. 01

"Let's talk about your goals," said Josh. "How do you see your career going over the next few years? Where would you like this company to take you?"

"I love it here," I said. "I'd love to take on more responsibility."

Josh smiled showing all his teeth. "I was hoping you'd say that. Your performance this past year speaks for itself. Especially the last few months."

"It was a team effort." I exhaled a soft laugh of breathless modesty. "I was just doing my part."

"Don't sell yourself short," said Josh. "All your key metrics are well above target and your client satisfaction scores are through the roof."

Josh was VP of Service Delivery. He was my department head and my direct supervisor. He was tall and square-jawed. He had an expensive haircut and a great smile and he wore well-tailored clothes. But Josh was what he was--a grub.

Like so many here he parroted the fiction that we were all family and that we were doing important work.

"I feel so lucky to be part of the family here," I said. "We do such important work." I allowed a small inclination of my head in gentle deference. It turned my stomach that I had to sit here and pretend I cared what he thought of me.

He grinned. "That's it. That's it exactly. I'm so glad you get it."

Under the slick corporate veneer this place was full of shit. And our job--our "important work" was to spread that shit around and smear it on each other and smear it on anyone in arm's reach. That's what "client satisfaction" measured--how much shit I had managed to smear.

Josh couldn't see past the fiction because Josh was a grub. Grubs thrive on shit.

"I'd like to offer you the opportunity to transition out of sales and into a more project-oriented role. Here's what that would mean--more responsibility, plus you'd also travel a lot less. What do you think?"

"That would be a dream come true," I said.

I knew exactly what Josh's dream come true would be. He wanted to eat so much shit that he'd grow to be the biggest grub here.

"Of course, new responsibilities come with a new title--Project Manager."

"Wow," I said. "I don't know what to say." I lowered my head in modesty and let my eyes flick down to the Grand Seiko on Josh's wrist. Would this go five more minutes maybe? I could stand five more minutes. "But what about--

Senior

Project Manager? I like the sound of that."

Josh was caught off guard. "All right. Senior Project Manager it is."

"And I'm sure the title comes with an increase in salary, too." Now that I had him where I wanted him I named an obscenely-high figure--a full twenty-five percent higher than my current salary.

Josh couldn't hide his reaction. He blanched and said a much more reasonable number.

I lowered my number slightly. He raised his a little. But I was out of patience.

"I wonder," I said. "How many other candidates are out there--with my experience and connections--who would score so highly on a performance review?"

"Right--you're right, of course," He raised his hands in surrender with a small laugh. "I'll have to clear it with the money guys. I can't make anything official just yet. But I think they'll approve it."

He stood up and extended his hand for me to shake.

"Congratulations, Emily. You've earned it."

***

The company was called ESX but to myself I always called it the Shit Factory. ESX stood for Efficiency Solutions. The X didn't stand for anything. The X was just X. The X stood for this place is full of shit. Grubs welcome.

Before I'd made Abigail my unpaid always on-call assistant I was just about ready to jump out the window. I got through the day by guzzling caffeine and Ativan. I don't know how much longer I would have lasted before burning out. Yes I could have found a different job but they're all the same. The world was full of Shit Factories and without Abigail it was unbearable. With Abigail there was no limit to how far we could go. Today's promotion was just the beginning.

She was my secret weapon. No one would ever guess that the reports and presentations that had impressed Josh and the CEO and our clients so much had been Abigail's work. No one would ever guess that I'd barely even looked at some of them. That's how much I trusted her.

Could she have done my job--without me? Not a chance. She was no grub. Yes she was weak. Yes she was pathetic and easily manipulated. But she wasn't a grub. Unlike her I could fake it. I could pretend to eat shit and like it. She would choke on it.

It was a harsh world and she was so gullible. Just imagine what would happen if the wrong person took advantage of her. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Look at all the poor choices she'd made that had brought her to this point.

I was always looking out for her. I didn't make a big deal about it I just picked up the slack. She didn't need to ask that's the point because I knew it's what she would want. She'd thank me if she knew how much I did for her but I wasn't looking for thanks.

For example I had a keylogger on her computer. I knew her email password and I kept an eye on it for her. She didn't need to know the details just enjoy the benefits.

She didn't need to know that she actually

had

gotten a few interested responses in her job hunt--despite my best intentions. I'd blanketed the city with those photos of her in Reno but somehow a few people missed them. Luckily I'd caught and deleted those emails. They would only stress her out. And once some good Samaritan had written to warn her about the photos. I'd deleted that and blocked the sender. Just another source of unnecessary stress.

Back at my desk I opened my laptop and checked Abigail's inbox but today it was nothing to worry about--just newsletters and coupon codes. I opened another window. This one showed a grid of video feeds and I scanned the rows of thumbnails looking for Abigail.

All around the outside of the house I had security cameras. I'd made Rick install them one weekend. But what no one knew not even Rick was that I also had a separate system of cameras inside the house. Every room had at least two. They were pinhole cameras and they were absolutely undetectable. Another of the many ways I looked out for Abigail.

I couldn't find her right away. She wasn't in the kitchen or bathroom doing her chores. Had she gone out? No--

there

she was.

"Oh, you little slut," I whispered at the screen.

She was in my bedroom. She was rummaging in my nightstand and I knew what she was looking for.

I clicked on the thumbnail to make the video full screen. This particular camera was hidden in the ceiling light so it was directly above her and she was framed perfectly in the shot. I could see everything. Her hand came out of the drawer with the bright pink vibrator.

Abigail sat on the bed and leaned back spreading her legs. Her dress bunched up around her waist and she showed her pussy to the mirror opposite. With one hand she spread her lips apart watching herself expose the darker pink within.

I zoomed in close but her pussy derezzed into a mess of pixels. Unfortunately the resolution was capped over streaming. Later I'd download and archive the full resolution file. I had a very nice archive of Abigail footage by now including many of her and Rick.

I was both shocked and impressed when I'd first witnessed how often Abigail masturbated--once a day at a minimum but usually twice and often even more. And lately it was practically nonstop. The dresses and heels she wore for Rick worked on her too. She was in a constant state of arousal. She was insatiable. That was her choice. She didn't have to dress like that during the day when Rick wasn't home. But today as usual she was doing housework in one of her strapless elastic dresses that barely covered her.

I'd watched her like this so many times. How she stopped whatever she was doing with her hand between her legs like it was drawn there by a magnet. I'd watched her spread her legs on my sofa. I'd watched her rub herself furiously leaning against my kitchen counter for support. She had a collection of sex toys hidden in her room but I'd watched her grind her pussy against all sorts of things--whatever was available--a hairbrush or a bottle of wine or the banister.

But this was her favorite. To use

my

vibrator--on

my

bed.

She stroked my vibrator slowly up and down her slit. Not pushing it in. Not turning it on yet. She leaned back further with a pillow under her head so she could still see the mirror. She drew her knees up higher almost to her chest. Her feet up in the air wearing the platform heels.

Before I'd even realized it my hand was under my skirt. My clit was swollen and aching for attention. I glanced at my office door to double-check it was closed and locked.

Now she'd turned the vibrator on and she pressed its length against herself sliding the shaft up and down her lips.

I leaned back in my chair and I pulled the laptop with me so it was on the edge of my desk. I spread my legs and lifted them too. Not as high as her I couldn't with my skirt on. I rested my feet on the cross bar under my desk where it fit right against the arch of my heels. My knees still under the desk. Even through the window no one could see under.

I made a mental note to get a vibrator to keep in my desk. Something small and discreet. In the meantime I pulled my panties to one side and pressed the knife edge of my hand into my slit feeling the hard side of my palm squelching into my wetness. Trying to get my clit by rubbing my knuckle there. I knew that vibrator well and I knew just how she was feeling at that moment. I wanted to pretend I was feeling it too rubbing myself the same way.

She pressed the tip in and groaned as it sank into her. I wanted to turn the sound on but that I couldn't risk. But I could see her chest heaving her mouth open and I knew the sounds she was making. I knew the squeaking whimper from the back of her throat and the deeper moan she could make too.

I pushed two fingers into myself matching her. Eyes flicking to the window making sure no one was looking this way. That no one could see me with my eyes half-lidded my lips parted breathing hard trying to stay quiet.

Abigail's other hand wandered over her chest squeezing her tits and her dress immediately released them. They spilled out huge and milky white. She kneaded one hard and then the other her flesh bulging out between her fingers. The one she was holding she pushed up higher.

"Yes," I hissed. "Suck it. Suck it."

She did. She bent her mouth down and her nipple disappeared inside and this time I did groan I couldn't hold it in. My fingers slipped free from my pussy so wet and I rubbed my clit circling fast trying to catch up and keep pace with her.

I was just in time. Her hips were quivering shaking with the vibrator still plunging in and out of her and I knew she was squealing as she came still sucking so hard on her tit.

I didn't quite manage to come with her but when she released her nipple and I saw it pop out of her mouth bright red and shining wet. That's what pushed me over the edge.

I watched Abigail put the vibrator away in my nightstand. I peeled off my soaked panties and stuffed them in the front pocket of my briefcase where she would find them later. I fixed and straightened my skirt and then I sent her a text:

Got promotion. Make reservation for two at Vespers. Text Rick details.

My email dinged. It was from Josh to the whole department announcing my new role. Congratulations started flowing in from all the other grubs. From every corner of the Shit Factory.

***

Dinner was a mistake. The meal itself was fine. Vespers was always nice. But I had to eat it with Rick which soured the whole thing.

To make him feel useful I let him pick the wine. But I couldn't resist undercutting him somehow.

"I'll have the steak," he told the waiter.

"He'll have the risotto," I said.

I didn't need to do that. I didn't care what he ate. But it was fun to watch him cringe in front of the waiter.

"That's what I meant--the risotto," said Rick.

I'd spent years on him. I'd kept a steady campaign of small belittlements and gaslighting and undermining and chipping away. Now I looked at him swirling malbec in his glass and I thought:

Dead weight

. That's what he was now. I was Senior Project Manager and he was dead weight holding me back.

He looked up at me and smiled but I didn't react. He raised his glass.

"Here's to ESX--finally giving you the recognition you deserve. Cheers."

"Oh stop," I scoffed but drank to his toast anyway. Our entrees weren't even here yet, but I'd already had as much of Rick as I could stand for one evening.

Maybe I'd loved him once. Had I? It was hard to imagine now. There was almost nothing to him. He was just a miserable blur of a man. He could be replaced by anyone else as long as they were as boring and useless as he was.

What did he have to celebrate anyway? He hadn't earned this dinner. I had. Abigail had.

I'd do something nice for her. I'd tell her to buy herself some flowers. She'd like that.

***

I hadn't meant for it to happen the way it did. I hadn't meant it to happen at all.

Abigail and I were lying there beside my pool and I took off my thong and let her see what she wanted so badly. I made her get on her knees and beg for it. I'd only meant it as one more torment. Me dangling what she wanted most only to take it away again.

But I caved. For some reason I caved just a little and that's all it took. Once it started I couldn't stop it. Her mouth on me was like a lit match on a fuse. I was helpless against my body's response. In no time at all I was leaning my head back gasping and bucking my hips against her eager tongue.

I came hard. I bit my hand to keep from moaning so loud the neighbors would hear. She pulled back looking up at me her eyes big and dark her lips and chin glistening. Both of us breathing hard but before she could say a word I stood and walked into the house. Me hoping she wouldn't see how weak-kneed and stiff-legged I was. Me with teeth marks in my hand.

I'd avoided her for the rest of the day not trusting myself around her not knowing what I might say or do. I felt like a bomb had gone off in the house and I was wandering shell-shocked through the rubble. How? How was it so good? She hadn't had practice. I knew for a fact it was her first time. I knew I needed to feel her again and I hated that I needed it and I hated that I knew it was going to happen it was just a matter of when.

I only lasted until that night. I changed into my nightshirt I laid on the bed and then I called her in. When she appeared in the doorway my heart was hammering. I couldn't speak. I couldn't make myself ask for what I wanted. But I didn't need to. I laid back and spread my legs and pulled my shirt up above my waist.

This time when I came I kept my hand on the back of her head holding her there letting her know I wasn't done yet. I came again. I came so hard it was like a revelation. It was like something had been wrung out of me something that had been wanting to be free all this time. I still wanted more. I still held her head there not letting her stop and she was happy to let me hold her there. She was happy.

I pulled away and rolled over with my back to her. She got the hint and went back to her own room.

That was Friday.

Saturday we'd acted normal around each other. I slept in and she had a nice breakfast waiting for me. While she vacuumed and mopped I caught up on work emails and decided what needed to be done and what I could delegate to Abigail. Then she made lunch and we chatted just totally normal.

To her credit Abigail didn't get all mushy and want to talk about what it meant and I sure as hell wasn't going to talk about it. It didn't mean anything. It was just our bodies. Just my body using her body. Just my pussy using her mouth.

And besides it was over now anyway. I wouldn't do it again. I'd had enough.

But that night we were both on the couch watching TV. It was some legal drama. I was cozy wearing just a big oversized sweater and boy shorts. Abigail was sitting and I was lying down with my legs across her lap. She had her hands resting on my legs but she wasn't caressing them or rubbing them nothing like that. We must have sat just like that hundreds of times since we've known each other. But I should have known better than to sit like that this time because after a while her touch made something in me flicker awake and bloom hot.

At a commercial without looking up from the screen I said quietly: "Get on the floor."

She didn't react at first. She may not have heard me or she thought she misheard. So I pulled my legs toward me and put both feet against the side of her leg and pushed. Just a little not too hard.

I said it again: "Get on the floor."

This time she didn't hesitate. She moved off the couch to her knees in front of me waiting. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. I still hadn't taken my eyes off the screen when I lifted my hips and pushed my shorts off and kicked them to the end of the couch. I spread my legs putting one foot on the floor. I didn't have to do anything else. I just laid there feeling good giving us both what we wanted.

Her tongue on my clit sent me to heaven. I came before the show was even back from commercials. I came again when the jury declared the defendant not guilty.

After that it was back to normal. I pushed her away and then we watched another show and when it was over I got up to go to bed and Abigail stayed there on the couch.

Sunday all day I kept thinking how I could make her do it again whenever I wanted. It was silly to feel helpless against it. I had all the power. I could control it I could choose to do it or not do it and at the moment I chose not to. I enjoyed testing that boundary. Me thinking do I want to right now? and deciding I could wait. I could have her whenever and for now I would wait.

We were on the couch again watching TV the same way. Me with my legs on her lap. I knew she was thinking about it and that she was waiting and hoping I'd ask her to get on the floor again but I didn't. I refused. The last thing I wanted was for this to be

routine

.

So I made her wait. I made myself wait too with my pussy already drooling for her. Trying to breathe normally and not look at her while whatever dumb show was on.

At bedtime I got up and said good night. But I didn't go upstairs yet. I waited then said: "You can come to my room if you want."

She stood up and I thought of how we were about to walk upstairs and into my bedroom together and I couldn't do that. Just walk in and get in bed like we were--what--lovers? No.

I said: "If you're coming you better crawl." And I went up the stairs without looking back.

I was lying in bed with my nightshirt up waiting for her when she came in on her hands and knees and I couldn't help it the sight of her like that made me shiver and moan.

When I'd finally had enough it was late and we were both exhausted. It was only natural for her to stay. I pulled back the sheets and made room beside me. I slept with her arms around me with my head pillowed on her big tits.

In the pre-dawn morning I woke up hot again and craving her. All it took was a nudge on her shoulder and she moved down the bed where she belonged with her head between my thighs and her tongue between my folds.

Rick came home that afternoon. I spent the first few days he was back certain that he knew. That he could sense something in the house had changed while he was gone.

Abigail went back to wearing her little scraps of elastic dresses and her stripper heels and bending over for Rick when he wanted her. I liked watching them together. I liked watching her bent over with her tits hanging down and swaying. I liked watching her take his cock and his cum and how she was always ready for it. Most of all I liked knowing that she was doing it for me.