Date: Sun, 10 Feb 2013 03:40:48 -0800
From: Theodore Graham <tgrhm@msn.com>
Subject: Corporate Rivals- Part Five

Corporate Rivals- Part Five

Pecking Order

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.

The Match

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."