Pushed Too Far
By Montrose
Miss Summers gets pushed too far and pushes back


It had been a grueling trip. Miss Summers checked her Swiss watch as she
stepped out of the cab in front of her hotel. The clomp of her Italian pumps
echoed in the still of the night. 1:30 AM, actually.

The problems had begun to pile on even before she knew she was going to be
traveling. It was just last Monday that she heard that Rodger was given the
coveted VP job in marketing that should by all rights be hers. She not only
had seniority in the company, despite being only 34 years old, she was also
the top sales performer by a landslide for seven years running.

After he placed her bags at her feet, Miss Summers tipped the cabby well. At
least he hadn't been a disappointment. "Thank you," he said as he bowed
slightly before leaving. Miss Summers nodded down at him. She was used to men
showing her respect. As a six feet tall, curvaceous, muscular 170 pound blonde
bombshell, she presented an imposing sight. But right now she was very tired.

The trip had become a necessity because of a screw up on the part of the new
VP, Rodger. Miss Summers growled as she remembered the CEO, old Max, telling
her she would have to go all the way to New York from corporate headquarters
in San Francisco to placate a top client that Rodger had manage to tick off.
She had flown out and spent eighteen hours a day feeding, pampering and
stroking the clients key minions until all was well.

And just as she thought everything was a go, the client's president of
purchasing had the nerve to suggest she suck him off to seal the deal! Right
there in his posh office, he unzipped his fly and pulled out a meaty lap
snake. Was she going to let all her work go for nothing, just because she
didn't want to choke down this man's load? Not Miss Summers. She got down on
her knees and gave that man the best deep throat he ever had. She had walked
out of that office with her head held high, and a splotch of come on her
cheek.

After that, she had rushed back to her New York hotel to clean up and catch
her flight. But who should call as she stepped out of the shower? The client's
CEO was down in the lobby. He had heard about the "special treatment" and
wanted some. It would mean missing her flight, but she invited him up. Turns
out he didn't want head. He bent her over and took her up the ass. And he was
enormous - a freak of nature - cock the size of a cannon. Miss Summers had
found it difficult to sit on the late flight that she managed to book herself
on afterwards.

But she had saved the account. Gotten a lot of new business, as a matter of
fact.

And now she was on an overnight layover in Dallas. There was no seat on any
flight to California that she could get until late morning. At least she would
get a good night's sleep.

She dropped her bags by the front desk. A sleepy looking man wandered out from
the office and looked her up and down like she was a piece of meat. After the
client, Miss Summers was in no mood for the attention. "Summers," she sighed.
"I called for a reservation."

The man, who's nameplate read Chuck, looked her over again. "Summers," he
repeated as if he didn't believe that was her name.

"Yes," said Miss Summers. "And could we move this along. I'm exhausted."

"I don't believe you have a reservation, Mrs. Summers," said Chuck.

"Of course I do," she snapped. "Look in your computer. I called earlier
today."

"Don't you know there's a convention in town?" asked Chuck. "We're all
booked."

Miss Summers stepped up to the counter and glowered at Chuck. He was as tall
as she, but she was wearing three inch heels, so she looked down at him. "Just
check the damn computer, Chucky," she growled.

Chuck raised his eyebrows at her, just a bit intimidated. Then, as if he were
humoring a crazy person, he turned to the computer that sat on the lower
counter on his side of the front desk. He tapped a few keys. "Well, would you
look at that!" he said in mock amazement. "All booked up and no Summers
listed. If you want to call a cab, there is a payphone by the elevators."

How did he get this job? Miss Summers marveled. Probably somebody's nephew,
like Rodger! She instantly hated Chuck. "I don't want a fucking cab, Chuck. I
want my God Damn room!"

"Oh nice mouth," Chuck quipped. "There is no reason to get your panties in a
bunch, lady."

That was all Miss Summers could take. She slapped her hands down on the tall
counter and leaped. Her legs cleared the counter as Chuck stood with his mouth
gaping open. She planted her Italian pumps in his chest and pushed him to the
wall. He hit it so hard that he bounced back. When he came forward, Miss
Summers slammed a knee into his gut. Chuck buckled.

Miss Summers grabbed his tie and dragged his face onto the desk next to the
computer. She climbed onto his back like she was going for a horsy ride but
clamped her knees hard on either side of his skull.

Chuck tried to stand, but Miss Summers was no feather. She also grasped the
high ledge of the front desk and braced herself. Chuck was trapped.

"Get off me, bitch!" Chuck yelled.

Taking her time, Miss Summers wrapped one leg around Chuck's neck. She grabbed
her ankle and tugged, tightening that leg around his neck. It felt good to be
in control of this brainless man. He was going to pay for all the stupid
fucking men that had been getting in her way and using her lately.

Chuck gagged as Miss Summers tugged at her leg and sat on his back. It wasn't
much work for her at all. Chuck struggled for all he was worth, but managed
nothing. Eventually, he reached for the security button. Miss Summers saw this
and grabbed his wrist. She twisted his arm and trapped it with her other leg,
causing him more pain.

"Now let's see what we can do about getting me a room, shall we?" she cooed
from her perch. Chuck writhed and choked. "How do I look up open rooms on this
computer system?"

There was a pause. Miss Summers tightened her hold on Chuck's neck. "F2!" he
finally gasped.

"F. U.?" asked Miss Summers. "You have the nerve to tell me F. U.?" Miss
Summers doubled the pressure on Chuck's neck and arm.

"2! 2! F2!" Chuck squeaked.

"Oh! You mean those top keys? Let me try that ... Okay ... Here we go ... The
only room listed is something called the Penthouse Suite on the fourteenth
floor. Oh my god! That price cannot be right!"

"It takes up the entire floor," Chuck gasped. Miss Summers let up the pressure
a little so he could speak. "That's the price. That's why I didn't consider
it! But it is all we have! Now, please get up."

"But look here!" gasped Miss Summers. "There's a little button labeled 'rate
change' on the right. What happens if I ... " She clicked the button. A popup
appeared with a field to enter a new rate and a field to enter a security
code. "Hmmm ... let's make the new rate ... zero." She typed that in. "Now,
what is the security code?"

Chuck didn't answer.

Miss Summers grabbed a phone and banged it off the side of Chuck's face. "I
said, what is the security code?" she asked again sweetly.

Chuck told her. Miss Summers put down the phone and typed in the code.

"Good boy. Now it's asking me about breakfast. Let's just make it one of
everything, complimentary, shall we?" Miss Summers typed away as she sat on
Chuck. "To be sent up at 7:45 this morning ... That should do it."

She hopped up and stood behind Chuck. "Now, make me a key."

Chuck grabbed a pass card and stuck it in the machine to program it to unlock
the Penthouse Suite. Then he got a bright idea. He tried a surprise attack.

He got his hands around Miss Summers' neck. He backed her up against the wall
and strangled her. She grabbed his tie and drove her forehead into his eyes.
His hands went to his throbbing face. Miss Summers slammed a heel down onto
his foot. Chuck fell against the desk. Miss Summers still had him by the tie.
She pulled it tighter around his neck, choking him.

"No more dim-witted tricks, Chucky. Just make the fucking key."

Chuck made the key. "Here you go Mrs. Summers. Please enjoy your stay." He was
very contrite.

"That's Miss Summers, Chuck. Now, grab my bags." She stood with her arms
folded.

"But I have to stay at the front desk!"

Miss Summers pulled up on his tie, lifting Chuck to his toes with one hand so
that he was nose to nose with her. "What you have to do is whatever I tell you
to do. Got it?" she snarled in his face.

Chuck trembled. "Yes, Miss Summers. I'll get your bags," he gasped as he
dangled.

She let his feet settle on the floor and smiled sweetly at him. "Good boy."

When he had them in hand, Miss Summers grabbed his tie like it was a leash, or
the lead for a donkey, and led him to the elevators. They had to use the pass
card in the elevator because the entire top floor was Miss Summers' suite. The
elevator let them off at her foyer.

There were marble pillars and a fountain. In the room proper there were twelve
feet tall ceilings and actual works of art, not sofa paintings and
reproductions. The view from the arched windows showed glittering streetlights
and the occasional airplane. One of the bedrooms hade the biggest bed Miss
Summer's had ever seen.

"Put the bags over there," she waved a hand. Chuck did as told and made for
the exit. "Where do you think you're going, Chucky?" she asked.

"I ... I'm ... I just ... "

"You don't think I'm going to let you walk without having your pecker in my
pocket, do you?"

"What?" Chuck was shaking like a leaf.

"Give me your wallet," Miss Summers whispered as she stepped toe to toe with
Chuck.

"Why?"

"I want your address. I want to know I can hunt you down if you try to fuck me
over."

Chuck stepped back. Miss Summers matched him step for step. "No," he groaned.

Miss Summers smiled. "Are you saying you still have some fight left, Chucky-
boy? You sure don't look like it. You look to me like a quivering coward."

Chuck pushed hard into Miss Summers and made a break for it. She was on his
back in three steps. She dragged him to the ground like a lioness with an
antelope. She turned him over and sat on his chest, pinning his arms with her
legs. Her form-fitting business dress slid up her hips, revealing pink silk
panties. She smiled down at Chuck. Chuck flopped and strained to get free.

"It's just a matter of time, Chuck. You aren't nearly man enough to fight me."

Miss Summers smiled and bounced around until Chuck was covered in sweat and
gasping for air. He lay still. She moved her legs and fell back on his body.
She lifted her ass and pulled her panties off. Chuck was too exhausted to
move. Miss Summers dropped her ass back down on his chest.

"OOOOF!" The wind rushed from Chuck's lungs.

"You said something about me getting my panties in a bunch, didn't you Chuck?"

Chuck tried to deny it by shaking his head.

"Oh, I think you did. And here they are, in a bunch." She sniffed them.
"They're rather ripe by now. I've been wearing them ever since New York where
some big bastard fucked me up the ass. His come has been dripping out of me
the entire way here. Now I'm going to stuff them into your mouth, Chuck."

Chuck shook his head again. Fear flooded his face.

Miss Summers chuckled as she grabbed Chuck's nose, twisting it and clamping it
shut. She pressed the wet panties onto this lips. "Open up Chuck, or I'll
break you teeth! I'll snap your nose off!"

Chuck opened. She stuffed the panties in. "Don't you dare spit that out," she
warned. Chuck lay there, not daring. Miss Summers slipped off a nylon and used
it to tie the panties gag into place.

After that she used her other nylon to tie Chuck's hands together behind his
back. She rolled him over on his back and sat on his belly, facing his feet.
"Now, let's see that wallet."

Miss Summers emptied Chuck's pockets. She found three quarters, a box of
mints, two condoms, and a black tri-fold wallet. The wallet contained
thirty-two dollars, two credit cards, a picture of a dark haired woman and
Chuck's driver's license.

"Who's the doll, Chuck?" asked Miss Summers as she turned around to sit on his
chest looking down at his face. Her blonde muff tickled his chin. He could
smell her. She was aroused. "Is this your wife?"

Chuck nodded. The panties gag was doing a good job.

"Not bad, Chuck. Better than you deserve. How would she like it if I told her
about you and me? You know, about all those nights in the hotel when you
treated me to free rooms in exchange for sex?"

Chuck's eye got big. Miss Summers laughed. "She would believe me, you know. I
mean, look at me! You know you would fuck me if you had a chance. Am I right?"

Chuck had to nod his agreement.

Miss Summers tucked Chuck's wife's picture and his driver's license into her
bra. "I'll just keep these for the small chance that I might need to come back
and ruin your life. Do you know how to keep me from doing that, Chuck?"

He shook his head, no, but Miss Summers could see that she had his undivided
attention. He wanted to know what he could do to keep that from happening.

"You suck it up and take the hit for the room. It was approved using your
code. You admit that it was your idea, as a gesture of good customer service.
I don't care what it takes, but do not make me see any charges from this place
on my credit report. Got it?"

Chuck nodded emphatically.

"Good." She threw his wallet at his face and got up. She still had her pumps
on. Her dress was still riding up her hips. Her muff and buns were proudly
displayed. "Stand," she commanded.

Chuck did this the best he could with his hands tied. It took a while. Miss
Summers resisted the urge to knock his feet out from under him just as he was
almost up. Once he was up, she untied his. "Good boy, Chuck." She stroked his
cheek after removing her panties from his mouth. "You know, you're not such a
bad looker. And I could use a tension release. Follow me." She led him by his
tie over to a couch.

Miss Summers sat down and spread her legs. She pointed to her clam. "Eat me."
She commanded.

Chuck went right to work. It was the best customer service he ever gave. Miss
Summers came hard and wiped herself on Chuck's silk tie. "Very good, Chuck.
Your wife is a lucky girl. You may go now."

"Are you sure there's nothing else, Miss? Anything? Anything at all?"

Miss Summers looked at the bulge in Chuck's pants and laughed. "Sorry, Chuck.
Not tonight. I've had my fill of dicks for this trip." She placed a foot on
his shoulder and sent him sprawling.

Chuck stood, sighed, and started toward the door, shaking with desire and
humiliation.

"Oh Chuck? Just one more thing ... " Miss Summers slid up behind him. Her long
arms slid around him and rubbed his chest. One of her arms reached into his
pants, into his boxers, and her fingers fondled his balls.

"Oh my god!" he moaned.

She rolled Chuck's rocks around in her palm like soft dice. Her touch was
gentle and knowing. Chuck moaned with pleasure. He melted into her strong
arms. His boner throbbed. "You like this Chuck?" she purred into his ear. "You
like having your sweet little nuts in my hand?"

She crushed his testicles. Not near as hard as she could, but plenty hard
enough to drive Chuck to the floor. "How do you like it now, Chuck? Huh? You
like it now?"

Chuck opened his mouth like a landed fish. No sound came out.

"Just remember our deal," she cooed in his ear as she lay on top of him. "If I
have to come look you up, I'll not just going to ruin your marriage. I'll rip
your balls off and hide them in another time zone. I'll chop up your juicy
shlong and feed it to zoo animals, Chuck. You got that?"

Chuck gasped. He couldn't talk for the pain shooting up his sides.

Miss Summers got off of him once more. "Now you may leave."

Chuck crawled out on his belly. He barely made it.

Miss Summers left a lot of uneaten food in her suite the next morning. Chuck
had sent up a large display of flowers with a note of apology for his rude
behavior. Maybe I was a little hard on Chuck, she thought. He's not the root
of my troubles, after all. Why should I mash his balls just for being a jerk
while I let Rodger get away with stealing my job? I'll have to do something
about that.

She smiled at the memory of Chuck crawling out of the room, so easily
defeated. He was beaten before he even knew he was in a fight. The encounter
gave her confidence and nerve.

When she got back to headquarters, Miss Summers strode past Rodger's office
and burst into the CEO's inner office. He was an elderly bulldog of a man,
known to be a skirt chaser in his day.

"Max," she snapped. "We need to talk." She locked the door.

For a full hour, Miss Summers recounted her history with the company, proving
how she was the most valuable employee when it came to retaining customers and
finding new business. Max believed her because of the remarkable turn-around
from the client she had just spent time with.

Then she spend another hour talking about all the time she spent cleaning up
after Rodger's mistakes.

Then she sat on his desk. "Max," she said as she slowly spread her legs in
front of him. "If you want to keep seeing me around here, you are going to
fire that bum, Rodger, and give me his job. Do I make myself clear?" She let
him think about it as he gazed at her honey dripping quim. No panties.

Max seemed to be lost in thought. He began leaning in as if drawn to Miss
Summers' muff by a magnet. She took hold of his face and pulled it between her
thighs. Then she tilted it up to look at her face. "Fire Rodger, Max. Today.
As soon as I'm out of this office. Got it?"

Max nodded up at her with wide eyes. She patted his jowls. "Good boy, Max."
She crushed his face into her hair pie and patted the top of his head. "Good
little Max." She let him lick her clam for a while. He was good, but not as
good as Chuck. Eventually, she pushed him back into this big leather chair.
His boner was obvious. Miss Summers ignored it. "We can talk compensation
after I get back from a three week vacation."

"Very well, Miss Summers. I'll do as you say right away." Max searched his
pockets for his heart medicine.

Miss Summers stood and straightened her skirt. She winked at him, swiveled,
and strode out.

If I play him right, she thought, I'll own controlling stock in this company
after I make him die of a heart attack.