Struggling to Survive Pt. 02

"Please do. That will certainly help my case in court against you." That set him back on his heels. He didn't respond, but I was on a roll so I continued on.

"He may divorce me, or he may forgive me. That could go either way. But with the money we'll get from raping you and this company in court, we won't be in a financial bind anymore. It will definitely go a long way to setting us up, no matter what he does with me. I mean, even if I lost this job, I'll have enough money to be okay. Hell, if we get a nasty enough judge I may never have to work again. However..."

I walked up to him slowly, exaggerating each step. I leaned in close until we were inches apart. He took a whiff of my perfume, and I know he was aroused. But I was more interested in the fear in eyes.

"...I don't think you'll be as successful after your divorce. Your wife will certainly leave you when she finds out what you made me and your last secretary do. Not to mention your weekly visits to a certain stripper at Sal's Gentlemen's Lounge."

I saw his face register when I said that. I'll bet that he was wondering exactly how the hell I knew so much. Well, no need to get into that. All he needed to know is that I held his balls in my hands.

I continued to taunt him. "You know James, I bet she'll get a nice settlement. Of course, when you lose your job and settle your lawsuit with me, you won't have much money to work with. How soon do you think you'll be able to land another job with a sexual harassment suit on your record?"

My voice was a soft, breathy whisper. I had him by the fucking nuts, and I was savoring every second of it. If things got out of hand, I would undoubtedly suffer. I would lose my husband, and probably my job. But he would suffer so much worse. And he knew it. At this moment he faced the same choice King Pyrrhus faced when he went to battle against the Romans. The look on his face told me that he was not willing to make the same sacrifice for so shallow a victory.

Despite himself and this situation, I do believe that the asshole was still aroused. In fact, I think he was even more horny than he was when he inappropriately summoned me to his chambers. He was so beside himself that his mouth just opened and closed, like he wanted to say something but his brain couldn't choose the message. It was like he was caught between being turned on and incredibly pissed. It would have been funny if it wasn't so pathetic.

"Well James..." I said in my normal tone of voice, as if we'd been holding a perfectly legit conversation. "... if that is all you need, I'd like to get back to work. I have a lot of work to do. My boss can be a real asshole when his work done isn't done on time." With that I walked out and closed the door behind me, leaving him cursing to himself. With a triumphant flip of my hair, I walked to my desk and got back to work.

***

Later on that night, I sat on the couch with my husband as we watched television together. "Watched television" is actually a loose term. To be more precise, we sat on the couch with the television on. I was playing a game on my phone, and he was on his laptop.

My mind flashed back to the look on Mr. Worthy's face when I crushed his very tiny balls in my hands. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I would never touch his balls again physically.

I felt like Olivia Pope from Scandal. Smart. Powerful. Deadly. Don't fuck with me!

There was suddenly a stirring in my loins. A stirring that I hadn't felt much of lately. Like a tingling in my upper thighs.

Simply put, I was horny.

I looked across the couch at my husband. He had his nerd glasses on as he stared intently at the screen in front of him. His white T-shirt had a red stain on the chest above the Nike sign, which was probably sauce from the Spaghetti that we had earlier. His unshaven beard nestled on his face, like an unkempt bird's nest. Definitely not a picture that stimulates sexual arousal. Still, he was my husband, and I was so horny that I didn't need any foreplay getting there. He had EXACTLY what I needed.

"Tom, we should get ready for bed." I purred as sexily as I could as I gently rubbed his forearm. Okay, maybe it wasn't 1 800 Dial a Slut sexy, but it was definitely laced with amorous intent. Maybe it was a bit cryptic, but any man paying attention would have caught the underlying meaning. My husband didn't even flinch. Didn't even look up from his computer screen.

"Tom, did you hear me?"

He briefly shot me a glance to acknowledge that he heard me that time. Then he looked back at his damn laptop.

"Yeah honey. You said you were going to bed. I'll try to be quiet when I come up there so that I don't wake you."

How could he be so dunce?

"Tom..."

He then looked up from his screen and gave me a longer look. Something registered on his face, like a lightbulb just came on. I sat ready to be grabbed up and taken upstairs to be ravaged.

"My bad sweetie. G'night." He said as he leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the lips. Then he went back to that fucking laptop.

I sat there simmering in quiet anger. I mean, here I was, practically throwing myself at him, and he just sits on his laptop? What did I have to do? Sit on his face? Even then he'd probably ask me to move to the side so that he could see better.

In a huff, I left him on that couch and stomped upstairs. He barely acknowledged my absence. I threw myself in the bed and yanked the comforter over my head. My simmering anger started to get hotter and hotter as I laid there with a wet pussy and an ache in my thighs. Sleep was not going to come soon enough. I wasn't even sleepy for fuck's sake!

About two hours later my husband crawled into bed. Yes, I was still awake! I could feel the bed shift as he laid his weight in it. He tussled around for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable. Then I felt his arm snake its way across my waist until he wrapped me up. Then his hands found my breasts and began softly massaging them.

"Hey, Kara. Let's do it."

Oh, now he's horny! Did he really just say that? Let's do it. That was supposed to turn me on? No romance, no clever come on. He didn't even fucking shave. He just crawls into bed and says let's do it.

I grabbed his hand and took it off of my tits. Then I laid it on his leg. "Tom, I'm tired. I need to get up in the morning."

He blew a breath out in exasperation and rolled over on his back. I could feel his frustration. Part of the reason why I could feel it was because I was feeling it too.

Why did I turn him down when I was aching to be fucked not more than a couple hours ago? I think I was punishing him for not jumping me earlier. Was it unfair? Maybe. Okay, definitely! But I was sending out signals earlier, and he just didn't pay attention.

I wanted to be ravaged earlier. But he couldn't look up from his "work" long enough to see that. It was rare that we got moments like this. When we finally get a moment that I am actually horny and want to fuck his brains out, he goes brain dead. Then he wants to come upstairs, TWO HOURS LATER and says let's do it. Let's not.

We both laid in bed in unsatisfied silence until sleep finally took us.

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

Tom narrating: One Month Later:

I shifted in my uncomfortable chair and nervously adjusted my tie. My armpits seemed to be practically leaking with sweat. Moist beads dotted my forehead. Was it getting hotter in here? The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds as the silence that surrounded it seemed to amplify the sound. Click. Click. Click.

"Mr. Winchester. We're sorry about the wait. Mr. Danvers is on a conference call that went a little bit longer than expected. He should be wrapping it up momentarily. Is there anything I can get you while you wait? Maybe a water or a coffee? We also have some soda if you would like?"

"No, I'll be fine. Thank you so much."

The attractive receptionist smiled and nodded in acknowledgement and walked back to her desk. Within moments of taking her seat behind it she began tapping away at her keyboard as if I wasn't there.

Click. Click. Click. The clock on the wall continued to mark away the seconds.

Finally, after another excruciatingly long ten minutes, I was greeted by man that I assumed was Mr. Danvers. He extended his hand as I stood up and firmly grabbed it.

"Mr. Winchester. So sorry to keep you waiting like that."

"That's okay Mr. Danvers. It's hard to believe that I've been waiting 45 minutes. It really didn't feel like that long." I lied through my teeth. I would have told him that he looked like Tom Cruise if it would have gotten me the job.

For the next hour or so, he fired away question after question. For the most part, I had pretty good answers for them. I tried to highlight my level of experience and my achievements at my prior job. He seemed genuinely impressed. Then again, so did all of the other jobs I interviewed for. They all seem impressed until they sent that email saying that they decided to go with another candidate.

I drove home with hopeful doubt. I have to admit that being passed over for job after job was beginning to work on my self-esteem. I've been at my last job for so long that I knew that place inside and out. The people under me respected my leadership. The people over me trusted my work ethic. I'd been the golden boy and "Mr. Get it Done" for as long as I could remember.

Now, having to start building a reputation all over again was heartbreaking. But in order to do that, I had to get a job first. Someone had to be willing to take a chance on me.

As I drove home, I thought about the developments in my marriage. Since the day that Dean made me aware of Kara's and my descent, I began trying to make strides to improve on our situation. I took great care to speak to her with loving kindness instead of lashing out at her. I asked about her day and genuinely tried to listen. I even tried to romance her into having some "adult time". But I was getting increasingly frustrated by her responses. They were indifferent and lack luster at best.

I was losing her. I could tell by the look in her eyes when she returned from work. They were passive. They only looked at me long enough to acknowledge my presence. There was no lingering gazes of love and appreciation. Just...emptiness.

The ringing of my cellphone broke my thoughts. The screen was from a number that was vaguely familiar, but not overly so.

"Hello. This is Tom."

"Um, hello Mr. Winchester. This is Patty, the receptionist from the place that you just interviewed at. Yes. Well, Mr. Danvers wanted me to call you before you got too far away. He was really impressed with you and wanted to offer you the job right away. Is there anyway you could come back to the office?"

***

The last hour and a half had been something that dreams are made of. Okay, maybe my dreams were small. Get a job. Pay the bills. Make love to the wife. But after traveling on my private road of midnight darkness for a year, it felt good to see the sunlight peeking over the horizon.

My new job (Goddamn it felt good to say that) didn't pay nearly as well as my previous. I'd been promoted a few times, so my paycheck was a bit inflated. My mistake was expecting a to find a job that paid close to what that paycheck was.

So I tweaked my search a bit, and stopped discounting the jobs that didn't meet my "standards". This opened my world up. The leads started to become more promising. All of that led to today's victory.

As I sat in my car, I felt a tremendous weight lift off of me. It's funny how things can turn around in a single day. Yesterday morning, I was sitting at home eating a bowl of cereal in my boxers while my wife got dressed for work. Today, I was clean shaven, in a suit and tie, and FULLY EMPLOYED!

As I made my way home, I fished my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my list of contacts. As I passed Kara's name, I felt a brief nudge to call her. I quickly discounted it though. She was at work. Besides that, I really didn't feel like talking to her at the moment. I could just as well tell her later on that night when she got home. So I called my mom.

"Hey Tom! So, did you get it?" Her voice burst through my earpiece after the second ring. It was so full of expectation and excitement.

"As a matter of fact Mother..."

"AHHHH! YES! I knew this would be the one! I was praying for you last night, and The Lord told me that this would be the one!"

I chuckled to myself. Leave it to my mom to get The Holy Trinity involved in my job search. She knew I didn't believe that church stuff, yet she still insisted on plugging it into every conversation. Well, if it made her happy to believe that the man upstairs granted me this job, fine. I squelched the impulse to remind her that she prayed for me before every interview. The Lord told her that EVERY job was going to be the one. For an entire year in fact. The same God who "got" me this job failed at all of the other ones that I applied for.

But I digress. I was too happy to argue semantics with her. The fact remains that I finally had a job.

"So, what did Kara say? I bet she is over the moon!"

"Ummm, I didn't tell Kara yet. I'll probably tell her later on tonight when she gets home."

There was a slight pause on the other end. I almost thought the call was disconnected until I heard her speak again.

"So, you haven't told her that you got the job? Well, you probably shouldn't wait until tonight to tell her. She's going to be wondering if you got it or not al day. She has to know that your interview is over by now."

The truth is, I didn't mention the interview to her. I'd just gotten the call yesterday afternoon telling me to come in today. It just didn't come up in conversation later on that night. I didn't feel pressed to interject it because I didn't want to have to explain to her why I was turned down for ANOTHER job. The look of disappointment in her eyes after those failed interviews made me hesitant about telling her about this one.

"Hey mom! I have to get going now. I love you and I'll talk to you later!" I said as I ignored her last statement. Luckily for me, it's easy to distract my mother by changing subjects on her.

"Bye Tom! I love you too! Kiss Sam for me!"

With that she hung up. I drove the rest of the way home a little perturbed. For one, I realized that there was something wrong in my relationship with my wife when I didn't even have the inclination to tell her about my interview today. Two, I HATED it when my mom left Dean out of things. "Kiss Sam for me" instead of "Kiss the boys for me" really irked me. Yes, I get it, Sam was her biological grandson. But Dean was just as much my son as Sam was. Therefore, Dean was her grandson by proxy. We'd had that very conversation numerous times, yet she still did it. Would it really be so hard to acknowledge him?

Since it was in the front of my mind, I decided to call Kara and tell her about today. If she answered, I'd tell her all about it. If not, I'd just wait until tonight. Let fate decide.

As I listened to her voicemail greeting, I nodded and hung up. Later on tonight it was.

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

Kara Narrating: Same day

As I sat in the meeting taking notes I saw my cell phone flash. Thank god I turned the ringer off before the meeting. A quick glance at it told me that my husband was calling me. I declined the call and sent it to voicemail. I listened intently for about another minute to see if my phone chimed indicating that he left a message. When I didn't hear it, I figured that it wasn't too important. I'd call him back after the meeting was over, or I'd just wait until I got home. Either or. I returned my focus to my boss as he droned on and on.

This was no ordinary meeting. No, this meeting was with all of the big wigs of the company. They were crunching numbers and trying to decide how many people had to be laid off to achieve the profit that they wanted. Sales had gone down in the last two years, and they were panicking. My boss's projected number of layoffs seemed to be a bit on the extreme side. At least to me. But I was just a secretary, so my vote didn't count.

You would think I would be worried about my job. Truth is, I was probably the safest person in the company. Given the fact that my boss was scared shitless of firing me and creating a vortex out of which devastating information would find its way out, I felt quite comfortable in my position. After that day in his office, he barely spoke to me. He gave me orders and things pertinent to the job, but he was curt and short when he addressed me. He even stopped fanning the flames of those nasty rumors. In fact, he seemed to go out of his way to stifle that fire.

However, I was worried about all of those people in the other parts of the company. I knew first-hand the devastation that suddenly losing your job can do to a family. The things that they had to force themselves to endure just to stay afloat. People in situations like that would find themselves doing things that they thought they never would. Horrible, disgusting things.

"So gentlemen, those are the numbers. It's not pretty, but sometimes we just gotta cut the fat." Mr. Worthy said, punctuating a long presentation. Low murmurs circulated the table as they discussed things.

Something clicked in me though. I don't know what it was, but as I looked at that chart on the projector, things stood out to me. I don't know if I meant to speak out loud or not, but I heard my voice say:

"Why are there so many people on the night crew?"

The entire room talking stopped for a moment and all of the men looked at me surprised. Kind of the way you would look at a monkey who suddenly spoke in a full, coherent sentence.

"I'm sorry, what did you say young lady?"

The market manager looked at me and nodding his head to continue. Everyone else just looked at me like they were still perplexed as to how it was that the monkey could talk. Since I'd already stuck my foot out there, I felt like I might as well continue.

"Um, I was just wondering why there were so many people on night crew. It looks like the main problem with the sales is that there aren't enough people during the day to get the stuff out there. I...I was just wondering why some of the people from night crew couldn't switch to days. That would get more stuff out on the shelves, and people would buy more stuff. Instead of firing people...we...you could just rearrange them to make sales go up. At least, that's what i was thinking..."

My voice faltered out as I lost confidence in what I was saying. The looks that I was getting weren't too encouraging. Especially the one from my boss. He looked like he wanted to wrap his fat fingers around my neck and squeeze.

"I'm sorry Mr. Mueller. You have to excuse my secretary. She sometimes lets her mouth get away from her." Mr. Worthy said to the market manager as he cut his eyes at me. To my surprise, the market manager looked at me curiously for a moment, then smiled.

"Yes Ms..." He paused for a moment to indicate that he wanted me to give him my name.

"Ummmm, it's Winchester. Kara Winchester."

A brief look of recognition flashed across his face. Then he nodded like he mentally filed that information away in his vault. "Yes, well, Ms. Winchester. It's funny that you say that. I was just thinking the EXACT same thing. Those numbers do seem a little extreme. I was thinking that instead of cutting staff we could find a way to boost the sales. Your suggestion brings an interesting concept."

The looks of contempt that surrounded me no less than 5 minutes ago now nodded in agreement. All except for my boss. He glared at me.