Chapter 14: The moment Roger hits 'play', the boardroom screen flickers to life showing a masked woman's body being stretched by novelty condoms - her muffled whimpers fill the room as Mri whispers, 'That's your wife taking the XL size, brother,' just loud enough for Roger's cock to twitch in his slacks.
The harsh fluorescents of the boardroom gleamed off the polished mahogany table, reflecting the tense, expectant faces of the executives seated around it. Roger stood at the head, pointer in hand, radiating a nervous energy mixed with triumph. "Gentlemen," he began, clicking the remote, "Pure Lust isn't just a condom line; it's the raw, unfiltered id of desire made tangible." The first slide flickered onto the screen: a stark, high-definition close-up of a latex-covered cock, veins prominent, tip glistening subtly. Murmurs of approval rippled through the room.
Mri, leaning against the wall beside the projector controls, watched Roger with detached amusement. His thumb hovered over the zoom button. Roger clicked again. "Behold," he announced, voice thick with pride, "our anonymous, masked muse. The embodiment of pure, anonymous craving." The screen filled with Betty, kneeling on all fours on a sterile white surface, her identity hidden by the same rigid plastic mask from the restroom. Her back was arched deeply, presenting her ass, glistening with lube. A thick, ridged black dildo, mockingly branded with the Pure Lust logo, was buried deep in her pussy. "Note the primal presentation," Roger instructed, oblivious, gesturing towards the obscene stretch of her labia around the toy. "Visceral. Uncompromising."
Mri tapped his control. The image zoomed with brutal precision, the lens focusing mercilessly on the swollen, dark pink rim of her anus. Roger, mistaking the sudden close-up for dramatic emphasis, pressed on. "And here, the ultimate testament to Pure Lust's commitment to all forms of penetration..." His voice trailed off slightly as the zoom tightened further, revealing in grotesque detail the puckered starfish, glistening with more lube. One of the executives, Carl, shifted uncomfortably, his eyes wide. "Jesus, Roger," he muttered under his breath, "that's... explicit."
"Precisely!" Roger beamed, misinterpreting the discomfort. "We shatter taboos. We embrace the animal within." Mri’s thumb moved again. The image shifted laterally, following the curve of Betty’s ass cheek down to where the base of the dildo protruded obscenely from her cunt. Then, with agonizing slowness, Mri zoomed back in, this time on her other hole. The projector whirred, magnifying every minute fold, every glistening smear surrounding her tight, unused asshole. "The potential," Roger continued, his voice thick with oblivious fervor, "is limitless. Pure Lust promises entry into the most forbidden zones." Betty, seated rigidly in a chair beside Mri, her knuckles white where she gripped the armrests, felt a hot flush of utter degradation crawl up her neck beneath her professional blouse. She stared fixedly at the table, the image of her own exposed, vulnerable body seared onto the massive screen.
Mri’s smooth voice cut through the heavy silence. "Observe the tissue compliance, gentlemen," he stated coolly, his finger tracing the outline of her asshole on the screen image. "Note the readiness. Pure Lust facilitates exploration without compromise." He zoomed fractionally closer, the pixelated image showing the faintest quiver of her sphincter muscle. "Wouldn't you agree, Roger, the visual speaks of... eager acceptance?" Roger, caught up in the perceived success of his campaign, nodded vigorously. "Absolutely, Mri! It screams untamed hunger! Raw, unfiltered need." A strangled sound, almost a whimper, escaped Betty’s throat, instantly drowned out by Roger’s enthusiastic pointer tapping the screen right over the magnified image of her anus. "This," he declared, "is the future of intimacy. Pure Lust. No holes barred." The executives exchanged loaded glances, a mixture of shock, prurient interest, and dawning realization about the 'anonymous' model. Applause began, hesitant at first, then building, as Roger soaked in his apparent triumph, grinning broadly, utterly blind to the image of his wife’s meticulously violated body dominating the boardroom wall. Mri’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk as his eyes met Betty’s downcast ones. The projector hummed, keeping her shame illuminated for all to see.