Stephanies Humiliation Ch 01

Author's Note:

This opening chapter frames the entire story but if you want to just jump straight into the hot stuff, go right to Chapter 2. I've included the kinks at the start of each chapter so if you don't like it, don't read it. You should however be able to skip to any chapter you want without the need to follow the entire plot. If you happen to be an artist and want to contribute any illustrations based on my stories, PM me! (I'd love to see that...)

Disclaimer:

The following story is fiction and not based on any actual events. I'm just fulfilling my own twisted fantasies. *grins*

Tags:

no sex (yet)

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Megan sighed as she looked at the mountain of paperwork on her desk. For almost five years she had worked at Chem-Silon, a major conglomerate dealing in pharmaceuticals, and was finally close to calling it quits, her eyes moving from the files and folders to the job postings she was secretly flicking through on her phone. It wasn't the work itself that was bad, it was just the sheer amount of it. More importantly, it was the fact that she had the boss from hell. Just as she was beginning to wonder about her career options, she heard her manager's familiar voice buzz loudly out of a nearby phone system.

"Jennifer!!!"

Jennifer Thomas was sitting at her desk just outside the office and practically jumped out of her skin at the summons. The poor bespectacled kid was fresh out of college and in her first role as a Personal Assistant in one of the biggest companies this side of the country. Megan couldn't help but feel bad for her. Three weeks on the job and she had already been reduced to a nervous wreck.

"Yes, Miss Coy?" Jennifer responded, immediately jumping out of her seat and hurrying through the door. Megan watched it close behind her and admitted to herself that things could always be worse.

Stephanie Coy was anything but her namesake. Brash and outgoing, she was only in her late twenties but had somehow found a way to slide through the gaps into middle management. The fact that she was a failed actress may have had something to do with her ability to manipulate people but she still created drama wherever she went. On top of that, she was beautiful...and she knew it. In fact, her looks had carried her half the distance.

She was a natural blonde but had for years dyed her shoulder-length hair a deep burgundy red, matching her fiery temper. Her skin was creamy white and just a few tiny freckles dotted the bridge of her petite, upturned nose. Her stunning eyes were a steel blue and both her cheeks and jaw line were pronounced, accentuated by her constant strict expression. She was slim too but her hips were wide and her legs were a little thicker than they could have been, owing to years of dance classes. Another failed ambition. That day, she was wearing a designer business suit, her skirt neatly clinching her trim waist and her white blouse hugging her pert B-cup breasts. Stephanie sat at her desk firing daggers at her P.A.

"Is this latté skinny?!" she asked Jennifer, already knowing the answer.

Jennifer winced, realizing her mistake. "N-no, Miss Coy. I'm so sorry, I..."

"Do you expect me to drink a full fat latté? Did you not pay attention during your training?"

"No...I mean yes, Miss Coy, but I'll get you another one right now."

"No, you won't Jennifer. I can't have incompetent nitwits like you in my department. Lord knows I've suffered enough of them. You've crossed the line this time."

Jennifer's mouth dropped. "But...but..."

"Get your things and have security escort you out. I hope you're happy. I now have to spend part of the day trying to find a replacement." Stephanie pointed to the door, tossing the cup of coffee into the waste basket with just the same amount of care that she'd fired Jennifer.

The young girl hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. From outside the office, Megan saw Jennifer emerge, shaking like a leaf and suddenly bursting into tears as she ran to the restroom. Forgetting her own troubles, she got up and hurried after her, hoping the kid wasn't going to have to go into therapy. Not that she'd be surprised.

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By the time she got back to her desk, Megan had managed to comfort Jennifer just enough to make sure the girl wouldn't throw herself out the nearest window and could compose herself to where she could pile her things into a cardboard box and leave the building, which she did with streaming eyes and many sympathetic glances.

"Great..." Megan muttered under her breath as she saw the new pile of folders waiting for her on her desk with a post-it note on top that simply read:

'Jennifer's files. Sort these.'

A please or thank you would have been nice, she thought to herself as she sat down. Her phone immediately rang. Now what?

"I forgot to mention," said Stephanie on the other end of the line. "I need you to advertize the P.A. post and compile resumés for the position by the end of the week. Give me six good ones. Have them send in photos...Oh! And men only this time. You know, just to see if that makes a difference."

She hung up the phone without another word. Megan sighed again. The faster she found the bitch another victim, the sooner she could at least get back to her own work.

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"Nope," said Stephanie nonchalantly, leaning back in her executive seat and throwing the resumé in the waste basket. She had barely looked at the credentials but had instead peered at the image provided with the paperwork before making up her mind. "Sounds like an idiot. Who else?"

Megan stood on the other side of the desk, folder in hand. She pulled another shortlisted candidate from the pile and handed it to her boss. A second later, Stephanie huffed and looked at Megan with disbelief.

"...What?" Megan asked.

"Are you kidding? How do you even pronounce this guy's name? I can't have people like this doing my typing if they probably don't even speak good English."

Megan peered down at the African-American man's picture and profile information. "But he was born and raised in New York."

Stephanie crumpled the file into a ball.

"I have a lot of important data to take care of. I'm not going to trust it with these types of...I mean...He's not qualified."

Wow. Megan raised an eyebrow and pushed another resumé her way.

Stephanie glanced at the photo. "Now this looks interesting..."

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David didn't have much experience behind him for the position. In fact, his resumé had been left on her desk with a note attached to consider him for the role, signed by Alison Fayre, the regional director herself. Megan assumed he was a relative or friend and she simply shrugged, happy that Alison had had the grace to leave the decision in her hands and not simply force her to shortlist him. Or worse, award him the position outright. Alison wasn't that type of boss. In many ways, she was the opposite of Stephanie. For that reason alone, Megan happily added David's paperwork to her pile.

As it turned out, he was just as good looking as in his photo. Dark hair, cheekbones to die for and a bright smile. He looked like the typical all-American boy. Plus, he was tall and fit. Muscular but not too bulky. When he first came into the office, even Megan found herself wondering dreamily what sport he played in high school. Baseball maybe? Wrestling? She shook herself out of her distraction and showed him to the waiting area for his interview. All in all, he was in Stephanie's office longer than Megan expected but when they came out, Stephanie's giggling, flirty manner told her everything she needed to know. Of course David would get the job. Her boss had a major crush on him and quite frankly, her overt efforts at playful banter were embarrassing.

Around David, Stephanie was a different person and not just because she was obviously spending a lot more time in the mornings doing her hair and makeup. She was smiley and peppy, not the sour grump everyone else knew her to be. Then again, when David wasn't around, her more familiar traits returned. Megan tried not to resent David for that. After all, it wasn't his fault that the bitch was just trying to get into his pants. But it wasn't like he didn't recognize it. He worked casually at his own pace and Stephanie never complained to him once about his performance like she had with Jennifer or any of the other ousted assistants. Other perfectly good candidates had lost out on the job and although David was a nice guy, Megan felt yet another pang of distrust for the system.

After two weeks of him on the job, Stephanie decided she couldn't wait any longer and approached David's desk, perching seductively on the edge. Her short pencil skirt edged up her thigh a little too easily, revealing more of her leg than was normally appropriate.

"How's everything going, David?"

"Good, thanks. Anything you need me to do?"

"Just stick with the spreadsheets for now. You're doing a really fantastic job. I'm so lucky we found you."

David shrugged, looking a little shy. His pearly whites couldn't remain hidden and Stephanie bit her lip, thinking just how true that statement was. "Sure, Steph. I'll have them done by midday."

"Oh, just whenever they're ready, I'm not in a hurry," she winked and tossed her hair back from her shoulder, running a hand through her burgundy locks. "Listen, David. Since you're new here and we haven't really had a chance to get to know each other, I was thinking we should grab dinner tomorrow night after work. You know, to make sure we're on the same wavelength. After all, a personal assistant should understand the person, that's what I always say."

His eyes lit up and he flashed another cute grin. "That sounds good. I'd like that."

Stephanie could barely contain her excitement but played it cool, leaning over the desk a little more to reach for a pencil. "Great, I'll book us a table at a place down the street. I go there all the time, you'll love it!" She jotted down the note, just to give herself more time to linger near him.

Megan could see them from her own desk and rolled her eyes at the obvious breach of professionalism taking place in front of her. She watched as Stephanie giggled and twirled her hair, throwing more compliments his way and contemplated the idea of letting Alison know, maybe dropping an anonymous tip somehow. It took about a second for her to decide it wouldn't do a damn thing. Stephanie had everyone she needed wrapped around her finger and she knew it. Megan just hoped David wouldn't be taken in by it all.

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When Megan got home that evening, she did what she always did: kicked off her shoes and fed Tabitha, her adorable pet cat. It was only when she was about to go run herself a hot bath that she noticed the answering machine blinking. That didn't happen much these days and when she pressed the Play button, she assumed it would be a sales person or someone equally uninteresting.

"Megan. If you value justice, be at the pier by Gino's diner this evening. Seven thirty."

It was a female voice and that was all it said. No name. No explanation. The message cut out and gave Megan the option to replay it. She did, trying to make out who it could be. Another listen still yielded no better clues.

Megan stood silently in her apartment wondering what to do. She was excited by the prospect of a little mystery suddenly in her life but also nervous. Was this a trick? Some sort of scam to get her to the pier? Maybe out of the apartment so some organized criminal gang could rob it while she was away?...Megan cycled through a series of paranoid thoughts. Tabitha circled around Megan's legs.

"What do YOU think, Tabs? Should I stay or should I go?"

The cat purred. Megan put her shoes back on and locked the front door behind her.

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There was a cool breeze coming off the ocean and Megan enjoyed watching the waves as she waited for the mystery caller. At seven thirty exactly, she turned around to see a woman in a raincoat and horn-rimmed glasses. Her face was familiar and as she approached, Stephanie was surprised to recognize her.

"Alison?"

"I was worried you wouldn't come, Megan. Sorry for being cryptic."

"I don't understand. Is everything ok?"

"You hungry?" Alison gestured to the diner.

The women ordered dinner on Alison's tab. While they waited for their food, Megan eyed the director suspiciously, wondering why the hell her boss's boss was paying for her meal. Megan knew Alison was probably a lesbian. The bleached cropped hairstyle and the fact that she always wore pants suits had at least told her she was not particularly feminine. But the meeting didn't seem like Alison had any strange romantic intentions. Besides, what was that she'd said about justice?

"Megan, have you ever heard of Project Seahorse?" Alison asked, stirring her coffee.

"I don't think so. You mean something to do with Chem-Silon?"

"Seahorse was a government experiment. About thirty years ago, the secret service was undertaking research to find conclusive ways to brainwash human beings. Control their behavior through a combination of drugs, hypnosis, sensory deprivation, the works."

"That sounds terrible. Can they do that?"

"It wasn't entirely successful. Those they tested on over the years were prone to mental breakdowns, physical deterioration...and worse. While they refined their methods and were making valuable progress, the project was canned after ten years. I don't know the full reasons other than it was seen as a risk. Funny how the government can choose when it wants to be ethical."

"So...why are you telling me this?"

"When Seahorse was no longer funded, some of those who had been working on it decided that all that time and effort couldn't just go to waste. They continued the research privately, developing not only chemical substances to reorient human self-control but full retraining packages that actually improved more and more on the subjects as the years went on. What those scientists realized was that the research could also be used for good, to undo damage caused by disease, torture, injury or even simple bad parenting. Of course, there was also the understanding by some that a great deal of money could be made in unlocking the user manual to human behavior. In fact, Chem-Silon built itself up on the back of a number of Seahorse products, including our range of anti-psychotics..."

The food came and Alison went quiet, waiting for the waitress to leave them in private again. Megan picked up her fork, prodding her lasagna. "So Chem-Silon owes its capital to secret government experiments about mind control?...Alison, I'm a little confused. I still don't understand what this has to do with...justice?"

Sighing, Alison cut into her food, dissecting her steak into tiny pieces. "I'll cut to the chase. After years of experimenting, those scientists got a breakthrough. Now the process is believed to be next to flawless. No one knows about it other than the key shareholders and a select handful of investors. And you."

"Ok..." Megan replied, still baffled by this bizarre history lesson. "And I'm meant to do what with this information?"

"Nothing. Just to know that I trust you with it and to prove that you can trust me."

"I see. I think."

"I need you to trust me, Megan. Because I have big plans for you and I want to be straight up. Before you go any further up the ladder at the company, I want you to feel that you knew everything about us."

Megan chewed slowly on her dinner, piecing the puzzle together, bit by bit. This was sounding promising, even if a little weird. Maybe it wasn't time to hang up her hat at Chem-Silon after all. Maybe there was hope to step into a different department or even one of the offices in Europe. Anything to get away from Stephanie Coy...

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Alison spent the rest of the meal elaborating on what she meant, telling Megan that she had seen how intelligent and hard-working she was but fearing that the young woman was getting fed up with getting no respect and no responsibility. Amid her compliments, Alison continued to jump back to explaining more on the company's history and the strange secrets of Project Seahorse, which Megan felt honored to be let in on. This was real conspiracy theory stuff and just like her chocolate dessert, she ate it up.

Afterwards, they walked to the nearby city park at Alison's request. The older woman had been checking her watch and wanted them to hurry along so they could see something. When asked what, Alison would only say "Before you go to sleep tonight, you'll understand everything."

Intrigued, Megan followed her colleague to a grassy verge, where they looked out over the rolling lawns as the sun dropped lower in the sky. An ice cream salesman was still doing a good trade because of the heat that day. A couple of young men, maybe even boys, were resting from their run by his truck.

That's when Megan saw her. Stephanie Coy came bounding along the path, running at a comfortable pace in a dark green tracksuit with her pet Labrador beside her. Alison leaned against a tree, shielding herself a little more from view.

"Every Thursday around this same time," Alison smiled. "Humans are such creatures of habit, aren't they?"

The women watched as Stephanie stopped in front of the truck, bending over to tie her shoes. The young guys saw her and nudged each other, checking her out. One of them called out "Nice dog" and Stephanie grinned at them, rubbing the mutt's head.

"Isn't he just the cutest?" Stephanie laughed, slyly checking the guys out from the corner of her eye as they came nearer. "Yes you are! Yes you are!"

"Want an ice cream?" one of the guys asked.

"Sweet of you to ask! Thanks, dude."

The man eagerly threw money at the ice cream man as his friend made small talk. Stephanie was flirting as always, reveling in her stone-cold fox attractiveness. When the kid gave her the ice cream she took one lick and then, smirking, let her dog take a huge bite out of it. The guys watched in dismay as Stephanie tossed the cone to the ground and laughed. "Nice try, boys, but I'm way out of your league. But thanks for the ice cream! Come on, Moxie!"

She raced off again, leading her slobbering canine sidekick with her. The guys stood dumbfounded and sheepish. "Fuckin' bitch," one of them muttered, flipping the bird to her back, but by then, Stephanie was disappearing down the path.

Alison turned to Megan, who was simply shaking her head with disdain for her manager. "Look familiar?"

"She's the worst, Alison. I see it day in and day out. I know it's not my place to say but I can't stand her."

"Why ever not?"

"Really? She's manipulative. A bully. She must have fired ten perfectly good people since I've known her." Megan cleared her throat, surprising herself about how open she was being. Maybe it was the evening air or the fact that she had been told she was being groomed for promotion, but she felt a little giddy in Alison's company. Free to say what she wanted without any ramifications.

"And if there was real justice in the world. What then? What would happen to her?"

"I don't know. I guess she would be punished in some way. Made to feel the sort of thing she makes everyone else feel all the time. Only a thousand times more and until the end of the world!" Megan laughed at her sudden honesty but Alison just quietly nodded, obviously in agreement.

"Dearie, don't worry. I'm well aware of the trouble Stephanie Coy has caused and far more than even you know. Her transgressions run deep. Not just in this company but throughout her whole life. Some people are beyond forgiveness and even then, they'd never ask for it."

"You're going to have to explain this more to me."