My Ambition Pt. 04

That evening I tried to phone Nev. There was no answer. She'd sent me a WhatsApp message earlier while I had been in Mr Melo's office, doing what I had done... I couldn't stop blushing at the thought of it, my pulse quickening with a surge of arousal. The feeling of remorse for my actions in using that poor woman conflicted with an intense yearning for the sense of control it had given me. The strength of my emotions surprised me, and I wanted to talk to someone about it.

I thought that was Nev, the only one who might understand, but she was not available. Her message was cryptic and strange, saying that her review had gone badly, that they didn't think she had what it took, and she had to leave. She was going back home, that very evening...

So, I spent the night alone, awash with emotions, not knowing how to think about everything. All I knew was that this job was my opportunity to make something of myself, an important start to my career, and that I'd do what was necessary to be successful. It seemed that I had made an impression, at least on Mr Melo. I'd shown that I 'had what it took', even if it was a bit embarrassing.

Because my probation review with the CEO was the next day, I tried to quieten my mind. This was a huge thing, because it would determine whether I would have a job after my internship. The fact that it seemed to have gone badly for Nev did even less to give me confidence, but I had to have faith that Mr Melo would put in a good word for me. I tossed and turned in anxiety wondering what the next day would bring, before eventually falling asleep just before midnight

At precisely ten the next morning, I presented myself before Joao Dias' PA, projecting more confidence than I felt. I was wearing a navy pinstriped skirt and jacket, with a thin white top, dark stockings, black pumps. The skirt was short, and the heels were high, just like the executives here seemed to like, but still smart enough to be professional.

I was still smarting about a comment from Nic, who I'd bumped into on the way here. He'd smirked knowingly at me "I believe you enjoyed the entertainment yesterday."

"I... I.. umm..." I couldn't help but blush and look down with embarrassment. How did he know already? Did everyone know? I felt my hands become clammy and my stomach sink.

He continued when I didn't know what else to say. "I told you, everyone does it... or at least those that are given the opportunity." A smarmy gloating wink on the word 'opportunity'.

"I must be going. I have..." I needed to get away from him and his supercilious attitude. This was not what I needed, just before my review.

"Oh yes. Your review. Good luck impressing the boss." His knowing smirk had returned. I didn't answer, trying to put the exchange out of my mind, but I couldn't help feeling he knew something that I didn't.

Now here I was, being shown into the CEO's office, about to face my future. I took a deep breath and walked in through the solid wooden doors.

It was a large corner office, minimalist in furnishing, emphasising the amazing views over the city and the bay. Mr Dias was sitting at his desk, reading a file. He didn't look up or greet me when I entered, so I tentatively made my way towards his desk, standing there waiting to be acknowledged, not knowing what else to do. My hands were clasped nervously in front of me, as if they might protect me...

Joao Dias was a distinguished looking older man, slightly thinning hair, chiselled tan features, broad shoulders, but not heavy. He looked like he kept in shape and I guess people would call him handsome, although I preferred younger men. The bookshelf behind him was full of little pictures and what I assumed were mementos from his travels to different parts of the world, China, Africa, amongst others. He didn't seem like the type of man that bought an image.

I had time to study them all, as I stood there waiting for him, thinking that he was either very rude or intentionally unnerving me. After what felt like hours, but was only about a minute he looked up, his eyes slowly following my figure, from my heels, up my legs, pausing at my hips and then again at my chest, before reaching my face. A hint of a smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth, but otherwise his face was inscrutable, his eyes piercing mine as if he were reading my soul.

"Miss Rodrigues, I'm pleased to meet you." The formality was slightly surprising, but it was his voice that was compelling. Deep and authoritative, he spoke like a man who expected to be listened to, was used to giving instructions. I wondered if that was something men like this learned or was it innate, something they were born to. Was it a product of being male, with testosterone coursing through one's veins, or being strong, and towering over others? I didn't know, but at that moment I envied it. He'd paused briefly, studying me, but before I could respond he continued. "I've heard good things about you."

"Thank you... Sir." Like in Mr Melo's office yesterday, the title just burst out, like it was the only way to refer to him. I felt like a little girl standing in the headmaster's office, not knowing how to act so I blurted out "It's an honour to meet you."

I'd seen him from a distance around the office, but we'd never been introduced. He didn't seem to spend much time in the office, or at least in the parts that I frequented. But this was Joao Diaz, important and consequential, with access to heads of state and captains of industry. An icon I'd looked up to. And now I had a chance to prove myself. I was in awe in his presence...

"You're a very attractive young lady." He said it like it was an observation he was making, not something he was saying to flatter me... while his eyes panned over my frame, as if sizing me up, evaluating me.

"I... err... thank you." I stammered in response, not expecting that, not knowing how else to respond. Was it even an appropriate thing for a boss to say?

"Stand up straight, hands by your side. Look professional. Not like a timid schoolgirl." His instruction crisp and measured, not expecting any resistance. "And take off that jacket. Women shouldn't wear jackets... too masculine."

I stared back at him stunned. This was not what I'd expected. I'm not sure what I did expect, but it was not this. I didn't know what to say, so I murmured "Really?" As if I were trying to process his words, deny their reality.

"Yes. Really!" He snapped back holding my gaze, imposing his will on me. My resistance wilted under that stare, because we both knew who was in charge. "Unless you want to walk out that door and never come back."

Moments later I was standing there, my jacket on the chair next to me, hands by my sides, standing up straight shoulders back with my breasts pushing proudly against the flimsy material of my top. Just like he wanted, his eyes wandering over me, unashamedly eyeing me.

"Very nice... Turn around for me will you... slowly." I should have expected it by then, but it still jarred. That he saw me in this way, as my physical assets... before my abilities. But if this is what it took, I could survive a bit of ogling by a dirty old man. Particularly as the alternative was to lose my job. He'd as much as threatened it.

I turned slowly on my heels, knowing that they caused my hips to sway unintentionally with each step, to push my bottom out and make my back arch, as if I was presenting myself to him. Just the way he wanted. I had to grit my teeth in frustration, but not give him the pleasure of seeing how much I disliked it. I could do this...

"Yes. You really are an attractive young woman, Lucia." This time his words did sound flirtatious to my ears, but it may just have been the ordeal he was putting me through. "And I like my employees to be attractive."

"Thank you, Sir." Again, I didn't know what else to say, but felt a response was necessary... when he left a silence hanging. I met his eyes, not quite defiant, but not quite accepting... trying to show that I could cope with this, whatever this was... that I had 'what it took' to get ahead.

"I believe you enjoyed yourself yesterday afternoon." That hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth making it seem like he was mocking me, causing my blushing embarrassment to deepen.

Standing there on display in front of his desk, his words conjuring up images of me with my legs spread wantonly and a nameless woman slurping at my sex. That the CEO knew what I had done and was enjoying teasing me about it, hit me like a punch in the stomach... especially since the previous few minutes clearly indicated how he saw me. It was so deeply humiliating, that if I wasn't so shocked and frozen in place, I might have run out of the door right then. In retrospect I wish I had...

"They really are well trained." He continued his smile morphing into a grin. I realised he didn't expect me to respond, my look of dismay and crimson blush were all the admission that was necessary. "We believe we deserve to enjoy life and our girls provide a great deal of enjoyment for those of us who have earned it. Those of us who have taken risks and done what needs to be done."

I just nodded meekly, not trusting my voice nor my words. He sounded like he was including me in the 'us', so I remained silent, hoping...

"Do you have what it takes to 'deserve'... to 'earn' your place?" He stood abruptly as he said that. "Are you willing to take risks? To put yourself out there."

It was uncanny the way that his words mimicked those of the 'headmistress', but I didn't dwell on that. He'd asked me a question and I believed I knew the answer "I... I think so, Sir."

"I know you do. You took a risk in obeying me." He'd come round the table to stand beside me. "You took a risk yesterday by taking what you wanted." He took a long hard look at me as I looked back, a rabbit in the headlights of his penetrating stare. Before he instructed. "Come over here with me, I want to show you something."

I jumped in fright as his hand brushed against my skirt, touching my backside, pressing too hard and lingering to long to be unintentional. But then moving softly up my back to press gently between my shoulder blades as he guided me over towards the window. I followed mutely, not knowing what to expect from this increasingly strange and disturbing review. An encounter that I knew without a doubt would impact on the course of my career.

"Look out there. People scurrying around, going about their business. Going to work. Trying hard, never getting anywhere." We looked out over the bustle of the city, towards the suburbs and the favelas in the distance. "Most people are risk averse. Are not willing to take chances, so they become stuck." His hand had slipped up to my neck, as if he were pointing me in the right direction, to the places that he wanted me to look. "Those that have been successful have risked losing everything. This company has many such people, Lucia. Don't you also want to get what you deserve?"

'Yes, Sir. I do." His syrup laden words let me put away my doubts, made me want to believe in him, that I too could become one of the 'haves' and rise to the top. That this company was my ticket...

"Your friend Nev didn't have what it takes. She proved to be average, unexceptional." He changed the topic unexpectedly, reminding me of my ashen faced friend rushing past me yesterday. "We had to terminate her contract, because we don't have space for..."

He left the words unfinished as his hand tightened around my throat, not painfully, but restricting. I tried to squirm away, but he was too strong and held me in place.

"Please don't..." I croaked, the shock of his grip taking my voice away as he turned my face towards his. "Don't hurt me..."

"I believe you are exceptional. You just need to accept it" He smiled encouragingly, ignoring the horror on my face and my attempted resistance. What was I supposed to accept? Doing what it took... this... "I want to offer you a job. In client relations. It will be the start of something new for you."

"Are you serious... really?" I couldn't believe it. Everything prior to that moment... forgotten.

"Yes, very." He replied with a predatory smile, his face close to mine. So close that I could smell his cologne and the morning coffee on his breath.

I beamed at him incredulously. Wow. A job, what I'd been hoping for, working so hard towards. It would be the start of something new and wonderful. I'd be at the bottom rung for sure, but with hard work, I could get ahead, be someone. Make my father proud.

"Thank you... thank you, Mr Dias Sir. I won't let you down. I'm prepared to do what you need. I am, Sir." I gushed my appreciation, astonishment and joy suffusing my words, ignoring that he still had his hand firmly around my throat.

"I know you will, Lucia." He turned me back around, so that I was standing in front of him looking back out over the city. "You will not be one of them... average, boring... you have what it takes."

I was still basking in the thrill of the news, when I felt his hand grip my buttock. I flinched away, but he didn't let go, holding me in place by my neck as he fondled my bottom. Like a puppet or a doll, dangling at her master's behest.

"Hey... what... no... don't... please." I couldn't form coherent thoughts or words, knowing that this was wrong, that he should not be doing this... but realising subconsciously that this was where it would lead when I had displayed myself for him earlier. That I had allowed it, or even encouraged it. I didn't want to accept it, but nevertheless...

"You should do what it takes... I like people who are willing to take risks, particularly when they are as attractive as you." He whispered in my ear as his hand gripped the hem of my short skirt, pulling it up over my pale backside.

Visualising what he saw, flimsy purple satin nestled into the crack of my ass, the lacy edging emphasising the delicate femininity of my undergarment, put on that morning with no thought that anyone else would see them... I cringed.

I should have screamed. I should have kicked out. I should have twisted out of his grasp. I should have run, regardless of the consequences... But I didn't. I stood paralysed, whimpering my protests, hanging docilely from my neck. Thinking about the job he would offer me...

I felt him push forward on my neck as his palm cupped my exposed buttock, the position causing my upthrust ass onto his exploring hand. My forearms pushed feebly against the glass, the only thing separating me from the uncaring world out there. His finger slipped possessively between my legs and traced the edge of my panties causing me to shiver as he approached my most sensitive place.

"Good girl." He murmured as he felt me up.

What could I do? I wanted to tell him to stop, that I didn't want it. That I wasn't his 'good girl'. But I was too afraid, and he was too sure of himself. I thought about Nev, about the job, about the coffee girls who where available to those that deserved it. Is this what it took to earn a place at the table? Not to be left behind, discarded and worthless. I didn't have an option, did I? This was the price I had to pay...

With that thought in my mind his finger crept under the fabric protecting my modesty and found my slit, curling expertly to stimulate my labia. While I quivered in dismay, he tightened his grip on my neck and pushed my head further down until my torso was almost parallel to the floor, my hair hanging loosely around my face, hiding my shame from his sight. To my consternation, I felt my pussy start to moisten and unwanted tremors pervade my sex.

Suddenly he ripped my insubstantial panties down, to just below my butt cheeks at the top of my thighs. The sudden waft of air on my privates made me realise just how exposed I was. I felt sick with shame as he placed his finger back at the entrance to my love next.

"Push your sopping cunt back on my finger." He growled, his digit poised at my opening. Defiling me with his words and his actions. Making me realise just how vulnerable I was.

I don't really know if it was his hand on my neck pulling me, or my arms against the window pushing me, but either way the result was the same. His finger slipped into my vagina, welcomed it into my warm wet embrace, my inner walls clenching and slipping as he penetrated me with no resistance. Enjoying whatever pleasure this gave him, to ravish a reluctant woman in his office.

I'm sure I wanted to resist, to pull myself away. But I didn't. I just stood there pathetically, legs apart and straight, as he wormed in and out of my most private place. Then a second finger joined the first and stretched and aggravated and stimulated my hole as they casually pumped into me. I heard a moan and realised it was me, responding to his attentions as he treated me as his plaything.

"Wriggle for me slut." His snarling voice demanding obedience, the hand on my throat tightening to dispel any thought of resistance.

Even though he wanted me to participate in my own humiliation, I had gone too far and didn't know how to defy him. He had called me a slut, a name that I abhorred, but that made no difference as I stood there propped over against the window, letting him violate me. In fact, in some perverse way, it seemed to make my disembodied pussy squelch even more. I knew that he would do whatever he wanted, regardless of what I did. So, to my shame I did as he ordered. I wriggled my gushing tunnel on his probing fingers, sliding up and down and rotating my hips to aid their invasion.

To my chagrin, I felt myself get wetter, responding to his exploration, my pussy started to tingle, shivers running up my spine. I hated that I was becoming aroused at this forced invasion, loathing my natural reaction, but having no way of preventing my treacherous body from acceding to his demands.

Until I felt his moistened thumb slide up the crack of my ass and then press against the tight hole of my anus. I stopped moving, trying to pull away. I looked around at him in horror, moaning "No!"

"I didn't tell you to stop wriggling." He spat at me, squeezing my neck so that it hurt. As I groaned "Owww", I saw the cruelty in his eyes, uncompromising lust and intent, and I knew that there was nothing I could do to stop him. At that moment I realised I was lost... I'd submitted to his carnal desires and I was no longer able to resist...

As he pushed forward, I wriggled back onto his thumb, embedding it in my virgin asshole. Feeling revolted that he would want to do such a thing and hating myself for being so weak that I did not prevent him. He released my neck, leaving me helplessly bent over as I writhed on the hand in my groin, his thumb and fingers pinching the thin membranes between my nether holes.

SLAP

I jolted with surprise as pain burst through my backside, his hand surely leaving a print on my pale skin. His other hand holding me steadily in place, so I could not avoid each hit on my sensitive globes.

SLAP

"Wriggle faster. Fuck yourself on my hand." His ruthless words as horrible to my mind as the slap on my flesh. Ensuring I knew at that moment what I was... a toy for his enjoyment.

SLAP

Oooooh... it hurt.

SLAP

Please... no more.

SLAP

It hurt so much... I did as I was told. Plunging myself back onto the thumb up my butt and his fingers up my gash. A perverse double penetration unwillingly aided by my own actions. It felt awful, degrading, humiliating in a way that I had never felt before. I felt barren, bereft...

Why did I continue? Why didn't I tell him to stop? Why didn't I leave? I think my rational thought had closed down at that point. I was a shell, compliantly doing what I was told. Just hoping for it to end, to be over. To be let go and get on with my life, my new job. The job that I was earning so painfully, so shamefully with my body and soul.