"Take a seat, Amelia," Mr. Baas smiled.
Amelia, his secretary -- who these days went by the grand title of Personal Assistant -- sat opposite her boss, voice-recorder at the ready so she wouldn't miss any of his instructions.
"You can turn that off, Amelia," Baas said, "I just want to know how things are going with you, and your job here. Give it to me, please."
She passed the recorder over, he glanced at it to make sure it was off. "Certainly, Mr. Baas," she replied, wondering what this was about.
Mr. Baas took a few seconds to appraise her, liking again what he saw. Fit young body, good mind to go with it. A lot of research had gone into selecting Amelia for this job, a lot of detailed research which would no doubt have surprised her, had she known. Good genes, healthy, and ambitious. Exactly what he needed.
Except for the husband, Amelia's husband. Still, that counted in her favor as well. An attractive girl with no husband, that would be a flaw. One would ask, "what is wrong with her?" But not in this case. A lovely girl, a lovely marriage.
Now, to start tearing that to shreds. He smiled at her.
"I'm worried about you Amelia," Mr. Baas said. "You have looked a bit troubled recently. I want all my employees to be happy. Do you have problems with your marriage, perhaps?"
"Oh, no, Mr. Baas! I love my husband."
"Excellent! Financial worries, maybe?" he stared into her eyes.
"How did he know?" Amelia wondered to herself. Indeed, a lot had been going wrong recently. First Mark had lost his high-paying job for no obvious reason, and was having trouble finding another. Meanwhile the bank was threatening to foreclose on their mortgage, somehow they had heard that Mark had lost his job, and their income stream was down somewhat. Their car had needed expensive repairs, something unusual had gone wrong with the transmission, further straining their budget.
Aloud, Amelia replied, "A few things have gone against us recently, Mr. Baas, but we are coping, thanks for asking. My husband lost his job, but we are managing on my income. I'm very appreciative of my position here."
Mr. Baas looked at her impassively. He knew all this already, having made sure through his agents that they were under this pressure. A few contacts had ensured her husband was out of work, and likely to stay that way. He had made sure that their car needed repairs, and that the repairs were expensive. And he had contacts at the bank. Ah yes, all going to plan.
"Amelia, you're a great PA. You've worked hard, you anticipate my requirements, and have made a very valuable contribution to the smooth running of Head Office here. I would like to give you a bonus payment, just a once-off to help you out with your financial difficulties. Then I know you will be able to concentrate totally on your work here."
"Oh, that would be great, thank you!" Amelia's eyes shone with joy. She felt her cares falling away, their money worries could be over, and she and Mark would be able to relax.
"As a matter of fact, I have your bonus right here, Amelia," he said, opening a cupboard in the wall and pulling out a small leather briefcase. "Look!"
She walked over and stood next to him as he opened it. Inside were piles of $100 bills. Her eyes boggled. So much!
"It's half a million dollars, Amelia," he smiled at her, gently putting an arm around her waist. She was so dumbstruck by the amount of cash she hardly noticed it. "I would want something in return, though ..."
Finally his words penetrated her consciousness. She glanced at him, "Such as?" She became aware of his arm around her waist now, holding her more firmly now.
He gazed directly into her eyes, dropped his eyes to her breasts, licked his lips, languidly looked over her entire body. His meaning was obvious.
"No fucking way!" Amelia responded angrily. "You can shove your money!" She strode for the door.
"Amelia!" She slowed a bit. "That is no way to talk to me. If you want to keep your job you'll be polite."
She fumed. She couldn't afford to lose the job. With her face tight she replied, "I'm sorry Mr. Baas, I have to decline your offer. We'll make do somehow without the bonus. Good evening, sir." She turned and left.
*
Amelia drove home, furious. Should she tell Mark? He had enough worries already, and nothing had really happened. She still had a job, she hadn't done anything to be ashamed of, and their money worries were no worse than before.
Next morning, inexplicably her car wouldn't start. She didn't have time to wait for it to be repaired, or towed, and taxis were impossible to get at this hour. She took a bus to work, arriving a bit late. Mr. Baas frowned at her, but said nothing. The day passed with no more references to bonuses or what might be needed to get one.
The bus trip home that evening was uneventful, except that two men that she didn't recognize got off at the same stop and walked slowly a little way behind her, almost as if they were following her. It was a bit creepy, so she was glad to get inside her home. Half an hour later the doorbell rang. Someone doing a survey. "Did she feel safe in her home?" they were asking. Some sort of home security survey. Once she got rid of them, Amelia started to feel a bit spooked. Was her boss behind all this? Surely not!
Over the next two weeks the niggling pressure increased. Strange noises outside the house at night. People following her, maybe, maybe not. More threatening letters from the bank. The phone stopped working for a few days. Not enough to go to the police with, but she started to feel frightened.
*
That Friday evening, Mr. Baas asked her to stay back for a bit. After the other staff in the managerial part of the office had left they were alone together in his office.
"Well, Amelia, are you sure you wouldn't like that bonus?" he asked. He got the briefcase out again, and opened it in front of her eyes. "Here, touch it, feel how real it is." He gently took her hand and placed it onto the piles of bills.
She hesitated for a moment, and he knew he had won. Now he just had to press his advantage home.
"No thank you, sir, I just couldn't," she replied, slightly less certainly than two weeks ago.
Mr. Baas thought to himself, "Touching loyalty to her husband. Time to drive a little chink in that armor."
Aloud, he asked, "What do you suppose Mark does during the day while you are working, Amelia dear?"
"He watches the television, he told me."
"Ah, but what does he watch?"
"Daytime soap operas, I suppose? War movies? I don't know for sure."
"Hmm. Let me confide in you Amelia. I did something slightly unethical, although you'll never be able to prove it to anyone else. I had surveillance cameras installed in your house while you were all out. Let me show you what your husband
really
does while you are out."
He pressed a button in his desk, and a section of the wall slid aside to reveal a large TV screen. He pressed another button, and a video started playing. The picture was obviously taken from a camera on the wall of their main living room. Mark was sitting in a chair watching the TV. To her horror Amelia saw that Mark's pants were around his ankles, and his hand was stroking a rather engorged penis. A split-screen effect showed what Mark was watching. Porn!
As the TV showed two guys fucking a girl at the same time, Mark's hand could be seen moving faster and faster. His mouth went slack, and a big stream of cum shot across the floor. Once he had stopped pumping it out, Mark looked around guiltily, disappeared off-camera for a few moments, and then re-appeared with a sponge, wiping up his mess.
Mr. Baas stood next to Amelia as she watched with a mixture of horror and fury. His arm went around her waist again, but she hardly noticed.
"Look, this is a couple of hours later," he whispered softly. He pressed a button, and the same scenario was repeated, except with a different lot of porn. Mark seemed to have quite a large supply. Once again he shot his load, although not quite as much this time.
Amelia ground her teeth in fury.
"Let me ask you something, Amelia dear," Mr. Baas said. "Has Mark been as keen in bed as usual?" He stared into her eyes, and winked.
He knew! She went red. There must be another blasted camera in the bedroom! Their sex life had indeed taken a dive recently. She assumed it was because he had lost his job, but it looked as if the porn girls were more important to him than she was. Her eyes filled with tears. She had been working hard to support the two of them, and all Mark could do was pleasure himself at home. While she worked.
Mr. Baas stood behind her, his arms around her lightly. "Time to choose, Amelia. You can walk out of my arms, out of that door, and out of this job. You will be penniless, and only have your worthless husband for company. Or, stay here, do what I say, and you can have the money, and lots of other things too."
He started to slowly move his hands up to her breasts, kissed her lightly on the neck. "Just walk away Amelia if that's what you want. Tell me to stop, if that's what you want," he murmured in her ear. His hands reached her breasts, cupped them.
She felt revolted. This rich old fool daring to touch her, feel her, put his hands on her breasts. How dare he! It was disgusting. She pushed at his hands, tried to push them away from her. For a moment they didn't move. He was physically powerful, as well as a powerful man, a rich industrialist.
"Amelia," he whispered, holding her against him. "Are you sure? Sure you want to walk away from the money? From me? From your job? Back home to Mark? Neither of you employed? Mortgage foreclosed. Tossed out onto the street? Are you certain?" The words went softly into her ear, as he held him against her with his strong arms. She was forced to stay, to listen to his obscene proposal.
He started to lazily rub her breasts through her smart business shirt. One hand undid her top button, slid inside her shirt.
She struggled harder, "Let go of me!"
He did not. "Look ..." he said. He moved one hand down her body, down to the top of her pants. His other hand still held her tightly against him. She struggled, but to no avail. She knew the office was soundproofed because of the confidential meetings that took place. His hand flicked open the top button, slid down inside her business pants, seeking its goal.
It slid further down, over her panties, violating her private space. That space that only her husband was supposed to touch. He reached a bit further and found what he was seeking. A wet spot. She was aroused, he knew it, she knew it, and she knew that
he
knew. She felt ashamed. She felt guilty for doing this to Mark, feeling aroused at another man's touch. It was so wrong. A hot flush suffused her face.
Then Karl pressed in gently with his finger, against the wetness on her panties, pushing inwards. "You're loving this aren't you Amelia? Your body is, you don't need to deny it. I can
feel
it. You're thinking of Mark aren't you? Your marriage vows. But is
he
thinking about them? While he is wanking? Wanking while you are working to save your house? Is he thinking of you? Is he looking for a job? Seems not, eh?" His soft voice went on insistently.
His hand caressed her panties gently rubbing. She could feel the wetness within, the wet spot was larger now, she was sure. His fingers would be wet, he would be able to feel her sexual response. It was humiliating.
She felt her resolve starting to crumble. Those insistent hands touching her breast, her sex. Then as Mr. Baas went on about Mark
