Escalation

Serial payback starts to get out of hand.

An original story. Chapter 2 of 4.

I know that I usually write story continuations, but there's been enough clamoring, comments and emails encouraging me to write my own, that I figured I'd offer up a few. I don't think the trolls will care one way or the other.

I hope you enjoy this little story, and remember, it's only fiction.

For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

From Chapter 1:

I figured she'd earned it. I stripped and lay on the bed, arms and legs spread out. She took her time, securing me tightly, testing the ropes. She disappeared into the bedroom, and came out wearing new lingerie, showcasing her beautiful body. I got hard just looking at her.

She laughed, "You like this outfit?"

I nodded.

She climbed on the bed, and lowered her pussy over my face. "Show me how much you want me, slave."

I did my best, licking and sucking, a little surprised at how excited she seemed. She came for me twice, before climbing off. She teased my aching cock with her fingertips. "Looks like you're primed," she teased.

She got up and held a ball gag in front of my face. "Open up, Marty. I don't want the neighbors to hear you screaming for me."

I let her gag me, and lifted my hips eagerly for attention.

She laughed, rubbing her tits in my face. "I'll be back in a moment. I want to give you a few moments to think about this." She reached down and caressed my balls. "You shouldn't have fucked my sister." Her hand squeezed tightly, make me squeal through my gag, before she left me there, helpless.

I was sweating, still in pain, when she walked into the room, guiding a naked Mark Anderson in by the cock. I was shocked, and furious. She knew how much I hated Mark, a disgusting asshole that I worked with. He was a backstabbing ass-kisser, and for some reason was always trying to undercut me at work. He'd been one of the most obnoxious after the company party when she'd behaved like a slut. He was also one of the bastards who'd been kissing her.

She climbed above me, on her hands and knees, and the asshole climbed up behind her. He slid his disgusting dick into my wife, and I saw her smile as he entered her. "How's it feel, asshole? You couldn't leave things alone, could you? I gave a couple of idiots a blowjob, and you spent a whole weekend fucking my sister. Let's see how you like it."

Her tits were shaking, as the asshole pounded her from behind. "Man this is some sweet pussy, Marty. Thanks for making it available to everyone from work. What kind of fucking wimp are you, that you can't take care of a hottie like this?"

"Pound me, baby," my loving wife begged. "Show him how a real man fucks."

The guy was no super-stud. He only lasted a couple of minutes, but she turned around, took him in her mouth and got him up and going again. She laid down on my body, perpendicular, her head and shoulders on my belly, her ass at the side of the bed. Dickwad lifted her legs, and pumped her for a few more minutes, while they both insulted me.

It was too much. I didn't care anymore. I was going to kill the bastard if it was the last thing I ever did. I was going to ruin Sheri as well. I didn't care what it took, she was going to leave this sham of a marriage poor and broken. I ignored what they were doing, planning my revenge.

A few minutes later they were done. He never got her off, all she did was lay there getting fucked, while bitching at me. He got dressed and she put on a robe. I was still thinking how I was going to handle things, when the fucker took out his phone and took a picture of me tied down on the bed. He didn't know it, but as far as I was concerned, he'd signed his own death warrant.

They disappeared and she was back in the room five minutes later, still bitching.

"I hate you for making me do that," she snapped, her claws working on the ropes around my legs. I didn't answer. I couldn't, I was still gagged.

"I hope you've learned your lesson. You fuck around on me, and I swear I'm getting mine twice as bad. You understand?" she sneered, untying my hand. Once I had one free, I pulled my gag off, spitting a mouthful of saliva onto the bed.

She had walked around the bed, and was working on my second wrist, when I pushed her away forcefully, landing her on her ass. "Don't you ever touch me again, you fucking whore!" I yelled at her freeing myself.

"I'm not a whore. You are, you and my slut of a sister. And if you ever push me again, I'll have your ass thrown in jail!" she snapped, getting up, screaming at me.

She wasn't even worth yelling at. We were done. She'd be divorced, and the asshole Anderson was going to get his ass kicked from here to Mongolia. I didn't speak another word to her, moved my stuff to the guest bedroom, ignoring her shrieking and yelling, and locked the door. Sleep was a long time coming.

~ * ~ * ~

There's not much you can do on a Sunday, but I was going to start with the ATMs. I emptied the savings and checking accounts, one transaction at a time, until I had almost $6,000 in cash, from several different machines.

I went in to work even though it was the weekend, and prepared for my confrontation with the asshole on Monday. I knew it would be coming. I went through his desk, and found a variety of papers, most of which were of no use to me, but at least they had his address. I'd never been to his house, never wanted to, but now I knew where it was. That could come in handy.

Jack and Eric didn't need that kind of preparation. I had considered them friends. I'd been to both of their homes, met their wives and kids. I'd played poker with them. We watched football games together. I was pissed at them, but that revenge took a back seat to Mr. Asshole Anderson.

My cell phone rang a few times, until I turned it off. I didn't care to speak to anybody.

I pulled together all the phone numbers I'd need, and what time they opened, so I could take care of the rest of my business the following day. I made a list. Checked it twice. I ate my meals out, since I had no desire to go home. I wasn't going to waste anymore of my money on hotels. I'd stay in my own home, and if the bitch wanted to leave she could. I did buy earplugs to help me sleep better, and one of those locks you can put on a hotel door, for extra protection. No way she was getting in the guest room while I was sleeping. Hell, the next time who knows what the crazy bitch would do?

Once it got dark, I took a drive by the asshole's house. I wanted to know where it was, and the surrounding area. It was part of a duplex, with a garage, in a gated neighborhood. It made things a little more difficult, but nothing I wouldn't be able to work with.

I got home a little after 11:00. My soon to be ex-wife, was waiting up. "Are you still in a snit?" she snapped.

As to be expected. I took my stuff into the house, ignoring her, and headed for the guest room.

"I didn't want to do that," she told me following me down the hallway. "You made me. How could you fuck my sister? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I almost caught her hand in the door as I slammed it shut behind me. I opened it only enough to stick my portable hotel lock in the frame, and shoved it shut again, even though she was leaning against it shrieking at me. With the lock in place, I felt safe. I turned on the TV loudly, put my earplugs in, and got ready for bed.

I slept better that night, and was out of the house by 6:00 a.m. I went straight to the office, and waited in the Human Resources office until someone showed up at 7:50.

To say that Diane was surprised when I brought up sexual harassment, would be a gross understatement. I'll give her credit. She listened seriously as I described my "Hostile Work Environment."

I showed her the pictures emailed to me, and talked about the events with my wife that occurred at a company function. I gave her a copy of the pictures, again, sent to my work email, of my wife blowing two co-workers, Jack and Eric. Finally I told her of the comments that Mark Anderson had made at work, and the actions he'd been complicit to, with my wife.

I placed my three page written complaint in front of her, with pictures, dates, times and names.

"You have to understand, Martin, these aren't traditional sexual harassment actions," she said. "We have no corroborating evidence. It sounds like most of this happened away from work. I can look into it. I'm sorry that this is happening, but it seems like personal issues."

"My attorney thinks otherwise. If I don't see immediate changes, and I mean starting

now

, you'll be talking to him, not me. He assures me I have a slam dunk case." Alright, that wasn't strictly true, but I wanted to get the ball rolling, and didn't have time to wait to talk to a lawyer.

She turned red at the mention of an attorney. "I take my job very seriously. If there is anything going on, I assure you it stops now. Harassment or not, this behavior is unprofessional, and will not be tolerated."

"I believe you, Diane. That's why I'm here now, talking to you. I have no doubt this will continue until someone puts an end to it. I've tried to be patient, hoping the idiots would back off, but it's only gotten worse. This needs to end. And I expect significant action to be taken against those participating in this."

I closed my briefcase. "I'm taking the morning off, to deal with personal issues brought on by this. I've already emailed my boss. I'll be back after lunch, and would like to talk then about what actions have been taken."

"This isn't something I can deal with in just a few hours," she said.

"I'm not asking you to 'deal' with it by then. I will want to know what's being done, before getting anyone else involved."

"Threatening me isn't going to help anything," she said, and I could see she was getting upset.

"I'm not threatening you. I registered a complaint, about actions that are frequent and pervasive, and that the company should be aware of. I'm advising you of my intentions, and my options. I hope you deal with this properly, and quickly. The rest is up to you."

She wasn't happy when I left her, but that really didn't matter to me. I retreated to my office, closed the door, and starting taking care of business.

I'd finished with the investments, cashing them out, and transferring the money to a bank account that I used strictly for online transactions. I'd used Paypal for years, but didn't trust them having access to my main bank accounts, so I kept a couple of hundred dollars in a separate bank, and had a VISA debit card from there that I used for any online purchases. It was in my name only, and I had the only card.

With the money I'd gotten out of the house, and my previous stash, I had just under $180K in my three private accounts. There was about $20K of equity left in the house, and less than $2,000 left in our joint accounts. I figured even if she did get a smart lawyer to track down my hidden money, I had a good chance of keeping at least part of it hidden.

I made an appointment with the divorce attorney, to discuss what it would take to get out of the mess I was in. The best I could do was Wednesday at ten. I took the appointment.

I hit the expected jackpot around 11:30 that morning. I saw the email, blasted to half the floor, with the picture of me tied up in bed. I printed it out and returned to Diane's office.

She looked up at me when I entered without knocking. "This is ridiculous. I've barely had time to look into this," she said.

"What was it you promised this morning? 'This stops now' wasn't it? I just received this."

I put the picture on her desk. "This was sent by Mark Anderson to half the office. Check the time and the 'To' addresses. I've forwarded a copy to you."

She looked at what I printed out, and brought up her own email. "There's no proof here that it was Mr. Anderson who sent it."

"Have IT check his Internet access. I'm sure you'll find that picture was sent from his computer. I saw him come into the office. He's here. He's the only one who could have that picture, I told you that. I warned you something like this would happen. You should have spoken to him first thing this morning. Now

you

are part of the problem. Are you going to call IT now, or do I go and speak to my attorney?"

While I stood there, she called in the head of IT. She explained the issue, and asked for an immediate audit of his computer and a report. As soon as we were alone again, she glared at me. "I don't like being bullied around. I'm doing my job. There was no way for me to know he was going to pull something like that, if it was him."

"Except that I

told

you who it was, and what I expected. I wrote it down for you, names and dates. I'm going to lunch, I'll talk to you afterward."

"It doesn't help anything for you to be checking on me every hour on the hour."

"I'm not. I spoke to you before eight. At quarter to Noon, I brought you additional evidence, and asked you to look into it. I'm leaving to avoid the shit-storm I see coming. When I return, if I hear one single word about that email, I'll start the ball rolling."

I left her office and called the CEO's secretary. "I'd like to talk to Dr. Cantrell this afternoon. It's extremely important."

"He's very busy. I'm not sure today's a good day," she said.

"It has to do with a sexual harassment case that's been reported to HR and is still continuing. I'm trying to avoid having attorneys brought in. I hope he can find time for me."

"Please hold," she said.

I waited, listening to the stupid music for a couple of minutes. "You have an appointment for three forty-five. Don't be late, he has a four o'clock meeting."

"I'll be there."

I started the process of closing out the credit cards, over a long lunch. When I was done, they were paid off, except for the one in her name, and there was less than $1,000 left in our joint accounts. There wasn't much more I could do about the house, other than make it too painful and too expensive for her to stay there. I had an idea about that. I was monitoring my cell phone calls, ignoring most, only picking up if it dealt with customers. Any unknown numbers I let go to voice mail.

I was a little surprised that Sheri never called. I was quite happy to get a call from Mark Anderson, screaming at me for being an asshole, and getting work involved. He asked me if I liked the picture, and said that he loved fucking my slut wife, and would be doing that a lot more often, since I couldn't take care of business. He also said I deserved what I had coming, and that I would pay for fucking with him.

You've just gotta love an asshole with a temper. I forwarded the message to Diane in HR.

It was pure luck that the asshole was exiting the building, being sent home for the day, just as I returned. I had no idea what had happened yet, but was already feeling better. We were only a few feet from the front door, when we crossed paths.

"You little fucker," Anderson sneered. "Your ass is grass, and I'm the lawnmower."

I laughed at his lame cliché. "Have a nice day off, Mr. Two Minutes to Get Off, puny dick. The slut said the only reason she didn't make you use a rubber was because she couldn't find one small enough. You might want to get yourself checked, the cunt has Herpes. I hope you enjoy having lots and lots of time off."

He took a swing at me. I expected as much, and rolled with it instead of avoiding it. "Damn, needle dick! You hit like a little girl," I laughed.

After goading him into his second shot, I unloaded on him, all my anger and frustration begging for release. I didn't punch him. I slammed him into the wall, bouncing his head off the bricks, immediately kneeing him in the balls. I did it twice more, holding him up against the bricks. As he sagged, I hit him in all the juicy soft spots, solar plexus, throat, under his ear, and a nice rabbit punch when he was on his knees. Crouched over as he was, a last shot to the balls was irresistible, leaving him curled up, retching on the ground. I walked in past the half-dozen witnesses, and approached the receptionist. "You'll want to call Diane in HR, and security, to get a copy of the entrance surveillance tapes."

It was the first of many beatings that Mr. Anderson had coming, I'd decided. It was so much fun.

I'd been at my desk for less than five minutes, before I got the call from upstairs.

"Mr. Zodd? Dr. Cantrell would like to see you as soon as it's convenient."

Which meant now. Five minutes later I was sitting opposite the CEO.

No greeting, no introductions. He looked me over. "I take it that bruise on your face is from your altercation with Mr. Anderson."

"Yes sir. He jumped me on the way into the office."

"I have the video. It appears he attacked you, but you were speaking first. I'd like to know what that was about."

"He was insulting and threatening me. As he had been for months, just as I informed HR. I told him I hoped he enjoyed his time off. I may have said something about how he hit like a girl, after the first punch."

"I'm not happy about what's going on in your department. I don't like how it's been handled by any of the parties, but I understand your issues. Our counsel does not believe you have a sexual harassment case, but it's clear an unprofessional work environment has developed, and I can assure you that will be dealt with."

"Thank you, sir. I must confess, I was made the same assurance early this morning. That hasn't worked out so well."

He sat back, after his little spiel, and watched me silently. I understood the tactic, and waited as well. I was in no hurry.

"What do you want, Martin?"

First name. That was a good sign. "I want the insults, threats and attacks to stop. I want the perpetrators to understand in no uncertain terms their behavior is unacceptable, and I don't want to be subjected to it from co-workers at work or at home. I expect Mr. Anderson to be dealt with. I don't want to see him day after day, and I don't expect him to be rewarded for his behavior."

He nodded. "That is not unreasonable. So I can take it that if your concerns are dealt with, this ends here?"

"Of course. That's all I want. To be able to work in a safe and comfortable environment, not in an extremely hostile one. I like my job, and for several years have enjoyed working here. It's only been the last 8 months or so, that it's gone bad."

"In the future, if something like that type of behavior occurs, please bring it up immediately, so we can nip it in the bud."

"Yes sir."

He stood and came around the desk. I stood when he did, and accepted his outstretched hand. "This business is my baby. It's my life. I won't accept a cancer in it. I don't know how it ever got this far, but I

will

look into it, and excise the disease. I'd like you to take the rest of the week off, paid of course, and not part of your vacation. I think you probably have some issues you need to work out at home. When you return Monday, you and I will have lunch, and I'll tell you how things have been handled. Does that work for you?"

Longest fuckin' handshake of my life, but it was worth it. I was relatively certain that the beginning of my payback for Asshole Anderson was well on it's way, the CEO knew my name, and I'd be having lunch with him on Monday.

It was a start.

~ * ~ * ~

I probably should have just gotten my divorce and moved on, 20-20 hindsight and all that.

Instead I headed for Amy's house, and waited for her to get off work. While sitting in my car outside her house, I reviewed my messages, surprised at how few of them had anything to do with the most pressing issues in my life.

Sheri had called. I was going to delete it without listening, but it was very short. "We need to talk, Asshole. Tonight, or all your stuff goes out the door."