Healthy Septicism

During most of my teenage and adult life (I was 29 as this story starts) many people called me -- or at least thought that I was even if they didn't call me that -- paranoid. However, I felt that I was skeptical, not paranoid, and that skepticism was healthy so I had no desire to change. However, I lost a relationship and a first (we were too young to marry anyway) marriage where my suspicious demeanor played a part, therefore I vowed to change. I went to see a counselor who helped me with the outward manifestations of my skepticism so that I am now able to mask my feelings of distrust, doubt, or cynicism most of the time. My second husband Alex has also helped me in that regard.

Although I loved math during school, except for some statistics and probability, and computer, courses in college, I was pushed into a somewhat typically female curriculum; however I rebelled and persevered enough to get a degree in business, and took some graduate courses in market research. I plodded along for a few years before an opportunity arose for Alex and me to move to a new state. Alex came home from his ten year High School reunion excited about job and entertainment prospects in the state where he grew up, and talked me into a move if we both could get good jobs.

In our new state Alex had a number of contacts, including a former High School classmate of his by the name of Jenny Krieg (pronounced the same as the famous person, but she's much better looking than the famous one, even though the famous one is pretty). Jenny Krieg is the CEO of a decent sized company, called Multiplex Services, Inc., that she started with a college classmate of hers, and which now has a thriving business, probably grossing close to a billion dollars a year. My job as an analyst with Multiplex paid almost twice as much as my previous one did, and was more rewarding, and the company provided excellent day care for our two young twins Jack and Jill (no, we're not idiot jokers -- their real names are Jonathan and Gillian, but no one calls them that).

With my significant raise, and since Alex got a job, using another High School contact, at slightly more than he was making before with good possibilities for advancement, our move was a done deal. We bought a nice house with a maximum -- but doable --mortgage.

By the ninth month on the job, however, I had two main (and many minor) reasons to question the wisdom of my decision of accepting a job with a friend of Alex's. The first was that it seemed like we had many "command performances" to socialize with Jenny and her milquetoast husband Byron (he took her last name when they married), and Alex and Jenny were real chummy during those events. The second was that Evan, a guy I worked with regularly and was about my same level on the corporate hierarchy, was difficult to get along with even though he wasn't mean or sexually harassing. He was a classic pretty boy who got by more on his looks than his smarts (I thought that only women could lay claim to that before I met Evan). He was aloof, condescending even if not intentionally so, and didn't pull his own weight. He also seemed to be Jenny's pet -- making it difficult for me to complain to her about him, especially since he didn't usually exhibit any blatant obnoxious behavior.

During this time my skepticism/paranoia was not particularly in evidence, and I was trying hard to suppress any outward manifestations of it. However, something came along that brought out feelings of just plain mistrust.

Jenny called Evan and me into her office with a plan and proposition that was more order than request, although she framed it as a request. "Melissa," that's me, "and Evan I have a new endeavor that I want to explore that requires a maximum effort and you two are the best people for doing it, especially since you are the two people in the company best able to keep a secret. To make sure that it gets done properly, and in secrecy, I want you two to go to a cabin in the woods that has a propane generator and satellite Internet access for ten days and churn out a complete report on this endeavor so that we can hit the ground running with a new service that I want to offer."

"Uh, Jenny," I replied trying to reign in my surprise and without showing how appalled I was by her proposal, "I have two young kids and a husband. I can't just desert them in the middle of winter to go to some cabin in the woods. Why can't we do the project here?"

"For two reasons," she sternly responded. "The first is that this is secret from everyone in the company; only the two of you, our COO, and myself will know about it. I don't even want any information about it on our intranet in case it leaks out -- I haven't even entered anything about it into my office or personal computers. I'll provide each of you with a new secure computer for your sojourn."

That might have made sense to most people, but my skepticism was rapidly going into the healthy zone, and my bullshit meter was burying the needle because we had very secure facilities in our office, including an isolation room.

"The second reason," Jenny continued, "is because I don't think that this project can be done within the time frame I'm concerned with and with the quality I require unless you have no distractions whatsoever. Therefore I'm going to limit you to one call home a day, no more than twenty minutes."

I probably had steam coming out of my ears by then. "I'm not sure I'm your gal," I replied, trying as hard as I could not to snarl, and probably pulling it off.

"I'm in," Evan nonchalantly replied -- of course he was in; he didn't have a family and was the ultimate ass-kisser.

"Evan could you leave Melissa and I alone for a while," Jenny rhetorically asked, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile.

After Evan left the room Jenny continued in a no-nonsense, though not completely hostile, manner.

"Melissa, this is critical. It is the possibility that something like this would come up that I hired you and pay you top dollar. In fact there will be a bonus of $25,000 if you come up with what I need -- I know that you'll be providing the laboring oar because even though Evan is very capable," actually he's only middling capable, "you're our superstar."

"I'm not convinced, Jenny," I replied, again suppressing a snarl.

Jenny looked completely miffed, but regained her composure, put on another one of her sickening sweet smiles, and said "Please talk it over with Alex. If he's in agreement, maybe something can be worked out. However, I need your commitment by Thursday," it was already Tuesday, "since you'll need to travel -- first class of course -- on Friday," she almost snickered as she pulled two plane tickets out of her desk drawer.

I asked for some information about her idea for the new service. She unlocked the both combination and key safe in her room and handed me a single piece of paper, handwritten not typed, simply entitled "Ultra Promotion." As Jenny handed me the one page document she said "Read this right here, and return it to me; it can't leave this room."

I looked it over. Actually it was a great idea and -- unbelievably -- tangentially related to a project that I did in one of my post-graduate market research courses. I read it, handed it back, and said "I'll talk to Alex tonight," just before I exited.

Despite the apparent legitimacy of the project I left with the feeling, to paraphrase the Bard, "something is rotten in the State of Multiplex!"

***********

I left for home early, played with the kids until Alex got home, and then ordered take-out. After eating, some more play-time with our three year olds and after Alex read Jill a bedtime story and me Jack, I called Alex into the den.

"Alex, something came up at work that may require me to quit," was my opening line. I wanted to impress the seriousness of it on him right from the get-go.

"Nothing could be that drastic, could it?" he asked, gulping.

"Well, here's the story," I said and proceeded to lay it out to him. His reaction was disturbing and raised my skepticism level to near overload. He asked questions that indicated he had much more knowledge of the situation than I had provided him with -- surely meaning that he had talked to Jenny about it -- and he was enthusiastic about it.

"Hon, we can get by for just ten days -- especially since my Mom has been wanting to come visit and she can help me out, and we sure could use another twenty five grand. Plus, we sure can't afford to have you lose that awesome and rewarding job!"

Now there wasn't just something rotten in the State of Multiplex -- there was the smell of decaying flesh!

My stomach was churning, but to hide my distrust I went all out in fucking Alex that night, including sucking his dick after he ejaculated in me to get him up for a second round. Despite the fact that I had two orgasms, I slept for only an hour or so.

I got up in the middle of the night and on my computer authored a contract for Jenny to sign. The contract included the exact parameters of the project I was tasked with, various levels of bonus -- up to $100,000 -- depending upon the results of my efforts, and the use of a named independent expert to evaluate the results so that there would be no minimization of the quality once Jenny got my work product. I was careful not to give information about the actual idea behind the project so that Jenny wouldn't blow her top considering her own paranoia regarding secrecy.

Once I was finished with the contract I needed some more relief so that I could get back to sleep, so I sucked Alex's balls and stroked his cock, and once he hardened rode him like a rented mule while -- quietly enough not to wake the kids -- swearing a blue streak.

The next morning Alex was in a great mood. "What brought that on, sex-goddess?" he whispered into my ear as he kneaded my ass while I was preparing the kids' breakfast.

"Are you complaining?" I chuckled.

"Hell no!" he laughed.

"Then don't look a gift horse in the mouth," I replied before calling the kids for grub.

**************

I marched into Jenny's office first thing Wednesday morning. "Jenny, I've been thinking about your proposal. Here's my counter-offer. While I'm willing to make some changes to it, not many. If you're not able to agree -- and if I can't put the travel off until Saturday -- I won't do it. If you're going to fire me because of it, you need to give me a month's notice and severance pursuant to my employment contract."

Jenny's jaw dropped as she handled my three page contract. I heard her mumble something like "wait...but..." as I exited the room, but I ignored her.

My bullshit meter not only had buried the needle, but was flashing lights and sounding sirens as I waited for Jenny's response because Evan slobbered over me that morning telling me how much he wished that I would agree, with practiced "adorable" smiles, and for the first time since I knew him sexual innuendo.

About noon Jenny called me into her office. "This is a strange contract, Melissa, but I believe that it is important to have you spearhead the effort and that the new business could be our most lucrative one yet. Therefore, if you'll accept the changes that the legal department has recommended, we can move forward."

I looked over the red markings and added paragraph from Legal and Jenny. Of the eight suggested changes, seven were minor. She had knocked the highest possible bonus down from $100,000 to $80,000 -- but she didn't touch my time-bomb provision, so I agreed. I gave her a memory stick with the document on it, she made the changes right on her computer, printed out two copies which we both signed and initialed every page of, then she put one original in her safe and gave the other original, and the memory stick, back to me. "Please destroy the memory stick after you remove any other documents from it," she said with a smile.

"Will do," I replied. "I'm taking the time until Saturday morning off because I have lots to prepare for; I'll be in and out to put the finishing touches on other projects, and please have a copy in documentary form of all of the data you presently have on the project and I'll pick it up Friday at noon."

"Sounds good," she replied, and then gave me a hug -- while I perfunctorily hugged her back.

I wasn't lying when I said that I had lots to do; much of it none of Jenny, Alex, or Evan would know about, however. One of the first things that I had done was to have a female tattoo artist provide a small dolphin tattoo on the inside of my left breast -- I have big tits so there was plenty of room for it -- and I took a photograph of it with her, and a female P. I. that I had hired, and placed it in an envelope that I mailed to my attorney with instructions not to open the letter until I told her to. I also got a flesh colored patch, initialed by the tattoo artist, with an adhesive that could only be removed with a procedure known only to the tattoo artist to cover the rose tattoo on my right ass cheek, and did the same photographing, witnessing, and mailing as with the new dolphin tattoo.

After I fucked Alex comatose that night -- making sure that the lights were completely off so that he had no chance to see my new tattoo or covered old one -- I snuck out of bed, put on a flannel nighty, and pilfered his cellphone.

The next morning Alex was grateful for the wonderful fuck, but upset that he couldn't find his cellphone. He even tried calling it from my cellphone without luck. "I'll be home all day today, Hon," I told him. "I'll search the entire house -- and why don't you take my car into work today and I'll search yours."

"Thanks Melissa darling," was his half-smiling reply as he left for work.

I took Alex's smartphone to the highest end electronics whiz in the city and got him to install a GPS locator, and to allow me to access a record of any phone conversations that he had, and to turn on his camera remotely, using my smartphone. I also had the computer whiz format the new secure computer that Jenny had given me to also allow access to Alex's phone conversations and camera, and to allow me to selectively disable a locator and another program that Jenny had surreptitiously had installed on it. I also had a voice activated recording device installed in his car.

When Alex got home I cheerfully handed him his cellphone. "It was under the bed -- I must have fucked you so good that it fell off the nightstand," I grinned.

"Why didn't it ring when I called it?" he asked after giving me a hug and kiss.

"The battery was dead; I replaced it for you. It should work properly now, but since I don't have your password try it." Of course I had had his password for years -- the name of his first pet -- but never told him. "Hi Jenny," he said after dialing a number. "I lost my cellphone and Melissa found it and I'm just testing to make sure that it works...OK, I'll tell her that," he said ending the call.

It fueled my skepticism even more that the first call that he made, simply pushing a button on his call list, was to Jenny. "Jenny says to tell you again how grateful she is for you agreeing to go on the trip," Alex continued.

I just smiled -- diabolically -- while my stomach churned.

Friday I had a hidden HD movie camera installed in each of the master bedroom and guest room of my house, and I got a couple of syringes filled with a knock-out drug, and a vial of antidote, from a veterinarian friend of mine. Finally, I rummaged through the attic and got out Alex's old yearbooks from his junior and senior years in college, paying particular attention to the photos of Jenny and Alex in them.

I really had a lot of angst when Alex and the kids dropped me off at the airport early Saturday morning, and I smothered both Jack and Jill with kisses. I knew that within ten days either my healthy skepticism would reveal me as a genius, or I'd have to submit to clinical physiological treatment for paranoia,

************

Evan had preceded me to the cabin -- that's really what it was -- on Friday. It was twenty five miles out in the woods from the commuter airport that I took a helicopter to from the nearest major airport. I took a snowmobile to the cabin, following a guide who left once he got me there. Evan had a fire going in the wood burning stove, and the generator was running.

I'd like to say that I was surprised -- shocked even -- when I found only one double bed in the cabin; but I wasn't. "Where's your bed?" I snarled when I saw that.

"We can sleep together -- I won't try any hanky-panky," Evan replied. Yeah, he really did say that.

"Not gonna happen," I snarled back.

"I need a bed as much as you do," he shot back.

I rummaged through the cabin -- it fortunately had indoor plumbing, also powered by the propane generator -- a small and a larger storage rooms, and a glorified closet, all three (plus the small bathroom) separated from the main cabin by doors. A large refrigerator, stocked with food and drink (there seemed to be an awful lot of wine and beer), and a cooktop were in the kitchen area. There was a large table that would be a good work area, and two Internet hookups and electrical outlets next to it.

"What are you doing?" Evan asked as I rummaged.

He had no sooner made that inquiry than I found what I was looking for in the large storage area -- a folding cot with sheets and a blanket. "This," I said. "You get the bed the first four nights, I get it the next five, the other one sleeps on the cot," I said as I folded it out.

"OK -- but we'd be warmer in the bed together," he said shrugging his shoulders, and then with a grin, "no hanky-panky."

"Yeah, right," I mumbled under my breath.

Surprisingly the cabin was not difficult to work in. Despite the fact that Evan was obviously trying to play up to me (that is get in my pants) and that he didn't have lots to contribute to the project, actually the work went quite well. What didn't go well was my absence from my kids; a 20 minute phone conversation with them each night just wasn't doing it.

Whenever Evan went outside the cabin to exercise, get more firewood, or just putter around -- and sometimes when he was inside but clearly was not paying attention -- I accessed Alex's cellphone and the cameras in my house. By the third day Alex's smartphone demonstrated to me that I wasn't crazy paranoid. I remotely activated the camera which showed what I feared, and captured the images on my computer. Evan came in from the outside just as I was finishing up and saw the tears running down.

"What's wrong?" he asked actually sounding concerned.

"Oh I miss my kids so much," I moaned.

Evan came over to comfort me. Given what I had just seen using Alex's smartphone camera I was tempted to jump his bones -- like I said he is a really good-looking guy even if not the brightest or most personable -- but resisted, although I didn't brush him off in an insulting manner.

Aside from the situation in general, another disturbing thing was that Evan got near drunk every night. He had a couple of bottles of bourbon with him, in addition to the white wine and beer in the refrigerator and the case of red wine next to it, and drank every form of alcohol. He tried pushing alcohol on me, but I usually drank only one glass of wine a night.

I gave Evan some busy work tasks as I completed the project. My graduate school assignment has really prepared me for this project, and given my motivation to get $80,000 in bonus money, and in view of the provisions in my contract that Jenny hadn't seemed to notice, and especially because my statistics and computer graduate school courses allowed me to develop not only a complete implementation plan but an algorithm, by the sixth day I had the project completed -- although I had not told Evan that.

Evan was acting squirrely all day on the Friday that was the sixth day for me in the cabin, and the day that I finished the project. He insisted that I was tense and needed a neck massage and a glass of red wine. I didn't like the way that he was so insistent that I drink the wine, or that I get a neck massage -- although I have to admit that the massage felt good. After about five minutes of it I took a sip of the wine and then said "Evan, could you please be a dear and get some more firewood -- I know that you might have to split some logs and you should do it while the sun is still out. I'll finish my wine and do a few more revisions to the project while you're gone.