Sign Your Ass Away

"Craig?" called Maggie as the younger man walked past her office. He frowned and let out a sigh before putting on a brave face and stepping back into her doorway.

"Did you need me?" he asked demurely. So keen to please the CIO despite the shared view that she was an almighty cunt.

Now that he was at her doorway she looked back at her desk, not even maintaining eye contact as she spoke. She was offhand, as usual, as if her whims and wishes were clearly the most important thing in Craig's day. She rattled off some request: she hadn't seen the signed-off copy of the capability transfer report Craig had been working on. It was overdue.

He stared at her with undisguised disdain as she spoke, his anger at the pointless request boiling inside him. She was overweight, with a pudgy face and outdated hair. Her skin was smooth and her cheeks had the rosy tint of someone who overindulged. But behind that harmless looking exterior was one mean bitch. Craig had finished the report weeks ago and gotten the nod from all the relevant team leads but he hadn't gotten around to completing the final step mandated by the auditors: all financial documents must include a cover sheet with all the required signatures. It was a pointless step in the process, pure bureaucracy, but Maggie insisted her hands were tied in this by the auditors and Craig needed to get those signatures before she could mark the deliverable as complete.

She glanced up at him as she finished speaking and his expression flashed back to keen obsequiousness.

"Absolutely, Maggie," he said, giving her a nod, "I'm sorry about that being late. I'll get those signatures to you immediately."

He hesitated, waiting to see if there was more but Maggie simply went back to what she was doing and after a moment he turned to walk away. Fucking bitch, he thought, sucking a deep breath to master his anger. This is ridiculous. Craig stormed back to his desk and pulled out the sheaf of blank sign-off sheets that he had in a file there, filling out the top of one with the report's details and the date before heading off to find the various team leads' offices. Five minutes later he was standing at the elevator band, leaving his desk and the actual work he had to do behind to chase pointless signatures from a series of disinterested executives.

- - -

When six-thirty rolled around Craig was leaning back in his chair, stretching after a particularly back breaking stint over a beast of a project plan. He had managed to get five of seven signatures but two of the executives he sought had been MIA. He glanced at his watch, shaking his head. No point going looking for them now, they were not the hardest working execs and by now they would be long gone. Fuck, thought Craig, he had a status meeting with Maggie in the morning and he knew it would come up.

He stood up. This is fucking ridiculous, he thought, and stomped over to the filing cabinet outside Maggie's office where she kept the signed off documents. There was no way he was going to get into shit because of something as arbitrary as a project sign-off sheet. He would find the signatures of the people he needed on other sheets and photocopy them onto his.

Locked. Shit.

He knew where the key was: in Maggie's desk drawer, but sure enough her office was locked too, as it always was. But in a perfect example of office moronity the key to her office was in her assistant's desk. So a minute later Craig was opening Maggie's door and retrieving the key, all the while rehearsing excuses in case he was caught. After a brief rifle through her desk and a slightly longer one through the cabinet he was back at his own desk, a whole bunch of sign-off sheets in hand ready to copy and paste, literally.

It was not until he had finished copying a couple of previous sheets and cutting out signatures that he noticed it. Dave Wright's signature was where it was supposed to be. And it was clearly Dave Wright's signature, but the date was all wrong. Dave Wright was Craig's old boss, and he spent July, every year, in Nantucket. But here was his signature on July 15th. Craig glanced at the title of the document Dave had apparently flown back from Nantucket to sign: Project Costing and Risk Report.

Wait a minute. Craig looked again. Comparing Dave's signatures on several documents. They were all his. No fakes here. But wait. They were all the same. Exactly the same. In all the costing reports they were completely identical, down to a tiny mark above the W that was not a part of the signature, but a pen mis-stroke, yet it had still found its way onto all of the reviewed documents.

Maggie was faking signatures on her risk reports. He was going to talk to Dave in the morning and get this bitch fired. CIO or not, faking your costing reports was a fireable offense. Heck, as an officer of the company it may be worse than if a lowly SVP had done it. Either way Maggie's time was up.

Craig smiled and went back to the filing cabinet.

- - -

Craig's night was restless. It was all very well to talk about getting executives fired but the truth was Maggie was a very dangerous woman. It came down to whether Craig really had the balls to call her on her hypocrisy. And so it was a very nervous and unsure Craig that arrived at his status meeting with Maggie. He was on time, having been keenly aware of his coming meeting with the woman he had discovered was perpetrating fraud against the firm, and he sat down in silence. His work was in good shape. He actually had a couple of things he needed her to help him with: chasing down answers from the steering committee, that kind of thing, but before he could get into the actual value-added side of the meeting she came back to the signatures.

He flinched. In all the excitement of the night before he had not actually finished faking up his sign-off sheets, but had focused on amassing his board of evidence instead. He blanked. Errr.

"Sorry, Maggie, I got five of the seven but . . ."

She cut him off, "Craig, I don't understand what the problem is here." she said with an undertone of contempt, "It's a simple task. Get the signatures. Why do you have so much trouble doing it?"

Craig seethed. He struggled with his anger, not trusting himself to reply but instead waiting for her to move on to the next agenda item.

But she did not desist, pushing onward with her mean black eyes shining out from her pudgy cheeks as she badgered, "Well, Craig? Is there some valid reason why you can't get this done?"

He did not reply.

A moment passed.

"I'm waiting."

Ordinarily Craig would have been mortified. It was not the first time he had seen this kind of childish behavior on the part of an executive, nor the first time he had been on the receiving end of it, and usually the moral superiority and rank of the executive would have made him meek and pliant. But now it was not bureaucracy it was hypocrisy, and Craig felt his patience snap like an overstretched elastic band.

"Well, Maggie," he said with cold venom, "maybe I should just have faked the fucking signatures."

They both froze, equally surprised by what had just come out of his mouth. Craig was flabbergasted, a part of his mind seeking some way to cram his own words back into his mouth. But a part of Craig also registered a look he did not recognize on Maggie's face. Something unfamiliar on that haughty visage.

In an instant it was gone again, masked by a veneer of superiority, and she postured with masterfully feigned indignation, "What did you just say to me?" her face the picture of righteousness.

And then Craig recognized that emotion he had seen in her. It was fear. Something she never felt around such peons as himself. But he had made her feel it and he intended to push onwards.

"I said, Maggie, that maybe I should just fake the signatures, like you do on the project costing and risk reports."

Her eyes opened wide. Her mask was shattered. She struggled to restore her cool but it was a poor imitation of her previous posture. An imitation which fooled no-one. She was mute, and Craig went on.

"That's right, Maggie. I saw the signatures, last night I went looking for an old sign-off sheet. Ironically I was looking to copy some old signatures myself so I could avoid your wrath. But then I found a few little forgeries already in the file."

He saw her shoulders tense, registered a bead of sweat on her neck as it began its path down between her breasts to be lost in her blouse.

"I wonder, Maggie, What Dave Wright would think if I showed him his signatures on those reports."

"No!" her voice was meek, broken. A squeal almost, and Craig saw her for what she really was: a coward just like every petty bully from kindergarten to college. A feeling of power came over Craig and he felt a serene sense of calm. But then he saw another drop of sweat slide down between her breasts and his calm began to morph into something darker.

"No, Maggie? What do you mean? I shouldn't show Dave those reports? But what about the auditors, Maggie?" Craig said with ladled facetiousness, "Tell me, Maggie, it is such a simple task, getting the signatures, why did you have so much trouble doing it?" He mocked her tone of earlier in their conversation and she nodded, clearly looking to talk her way out of it.

"You're right, Craig. I was a bitch." she said with forced humility, "I shouldn't have pushed on that. Tell you what, why don't we take a look at your project plan? I'm sure there is some way we can alleviate some of your workload, maybe give you a Friday or two off, you know, off the books. Huh?"

He chuckled, "A Friday or two off?" he laughed again, "No no, Maggie. I know how important the rules are to you. I think I will go and get my two outstanding signatures and pop into Dave's office while I am at it. You know I used to work for him, right?"

She implored him with her eyes, "All right, Craig, what do you want?" She was desperate, but there was a hint of anger in her voice and Craig found it annoying. She still thought she was better than him. No. No fucking way. He was going to get even with her. And he was going to get something out of it, too. Not just a couple of days off but a raise, maybe even a promotion. But he was going to put her in her place as well. Not in public. That would cash in his bargaining chip and he intended to hold on to that for as long as possible. Another drop of sweat slid down between those large, heavy breasts. He watched it go and he knew what he wanted.

"You know, Maggie, it's interesting. At first I thought maybe you had just wanted to cut corners. Maybe you just wanted to shave a little off the process, just like I did last night. I have to tell you that if you hadn't have pushed me this morning I would probably have ended up just letting it go." he chuckled softly to himself but she was not registering. She was only listening for the punch line so he decided to give it to her.

"But you did push it, didn't you, and now you are really squirming. Not just like someone who doesn't want to be called out, but like someone who knows that something far more serious will be discovered if a certain Mr. Wright takes a close look at those reports. And now you are going to pay for my silence. Certainly with a raise, probably with a promotion, but first and foremost with a fuck."

Now she was staggered. The raise and promotion she had clearly been half expecting. But had he just said fuck?

"You can't be serious."

"Maggie Reid, if you don't do everything and anything I say for the next half an hour I am going to take all the sign off sheets and their corresponding documents to Dave Wright and I am going to drop you right in the shit. End of career. End of reputation. Your paycheck: Gone. Your retirement: Gone. Your stock options: Gone."

She was sweating hard now. There was a long pause while Craig waited for his previous statement to hit home. It seemed like an age, but after a while of staring at him, stunned, she shifted a little in her seat, and without a word she nodded.

Now it was Craig's turn to look like a deer in the headlights. What to do now? This was it. Holy shit he was about to fuck his boss. His bitch boss.

He stood and went to the door, locking it and wedging a chair under it. When he turned back to her she was staring at him in disbelief but he pressed on. Walking over to her he towered over her. She sat there, fat in her chair. Late forties. About forty pounds overweight, and as she stared he unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock.

She did not move, she just sat there, transfixed by this stunning turn in her day and he reached out and grasped the back of her head and pulled it to him. His cock was hardening by the second and it stuck out, seven straight inches, the big purple head throbbing. Almost involuntarily her mouth opened and he pushed his cock in.

Holy Crap! He smiled broadly in quiet astonishment. His dick was in her mouth. He could feel her tongue sliding over it. Her eyes were open wide, staring at the base of his shaft as it sprang from his pants and he felt the need to do more. To show her how far he was going to go. Still fucking her face, the first four inches or so of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, he unbuckled his belt and undid the buttons, pushing his pants down.

He pulled his cock from her mouth and dropped his pants and underwear to his ankles, then lifted his cock with his right hand and pulled her head in with his left, saying, "Lick my balls, you fucking bitch."

She flinched at his cruel words and he saw a tear on her cheek but she went in hard, licking them, her fat cheeks rubbing against his thighs as she arched her head back to take his balls in her mouth.

As her tongue flicked over his perineum a thought flashed across his mind and he smiled. "Lie down, Maggie. Lie down on the floor."

As she clumsily clambered to the floor he kicked off his shoes, pants and underwear and stood over her in his socks and shirt, his feet either side of her head.

He was facing down her body, looking at her lying prone on the floor. She was wearing a black shirt. It was long, like most of her skirts. Fabulous. He was going to get under that skirt today. And he was going to fuck what he found under there. His gaze wandered back to her face between his feet, staring up at his balls from underneath him. She looked afraid. Did she know what he was going to have her do? Only one way to find out.

He lowered himself on to her, squatting on her face. He wasn't going to poop on her or anything like that but he was certainly going to have her rim him. Long and deep. Maggie the bitch CIO was going to lick his ass clean and then he was going to fuck her.

"Lick it, Maggie. Lick my asshole."

He plopped his ass on her face, looking between his legs to make sure his balls were on her chin and his hole was right on her face and then he felt her mouth and nose between his cheeks.

Like all bullies she was all talk in the end, and when she was beaten she was really beaten. Her fat tongue came out from her fat lips and pushed straight up his asshole, no fucking around.

He sighed. It felt wonderful. The soft wet tongue fucking his ass with abandon. he had never had this power. A couple of girlfriends had done this to him, always slightly begrudgingly. Once he had dated a real goer who had been willing to go to town, but not on demand, only when the mood grabbed her. This was different. He could get this woman to do whatever he wanted. It would have been cruel but for the fact that she was such an almighty bitch and had ruined so many peoples' lives for so long. No, Maggie Reid had it coming, and Craig was going to give it to her.

Craig rested one hand on Maggie's fat stomach and reached out with the other to pull up her skirt. The woman's legs instinctively pulled together as she tongue fucked his ass but no matter. It was a warm day and she wasn't wearing stockings. Her milky white legs were exposed under her skirt.

Thick thighs, not flabby so much as full looking, overstuffed. Firm and large. It was a lovely sight, and though Craig was loving having his ass licked he decided he wanted more and stood up.

Stepping over to the seat Maggie had sat in only moments before he sat his bare ass down in it, savoring the feeling of her saliva between his cheeks.

"Get up. I want to have a look at you."

She did, standing in front of him and glancing at the door as he reached over and lifted her skirt.

Sliding his chair back from the desk he pointed at the bare wooden surface saying, "Bend over the desk."

She glanced at the door again and then complied, bending away from him and resting her elbows on the desk with large ass presented to him. He reached down and took hold of the hem of her skirt again, this time lifting the whole thing up and over her waist and exposing beige silk drawers beneath. Fuck yeah. Leaving her skirt on her back above her waist Craig pulled her panties down in one swift movement, impatient now, leaving them bunched on the floor around her ankles. Oh my, he thought as he stared at her fat white ass.

He grabbed roughly at the orbs. This was awesome. He pulled them apart, staring at the pussy and asshole between. Her labia was swollen, her body preparing for the coming fucking in spite of her. She was hairy. Not excessively, but black hairs covered her mound where it hid between her hefty thighs and tiny wisps surrounded her asshole which was clearly clean but slightly brown with a pink, puckered center. It was a little sweaty from being squeezed by her fat cheeks. He brushed it with his thumb. It tightened, as if it was squirming away from him. The sight inflamed him. Fuck it, he said, and he buried his face between her cheeks and thrust his tongue up her sweaty ass.

He violently tongue fucked her ass, making her bottom wobble. Occasionally he dipped down and licked the entrance to her cunt. He could not quite reach her clit from this angle but he still slipped his tongue in her pussy too, savoring the contrasting flavors of her tight, tangy anus and her wet, meaty vagina.

Her anal sphincter was tight around his tongue and he fought the urge to thrust his thick cock up there. Compliant she may be, and considering how she had eaten his ass without complaint he could probably get away with it. But if she cried out in pain they would both be left with some explaining to do and he wanted to savor this.

He was loving licking her ass. It was sweaty and fabulous, her fat cheeks wobbling as he held them apart, violating his boss's shit hole with his tongue. But it was too much. He needed to fuck her and he needed to fuck her now, and if he was going to fuck his boss he wanted to see her face when he did it.

"Roll over on your back, now."

She did, standing to turn and rest her bum on the desk and then leaning back. She held onto his shoulders as she leant back and then lifted her legs in the air as her back fell to the table. He grabbed her ankles as they came up either side of him and spread them apart, staring down at her hairy cunt, a wet, pink gash gaping at its center and calling to him.

Oh fuck that looked good and some other time he knew he was going to spend hours eating that pussy properly, but for now he held on to her ankles and shifted his hips to position his cock at the entrance to her. He glanced at her face as he did this. Pure, unadulterated hate tinged with the aftermath of her surprise burned in her eyes. But smoldering there too was lust. She hated him for the fact that she was going to enjoy being fucked by him as much as the fact that she had lost all her power in an instant.

But her hatred only goaded him on. He smiled sardonically, locking eyes with hers and pushed his cock in.

Fuck yes. His cock thrust into her with meaty force and filled her cunt. She grunted as it filled her. A nice big cock right up her. Her eyes closed as he started to fuck her. Long deep strokes. He was staring at his cock as it disappeared in and out of her cunt, savoring the sight, but she was biting her lower lip, her face scrunched up as he pounded her.