Mark Is Cuckolded By Amelia's Boss

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Amelia is corrupted by power, money and sex.
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"Take a seat, Amelia," Mr. Baas smiled.

Amelia, his secretary -- who these days went by the grand title of Personal Assistant -- sat opposite her boss, voice-recorder at the ready so she wouldn't miss any of his instructions.

"You can turn that off, Amelia," Baas said, "I just want to know how things are going with you, and your job here. Give it to me, please."

She passed the recorder over, he glanced at it to make sure it was off. "Certainly, Mr. Baas," she replied, wondering what this was about.

Mr. Baas took a few seconds to appraise her, liking again what he saw. Fit young body, good mind to go with it. A lot of research had gone into selecting Amelia for this job, a lot of detailed research which would no doubt have surprised her, had she known. Good genes, healthy, and ambitious. Exactly what he needed.

Except for the husband, Amelia's husband. Still, that counted in her favor as well. An attractive girl with no husband, that would be a flaw. One would ask, "what is wrong with her?" But not in this case. A lovely girl, a lovely marriage.

Now, to start tearing that to shreds. He smiled at her.

"I'm worried about you Amelia," Mr. Baas said. "You have looked a bit troubled recently. I want all my employees to be happy. Do you have problems with your marriage, perhaps?"

"Oh, no, Mr. Baas! I love my husband."

"Excellent! Financial worries, maybe?" he stared into her eyes.

"How did he know?" Amelia wondered to herself. Indeed, a lot had been going wrong recently. First Mark had lost his high-paying job for no obvious reason, and was having trouble finding another. Meanwhile the bank was threatening to foreclose on their mortgage, somehow they had heard that Mark had lost his job, and their income stream was down somewhat. Their car had needed expensive repairs, something unusual had gone wrong with the transmission, further straining their budget.

Aloud, Amelia replied, "A few things have gone against us recently, Mr. Baas, but we are coping, thanks for asking. My husband lost his job, but we are managing on my income. I'm very appreciative of my position here."

Mr. Baas looked at her impassively. He knew all this already, having made sure through his agents that they were under this pressure. A few contacts had ensured her husband was out of work, and likely to stay that way. He had made sure that their car needed repairs, and that the repairs were expensive. And he had contacts at the bank. Ah yes, all going to plan.

"Amelia, you're a great PA. You've worked hard, you anticipate my requirements, and have made a very valuable contribution to the smooth running of Head Office here. I would like to give you a bonus payment, just a once-off to help you out with your financial difficulties. Then I know you will be able to concentrate totally on your work here."

"Oh, that would be great, thank you!" Amelia's eyes shone with joy. She felt her cares falling away, their money worries could be over, and she and Mark would be able to relax.

"As a matter of fact, I have your bonus right here, Amelia," he said, opening a cupboard in the wall and pulling out a small leather briefcase. "Look!"

She walked over and stood next to him as he opened it. Inside were piles of $100 bills. Her eyes boggled. So much!

"It's half a million dollars, Amelia," he smiled at her, gently putting an arm around her waist. She was so dumbstruck by the amount of cash she hardly noticed it. "I would want something in return, though ..."

Finally his words penetrated her consciousness. She glanced at him, "Such as?" She became aware of his arm around her waist now, holding her more firmly now.

He gazed directly into her eyes, dropped his eyes to her breasts, licked his lips, languidly looked over her entire body. His meaning was obvious.

"No fucking way!" Amelia responded angrily. "You can shove your money!" She strode for the door.

"Amelia!" She slowed a bit. "That is no way to talk to me. If you want to keep your job you'll be polite."

She fumed. She couldn't afford to lose the job. With her face tight she replied, "I'm sorry Mr. Baas, I have to decline your offer. We'll make do somehow without the bonus. Good evening, sir." She turned and left.

*

Amelia drove home, furious. Should she tell Mark? He had enough worries already, and nothing had really happened. She still had a job, she hadn't done anything to be ashamed of, and their money worries were no worse than before.

Next morning, inexplicably her car wouldn't start. She didn't have time to wait for it to be repaired, or towed, and taxis were impossible to get at this hour. She took a bus to work, arriving a bit late. Mr. Baas frowned at her, but said nothing. The day passed with no more references to bonuses or what might be needed to get one.

The bus trip home that evening was uneventful, except that two men that she didn't recognize got off at the same stop and walked slowly a little way behind her, almost as if they were following her. It was a bit creepy, so she was glad to get inside her home. Half an hour later the doorbell rang. Someone doing a survey. "Did she feel safe in her home?" they were asking. Some sort of home security survey. Once she got rid of them, Amelia started to feel a bit spooked. Was her boss behind all this? Surely not!

Over the next two weeks the niggling pressure increased. Strange noises outside the house at night. People following her, maybe, maybe not. More threatening letters from the bank. The phone stopped working for a few days. Not enough to go to the police with, but she started to feel frightened.

*

That Friday evening, Mr. Baas asked her to stay back for a bit. After the other staff in the managerial part of the office had left they were alone together in his office.

"Well, Amelia, are you sure you wouldn't like that bonus?" he asked. He got the briefcase out again, and opened it in front of her eyes. "Here, touch it, feel how real it is." He gently took her hand and placed it onto the piles of bills.

She hesitated for a moment, and he knew he had won. Now he just had to press his advantage home.

"No thank you, sir, I just couldn't," she replied, slightly less certainly than two weeks ago.

Mr. Baas thought to himself, "Touching loyalty to her husband. Time to drive a little chink in that armor."

Aloud, he asked, "What do you suppose Mark does during the day while you are working, Amelia dear?"

"He watches the television, he told me."

"Ah, but what does he watch?"

"Daytime soap operas, I suppose? War movies? I don't know for sure."

"Hmm. Let me confide in you Amelia. I did something slightly unethical, although you'll never be able to prove it to anyone else. I had surveillance cameras installed in your house while you were all out. Let me show you what your husbandreally does while you are out."

He pressed a button in his desk, and a section of the wall slid aside to reveal a large TV screen. He pressed another button, and a video started playing. The picture was obviously taken from a camera on the wall of their main living room. Mark was sitting in a chair watching the TV. To her horror Amelia saw that Mark's pants were around his ankles, and his hand was stroking a rather engorged penis. A split-screen effect showed what Mark was watching. Porn!

As the TV showed two guys fucking a girl at the same time, Mark's hand could be seen moving faster and faster. His mouth went slack, and a big stream of cum shot across the floor. Once he had stopped pumping it out, Mark looked around guiltily, disappeared off-camera for a few moments, and then re-appeared with a sponge, wiping up his mess.

Mr. Baas stood next to Amelia as she watched with a mixture of horror and fury. His arm went around her waist again, but she hardly noticed.

"Look, this is a couple of hours later," he whispered softly. He pressed a button, and the same scenario was repeated, except with a different lot of porn. Mark seemed to have quite a large supply. Once again he shot his load, although not quite as much this time.

Amelia ground her teeth in fury.

"Let me ask you something, Amelia dear," Mr. Baas said. "Has Mark been as keen in bed as usual?" He stared into her eyes, and winked.

He knew! She went red. There must be another blasted camera in the bedroom! Their sex life had indeed taken a dive recently. She assumed it was because he had lost his job, but it looked as if the porn girls were more important to him than she was. Her eyes filled with tears. She had been working hard to support the two of them, and all Mark could do was pleasure himself at home. While she worked.

Mr. Baas stood behind her, his arms around her lightly. "Time to choose, Amelia. You can walk out of my arms, out of that door, and out of this job. You will be penniless, and only have your worthless husband for company. Or, stay here, do what I say, and you can have the money, and lots of other things too."

He started to slowly move his hands up to her breasts, kissed her lightly on the neck. "Just walk away Amelia if that's what you want. Tell me to stop, if that's what you want," he murmured in her ear. His hands reached her breasts, cupped them.

She felt revolted. This rich old fool daring to touch her, feel her, put his hands on her breasts. How dare he! It was disgusting. She pushed at his hands, tried to push them away from her. For a moment they didn't move. He was physically powerful, as well as a powerful man, a rich industrialist.

"Amelia," he whispered, holding her against him. "Are you sure? Sure you want to walk away from the money? From me? From your job? Back home to Mark? Neither of you employed? Mortgage foreclosed. Tossed out onto the street? Are you certain?" The words went softly into her ear, as he held him against her with his strong arms. She was forced to stay, to listen to his obscene proposal.

He started to lazily rub her breasts through her smart business shirt. One hand undid her top button, slid inside her shirt.

She struggled harder, "Let go of me!"

He did not. "Look ..." he said. He moved one hand down her body, down to the top of her pants. His other hand still held her tightly against him. She struggled, but to no avail. She knew the office was soundproofed because of the confidential meetings that took place. His hand flicked open the top button, slid down inside her business pants, seeking its goal.

It slid further down, over her panties, violating her private space. That space that only her husband was supposed to touch. He reached a bit further and found what he was seeking. A wet spot. She was aroused, he knew it, she knew it, and she knew thathe knew. She felt ashamed. She felt guilty for doing this to Mark, feeling aroused at another man's touch. It was so wrong. A hot flush suffused her face.

Then Karl pressed in gently with his finger, against the wetness on her panties, pushing inwards. "You're loving this aren't you Amelia? Your body is, you don't need to deny it. I canfeel it. You're thinking of Mark aren't you? Your marriage vows. But ishe thinking about them? While he is wanking? Wanking while you are working to save your house? Is he thinking of you? Is he looking for a job? Seems not, eh?" His soft voice went on insistently.

His hand caressed her panties gently rubbing. She could feel the wetness within, the wet spot was larger now, she was sure. His fingers would be wet, he would be able to feel her sexual response. It was humiliating.

She felt her resolve starting to crumble. Those insistent hands touching her breast, her sex. Then as Mr. Baas went on about Markwanking, Marknot working, Marknot looking for work, she started to feel furious at Mark. How dare he! If he was half a man she would have been able to walk out of this. Away from the hand in her pants, the hand on her breast, the whispered voice in her ear.

But Mark wasn't a man, she realized. Not a proper one. Shooting his seed over the floor while she was out. His dick in his hand, looking at the vapid girls on the porn videos. Not wanting to fuck her recently because he was "too tired".

She remained silent. He smiled, as she relaxed slightly into his arms, the tension dissipating from her body. As it did, she relaxed, backing up against him, her back to his front. She felt his cock pushing into her buttocks from behind. She knew this was the moment of no return.

"OK, what do I have to do?" she asked, sighing, submitting.

"Well, my dear, what I ask you to, basically. Half a million buys a lot of cooperation, you know. Tonight, to seal the deal, I want you to come next door with me. I have a little apartment here, and I want you in my bed. When we finish," and he touched her chin with his hand, bringing her eyes back to him, "when we finish, we can discuss the future."

"A lot of things have been going wrong in my life, the bank, the car, creepy things outside at night. I expect that to stop."

"I think you'll find your worries will be over, Amelia." He held out his hand.

"Good." She took it, and followed him to his private apartment. "And what about Mark?"

"I have plans for Mark, trust me, I don't think you will be displeased." She raised her eyebrows. "I'll tell you later." He grinned.

Inside the apartment, he locked the door. They were alone. She shrugged her shoulders and started to undress.

"Wait, no rush," he said, stopping her. "I want to savor you properly. In the office I couldn't really without making you uncomfortable, but I think I can, here." His eyes roamed her body. He went to a sideboard and got out an expensive bottle of wine, opened it. He offered her a glass, pouring one for himself.

Amelia noticed that there was a dining table, already set with white linen and cutlery. "Expecting to eat?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes," his eyes crinkled with pleasure. Shortly afterwards a soft chime sounded, and he opened the door to allow an elaborate meal to be served up by an upmarket catering company. "Please." He gestured to the table.

She looked him in the eye. "You've gone to a lot of trouble to get me here. May I ask why? You could afford as many girls as you want."

"As a matter of fact, I don't want some tart. I wantyou. You are smart, intelligent, young, fit, strong. You are really rather lovely. And the fact that you are married adds a certain charm," he smiled softly.

"What charm?"

"You'll see. It will be fun, I assure you. Mark might even enjoy it, stranger things have happened."

"You aren't planning to kill him or anything like that?"

"No, no, I promise you. Now, eat up."

"Perhaps I should ring Mark and tell him I'll be late."

"Fuck Mark," he stared at her.

"Hmm, maybe you are right," she responded, recalling the video of him wanking.

They started eating. After a short time, he said, "Take off you shirt please, Amelia."

Wordlessly she complied, continuing to eat her meal just wearing a bra. His eyes briefly enjoyed the sight of her tits.

Then, "Now the bra please."

She reached behind herself and unclasped it. Then, avoiding his eyes, she let it slide from her breasts. The bra hit the floor. He admired her firm young tits bouncing slightly as she ate. They both knew what he was doing. Asserting his control over her. She had crossed the line, agreed to do whatever he asked her to.

She smiled at him. "Satisfactory?"

He nodded. "In every way." He was acknowledging her submission to his will.

They finished the meal. She was surprised and pleased that his eyes were now on hers and not her semi-naked body. It showed good self-control. Not many men could look you in the eye, she reckoned, if your bare tits were on display. She was starting to become intrigued by her situation. Reflecting, she realized that perhaps the whole exercise with the shirt and bra was done to show her this, to impress her. "Why did he evenneed to impress me?" she wondered. He had screwed an agreement out of her with sheer power, but now was taking a different tack.

Meal over, they sat sipping wine. Amelia asked, "What am I supposed to do with half a million in cash?"

"Really, that was to impress you that it existed. I wouldn't take it all home with you, it would be dangerous. You can if you want to, of course. But I suggest you take as much as you feel comfortable with. I'll keep the rest here for you. Or you can ask me to deposit it into a bank account that you nominate. Be warned that banks, and government departments, tend to look with suspicion on large cash transactions. Before you know it they'll have you pegged as a drug dealer. Plus, you may have to fill in tax forms if you lodge a lot of cash."

She nodded.

He continued, "Let's go to bed, just to confirm our arrangement. Then we can talk details."

She smiled back, walked over and kissed him. She was starting to feel the power in him as an aphrodisiac. "Let's".

In bed, she found him a passionate and considerate lover. He admired her tits with his eyes, then his hands, then his mouth. He declined her offer of a blowjob initially, being satisfied to run his hands all over her body, feeling it, exploring it, knowing it. He pulled her slacks down after a while, and then her panties. He seemed in no rush. As the minutes passed she found herself relaxing into it. She couldn't recall Mark taking this long over her.

He gradually disrobed too, but in no big rush. A garment here, a garment there. All the time his attention seemed to be directed at her, at her pleasure. She couldn't fully understand it. He had blackmailed her into this, he could have forced himself onto her,into her, whenever he wanted. But no, he seemed to want her to appreciate the moment. As his hands, his mouth, explored her body she finally realized what was meant by the Biblical saying "to know a woman". He was really getting to know her. In preparation for fucking her.

Amelia felt herself getting hot. Hot and wet. She felt ready. A feeling she hadn't expected. She had expected revulsion, disgust, fear. But instead felt heat, sensuality, passion, desire. "I'm ready now," she said in a low voice.

"Ready for what?" he teased.

"For you."

"To do? ..."

"Fuck me, please!" she begged.

"With pleasure." His hard cock had been pressing into her side for a while now, making its presence known. Now he maneuvered himself into position, pushed. She felt him against her opening, then sliding in.

"Oh, wow!"

"Yes?"

She said nothing, but started panting, eyes closed. He got into a rhythm, thrusting more deeply and more quickly. While he did that he used one hand to stimulate her. She shuddered when she felt it. It touched her clit, a fraction of an inch from his cock pushing past his fingers, her clit, inside her. The wetness lubricated everything, his cock, his fingers, her clit. "Oh fuck!" she yelled, arching her back.

She felt the heat from his cock, his orgasm building, as did hers. His cum shot deeply into her, as she clamped herself tightly around him.

"Oh, fuck!" she whispered when it was over. "That was the best ever! How did youdo that?"

He smiled into her eyes, kissed her, ran his fingers over her lips.

Once they had relaxed, he gave his orders. "Ring Mark. Tell him you are held up and can't make it home tonight. Tell him there is a place you can sleep. Lie to him. I'll be listening."

She rang her husband and lied through her teeth, as instructed.

"Good, now come and sit next to me." They went back into the living room. She sat next to him, wearing a robe he had provided for her. It happened to fit perfectly. He gently ran his hands over her body as they drank the rest of the wine, and relaxed together in companionable silence.

Half an hour later there was a soft chime. He picked up a phone discreetly nearby. He just grunted once, and hung up.