Corporate Rivals- Part Five
My arrival at Simi Corp., predictably, caused a bit of a protest there which cost me two of Morgan Thaler's former water-carriers. During the first week, several of the long-timers were furtively clocking me amongst themselves as I moved about the office getting familiar with everything. I could feel their eyes and I could tell that there may need to be time set aside for "disciplinary" measures if they did not settle down soon.
In the meantime, I had already brought on Jim who was angling to become a Team Leader (one of two and there was one spot already taken), so I only needed to hire one more guy to fill out the team. Promisingly, one of the sales guys that stayed made an introduction between me and one of his mates in a related industry.
As a result of that introduction, a 30-year old by the name of Mark Riggs was my new hire. He was clearly a crack sales talent and showed me that he knew the process of acquiring new business during his several interviews with me and the rest of the staff.
Mark was tall and slim with big feet. Had to be at least size 13 dogs on this guy, I estimated. He was very tanned, clean-shaven and had longish blond hair that fell over dark brown eyes. He had "surfer" written all over him.
Mark desperately wanted to be a Team Leader. I was skittish about the prospect because he was so young. I explained to him that there was a reason most of the long-timers did not want the job and only the very ambitious or the very new thought the position desirable. A Team Leader is always in the line of fire and has no life if he wants to succeed. Mark was not taking "no" for an answer, however, and continued to beg for the opportunity.
Interestingly, Jim had an instant dislike for Mark. To Jim, he and Mark were polar opposites which meant that Mark was unworthy. Jim also thought I might be tempted by "Surf's Up" (as Jim had taken to calling him) to make him a Team Lead instead of Jim.
I was becoming weary from Mark's constant ministrations about the position when one sunny Wednesday afternoon, he walked into my office and asked if he could have a moment. Always available for my team, I said "Sure, Mark. What's up?"
"Tim, I know you have apprehension about making me a Team Leader. So, I need to know if we need to do it the 'Simi' way for me to get what I want."
"What exactly do you mean, Mark?", I responded, wondering if I had missed something.
"Look Tim, I know how this goes and I will top your cock for the position."
Really? He wants to top my cock for it? Are you kidding me? Is cockrubbing the new "Black"? Is The Rub becoming as ubiquitous as texting? Who exactly is promoting this type of recreation and where? Will I soon be madly humping the check-out guy in the grocery store right at his cash register to see if I have to pay for my groceries? For Pete's sake! How is this becoming so...common? Am I no longer special?
Nevertheless, I was intrigued and a plan formed in my rather lascivious mind.
I told Mark that he would have to take on Jim who also wanted the position. I awaited his reaction.
Said reaction was not what I expected.
Mark turned very red and said that he did not trust Jim. This left me wondering whether something had happened between the two of them already. What had made both of them feel so badly about the other? He went on to say that if they did have to go at it for the position, he would want me to referee it so he had the "best possible witness" as he put "that arrogant little prick down once and for all." I was taken aback by his venom with regards to Jim.
Mark left my office with a very determined look on his face and a gleam in his eye.
Glory be! I was to be the witness to a cockfight between two very determined (not to mention hot) men. 'Damn, I am good', I kept thinking.
I stopped praising myself about one hour later when Jim showed up at my door with an expression on his face that caused me to look down at my desk to pretend I did not see him. He had hinted in past discussions that he had a mean streak "a mile wide" (his words). But I had not experienced it until right then.
He launched, "So, you think Surf's Up is an actual contender for the Team Lead position, Tim? Are you fucking serious? If you can really look me in the face and tell me that he might be as qualified as I am for this position, I will consider it possible only because I trust your judgement better than anyone else that I know. Can you seriously tell me this?"
I could not. Cowardly, I know, but I could not seriously tell him that Mark was even in the same ballpark when compared to Jim. I began to feel guilty about my cowardliness and my follow-on motivations for stoking this fight. But I did not feel like backing down to Jim at that particular moment.
Jim read me like a book and could see everything in my face (there is a reason I do not play Poker...even in sunglasses...). I felt a sense of foreboding that I could not describe in any detail even if I had tried. Luckily, Jim spelled it out for me.
"If you fancy this surfer punk enough to subject me to an idiotic comparison, Tim, I hope you are prepared to accept 'Big Boy' responsibility for the consequences because I will destroy him. I mean destroy utterly and completely. He will not be able to work here any more when I am through with him. So, I hope you are ready to go through the recruitment process again. I will be merciless. In your heart of hearts, you know that I am serious, so really think about it, Tim. Do you really want this to happen?"
'My, my...Jim was getting a bit too big for his britches,' was all I could think. 'Destroy' is a big word when used in the context of another person.
"Jim, Mark is a smart kid. He should at least get the opportunity to interview for the position. You cannot be the only candidate for the position. How would that look?" Why was I pushing him so?
"Go to HR now, Tim. Right now. Start recruiting. Trust me. We need to do this on Friday night. I want a clear head when I start my new position as Team Leader on Monday." Jim's smouldering glare told me all I needed to know as he turned and walked down the hall.
I hoped that Mark and Jim would not run into each other in the office for the remainder of the week. The current situation was too volatile. Ironically enough, it was me that had made it so.
On Friday, we all arrived at my new little "Discipline Room" within a few minutes of each other. I found a corner inside the room while they both undressed themselves in opposite ones from each other. This was the first time I had seen Mark without clothing. Something in the back of my head made me wonder if this was the first time Mark and Jim were seeing each other without clothing...
Mark had a tall swimmer's body. He was smooth and had very sharply defined lats and very broad shoulders. He had been wearing box cut black briefs under jeans and a red tee and Adidas surfer sandals when he walked in. But now that he had been relieved of all fabric, I could see that he was packing at least a 9-inch uncut cock (given its length when soft, I estimated what it would be when hard) and regular-sized balls. His pubic area was shaved.
Jim had worn a white speedo (did he want to look less pale vis a vis the surfer?) under board shorts that showed his legs to good advantage and white Stan Smiths that I had never seem him wear before. He coupled that with a very tight wife beater. He looked quite hot and more than a little martial, in my opinion. Soon, however, his familiar (only to me I hoped) cock was uncovered and he stretched before the bout.
Mark interrupted Jim's stretching by attempting to intimidate him with talk of his big cock making Mark's cock feel so good that he would beg him for mercy.
Jim remained silent and wore a look of disdain on his face as they finally moved into the center of the room. They began to circle each other. Neither of them were hard. So, I could tell that this would be a grudge-type of match. These guys clearly did not like each other and neither of them relished from a sexual perspective the coming struggle against the other.
Mark moves in first and invites a test of strength. Jim accepts. This looks like a mismatch with Mark seeming to be as tall as a tree standing so close to Jim. As soon as their fingers are locked, Jim unexpectedly jumps up quite high while simultaneously twisting both his wrists left and right respectively as if turning on oven knobs. The surprise is complete and Mark has no choice but to get up onto his toes as Jim then relentlessly jumps again and yanks up with both hands. Jim then releases one hand and swings his opposite leg over Mark's arm and simply sits down on the floor. Mark goes down with him. He has no choice.
Incredibly, it is already looking bad for Mark.
Jim moves immediately into a body scissor on Mark combined with a two-handed left ankle twist. Mark bellows with pain. Jim then releases one hand from Mark's ankle and begins stroking Mark's cock to life. When Mark tries to break free, it is both hands on deck again for Jim as he twists the ankle until Mark stops struggling and starts bellowing in pain again. Once Mark becomes still again, Jim resumes the slow, deliberate cock stroke.
Jim's own member is at attention now. He is enjoying the apparent control he has over Mark.
After about 10 minutes, Jim stops the twist and stroke routine and positions Mark for a neck scissor. Mark seems to be completely unable to prevent Jim from exercising his will. Jim applies five full minutes of on and off neck scissor and then re-positions for the body scissor around the ribs and the ankle attack once more. He violently and periodically twists Mark's ankle and intermittently strokes that big surfer cock. For a cruel 20 minutes, Mark is worked over in this manner.
Jim then moves behind Mark to scissor him from the seated position while holding both arms behind his back. He then quickly moves into what looks like a rear naked choke. Just as it seems as if Mark is going 'lights out,' Jim allows his lovely long surfer torso to fall to the ground. As if on autopilot, Jim maneuvers the nearly dead weight of his opponent and slips into the body scissor and cock stroke combo again. There is no need for ankle twist this time. Mark is no longer struggling or doing much of anything.
Within a few minutes, Jim slides onto Mark chest to chest and starts to grind his cock on Mark's. I note that Mark seems beaten but is still hard. Jim is positioned on his knees and elbows with his head bent low and is obviously saying something into Mark's ear. I am not close enough to them to hear what is being said. The prone and long-suffering surfer dude is mumbling "Yes" in response to whatever it is that Jim is saying to him. Mark begins to moan and Jim stops The Rub to watch his opponent's cock twitching... so close...But instead of finishing Mark, he gets off of him.
Jim then moves into a head scissors with Marks' face right up against his cock and balls. Jim tells Mark to kiss his dick or he will crush his head. Mark obviously believes him and he complies. "Kiss my dick and suck my balls, Mark. That is all you are really good for."
After another five minutes or so of Mark humiliating himself at the base of Jim's cock, Jim positions himself atop Mark again. He again edges him cock-to-cock but, just before it looks as though Mark will explode, Jim rolls off of him and moves in for another head scissor. Incredibly, he does this two more times in succession.
After all of this, Mark is a quivering mess. His eyes are unfocused. He is gasping for breath and his whole torso is glowing red from the squeezings he has endured.
I am about 5 feet away and at a 45-degree angle from them. I can see the action and it is driving me crazy. But I am beginning to worry for Mark. If this goes on for much longer, I will have to put a stop to it. Jim has proven his point and has clearly vanquished his erstwhile rival.
I then watch as Jim lifts Mark's torso up off the ground and drops to his knees facing Mark. He positions himself to apply a a bear hug and then lets his weight crash down onto Mark. His arms between Mark's back and the floor and his hands now down gripping his victim's ass, Jim applies serious pressure to Mark's body. I can clearly see the veins standing out on his shoulders as he crushes Mark beneath him. Relentless, Jim grinds him out cock-to-cock all the while looking directly into my eyes while I am sitting Indian-style with my shorts unbuttoned, cock in hand and stroking myself.
Finally, poor Mark erupts with a groan and a shout. His load is huge but before he is even through spurting, Jim gets up off of him and comes toward me. He pulls my hand off my cock pushes me onto my back, pulls my shorts down and lays his cock on top of mine, the rest of his body following. I remember the last time he humped me and the power of his thrust is no less astonishing this time.
"That punk can't get me off, Tim. Only you can." The words are spoken in a rush of warm breath into my left ear.
He entwines his fingers in mine and breathes even more heavily into my ear. I shoot within a couple of minutes and only then does Jim let go of his own cum.
Our two thick streams conspired to soak my polo shirt.
Jim gets off of me and gives me his hand to help me up. I have forgotten that Mark is even there.
Tim brings me close into him and looks me in the eyes, "You and I need to meet again, Tim. You know it. We have unfinished business. So, when is it going to happen?" His voice seems uncharacteristically menacing.
"Soon, Jim. Very soon."