Performance Review

D. Musgrave

PERFORMANCE REVIEW BY D. MUSGRAVE Venus Press LLC

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The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. PERFORMANCE REVIEW Copyright © 2006 by D. Musgrave Cover Art © 2006 by Jonathan Fesmire All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America. For information, you can find us on the web at www.VenusPress.com

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Dedication:

A thank you to Jude Mason for pushing me to be the best author I can be. And to Michelle Houston for keeping the faith.

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~*~

Mark stared at a distant spot, miles beyond the computer screen. Even days later, fragments of the performance review continued to fill his mind. Had he been too eager to leave his last job? Had he been so blinded by his friendship with Bill that he couldn't see Bill and Lisa for what they really were? One thing he was very sure of; he'd done everything he could to make this current situation work. The owners of the company, Bill and Lisa, had given him a week to make his decision. They'd given him an ultimatum: commit himself to the company, or find a new job. His pulse pounded in his temples. Even after a week, Lisa’s grating, shrill voice still rang in his ears. How could he put up with her for another day, let alone weeks? He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, hoping to push the throbbing headache away. It didn’t work. What was it she'd said while they'd all been sitting around the conference table, her with that sneer, and Bill, leaning back in his chair smiling as if he'd just won the lottery? "We need a long-term commitment from you. We're thinking that twenty years seems reasonable." Reasonable—Reasonable for whom? He remembered his shock and anger at their gall, or was it their stupidity, or both? Whatever the name, or reason, he couldn't agree to their terms. Not to twenty years—and especially not if they weren't willing to put the agreement in writing. A two-year written contract was one thing, but twenty? Verbally? And no reciprocating commitment from them? Did they think he was that stupid? When Monday came around, they’d asked him what his decision was. He had lied, and told them yes, he would commit to them and give them the best he could. He hoped it would buy him a little more time to be selective in finding a new job. Enough time so he wouldn’t have to take the first job that came along. He'd spent most of last week calling his business contacts, and he knew that it would be just a matter of a few short days before he'd have another job offer. Because of the lie, he'd have to play nice. He was good at his job as General Manager of their machine shop, and he'd decided right after the meeting to show them that, he could run the company—to show them just what they were losing, but not tell them he was leaving. 5

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He shook his head and tried to focus on the job he was supposed to be quoting and scheduling. Turning, he looked over his shoulder and saw Bill sitting at his desk. Mark couldn't believe how much they'd misled him. Not once in the initial interviews had they mentioned any commitments beyond the normal two to five years that were customary. Even Bill, who'd always come across as a realistic, if not understanding guy, had surprised Mark with his sudden change in attitude. Once Lisa had turned the review negative, he'd jumped in and piled on. Mark gritted his teeth so hard his jaws ached. He felt trapped—again. He hadn't realized how much he'd hate working in an open office area, without even the modest privacy of cubicle walls, until he’d taken the job. What made it worse was his desk was positioned in such a way that his back was to the room, anyone could walk up behind him. He felt exposed. It was as if they didn't trust him to work alone and had to see what he was doing at any given moment. Apparently, twenty-five years in the business wasn't long enough to prove he knew the job, at least in their eyes. As bad as all that was, the most difficult thing he’d have to handle was Lisa’s constant arrogant, holier-than-thou attitude. She strutted around spouting bible verses like a smarmy televangelist, but when there was a problem, she was the first one to spew a tirade of cuss words that would make a trucker blush. The hypocrisy made Mark sick. Turning back to the paperwork on his desk, the same questions repeated themselves for the thousandth time: had he subconsciously denied the obvious signs that should have been red flags when it came to justifying his move to a new job? Had he wanted out of his old job that bad? Was this somehow his fault? He came to the same realization he always came to. He couldn't change what had happened. He had to learn from his mistake and move on. Pushing away from his desk, Mark decided he needed some air. The urge to lash out surged. He knew that if he opened his mouth, he wouldn't stop until he was out of a job before he had any hope of lining up another offer. He wandered out of the main office and entered the shop, hoping to find some peace in the dull roar of the machines. That didn't happen. It was lunchtime and all the equipment was idle. Mark sighed and wandered from machine to machine, pretending to check the status of the jobs in the shop. He didn't want to tip his hand by not appearing to be interested in the output of the shop, especially to Lisa. As he thumbed through a stack of papers, Mark heard a thump coming from the direction of the storage room on the mezzanine. He set the paperwork down and moved closer to the stairs. The thud repeated itself and he heard a muffled moan. He wasn't completely sure, but the voice sounded like Dylan's, the shop foreman. Concerned, Mark rushed up the steps, thinking Dylan was hurt. At the top, he stopped, frozen in place. Inside the tiny room was Dylan, but he wasn't hurt, and he wasn't alone. He was leaning back against a stack of boxes with his 6

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pants around his ankles. On her knees in front of him was Lisa with a fistful of the shop foreman's cock in her hand and a thin line of saliva connecting her lower lip to the head of his cock. He must have made some noise, because she looked up at Mark with a wide-eyed gasp. He saw several things in that brief moment—fear, shock, and unexpectedly, relief. That last facet was what shocked him the most. He stood in the doorway, staring at the woman who'd bragged incessantly about teaching Sunday school. Now, she was simply a woman who held a drool-covered cock in her fist, a cock that didn't belong to her husband. Most surprising, she didn't seem mortified at him catching her. Dumbfounded, Mark didn't know what to do. Finally, he turned around and walked down the stairs. He felt as if he were in a trance. The last thing on Earth he'd expected to see was Lisa giving the shop foreman a blowjob. Mark went back to the office and plopped down in his chair, without looking at Bill. There was no way he could possibly concentrate on work, not after what he'd just seen. A few moments later, Lisa burst into the room. She was breathless and stood in the doorway darting glances from Bill to Mark and back to Bill. Mark knew she was thinking he'd told Bill, but for some reason, the though hadn’t crossed his mind. She glared at Mark with her usual spiteful arrogance and walked across the room toward Bill. She whispered in his ear and, as if he were a puppy that had been given a command and promised a treat, Bill got up from his desk and grabbed his coat. "I'm going to get some lunch. You want something, Mark?" Mark shook his head. "No thanks." "Okay, I'll be back in about an hour." Bill kissed Lisa on the mouth and left. Mark bit back a smile. If Bill only knew that a few moments earlier she'd had her mouth full of Dylan's cock, he doubted Bill would have been quite so eager for a kiss. Mark turned towards the computer and pretended to go back to work. In the monitor's reflection, he saw her moving up behind him, but he didn't look back. He hoped she'd just go away. She walked up and turning, perched her bottom on the corner of the desk. She looked across the room and said, "I guess we need to talk, huh?" Mark shrugged. "I don't know why?" "You didn't see anything?" Still looking at the monitor, Mark shrugged. She was silent for a few seconds. Long enough for Mark to become curious and look up at her. She had a distant look, as if she was thinking. She shook her head and said, "I think you should know what happened." Mark wanted to tell her he didn't care, but couldn't find the words. "I was just helping Dylan work on his loyalty to the company. He's been having second thoughts about his commitment to us." 7

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Mark wondered if that was the same type of incentive they’d use to convince him to commit to their company. Still gazing off into the distance, she continued, "In the last few days, you've shown your dedication to us and I think it's time I showed you how we repay our loyal employees." Mark looked up at her and asked, "What does that mean?" "Come back to my office, so we can talk in private." He followed her across the office and noticed that she swung her hips in an exaggerated sway. Lisa stood by the door and when he entered her office, she pushed it closed and locked it. She walked past him without a word and sat in her high-backed leather chair. Not knowing what else to do, Mark sat in the chair in front of her desk. She looked at him and asked, "What do you think would be a fair reward for your efforts?" "I don't know. What do you normally give your employees?" Lisa smiled and said, "It depends on their performance. Sometimes we give them a raise. Sometimes I give them a special reward." Mark had a feeling he knew what the special reward was, and despite himself he felt his cock stir. From the first interview, he'd noticed that Lisa was attractive and had a great figure. Like any man, he'd wondered how she looked naked. Lisa spoke again, "I think you might deserve both. What do you think?" Mark shrugged. He didn't see why he needed to comment, she was the one who needed to get out of the hole she'd dug for herself. She smiled again and got to her feet. Walking around to the front of her desk, she slowly undid the buttons on her pink, long-sleeved blouse and revealed the pink lace bra covering her perky breasts. Lisa pulled the shirttails out of her jeans and dropped it to the floor. Mark shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The thick length of his erection was being strangled by the waistband of his underwear. He couldn't take his eyes off her body as she continued to strip for him. Lisa glanced down at his lap and noticed his obvious reaction to her show. She smiled wickedly and made even more of a show at undressing. She swayed her hips seductively and slowed the pace of her stripping. It seemed to Mark that she was too good at stripping; and he wondered if perhaps she'd done it professionally at some point. She had the body and moves for it. Her legs were lean and her stomach was washboard flat, the intense look in her eyes drew him in and made him feel as if she was dancing to entice him. That would help to explain why she made such a point of professing her virtue—guilt for her wicked past.

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Her striptease continued, until she stood in front of him, wearing just her bra and panties. As good as she looked in tight-fitting jeans, she looked even better nearly naked. She had a taut little body with an apple-shaped ass—Mark's weakness. Her husky voice broke his reverie. "You want to see more?" He nodded—it was all he could do. She grinned and turned her back to him. She raised her hands to her chest and suddenly her bra slid to the floor. Spinning around on her heels, she faced him with the palms of her hands covering her breasts. She rocked her hips in time to some tune Mark couldn't hear. Suddenly, she lowered her hands to the underside of her breasts. Lisa cupped her tits and thumbed the already hard, dark nipples into even harder points. He didn't dare blink. He didn't want to miss a thing. She threw her head back and sighed as she pinched the hard buds. She brought her head forward and her curly brown hair fell over her face, covering her eyes. She whispered, "More?" This time Mark found his voice. "Yes. More." With a spin, she turned her back to him again and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. Slowly, she pushed them down over her hips. As the thin strip of cotton pulled out of her crack, she bent forward, revealing the dark, wet spot where the material had pressed against her pussy. She was wet and Mark wondered if it was just from the striptease, or from the earlier blowjob, or from getting caught. He decided to let it go, it didn't matter why. She was wet and that was all that was important. He watched without blinking, as she stepped out of the panties and reached back to pull her ass cheeks apart. The dark bud he'd expected to see was actually pink and slightly gaped open. For a moment, he stared at her obviously hungry ass, but pushed any thoughts of taking her out of his mind. Lisa looked back at him through her spread legs and said. "See something you like?" Mark stopped the nod that threatened to encourage her. He shrugged. "Maybe." He looked from her face to her exposed sex and back. He had to admit she was one sexy lady, even if she was a ball-busting hypocrite. Still, her ease and skill at stripping and exposing herself to someone other than Bill was just another testament to her histrionics. Those thoughts gave Mark enough time to form a plan to regain some of his dignity, and perhaps put her in her place. She straightened and turned around. Sitting on the top of her desk, she brought her feet up and spread her legs wide. Her pussy lips flowered open and the wetness glistened. "I can tell you want me." She looked down at his crotch. "Every guy we hire does, eventually." 9

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Mark looked through her and fought the urge to give her what she wanted. Had she ever been rejected? Despite her obvious physical beauty, her conceit turned him off, but he decided to play his disgust close to his vest. He'd wait to see what she had to offer. Lisa trailed a well-manicured finger along her inner thigh and teased it around her open and wanton sex. She avoided direct contact with her labia and clit. It was obvious that she was trying to entice him. He looked up from her pussy and saw her half-lidded gaze. Though her eyes were glazed and barely open, he could tell she wasn't faking her sexual hunger. It was just the sign he'd hoped he'd see. Mark pushed himself up from the chair and stood in front of her. He knew she wanted him to drop his pants and sink his hard cock into her wet, inviting pussy, but he had other plans. He sidestepped around her desk and settled himself into her leather chair. As he expected, she followed him and turned to crawl up onto his lap. Before she could settle down on his thighs, Mark grabbed her arm and spun her around. He yanked her across his knees so quickly that she had no time to resist or try to escape his grasp. His move was well-practiced and he had her naked body draped across his lap in a flash. He leaned forward and pressed her down against his thighs with his chest, pinning her left arm to her side. Not giving her a moment to fight back, he twisted her other arm up between her shoulders for leverage as he held her down. He waited for the wild flailing that he knew was coming. As if on cue, she kicked and squirmed, trying to break free. Her long, white legs flashed as she kicked and flailed; her body pressed against his, his erection near to drilling a hole through his jeans and into her. He pushed her arm up behind her back, as he had his wife, those first few times he'd punished her. Fortunately, he'd learned how to press down on her back just enough to keep her from gaining a full breath and thus stopped her from screaming. Her vain attempts to get free only made it easier for him to push the air out of her lungs. She opened her mouth to yell, but only managed a feeble squeak. He waited patiently, knowing she'd realize the futility of her struggle soon enough. Finally, she stopped flailing, and turned her head to look up at him. Her eyes were wide with fear and silent pleading. She looked scared with a hint of excitement— just what he'd hoped to see. He smiled down at her and asked, "Are you going to be good?" She nodded quickly. Mark leaned back, and she gulped air in. He didn't fully trust her, so he was ready to reapply the pressure if needed. When she sagged against his thighs, he knew he had her. 10

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Reaching for her desk organizer, he grabbed her foot-long metal ruler. He gripped it tightly and swung down in an arc, striking the tender, exposed flesh of her upturned ass. The metal smacked loudly against her skin, but he knew it sounded worse than it felt. Her reaction was immediate and expected. She yelped and fought against him, trying to roll off his lap. Mark was ready and leaned forward again, pinning her tightly to his thighs. When she settled, he spoke evenly, "I thought you said you'd be good." He leaned back and let her have another breath. "B-but you hit me. You know you're not going to get away with that." "I'm not?" He paused just long enough for her to begin a reply before going on. "And who are you going to tell? Your Sunday school class? Your kids? Bill?" He punctuated each sentence with a swat of the ruler, each one crossing the thin red welt that marked the previous strikes. She cried out and fought again, but he held her fast. While she struggled to gain her freedom, he swung the metal ruler, marking her perfectly presented ass with red lines. With each stroke of the ruler, she grunted and squirmed. Mark kept the pressure on her arm and back, but allowed her just enough slack to breath and still not wriggle away. He pulled her closer to his stomach so that with each flinch, Lisa would rub against his hard bulge. He played Lisa as if she were experienced. With each swat, he aimed for a slightly different angle, painting her ass with stripes of brilliant red. When he heard her sob, he hesitated for a moment, giving her a chance to catch her breath. "And just what are you going to tell all these people anyway? That you tried to seduce me?" He paused just long enough to bite back the chuckle that threatened to escape. "I'd love to hear you explain how you got into this position—naked and across my knees." He struck again, harder than before and right on the reddest part of her ass. She jerked, cried out, and sagged against his lap. She stopped struggling. He could read it in her actions; she was defeated and knew it. "Now, are you going to be good?" She looked up at him, red faced, her eyes wet with tears. She nodded and rasped, "Yes." "Yes, what?" "Yes...Sir?" Mark nodded, "Close enough." He wondered if she had any idea of the kind of trouble she was in and how much punishment she deserved. She looked away and seemed to relax even more. Mark thought she was coming to terms with her predicament too quickly and swung the ruler again. She jumped and 11

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cried out, but didn't struggle against him. He reared back and struck again as hard as he could. This time, Lisa only grunted and wriggled against his thighs. He wanted her to hate the spanking, not enjoy it. She was supposed to be learning a lesson and if she liked the spanking, he figured she'd not learn anything. He let her arm go and trailed his free hand down her back. "I'm trusting you to be good. Don't make me regret it." "Yes, Sir." Mark inched his fingers along her cleft and teased her with the lightest of touches. He wanted to tell her how good she looked, but he couldn't risk losing his advantage over her. She ground her hips in tiny circles, trying to capture his fingers. He pulled his hand away and brought the metal ruler down smartly across her backside. She grunted and pushed her pubic mound against his lap. He thought of having her count out the swats, but he had a better idea. "Lisa, you’re going to confess all your sins while I discipline you." She nodded, which brought another swat from Mark. "Yes, Sir,” she answered with a shuddering gasp. "Better. With each stroke, you are to confess something. I'll stop when I think you've truthfully finished." He waited long enough for his words to settle in her mind. "To make this clearer, I want you to tell me why you should be punished." Lisa looked back and from the flashing in her eyes, it appeared that she was about to argue, but she stopped herself and answered in a small voice. "Because I was caught with Dylan?" He brought the ruler down again on her backside and nodded slowly. "That's just one reason. You know it's not nearly enough. Try harder." She exhaled loudly. "Because I tried to seduce you?" "No." Mark swatted her three times, hard. Each stroke caused her body to rock back and forth, rubbing deliciously against his hard cock. With the last stroke, he pressed the flat of the ruler against her red flesh and growled, "You're not trying hard enough. For each wrong answer, you're going to get an additional swat added to the growing list of sins." Lisa groaned and wriggled. She rubbed her thighs together and Mark could smell her excitement. She was hot and ready, but he wanted to play her out—it was what he needed—what she deserved. "Try again," he said and swatted her ass. "Because—" "No." He smacked her ass again with the ruler. "Say, I deserve to be punished because...." "I deserve to be punished because, I'm...I'm a bitch." He struck again. "Better. Keep going." 12

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"I deserve to be punished because, I treated you wrong." Mark swung harder. The slap of the metal on her flesh echoed off the walls of the tiny room. "What else? There's more and you know it." "I deserve to be punished because, I'm a hypocrite." "True. Keep going. You're not done." He directed his aim to finish the crosshatched pattern on her ass. His cock throbbed painfully. It had been months since he and his wife had played this game. He was going to have to right that wrong very soon. "I deserve to be punished because, I'm a bad girl." He shook his head. He swatted her faster and harder, frustration warmed his face, but he managed to keep his anger in check. She was either being stubborn or didn't know the truth about herself. He decided she might be enjoying this more than he thought she would. Dropping the ruler on the floor, he brought his open palm down on the bright red lines marking her ass. The slap of his hand against her flesh felt good and comforting. The warmth spread through his palm and he reveled in the tingle. He knew her ass tingled too. Lisa's only response was a grunt followed by more grinding of her mound against his thighs. The scent of her pussy became stronger, and Mark worked his other hand between her thighs. Not only was she wet she was hot. She was enjoying the punishment too much. He had to make sure that she was in more pain than pleasure or he'd lose control of the situation, and her. He slapped her ass again. "You're not done." She threw her head back and rasped, "I deserve to be punished, because I'm wicked." Again, his hand rained down on her reddening flesh. Her body shook and he feared that she was close to coming. He aimed his spanks on the reddest part of her ass. She threw her head back and screamed, but had stopped wriggling her thighs together. For a brief moment, Mark was worried that someone would hear her, but he remembered that everyone had gone to lunch. Only Lisa and he were in the building. He spanked her again, pulling another scream from her. Before she had a chance to take in another breath, he smacked her hot flesh. She shook her head so hard, her hair flew around her head. Mark stopped spanking her, but only long enough for her to catch her breath so she could speak. When she stopped panting, he said, "Go on." Then he struck her ass again. "Ugh. I deserve to be punished because I...I—" "You're what?" he asked as he squeezed her hot, tender flesh tight. She hissed and threw her head back. "Say it," Mark squeezed her ass hard and removed his hand. He raised his arm above his head, ready to bring his palm down again. 13

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"I deserve to be punished because…I'm a slut." Her head fell forward and she sobbed. Mark smiled and brought his hand down with a loud smack. "You're a what?" He spanked her once more. "Say it again." "I'm a slut. I deserve to be punished because I'm a slut." She cried out and shook as sobs racked her body. He knew the sobs were from more than the pain of her punishment. They were also from being forced to admit something about herself that she had tried to keep hidden. He brought his hand down on her backside with all his might. Her legs tensed and she shook. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream as he continued to spank her. Her wetness flowed from her pussy onto his lap and quickly soaked through his pants. Mark didn't hold back, he spanked her mercilessly and laughed at her as she cried and pleaded for him to stop. He wrapped his free arm around her thighs and held them so she couldn't rub her legs together. He wouldn't allow her to come, no matter how much he'd like to have that power over her. Her pleasure hadn't been earned. Mark's cock throbbed painfully against her ribs as she rocked back and forth with the blows of her spanking. He longed to take it out and stroke away his tension. Somehow, he managed to summon his willpower and pushed that desire back. His arm ached and his hand burned painfully. He continued to spank her until his arm was useless. Holding her to his legs, he ground his hips and dry humped her side. Slowly, her breathing became steady and her sobs faded. Mark smiled, and brought his hand down one last time. Trailing his fingertips on her ass, he traced the outline of the red marks. "Now was that so bad?" He looked down at the side of her face. It was flushed red and streaked wet with tears. Not only had she been caught sucking Dylan's cock, she admitted to being a slut. If she was lucky, she'd learned her lesson. She shook her head. He raised his hand up a few inches and smacked her fire-red cheeks. "I didn't hear you." She yelped and answered, "No, Sir" "Good. You're a fast study." He swatted her ass again. "Thank you, Sir," she grunted. "You want more?" he asked, knowing her answer. "No, Sir. Please, no more." "You want to come?" She didn't answer: she just lowered her head. He spanked her again and repeated the question. 14

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“Yes." Her voice was soft and he barely heard it. He jerked his hand back, and she said, "Yes, Sir. I want to come." He spanked her anyway. He nodded and smiled. It was a tempting thought, but he had other plans. Suddenly, he stood, rolling her off his lap and spilling her onto the floor. She landed on her backside and winced. He chuckled as he stood over her and let her look up at the bulge that pushed out the front of his pants. When her eyes locked on his considerable bulk, he turned and walked to the door. Unlocking it, he glanced back over his shoulder. She stared up at him in surprise, "Where are you going? I thought—" "You thought what? That I'd want to have sex with a slut? Hardly." "But—" "But nothing. You ruined any chance of that when you decided to change our original agreement. I wanted to teach you one lesson before I left—it appears that I may have done just that." She stared at him. Her mouth moved but no words came out. He held the doorknob and said, "Oh, and you can mail me the severance check to my home address." He paused only long enough for her to begin to respond then cut her off, "I think twenty weeks is reasonable." He turned the knob and launched one last volley at her. "One last thing. You probably should let Bill know why I deserve the severance package." Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. Mark walked through the opened door. He left her in the office, and grabbed his briefcase. He'd already cleaned out his desk the previous Friday. All he had to get was his Palm Pilot and he was free to go. As he walked to the front door, he passed Bill on the way in. "Bill, Lisa's in her office and she has some important things to tell you. I've cleaned out my desk. I won't be back." He shook Bill's hand and walked away. "Thanks for everything." He didn't wait for Bill to respond. There was nothing left to say.

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About the Author

D. Musgrave grew up being told more often than not that daydreaming was a waste of time. What a crock that turned out to be. Those wild, fanciful dreams were to one day become the fodder for the erotic tales that now flow onto the pages for D.'s stories. If anyone is interested in sampling those daydreams that became stories, please visit D.'s website – www.dmusgrave.com Coming soon from D. Musgrave and Venus Press… Jaded Dick

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