Ian's turnaround at the company had been miraculous; his work rate, appearance, attitude, and demeanor were exemplary. His colleagues couldn't believe the change in him; luckily, none of them had ever stayed late to see how he was trained. Carol had boasted to her female colleagues how her hands-on training had brought about this amazing rebirth.
Even Ian would grudgingly admit to them it was all down to Carol; she had made him into the man he was today. Since Christmas, he had been late only twice and each time he had received an email from Carol to meet at five in her office. For her part in turning the worst employee into a star employee, Carol had been rewarded with her own office. She had made Ian a regular visitor for any minor offense.
On each occasion, Ian had been fucked hard over Carol's brand new desk or spanked over her knee and he had pathetically begged for more each time. He was unquestionably Carol's bitch boy and he admitted to himself that he now wanted to be. Now, whenever she gave him a stern look he grew hard; when she mocked him, he sprinted to the toilets for relief. His life really did now revolve around work.
When Ian was named employee of the month, he was shocked but genuinely quite proud as Carol had put his name forward. She smiled smugly at the boy she had helped create, satisfied as to what happens when a woman takes charge. The prize for winning was a ticket to sit in the company box at the football, Ian's last remaining sign of masculinity.
It was to be played on Wednesday night and he was to be there for 6:30, as there was to be a meal beforehand. Carol beckoned him into her office in the afternoon.
"So Ian gets to act all straight with the real men tonight, " she smirked. "Just you remember, you are representing this department. So don't you let us down!" and she slapped his bottom.
"I won't, I'll be on my best behavior, I promise." Ian bowed his head in submission.
"Good, cause I don't want any of that pathetic scallyboy shit or you'll be back over this desk like the sissyboy you are." She rose from her desk and opened the door for him to leave. "Oh, and say hi to Mike."
Ian stopped dead; his heart pounded in anticipation of Mike's presence.
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Ian got dressed up smart: sharp blue suit, white shirt, dark tie, and clean black shoes. When he arrived, he showed his ticket and was escorted to the lift to be taken up to the private boxes. Ian had only ever sat in the terraces at the match, so this was a brand new experience. He was then shown to the company box.
As he entered the plush carpeted wooden-walled room, his eyes met Mike's. Mike and the other two men in the room were dressed casually and joked on how smart Ian was. The other two men were businessmen Mike was wining and dining to seal a deal. Both men were older than Mike but similar in shape and size. Mike interrupted their conversation about gym workouts to introduce them as Carl and Brian.
Mike shook Ian's hand and squeezed it. "So glad you came, I really owe Carol for putting you forward."
Ian blushed, the usual effect Mike had on him. The door then opened and the waitress brought in the meals. The table sat in the center of the room with a large sofa facing out towards the window overlooking the pitch.
The meal was fine but Ian couldn't stop himself from glancing up at Mike, who always grinned back at him, knowing the effect it had. The waitress removed the empty plates and the men rose from the table to recline on the sofa to watch the game.
The three of them sprawled out over the seats, leaving no space for Ian, who stood before them uncomfortably. "What up, boy?" laughed Mike.
Ian fidgeted. "There's no room for me to sit."
"Oh, I'm afraid this is the men's seat, it's just for men." The three of them laughed.