*This is a story in three parts that will only makes sense if read in order.
*This is Part 1
*
My name is Susan, and this is a story that you probably haven't heard before. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold, but I found out that revenge is actually best served naked. Allow me to explain.
I'm 5'10'', about 155lbs, 36-28-36 with natural C-cups. Most women who see me hate me because of my body, while most men can't pay attention to a word I say. You might think having the body of a Victoria secret model is a great thing (actually, most models are B-cups), but it isn't easy. I know none of you will have pity on me, but it is very difficult for me to lead a normal life.
I pride myself on my brains more than my looks, since I earned one and was born with the other (though my work-out schedule kind of means I earned them both). But every time I get promoted at work (usually by male bosses), everyone whispers that it is because I'm sleeping my way to the top, or that top management just wants a pretty face in the staff meetings. Eventually, none of my people respect or listen to me, and I have to change jobs.
I dress as modestly as I can, but it's not like I can wear bulky sweaters when it is 80 outside (I live in California), and burlap sacks aren't in style. And even with my modest attire, dating becomes extremely difficult. I work too many hours to meet guys socially, so I usually end up going on blind dates that my friends hook me up with. And of course they show the guy a picture they took of me at the beach or with me in a bride's maid dress that they had picked out for their weddings, so my date is always looking at my body while I try to talk to him about sports.
I had finally met a good guy at my last job, but blew it . . . literally. I work in finance, with a specialty in helping smaller companies go public and then ensuring their stock goes up by working close with sales and marketing. I was on a team with this nice guy from marketing, and we fooled around a bit on road trips once we got a few drinks in us. He had the ability to look me in the eyes, which few guys did.
But in the end, it was the eye contact that did us in. We were at work in the kitchen getting coffee and our eyes met. Something clicked and we quickly went to one of the private bathrooms around the corner. I was giving him a blow job when (because we forgot to lock the door) his boss walked in.
We were both fired that day (of course) and it sent me in search of a job. It also left me with a quandary as to what to do with my resume. I had worked at that company for 4 years, and should have had a lot of good references, but if any prospective employer called them, they would get quite a story that would keep me from getting hired. But by not putting it on, I had a 4-year gap. Still, I thought it was the better option.
My search for a new job involved me combing the stock market for local small companies that appeared to be underperforming. That is where I found Brough Tech. It was small video game designer that worked on contract. They were constantly innovating new ways to render graphics and customizable story lines, but since they only worked on contract, their name wasn't on the final game. Still they held patents on all their new innovations, and won dozens of lawsuits every year from people trying to steal their work. But no one had ever heard of them.
I scheduled a meeting with their marketing manager and impressed him with my claim to be able to double their stock by the end of next year. I said they could fire me if I didn't. I met with their accounting department and likewise impressed them. I explained the 4-year gap in my resume by saying that I had took time off, supporting myself by playing the stock market, but when I saw this company, I had to look into it. It was a lie, but they ate up the flattery.
They were ready to give me the job right there, but my position would be reporting to the president, and he was out for the next month. He was definitely a man I wanted to meet. He was the reason the company was so successful. The few press releases I read on the company talked about his negotiation skills with the Japanese game makers and his multiple appearances in court for their lawsuits.
The remaining staff at Brough Tech dragged their feet for a while, but when they found out that Jim Brough had his trip extended and was now headed to Asia, they caved and offered me a job. I drove a hard bargain though, securing major incentives based on the company's stock performance.
My first few days were actually fun. I introduced myself around to everyone and was impressed with the employees. The company was 80% male, which would usually be a problem, but since they were almost all nerds with four computer screens going at once at their stations, they had little time to worry about me. In my experience guys like that never gave me problems because they were either not interested in girls or only interested in digital girls. Or they just didn't know how to talk to an attractive female.
There were programmers, testers, and investigators. The third group played competitor video games trying to find instances in those games where Brough Tech's patented code might have been used. They got paid a lot of money to play video games all day, and since they kept finding infringements on Brough Tech's patents, and kept raking in lawsuit money, Jim Brough kept that portion of the company very happy.
Whenever I talked to anyone about the elusive president, I always got a cold shoulder. On paper he looked like a great leader and very generous. They didn't balk at my salary request, which I had expected to be negotiated down, so I could only assume it was a common salary. The environment was very good. Dress was extremely casual. Most of the people played games all day, and those that had to crunch numbers, always came up with good results.
I finally met my confidant in the legal department. They had two full time lawyers on the payroll. One veteran to handle all of the litigation, and a 30-something up and coming lawyer to handle most of the paperwork. The younger one, Terry, was a handsome single guy who was always talking about his softball team or waiting for basketball to start or some other sport. When I mentioned racquetball, he let me know he played, and three days later left work a little early to the local gym, and I beat him 3 out of 5.
I had worn conservative gym clothes: loose shorts down to mid thigh and a lose t-shirt, but I was still used to guys staring at me when I bared any skin. He definitely watched me quite a bit in the first two games, but his eyes followed my racquet in an effort to judge my skill.
"So tell me," I started when the first round of light beers came in the bar attached to the gym, "what's the deal with the president of this company?"
We hadn't showered yet, and sweat still dripped slowly from his forehead. I watched it roll slowly down his nose and then finally drop into his lap. He didn't flinch at the question. We sat there staring at each other, for almost a minute before he finally said something. "Okay, you'll find out eventually, it's just you didn't hear about it from me."
My ears perked up at this.
"The man is a pig. He is a sexually obsessed man. His trips to Asia bring tons of money to this company, which is good, because his expense reports shell out thousands of dollars to hookers in Hong Kong and Tokyo."
"He isn't the first person to lie on his expense reports about things like that."
"Who said he's lying," Terry responded, taking a sip of his beer. "He puts it under entertainment. No receipts."
"You don't work in accounting, how do you know?" I challenged him.
"You're not the only person I've had drinks with," he replied.
I thought for a moment I might have competition for him (assuming I wanted him), but I couldn't imagine any of the older women in accounting being his type. I ignored this for now and focused on my main concern. "So he likes to have fun when he is out of the country. It's legal there, what's the problem."
"You don't understand," Terry argued. "He spends half his time thinking about computer code, and the other half of his time thinking about sex. But he doesn't just think about it, he acts on it. All the time. We have all seen him escort hot women in skimpy business outfits into is office for an hour long meeting and then later say that it was a potential customer."
"This is a male dominated business," I argued. "Companies that know what their doing hire hot saleswomen."
"And do these hot sales women request 200 bucks from you after making their sales pitch?"
"Not typically," I admitted.
