello?" I recognized Ishtarru's voice as soon as she picked up.
"Isis? Is he there?"
She hesitated. "I have to tell you something."
"What?" Her voice was strained and it scared me. "Is he ok?" but my real fear was, is he with someone else.
"He's fine. It's not him; it's Kaiba-san. He's been sick."
Seto had been sick before, like everyone. He usually took a few doses of some high-powered medication and continued about his day. In my time with him, he refused to take a day off. "Sick, how sick?"
"He was in the hospital for three weeks."
I sat down heavily. "Is he ok? Why didn't you tell me? Oh my God! What's wrong with him? Tell me where he is — I'm coming now."
"Anzu, calm down! He's fine now. I couldn't tell you, you know that. I told Kaiba-sama weeks ago. If I had told you, you would have done what you wanted to just now and he would have known that you and I are talking."
"You're right." I sniffed back a tear. You're right, I know. I'm sorry. I just — so much depends on him."
"I know."
"Is that where Bakura was, when he slipped out of here that weekend?"
"I don't know but Otogi didn't answer his e-mails until Monday night so I doubt it. He said he'd been out getting his battery recharged when he finally replied to me."
"God, I wish I could just ask him."
"I know."
"Why is it all so complicated?"
"Because it is."
"That doesn't help."
"I know."
She gave me a minute to pull myself together. "Ok. I want to talk to him. Where can I reach him?"
"He's here, at the party."
"Oh so he really is ok?"
"He was released this morning. That's where Honda was all day."
"Of course! He'd never leave Seto alone like that. Not like me."
"You are helping him in the ways you can."
"I know." I found myself crying again. "I know."
"Wait a moment. I think I hear him."
"Where is he?"
"The little boy's room." She chuckled.
"Oh." I had to laugh too. "Make sure he washes his hands before he takes the phone."
"Eww! Gross!"
We snickered about boys and bathrooms for a few seconds until I heard her hand the phone over. As soon as I heard his voice I knew his illness had been serious. Gone was the deep baritone that cut through any crowd. He sounded frail. But up-beat. Thinking still, planning still. Even comforting me until I reached for my desk drawer and broke the tip off one of my freshly manicured nails. I got off the phone quickly then — my 30 minutes was almost done anyway — and cursed for a moment the way my father used to when his baseball team lost.
Then I took a breath to clear my thoughts — a helpful suggestion from Kaiba-sama — and called my assistant. She was probably already in the building, but I called her anyway.
"Katya, where can I get a manicure at 7pm on Christmas Eve?"
"In Domino?" she laughed. "Please tell me that's a joke."
"And I need my makeup redone."
"I should have never let you go back to the office." She whined. "Give me a minute. I may know someone."
"I still have to dress. Did you bring the shoes?"
"Yes, Anzu, I have them. I'll be up shortly."
Katya and I had become relatively close very quickly. We even lived together now. It was the only way for me to remain even close to organized. I could run Kaiba-san's life in my sleep. My own, however, was a train wreck.
And getting even more complicated by the hour.
Across the room was the brand new dress I would be wearing to the office Christmas dinner. I hadn't seen it yet. It was a gift from Kaiba-sama. He had provided me with a swatch of the fabric so that I could match my shoes and other accessories to it. It wasn't the first gift he'd bought me, or our first dinner together. But it was the first gift so intimate.
At first, I believed that his help was to somehow trick me into betraying Seto. But I discovered it wasn't as simple as that. Gozaburo was a harsh man, but I found he loved his sons in his own way. The cruelties he did were often because the world was cruel to him. He wanted them to succeed over even the impossible. But I found, over the months, that he was capable of kindness and that his anger could be turned aside. At his heart, Seto was a very simple man. Gozaburo was very, very complicated.
"OK!" The door nearly burst as Katya arrived with several bags. "My cousin Mishiko. She's a stylist; just graduated. She'll met us on the way and fix everything in the car." She dropped all the packages. "So how does it look?"
"I haven't opened it yet."
"Anzu! You have less than an hour to get there!"
We opened the bag and both fell silent. We had known it was made of jade green silk but neither of us expected the garment we found. It blended traditional lines with modern shape and created a dress that was elegant. Brilliant. Complex.
"Oh my God! Where did he find this?" Katya checked for a label. "Hand stitching! Oh my God I'll bet it's a one off!"
"He wouldn't." I shook my head. "It's an office dinner, for God's sake!"
"We'd better get you in it."
My jewelry was wholly inadequate for the divine neckline, but it was the best I had. Thankfully, the new shoes were perfect. We hurried down to the waiting car — an actual limo tonight — and a roughly a mile away, picked up Mishiko. She fixed my nail and my makeup and redid my hair to better suit the dress. I looked as if I knew what I was doing by the time I stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet of the Kaiba mansion's main entrance.
I heard a low whistle behind me and turned to see Bakura Ryou looking as scrumptious as ever in a black tux with a red silk shirt and tie. His cufflinks and tie pin were green wreaths. I don't want a complicated man to marry, but I'd take him for a night anytime he offered. Not that he ever had, but a girl could always hope.
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by Millie Dynamite Jaden and I meet a few weeks after he transferred to the Naval base just outside of town. I sat on a bar stool sipping my Pappy Van Winkle when this tall African-American man in full dress uniform sat next to me. He whore captain’s bars. He possessed an air of authority. I nodded to him when perched on the next stool. He returned my nod with his own acknowledgment, in a deep voice he said, “Yo.” He spoke without looking at me. “I’ll have bourbon, make it a shot of Evan...
On Sunday night James took Vicki to dinner at a restaurant in Corning. It was nice to relax in the open, unconcerned about being observed. They spoke a little about James' worries over Reverend Chandler, but not much. Anything said would have been preaching to the choir. They did make some preliminary plans for a weekend trip into the Wine Country at one of the Bed and Breakfast Inns that dot that area of the State. There were many to choose from between Seneca and Cayuga Lakes. School...
This is a story about seduction and transformation that’s written about a real-life sissy named Brandon Hippel, Brandon’s a cute little limp-wristed sissy-faggot from Abington Pennsylvania that loves to be humiliated and exposed online. She loves feminization, crossdressing, being exposed online, humiliation, anal play, degradation, being captioned, taking pictures, and talking to new people, so feel free to contact her through these various social media; Her kik is; HumiliationSlut2Her email...
Armand Wilson sat in his home office/study sighing. From the office, things had looked pretty good; business was on track, and Sharon appeared to be handling her new situation well. But in the car on the way home, Armand began getting bad vibes, and when he arrived at his mansion, things were even worse. Everyone on staff was walking around as if on eggshells. It took Armand about twenty minutes' worth of snooping, but the situation resolved itself -- the Hernandez' quarters were an armed...
by Oediplex 8==3~ The sweetest mom discovers her boy is both convenient and delightful. [She also recounts when her dad fucked her at nineteen!] Like the name of Madame DeVille's moniker, Cruella, some names fit the personality they are bestowed upon. Disney came up with that evil woman's apropos handle. My mother's folks named their only child, a daughter, Candy. This was shortly before the infamous 1968 movie was out. Though there were aspects of mom that paralleled the...
As I watch you lying there, naked and trembling before me, I cannot help but become aroused at the sight of you. Though you willingly submitted to the restraints, the blindfold that now keeps you in a state of constant awareness was a bonus you weren’t expecting. I know you were aroused by it though; the soft moan that escaped your lips as I slipped it over your eyes a dead giveaway. I know your body as well as I know my own; every contour, every flaw as familiar to me as my own face. I know...
Eighteen He is in a rather swank hotel room, unpacking his suitcase after the 9 hour flight across the pond. The business trip to London was going to be a bitch, 5 days of bullshit meetings with bullshit customers, but that was what the job was about. What was most unfortunate was that the scheduling conflicted with Hers, and there was no way to coordinate time together in England. Just before leaving the office yesterday, he had received a small package. He opened it, found another, smaller...
Twenty Four Ode to Green and Black He looks like he is in shock, sitting there on the sofa. His eyes are fixated on the football game displayed on the 60′ screen, but she doubts he’s even aware of who is playing. It has been a hell of a work week for him, and he is just above catatonic as he tries to unwind. They had planned on a night out, a great steak followed by some quality time at their favorite local club. When he walked in the door, however, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. To...
Interlude 3 The hotel encounter was 4 weeks in the past. She had recovered from the evening, at least physically. Her head was still wrapped around what happened, and she found herself day dreaming back to that evening far too often… She wonders what, if anything, is next. It is Thursday afternoon, back at the office after another boring lunch. She checks her email. There’s a weird one. Opening it up, its from Southwest Airlines. It’s her confirmation for a flight to New Orleans Friday...
Interlude I: The Promise of Sand Sand lies underfoot, silent, unknowing, windswept. Sun streams down on vast reaches of sand, it’s journey complete. Silent sand, caressed by sun, warmed by the indifference of chaos, sand drifts along the boundary between land and sea. Between what was, and what is. Between being and becoming. Sand drifts just in silence, it’s passage measured in heartbeats, it drifts on wind-borne currents. Rhythms of an ancient dance define the random thoughts of drifting...
In the second week of the New Year of Our Lord, Eight Hundred and Seventy Eight, The Danes broke out from their winter camp at Gleawanceaster and once more assailed the Kingdom of Ælfred. The King was at Cippanhamm for Yuletide when the Danes descended out of the snow on the small Saxon host. Ælfred and his companions were taken utterly by surprise. They tried to stand at the river but were overwhelmed. The fighting was fierce and bloody and the waters of that unhappy stream ran red with the...
Introduction: Husband finally sees wife after two day absence Interlude This is a bit of a look into our life. This is a true story, short, but honest. I was horny as hell, no other way to soften the expression, horny, wanting to pounce and pound my wife with reckless abandon. But as is usual with me I didnt want to cum fast, I wanted to draw out any pleasure, keep things going as long as possible so that my mind is swimming in the experience. I also wanted to make sure my wife cums first....
Maid to Order -- Interlude (Part 3)"I was sort of hoping you might help me out tonight," Kayla said. Herquestion didn't seem directed at me."What did you have in mind?" Marisa responded."Well, since so many of your "gurls" can't or won't, I was hoping youmight fuck me with your strap-on tonight. I need it bad."Marisa laughed. She glanced over at the alarm clock. "We might have tocombine our activities," she said. "I don't have time to wait for you tofinish round two with Stacey." I came to the...
Interlude 3 – The Farthest-Out Times (so far) – TV/CD , mast, fetishesWell, I believe I may have covered most of my fetishes between my previous blog posts and my intro paragraph here on Xhamster, but I may not have covered the extreme maxxximum extent to which I have taken each one. So for a quickie post, left let see if I can remember the “best of the best,” so to speak. I started typing one up for a conversation I was having with another user, and it got me so exxxcited I had to go...
Interlude - Fetishes – SmokingFor as long as I can remember, I have had a smoking fetish. Let me properly define my particular parameters of the smoking fetish as I experience it. I am sexually aroused by feminine females and feminine-looking crossdressers smoking cigarettes. Men smoking are a turn-off. Cigars are a turn-off. Pipes are a turn-off. Non-white cigarettes are a turn-off. “Cork”-tipped cigarettes are a turn-off, they must be all-whites. Length must be at least 100 mm; 120 mm are...
Midnight Interlude----------It was well after midnight when the taxi pulled into the driveway of the farm. The barn and main house were dark. The young woman, Kelly, stepped out of the cab with a single bag clutched in her hand as she paid the driver. She looked around toward the house hoping someone was still awake, but there was no movement to be seen. To the side of the barn were dimly lit path access lights leading off into the darkness. She glanced at the confirmation sheet and followed...
Back when Paul1952 published "Sultan's Choice", I asked if I could set a story in the Tabloid Tales universe. He was kind enough to say yes. He was also kind enough to read this story before I posted it and correct some mistakes that I had made in my use of British terms. Thank you, Paul, for your time, your kindness, and your stories. Ellie Tabloid Tales: Memphis Interlude By Ellie Dauber Copyright 1999 The Wheatsheaf Pub -- Wapping London -- October '99 It was...
Agents of Gor: Interlude A Girl Considers her Situation in the Morning Light by Albedo This is a fan-fiction based in the Gor universe. All rights to the characters and situations of the Gor universe belong to John Norman. This work is written without his express permission. This story is explicitly not to be reposted on any pay sites. The author, Albedo, authorizes the readers to archive it themselves. No other dissemination without the author's permission, please. ...
Constant in All Other Things First Interlude by Fakeminsk ([email protected]) Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent -Much Ado About Nothing From her position behind the one-way glass overlooking the octagonal operating theatre, she stared down at the body. The harsh florescent light did nothing to...
Agents of Gor: Part 7.5 - Second Interlude A Girl Reflects on her Night of Service in a Paga Tavern by Albedo This is a fan-fiction set in the world of the Gor novels. All rights to the characters and situations of the Gor universe belong to John Norman. This work is written without his express permission. This story is explicitly not to be reposted on any pay sites. The author, Albedo, authorizes the readers to archive it themselves....
Interlude by Justine duMonde Justine did not know when she had fallen asleep, but she did know it was after incredible sex. Sex with Lulu was always incredible. And waking up with Lulu cuddled next to her? That made her smile. Justine watched Lulu breathe for a few minutes. She smelled of Dior Addict, champagne and afterglow. Justine gently kissed Lulu on the cheek, heard her moan softly, then crawled out of the huge bed. Walking on stockinged feet as quietly as she could in the...