Athena Corp Chronicles
Chapter 3 -- Downsizing
* * * * *
<[ SIX WEEKS AFTER THE FALL ]>
"I don't like it" Ian muttered before taking a sip of his jet black coffee.
"Don't like what?" Marco asked in between bites of his reheated chicken parmesan.
The two sat in one of Athena Corp's many cafeterias. They were chatting over lunch, as they did most days. The talk of fellow co-workers buzzed around them. It was a cacophony of commiseration over the many drastic changes to the corporate hierarchy in recent weeks.
"What do you think I'm talking about?!? The shakeup! The layoffs. All of it."
Deep frustration was etched across his face. The middle aged financial analyst with short blonde hair was vexed. Ian was 5'10 with a medium build he kept trim with a careful diet and regular exercise. His well manicured beard and mustache showed only the first lines of white invading the otherwise golden mane decorating his square jaw. The man looked like he belonged on a viking long boat, but found himself in the boardrooms of corporate America, complete with suit and tie.
"It's standard restructuring. You had to know something like this was going to happen when Ms. Sins took over."
Marco, by contrast, was thin and wiry. He was 5'8 with short red hair, the curls of which persisted no matter which hairstyle he tried. Even now, with his auburn locks neatly combed into a handsome wave, the ends of many hairs coiled in protest. The marketing manager almost always bore a smile, even when he was having lunch with his dour friend.
Ian sighed. "Have you been paying attention to the announcements? Seen all the offices cleared out? So many gone with no good reason why. Almost all of them men. And it seems like they're all being replaced by women."
Marco smirked. "Yeah, but we've had way more male employees until now. So isn't that to be expected?"
Ian frowned at his coworker. To him, Marco had always seemed naive and overly friendly, but he was obviously good at his job or he wouldn't be there.
"Mr. Telos had a guiding philosophy for how this company should operate. He ran a tight ship. The people he hired were go-getters and visionaries. He didn't fire people, especially in management, unless they failed to perform. Everything we see now is in violation of those principles."
"That's one perspective" Marco replied. He took a sip of his bottled water before continuing. "But don't you think Ms. Sins has her own guiding philosophy? Her methods may prove to be just as effective. Besides, if you ask me, diversifying management was long overdue. Monoculture often leads to stagnation."
"Has the Athena corporation been
stagnating
in recent years?" Ian asked with raised eyebrows, daring him to answer in the affirmative.
"I didn't say that. I'm only suggesting we could be doing even better. The shakeup might be a positive thing in the long run. I know I'll be happy to have more women around and less cocky guys who would slit my throat for a promotion."
Ian scowled behind his mug. He drank deeply of the caffeinated brew before setting the cup down gently. He was disappointed in his long-time lunch companion, but not surprised. Marco's girlfriend had him whipped. Was it she that turned him into a feminist? A domineering mother? Or the silly liberal arts college he'd gone to?
Marco was almost ten years his junior. Ian hoped to provide guidance to the young man since befriending him, but the plucky redhead had proven remarkably rooted. Whatever his flaws, Marco was his own man, at least in the workplace. Ian had serious doubts that quality extended to his home life.
"I am not prejudging Ms. Sins. I know nothing of her philosophy because I know almost nothing of her
at all
. That's the point. I'm merely skeptical of this sudden volatility and radical change."
Marco put on his biggest grin, an expression he liked to wear when he was about to announce checkmate. He finished the last of his meat and pasta before letting the cutlery rattle into the microwave-safe dish.
"You respect Mr. Telos, yes? Doesn't that mean you should have some measure of confidence in his decision? He had to pick Ms. Sins for a reason. Unless you believe the rumor that he handed over his empire to nothing but a pretty face? But that would contradict everything you believe about him, would it not?"
Ian sighed again. This time he looked down and tried his best to summon a reasoned reply. He hated when the young man had a point.
"Even strong men falter, but I'm not going to assume that's what happened. What you say has
some
merit. In any case, I'll have a better idea what's going on after my interview. It seems I'm next on the chopping block. I meet with HR in one hour."
"No kidding? Good luck, man."
"Thanks" he said before draining what was his left of his coffee. His nose wrinkled as he looked at the empty dish in front of Marco. "I have to admit, that smelled pretty good."
"You want to try it? We could have you over for dinner."
"Sure. Why not? I can finally meet the woman of your dreams and sample her cooking."
"Actually, I'm the one who made the chicken parm" Marco responded. He folded his arms over his chest while his lips curled into a defiant smile. "I whipped it up for Gina and I a few nights ago. She loved it."
Ian chuckled and shook his head. He should've known. "I bet she did."
* * * * *
"Good job, ladies. I'll take it from here."
"Bye, Madam Snow!"
"Have fun, Headmistress!"
The two women who'd just spent the last six hours instructing Jake Telos smiled and waved before exiting. The front door of the condo clicked shut and the owner and proprietress of
Madam's Snow's Ivory Manor
turned and examined herself in the hallway mirror.
She'd
really
dressed the part today. Madam Snow wore a shiny, black PVC bodysuit that stretched all around her body from her shoulders to her boots. Veronica had developed a mild rubber allergy over the years, so she always went with PVC over latex. It cost more, but looked just as wonderful and required considerably less upkeep than traditional rubber fetish gear.
A black corset was cinched around her waist, its succulent leather matching the color of her high heeled boots. Three thick, red leather belts were buckled around both of her calves. In addition to giving her an especially severe look, they helped keep her boots nice and snug. With the help of an excellent personal trainer, she'd lost weight in recent years and some of her favorite boots were starting to feel loose on her.
On a necklace hanging just above her bust was a gleaming snowflake pendant. The frame of the expensive piece was silvery white metal with a brilliant sapphire at its center. The short snowflake petals rounding the interior each bore a sparkling diamond, while the end of each longer crystalline arm bore another small sapphire.
It amused her that
snowflake
had become a politically charged pejorative in recent years. Veronica had been wearing the pendant long before that. It had become her emblem ever since she'd earned the title '
Madam Snow
.' As she'd entered middle age and adopted the trademark platinum blonde that fit so well with her name, her legend had continued to grow. It was the perfect symbol for a woman of her traits and style of domination. Beautiful, elegant, cold, calm and perfectly capable of burying you.
Veronica examined her makeup in the mirror and struck a few dominant poses with her hands on her hips. She still looked damn good, in open defiance of her age. She was dressed in one of her favorite scandalous outfits because this was a day she'd been waiting for.
She was about to see an old friend for the first time in many years. Well, perhaps friend wasn't the right word. A dead and buried dalliance. A bygone companion. Perhaps, one might even say, an old flame.
The one who got away.
Not that Jake Telos was any great prize, especially in his current form, but maybe he'd have turned out better if Veronica had managed things differently.
No, it was foolish to ponder what might have been. To live in the past and second guess herself. It was simultaneously selfish and unfair to herself. It was better this way. Jake had become the ghoul he was meant to be. The titan of industry that only men with his morbid sociopathy and total emptiness could rise to be in the current world. If Veronica had dealt with him properly and kept him under heel, the door to greater things would not be open. Wisdom held that sometimes, the best thing that can happen to a person is to
not
get what they want.
Madam Snow grinned, her white teeth flashing in the reflection. She turned, seized her crop from the counter, hoisted her bags and headed down the corridor. She passed a bedroom and an empty playroom before stopping at the next converted play space in which her target was located.
There he was. Formerly the most rich and powerful man in the world, spread out on a bondage table with a pair of soiled panties stuffed in his mouth and a fat dildo protruding from his stretched pucker. He was naked, aside from the cock cage wrapped around his shriveled manhood. His arms and legs were bound firmly to the corners of the table.
Madam Snow strode in, her heels striking the floor as she made her way to the sprawled out submissive. Jake looked up and his eyes went wide when he saw who approached.
"Hello Jacob" she said casually before setting her things down. She leaned over the table, her sleek curves hovering over him and shining in the overhead light as she studied him up close. "So, you finally decided to stop pretending. To no longer hide the real you behind acquisitiveness and meaningless accolades. To once again embrace your true nature. That's good! I'm just glad I was ready when the time came."
She grabbed the purple panties sprouting between his teeth and pulled them out with a long slurp. He coughed and took a deep breath through his freed mouth. Jake's eyes were locked on hers.
"Veronica..."
*SMACK*
Her gloved hand shot out and slapped his face sideways. The stern Domina left scorching red finger marks across his left cheek.
"You know better than that."
Jake drank in the delicious ache from the woman he'd once called Mistress. He righted his vision, studying her lovely face and the glittering necklace danging from her cat-suited form. She'd grown older and her curves were less plump than he remembered, but she was no less strong or beautiful. The Headmistress had aged well.