Office Politics

Ambitious Melisand wants to get out of her dead-end job with a move to the Marketing Department. Office Politics chapter 2 told how she made sure her lecherous boss Mr Jones would not try to stop her. Now she has to impress Mr Edwards, the Head of Marketing, and without sharing too much of the credit.

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I finished the report for Mr Edwards in the morning. It did not take me long, as I had worked out the pivot tables the previous night. We did not have a colour printer in word processing section and I was meant to take it to Amanda, one of the departmental secretaries, who would review it and print it off in Marketing. That did not fit with my plans at all.

Research department had a colour printer, and I had installed the driver and attached it to my computer. They always had a meeting from 10:00 to 11:00, so I had plenty of time to print a copy of the report and pinch it off the back of the printer. Even if anyone saw me, the document I was taking was obviously from Marketing so I could simply say that it had gone to the wrong printer and I was collecting it for Mr Edwards.

Amanda had given me a copy of the previous month's report as a sample, and there were a few areas where I thought the presentation could be improved. I saved my work and created a new version, making these changes. I just had enough time to print and collect the changed report before 11:00. Then I telephoned Mike and asked if I could see him. Mike was one of Mr Edwards's executive assistants. He said to come up at about 11:30.

Mrs Ellis, the office supervisor, had been busy most of the morning, but she came up to me at the coffee machine. "How are you?" she asked. I told her I was fine. "I hope you were OK last night," she asked with obvious concern, "I am not sure it is a good idea to stay in the office after everyone except Mr Jones has gone."

"I am quite alright," I said, "nothing happened that caused me any distress."

She did not look entirely reassured, but she went back to her desk. She did not ask me about the report.

I went to Marketing department just before 11:30 and asked for Mike. I was surprised to be shown into a spacious and well-appointed office. The bank clearly thought Mike was going places. He stood up as I came in, showing me to a chair by a side table before sitting in the chair opposite.

Mike was very tall and quite slim. He was in his early twenties and very smartly dressed. He had slightly long, blond hair and blue eyes. His suntan suggested a winter skiing holiday rather than a sunlamp. He gave me a friendly grin and said "Melisand, John Edwards told me you were helping us on the Friday report. How can I help you?"

"I have been looking through last month's report," I started, "and I think there are a couple of places where the presentation could be improved." He looked surprised. I put the old report down on the table and showed him the parts I thought needed changing.

"I hear what you are saying," he said. "Tell me how you would change them and explain why this would improve the report."

I put the unchanged copy of the new report on the table. "Look at this figure here," I said, "this shows this month's figures in the same format as last month's. If I put lines here and here," I indicated the place on the report "and print the totals in bold the whole thing is much clearer. Like this," I showed him the same figure in the new report after my changes.

He compared the two reports for a couple of minutes. He looked warily at me, "and the other changes?"

I showed him the other changes I had made. He spent a few minutes looking at them and then I explained how they would improve the report for a few minutes. He picked up the telephone, "John, do you have a minute?" He put the telephone down. "John will be able to see us in about 15 minutes. Would you like a cup of coffee?" I said yes and he called one of the secretaries to get two coffees.

We talked while we drank our coffee. He questioned me about my background, what I enjoyed doing and my ambitions. I don't want to make it sound like an interview – Mike was a very easy person to talk to, and I think that was an important reason for his being so successful – but he probably learned more about me in that short conversation than Mr Jones had done in an hour-long interview before I joined the bank.

Mr Edwards's secretary called us and we went in to Mr Edwards's office. This was about the same size as Mike's but the furniture and fittings were much more expensive.

Mike started, "John, Melisand has some ideas about how we can improve the Friday report."

"Do we need to?" asked Mr Edwards, in a half-joking, half-irritated way.

Mike put the reports down on Mr Edwards's desk and went through the changes in detail with him. He explained why the changes would improve the report and showed how they would benefit the people who used the report. He occasionally asked me to explain how I had managed to produce a particular effect.

After about twenty minutes, Mike turned to me. "Melisand, how did you manage to print this in colour? There is no colour printer in the word processing section and someone would have stopped you if you tried to print it in here."

I put on my most innocent expression and told them about the colour printer in Research department. Mr Edwards said, "strictly speaking, you are not authorised to use that." I put on my little-girl-caught-with-her-fingers-in-the-sweet-jar face and said I was sorry but I had not realised. Mr Edwards grinned and said that he was glad that I had ignored that rule, provided I did not do so again.

"Could you excuse us for a few minutes, Melisand?" asked Mr Edwards. I went out of his office and talked to his secretary for about ten minutes. Then Mike asked me to come back into the office.

It was Mike who spoke. "Melisand, you have come up with some good suggestions on the report. John and I both agree that it will greatly improve its quality. On the other hand, you seem to have shredded the rulebook. You have used a printer you are not authorised to use. You have also made these changes without talking them through with Mrs Ellis. We are not quite certain whether we should promote you or sack you."

I looked suitably contrite. Mike continued, "If we decide to let you continue working on this report, how long do you think it will take you to finish it?"

"I need to tick the figures back to the papers Amanda gave me," I said, "and someone should proof read it. If Mrs Ellis has time to proof read it this afternoon it should be with you by this evening."

"Today!" exclaimed Mr Edwards. "Are you telling me you have finished it, working on your own, in a day and a half?"

I nodded.

"Take her away, Mike," said Mr Edwards. Mike grinned broadly and led me back to his office.

We sat at the side table again. "That was some show you put on," said Mike, "I thought John would have apoplexy. Is it really finished or was that bluff."

"I need to tick back the figures and I want someone to proof read it," I repeated, "but aside from that I believe it is finished."

He picked up the telephone. "Mrs Ellis," he said, "are you free to do some proof reading for an hour or so?"

He put the telephone down and turned to me. "We usually tick back the figures ourselves. If you can go and see Amanda I will ask her to go through it with you. I have asked Mrs Ellis to come over to proof read it and she should be here in about ten minutes." He showed me out of his office and led me over to Amanda's desk.

The next hour was one of the most nerve-wracking of my life as Amanda and Mrs Ellis examined the report on a line-by-line basis looking for mistakes. Eventually they gave up and Amanda telephoned Mike to say that it was correct. Amanda led us back into Mike's office.

Mike was in an expansive mood. "I am not sure how you did it Melisand, but thank you very much. And thank you Mrs Ellis for proof reading it at such short notice. Perhaps you can have a word with Mr Jones to make sure Melisand is available to work on this report on a regular basis. Getting it out on the Tuesday is remarkable!" Then he turned back to me. "Melisand, you need to email the report to Amanda so she can have it printed. We will have to remove your access to the Research department printer, I am afraid, but I will ask Daniel to connect you to one of our colour printers. I think we may have some more work for you very soon." Daniel was the systems administrator. I was also dating him and he had taught me most of the tricks I had used in the report.

Instead of taking me back to the word processing section, Mrs Ellis steered me towards the coffee shop. This was empty at this time of day, and she bought a couple of coffees and we sat down at one of the tables. "I know what happened last night," said Mrs Ellis, "that worm Jones can't keep any secrets from me. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," I said. "He did me no lasting harm and he will not go near me in the future. I hope this will scare him so he does not try anything like that on anyone else."

"You are playing a very dangerous game, Melisand," said Mrs Ellis, "and I hope you do not get out of your depth. Are you going to ask for a move to Marketing?"

"Probably, eventually. I want to go in as more than 'the girl who does the Friday report', though."

"I can see that." Mrs Ellis sat deep in thought for a few minutes. "I can put in a good word with John Edwards and I am sure you can deal with Mike, but remember you are on trial now. You broke a few too many rules!"

"I will be a positive saint from now on," I said. I gave her a cheeky grin to show that I did not really mean it.

"You look after yourself," she said, "I would hate anything else bad to happen to you. We had better get back. You might as well pack up and go when we get back – you have had a trying couple of days."

Daniel was waiting at my computer when we got back to the office. "You are not allowed to attach printers and you are definitely not allowed to install drivers," he said.

I looked suitably apologetic and murmured, "sorry." My contrite expression was getting a lot of exercise today.

"I have attached you to a printer in Marketing," he said, "if you will come with me I will show you where it is. I have already printed a test page."

The route Daniel chose led us past the server room and he tried to nudge me inside. "No Daniel," I said, "I had a late night last night, working on this report, and it has been a very busy day." I did not tell him about Mr Jones. "Mrs Ellis has told me I can go when I have seen which printer I am attached to. If you are finished we can go straight back to my flat. I do not feel like a drink tonight."

He looked at me sympathetically, "that sounds fine. You look tired – do you want to give tonight a miss?"

I was very tempted, but I had already put this date off from Monday. I managed a smile, "no, I will be fine when I am home and have had something to eat."

The printer was near to Amanda's desk and we talked briefly while Daniel checked that the test page had printed properly. Amanda is a tall Chinese-American girl in her late twenties. Her beautiful, long, black hair is her most striking feature. She was wearing a well-tailored and very expensive suit over a silk blouse. I realised that I would need to do something about my wardrobe if I did move to marketing.

I went back and cleared my desk. Daniel was waiting outside for me and we walked back to my flat. We did not talk.

We passed a chemist's shop on the way and Daniel said, "wait here" and disappeared inside. What was he looking for, I wondered. Condoms perhaps? I had known I was safe with him, but what did he know about me? Did he even know about Mr Jones raping me? It had not taken Mrs Ellis long to find out. Anyway, I had used Daniel's trojan to transfer the .mpg file and if he had been monitoring that he could have seen everything.

He came out with a very large bag. Not condoms then, unless he had bought a lifetime supply. I looked down at the bag, but he smiled and put his finger to his lips. Daniel's visit to the chemist had piqued my curiosity and I found myself becoming excited and even sexually aroused in spite of my tiredness.

We got to my flat and Daniel walked straight into the bathroom and started running a bath. I followed to find him pouring some bath oil into it – at least part of the mystery was solved. He undressed me – very gently – and helped me in to the bath. Then he started to take scented candles out of the chemist's bag, light them and place them around the bathroom.

I expected him to join me in the bath, but he did not. Instead he took the bag and two of my towels into the lounge. He put on some soothing music but did not return to the bathroom.

At first I revelled in the sensation of the bath. I soaked my tired and aching muscles. I washed myself thoroughly as if to wash away the memory of the rape.

I called, "Daniel, are you coming to join me?" but there was no answer. I did not think he had gone – I would have heard the sound of the door – but last my curiosity got the better of me and I got out of my lovely bath and dried myself. I wrapped a towel around me and walked through into the lounge.

Which was empty, but I could see Daniel through the open bedroom door. The towels he had taken were on my bed and I could see bottles of massage oil lined up on my bedside table. "Your masseur awaits," he said.

I noticed that he had stripped to his underpants, so I guessed the massage might then go on to other things. Even so, I was charmed and touched by his gesture. Daniel really is a very sweet boy.

I lay face down on the bed. He started at my shoulders, massaging away the tensions of the day. Then he moved down to my back. He massaged my buttocks, gently touching my asshole but not putting his hands between my legs. He continued down my thighs and legs before massaging my feet and kneading my toes.

"Turn over," his said in a rather husky voice. His erect prick pushed at the front of his underpants.

He started on my feet and worked his way up to my knees. As he moved up he concentrated on the inside of my thighs, slowly and gently opening my legs. He spent long minutes massaging my groin, flicking the tips of his thumbs against my clit and labia.

Then he slipped off his underpants before kneeling on the bed between my parted legs. He continued the massage, however, working my pubic hair and my stomach before starting on my ribs. His prick seemed to be straining forward as his hands reached my breasts. His hands gradually climbed up my breasts until his thumbs reached my nipples.

By now I was eager for him to enter me and I let out a low moan, deep in my throat. Taking that as a sign, Daniel pushed his prick into my wet, receptive pussy. I was so excited by his clever hands that I came before him, for the first time. He continued to thrust into me for several minutes after my climax before shooting his load.

"Is that any better," he said with a grin as he climbed off the bed. "Oh yes!" I said enthusiastically.

I made some salad and put out some cold meat and a bottle of wine for dinner. I enjoy cooking and I usually take pride in preparing food, but the last couple of days – and even the last couple of hours – had taken a lot out of me. But I was surprised to find that the food and a couple of glasses of wine made me feel more like my normal self.

Over dinner I had told Daniel about the report and how I had solved my problems with the pivot tables. He nodded approvingly, but he went over to the computer and showed me a few useful short cuts. Then I reached across him and opened up our pillow book.

We had both had such explosive climaxes that I did not expect any further fireworks that evening. But reading through the book, debating the number of stars we had assigned to the various sexual positions and discussing exactly what physical injuries we could expect from trying some of the more impossible ones aroused my libido. I was only wearing a robe – I had not bothered to get dressed earlier – and I shrugged that off and looked straight at Daniel. He peeled down his underpants – they seemed to be all he ever wore around the flat – and we went back into the bedroom.

I lay flat on the bed. He leant over and starting licking and sucking my pussy. I gasped and started panting as waves of pleasure swept through me. "Sixty nine," I said, "bring that sweet cock of yours round here."

He kept his mouth firmly on my pussy as he moved round to the side of the bed and climbed up. He knelt so he was straddling my face and I snaked my tongue round the end of his prick. Then I raised my legs to wrap them round his head, put my hands on his waist and flipped him over onto his side. I stroked and gently squeezed his balls with my hands as I sucked on the head of his shaft. I slowed down as his climax approached and his cum shot into my mouth as we climaxed at the same time.