Job Security
Chapter 1
As she headed uptown in the yellow taxicab, Kat wondered about the unusual request from Mr. Curtis the day before. It was a Saturday about 8 o'clock on a bright and sunny Manhattan morning. The City had been going through a bit of a summer cold spell with the mornings only reaching into the high sixties. Still, she knew the weather would heat up throughout the day, so she didn't accessorize with a sweater or jacket.
Watching "The City" come to life was always enjoyable for Kat as it contrasted with the hustle and bustle of mid-day and nighttime. Things were quieter now, which gave her some time with her thoughts. Why had Mr. Curtis asked her to meet him at a hotel room on a Saturday morning? She had worked weekends with him before but this time he asked her to "dress for success" and "pay attention to every detail," whatever that meant. She thought long and hard about what he meant when he said, "This will be the most important meeting of your career with Quasar Corporation, and you should prepare very seriously for it." In the past, his euphemism "prepare" meant that she should dress up, slightly sexy but not slutty, so the prospective clients that Mr. Curtis was meeting would ogle her and maybe take less of a hardline during their negotiations. It had worked well in the past but today, this Saturday morning, there were no customers or prospects scheduled. And to meet away from the office, at a hotel no less, was very unusual.
Kat had heard rumors that Quasar was going through a "challenging" financial period. She was an Executive Assistant, or EA, one of two that directly supported Mr. Curtis, the CEO. Kat did not understand finance, or even general business for that matter. But, she did know that if the company didn't generate enough sales and couldn't pay its bills it would be bad for her. She was paid over $100,000 per year to make sure that Mr. Curtis could do his job. Her job was to help him be successful, whatever it took. In concert with Gabriella, or Gabby, as everyone called her, they worked together to make Mr. Curtis' life easy, even running his personal errands if it meant he could spend more time on the high-level business deals that the company needed successfully completed in order to survive.
Just about to turn thirty years old, Kat was quite the looker. A shoulder-length brunette, she was long and lean: almost six feet tall and maybe 125 pounds, soaking wet. Her social life, and her self-confidence, improved immensely about five years ago when she had her boob job performed by one of the best plastic surgeons in Manhattan. But that had set her back financially. Even making $100K per year, in Manhattan she was far from rolling in it, and she had racked up significant credit card debt. She needed her job badly lest she be out on the street in a heartbeat.
She thought about the day when Phil Curtis hired her three years ago. Gabby had already been working for him but he needed a second assistant to keep up with his needs and with the growing business that he had founded about ten years prior. Although she had decent work experience, she had not been a super star in her past jobs, by any stretch. She always seemed to do just enough to get by and to keep getting her raises. But she had the suspicion that Mr. Curtis also hired her for her looks and demeanor. During her interview, she caught him staring once at her crossed legs and twice at her cleavage, almost as if he was trying to look through her sheer blouse and lacey bra and could imagine the roundness of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples. She had to admit, though, she liked that he was staring at her. Although they were both competent, both she and Gabby were beautiful women and Mr. Curtis liked to show them off.
She admitted to herself that she accepted the job mostly for the undressing gaze she received that day from Phil Curtis. That, and the $100,000 annual paycheck, not including the bonus. She quickly raced through all of the times she had fantasized about him after seeing him walk by her in his tight Armani slacks. She recalled the time when she was in the ladies' restroom doing just that...fantasizing. About how she wanted someday to go to a place where she could give herself completely, no matter what the cost. At times she felt as though the place she went to was so dark that she couldn't even explain it—and certainly never share her thoughts with her friends or even lovers for fear that they would either laugh or find her repulsive. Dare she say it—she wanted to be controlled, almost owned. To be so submissive that she would have to ask permission to cum. To be so submissive that she would do anything that was asked of her, even those things she had never done before in real life. Actually, she hoped that she was asked to, no, told to, do those things that she had never done before. To willingly give up herself, to give up any and every hole he wanted. Only then could she truly have given all of herself to someone.
She recalled that one day in the bathroom stall with her panties around her ankles, her bra pulled down just far enough so that her rock-hard nipples pointed due east and her fingers pushed far into her wet dripping pussy—first one finger, then two, and even three, trying to take the place of a cock, a big throbbing cock. For a flash she thought to herself: "I need a cock right now. I would take any cock. If someone stuck their cock in this bathroom stall right now, I would suck it, and fuck it, no matter who it was attached to."
Chapter 2
She recalled early that morning, as she prepared herself for her meeting, spending extra time in the shower. She made sure her hair smelled sweet, that every inch of her body was clean and pristine. She shaved her legs extra close so they would be baby-smooth to the touch. She shaved her pussy, as she had every day, shaving her lips and leaving a small landing strip of pubic hair that she, and almost all the men she had dated in the past two years, had found sexy.
She put on the sexy perfume that drove everyone, men and women, crazy when she walked by...Lauren by Ralph Lauren, it was. An older perfume but it never lost its ability to intoxicate...or was it her? She remembered one day getting a free sample at Bloomies during a lunchtime shopping trip. She wore it back to the office and several people had commented on her scent; especially Phil Curtis. She counted him saying "mmmm" four times that afternoon. Occasionally, when Mr. Curtis was mad at her for something, she would wear the Lauren perfume and dress sexy the next day and all seemed to be forgotten. It was amazing the effect the scent had on him. After thinking of it yet again while getting ready, she decided to give herself an extra spray or two, just for good luck.
After blow drying her hair, she put on her deodorant as she had a thing about never wanting to smell dirty. She also knew Phil Curtis had quite the nose. It was almost as if, like a hunting dog, he could smell from 100 feet that she was having her period. It probably came from his penchant for fine wine and food. He could smell bad wine from across the room. She remembered once being embarrassed when, before an important client meeting at the office, he told her "You smell of sweat; please put on some deodorant and perfume before the client gets here." She was mortified. Holding back tears, she turned almost crimson and rushed into the bathroom with her pocketbook to resolve the acrid scent. It was that seminal moment after which she became fastidiously clean, not wanting to go through such an embarrassment again, which she never did. That was also the same moment when she realized that she wanted to please him and certainly not offend him, no matter what. But why? Was it just the boss/employee relationship or was there more? She could never figure that out.
She looked through her three-drawer dresser to find just the right bra and panty set for her meeting. She chuckled to herself as she was amused, she would even need to spend much time on this selection. It wasn't as if anyone was going to see her in them. She supposed wearing sexy lingerie under her work clothes made her feel good; made her feel sexy; so why not? She selected the sexiest set she had: a white La Perla silk underwire bra, which would go perfectly under her silk blouse. "It only cost me $200," she mused. "No wonder I am in financial trouble." The bra was see-through, except for the floral embroidery that barely covered her nipples. The same with the panties, not that she had a lot of pubic hair to cover.
The blouse she selected was sheer but not quite see-through. She may have pushed the envelope once or twice at the office with her dress, maybe looking a bit too sexy or showing off a bit too much cleavage or skin. But that was usually on casual Friday when everyone came close to crossing the line, especially in the summer. But today, this was an important business meeting. She wanted to look sexy and sophisticated, not slutty.
The skirt was also somewhat sheer but exceptionally soft and made of silk as well. It was not tight fitting as it was meant to flow with the movement of the woman wearing it. It too was white with a floral print that spoke of summer. You could say that the skirt was short as it came about half-way down her thigh, allowing Kat to show off her athletic and smoothly shaved legs, one of her best assets.
As she always did for these important meetings, she put on her glasses. They were a stylish business style that, she thought, made her look the part of competence. Even though she had 20-20 vision, she wore the glasses as a fashion statement. Her hair, her outfit, her glasses. She looked the part of a competent businesswoman in support of her powerful executive boss.
Chapter 3
Suddenly, she realized that she had reached her destination, The St. Regis Hotel at Fifth Avenue and East 55th Street. She quickly focused back on the task at hand: paying for the taxi ride uptown. After paying, she exited the taxi, closed the door behind her and started to walk towards the entranceway to the hotel. She noticed her nipples were rock hard and couldn't tell if it was due to the breeze of crisp morning air or the thoughts she had remembered in the cab from fantasies past.
As she entered the immense densely furnitured lobby she sought out the house phone. She was efficiently connected to his room and given the suite number: 1540. Why did she feel that somehow she would remember that room number for the rest of her life?
The elevator ride up seemed to take forever, or was it too short? Confusing is what it was. She still wasn't even sure why she was there. She felt worried, excited, and slightly sick to her stomach.
She knocked on the door to room 1540 and looked up and down both sides of the hallway as she waited for the door to open. At first there was silence and she wondered if Phil Curtis was even inside. Finally, she heard his footsteps approach the door and she felt the first tingle of the day between her legs.
Chapter 4
Mr. Curtis welcomed Kat into his room. It was a large suite, the biggest in the hotel. Her jaw was noticeably ajar, and her eyes scanned the area quickly. She had never seen a hotel room so large and so beautiful. "I could die in this room," she thought to herself.
He offered her a drink. "A little early for that," she thought, but accepted anyway. He didn't ask her what she wanted but simply handed her a filled crystal fluted champagne glass. "Mimosa," he said. "Please take a seat," pointing over to the long luxurious sofa.
Over the next several minutes, Phil Curtis described the bleak financial situation the company found itself in. He was quick to point out that the economy was affecting everyone, but that Quasar would survive this difficult time, although perhaps a bit smaller and nimbler than the company she had seen grow before her very eyes. Then came the hammer that she anticipated as soon as he started to talk about the company's financial performance. "Cutbacks," he said. "There has to be vast cutbacks in our expenses if we are to stay afloat during this restructuring time. No department, and no individual, is safe. Not even me. Hell, I report to our Board of Directors and if I do not do my job I can even be fired. Do you understand that? The guy who started and built this company from scratch can be fired?!" She sat there, almost teary-eyed, and simply shook her head north and south in response.
He quickly slurped down the Mimosa and poured himself another.
"I believe the best way to lead is by example. I need to set an example for the entire company by making direct expense cuts in my office," Mr. Curtis went on. I'll cut right to the chase."
As he continued to talk, Kat started to get this sinking feeling in her belly that she was going to be fired. She listened intently with her eyes getting wider with every one of his words. He explained that cutting back meant cutting one of the two EAs that supported him. That meant either Kat or Gabby had to go and go quickly.
He then described how he had labored to try and determine which of his two EAs should be let go. He told her that it would not be an easy choice but that he decided not to simply pick one of them to stay and lay off the other. They had both been such good performers in the past. He said, "Kat, your ability to do your job, take orders and do whatever I ask is beyond reproach. I have been incredibly happy with your work. And, as a bonus, you are a very beautiful woman and, to be honest, it lifts my spirits just to see you every day."
Kat thought, for a second, that his comment about her being beautiful was inappropriate. But she couldn't think of appropriateness, or lack thereof, right now. She might be getting fired. She actually found herself letting out a small grin when he uttered those words.
He then reinforced that Gabby had seniority and that he was well within his rights to lay Kat off immediately because of it. But he didn't think that was fair. Her heart both sank and then immediately raised up on that last point. "I don't think I can handle this," she thought to herself. She was a little high strung anyway, but she felt as if she was on an emotional roller coaster at the moment.
