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From: Shakes Peer2B <shakespeer2B@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (New) Success, Inc.: Case 001 - Beginning (MF, MM, oral, anal, slow)
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Date: Tue, 17 Aug 2004 13:10:06 -0400
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This is more an exploration of a concept than a stroke story, so if 
you're looking for stroke material you might want to pass.  If you're 
just looking for some entertainment that might give you something to 
think about, come on in!
________________________________
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults. If 
you're not both of those, don't read it.  Characters in a FANTASY don't 
get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who don't 
use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die. You don't 
live in a FANTASY so be safe.  The fictional characters in my stories 
are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what 
they do - someone could get hurt.

If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, 
congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the 
characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, 
since all of these characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You 
can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but 
if you make money off of it, you're breaking the law and pissing me off.
_________________________________
The companies in these stories are fictitious.  Any resemblance to real 
companies, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
_________________________________
Success, Inc.: Case 001 - Beginning (MF, MM, oral, anal, slow)
(C)Copyright 2004 - Shakes Peer2B
shakes_peer2b@NONOsbcglobal.net
(remove 'NONO' from the above address to contact me)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shakes_Peer2B/
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Shakes_Peer2B
________
"I dunno, George," Trenton grunted as he finished slicing his drive into 
the rough between fairways, "Crap! Anyway, I've had the best consultants 
in. I've talked to everybody on the Executive team, and they all tell me 
the same thing: 'Sell the company'!"

George Caulder was Trenton Garvey's best friend.  Had been since high 
school.  Trent didn't mind sharing secrets with him because George was a 
Teacher at the local high school, and would never pass on any of what he 
heard

"There's got to be another way!" George said as he punched a wooden peg 
into the gouged sod near the front of the tee, balancing his ball 
carefully on top of it.

Neither of them noticed the glance that one of their impromptu foursome 
gave his partner. A few weeks earlier Phillip Masters and his longtime 
friend Walter Jackson had been involved in a heated discussion about the 
frustrations they had experienced with the companies for which they worked.

___________

"I just can't believe they're so fucking blind!" Walter kicked an 
overstuffed chair in his frustration, "If you don't think like them, you 
can't have a good idea! What a load of shit!"

"Nah," Phil mumbled through the foam on his beer glass, "they just don't 
have to suffer the consequences of their poor decision-making! If 
somebody was there to kick their asses every time they screwed up, 
they'd HAVE to make better decisions."

"Maybe we should start a consulting company to do that for them!" Walter 
laughed, his white teeth gleaming in the midst of his ebony countenance, 
"We could call it 'Kick Ass Consulting'!"

"Nah," Phil said again, "We'd want a kick-ass name, but in a subdued 
way, y'know? How many of these pucker butts we work for do you think 
would hire a firm called 'Kick Ass Consulting'?  We need something more 
reserved, but upbeat, you know?"

"Are you serious about this?" Walter's brow furrowed as he contemplated 
his red-haired friend.

Phil shrugged, "Not really, but who knows? Some great businesses have 
come from insane ideas..."

"All right," Walter joked, "That's enough beer for you, dude!"

Phil shrugged, and grinned that infectious grin that was his trademark, 
"Hey, can't blame a guy for puttin' his brain in gear! And by the way, 
I've hardly touched the beer!"

__________

"Jesus Christ, George!" Trenton complained as they trudged down the 
fairway, caddies hauling their carts for them, "The damn company has 
been around for years!  I know my shit! I couldn't have screwed it up 
that badly!  Hell, we're even still profitable, but we're stagnating! 
The only way we can get new product is to buy other companies. 
Something's gotta give, but I'm damned if I know what! This last layoff 
is going to hurt us down the road.  We've weeded out everything we can 
from recruiting, development, sales, and business development, and now 
we've had to hit support and consulting.  We saved some money by sending 
our support offshore, but the customers complain that they can't 
understand those people in India, and they're getting really nasty about 
it!"

"Hey, let 'em complain!" George replied absent-mindedly, as his eyes 
searched the fairway for his ball, "They've invested a ton in your 
systems and a little inconvenience with support isn't going to make 'em 
jump ship. Too much momentum!"

"Maybe so, but I've got a bunch of big software licenses coming up for 
renewal," Trent griped as he beat the tall grass of the rough looking 
for his ball, "And a lot of 'em are making noises like they're going 
somewhere else.  It's not like when we started. Hell everybody out there 
does what we do! We don't have time to invent anything anymore. Our 
entire development budget is taken up with bug fixing and putting in all 
the features that our competitors have introduced.  It was a hell of a 
lot easier when we had the market to ourselves, I can tell you!"

Phil gave Walt another grin.  Walt grinned back.

__________

"Hey Walt!" Phil called from across the pub, "I've got it!"

"Got what?" Walt didn't have to raise his voice. This time of day there 
weren't many people in their favorite watering hole. That was why they 
always took an early lunch.

"The name for our company!" Phil grinned.

"Company? What company?"

"You know," Phil coaxed, "the consulting company we talked about the 
other day!"

"You're still thinking about that?" Walt chided, "Hell, I thought we 
were joking!"

"We were, but it kind of stuck with me." Phil said, "I think it would be 
fun to think it out, as if we were going to do it. Make kind of a game 
out of it, you know?"

Walt grinned, wiping at his foam mustache with a bar napkin. "Yeah, I 
guess it would be fun at that! So what did you come up with?"

"Check it out!" Phil handed him a slick new business card.

"'Success, Inc.'" Walt read, "But aren't most consulting firms 
partnerships or something? By the way how much did you spend to get a 
process color print job on this? Christ, that's awfully expensive for a 
game!"

"Most consulting firms are actually corporations," Phil replied, "but 
they don't advertise it.  Companies want a corp-to-corp relationship 
with their contractors now because of the tax law changes.  And no, I 
didn't spend squat on the cards.  Bought some of those 'clean edge' 
business card forms at the office supply place and designed the logo in 
Illustrator.  Did a little layout work and printed 'em on my 
photo-quality inkjet!"

"Damn!" Walt exclaimed, "They look professional!"

"Cool, huh?" Phil said smugly, "Oh yeah, I did something else, too!"

He pulled a red file folder from his laptop case and handed it to Walt.

"I tried to think of ten fundamental principles for running a company to 
ensure long term success," he said as Walt scanned the paper inside the 
folder, "but I need your input.  I think numbers eight and ten are a 
little weak, and I'm not sure they're really 'fundamental principles'."

"Why ten?" Walt asked absently.

"It's kind of a magic number." Phil said, "Easy to remember, and big 
enough to hold sigificant content, but not so large that, with a little 
effort, one couldn't remember what's on a ten-item list."

"Number eight is just a corollary to number four." Walt had always been 
the more analytical of the two. In fact, it had been the complement of 
Phil's visionary creativity and Walt's keen analytical mind that had 
made them such a successful team at Cal Poly where they had done their 
business studies. Each time one had a project to complete, they'd work 
together to come up with something that usually blew the profs away!

"Number ten is okay, but I don't think it's fundamental enough." Walt 
continued, "I think there's a deeper principle under that.  Let me look 
'em over and I'll give 'em back to you next week. I think we need 
stronger, more concrete language on a couple of 'em too."

__________
"So what are you going to do?" George asked as his five iron came to 
rest on his shoulder.  The ball hit the slope at the back of the green 
and rolled back toward the hole.

"Damned if I know!" Trent had cut his losses and chipped out of the 
rough, but the seven iron shot from the fairway put him smack in the 
bunker. "I've got maybe two more quarters before the board decides we 
need new blood, and if I don't come up with something, I guess I'll be 
pounding the pavement."

"Excuse me, sir!" Phil said on impulse, as he pulled one of his 
home-made business cards from his wallet, "I... that is, WE, can help!"

Walt's mouth dropped open in astonishment as his buddy handed the card 
to Trenton.

"I apologize for the intrusion," Phil said, "but I couldn't help but 
overhear your conversation.  You're in a bind. Exactly the kind of bind 
our firm, Success, Inc., was formed to help companies out of."

Walt tried to get Phil's attention without the others noticing, but Phil 
studiously ignored him.

"How do you think YOU can help ME, son?" Trent asked skeptically. This 
kid looked like he was still wet behind the ears.

"It's true that I'm young, sir." Phil admitted, "but I have had the 
advantage of studying the experiences of some of the finest and some of 
the worst minds in business. One of the problems you're experiencing is 
a shortage of fresh thinking.  Success, Inc. can show you how to 
overcome that by the application of a simple principle.  We can also 
show you how to regain your market dominance, not by doing what everyone 
else does, but by showing everyone else how to best serve your customers."

Trent studied the card, and eyed the young man speculatively. "You'll 
have thirty minutes to convince me."

He handed the redheaded kid his own card. "Be there at eight AM, Monday 
morning!"

"No sir." Phil said firmly.

Walt's mouth dropped open again.

"Early Monday morning is one of the worst possible times for making 
important decisions." Phil lectured,  "Tuesday, at 10:30 AM will be much 
better. You'll have cleared out any remaining cobwebs from the weekend 
and will be totally focussed on work. Our proposal will require your 
total concentration, so we will meet after the morning rush of Monday's 
leftover business, before hunger becomes a factor but not after a meal, 
so you won't feel drowsy."

Trent stared at the young punk for several long moments. Who the hell 
did he think he was, anyway! Damn cocksure little prick!

"Monday morning, eight AM or not at all!" Trent leaned into the guy's 
face.  He was a tall, well built man and he knew his size could intimidate.

Unfazed, Phil held his ground. Shrugging his shoulders he said, "Suit 
yourself. If you change your mind, the number is on the card."

Without another word he strode back to his ball and started his backswing.

Dumbfounded, Trenton raised his voice. "Don't you know how to 
compromise, boy!"

Phil looked at him coolly. "The reason we will be successful in turning 
your company around is that we will base our advice on fundamental 
principles. One compromises on issues, never on principles."

With a clink, his six iron launched the ball and a healthy divot of sod 
down the fairway.  The ball bounced just in front of the pin, struck the 
pin, then came to rest two feet from the hole.

At a loss for words for the first time in a very long time, Trent turned 
to George.  George raised one eyebrow, then shrugged, as if to say 
'Damned if I know!'.

This pipsqueak got under his skin, but the very gutsiness of his actions 
intrigued Trenton.

"All right, I'll bite." he said, "Ten thirty, Tuesday morning. This had 
better be GOOD!"

_____________

"Yeah!" Phil exclaimed, looking over the revised list of principles, 
"That's really good! But how do we make them stick to these?"

"Kick their asses!" Walt grinned, "Isn't that how this whole discussion 
started?"

"Well, maybe," Phil temporized, "but we really need a carrot and stick 
approach."

"Yeah, you're right." Walt rubbed the close-cropped wool atop his head, 
"It needs to be something that can be administered pretty quickly as 
punishment or reward, but it has to be memorable. Traditional incentive 
systems won't work.  We need something visceral, primitive. You know, 
quick, sharp, and to the point!"

Both friends sipped beer while lost in thought. Suddenly, both snapped 
their fingers and pointed at each other.

"SEX!" they exploded simultaneously.

"Nah!" Walt made a pushing motion, "It'd never work! We'd have all kinds 
of lawsuits if we tried that."

"Not if it was clearly spelled out in the contract!" Phil said 
excitedly, "The trick would be getting them to sign a contract like that."

"Yeah, and the contract would have to be airtight, non-negotiable!" Walt 
muttered.

A smile spread slowly across Phil's face as he looked devilishly at his 
friend.

"You're not thinking of...?!" Walt began, a smile creeping across his 
own features.

Phil nodded slowly, "...Freddie!"

Their friend Fred Mason was a practicing attorney with several business 
degrees, and one of the most unconventional minds they had ever 
encountered.  Most thought him a bit of a flake, but while he had 
outraged judges and opponents alike with his unconventional approach, he 
had never lost a case. Neither had he ever pled one out.

"I'm going to meet him tomorrow for lunch." Walt said, "I'll see if he 
wants to play!"

"Okay," Phil was still lost in thought, "now about sex as punishment and 
reward..."

"Oh that's easy!" laughed Walt, "Kathy!"

In college, Katherine O'Connell had had a reputation as a slut.  As the 
friends knew, however, she was actually quite selective about her 
bedmates.  Once a bedmate was selected however, he (or she) had better 
be ready for a wild ride!  To their knowledge, no one had ever 
discovered a sexual act that Kathy refused to perform.

When she wasn't working on her reputation, however, Kathy was one of the 
sharpest students in their classes, and had often collaborated with them 
on projects, contributing insight and an instinctive knowledge of human 
behavior that turned theory into reality for them.

____________

"Are you crazy!" Walt exploded when they were finally free of the 
foursome, "That Cracker Jack card doesn't represent a real company! 
We've just been playing a game, and now you're acting like we're real 
consultants! Are you trying to get us arrested or something!"

"Actually," Phil smiled smugly, "That card DOES represent a real 
company. I got the paperwork back from the state yesterday. I'm CEO. 
You're CFO, Kathy's VP of Consulting, and Freddie, of course, is the 
legal department!"

"How did that happen?" Walt gasped, "Last I heard, we were just playing 
a game!"

"Well, I had a long talk with Freddie, and he assured me that the 
contract is unassailable." Phil's smile faded as he answered his friend, 
"And Kathy's in.  Freddie filed the incorporation papers a couple of 
weeks ago."

"You weren't going to tell ME about this?" Walt was getting more than a 
little hot under the collar.

"Actually, that's what I was going to do today," Phil replied, "but our 
first customer came along before I got the chance."

"First customer!" Walt exploded, "You crazy bastard! You don't actually 
think this game we've been playing is going to help a real life company 
succeed, do you?"

Phil watched his tirade impassively.

"At first, I didn't." He replied, "It WAS just a game! Then Freddie told 
me, kind of off-handedly, that the contract he made up would actually 
hold up in court. That got me thinking more seriously.  Then Kathy said 
that to sell it, you'd need a desperate CEO, somebody with nothing left 
to lose.  Well, hell, this economy has produced plenty of those. I just 
didn't expect to find one so soon!"

"Okay," Walt huffed, "Suppose you DO sell this crazy scheme.  Suppose 
the guy is crazy enough or desperate enough to go for it.  What then? 
You don't actually think you can turn this company around for them, do you?"

"No," Phil looked him in the eye, "but I think WE can.  Think about it! 
We've hashed this out over the last few weeks, and Freddie and Kathy 
have rounded off the corners and streamlined the process. The only real 
sticking point is getting a customer on board."

"It's one thing to game board a crazy notion like this, Red," Walt 
replied, "and something else entirely to do it in real life!"

"You're looking at it all wrong, Walt!" Phil's voice was low and 
intense, like his gaze, "What if it DOES work? What if we really CAN 
turn these companies around? Think of all the people who won't get laid 
off, or the investors who won't lose their shirts! Hell, think of having 
the job of making companies run the way they should! Wouldn't that be 
better than crunching numbers for those stuffed shirts you work for now?"

"And what do we do for income while we're waiting for this to pay off?" 
Walt wasn't giving in that easily.

"Ah! That reminds me!" the redhead pulled a sheaf of papers from his 
laptop case, "I called in a few favors and put together a hell of a 
business case, if I do say so myself!  All I need is the CFO's signature 
on the bottom line and we're funded for the first three years of 
operation! Of course, we'll have to eat beans for a while, but we did 
enough of that in college! Whaddaya say, bro? Want to stick your neck 
out with me one more time?"

Walt looked over the papers without responding, dumbfounded that his 
friend had been able to secure financing for such a hare-brained scheme. 
Suddenly, though, he found himself contemplating a future where HE 
called the shots. Where executives jumped to do his bidding, and as a 
result, their companies ran more smoothly than ever before.  'Well,' he 
thought, 'youth is the time for risk-taking!'. One of his professors had 
told him that.  They were all still single, and though they were risking 
some pretty decent salaries, there were no families to suffer if things 
went sour.

Without a word, he signed in the blanks over the printed 'Walter 
Jackson, Chief Financial Officer' and handed the papers back to Phil.

Phil just looked at him with that grin on his face. "What are you giving 
them to ME for? You're the CFO, and if this isn't finance, I don't know 
what is!"

Walt slid the papers into his own case and shook his head. "I still 
think you're crazy, dude, but you need somebody to put some semblance of 
sanity on your wild-ass schemes, so I guess I'll go along and hold your 
hand."

______________

"Trenton Garvey," Phil introduced, "This is Katherine O'Connell.  She 
will be the consultant on your case."

Trent couldn't help but look the brunette over.  The pseudo-conservative 
business suit fit just a little snugly on her voluptous figure, and 
tantalizing glimpses of the inner curve of her breasts peeked through a 
hint of red lace at the opening of the white, translucent blouse.

"Did you receive the contract I messengered over?" Phil was all 
business, as Katherine had advised.

"Yeah, I got it. I didn't find it funny." Trent scowled, "You have a lot 
of nerve wasting my time with some kind of sick joke! The only reason I 
let you in here was so I could watch your faces as the cops hauled you 
away!"

As he reached for the phone, the red-headed punk leaned over his desk 
and spoke in a low, intense voice.

"You have followed conventional wisdom from the day you formed this 
company, Trenton Garvey." Phil said, "and you've surrounded yourself 
with people who think like you! It's no wonder your company is failing 
and you can't figure out what to do about it! What that contract offers 
you is a chance to do something great! For us to succeed, however, we 
need to KNOW that you are COMMITTED to our program! We ask you to put 
your dignity on the line as a sign of that commitment, not your 
company's money, not your company's stock! We need to know that YOU 
PERSONALLY are committed! If you are willing to do that, we can help, if 
not, go ahead and make that call!"

He sat down in one of the guest chairs, and Katherine took his place 
leaning over the desk. He never saw the startling green of her eyes, 
since his own were riveted on her cleavage.

"You must also remember," she said, in a throaty, sultry voice, "that we 
reward good performance the same way we punish poor performance."

She took a deep breath, and another button on her blouse popped free, 
exposing even more of her luscious breasts.

"So what's it going to be, Trent?" Katherine toyed with the next button 
down, "How committed are you to the success of your company?"

Through the haze of his lust, Garvey thought that these two must really 
be crazy, but somewhere in the back of his brain a thought niggled: 
'What if they are right? What if they have the answers I need?'  Unlike 
some of the other consultants, they weren't charging by the hour.  The 
contract was clear: His company paid a single, flat fee.  If there were 
cost overruns, Success, Inc. would have to eat them. Granted, the price 
was not cheap, but it would never go up.  For him, though, the price 
could be very high! On the other hand, if this brown-haired witch was 
the one administering the punishment, that could be fun too!

"What the hell...!" Trent muttered.  The contract amount was well within 
his budget and his signature authority, and if this didn't work, he 
could still sell the company.

"You promise that these, these, sex acts will remain private?" He asked, 
"No one but your company and I will know about them?"

"That's our deal, as spelled out in the contract." Phil interjected as 
Katherine seated herself on the edge of the desk, 'accidentally' giving 
Garvey a peek up her skirt. "We take our contracts seriously.  You'll 
also note that WE commit to your success by requesting to be paid at the 
end of the contract, instead of the beginning.  If you don't meet 
specifically spelled out criteria for success by the end of that period, 
we don't get a dime."

Trent had forgotten, in his outrage over the 'other' provisions of the 
contract, that little 'no lose' clause.  These people must be pretty 
damn sure of themselves!

"You can bet your asses that I'll hold you to that little clause!" He said.

"That's fine with us, Mr. Garvey," the red-head said calmly, "as long as 
you're willing to put YOUR ass on the line to make it happen!"

Trent started a retort, but realized it was just his pride taking a 
beating.  He'd weathered worse and would get through this.  In fact, as 
he thought about it, he started getting a boner over the idea of that 
little brunette tying him up and punishing him for being such a bad CEO...

The CEO pulled the contract toward him and initialed each of the sheets, 
then signed the last page. Ms. O'Connell took the contract and left the 
office. As she closed the door behind her, Phil handed Trent a red 
presentation folder.

"These are the principles by which you will run your company from now 
on." Masters said, "On the following pages you will find the reasons for 
those principles. Commit them to memory, then commit TO them. These are 
golden. They are your keys to success. By following them you will 
transition your company from a floundering startup with no clue about 
how to handle its competition to a mature, profitable enterprise that 
will be around long after your competitors have folded or been gobbled 
up by some other company."

Garvey leafed through the pages. Some of the stuff in the list on the 
first page made sense, but some of it, he snorted at.

"Okay, one and two are obvious, so what?" he scoffed, "Number three will 
never fly. Four - eh!"

Trent waggled his flattened hand, palm down, fingers outspread, to show 
his skepticism.

"Five will never get past the board," he continued, "nor will six and 
seven, eight is hogwash, and nine... If we worked like that we'd never 
get anything done! Ten... who cares? We don't do anything that affects 
the environment."

Trent tossed the folder on the desk in dismissal. "If that's the best 
you've got, you're NEVER going to get paid!"

"Nonetheless," Phil said evenly, pushing the folder back in his 
direction, "You WILL implement each and every one of these."

Just then, Katherine returned with copies of the signed contract. She 
gave the original to Phil, handed a copy to Trent, and slid the other 
copy into her briefcase.  The red-head left, leaving the door unlocked.

"Come on, big boy," Katherine said seductively, "Let's get you out of 
those clothes!"

She smiled up at him as she helped him out of his jacket and tie, then 
stripped off his shirt, trousers and underwear, leaving him stark naked.

"We'll work on teaching you how to do this for yourself!" the brunette 
said playfully as she pulled off his socks, "Now be a good CEO and bend 
over the end of your desk. That's a good boy!"

With a ratcheting series of clicks, she cuffed his ankles to the short 
legs that supported his desk.

"Hey! What...?!" he began.

"Now, now!" she chided, "You've been a bad CEO and need to be punished 
so you'll know what not to do in the future!"

Katherine tapped the copy of the contract that was still on his desk to 
remind him what he'd committed to. Then she produced a longer set of 
shackles and proceeded to bind his hands to the legs at the other end of 
the desk, forcing him to rest his torso on its surface.

"Now," Ms. O'Connell's voice became suddenly harder as she drew a short 
cat-o'-nine-tails from her bag, "for  failing in your duty as CEO, five 
lashes. For being such a pompous prick that you wouldn't even hire 
anyone who thought differently than you, ten lashes.  For your callous 
disregard of employees, customers, and investors, a good ass-reaming so 
you'll have some idea what they felt like in their dealings with you!"

Trent started to protest, but as his mouth opened, Katherine wedged a 
rubber ball between his teeth and fastened its straps quickly behind his 
head.

"It's my turn to talk, Mr. Garvey." she said, "YOU need to listen for a 
change. Not only is this in your contract, but we have the muscle and 
the legal right to enforce the punishment provisions of your contract 
any time we feel it's necessary.  This particular session is your 
orientation. In this session we apprise you of the reasons for your 
company's current state, and point out where YOU went wrong. The 
punishments we administer will ensure that you do not forget those lessons."

"Now, five lashes for failing in your duty." She stepped back and laid 
the cat hard across his back.

Katherine had a lot of experience wielding such an implement, and knew 
just how hard she could swing without cutting flesh. The welts were 
another matter. They would be a slowly fading reminder of this session 
for days to come.

Trent was grunting and sweating, biting hard into the rubber of the gag 
by the time she finished.

"Ten lashes for your insane notion that only your ideas matter, and that 
anyone who doesn't think like you isn't worth listening to!"

Trenton Garvey was a Vietnam war veteran. He had never been a POW, but 
he'd been through survival training, and had suffered worse beatings 
than this, so he couldn't understand why, by the time the tenth lash 
fell, he was crying like a baby!

Then it hit him: It wasn't the physical pain, but the pain of knowing 
that what the witch said  was true! He HAD failed in his duty to the 
company, in large part because he was so DAMNED sure that he knew 
everything he needed to know about running the company that he had no 
patience for dissenting opinions. How STUPID could he have been!

Just then, the door to his office clicked open...

__________

"So that's the plan then?" Phil looked around at his 'Executive Team', 
"Kathy will handle the punishment we've laid out, then we'll observe the 
effect."

"Not quite." Kathy replied as the others turned to look at her, "I've 
studied this guy, and a dildo up the ass from a beautiful woman..." she 
paused to preen a little, drawing a laugh from the others, "won't do it 
for him.  He plays kinky sex games and would probably get off on it. 
The whipping and lecture should come from me, because it will be like 
'Mommy' is displeased, but we need something else for the rest..."

"Any ideas?" Phil asked the others.

"Actually," Kathy rejoined, "I've got the answer..."

She leaned over and whispered in Phil's ear.  As she did a grin spread 
across his face.

When they parted, Phil asked "You think he'll go for it?"

Kathy smiled, saying "Leave it to me!"

______________

Walt's head whipped back and forth, "No! I'm not doing it!"

"You're the only one who CAN do it effectively." Kathy said reasonably. 
"I've studied this guy, and not only is he homophobic, he's a closet 
racist.  He needs his horizons broadened if he's ever going to be 
successful."

"So how does being raped by a black man help a homophobic racist?" Walt 
asked, "I'd think it would only make things worse on both counts!"

Kathy shrugged, "It will, at first.  But in my experience, a guy like 
that, especially one who's already taken it up the butt from a woman, 
won't be able to stop himself from enjoying it.  When that happens, 
he'll hate you even more."

Walt looked at her, eyebrows raised, shrugging with arms outstretched as 
if to say 'Duh!'.

"That's when I take over." Kathy continued, "I'll talk him through it 
and help him reconcile his feelings and prejudices."

"And what about MY feelings and prejudices?" Walt asked indignantly.

Kathy ran a soft hand sensuously around his ear and down the side of his 
face, cupping his cheek affectionately.

"I'll help you reconcile THOSE afterward." she said seductively, 
standing on tiptoe to kiss him gently on the lips.

______________

Trent whipped his head around in time to see a black man in an 
impeccable business suit enter and lock the door.

Without comment, the black man removed his jacket and trousers, folding 
them neatly over the back of one of the chairs. His boxers followed, and 
Trent's eyes grew wide. Sounds of distress emanated from behind the gag 
and he struggled against his cuffs.

Katherine knelt and took Walt's limp member into her mouth. In a few 
moments, it was hard as a rock.

"Trent, dear," Kathy whispered in Trenton's ear, "the employees you laid 
off, and the investors who've lost their money, not to mention the 
customers who suffer through your idea of customer service and quality 
control, never had a say about how they got screwed, neither do you! 
Take it like a man and remember what it feels like! At least Walt is 
using lubrication!"

Sure enough, a thick finger invaded his rectum, smearing something 
slippery in and around the quivering orifice. Trent bit into the rubber 
of the gag and tried to steel himself for the invasion, forgetting, in 
his distress, that that was exactly the wrong thing to do.

The large, purple/black head of Walter's cock could be seen only as a 
bulge under his foreskin.  He jammed the loose hood into the depression 
left by his finger, and without ceremony, plunged inward.  Despite his 
every effort, Trent felt his last defense give way as the massive tool 
invaded his innards.  Waves of shame washed over him, as, without 
ceremony, the black man began to saw in and out, sending jolts of pain 
up and down Trent's spine.

The CEO's cock, once proudly erect at the thought of being dildoed by 
the beautiful brunette, wilted and hung forlornly between his thighs. 
Harder and faster the black cock pistoned into his innards.

Walt, though not really attracted to men, was, nonetheless, excited by 
the idea of being able to screw this pompous bastard into submission. As 
he pounded into the man's cringing ass, he envisioned his own boss bent 
over submissively before him.  Also, in the back of his mind, was the 
reward Kathy promised him if he did a good job on this guy.

"Trenton," Kathy addressed the client conversationally, "Do you consider 
yourself a moral man?"

The executive's head shook vigorously back and forth.

"Well at least you're honest." Katherine continued, "Unfortunately, 
that's going to make this harder for you. I guess we'll have to appeal 
to your own sense of self preservation and dignity."

With that she nodded at Walt, who redoubled his efforts, driving 
forcefully into the executive's ass.

Kathy removed the gag from the CEO, saying, "Now remember, Trent, your 
admin is right outside the door, so if I were you, I wouldn't get TOO 
vocal. That could lead to some embarrassing questions later."

Her hand played idly with his balls as she asked, "Now, you've had your 
ass fucked by a woman before, haven't you, Trent?"

"Hell, no!" the CEO responded.

Instantly Kathy's hand tightened painfully, drawing a gasp from the 
executive.

"Now, Trent," she cooed, "how are we going to establish a meaningful 
dialog if you're going to keep lying to me?"

"AAARRRRGGGHH! Shit!" he cried as her sharp nails dug into his scrotum, 
"Okay, okay! Yes! All right? I HAVE let a woman screw me! Are you 
satisfied?"

"Not yet, Trent, baby," Kathy replied, easing her grip, "But I will be 
before we're done here! Now, tell me: What's different about what's 
happening to you now?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Trent grunted.

"No, not to you." Kathy replied, scratching lightly with her nails, 
causing his scrotum to shrink reflexively, "I need you to spell it out, 
Trent, and so do you."

"Hey, ungh," he panted, "he's a guy! It's one thing to be screwed by a 
woman with a dildo, but another thing to be raped by a big black guy!"

"Why is it another thing?" Kathy asked, stroking his cock to hardness, 
"Does it feel different?"

"Well, yeah!" Trent grabbed at the line she tossed him, "Yeah, it DOES 
feel different!"

"How does it feel different, baby." Kathy's soft hand was driving him crazy.

"It's sorta softer, and, and..." Trent concentrated on the cock in his 
ass, trying to come up with other differences, "warmer! It's definitely 
warmer!"

"Yes," Kathy prompted, "I guess that would feel different, but does it 
feel worse...? ...or better?"

To his surprise, Trent realized that the soft velvety flesh of the 
living rod inside him actually felt better than the cold, hard plastic 
of the dildo!  He wasn't about to concede that, though.

"Worse!" he growled, "It feels worse!"

Instantly, his balls were in agony again.

"And you were doing so WELL with the honesty, Trent!" Kathy said sadly, 
"Are we going to have to go through this any more?"

"ARRGGHHH! NO!" the executive cried.

"So, tell me again, dear," Kathy released his sack, "better or worse?"

"Better!" he said grudgingly, "Yes, the bastard's cock feels better! Are 
you happy now?"

"Except for a few days once a month," Kathy replied, "I'm generally 
always happy! But we ARE making progress! Now, if it feels better, will 
you want to do this again?"

She was back to stroking his cock.  Combined with the realization that 
his ass was enjoying its reaming, the caresses to his man-meat had Trent 
right on the edge.

"Not with any black son-of-a... AGGGHHH!" Trent's exclamation was cut 
short by the agony in his scrotum.

"Now, Trent!" Kathy chided, "Not only is that not politically correct, 
it's really a bad attitude for the CEO of a company!  How are you going 
to set a good example for your people, thinking like that?"

"Think about it baby," Kathy continued, once more stroking his manhood, 
"It's really dark in there. What does it matter what color it is if it 
does the job? Hmmm?"

It DID feel good, regardless of who was doing it! Every time that spongy 
glans bumped across his prostate, Trent got a delicious jolt of pleasure!

"It's just..." he temporized, "...you know, the, uh, idea of it!"

"The idea of what, Trent?" Kathy cooed into his ear, her warm breath 
tickling him salaciously, "The idea of that long, hard cock, sliding in 
and out of your willing ass? The idea of somebody taking pleasure from 
you as if you were a woman? The idea that in a few minutes, Walt here is 
going to fill you with hot, sticky cum?"

As her litany continued, Trent's loins began involuntarily moving to 
slide his cock through Kathy's pre-cum lubricated hand. At the same 
time, his ass rose to meet each of Walt's strokes.

"Oh God!" he moaned, thrusting harder, taking the cock deeper with every 
plunge!

Just as he felt his organs tightening up to deliver their own load, the 
hand was gone from cock, only to be replaced scant moments later by a 
pitcher of ice water, instantly stifling his incipient orgasm!

"What'd you do that for!?" he roared, frustration making him forget for 
the moment where he was.

"You haven't earned an orgasm yet, Trent." Kathy replied, "There's much 
more for you to learn, but I think that's enough for today's session."

With that, Walt's thrusts sped up once again, and when Kathy poked a 
lubricated finger up his ass, he came, shuddering, deep in Trent's bowels.

__________

"Now Walt," Kathy told her CFO later that evening, as she captured his 
wrists in a pair of handcuffs, "You should have taken those Principles 
to heart yourself. Your closed minded attitude almost lost us that account."

She pulled her cat out of her bag, but Walt was having none of it.

"I HAVE taken those principles to heart, Katherine," he said, "Have you? 
  There is nothing in the principles about open or closed minds.  What 
it says, in point number 9, is, and I quote: 'We value approval, but 
treasure dissent, for only those who disagree with us can teach us.'  If 
you're planning to punish me for violating the principles, I think the 
cuffs are on the wrong wrists!"

Kathy looked thoughtfully at her intended target.  "Hmmm," she said, 
"You have a point, but what about Number One: 'We accept any 
responsibility that is ours,' etc.?"

"My role in this whole surreal scheme has always been that of skeptic." 
Walt replied, "It's my responsibility to add a dose of sanity to the 
crazy schemes the rest of you cook up.  I understand that, and take it 
seriously!  If I agreed with everything you and Phil and Freddy cook up, 
what the hell good would I be?  I'm the analyst, not the creative 
genius.  I'm the guy who keeps the rest of your feet on the ground so 
you can keep your heads in the clouds!"

Without a word, Kathy unlocked the handcuffs and handed Walt the whip. 
"You've got a good point, Walt, I'm sorry!"

"What?" he grinned, hefting the whip "You want me to believe this would 
be punishment for you? This is ME, Walt, remember?  Tell you what, for 
one of your famous blow jobs we'll call it even! What do you say?"

___________

When Trent arrived at work the following day, he found Walt and Kathy 
waiting for him.

"Not again!" were the first words out of his mouth.

Katherine rubbed her soft, generous breasts against him as she loosened 
his tie. "We're going to try something a little different today, Trent." 
She cooed.

"Remember how good it felt when Walt fucked you yesterday?" Kathy nipped 
his earlobe as she whipered her question.

"Yeaaah..." Trent answered  slowly, reluctantly, "right up to moment you 
almost froze my cock off!"

"Now Trent," Kathy breathed, "it wasn't your turn!  I'll tell you what, 
though, if you're a good CEO today, and learn what you need to learn, 
I'll let you cum! How does that sound?"

He looked at her skeptically and she pouted, "Now Trent, I am a woman of 
my word.  I, too, live by the 'Principles of Success', and if I promise 
something I will deliver, if you hold up your end of the bargain."

"What do I have to do?" Trent was not a trusting man, and he was pretty 
sure there was a catch coming.

"Well, Trent," Kathy unbuttoned his shirt and lightly pinched one of his 
nipples, "Walt is going to have to be naked if you want him to make you 
cum, so why don't you undress him?"

"Is that all?" Trent barked sarcastically.

"You know I'm going to make you earn your orgasm, Trent, baby," 
Katherine whispered, "so let's just start with you taking off Walt's 
clothes while I take yours off, okay?"

She already had him out of his jacket, and in spite of himself, Trent 
couldn't help but remember how much better that warm, softly sheathed 
cock had felt inside him than the dildo his hired mistresses had used.

So what was the harm in taking the guy's clothes off?

A small voice inside him said, "Because only faggots take off other 
men's clothes!"

As if she had read his mind, Kathy said, "Does it make you feel gay to 
let another man fuck you in the ass? Are you gay if you take off his 
clothes?"

"That's what gay people do!" he almost shouted.

"Gay people wear clothes, too." Kathy chided, squeezing his balls 
through his clothing to remind him about listening, "Does the fact that 
YOU wear clothes make you gay?"

"Well, uh, no."

"Then what does?" Kathy asked, "You need to separate fact from opinion, 
Trenton.  As a CEO, you're required to do that daily.  What is it that 
makes a person gay?"

"Enjoying sex with people who are the same sex as you! Everybody knows 
that!" Trent was getting flustered by this line of questioning and 
couldn't understand why.

"That's close, Trent, but you left out an important word." Kathy 
squeezed again, a little harder, "The word you left out is 
'exclusively'.  If a person enjoys sex exclusively with people of the 
same sex, then that person is gay. But what is a person who, like you, 
enjoys both sexes?"

With the 'like you' still ringing in his ears, Trent replied, "Bisexual."

"And is 'bisexual' the same as gay?" Kathy prompted.

"No." Trent offered no more, not liking where this was taking him.

"So, if you take off Walt's clothes and let him fuck you in the ass 
because you like it, are you gay?" Kathy wasn't giving any quarter.

"No...! No it doesn't!" suddenly Trent's tone changed to one of wonder, 
"As long as I still enjoy women, then all I've done is expand the number 
ways I can enjoy sex!"

"Very good, Trent!" Kathy cooed, "You've had an epiphany! Now think how 
that came about...!"

He looked at her blankly for a moment then realized there was a specific 
purpose to the question.

"It came about because... because I finally listened to an idea that was 
different than my own!" A look of wonder crossed his face as a smile 
spread over Kathy's.

Half an hour later, Trent came like a firehose as Walt blasted cum up 
his ass and Kathy swallowed his cock.

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned, still pumping into Kathy's eager mouth, "I 
haven't cum like that since I was a teenager!"

____________

On her way out, Kathy handed him the 'Principles of Success' packet, and 
told him to study it over the weekend, internalize it, study it some 
more on Monday, then sell it to the Board on Tuesday.

The board, accustomed to doing whatever Trent wanted them to do, passed 
the resolution to adopt the principles without too much discussion. 
Then he set about replacing them.

New board members were each handed a copy of the 'Principles of Success' 
and given one edict: "We agree on these ten things.  Everything else is 
open for discussion."

Over the next year, those managers who couldn't break the habit of 
automatically agreeing with their superiors were replaced. One of the 
key criteria for selecting their replacements was whether or not they 
brought new ideas with them.

Managers began using the 'Principles' as guides in managing their 
business units. Individual contributors began referring to them when 
they wanted to make a case for doing things one way or another.

Turnover rates increased sharply in the first eight months of Trent's 
tutelage over Kathy's knee, then fell to record lows.

About the beginning of the third quarter of that same year, product 
management ceased requiring development to add features that had been 
introduced by their competitors.  Instead, they opened a dialog with the 
customers' end users, finding out how THEY wanted to do their business 
and giving them the tools to accomplish it.

A new process was introduced in development. It borrowed heavily from a 
number of off-the-shelf methodologies, but was tailored for the size and 
culture of the company.  Because it emphasized quality development 
instead of quality assurance, the QA headcount shrunk dramatically. 
Former QA people were retrained to develop new product.  As time 
elapsed, and products hit the market from this new process, more and 
more resources were shifted from fixing defects to building new 
capabilities.  Customer service was brought back to the US and retrained 
to build solid relationships with end users instead of fending off their 
complaints.

Within two years, Trent's company was leading not one, but several 
markets in which competitors just couldn't seem to keep up, and Trent's 
admin was fending off calls from recruiters almost by the hour.

Success, Inc.'s landing of its second contract was made much easier by 
the enthusiastic, if somewhat red-faced endorsement from the CEO of a 
company that had made one of the most dramatic turnarounds in history.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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