Inside Job for Two | By : GrayNeko Category: -Misc Cartoons > General Views: 1117 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This work is a parody. I do not own Inside Job or any of the characters that belong to the series. No money was made from this story. |
Reagan Ridley sat at her desk at Cognito Inc., rubbing her temples before reaching out to activate a camera.
“It has been nine months since I took over as Chief Executive Officer of Cognito and aside from my initial meeting with the Robes, I have not heard from them despite my progress on the algorithm project. Things have been…rocky at the company and I’ve been doing my best to try to improve and help the world. My team has actually been helpful, productive even! Most of them are handling special assignments out of the office. I never thought I’d miss that pack of screwballs, but I’ve come to realize they’re the closest thing to a family that I could ask for.
“Still, with them gone and along with other things I’d rather not mention, I’ve been feeling…lower than usual, and it was starting to affect my performance with the company. To that end, six months ago, I decided to conduct a trial run of a new mixture of chemical compounds and gene therapy that is supposed to combat all forms of depression. Initial results have proven lackluster to the point where I’m not even sure it’s working.”
Reagan paused as she continued to stare into the distance, nibbling her lip nervously as her cheeks flushed and she rubbed her index finger against her prosthetic pinky. With a sharp inhale, she went on, “I have however, noticed an uptick of…odd dreams, though whether those are related to the treatment or just brought on from stress related to work, remains to be seen. I-”
A knock at the door stopped Reagan and she quickly shut the camera off as Brett Hand stepped inside. The last remaining member of her team had his usual chipper smile on and a stack of reports in his hands.
“Hey Hey, Reagan Bran! Got them project updates from across all the departments…”
Reagan only paid half a mind to what Brett was saying, she just needed to bask in his upbeat attitude and hope some of it rubbed off on her. That train of thought took an odd turn as she suddenly began to imagine Brett coming around her desk and physically rubbing himself against her.
What was wrong with her?! She never thought of Brett like that, even if he was in incredible shape, with a handsome face and kind eyes. She didn’t fight the daydream though, even as she imagined him leaning close and whispering in her ear.
“You know Reagan, you have such a pretty mouth, perfect for sucking cocks."
“Wait! What?!” Reagan shouted, her instincts kicking in as her hand lashed out and slapped Brett full across the face.
Brett fell onto his back, curling up defensively as he looked up at Reagan in shock.
“I just said Summer has the pretty months, perfect for skipping rocks!” Brett said as he slowly uncurled and stood back up, fixing his tie as he tilted his head. “Was that some sort of Manchurian activation code or are you just a Spring girl?"
“I’m so, so sorry, Brett. I don’t know what happened. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately,” Reagan said as she drew back from him into her chair as if she had been the one slapped.
“Really? You can’t tell. The bags under your eyes are barely noticeable compared to when we first met,” Brett said as he heedlessly leaned in close, making Reagan feel sweat bead up and down her back.
“Forget it. I still shouldn’t have hit you,” Reagan said as she turned her chair to face him. “How can I make it up to yo-” SLAP!!!
The slap across her face stunned Reagan. But Brett didn’t stop there, he grabbed her by her lab coat and threw her down onto her desk before ripping her pants down and her panties with them.
“Brett!! What the fuck are you DOING?!” Reagan cried out before his weight pressed down on her. “Wait! NO-!”
“I think I know exactly how you can make it up to me, Reagan,” Brett said sinisterly as his cockhead pressed at her entrance before his cock slammed into her pussy.
“Ach!!” Reagan choked out while internally screaming, Oh, god, his cock was so big! Reagan continued to gasp and sputter as Brett began thrusting savagely, rocking her against her desk. Her nails raked at the desk for purchase but it was a futile effort as Brett grabbed one of her wrists and twisted her arm behind her back, using it for leverage to fuck her even harder.
Brett’s other hand explored Reagan’s body, pushing up her lab coat and shirt as he roamed to reveal more of her skin.
“Ooh, ‘Mommy Likey Drinky’?” Brett read out loud as he rediscovered Reagan’s tramp stamp. “Well, Daddy Likey Spanky!” Brett crowed before slapping Reagan’s ass and making her growl.
“Grrrrrrr, BRETT! IF YOU DON'T STOP RIGHT NOW I’M GONNA RIP YOUR BRAIN OUT OF YOUR SKULL AND THEN PSYCHOANALYZE IT!" Reagan roared, hoping to scare some sense into him.
“Kiiiinnkyyyyy!~” Brett then whistled, punctuating it with another slap to Reagan’s ass. This time Reagan let out a sound that she was neither familiar with nor proud of.
“Ahhhhn!” Reagan nearly bit the tip of her tongue off as she tried to fight back that moan.
It seemed just the thing Brett was looking for as he leaned over Reagan and groaned as searing heat suddenly flared in her depths. She felt pulse after pulse as Brett shuddered and thrust with each burst until he sagged slightly and she could feel cum beginning to dribble from her pussy.
“You…fucking…basta-!” Reagan’s curse was cut short as Brett pushed himself up and pulled his cock free. The shock of its girth missing from her tunnel made Reagan inhale sharply and then she was grunting as Brett began to manhandle her again.
He grabbed her by her short ponytail, bending her backwards until he had lifted her off the desk. Brett displayed his impressive physique as he grabbed Reagan by the neck while his other hand dipped between her legs and he shoved several fingers inside her before lifting her off the ground. Reagan choked as she went airborne and then the air was driven from her as she landed roughly on her desk, this time on her back facing Brett.
“You should clean the messes you make, Reagan,” Brett said as he grabbed his cum-smeared cock and waved it in her face.
Reagan tossed her head back and forth defiantly with her lips sealed before Brett grabbed her ponytail again and forced her head back painfully. Reagan couldn’t help gasping and then she was gagging on his cock as he forced it down her throat.
“Hlrk! Glrk! Gulk!” Reagan gurgled wordlessly, unable to understand what was happening. Shock, shame, outrage, all assaulted her mind just as Brett assaulted her body, but beneath them there was a current of…arousal? What was that even about?!
“Reagan. Reagan. Reagan,” Brett moaned her name over and over as he pumped his hips until his cock was stiffening again.
“Reagan!” Brett cried out as a wave of cum poured down her throat.
“Go, Reagan! You can do it!”
Reagan blinked and nearly choked as the world suddenly shifted and she wasn’t in her office, but some sort of restaurant. And she wasn’t choking on Brett’s dog, but a footlong hotdog! The roar of more cheers drowned out her own thoughts and her throat muscles kept swallowing reflexively. She went cross-eyed watching the last of the hotdog disappear past her lips. With one last swallow, she sat up from the table she’d been laying on and immediately went into a coughing fit.
“Holy crap, Reagan, I had no idea you could handle a beefy foot long so well!” Brett said as he came up and patted her on the back.
Reagan looked around wildly, suffering a moment of overstimulation at the cacophony of noise and multitude of flashing lights. Strangely, as Brett’s face filled her vision, she found herself able to focus and calm down.
“This has been an awesome night! Thanks so much for agreeing to come with me to Dave and Busters! The coolest place for all single dads everywhere!”
“Uh, right. Did I win anything just now?” Reagan asked as she ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure out what just happened.
“Only the respect and admiration of all these hooting step-dads!” Brett said excitedly, gesturing to a pack of balding men in khaki shorts and button-up shirts who cheered and raised their beers to Reagan.
“Cooooool,” Reagan mumbled before being jostled as Brett put his arm around her.
“I’ve never been happier spending a thousand dollars to win an Icee slushy maker!” Brett said as he cradled the item in his other arm and reached up to wipe away a tear. “I’ll cherish it forever!”
“Wow, we really lived it up, didn’t we?” Reagan said weakly as her stomach did flips and she wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the hotdog she’d just swallowed whole.
“Yeah, we did,” Brett said fondly, “I haven’t seen anyone handle meat like that since my frat days! But I should probably get you home. Can’t have the boss hungover in the morning.”
“Wouldn’t be much different from how my father or J.R. ran the company, but I suppose you’re right,” Reagan said, trying not to sound too relieved at the idea of leaving the seizure inducing atmosphere of Dave and Busters
During the walk home, Reagan was able to slowly piece together that Dave and Busters had been her idea as an apology. The fact that she had no memory of leaving or any of the partying was troubling, the hardcore pornographic hallucination about her best friend had her on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
The only thing that seemed to keep her anchored in the moment was Brett’s presence beside her, which made no sense given that she had just imagined him violating her in some of the worst ways possible. Despite that, Reagan slowly realized there was no place she’d rather be than right beside him at that moment.
They finally reached the steps of her house and Brett surprised her by following her up to her door. As she got the door unlocked, Brett grabbed her shoulders and spun her around before kissing her.
Shock registered first, but after so many vivid hallucinations, Reagan decided trying to fight these phantasms wasn’t worth the effort and she returned the kiss. Brett’s arms enveloped her and she wrapped hers around his neck, enjoying the fantasy of his body’s warmth. As the long seconds passed and Reagan waited for the waking dream to end, she began to realize there was a subtle difference between this and her previous hallucinations.
As his tongue slipped past her lips, the taste of stale beer and greasy food greeted her and somehow she knew, not even in her wildest, most fucked up fantasy, would she want that taste in her mouth. She pulled away from Brett and stared at him in utter horror.
“Whoa, what the fuck, Brett!” Reagan shouted as she pushed him away and he nearly fell down her steps.
“What?!” Brett exclaimed as he threw his hands up defensively. “Before we got to Dave and Busters you specifically said, and I quote 'No matter what, make sure to kiss me on the steps of my house at the end of the night!' You're not going to hit me again, are you? My cheeks get tender."
Reagan stared at Brett as he cringed behind his hands, a million thoughts racing through her head. She was desperately trying to put the pieces of the night’s events together into a picture that made sense while weighing the cost benefit of slapping Brett again.
“Nnnnoooooo,” she finally managed to choke out before continuing in a much more light-hearted tone. “No, you know me, just…forgetting stuff all the time. Anyway, thank you for walking me home, Brett. Ireallyhadfunseeyouatworkbye!”
Reagan bolted through the door, leaving Brett to stare confusedly at the space she’d been standing on a moment ago. Reagan leaned against the door as she tried to catch her breath and fight the urge to sink to the floor and curl into a ball.
“What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!” Reagan whispered to herself over and over again as she pushed off the door and began to pace through her apartment. What had just happened?! Why had THAT part been real? Was not inviting Brett in the right thing to do?!
Reagan realized her feet had carried her to her work desk, which she suddenly noticed wasn’t covered in takeout containers for once. She sat and kicked off her shoes before reaching out to turn on a camera identical to the one in her office.
“Status update. The side effects of the depression treatment may be more extreme and far reaching than I initially theorized. Further analysis is…”
Reagan trailed off as she glanced down and frowned. She bent down and came back up into the camera’s view with one of her sneakers.
“When the FUCK did I start wearing heeled sneakers?!?” Reagan asked herself as she examined the platform shoe. “And why were they so comfortable that I didn’t notice….and why’s my lab coat so loose in the front?”
***
Notes
***
This work was made in collaboration with MrSwindle94 - https://twitter.com/MrSwindle94?s=20&t=g-aZ0ecX70kvzyTWS0Linw
We also had a cover made for our story by the awesome NSFAni and Swindle colored it: https://x.com/MrSwindle94/status/1708588498230382849?s=20
Review Response and Discussion Thread: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/57397-graynekos-review-response-and-discussion-thread/
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