Rachel is up for her yearly review. Her work ethic has been above standard and she's confident in her skills. The board plans to scrutinize every bit of her, leaving nothing untouched. Rachel knows her performance will get a raise out of them.
Rachel is back after a long vacation. It's a slow start, but Matt and Christine are both eager to supply the hands-on support Rachel needs to get back in the swing of things.
Praise for Sealing the Deal
"...if what you want is something steamy to hit the spot, by all means, I would definitely recommend Sealing the Deal."
-- Iris, Cocktails and Books
Sealing the Deal
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Zenobia Renquist
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Rachel held back a sigh of relief as the meeting wound down. Three hours of reports and presentations and haggling over budgets and other stuff that should concern Rachel but none of it did. She wanted the meeting to end already.
She twisted her wrists side to side, rubbing her skin against the fur-lined cuffs that bound her to a pole above her shoulders. The pole was anchored to a pulley system above her head and would be raised once the meeting ended. Until then, she was in a relaxed position with her elbows bent.
Well, as relaxed as she could be standing naked, except for a pair of three-inch heels, in a room full of men and women talking shop. Rachel was the boardroom table centerpiece. A second pole with cuffs kept her legs spread a few inches wider than shoulder-width, which gave the wetness dripping from her pussy an unimpeded path to the tabletop. The tap-tap of the liquid, while rhythmic, let her know she'd created a sizeable puddle.
She couldn't check because she wore a blindfold. The darkness made her situation that much more acute. Nineteen executives and their assistants stared at her body -- or had the option to stare at her body. While she would like to think she had their undivided attention, her situation wasn't new. She'd witnessed several other executive assistants go through the same ordeal -- the yearly review.
After the first half hour or so of staring at the latest centerpiece, people dismissed the person as part of the scenery. Besides, a naked person or two flaunting around the office was nothing new. Rachel had seen each of her fellow assistants in various states of undress since her start at this job. Most of the executives knew every nook and cranny of Rachel's body intimately.
She tamped down another sigh. Three hours. The only reason she knew it had been that long, and not just her imagination playing tricks on her, was because of the grandfather clock in the far corner of the board room. It belonged to Mr. Tedson, the company president. The clock tick-tocked away and chimed the hour. It had sounded three times already. Rachel feared she was headed for a fourth.
But this was all part of her evaluation.
Mr. Tedson said in his usual gruff voice, "Our last piece of business is the evaluation of Ms. Rachel Williams. This is the one year anniversary of her joining our company."
A few people in the room clapped. Rachel wanted to whoop for joy. They had finally gotten to her.
"In that time, I have received reports from you all about her performance as an assistant. Everything I have read is favorable and promising for her continued future with our company. Congratulations, Ms. Williams."
Rachel, who faced Mr. Tedson at the head of the long table, smiled at the man. "Thank you, sir."
"However, an executive assistant is not judged solely on the merit of their office work. We have another evaluation to conduct."
Several in the room sounded their agreement. Rachel heard hunger in their voices. A hunger she shared. The cuffs around her ankles clanked against the pole, keeping her legs spread as she shifted. Her inner muscles clenched, making her pussy drool more.
"Always wet and glistening," one of the women said in an appreciative voice. "It's a shame her no oral clause kept me from tasting such delicious-looking juice."
Mr. Tedson said, "You might get your chance yet, Susan. Now, then. You all know the rules. Shall we start the lottery?"
Rustling sounded around Rachel as people moved about. She imagined they were retrieving her panties. Every morning she rode an elevator full of executives who fondled and toyed her body, sometimes until she orgasmed and sometimes stopping just before. Every morning she came to work wearing drawstring panties that never made it off the elevator, at least not with her. One of the executives took her panties as a keepsake to later be used for the lottery.
Her panties came in five colors -- red, orange, yellow, blue and green -- one color for each day of the business week. And every pair had a letter and number -- one through nine -- sewn into the crotch -- A1 for the first week of January, A2 for the second, and so on until F7.
All of it in preparation for her yearly review.