Wicked Witch of the Office

This story is the second I've attempted and I've tried a bit of a different genre this time. It's my goal to create at least one story in each of the genre's that I'm interested in, at least until I can get some positive feedback from each.

All character's are imaginary, and over the age of 18... No animals, aliens, robots, ghosts, large or small machinery to distract from the story line, etc., etc.

I accept full responsibility for all grammatical and spelling errors, omissions and general 'goof-ups!' Sigh!

My goals in writing are two-fold; to entertain, and to learn how to improve my efforts. In that light, all 'constructive' criticism is welcomed. And of course, if you enjoy the story, I'd certainly like to hear about that as well.

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Eight months of hell, that's what it's been! I don't know now why I ever accepted that job offer through the university when I graduated, other than the fact that I was a referral from the Dean's Office, an extremely rare gesture from Brender University.

To give you a little background, and why I ended up in this mess, let me explain.

My name is Scott Belger, and I'm currently employed by the marketing branch of Skyler Enterprises, one of the largest high-tech distributors in the country. Largely unknown because of the nature of its merchandise, it's well-known among insiders as being extremely sound financially, and very generous to well-performing employees.

Their employment practices are very discrete, and as a result of my peculiar skill, I'd apparently gained their attention, and with a reference from the University staff, I was hired, sight unseen.

You see, I'd been orphaned at a very early age, and was passed from foster home to foster home until I was about to graduate from high school. For some reason, I found school pretty much a breeze, but managed to really excel in mathematics. I completed all the high school math requirements by the second half of my sophomore year, and was allowed to complete whatever college math courses I chose for the rest of my high school years.

I chose them all, of course, excelling in them as well. Not bragging, because I realized I had a gift, and had simply decided to run it through to its natural end. Of course that left me with a bit of a math vacuum in college when I was finally admitted under a scholarship, but Brender University had sought me out under the advice of Warren Skyler, the founder, CEO and President of Skyler Industries. How he had come across my name or scholastic record I had no clue, but I was grateful for the opportunity to expand my education, and fortunately the university had filled up that math vacuum with highly advanced courses in statistical analysis.

Now, my dilemma... The manager of our department, Carolyn Montague, is the proverbial "Witch (Bitch) From Hell!" Her reputation as a 'man-hater' is legendary, and for some reason, she took an instant dislike to me from the first day I was assigned to her department eight months ago.

To complicate matters even more, she is 'knock-out gorgeous' and knew it. She dressed for effect each day at the office, wearing the least amount of clothing necessary not to be considered obscene, but exposing as many of her physical attributes as she could to ensure that all attention remained focused on her.

At about 5'8", she has classically beautiful facial features; strikingly dark brown eyes, full red lips and long black hair that she occasionally pulls up into a bun. To complement this, she has a figure that could bring a deceased monk back to life. Her daily displays of these 'attributes' are continually an object of discussion around the office, but never when she is present of course.

As the apparent object of her disdain, it seemed that I was both blessed and cursed in my day to day interactions with her. Dressed each day in either a very close-fitting business suit or dress, she virtually always wore a blouse that contained a deeply plunging neckline, revealing generous stretches of her creamy white tit flesh.

And, I could almost predict when I would be summoned to her office, because she almost never sent for me unless she was wearing a skirt, which would extend only to mid-thigh. This of course, would expose a vast expanse of shapely leg, oftentimes riding up her thighs until I could just catch a glimpse of her panties. Between my total lack of a social life, and the prick-teasing displays of my man-hating manager, I was beginning to feel the strain of some serious sexual frustration.

The reason for my lack of a social life was the 'extra-curricular' workload that my manager tasked me with each week. 'On the side,' as she called it, I was required to produce extraordinary 'statistical trending' reports for her to present to the corporate officers each week. Since my reports tended to be quite accurate, and the feedback from the officers so positive, she quickly took full credit for the work, and my 'free time' became my second, unpaid job.

As if this weren't enough, she made it a point of degrading me in front of the office staff at every opportunity it seemed. I had been warned by the friendlier elements in the office that my predecessor had been discharged under accusations of sexual harassment by Ms. Montague, but from their perspective, it was she that had been doing the harassing. No matter though, Human Resources had taken her word over his. With that warning in mind, I could only surmise why she had targeted me for her sexual taunting.

The straw that nearly broke the proverbial camel's back however came nearly eight months after my employment in this office. Once again, Ms. Montague had called me into her office Monday morning for instructions relating to my after hours research and reporting efforts. That day she seemed to be in a particularly 'bitchy' mood, and as she passed through the outer office, she merely nodded in my direction and barked out, "Boy! Into my office... NOW!"

I was not in a particularly good mood either, but swallowing my pride, I dropped the work that I'd been doing, and followed her through her office door. The rest of the office staff tried not to show too much interest in my fate, but I could feel their eyes boring into my back as I closed the office door behind me.

As I entered the office, Ms. Montague was already standing behind her desk, hands on hips, tight-lipped, glaring at me. Even though she was obviously out of sorts, she still looked beautiful! As expected on my usual day in her office, she was dressed in a snug fitting business outfit; blouse unbuttoned nearly to the waist, and a skirt that just barely came to mid-thigh. There was no doubt that she was bra-less today as well. She motioned me to take the chair next to her desk, and sat down.

Picking up a small stack of papers, she swiveled herself around to face me, and demanded to know 'what the hell' I'd been thinking when I produced the reports from last week. Taking the papers from her, I scanned them quickly, but I knew what she was upset about.

Using the best information that I could accumulate, I'd written a report that was highly critical of certain routing schemes that had been implemented by the Corporate Dispatching Offices. My analysis showed that what they'd done would cost the corporation hundreds of thousands of dollars over the next few months. I knew the report would not be taken well, but I could only paint the statistical scene as I saw it. Apparently my boss had taken the brunt of the bad news, and had decided to take it out on me.

Snapping the papers out of my hands, and shaking them in my face, she gave me an ultimatum; re-do the report to reflect a more favorable view of that department's planning, or look for another job. While she was pushing the papers in my face, she dropped some of them. While bending over to retrieve them, two things happened. Actually three things...

She bent over in front of me, spreading her legs to reach between them to pick up the papers which had fallen to the floor. At that moment, I was presented with a miraculous view of her breasts, all the way to her waist. And beneath that, an equally marvelous view of her crotch, complete with a finely detailed 'camel-toe.' So given that fateful gift, I did what any man would have done in my place; I looked... Not only did I look, I was absolutely mesmerized by the scene.

In acknowledgment of this event, my cock suddenly woke up, and pushed out against my trousers, presenting what I must imagine was quite a sight to Ms. Montague.

Noting my attention to her attributes, Ms. Montague suddenly shrieked out at me, "You fucking pervert! I hope you enjoy what you're staring at, because it'll be a cold day in hell before you ever get any of this! Now, get the fuck out of my office and get me that report revision!"

As I got up and left her office, I'd already made up my mind that I was resigning by week end. I was not going to compromise my professional work to make her look good.

It seemed however, that this Monday was going to prove even more eventful for me.

Later that afternoon, I received a message from Roxanne, Ms. Montague's personal secretary, that the CEO himself wanted to meet with me that evening; something about discussing 'our' future. What a laugh! Warren Skyler!? Meet with me? Roxanne validated the message for me, as she'd seen them before, so I decided, "What the hell!" I can hand him my resignation as well as Ms. Montague, and I might have even more satisfaction at that...

The rest of the day went by quickly, and as I left the building I watched as the limo drove up to where I was told to wait for it. The driver exited the car, and opened the rear door for me to enter. Once on the road, I asked her where we were heading, and she replied, "Mr. Skyler has a corporate dwelling nearby that he uses whenever he is in the area, and we will be arriving in a few minutes."

Soon we pulled up to a very nice house, and the driver jumped out and opened the door for me to leave. She simply instructed me to go to the door and knock. Then returning to the car, she got in and drove off.

I knocked, and in a minute or two the door was opened by a rather imposing figure of a man. A bit over 6 ft tall, wide and sturdy, sporting a rather short haircut, graying at the temples, Warren Skyler could have easily posed for the 'poster picture' of confidence and strength. I was almost regretting my intention of resigning that night; almost.

Grasping my extended hand, Skyler pulled me into the foyer, and closing the door, bade me have a seat in the overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace. After briefly introducing himself and thanking me for coming, he directed me to the entertainment bar to fix myself something to drink. He then excused himself to the adjoining room to finish some correspondence that he was in the middle of completing.

In a minute or two he returned and went to the bar. After fixing himself what appeared to be nearly a full water glass full of Scotch, he turned to me and said, "I read the report that was presented to the corporate officers last week, Scott. Carolyn claimed credit for it until she discovered that it was not being received very well." His face was impassive, and hard to read as he sat down in the sofa adjacent to me.

He was referring of course, to Ms. Montague. I suddenly got a feeling that my resignation plan was good move, and that this was not going to be a good evening.

"I hired you, Scott, and placed you into the department that you currently work. You may not have known that, but I had worked closely with the University to see that I had first choice of your services. Now, I want to know exactly what is going on in that department, and who is producing these weekly trending reports. And Scott, please..., no bullshit!"

As I looked at him, I could see that he was now smiling, so I figured that he probably already knew who was producing those weekly statistical reports. Having figured that out, I decided to present him with the resignation that I'd already prepared and had in my pocket before I lost my nerve. He simply took the folded sheet of paper from me, placed it on the coffee table in front of us, and leaned back into the sofa to watch me, expectantly.

Admitting my role in the weekly reports, I explained to him that I'd decided to resign this evening as a result, and further, I went on to describe the overall humiliation and sexual taunting I'd had to endure from the manager of that department over the past few months. I probably went on longer than he'd have liked, but I had a lot of pent-up anger and frustration to vent, and unfortunately he was the only target in sight.

He patiently waited until I'd run down, while nodding his head from time to time, and then he excused himself once more to check on some things in the other room. In the meantime, he again directed me to the bar to fix myself something more to drink.

A few minutes later, as if the day couldn't get any worse, I suddenly heard the sound of a key being inserted into the front door, and when it opened, who should I see but Carolyn Montague! As soon as she closed and locked the door behind her, she turned and spotted me sitting in the overstuffed chair, drink in hand.

Her response was predictable. Visibly enraged, she immediately began screaming at me, "What the fuck are you doing in my house? You mother-fucking stalker! You're done! You're history! I'm calling the police!" She was reaching for her cell-phone when Warren came back into the room, drink in hand.

She stared at him in shock, and a moment later he quietly said, "Ah, Carolyn. I see you and Mr. Belger do know each other. Good." He continued to the sofa by the fireplace and sat down, looking across the room at her.

Looking around the living room, Carolyn tried to piece together what was taking place. She'd already gotten beaten up by the corporate officers for that report of mine that she'd presented to them that last Friday, and now she was faced with the CEO and President of the firm in her living room, apparently entertaining the primary cause of her predicament, me.

Clearing his throat, Warren apologized to Carolyn for not calling ahead, but said that he had been trying to get a grip on a serious company problem all weekend, and it wasn't until tonight that some things were beginning to make some sense. The reason that he was here, he said, was because of that report that she'd presented to the corporate officers that last Friday.

Quickly coming to her own defense, Carolyn immediately went into a rant against me, pointing out that the offending report had been compiled and completed by me. She went on to cite numerous imaginary offenses committed by me due to gross incompetence over the past several months, and described, in her opinion, my sinister determination to undermine her and her department. As a parting shot, she insisted that I spent most of my time trying to steal looks down her blouse or up her skirt.

To say I was pissed at all this crap would be an extreme understatement, and made me more determined than ever to make this night my last with this company. Still, I stared at her, standing by the door, a resplendent witch, but a witch nonetheless. Then, just as quickly I glanced back at Warren, still sitting calmly on the sofa, stroking his chin with his left hand, balancing his drink in his right.

A few moments after Carolyn's tirade had died down, he asked, "Is that the same outfit that you wore to work today, Carolyn?" Glancing down at herself, she stammered, "Y-Yes... So?" I noted that she was still wearing the business outfit that she'd flaunted in front of me earlier today; the blouse, unbuttoned to the waist, bra-less, and the very snug fitting skirt that barely came to mid-thigh.

A sudden impulsive thought ran through my mind at that moment, a quick mental image of her, naked, kneeling between my knees, my cock embedded firmly in her mouth. My cock, as if with a mind of its own, jerked slowly to attention, and I had to drop my hands into my lap to hide my little moment of weakness. I suspected that it was simply the reactions of a condemned man.

Nodding his head slowly, Warren went on to say, "A pity, Carolyn. If only you'd had the courage of your convictions, you might have been proclaimed a hero in due time. You see, that report of Scott's turned out to be completely correct! I've just spent the entire weekend validating his information, and quite frankly, I'm a bit weary right now."

Still standing near the doorway, Carolyn's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide with confusion as it slowly occurred to her that she'd just kicked a hole in her own professional boat. She glanced quickly back and forth between me and Warren, undoubtedly trying to find a way to respond to his comment.

Controlling my impulse to walk out the door and escape this surrealistic scene, I decided to wait a bit to see how this strange situation played out. It seemed as though I wasn't in as much danger as I'd thought.

Glancing back at me, Warren continued, "You have been a long project in the making, Scott. Ever since old professor Klein informed me of your peculiar gift, I've made it a mission to get you into a position in this company to provide the one thing that we lack; the means of predicting the results of certain business decisions, without pride or prejudice getting in the way."

Turning once again to face Carolyn, he said, "And you, Ms. Montague, have very nearly derailed the entire plan, single-handedly. Tell me, Carolyn, just why do you think I placed him in your department?"

Swallowing a couple of times, she responded, "I-I didn't know it was you that had assigned him to me, Warren. He just showed up one day from HR, and I thought..." Her voice slowly trailed out into silence...

"Now I have a much more serious problem Carolyn! It seems that Mr. Belger has just presented me with his resignation," Warren said, waving his hand at the folded paper sitting on the coffee-table. After that comment, a long silence came over the room.

To say that Carolyn was stupid would be a serious mistake. Warren Skyler was not known for being a either a fool or a pushover. Moreover, the fact that she was a relatively high level manager in his corporation certainly meant that she served a pivotal role in the success of the business. I was not in any position to make any judgments at this stage in my career, but I was still royally pissed at her, and still determined to escape from this crazy scene.

Carolyn looked back and forth at us, before remarking, "Perhaps, uhm..., we could make some sort of deal with Mr. Belger, to sort of make it worth his while to stay on with us?" A sense of self-survival was beginning manifest itself in her right now, and I could see that she was beginning to visualize a life without the nice position and perks that she now enjoyed.

Warren wearily looked back at me, and after a moment asked, "Scott, just what would it take for you to remain with us?" Both of them stared at me, waiting for my response.

I had resolved to leave the company tonight, and the outburst from Carolyn this evening had done little to change that resolve. The more I thought of what had transpired over the past 8 months, the angrier I became! Things would have to change impossibly before I'd ever feel comfortable in that department again.

Feeling that my feet were firmly placed on the edge of a cliff, I slowly stepped over the edge! Looking back at them I said, "No problem...!" I noted a sigh of relief from Carolyn, but Warren began to smile wryly, as if he knew what was about to happen.

Gathering up what little courage of mine that remained, I blurted out, "If Ms. Montague will strip naked, kneel between my legs, and give me the best blow-job of my life, I'll stay with your company!"