Chapter 1
I could have been wrong about Laura Stevens, but I didn't think so. In the first two months I worked with her there were many hints she was sexually frustrated and in the right situation would submit to a strong man. She dressed just a shade on the provocative side and made little comments like "That guy seems like someone you don't say '
no'
to."
My name is Jack Norwood, and I was a confirmed bachelor in my early forties. Well, not "confirmed" in the sense that I wanted to live by myself forever, but until I was sure I had found the right woman I was not about to upset a good thing.
Nature gave me a six foot three frame that I work to keep in shape. My dark hair and eyes go along with a somewhat stern countenance that seems to appeal to a certain type of woman, the type that likes to be bossed around in the bedroom. I am good at dominating them physically and emotionally, and usually they come back for more. A supposedly happily married friend of mine used to complain that I got more ass than a toilet seat.
My business is selling high tech products to the military-industrial complex. I am what is known as a "manufacturer's rep", a salesman who represents manufactures who are too small to have their own sales force. During the course of my fifteen years in Washington DC calling on the Pentagon I have developed strong personal relationships with senior officers and staff analysts. Because of this, even large defense contractors seek out my services.
There is a saying among manufacturer's reps that principals come and go, but the customers remain the same. My success rests on keeping my customers happy. This means giving them what they want, both in terms of reliable products and in terms of satisfying their personal desires. Monetary kickbacks and bribes are common at the lower levels, but in the stratosphere where I work, they are much too risky for both me and my customers. Instead I must provide attractive "intangibles" to keep my customers coming back.
Of course offering state-of-the-art, reliable products is important too. I am very selective about the principals that I take on. Manufacturers must sell me before I can sell the military. And this is where Laura came into the picture.
Laura was a very attractive petite brunette in her late twenties. She entered my life as the product manager for a new communications system developed by a small company in California. Laura was a rare creature: a beautiful woman who also had an advanced engineering degree and a first class analytical mind. Her husband, David, was one of the founders of the California company and brought her with him on his first visit to see me in Washington.
I remember it was early on a Friday afternoon, and we had settled into comfortable chairs in my plush office overlooking the Potomac. There's nothing like a luxurious, over-the-top office to impress clients. A pretty secretary helps too, and I also had one of those.
David was your typical genius nerd, a technical whiz who had absolutely no sales personality. He reminded me of my doctor, who was very competent, but totally lacking in what they call 'bedside manner'. As I looked at Laura's pretty face and terrific figure I wondered why she was with a guy like that. Maybe there was more to his 'bedside manner' than was evident in his conversation.
Without even commenting on the view from my windows, he launched right in. "Mr. Norwood, from what we have heard, you are the perfect person to help us introduce our product to the military," he said. "Laura is here to give you a brief technical presentation and answer your questions. We are hopeful that you will be interested enough to come visit us in California."
I was surprised that Laura would be the one describing the technical aspects of the product. There are very few women on the engineering side of this business, and virtually none as attractive as Laura. In fact just looking at her would have been enough for me to give them an afternoon of my time.
She was probably no more than five foot four, and even in her ultra high heels the top of her head was barely on a level with my chin. The tailored business suit she was wearing highlighted the presence of pert, saucy breasts, and a tight, dome-shaped ass. Her dark hair was piled casually on the top of her head, with little strands hanging down around her eyes and ears. A pair of rimless, fashionable glasses set off her light green eyes. The effect was to remind you of when you first saw the cute Sarah Palin, only this time you knew the woman was ten years younger and ten times as intelligent.
Laura set up her projector and began her PowerPoint presentation, showing the slides on the wall that was shielded from the sun. I was very impressed with their product. It allowed small groups of soldiers to communicate with a command center, in both voice and text, using a device about the size of a digital camera. A display on the device depicted a GPS map of the soldier's position relative to both enemy and friendly forces. Vectors showed the squad leader where he was supposed to go next.
The unit for the command center connected to a display the size of a portable movie screen. Its map showed the positions of all the units on the ground, as well as airborne assets like helicopters, drones, and gunships. The commander could see the big picture and direct his units one by one.
I imagined how this kind of system could have been used during the Normandy invasion. Units that were pinned down on the beaches could have been relieved by directing other units to attack the enemy from the sides. I knew some generals who were specialists in amphibious assaults and who would go for this product in a big way.
In order to test Laura's knowledge of the technical details, I asked her a series of questions about how the system worked, what frequencies and bandwidths were required, the effects of weather, what kind of underwater testing had been done, battery life, etc. She had all the answers.
When I seemed satisfied, her husband spoke up. "Laura participated in the development of this system and is well versed in all its aspects. If you take us on as a client she will be available to come to Washington anytime to make presentations and answer questions."
That sounded really good to me. "I am interested," I said. "If it works for you I could come to California next week to see your operation and meet the other principals."
"Excellent", he said, and Laura gave me a big smile.
Chapter 2
It took about a month and several trips to California for me to get all the information I needed and sign a contract. I spent many evenings with Laura and her husband, both of whom kept stressing how important my services would be to them. They stated repeatedly that Laura would be available to help me in my sales efforts.
On the day we executed the contract they took me out to dinner. Laura was dressed to kill, as they say, in a scoped necked number that showed a good four inches of steep cleavage. Her husband pointedly ignored my staring at his wife's boobs, but every time I dragged my eyes back to her face I found her smiling at me, her eyes sparkling. At the end of the evening she made a point of telling me that they both realized keeping me motivated should be an important part of their marketing program. I left them wondering whether the guy was offering me his wife in return for a big order.
Their system was not cheap. To outfit a battalion with this equipment would cost the Pentagon fifty million dollars. My sales commission would be twelve percent, and my mouth was watering with thoughts of the money, and of Laura.
Over the next month I arranged for Laura to make a number of presentations at the Pentagon. She was very professional and sexy at the same time. I kept waiting for a signal that she was ready to increase my motivation, but none came. Not that she wasn't friendly. We enjoyed each other's company, and there were times when I caught her looking at me in a strange way. I sensed she was struggling internally with some problem.
The presentations always went well. The combination of the attractiveness of the system and her sex appeal had her all male audiences on the edges of their chairs, and invariably they asked for follow up meetings. However, things were moving much too slowly for Laura and David.
We were enjoying a drink in my office late in the day after another inconclusive session when Laura opened the door to explore a different tact. I remember we were sitting facing each other on my couch, sipping on some very good whisky. Laura had let her skirt ride up over her knees.
"We don't have enough cash in our company to wait months for these bureaucrats to make up their minds," she said in an exasperated tone. "How can we speed things up?"
"The problem is that there is no senior officer demanding action," I explained. "We have been pitching the system to analysts who are making recommendations that are favorable, but their reports go into a pile to be considered for inclusion in the next budget."
"Isn't there some money in the current budget that we can get?"
