Rac Rolls was an extremely well known Cigar company. It began less than fifteen years ago and since the day it started it has only boomed bigger and bigger by the day. Brought up higher and higher by one man, Eric Theodore Cartman. A large man who single handedly spent since the age of twenty-six working hard to build the company in a blooming way that no one else could ever think were possible.

Kyle had seen photos of the man, large build, very attractive, despite being in a marriage with famous model and four time national pageant winner; Heidi Turner, he was one of the most sought after man in the city, his wife was a close second.

But the man wasn't just well known for his good looks and his beautiful wife.

He was also known for being know as the most controversial business man in all of New York City, some could say he out ranked Donald fucking Trump.

Rumors of money laundering, drugs, cheating embezzlement.

The stuff that was true was even just as worse.

The abuse of staff, the one to many bad takes online, and rage riddle public freakouts any paparazzi would flock to in a single breath.

Kyle had no idea why or how but here he was. In lower east Manhattan in the very heart of the stock and business area being interviewed to be the assistant of the very man who owned the company. His heart raced with anxiety sitting in front of his interviewer; Head of HR Wendy Testaburger.

Actually he knew exactly why he was here.

Kyle watched as she looked through the many documents he was required to give her, his resume, proof of graduating highschool and college and a few health forms he had to sign, a few references he had received from smaller businesses he interned at during college.

Wendy put the papers down and looked at Kyle and he tried his best to swallow his thickening anxiety.

"Your friend Mr. Tweak was very vocal about you being very good at standing your ground and being a very hard worker, ; do you agree?"

His roommate Tweek put in a good word for him for this job. He was a coffee boy for the company and saw how the most recent assistant was brutally fired.

"Hng-Dude I'm telling you it was insane!" Tweek said with a twitch of his tic. Kyle rolled his eyes. Tweek said the CEO was a total monster, borderline traumatizing workers and being an overall monstrous dick spewing hurtful words wherever he went. There wasn't a day where not one person didn't cry if they stood in Eric Cartman's path

"He was probably just tired and the dude was probably really bad at his job." Kyle said, he always often thought the media was dramatic about how Eric Cartman poised himself. Seeing the older man as some obnoxious business mogul rather than some rage fueled beast the media portrayed.

Tweek looked at him with a raised brow. "D-Dude hng-have you seen the news on him? TMZ?"

Kyle shrugged. "I just think it's all editing, maybe some people can't handle it."

"O-Oh so you're saying you'd be be-ack!-better?" Kyle rolled his eyes at Tweek's retort. "I'm not saying anything! I'm just saying anybody can file a few pieces of paper and pick up coffee, it's not that hard!"

"S-S-hng-So you th-think you can ju-jusst handle it?!" Tweek questioned Kyle with furrowed brows.

Kyle shrugged. "How hard could it be?"

"Ffff-Fine, let's see if I c-hng!-can put in a good word for you."

And so here he was, basically betting his whole life because he didn't know when to shut his mouth. Shifting in his seat he nodded. "Yeah I mean I look like I can't handle myself but I really can; and from the stories I hear from Tweek. I don't think it could be that bad right?" Kyle asked in reassurance. It had to all be editing, the media just taking the eye of whatever storm Eric had that day.

Wendy's face shifted, from the calm collected look she had before it seemed like it almost had vanished; evaporated into tense nervousness. "Ah, well…" She fiddled with the pen in front of her and Kyle felt like he was sinking. No…

"Wait, the stories are actually true? He's really that insufferable?" Oh God What was Kyle supposed to do now? He was seconds away from possibly getting accepted into this job with bossfuckingzilla. "W-Well insufferable wouldn't be what I'd say!"

"Tweek told me he saw him flip a desk because someone missed a deadline for something by a fucking day!" Kyle hissed his blood pumping. Kyle's expectations were false, and they usually never were– and he was scared of that for once.

Wendy sighed heavily and Kyle knee bounced with nerves. He was really thinking about leaving the lavish office building waiting for Tweek to go on his break to confess he was taking his ass home in defeat. "Look Mr. Broflovski, the thing is that yes has a reputation around the office of being well.. a bit of a prima donna."

Kyle rolled his eyes; primadonna? He folded his arms and his brows lowered. That's the choice of words Wendy had for the monster soon to be met. But he stayed in his seat waiting to hear what way she could possibly convince him to not get up and walk out this building.

"But we really just need someone willing to try, and trust us; if it doesn't work out we are willing to compensate." Wendy bargained.

Kyle's eyebrow raised, growing intrigued. "Compensate?"

Wendy explained as she shuffled in her desk drawer. "With the company having quite a lot of money and as many controversies–" She mumbled the ending lightly as she pulled out a piece of paper from her desk. "Whenever an employee gets abruptly fired we always have to give them compensation for it so as to not risk getting sued." She then slid it towards Kyle and he peaked down at it. "This was what we gave Eric's previously terminated assistant. This is just a basic rate. Sometimes we are willing to bargain depending on the stance of them being fired."

Kyle's eyes widened at the large number of zeros. It was enough to have him living alone cushy and comfy for at least a few years.

What was the harm if the outcome of getting humiliated till he got fired? If he was really starting to get fed up working for Eric Cartman he could always get himself fired on purpose.

Looking back up at Wendy he sighed. "Okay, when can I start?"

Wendy sighed in relief. Thankful for him agreeing. "Mr. Cartman needs to have an introductory interview with you and you should be all settled tomorrow, don't worry too much, I should be there for most of this interview."

Kyle gulped, what's he got to lose?

As Kyle walked through the floor of the corporate offices he made sight of Tweek who was blushing red, talking to some poker faced guy with black hair by the water cooler. The moment they locked eyes Tweek had a big smile on his face and waved.

Kyle gave a little wave back as he and Wendy turned into the elevator. The whole situation sunk in as he watched Wendy press the elevator button. "He should've finished a phone meeting a bit ago so we can easily get through all the introductions."

"Uh huh" Kyle said as the elevator doors opened and they both stepped inside. Kyle just couldn't stop but wondered what exactly he dragged himself into. How far could this go till he'd regret this? Working with some monster like Eric Cartman? It would be a matter of time before Kyle snapped, he could feel it prickling in his blood.

Wendy pressed the button to the top floor, the elevator closed and then they were off to floor thirty-one. "It's really easy work; just a few filing and reminding him of his schedule for the day and picking up anything he asks for, maybe going with him to an interview or photo shoot. It's just well-"

"The attitude problem?" Kyle finished for her. He watched as the numbers on the elevator increased,seventeen..eighteen..nineteen…twenty Wendy laughed nervously. "Yeah... look I can speak for the company when I say we really appreciate the risk you are taking..."

twenty-one..twenty-two..twenty-three.. The praise gave him a bit of a pride booster, feeling slightly confident for taking on a risk. Even if Kyle may have hated being a risk taker all the time, the praise after was worth every challenge. "I'm pretty confident I can handle it."

twenty-four..twenty-five….twenty-six….twenty-seven

Kyle was at least eighty-five percent sure he could handle it; the other twenty-five percent was going to beat the shit out of Eric Cartman.

Kyle remembered when he handled pushing bullies out of his and Tweek's way as they were kids and teens; he handled a lot of his moms overbearingness and house flipping of emotions. Eric Cartman was just a big old bully who was rich and was full of crazy emotions.

twenty-eight…twenty-nine…thirty..Ding!...thirty-one

The elevator door opened and muffled shouting could be heard from the office in front of them. Wendy stepped out of the elevator and onto the lush red carpet with gold trim. Kyle tensed in shocking confusion at the shouting. "Are you sure?" Wendy questioned as he took a shaking step out.

Was he? Honestly he already felt pretty done with the entire situation, but he already applied and agreed to what was coming. There was no way Kyle could just chicken out this early on.

"Of course" It may have sounded a bit shaky and insecure, but Kyle pushed out as much confidence as he could muster. Pulling a smile on his face and Wendy nodded.

There was a desk to the left side of the room that Wendy pointed Kyle's attention to. "This is Nichole Daniels desk, she's 's secretary."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "He really needs a secretary and an assistant?"

There was a crash coming from the room. "He doesn't like her but she was hired under a program. If he fired her there'd be a lawsuit. So he just lets her pick up the phone and write down dates and times of his appointments and array of other important business. So you'll be going to her for his schedule daily."

Wendy walked over to the door and looked at Kyle before she opened it. She turned back to the door letting out a loud sigh before muttering, faintly but just enough for Kyle to make it out ever so slightly. "..Lets see what bullshit it is this time…"

The room was absolutely radiant. Glass windows along the back of the room with gray marble tiles on the floor with a light gray carpet leading up to the beautiful and long dark oak desk where all of Eric Cartman's belongings were placed. There was a blood red leather seat in front of it with a small coffee table with a small display case of cigars resting atop placed neatly to the side.

Off to the side of the room was a cart full of expensive whiskeys, tequilas, and rum. A printer far off to the corner. Nearby there were two couches that faced each other near the cart and a black rug in between them with a gold trim.

The rest of the room had display cases of awards, news articles, covers of magazines, and even some cigars that Rac Rolls have made that are limited edition. Not one spot was empty of Eric's accomplishments.

The only thing that wasn't as radiant was the scene playing out in front of Kyle and Wendy.

Kyle saw who he could only assume was Nichole Daniels Mr. Cartman's Secretary rampantly went through a messy stack of papers in her hand as clutter of papers surrounded her.

He looked at the larger man. Eric Cartman; large and stocky, hair and beard trimmed and set neatly so handsomely and professionally well on his head. Thin rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, protecting the blue and brown of his heterochromia eye.

Kyle has peeked at the occasional morning news segment or seen covers on magazines where Eric showed up for, he'd alway look so cool and calm, absolutely dripping with confidence.

But nowhere he was yelling at his damn secretary like a spoiled brat.

"Okay okay!" Wendy shouted walking up towards them, "What the fuck is the problem now?" Kyle's eyes widened slightly at the sudden disappearance of Wendy's professional.

"This stupid broad came in and tripped on nothing Wendy- Fucking nothing! This is ridiculous! I'm tired of her clown shit!" He raised his arms furiously and glared at Wendy.

Kyle rolled his eyes. What a great start to introductions…

"Okay Eric just calm down we can get the papers picked u-" Wendy calmly spoke to Eric but he only erupted once more slamming a fist down onto his desk. "That's not the point Testacunt! She lost a paper I need to have signed and sent down to accounting now! If I don't find that goddamn paper I'm going to seriously fucking lose it bitch!"

"Okay okay! We will look for it just calm the fuck down!" It was kinda ridiculous watching for a moment, the women looking on the ground like headless chickens while Eric delegated.

It was kinda automatic for Kyle to tune the ridiculous display out. It didn't take him long to look around the room and noticed a paper that was resting atop of a pillow on a red couch.

He took a few steps over and picked up the paper. Kyle could only assume that this was the paper that he was in such dire need for as those clueless idiots continued to search through the papers in their hands and on the floor.

"I swear to fucking christ Wendy; if I don't get that paper in the next five seconds I am going to fire you so I can fucking fire Nichole!" Wendy scoffed at Eric's threat. "Oh please! You're being fucking dramatic! I doubt accounting will crash and burn over one paper!"

"I'm already three fucking days late on it!" He shouted back.

"Well why can't you just get things done when you're handed them!"

"Hey," Kyle tried to butt in but their bickering shielded them from any other sounds. Once again, Kyle rolled his eyes, would this be common for the job too? Possibly.

"Thats not the fucking point here Wendy!"

"Hey!" Kyle shouted out and the yelling was put on pause. Eric glared at Kyle's way and he didn't feel intimidated in any way honestly; he was just really pissed at the fact that it's taken this long for him to settle into this obvious nightmare of a job.

Why did he tell Tweek he could handle this?

"And who the fuck are you?" Eric moved past Wendy and leered over Kyle. Eric towered over Kyle's 5'9 height with his whopping 6'3 height. A shiver went down his spine but it was hard to pinpoint if it was from fear or something else.

"Kyle, Kyle Broflovski." He said calmly and raised his arm up and pushed the paper in Eric's chest. "I could only assume that this is the paper you are so worked up over, if you looked around for more than a second you would have found it by the couch."

Eric only snatched the paper from his hand, turning from Kyle and looking at Wendy. "And why the fuck is he here?"

"He's your new assistant!" Wendy quickly said. She quickly rushed to Kyle's side and came between them.

Eric turned to glance back at Kyle but his stance never once changed, standing with an intimidating predatory confidence, in the past thirty seconds it was abundantly clear to Kyle that he was trying to smell the fear on Kyle, but he had none.

He walked over to his desk pulling a pen out of the penholder and signing the document. After he turned back around he shoved it Nichole's way. "Take this down to accounting then fuck off; I'm tired of looking at your fucking face." As Nichole departed out the room as fast as she could with all the papers and one Eric now handed her with he turned to glare at Wendy. "Oh and you can fuck off too Wendy I know your dyke ass has someone to listen to about their bitch baby lives, or some complaint to shover in the shredder or someshit, I'll finish up with Kyle here alone."

"Uh Eric-" Wendy tensed up eyebrow twitching from the deprecating words, probably a charging bite back on her tongue but he cut off any chance of that.

"I already told you to do something Wendy, so goodbye." Eric said sternly, watching Wendy as she opened her mouth to try and argue once more but only finding quick defeat. "Fine." She huffed.

She looked to Kyle muttering a soft, "Good luck" and soon left out the door. Leaving Kyle with the ticking bipolar time bomb. It felt like Kyle was stranded on an island with an active volcano, he was just waiting for the moment it finally erupted.

"Sit, Broflovski right?" Kyle went to the plush red leather chair sitting down in it, putting his clammy nerve riddled hands on his lap. "Uh, yes sir."

Eric leaned back in his chair, staring Kyle's way as if he was studying him. Trying to crack down on what exactly Kyle sought after sitting there in front of him.

Why was he so nervous? Yeah, honestly seeing how he acted and the tales of horror Tweek told him… sitting in this chair staring at his new monster of a boss, it was kind of scary that Tweek wasn't over exaggerating.

But this nervousness wasn't fear, it was a need to impress; an insatiable desire to show Eric Cartman that Kyle could be the best.

To show everyone he was the best.

"So how did you hear about this position Kyle?" His hands rested in the crease of his torso; his fingers in a loose interlock as he was staring intensely and impatiently for the redhead in front of him to answer.

"My roommate; Tweek, he works here, said he would put a good word in for me." Kyle said as he watched the way Eric's eyebrow raised and a sly smirk taking form on his face. "What's Tweek's position again? I have far too many employees to remember what they all do."

Kyle's brows twitched slightly, begging to furrow into a sneer. "He's the office coffee boy."

"Ah yes, how could I forget?" Eric hummed as he leaned forward on his desk. Hands firmly interlocked and grinning ear to ear. "So, do you really think a 'good word' from the stuttering, fumbling excuse of a coffee boy is good enough?" Kyle did not like those words the second they came from his now soon to be boss' lips.

And when Kyle was annoyed it didn't take very much to turn his annoyance to anger. The arms that were resting on Kyle's lap now folded over his chest, it only prompted that smirk to grow bigger like he was some goddamn Cheshire cat, like he was pleased to know he was winning some game in his head.

It especially pissed him off the way he practically degraded his dear friend; the very friend he had protected and stood by for years. Tweek was a bit twitchy and skittish… and clumsy– but he was the bestest friend Kyle could ever ask for beside his closest friend Stan.

Eric started speaking once again smirk never once dissipating, "Honestly, you really think that I just accept anyone who walks into my office saying someone 'put in a good word for him'," Eric put his hands up momentarily to make little air quotes with his hands, his tone was mocking and it was making Kyle nauseous with anger.

"You need to prove it to me Khal, you have to-"

That sparked Kyle, "It's Kyle." He was firm, cold and harsh, feeling like he was being undermined like he was a damn kid again by the way Eric spoke to him, the way he spoke about his friend. This job and Eric's handsome face would not last very long.

Eric stopped talking, the smirk dropped immediately. Why did Kyle have to open his big fat mouth? He hated that he had his mothers quick angry tongue.

Kyle watched as he shifted from leaning back to leaning close. He didn't have a glare in his eyes, but the way his eyes narrowed would have seemed he was ready to lose his shit in front of Kyle if he said anything else.

"Oh my dearest apologies Kyle– but that still doesn't help your case." Kyle despised the way the phrase 'my dearest apologies' rolled off Eric's tongue. It wasn't sincere– there wasn't a scent of sincerity in his voice in the slightest.

"And please sir, what will help my case exactly?" Kyle said arms still crossed firmly with an eyebrow quirked. "I'm quite about done with you're fucking riddles."

And Kyle wasn't exactly sure what he did or said to bring that smirk back on Eric's face but whatever it was he was glad it was helping his so-called 'case'.

Eric pressed a finger to his glasses pushing them upwards. "It's really simple really; prove to me you won't be like all the other pussies I've hired as my assistant."

He wanted Kyle to prove to him that he could handle it. Kyle believed he could, he had expectations that he really could. But honestly, with the way his patient was wearing so thin that even the wind could snap the string it was holding his anger together. "I want you to really sell it to me Kyle. Sell it so that I won't have to send you out that door with your tail between your twinky little legs."

"I'm not stupid like the rest; it's pretty obvious you have these ridiculously high expectations to satisfy you." Kyle said with a huff and a narrowing look splayed upon his face. "It's also pretty obvious you have the temper of a bull, and you need someone smart enough to conceptualize actual solutions; not some idiot willing to please."

Of course he had to be professional. This was the biggest man; literally and metaphorically– In all of New York City. Making practically a billion dollars a year. It was a struggle but Kyle kept his ground, but also showed a desperate willingness for this job, he did need it.

As much as he adored his friendship with Tweek; Kyle craved for his own space; maybe to even share with someone romantically one day. But he was twenty-eight god damnit– He deserved his own space one day.

Kyle needed more in his life than just strolling by with his roomate, Kyle needed to make his way to the cushy comfy top.

But– Kyle still felt fumed, like his body was boiling and ready to burst, so his professionalism dwindled and trickled away.. "So let me prove to you that I'm not some pussy aiming to get your dick wet. I'll fucking prove to you I'm someone smart enough to do the job."

While Kyle spoke Eric's smirk shrunk more and more, till it was just a flat poker face. It was nerve wracking, downright uncomfortable, Kyle felt like he had bile brewing with that blank studied stare.

"You know what– I like you, think of it as a lucky chance Broflovski. You start tomorrow at eight am sharp, you'll get your own personal work phone that is for answering my calls."

"You better clock in before eight am, or you won't be getting this job."

That was not the words Kyle was expecting. He was expecting something to happen in those horror stories Tweek has told him countless and countless of times.

But he got it. Kyle was the assistant to Eric Theodore Cartman; the biggest man in New York.

"T-Thank you sir."

Wendy had forwarded all of Kyle's information during the middle of their interview way after the redhead had left Eric had finally looked through it.

Eric wanted to find some sort of flaw in the way Kyle seemed to boast about his capabilities, like there was just no way he was as good as he swore he was.

But... There were none; He was valedictorian in highschool, has numerous honor rolls, took debate and many other extracurriculars all throughout highschool all the way up into college, and was the top three of his class in financial business studies in NYU for fucks sakes. He had even checked every reference and every single one was reliable and accurate.

At twenty-eight years old Kyle had somehow accomplished so much with such precision and perfection that Eric couldn't believe how… fucking stunned he was.

It had fully been over an hour ago since Kyle had left his office. Eric took an intensive look through each and every document Wendy had sent on Kyle. But yet it had still left Eric to feel like there was more.

Like there was more to the snapshot of grand moments in Kyle's life.

"My roommate Tweek put in the good word for me…"

Eric reached over and grabbed his desk phone with attentive speed, quickly and efficiently dialing Wendy's number.

Click– "What?" Cartman heard the feminine voice through the phone and it brought a scowl to his face. He hated talking to Wendy; it was a constant hassle with her. Always talking about the 'good will' of the company– fuck that, it never mattered much to Eric when all he cared about was getting richer.

"Where's the fucking coffee boy?" He gruffed out.

"You mean Tweek?"

"No– I mean the fucking Napoleon's left testicle– Yes! I mean that stuttering fucking junkie!" Eric shouted through the phone, gripping the handle tightly. "Get him up here now Testacunt or someone is losing their job today."

"Okay! I'll go fucking find him just calm the fuck dow-" Eric slammed the phone back onto the receiver.

The words of the slim ginger rang in Eric's head over and over. Leaving this.. bittersweet taste in his mouth.

So let me prove to you that I'm not some pussy aiming to get your dick wet. I'll prove to you I'm someone smart enough to do the job.

The redhead's words made his heart skip several beats, it sent him on a crazy rush that Eric felt like he could never achieve sober. A rush that he only had dreams of ever achieving sober.

He needed to know how the fuck that redhead did it. How the fuck did Kyle manage to waltz in here and know exactly to spark something deep within Eric he hadn't truely felt before.

It was heart racing, chest tightening– it sent him on a panicked journey within his mind that was just a spiraling maze to uncertainty.

Eric was slapped back into reality hearing the irritable sounds of 'ack' and 'oh god' getting closer and closer. He pulled off his glasses, placing them on his desk hearing the ridiculous grunts and 'hngs' as the door clicked open he let out a deep sigh of frustration.

"Y-nghn-You w-wanted me? oh god" Tweek enter the room shaking like a fucking leaf in the wind.

"Lock the door and get over here."

"Oh God oh God oh-" There was a sound of the door locking shut and footsteps.

"Shut up!" Eric shouted and Tweek's quick paced muttering ended but his shaking and hand twitching got worse. Eric sighed; putting a hand to his face, rubbing his temples deeply. "Just sit down."

"N-Ngh- ack! S-Sorry f-fuck! uhm.."

"Tweek just shut the fuck up and listen to me for five god damn seconds before I shove your head through my fucking window."

The blonde nodded as he gripped the armchairs of the leather seat and chewed his lip, leg twitching like he was itching for a fucking fix. It gave Eric a headache– almost like he was watching a mirrored image of himself.

Eric looked at Tweek then he spoke, clasping his hands together as he leaned his arms over his desk, staring intensely– murderous daggers Tweek's way. "Anything I ask or you tell me leaves this office I will make sure you are living in a box under the fucking brooklyn bridge– do you understand me?"

"Hng- Y-Yes sir.." Tweeks hands collided with each other, pricking and proding at his skin.

"You are going to tell me everything about Kyle Broflovski and I mean everything.." Eric hissed lowly. "You leave any fucking detail out I'm cutting your pay by fifty fucking percent."

"ack! O-Oh God, yes sir…"

The questionnaire began, though with each question being more personal and more valuable to Eric's mental file that took up the majority of his mind titled Kyle.

But Eric had all the personal details on Kyle, from his health forms his w-2 his résumé, but Eric wanted to know the specifics.

"Kyle single?" Eric burned daggers into the twitching blonde's head. One wrong answer and he'd be dead where he sat.

"Hng- ack, Y-Yeah, he was dating a friend of ours for a while, they kinda hook up sometimes." Tweek's eyes shifted away from Eric's, fear riddled in his frail body trying to look elsewhere to regain what little courage he had left.

"Guy? Girl? Give me specifics twitchy! I don't have all fucking day." Eric huffed quickly

"Ah! Ack hng! A guy okay?! H-hng-His name is Stan!" Tweek covered his face expecting that Eric would've reached over the table and socked him in the face if he didn't respond fast enough.

"Does he exclusively like guys?" Eric asked with a raised brow, prickling with a deep intrigued indulgence.

Tweek's face had a slight pink flush as his shaking hands fell slowly, nodding gently.

Wouldn't be hard to get him to get with yo-

Eric blinked at the creeping thought, locked it far and deep in the back of his mind to never think of again.

But this was good, really good.

But why did it not feel enough?

Why did it feel like something was missing? There was one tiny piece of the puzzle that Eric couldn't grasp.

He took a look at Tweek.

Spazzing and twitching, muttering hopelessly and softly to himself, eyes darting anywhere but Eric.

He held it. Tweek held the missing piece.

Eric leaned over his desk, a devious smirk looming his lips. "There's something you aren't telling me Twitchy Tweek, spill."

Tweek jumped in the seat when he regained eye contact with Eric. "W-hngWhat? Ack- N-No ther-"

"Want to keep your full fucking paycheck or not?" Eric threatened the question with such casual effortlessness.

"Ack!- Y-Yes sir!"

"Then fucking tell me." Eric hissed darkly.

"Hng oh god- I can't believe I'm saying this ack- K-Kyle h-hng-he likes to w-wear oh god, g-girly..stuff some-sometime-es…"

All the emotions had left Eric's face. His mind exploded with a volcanic eruption of thoughts of Kyle in an expansive array of girly stuff.

Lingerie… panties… who knew how far Eric could push Kyle's limit-

"Fuck outta here." Eric demanded almost immediately.

Tweek blinked in an utterly dazed confusion. "hng W-What?"

"Fuck off Twitchy!" Eric pounded his fist to the desk. "I got everything I needed from you so get the fuck out!"

"ack! Oh god! O-Okay a-are you going to c-c-hng-cut my p-p-ay?"

Eric groaned, annoyed, putting hand to his head and using his free hand to point to the door, an angered sigh leaving his breath.

His head didn't move till he heard the door click shut, before digging his teeth into his bottom lip, gnawing on it.

Staring straight ahead all he saw was the vivid imagery of his perverted mind, fuck he can't be this hard at work…

Kyle in beautiful lingerie, each with a more intricate and expensive design and feel than the last, bent all pretty for him, that pale skin flushed with humiliation…goosebumps from fear of what his boss would do to him…

The ginger wearing panties, bras, tight skimpy little skirts, hugging the plump flesh around his hips.

Drifting him far past comfortable bounds the sweet little boy was used to…

Kyle was going to go far in this company…

Eric just knew it.