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From: azil@my-dejanews.com
Subject: ASS/M: My Reward, Chapter 13 (MC, M/F(preg), humil, breast enlarge, public orgy
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My Reward
By Azil
Copyright 1998


Disclaimers:

This is a work of fiction. No character is meant to resemble any specific
person, living or dead.

Sexual actions of various types will be depicted in this story. This does not
mean that the author approves of these actions, has ever performed any of
them, or would perform them if given the opportunity. (Nor does it mean that
he doesn't, hasn't, and/or wouldn't).

This is inappropriate reading material for minors. In many jurisdictions it
may be illegal for minors to read it, or for adults to make it available for
minors to read. The author urges you not to disobey these laws. Even if it
isn't illegal where you are, keep it away from kids anyway.


CHAPTER 13: TAKING TIME TO THINK

As I drove to the office the next day, I spent some time thinking about the
powers I had, and about what was important to me, and about, well, life.

You may not believe it, but the thought of getting rid of Reward even crossed
my mind.

When my family got home, I realized how much, even with all the fun I'd been
having, I had missed them, and how important they were to me. And I wondered
whether I was risking something precious in order to have something that was
just a lot of fun.

Even Chris's begging off, as usual, from sex because she was too tired from
the drive (a legitimate excuse, of course) didn't change things. I had lived
without good sex all these years, I knew I could do it again, if I had too.

I said above that I considered doing away with Reward -- as the phrasing tells
you, I didn't.

I wanted the best of both worlds, and I was determined to figure out a way to
have it.

I knew I couldn't have practically non-stop sex with every woman who
interested me without it sooner or later having bad (maybe disastrous)
consequences on my family life. I had seen some things in me that were likely
to create problems down the road -- most obviously, my newly-discovered taste
for underage girls, but also the pleasure I had taken in dominating women.

I thought I saw a solution in a few of the things I had learned from Reward.
The solution might lie in Tom Mallory of Phoenix today not doing these things
(or at least not as often), but using the powers I had over time and space to
put myself in different times and different places. Also to avoid doing
damage to anyone (or change the course of history) by interacting only with
clones in cloned versions of the times and places I visited.

Meanwhile, I could continue to have fun in the here and now by creating other
identities for myself (the most immediate application I could see for this was
to create a guy about Debbie Kowalski's age who could get into that little
babe's pants).

Meanwhile, Tom Mallory could continue to be a respectable business leader and
family man, with perhaps only a quiet, discreet affair with Beth and a few
other occasional wanderings.

Hypocritical? Well, perhaps a little. But the best possible solution to the
dilemma, I thought. By the time I got to the office, Reward and I were working
out the details and trying to figure out the best way to test the idea.

When I got to the office, though, I found nothing but trouble, and no time to
consider the further advancement of my fantasies.

Merianne O'Connor, the raging bitch account exec I mentioned earlier had
thrown the office into turmoil again by creating a huge problem with one of
our clients, telling the client's director of advertising that his store's
use of big-busted models was demeaning to women, and not something our agency
should be party to. This would have been stupid enough in any case, but it
wasn't even an account to which she was assigned.

Michelle Hawks came into my office and closed the door. "Tom, we've got to
get rid of her. I tried to talk some sense into her. I pointed out that the
damn store's business is selling sexy lingerie, for god's sake -- of course
they're going to use models with big boobs. I told her to worry about her own
accounts. She just won't listen -- she's decided this is a sacred cause. Andv
you know it's not the first time. Let's go talk to Mark"

I agreed to go to Mark with her, although both of us knew that the chances of
getting Mark Vincent to do much of anything were pretty slim. Our agency
president had started slipping into lethargy about five years previous, when
his wife died. The problem was he adamantly refused to admit to himself that
the fire was gone. A good man, wealthy, and a physically vigorous sixty, he
should be enjoying life on some beach. Unfortunately he couldn't face the
loneliness of retirement, and kept coming into the office to avoid being
alone.

Another problem, I knew, was that Merianne O'Connor was the orphaned daughter
of one of Mark's early business associates. There was no way he'd fire her,
no matter what she did.

Half an hour later Michelle and I came out of Mark's office after getting
exactly the results we expected. He'd made excuses for Michelle, he'd
promised to think about it, he'd said we were making a big deal out of
nothing, that the account wasn't that important anyway, and a dozen other
things. What he hadn't done was to do what needed to be done.

"That's it," said Michelle, frustrated and angry, when we got back to her
office and closed the door. "I like Mark as much as you or anybody else, but
he's going to drag the whole agency down if this goes on much longer. We've
got to get everybody together and force him out."

The way our partnership was structured, Mark could be forced out if
two-thirds of the partners (five of the seven) agreed. I had no doubt the
votes were there -- in fact, I'd be one of them if it came to that. I wanted
to avoid it, though, and I thought I knew a way.

"Michelle, I agree with you in principle," I said, "but will you give me
until the end of the day to find another solution? If the problem isn't fixed
by then, I promise to help you move Mark out."

She readily agreed, no more anxious than I was to wound an old friend
unnecessarily.

I left for lunch at my usual place to work out the details over a double
cheeseburger. I cleared out a table in Diana's station, then had Reward get
the manager to reassign all her other tables to other waitresses.

She came to my table, with her order pad out. "What would you like to have,
Master?"

"I'll have a double cheeseburger deluxe with fries, a cup of coffee, and a
blowjob," I replied.

"Thank you, Master," she replied. "I'll place your order and be right back
with the coffee and blowjob."

Diana was back quickly, putting the coffee in front of me, and then crawling
under the table to unzip my pants and begin sucking me. I knew I shouldn't
have done this, since the blowjob would no doubt interfere with my thinking,
but I couldn't resist. And, anyway, I had the basics of the plan worked out.

The way I figured it was that our real problem was Mark. We had to get rid of
both Mark and Merianne, but Merianne could be eliminated by tossing her over
a cliff, as far as I was concerned. (I quickly added an aside to Reward that
I wasn't serious about that). But Mark we had to get rid of in a way that
made him happy to go.

And the reason Mark didn't want to go was because he was afraid he'd be bored
and lonely in retirement. What better way to make sure that he wasn't lonely
and bored than to give him a beautiful and devoted young wife?

Who? Merianne, of course.

I considered the possible objections, which were pretty obvious.

"Merianne doesn't really like Mark all that much": So?

"Merianne's a bitch": Well, yes. But Mark didn't think so, he was very fond of
her, seeing her as his protege. And besides, she could be adjusted.

"Mark's 60, Merianne's about 25": Was Mark likely to complain?

I had to take a little break at this point in my thinking, since Diana's
sucking had had its desired effect. I concentrated on the sensations in my
crotch for a few seconds as I grabbed her head and pulled her tight against
me, shoving my cock as far into her as it would go and then fucking her
throat a few strokes before sending my sperm into her belly.

As I leaned back in the seat, Diana cleaned off my dick and then crawled out
from under the table. As she stood she thanked me for giving her my sperm, and
then left to get my cheeseburger.

I returned to my plans, although I was pretty close to finished. I would have
them get married -- the engagement would be announced this afternoon. Had I
left any details out?

Diana returned with the cheeseburger and fries, asking if there was anything
else she could do for me. I told her I didn't need anything while I was
eating, so she could sit across the booth from me and masturbate until I was
done.

She sat sideways in the booth, leaning against the wall, brought her legs up
on the seat, hiked her skirt up to her waist (no panties), and began
fingering herself.

I swallowed a fry and suggested an improvement. "Take off your blouse and bra,
Diana, and play with your tits."

Diana did as she was told, releasing her big, milk-swollen breasts and
beginning to squeeze first one nipple, then the other, as she continued to
play with her clit.

Watching her play with her tits brought to my attention a small flaw in my
plan. Mark, I knew, preferred women who were rather buxom. Merianne's tits
were not tiny, but she was a bit on the small side. Since I wanted Mark to be
happy, I'd have to fix that -- poetic justice considering the issue that had
dominated the morning.

I instructed Reward to increase Merianne's breasts to DD, adding that no one
else would consider this to be a change, but that Merianne should notice it.
The thought of her seeing her breasts suddenly balloon was delicious.

I realized the new tits would probably destroy her blouse, but that gave me
the idea to change her clothes as well. The pinstripe business suit would be
replaced by a super-short skirt, black hose, stilletto heels, and a tight,
lowcut, ruffled, pink blouse. I almost laughed out loud at the mental image.

In fact, the mental image was so good that I asked Reward to bring Merianne
over to the restaurant so I could see the real thing.

There she was in front of me, looking around in confusion, and trying to hide
two huge mounds projecting from her chest.

"You're looking great, Merianne," I said. "Been working out?"

"What's happening to me?" she wailed. Then she saw Diana furiously fingering
herself, and she stammered in greater confusion, unable to speak and just
pointing at the pregnant waitress. She looked around for help, but saw that
none of the other diners was paying the least attention to anything but their
own meals and conversations.

"And I like the way you're dressed today," I added. "It really expresses your
personality."

Merianne tried unsuccessfully to pull her short skirt down her thighs (very
nice ones, I should note), but there just wasn't anything to pull down. "How
can this be happening?" she asked, nearly in tears.

"I made it happen."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I changed your clothes, and I changed your, er, protuberances," I replied.

"You're nuts."

"I may be nuts," I replied, "but I'm not the one who suddenly has two
cantaloupes hanging off my ribs. Since you're not being nice, I won't change
them back."

Obviously she didn't believe me (and who would?), so I quickly returned her
to her normal state, then, a few seconds later, returned her to her new
condition.

She looked at me with a mix of awe and terror. "How did you do that?"

"It's a long story, Merianne, and not one that would really interest you.
Anyway, I don't really want to discuss it with you -- I just brought you over
here because I was curious to see what you looked like now. It's very
interesting - turn around for me." I twirled my finger to indicate ashe should
pirouette.

Reluctantly but obediently, Merianne did a model's turn.

When she was again facing me, I told her to turn once more. "I want to see
your ass a little better," I explained.

Red-faced, she turned. "Lovely," I said truthfully. "Now bend over." When she
did, I noticed her underwear. "I really should take your panties away from
you, but not wearing panties to work would be unprofessional, don't you
think?"

At that moment, Diana, who had been frigging herself ever harder and faster,
came with a series of moans and grunts, collapsing against the wall.

Of course I didn't get a reply to my question, so I added, "Just for the
moment, pull your panties down, so I can see your ass."

She did. Then, at my suggestion, she pulled her pussy lips open.

"You know, Merianne, your ass and pussy are so beautiful, I'm tempted to give
you a quick fuck from behind, but that wouldn't be fair to your husband." I
let her get up.

"My … h-husband?" she stammered, pulling up her panties. She really did have a
nice body. Mark would be a happy man.

"Yes, congratulations on your engagement, by the way. Don't worry about it," I
added, "I'll give you all the details this afternoon."

With that, I dismissed her with a wave of my hand. She walked dispiritedly
through the coffee shop and back to the office, with every man she passed
ogling her extraordinary body and suggestive attire.

Diana was reviving. "Who was that, Master?" she asked. "Another of your
servants?"

"Do you think I should have her as a servant, Diana?" I asked.

"If you want her, Master. But I don't think she could please you as well as I
can."

"An excellent answer, Diana," I replied. "Just for that, why don't you lean
over the table and I'll give you a good fuck from behind."

"Thank you, Master," she squealed with pleasure, as she quickly positioned
herself over the table. As I got up to fuck her, I thought that it would be
fun to play some games with the rest of the diners, so I gave all the women
in the place the sensation of a pair of lips sucking on their clits.

There was a noticeable drop in the amount of conversation in the room,
replaced by a gasp from dozens of mouths, a clatter as a waitress dropped a
tray of food, and chairs screeching as their occupants' legs went rigid.

I entered Diana and began stroking her to the sound of dozens of women
moaning and panting. I grabbed Diana's ass cheeks and rammed her harder,
watching a few women begin to put their hands up their skirts.

So far, none of the men noticed - but I decided it was time to let them in on
the fun. Suddenly there was a riot of voices. The manager started off in a
dozen directions at once, but finally settled on Diana and I as the most
egregious violators of his restaurant's decorum.

As he got near us and started gibbering and wildly gesticulating, I provided
some decoy targets by having all the women get up from their chairs, pull up
their skirts and/or drop their pants and lean over their tables, waiting to be
fucked. They didn't wait long, because I had all the men drop their own pants
and start fucking the nearest cunt (there being more men than women in the
restaurant, the guys who didn't grab a pussy quickly enough had to settle for
any available mouths).

The manager himself was now getting a blowjob from one of the waitresses, who
was being fucked by the customer she had been serving in a different manner
just a moment before.

I came in Diana to the sight of dozens of rutting combinations and the
slurping sounds of wet pussies and blowjobs.

After she cleaned her juices off my cock, dressed me, and thanked me for
fucking her, I started to leave. I then realized that Diana had missed most
of her lunch hour business by serving me, so I left a $100 tip on the table.

As I walked to the door, I noticed people gathering on the sidewalk outside,
gesturing at the crazed behavior in the restaurant -- I had forgotten to put
up any protection around the building. Immediately I returned everyone inside
and outside to normal.

I had to be more careful - I asked Reward to remind me about forgotten details
as I returned to the office, where I had the receptionist announce that there
would be a company meeting at 2:30.

As the staff crowded into the lunchroom, where we generally held meetings of
this type, I had Reward adjust them to accept as perfectly reasonable
everything I said.

I quickly scanned the room - Mark and Merianne were standing next to each
other as I wanted, although they didn't know they had been directed to do so.
Nobody thought there was anything unusual in Merianne's body or dress,
although several of the men were of course admiring her.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," I began when everyone was in.
"I promise this won't be a long meeting, and I promise that it's nothing but
good news."

There was a general sigh of relief.

"First," I went on, "You're probably all aware, despite their discretion,
that there has been a growing bond between Mark Vincent and Merianne
O'Connor." Merianne gaped at me in horror as she realized (I never said she
was dumb) what was about to happen. I had expected her reaction of course, so
had had Reward ensure that everyone else saw nothing but ecstatic bliss on
her face. "It's my pleasure and honor," I added, "to announce that Mark and
Merianne will be getting married."

General applause, shouts of congratulations. Mark beaming and shaking hands
with those nearby. Merianne staring at me with terror and detestation,
although everyone else saw her accepting their good wishes and showing off
her huge engagement ring (a gift from Reward - I had forgotten this detail).

When the general hubbub quieted down, I went on. "I'm sure you'll understand
that Mark is going to be a very busy guy…."

Polite laughter. I overheard one of the copywriters comment that "You might
even say he's going to have his hands full," drawing sniggers from those
around him.

"… so he has reluctantly announced his retirement, effective immediately.
We're all going to miss him, after all he's done to build this agency, but he
and Merianne leave us with our best wishes."

More applause, and more congratulations graciously accepted by Mark and
Merianne.

I held up my hands for quiet. "Just one more thing," I said, "and it's great
news, too. Please join me in congratulating the new CEO of our agency,
Michelle Hawks."

Wild applause - Michelle was genuinely liked and respected by everyone in the
agency. I stepped aside as Michelle came forward to speak briefly about how
she'd need all our help to fill the big shoes, etc, etc, etc.

Then it was over and everyone crowded around the happy couple and/or their new
boss.

When I could work my way through to them, I shook Mark's hand and said, "I'll
bet when Merianne said yes, it was the greatest moment in your life."

His face lit up with joy and then he laughed at the memory. "I'll say. We were
at Flavio's, and I was so excited when I put the ring on her finger that I
dropped it in her ice cream."

Nice touch, Reward.

Then I turned to his happy bride-to-be, who was holding her groom-to-be's
hand and speaking excitedly with a young assistant art director. Only I could
see her agony. When we were nearly alone I leaned over and whispered in her
ear, "Mark's gonna love that ass of yours."

She started to cry, although everyone else saw her giggling at the mildly
ribald comment they presumed I had whispered to her.

I've told you that tears usually soften me.

I had decided to make her the perfect wife for Mark, doing everything to make
him happy, sexually and otherwise, but knowing that she had been forced into
it, and hating every minute of it. But I had also decided that I'd do it only
for six months - that would be enough punishment. Then I'd let her be happy
with her body and her life - she'd be the happy little devoted housewife,
straight out of fifties TV. I wondered idly if June Allyson or Donna Reed
ought to be her model, but I decided I'd let Reward work it out - besides,
neither of them had tits like Merianne's.

But now I decided to let her off the hook immediately - her misery was too
deep. I had Reward make her happy with her position - marriage to Mark
Vincent was something she had dreamed about and worked toward ever since she
had joined the agency three years before. She was ecstatic.

As I left the lunchroom and returned to my office, I remembered that Mark had
no kids from his first marriage - I wondered if I should I let him knock up
Merianne on the honeymoon.

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