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Chapter 6 by I.am.all I.am.all

What do you do next?

Sit in the boss' chair and pour coffee on your crotch

You take his coffee cup and look inside it. The lid had come off of it, but there was still a wee bit left inside. You walk around your boss' office, behind his desk. Turning his big, overpriced leather chair around, you sit down.

"Oi, you've had your fun and games but now you're asking for a sacking!" Your boss gritted his teeth menacingly.

"Dale?"

"It's Mr Beaumont to you."

"No, I call you Dale, you call me sir, remember? Anyways, I think you should return the favour of drying me off from your spilt drink."

"You didn't even get any-"

He was cut off by the slow splattering of coffee onto clothing. The two of you stared at each other as you poured the remaining beverage onto the front of your pants. You'll probably regret this when you had to go home but that's a problem for later. As the last of the coffee hit your soaked crotch, you tossed the cup away and beckoned your boss forward.

"I don't know what you think-"

"I think that you should dry my wet area. It's only fair."

"You're delud- delu-"

Mr Beaumont grabbed his head, obviously battling your commands. He let out a frustrated yell before walking towards you. His face still showed resentment and rage towards you, but his actions were calm, almost timid. His eyes, however, were now completely fearful. He retrieved his shirt, the makeshift towel, and bent over to begin patting your crotch.

"It might be easier if you kneel." You suggested, "Go on, get on your knees right between my legs."

The older man followed your words, nearly no hesitation. He resumed patting, focused on his current task and refusing to look up at you. However, as the coffee settled into the fabric, the tenting in your pants since Mr Beaumont removed his shirt was now completely obvious. Your boss continued patting you down, avoiding the tent at any cost.

"Dale, I think the coffee has seeped right through to the skin. You should remove my pants and briefs so you can properly dry me. Ha, while you're at it, take off my shirt. Use that instead of your awful, damp cloth."

Me Beaumont tensed for a moment. He had his eyes shut, trying to resist your words. When he relaxed, he reached forward, going to loosen your tie.

"Did I say the tie?" You ask.

He looks up at you, a mixture of rage and resignation. He moved his hands and begun unbuttoning your shirt. As he unbuttoned your shirt, your chest, decorated with a splattering of hair, appeared. Your small nipples followed as your shirt hung looser and looser. When your final buttons were undone, your belly button could be seen, with a treasure trail snaking it's way down towards your pants. You leant forward, allowing your boss to remove your shirt from your body.

"Now the pants, and while you're at it, take my shoes and socks off, I'll make it easy for you."

What do you do next?

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