The Morning Light

Chapter 2 - June demands that Timmy expand his submission.

Chapter 2 - June demands that Timmy expand his submission.Timmy pulled the shift lever down sharply, spun the tach in a scream, and braked into the on-rushing curve. He was free for the moment. Free to use the sports mode in Madame’s Q60 Infiniti as he powered down the winding narrow road. He was eager to strip the pervasive sense of degrading weakness that his wife had created as she prepped him for his upcoming meeting with Miriam. She hadn’t had much to say, but what she did say was forceful, to the point, and clear.

He was to listen carefully to Miriam’s plans for the company. He was to use his experience to probe for any flaws or danger signs, and then to tell Miriam, “It’s up to you. You’re the CEO. I’m just the President. You make the operational decisions. Not me.” Then he was to do his thing for the employees; walk around like the famous big shot he was, founder of the company, holder of twenty-seven key patents. The young guys in the five competing code design teams worshiped him. He was their inspiration and mentor. He seemed to have everything they thought they wanted. The glamorous, beautiful sexy blond wife, the fancy sports car, the house on the top of the hill, the interviews in Wired, the whole big shebang of tech start-up stardom. And of course, money! Lots and lots of money.

Today was a big decision day for their company, and June insisted that Timmy be properly dressed for the occasion. Props and Costumes. That was the mantra that guided his Mistress. Probably learned in her early days as a show girl. Get the costume right, dazzle with a few accessories, put something distracting in front of the rubes, and nobody would notice the thin plot, the tiny t**s, or the dumb dialog. Props and Costumes.

So, as June had directed, Timmy was properly outfitted in perfectly-fitting new jeans, and a crisp, blue dress shirt under an oh-so-expensive soft, gray cashmere sweater. The sweater elegantly guarded against the light ocean breeze and the jeans served to accent his slim ass and well-toned legs. Soft, well-worn leather driving shoes complemented the mandatory executive trim of his short silver hair. He looked exactly like what he was supposed to be. Nobody would mistake him for anything other than a successful, slim, fit, California entrepreneur at the peak of his powers. Oh my, how looks can deceive. Especially if you can’t see the constricting pink panty girdle that confined and pressed his flaccid c**k firmly back between his legs. Props and Costumes indeed.

Whenever he was back in his old haunts, Madame thought it prudent to make sure he was aware of who he really belonged to and what he really was. She most definitely did not want any regression back into that outmoded world of white male privilege, hence the confining panty girdle.

In fact, it was precisely that danger that June and her old college roommate Miriam had discussed and re-discussed over the last couple of weeks. This was not the time for one of Timmy’s recurrent hissy fits and silly rebellions. This was a tricky moment. They needed compliance, not resistance. He had to charm the customers, impress the investment bankers, and assure the advance tech guys from the Bureau of Cyber Security that he was personally on top of things.

And he had to do these things in a way that Miriam’s plans would be advanced, not hindered. After all, both women knew that using men’s s****l perversions to manipulate them, while easy to do, was not a foolproof strategy. It had to be managed carefully.

True, Miriam was third in her graduating class at Wharton, and had a solid track record in the executive suites of two Fortune 1000 companies. But still, while that would cover the business aspects, the human aspects of managing the company founder were not something the coolly controlled Miriam was qualified to do. Sidelining the legendary founder of the company was a job for, shall we say, a more persuasive, subtle mind. And in this case, the mind that was inside the incredible body of the buxom, clever, wildly experienced and sexy Mrs. June Bracken.

June had had a short conversation with Timmy before he was set free and allowed to slip into her car and briefly imagine that he was again a bold young stud flying down the coastal hills to important business meetings. She reminded him that since Miriam had come on board, profits had grown nicely, a new five year NSA contract had been inked, and the campus had already been expanded to allow for some tempting new lines of business.

And it was certainly true that revenue was way, way up. Timmy himself had gone over the financials in great detail just a week before. He had even quizzed the CFO about a few tricky accounting maneuvers that seemed iffy to him. He had to admit, as a hard-nosed business guy, that Miriam had performed even better than Madame had promised.

For it was June who had hired Miriam to replace him as CEO, so that, as she explained, “Her wimpy little p***y boy could spend more time thinking about how to please his wife’s hungry t**t, and less time playing big shot to a bunch of adolescent boys who were doing the real work at the company anyway.”

Just this morning, as he bowed before her with his lips on the tips of her perfect toes, Madame had reminded him again that Miriam was in charge, and that June, and June alone, was supervising Miriam. His main job today, as a nice obedient cunt slave, was to sign whatever was put in front of him – and look good while he did it.

As the red Infiniti growled to a stop at the nondescript gate of TRB, the company he had proudly named with his own initials, the mature, muscular guard flew out the door of a low gray concrete building, and greeted the visitor with a hearty, “Welcome back, Mr. Bracken!” Timmy rolled his eyes, and replied, “Good to see you too, Bob. But jeez, we don’t do Face Credentials here at TRB. Stay in your place as usual, and have me pass my ID through to you. It’s safer, and we don’t want to give those Washington idiots the idea we liberal retards out here in California can’t stick to the security rules, OK?”

“Sure, Boss, got it. No problem.” And with that, the heavy gate swung open and Timmy proceeded, not without a complex mix of nostalgia, anxiety, and anticipation, toward his scheduled meeting with the intimidating, in command, CEO of “his” company.

“French Roast, no sugar, black,” the pert young intern in the casual, very short, sunny yellow dress cheerfully repeated as she handed a steaming mug to the tall, impressive, sixtyish ‘Boss’ of the company. “Hi, I’m Angela. I’m like totally pleased to meet you. I just graduated last month from UC Santa Barbara, and I got this, oh, I mean Miriam gave me this totally awesome opportunity to be her intern for the summer.”

In spite of himself, Timmy had to grin at the enthusiasm of this bouncing young woman, filled with joy and ambition, who was doing her best to be pleasing to the Man she had heard so much about but never actually seen in the flesh. Timmy almost replied with his old “Relax, Cupcake! Just bring it all into my office,” where he would somehow maneuver to have the sweet young cutie bend over so he could examine her taut butt and pert titties as they waggled around before him. But luckily he caught himself just in time, and only murmured a gentle, “Well, thank you, Angela, and welcome to the company.”

This was lucky because, leaning on the doorjam of the entrance to the CEO’s expansive office was the CEO herself – dressed in a severe knee-length blue pin-stripe business suit. Miriam, June’s closest confidant, looked at him with a sardonic smile and said, “Hello, Timmy, so very nice to see you. Thanks for coming down on such short notice. Did June tell you what this was all about?”

Timmy replied in a flustered stutter, “Ah, no, Miriam, I’m sorry, I don’t know anything.” He trembled slightly and wondered if somehow she had read his mind, and seen the near emergence of his old arrogant male privilege. But she hadn’t, she merely snorted in agreement and replied, “So come on in and we’ll get started right away. June made it clear to me that your time is valuable. We should finish up here pretty quick, and then you can spend the rest of the afternoon conferring with the boys. I hear they need your input on some new higher-level coding strategies, and they also need you to resolve some arguments the teams are having about how to translate some of your more arcane theories into actual practice.”

She stepped aside, allowing Timmy to precede her into the office, and then said, “Angela, please bring a note pad and come along, too. We will need a witness for some of these signatures. But first ask Gloria, the CFO, to join us in case Timmy has any financial questions. And ask Linda to stand by for any Human Resources issues that we may need explained. I will get Susan on the speakerphone, so we’re covered for any legal questions that might come up. So, we’re all set. Let’s go! Show Time!”