A gay sex stories: P Is For Pegged Inspired by Sue Grafton’s alphabetical series.
Wilson Mathews was a bastard. And he knew it.
He ran the Mathews Corporation with none of the compassion that his father had run it with, his only concern being profit. He stalked the hallways, his beady eyes casting about, looking for a worker who was shirking his duty or a technician who was using too much material. He almost always found what he was looking for and thrived from the verbal lashings he doled out on an hourly basis. Those working for him cringed in abject fear but remained on the payroll because the money was fantastic and they knew that once chosen as victim, it would be several months before they’d be chosen again.
The Executive Secretarial position was a different matter. If a candidate lasted longer than two days, everyone was amazed. Temps often filled the role, leaving in disgust a few hours after incurring his legendary wrath and seasoned professionals often departed in tears. No one was good enough. No one was tough enough. No one could withstand Wilson Mathews.
Monday morning began as it usually did for Wilson Mathews. He arose at six and was in his office by six-thirty, a large mug of black coffee nestled at his elbow and a pair of pince-nez balancing on his bony nose. At eight-thirty, Mari Nelson from Human Resources knocked on his door.
“Come in.”
“Good morning, Mr. Mathews.”
Mathews didn’t look up from perusing the reports. “Ms. Nelson.”
“I have a candidate for your secretarial opening.”
“Good.”
“I wondered if you would like to interview her.”
Mathews lifted his head slightly, his hard gaze burning a hole into her. “Ms. Nelson, I’ve told you before that I don’t want to interview them.”
“Y-Yes, I know, sir, but I just thought … ”
“Apparently,that is the problem. Youthought.” He returned his gaze to the reports. “Just bring her up here and get her settled in. I’ll handle everything else.”
Nelson nodded and hastily departed, her cheeks flaming from his abuse but was happy that she had escaped with little damage. The last time she’d brought a candidate up, he had neatly ripped her a new asshole, claiming that it was unprofessional to hire a candidate without his prior approval. Today, his response was different as she had known it would be. Everyone knew Wilson Mathews was difficult.
Suzan Woodmoore noted the look of exasperation on the HR Director’s face but kept her comments to herself. She wasn’t sure what was going on but it was clear that the woman was not happy. She remained silent as Nelson reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a file folder and a sheaf of papers.
“Well, Miss Woodmoore, this is your lucky day. You’re hired!”
* * * * *
The paperwork and building tour took the better part of two hours. Suzan worked her way through a five page application, non-disclosure agreement, safety in the workplace acknowledgments and various other forms before having her picture taken for a badge. Mari clipped it onto the lapel of her jacket and proceeded with the tour. Suzan paid attention as she learned about manufacturing and its processes. In truth, she knew much of this information already; she had done research about the company before applying for the position.
Finally, it was time to meet Mr. Wilson Mathews, the Mathews Corporation’s Chief Executive Officer and Owner and her new boss. Nelson knocked on the door and ushered her into Mathews’ inner sanctum. Obviously, Wilson Mathews cared for the finer things in life. His conference table and executive desk were fashioned of cherry, dark red and glossy and all of his desk items, from stapler to in-box were crafted of brushed stainless steel.
When they entered, Mathews stood and Suzan examined him with the eye of a single woman. He wasn’t what you’d call handsome but because he was well-manicured and wearing a tailored suit, he looked like a powerful man. She noticed the trimmed nails of his manicured hands and the arch of his eyebrows and knew that he was a perfectionist.
“Mr. Mathews, this is your new secretary, Suzan Woodmoore. Miss Woodmoore, this is Wilson Mathews, our CEO and company owner.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mathews.” Suzan waited to see if he would extend his hand and when he did, she shook it. His expression was bland and insensitive but the crook in his eyebrows told her something different.
“Thank you, Miss Woodmoore.” To Nelson, he said, “Please see that she’s settled in.” And with that, he returned to his work, not casting another look at her.
Suzan was escorted to her desk, an ergonomic slab of cherry wood, gold piping and stainless steel fixtures. She sat, turned on the computer tower and watched as the company logo splashed across monitor’s TFT screen. Another hour of instruction from Mari brought her up-to-the-minute with the corporation’s dealings and both were startled when the lunch klaxon blared.
“I guess I’ll see you after lunch, Suzan.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Mari. I think I can handle everything.”
“All right. Have a good afternoon.”
Suzan enjoyed her lunch in the employee cafeteria and promptly returned to her desk. Not long after she’d sat down, the intercom buzzed. “Yes?”
“Miss Woodmoore, I need to dictate some letters.”
“I’ll be right in, Mr. Mathews.”
That afternoon was relatively quiet. Suzan took several letters in shorthand and left at five, convinced that she had found a wonderful job. The next day would prove to be torturous but Suzan struggled through it. When he requested the letters, she had them completed and ready for his signature. When he asked about an upcoming conference, she had the details ready and his reservations made. When she ordered lunch, he complained of a lack of mayonnaise and she gave him packets that she’d saved. She was ready for his every wish, his every whim.
Friday arrived and she had lasted an entire week and the facility was alive with gossip, everyone excited that she would be the firstever to survive. Suzan knocked on his door and was surprised to find him standing at the window and looking out.
“I came to say ‘good night’ and to ask if you’d like me to return on Monday.”
Mathews was silent for a moment. “Why is it that females always have to ask such stupid questions?”
“Maybe because males are so damned hard to understand!”
Suzan’s furious eyes met his shocked ones. “Touché!”
“If you want me to return on Monday, call me on Sunday afternoon. Otherwise, have a good life!”
The problem of Suzan Woodmoore consumed a great deal of his weekend’s free time and that alone was not acceptable. He’d lie down at night and see her imperious features and hear her authoritative voice. And another problem developed. The part of his body that he had ignored for nearly all of his life painfully jerked into life. His hand around his erect penis, he tried to make himself ejaculate but was never able to get close enough.
Sunday afternoon, he made a phone call.
“Miss Woodmoore?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Wilson Mathews.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Mathews. How can I help you?”
“I would like you to return to your job on Monday morning.”