The corruption of an HR Exec, Carol becomes a Corporate Slut - Part I

My name is Carol, 5’5â€, chubby and self-conscious of my DD cup breasts starting a new school, while all the cliques and groups were already formed. Like anyone, especially starting a new school, I wanted to be accepted.

My name is Carol, and I found it acceptable, as the boys loved my breasts. For a short while, I had a reputation as a slut, not willingly. I learned that I was a conquest, where the boys would brag about getting their cocks between my breasts. I sucked a lot of cocks, and many would come on my DD chest. Then they would notch their belt and brag to their friends.

Somehow, I kept my virginity and begged my parents to transfer me to the local Catholic High School. I became focused on my studies, becoming more religious and overall, a boring person. I dressed to hide my DD breasts, as best as I could.

I met my future husband at a religious gathering. My husband was a geek, highly intelligent and eventually became a success at business. I didn’t miss the sexual attention, not initially. I studied ethics and focused on a career in Human Resources and after college I was hired by a product manufacturer. I loved that the company made products that were in the consumer market, and the geek in me liked the production lines.

My first role was as an Assistant Manager, assigned to one of our major products. There were four managers, and each had an assistant. I formed a bond with our product, and the blue-collar teams that worked on the production lines, some in distant cities. I felt they were my children, and it was my job to see them protected and thriving.

In that time, I lost a lot of weight, except for my chest. I felt increased confidence with weight loss and always dressed as proper / conservative, hiding my chest, which barely shrunk. I found it unacceptable to be treated as a big chested slut, which I seemed to foster in high school. Even as an assistant manager, I commanded some degree of respect. I’m sure the men talked, boys will be boys, but when I entered the room, it was all business.

Of all the assistant managers, I was ranked the highest in productivity and creating strong teams. The other assistants, all similar in age and education, were men and I had to work twice as hard to stay on top.

When a manager’s position opened up, I was confident that it had my name on the door. The position was Manager, Operations Personnel. It was the first step on the corporate ladder in Human Resources. It came with a higher salary, a small stock plan and two employees, and a real office.

I asked my manager if I could go for it, and he was totally in favor, and said with my record, I would normally be automatic, but this was still a man’s environment, decades before #me-too.

I knew this, especially at corporate gatherings, when the men would go to strip-clubs, drink scotch and smoke cigars. They would say, you can come along, and once I did. It hardened me, seeing them men treat the dancers like…. Sluts. I was more determined to make a difference in human resources, if not for this company, some other.

I was competing for the role of two other assistant managers. All my numbers were higher, what I lacked was the camaraderie they formed over cigars and strip clubs. If I didn't get the role, I planned to update and send out my resume.

The interviews went well, all professional, and my manager assured me that I was doing well. However, he was still guarded and could not guarantee the role would be mine.

The announcement was going to be in a few days, when I got a call to come to the executive suite cafeteria, to meet with the Roger Smith, Executive VP, overseeing HR and other key areas of the company.

I briefly met him one time, at a conference, otherwise, the men in the executive suite were gods, they breathed rarified air. Any of us low level people invited to the “Suite†came back as if they went a few rounds with a prize-fighter.

And no one ever saw the Executive Cafeteria; there were rumors that it was a five-star restaurant. I had been invited to come to the Suite and meet one of the gods in the cafeteria. Why? This position was barely a footnote on the org chart.

That morning, I dressed in my best business suit and nervously went into the elevator. I had to ask one of the secretaries where the cafeteria was. She gave me a look like I was an alien, but when I said Mr. Smith requested my presence, she pointed down the hall.

The carpets were plush, the walls filled with art. I walked fast, as I did not want to bump into one of the gods, but could not avoid looking into their hallowed office. If I got this new role, my office would be no bigger than a cubicle, but it looked like an arena.

I was at the cafeteria door, which required a keycard to enter, but there was a visitor intercom. “I’m Carol, here to see Mr. Smith. “

The door buzzed and I walked in and it was impressive but didn’t look like a five star restaurant A tall waiter guided me to a private room along the side and offered me wine. Wine? It was 5PM, but they had wine here?

I explained that I had to go back to work, but he said, “Mr. Smith insisted, and does not like to drink alone. Red or White, ma’am.â€

The waiter came back with a fancy looking bottle of white wine and opened it in my presence. I asked where it was from and then asked, how much does that go in a liquor store. It was French, and specially imported, and he added, “I doubt you could afford it, but do enjoy, it’s Mr. Smith’s favorite.

Why was I here? For a mere manager’s role?

I sipped the wine and it was amazingly good. Mr. Smith, the god who was a close confidante of the President strode in, confident and friendly, no ties or jacket, totally in his element.

He poured himself some wine and tried to make small talk, but I was too nervous.
He said, “Relax. it’s after hours now, enjoy the wine and please, call me Roger.â€

I had a folder in front of me, which I spent most of the night preparing with statistics, references and power point slides. I thought I might need this to secure the position.
He took the folder, opened it, and smiled.

He said, “Impressive young lady, and yes, I want to talk with you about this role and the future.â€

He set the folder aside and said, “I’ve been watching you and wanted to see if you’re “part of the team.â€

An alarm went off in my head. “A team player†was often code for a playing along sexually. Roger got up, sipping some wine and then stepped behind me, and began to gently massage my shoulders. The alarms were getting louder in my head, “Red Alert. Danger.â€

He said, “Carol, you seem tense. Relax, I am just giving a friend a massage.â€

I had to admit, the massage felt good, if this was a different scene and place.
I felt I had to say something, “Sir, I deserve this position, do you think I will get it?â€

He laughed, “Carol, please, Roger and right to the point. Young lady, you will do well up here in the ‘suite’.†He added, “It all depends on the decisions you make today.â€

I sensed what the decisions were that he was seeking. I recalled when I worked on two sexual harassment cases, he approved the firing of a long times supervisor and a large financial payout to the victims. This was about to surpass these cases, but what proof did I have. The victims had notes passed to them, and witnesses.

He was blunt, “If you ultimately don’t get the role, you may need to look elsewhere.â€

He added, “If you get this position, the men who you are competing for will not be happy, but they will get good jobs elsewhere, I will see to it.â€

He continued, “I will be your guardian angel and can “grease the skids’ for future opportunities and financial rewards.â€

Finally, he added, “Do the math quickly, I need an answer when I come back, in a few minutes, I have to take a quick call.â€

I was in turmoil, my own ethics and ideals were in jeopardy, if I made the deal that I suspected he was seeking. Or I can remain on the high road, and turn it down, and find employment elsewhere. I knew this promotion would be important for my career objectives. I rationalized the decision, knowing I could get valuable experience, and I could leave on my terms, with a better job down the road.

Tears ran down my face, messing my makeup. Before I could fix my make-up, Roger came back into the room, and placed two memos upside-down in front of me on the table. He ignored my smeared make-up and tears,

Then, once again, he began to gently massage my shoulders and then moved his hands down my arms. Slowly, patiently. Then he said, “Turn the memos over and tell me which one I will be announcing tonight.

I turned the pages over, as his hands started to feel the top of my breasts through my blouse.

One was an announcement saying the Mike, one of the other assistant manager got the job. The memo had another paragraph saying, “Congratulation to Jonathan, for his new role….â€

Oh my god, Jonathan was getting my job, in a consolidation. That means, I am gone.

The other memo was written the same, congratulating me. The memo went on to say that Jonathan and Mike have accepted new roles. They were the ones who would leave the organization, Roger signature was on both documents.

It was decision time, “Which one of these will be ripped up?â€

I looked up at Roger. He did not appear as a god, but merely a man, a powerful man. I picked up one of the memos and paused. Then tore up Mike’s announcement.

It wasn’t a joyous occasion, and I felt defeated. I felt a deep submission come over me, that I last felt with the boys in school. The word, “slut†came to mind.

He stopped and poured more wine, and I knew I was drunk. The wine may have made the decision easier, but I calculated the pluses and minus and made the decision. He raised his glass and instinctively I raised mine. He smiled and said, “You made the right call, welcome to the team.â€

He said, “Let me get this to my secretary for immediate release and let the managers know what they must do next.â€

He added, “Please, undress and wait for my return. I will enjoy this, and I think, you will too.â€

As I undressed, neatly putting my clothes on a chair, I realized, my nipples were hard and my pussy was wet. Was I excited? Maybe I was fooling myself, with my ideals and sense of ethics. I am now Roger’s slut, and yet, I had a wonderful new position and more money, and a future.

Roger came back into the room, this time flipped the lock. He looked at my naked body and smile, saying, “I didn’t know you had such large, amazing breasts, so nice.â€

He moved in and fondled my breasts and tweaking my nipples, and I felt my pussy getting wetter. He kissed my breasts, and then moved slowly down, until his mouth was against my pussy. Using his finger and tongue, he made me moan with pleasure, never experienced. No one has performed cunnigilus, and Roger seemed eager and skilled. He took his time, making my whole-body quiver. I forgot where I was, my ideals and sadly, my husband. I was Roger’s conquest, his prey. His slut. And I wanted him.

To confirm my new role, as Roger’s slut, I asked, “Sir, may I suck your cock?â€

He said, “Yes, please, I would appreciate it.â€

I removed his slack and knelt. He was a decent size, large, circumcised cock head and after a few strokes, hard. I found myself eagerly sucking and licking his shaft. I thought of all the boys I sucked when I was a high school slut and knew Roger might enjoy coming between my large breasts. I found that I could still take cock deep without gagging. My husband’s cock was smaller and easier to take deep. Rogers was thicker and longer.

Roger’s hands were holding my head, controlling my motion. He said, “My goodness, you know what you are doing, don’t you?â€

He added, “Little Miss Corporate is a slut. Damn, and huge breasts. You’re my slut now, right?â€
I tried to nod as he pushed his large cock deeper. This time I gagged a little and the recovered.

When I tasted his sweet precum, I struggled a little but manage to get him to withdraw his cock, just moments before his climax. He looked disappointed, wanting to feel his hot come in my mouth. But when I placed his cock between my breast, he moaned and squeezed them together around his shaft.

His body stiffened, and he came on my breasts, pulsating between my generous pillows. His come was hot and felt good on my breasts. When I was a high school slut, sometimes three or four boys would come on my chest, and I would be covered in their seed.

I moved Roger’s cock back into my mouth and tasted the last of his come, as his cock slightly softened. Then, scooped his come off my chest and sucked it off my fingers.

This caused Roger’s cock to begin to harden. I was lost in lust, as I used my hands and mouth to get him hard again. I tried to keep his cock in my mouth, but he had other plans. I didn’t count on being fucked, which was naïve of me.

I have been trying to get pregnant, and we have been having trouble. I used a thermometer to try to determine when I am optimally ovulating. The past few days, I have been and my husband has plenty of his seed in me. When I ovulate, I am especially horny.

And now, Roger has me face and chest down on the table and positioning himself to fuck me. He held my head down, my face pressing into my blouse. I was not uncomfortable, but I could not talk, and I wanted to make sure Roger was using protection. I could not tell, as he plunged into me. My second fucking today, as my husband made love to me this morning.

Roger was pumping me hard, and I sensed he was not coming easily. I reached behind and felt his balls. This seemed to help and I moaned, I was having a strong orgasm. Then his body stiffened and I felt him climax.

My hand was still holding his balls, and as he finished, I felt his shaft. And realized, he was not wearing a condom. He just inseminated me, with my husband’s come.

I was Roger’s willing slut, and my gawd, he might get me pregnant. And I did not care, which surprised me.