*This is a story in three parts that will only makes sense if read in order.
*This is Part 2
*
I didn’t get fired. In fact, Jim didn’t say a word to me for weeks. Eventually everyone found out what had happened, and I quickly became the office hero. People spoke more openly about his womanizing now and how I had finally put the creep in his place. Things appeared to be going okay. Jim had been served a large piece of humble pie, and maybe he wouldn’t do anything after all.
I was wrong.
Two weeks after the “incident” (ie me handcuffing his balls to his chair), I found a camera under my desk. I never would have found it except that I brought a clock radio to work, and when I crawled under my desk to plug it in, I saw the camera. It was a web cam aimed at my crotch. I was luckily wearing pants that day, and I was pretty sure it had been several days since I had worn a skirt.
I got one of the nerdy software guys to inspect it for me, and he was able to disconnect it easily enough. In the few days that followed, no upskirt photos of me circulated through the office, so I assume I dodged a bullet.
A few days later I was in the ladies room and heard a slight whirring noise as I prepared to sit down on the toilet. I had second thoughts and decided to hold it until lunch when I would go out. After hours, when I knew Jim had left, I took the same guy from software, and we found the camera in the ladies room. It was much better quality than the web cam under my desk, and I had heard it focusing as he had tightened the frame when I was sitting down.
The next few days I was paranoid at work. The weather was warm outside, but I was wearing pants and turtle necks to work, scared that there would be cameras at all angles trying to get a shot. I thought about installing a security system at home too but hoped he wouldn’t get that bold.
I talked about it with Terry during our racquetball sessions. “You know he is never going to let up,” he told me. “You got him better than he ever expected. No one is even sure how he got himself out of those cuffs, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his wife found out. He will not sleep until he has paid you back.”
But how, I wondered. Cameras were easy to defend against. His next tactic was not. I heard a dog back in the office the next week and heard a woman scream. “Stand back, ma’am,” a very bravado voice called out. “We got a tip for a drug bust?”
No, I thought. No one here would be that stupid. Then I panicked. I quickly dug deep into the drawers that I never use, lifting up papers and pulling back hanging folders. There, in the back, was a zip-lock bag of what looked like flour. Of course, I had never seen it before.
I could hear the dog coming my way from down the hall, and I had to get rid of the evidence. The cubicle next to mine was empty, as my neighbor was on vacation, and I threw the bag into her garbage. I was back at my desk playing innocent when two men and a dog came around the corner. They were dressed as cops and quickly ordered me to stand up. I say “dressed” as cops because when I looked close at the badge of one of them, it had no badge number. The one without the dog pushed me up against the cube wall and made me stand as if he was going to frisk me.
Knowing this had come from Jim, I was sure the frisking would turn into a type of strip search once they found the planted drugs. But they weren’t going to find them. The fake cop with the dog spent a long time looking through only one drawer – the one where the bag had been – but he couldn’t find anything. The cop near me had his hands poised to start his search, waiting for a signal from his friend, but it never came. A crowd was growing by my cubicle, and I saw that one of the security cameras was turned in my direction. Jim was ready to catch the whole thing on tape.
“I don’t have anything,” I cried.
“Shut up and face the wall!” the one next to me said. “We’ll tell you if you are hiding anything.”
Terry showed up soon, and it was a good thing too, because after the guy with the dog had still found nothing, he turned to his friend, “Search her.”
“On what grounds?” Terry called from the crowd of about ten people.
“You stay out of this,” the guy near me replied.
“I’m a lawyer,” Terry replied, and both men froze. “You and your dog have found nothing. If you got a tip, it must be someone else.” The dog had its head in my trashcan, undoubtedly making a meal of the half a donut I had thrown away.
The two guys exchanged nervous glances and shrugged their shoulders. “Let’s go.” They didn’t search anyone else and made a quick line to the exit.
The crowd left as I stood stunned against the cube wall. Only Terry hung around, and as he walked up to me, I burst into tears and fell into his arms. “I can’t work like this,” I sobbed.
He rubbed my back. “Let’s go to lunch.” It was early, but I nodded my head.
At the small diner we talked about options. Terry wanted me to quit. “No,” I replied. “I haven’t been looking and the job market isn’t that strong.”
“Someone like you can get a job anywhere you want. You are too smart to stay unemployed.”
“But not smart enough to beat Jim?” I asked.
Terry frowned at the comment, but I didn’t relent. “I want to beat him. I have to beat him. It’s not just the money, either. It is a lot of money, but I need to beat him for my career. I have never faced a challenge that I couldn’t beat.”
“And how will you do that?” Terry asked. “He will not stop until he pays you back, and the longer you wait, the more he will escalate his attempts. He might start attacking you at your home. He might end up hiring someone to almost rape you.”
“It will only end when he gets what he wants,” I admitted. “And he wants me humiliated in front of everyone like he was.” I knew it wouldn’t be enough to just go into his office and give him his blow job. Even if he filmed it, he couldn’t show it anyone to embarrass me because he would be in it.
“And if that happens,” Terry advised, “then he wins and you might as well quit now.”
“But what if I let him think he won?” I said, a plan slowly starting to creep into my head.
“What do you mean?”
The plan was still forming, but I talked it through. “Right now I am at the mercy of his imagination and formidable intelligence. He will keep coming up with more and more elaborate plans until he gets me, and he will get me his way. What if I offer my surrender and allow him to get me my way?”