Marcus sat there, just waiting. He was in one of the many overly stylised and even more overly priced hotels in London. Lots of wood. Lots of exposed brick. He gazed out of the window, sipping a cool pint in the crowded and extremely hot bar. Content.
After a few minutes, he drew up the sleeve of his well fitted suit jacket and checked his watch. 5:58pm. She’d almost certainly arrive in the next 60 seconds. If his interactions with her over the phone were anything to go by, she was not the type to be late.
Right on cue, in walked a woman that put the others present at the bar to shame. Her height was about the only average thing about her. The clothes she wore, which included a dark blazer, were clearly chosen with the intention of reducing the impact of her striking appearance. Marcus took a mental note of that as he rose to greet her.
“Miss. Moore, lovely to finally meet you.” He extended his hand, ready for her approach. Nice and professional.
“Mr. Contro, the pleasure is mine.” She gripped his hand as he looked her up and down. Marcus absorbed everything about her, as he always does with someone of interest. The art of persuasion required information. Data. Once he knew enough about someone, what many would call his ‘powers of persuasion’ had yet to find their limits.
“Please, take a seat.” He deliberately instructed her. They sat opposite each other, the fading light from the window catching her notable figure. “I hope your journey here was pleasant.” She smiled as she got comfortable.
“Somewhat, thank you. Business class is not what it used to be.”
“Sorry to hear it was less than perfect. I assure you though, the rooms here are.” Marcus gestured with his hand, indicating perfection.
“I certainly hope so.” She looked at him with the expectation that he would commence their business. Marcus offered a grin, before reaching for a briefcase below the table. Inside, he revealed numerous bars of teal shaded soap. The woman eyed them up and down. “May I?” She asked.
“Of course.” Marcus reached in and handed her a bar, slightly stroking her hand as he did. She noticed this and was about to bring it up when he spoke. “It’s important to stay clean.”
“What?” She said, distracted by the packaging and his statement.
“It’s important to stay clean.” He repeated with a playful grin, pointing at a leaflet. “Our slogan.”
“Oh.” she looked up to the leaflet. “That’s…” her mind took a moment to catch up. “…that’s your slogan? Seriously?”
“You don’t like it?” he replied. His confidence unshaken.
“This is meant to be a luxury product, for intelligent, high-earning women.” she snapped back. “So no, I don’t.”
“That’s a shame.”
“You really thought that **that** would work as a slogan?”
“Let’s move past that, maybe it will grow on you.” He sipped his drink and returned another smile. “I’m certain it will.”
“Well, I’m doubtful. I hope you’re not here to waste my time, Mr. Contro.”
“Of course not. And, please, call me Marcus.”
“Well, Marcus, shall we discuss numbers?”
“Numbers. Yes,” he looked to the file he’d brought, before looking her up and down. Is a successful sale all he wanted from her? He hadn’t expected someone so… well, like her.
“Let’s talk about you, first,” he said confidently.
“Talk about me?”
“I like to know about the people I may go into business with, you understand.”
“I understand, of course.” She adjusted herself. She should have expected a professional would want to know more, although he was the one meant to be selling himself and his product. The onus was on him here. Nevertheless, she remained professional.
“What would you like to know?”
“How long have you held your position in product acquisitions?”
“A year, next week”. She was proud of that point. She’d overcome a lot of resistance from her superiors. Eventually though, her class shined through.
“Just a year? I see.” Marcus replied, looking down to his notes as if disappointed.
“For a 24 year old, that’s quite something,” she declared, eager to defend her pride.
“You must be very determined. Driven.” Marcus refused to dwell on the point.
“I like to think so. Are you?”
“You’re a perfectionist.” Marcus grinned, refusing to give up his role of conversation leader.
“Is that a flaw, Marcus?” she felt the need to justify and defend herself.
“Tell me about your philosophy. How do you like to do business?” He replied with such speed that her mind was forced to divert its attention to his questions. She had no capacity to notice his dodging.
“Well,” she pondered. She did have a certain way of doing business, she was proud of that. That said, she never got the chance to explain it out loud and had to formulate it in her head.
“Tell me.” he instructed as she mentally prepared her statement.
“I believe in honesty, professionalism and people sticking to their lane. A well organised and properly delegated business is a successful one. There’s no room for cutting corners or individuals going off and doing something experimental or unrequested. I like it ‘by the books’.” She finished and wished she worded it better. Surprisingly to her, she was keen to hear his judgement.
“I agree. You’re big on hierarchy.” He replied.
“Yes.”
“People should be obedient, do as they are instructed.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. Every response he delivered was quick. She was used to controlling the flow of conversation, a trailblazer, but she was just trying to keep up with him. He was so on point. So quick with each reply. What did he say?
“Yes, I agree.” she finally said.
“I’m glad you agree with me,” he said, smiling. “Easier that way, isn’t it.” he added, half jokingly.
“Yes.” She let out a singular giggle.
Marcus leaned forward as he spied an opportunity. She was responding well so far, to his cadence. You see, Marcus doesn’t have any powers. There was nothing supernatural going on. Just language. Misdirection. People like to do what they’re told, once that’s established as what they’re already doing. They get into rhythms, into a pattern. Of course, you can’t just do it upfront. She, for example, loves telling people what to do. She would resist any overt form of instruction. But if Marcus can misdirect, like a pickpocket, he can take what he pleases. It’s just quick wordplay, keeping the mind engaged on several things at once. He’s no hypnotist, no wielder of magic. He’s a confidence trickster. And an opportunity to progress things was approaching from behind the conservative woman.
“You will do as I instruct.” He said, clear as day.
“Excuse m-” she began, confused.
“Ah!” said Marcus, pointing to the waitress that had just reached their table. Cutting her off and causing her to look over her own shoulder. “I didn’t get you a drink Ms- sorry what was your name again?” The question timed with the sudden appearance of the waitress left her off balance.
“Megan.” she said, orientating herself in her chair. Marcus smiled as Megan looked down to the drinks menu. Marcus turned to the waitress.
“She’ll have a double vodka and coke.” he said, assertively. The waitress smiled and turned away, before Megan could even emerge from the menu.
“Actually I-” Megan went to get her attention, but once again Marcus had caught it.
“Eh!” He said, abruptly stopping Megan in her tracks. She turned to him, surprised at how rude that was.
“You have a little bit of dirt, right here” He gestured to his own neck. She looked at him, her mouth now open slightly. “What did I say, it’s important to stay clean!”
“Ha, right.” She said, removing a mirror from her bag and inspecting her neck. Marcus lent forward and removed the menu from her hand, which she allowed seamlessly. He noticed that she dealt with the focus being on her appearance by becoming a bit reclusive. A pressure point.
“You look very warm.” He said as she scrubbed away at nothing. “Bit red.”
“It is warm, I need that drink.” She took off her blazer and Marcus finally got a look at just how much her white shirt bulged when holding in her breasts. Finally satisfied, she returned the mirror. As she did so, she undid a few buttons and gazed longingly at his drink.
“Where were we?” asked Marcus. Megan wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
“Oh, erm. It’s important to say clean!” She replied, with the only thing she could recall about the product.
“Yes, very important.” said Marcus. “The most important thing in the world of business, really.”
“Of course.”
“And I’m glad you’re very satisfied with the numbers we discussed.”
“The numbers?”
“Our projections, the margins etc. This is basic stuff, Megan.” Megan stole her mind away and tried to recall what numbers he had presented. She couldn’t. She leant forward slightly, rubbing her neck.
“Of course, the projections. Very impressive.”
“Sit up straight, Megan.” She corrected her posture immediately. “You said you’d love to hear more.”
“Yes, I’d love to.” she nodded her head, staring at him. Something about her was slightly different now. She lacked the presence she commanded when she arrived. Her stern upper lip was now loose, her mouth slightly open. She’d barely been able to discuss the product… and she’d love to hear more. Marcus went to speak, before checking his watch.
“Ah, is that the time?” it was 6:11pm, their meeting had barely begun. “I’m afraid I must be going.” He rose to his feet and began to collect his materials.
“Really, so soon?” Megan was flustered. Normally, this would be an outrage. She’d flown from France for this. The rage didn’t appear though. Instead, she wanted more time to hear about the product. They’d only spoken about her and it didn’t even seem like he was impressed. “Surely you can stay longer?”
“Afraid not.”
“Let’s talk about marketing. It’s important to stay clean. We could discuss that?”
“Sorry, darling.” he was packed now. “Tell you what, why don’t you take more time to think about it tonight. Really think about what I’ve said. Let it bounce around a bit. Maybe I’ll get back in touch.”
“Right.” Megan held back. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself and beg. She could try and process things more clearly tonight. Marcus passed her, heading for the exit. As he did, he stopped, just slightly behind her.
“Oh, what’s your room number?” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder as she gazed forward at his empty seat.
“Room number? Wh-”
“For the bill.” he said. His charismatic tone had fallen to assertiveness.
“Oh, right. 309” she said.
“Wonderful, good girl.” He was gone. Megan sat there, mouth hanging slightly open, trying to replay his words. She really needed that drink.
**CHAPTER TWO**
Megan sat up on her bed, motionless. It was taking considerable effort to even process the sequence of the conversation she had partook in at the bar. She’d flown in to see this product, to grill the seller. She’d planned to return tomorrow with news that the product just wasn’t up to scratch. She had built a reputation on being hard to please, on seeing every flaw and through every lie that a dodgy salesman dare’d spin her. However, this attitude had led to very few products being acquired since her promotion. So when this call came, her boss all-but demanded she meet with Marcus. She did so, because she believed it’s important to follow instructions. That much was clear to her.
She sighed. She wanted to hear more about the product. It had seemed cheap and silly at first, but the numbers were really solid. And the slogan had been bouncing around her head for the last two hours. It’s important to stay clean. It really was. The slogan may be simplistic and a bit to the point, but it really does stick with you. She continued to sit there, her shirt still unbuttoned, now without her trousers. Should she call him and ask to meet tomorrow? Was it worth it? He seemed so hard to impress.
A knock came from her hotel room’s door. Still thinking it over, she wandered to the door and swung it open. There stood Marcus, still in his suit, standing over her. She gazed at him, mouth hanging open. Now was her chance to hook him in, to convince him to sell. She summoned up all of her self-worth. All of her confidence and power.
“Marcus, I really think tha-” she was silenced by Marcus’ finger on her lips.
“Look at you.” he scanned her neck and moved her shirt’s collar around. “You’re filthy.” She remained frozen, suddenly self-conscious. All of the power she’d mustered up, all of her years walking all over these guys, it meant nothing. “Go in and sit down.” he said. His charm had dissipated. He was talking to her like an ill-behaved child.
She turned and moved to the foot of her bed, where she sat. Marcus followed her in, closing the door behind him. He moved further in and stood opposite her, briefcase in hand. He towered over the woman, who was now gazing towards his stomach, unable to meet his eyes. He let her settle, for just a moment.
“Explain yourself.” he said.
“Marcus I-.”
“Where has your business etiquette gone? Look me in the eyes and use the name I gave you on the phone, Megan.” he ordered.
“Mr. Contro, I can only apologise if you feel I didn’t conduct myself correctly. Please, accept my apology… perhaps we can discuss the product?” This time, Marcus wasn’t quick to react. He let her sit with her own words, considering his options. He looked down at the woman, now subservient and desperate. All of his planted statements had worked as well as he could have hoped for. Little nuggets that rattled round her mind, subconsciously building him up as the authority. He could close the sale right here. It would be easy.
But, Marcus… he was always one step ahead. And that? That would be too easy.
He shifted his demeanor once again, back to the charming man that Megan had met and now missed. His stance became less rigid and the smile returned to his face.
“Megan, Megan baby.” He lent down beside her as she looked to him with hope. “You’re better than this, aren’t you?”.
“I am? I am.” she returned. She hung on every branch he offered.
“You just made a mistake.”
“I did?”
“You don’t see it? Oh dear, Megan.”
“What? What is it? Tell me, please?”
“Don’t you know that first impressions are everything in business? That you have to dress for success?”
“Of course!” She looked down at herself, her shirt showing considerable cleavage and her large ass pressed against the bed.
“Do you? Because you turned up to our meeting covered in dirt, just filthy, and now you’re trying to conduct a meeting in nothing but a shirt and panties.” His tone was still assertive, but now gentle as well. Instead of demanding, he simply guided her from thought to thought. She sat there, thinking. She no longer cared about the product, she just wanted to repair her reputation. To redeem herself, in his eyes. “What have I been telling you all night?” he asked.
“It’s important to stay clean!” she exclaimed as if delighted that she got the right answer.
“Exactly. Why don’t we fix that, Megan?” he rubbed the non-existent dirt on her neck. She considered for a moment.
“Yes. We should fix it,” she agreed, sitting with her hands on her lap.
“Excellent.” Marcus shifted to the desk and planted his briefcase, taking out a bar of soap. He looked at her, waiting. She racked her brain for something to say, he was clearly waiting for her. There was only one thing on her mind.
“It’s important to stay clean.” she said once again, standing up. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt entirely. Her tits barely sunk, still firm. No thoughts of concern even crossed her mind as she dropped her panties to the floor and stood, motionless. Marcus’ eyes locked to her breasts. He didn’t expect those.
“Megan, your tits are filthy. Get them cleaned up.” She looked down to her breasts and squeezed them, concerned. He handed her the soap and she immediately headed to the bathroom. Marcus watched her bounce as she walked away and then turned back to his briefcase. He shuffled through some papers, looking for the order form.
Sat at the desk, he placed the pen down. He’d finished the form, he just needed her signature. He made his way to the bathroom. Megan lay in the bath, scrubbing herself with the soap. She seemed more relaxed now, happy to be getting her act together. He watched her scrub her tits. They glistened.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you how to wash?” he said, looking down at her.
“Am I doing it wrong?” she looked up, eager to impress.
“Give me the soap.” he reached out his hand and she gave it to him. She slid around, getting to her knees and turning to him. She held up her tits in her hands, presenting them for a wash. Marcus started with the soap and then just used his hands. He noticed her biting her lip, just slightly. Her standards in men have prevented anyone getting near these for some time, but here he was, slowly titillating her. As she enjoyed it more and more, she pressed her tits further into his hands and started to breath more audibly.
Just as he got the sense she was enjoying, he stopped. “Look at this,” he said, extending his finger. “It’s filthy now.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her mouth around it, sucking it clean. Her enthusiasm didn’t waver as she continued back and forth for a while. She was reved up. She wanted him. His authority. His expertise.
“Right.” Marcus withdrew his hand and returned to the bedroom. “Get in here and sign this thing.” She seemed upset, breathing heavily. She exited the bath, dripping wet, and moved back over to the desk. She tried to get his attention on the way, but he appeared unresponsive. Marcus was responsive, on the inside, he enjoyed seeing her move like that. But he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, there was more to be gained by waiting. By making her wait. Making her come back.
She signed her name, bent over deliberately, with her ass pushed out. He took the paper and handed her another. “This one’s your copy.” he said. She began signing it as he gave her ass a squeeze. She loved it.
When she looked up, she was devastated to find him at the door to the corridor.
“Where are you going?” she called out, striking a pose to entice him.
“Sorry Megan, you’ve exhausted my stock.” He grinned at her efforts. “But… you’re gonna come back next week and buy more… aren’t you?” That would have to do. She could see him next week, she could come more prepared.
“I’ll buy more next week.” she smiled, arching her back to push out her features.
“Good girl,” he tossed the soap to her. “Think of me when you use it.” With a final grin, he disappeared.
Megan held the soap, aching with need. Smirking, she ran to the bathroom to practice.
**HOTEL HYGIENE – By InfluenceMan**
**This is the first MC short story that I’ve written, you read can the others I’ve written since here:** [https://www.patreon.com/InfluenceMan](https://www.patreon.com/InfluenceMan)
I’ll be releasing more, 2-4 times per month. Let me know what you thought :)
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gevsnc/hotel_hygiene_salesman_manipulates_uptight